It’s kind of an accident. Finn makes some silly little comment, he can’t even remember what now, but Poe laughs and reaches over and pokes Finn in the side.
And Finn… squeaks? Yeah, that was definitely a squeak.
And now Poe’s staring at him, wide eyed. Slowly, really really slowly, his mouth spreads into this smile that can only be described as evil.
“Are you ticklish?” he asks, with an expression like Finn’s just given him the best present ever, but also still kind of evil looking.
“Umm,” Finn manages. “Possibly?” He’s not one hundred percent sure what ticklish is - it’s not a word that was part of the First Order’s vocabulary, at least. “Maybe?”
Apparently it’s possible for that evil smile to get more evil. And then Poe pokes him again, right in that same spot. There’s another squeak from Finn; he reflexively jolts away and tries to curl in on himself at the same time, which kind of bounces them both when his ass jerks down against the mattress.
Poe’s still grinning. He leans over without breaking eye contact with Finn, setting his datapad down on the floor beside the bed.
Finn's got a bad feeling about this.
And then Poe’s pouncing and oh God. His hands are everywhere, poking and pinching all down Finn’s sides. Pushing Finn back against the bed until Poe’s basically straddling him, and Finn can’t stop laughing. It’s like this weird switch that’s been thrown, like he’s lost control of his whole body, but in a way that’s strangely fun and exciting and new.
He’s panting when Poe finally stops.
“You are definitely into tickling,” Poe announces, looking smug about discovering this new fact.
“I definitely am,” Finn agrees. His cheeks hurt from smiling. “I - Do it again?”
The evil smile returns, and Poe attacks him again. Settling more firmly across Finn’s lap as he pokes and prods and tickles more than ever, and Finn writhes under him, feeling giddy and happy and flushed.
He doesn’t even register he’s getting hard until Poe’s ass accidentally rubs down against him. Poe pauses for the briefest of seconds, and then he’s smirking and diving back in for another strike.
Admittedly, Finn gets hard a lot around Poe. Because Poe’s shown him all sorts of exciting kinds of pleasure, and sex is awesome, okay, it’s just awesome. Finn kind of wants to be doing it all the time, having sex at every opportunity, but he also gets that it’s socially unacceptable to do so. He’s not sure if it’s socially acceptable to get hard from tickling, but it’s just the two of them so it’s fine, and Poe is clearly enjoying himself too, because an evil smile is still a smile.
Poe’s fingers move under Finn’s armpits, and Finn’s laughter turns into straight up giggles. High-pitched and helpless, and he feels hot everywhere in this really pleasant way, like metal left out in the sun. His hips buck up, and Poe rides the movement, biting his lip a little, and it’s hard to giggle and groan at the same time, but Finn manages it.
“Wow, you could come from this, couldn’t you?” Poe asks, sounding kind of impressed by the idea. His hands hover over Finn’s skin, ready to start up all over again in an instant.
Finn takes a moment to just breathe; his lungs are burning, but it’s a good feeling. “I don’t know, could I?” He smirks up at Poe playfully, shirt twisted around his torso and sweating beneath his clothes.
“Oh, that sounds like a challenge,” Poe leers, and Finn grins at him, and the tickling comes back twice as intense.
Finn’s body is basically springs and malfunctioning gears. He flails and lurches, Poe’s knees framing his pelvis, Poe’s weight holding him down. His hips snap up of their own accord, and Poe grinds down against them every time.
Poe’s right - he could come from this. He’s going to, he can feel it building.
Fingers touch his arms, his chest, tweak his nipples through his shirt. Poe brushes him gently, jabs at him hard, different pressures, and Finn’s heels drum against the bed. He’s barely even laughing anymore, although that bright and happy feeling hasn’t gone anywhere; he just can’t find the breath to make noise.
It’s weird, to realise how close he is, because usually sex is more focused on the sensation around his cock. But right now he can barely feel how much he’s leaking, how heavy and stiff his cock is. There are pulses of friction every time Poe’s hips move down, every time Finn’s hips move up, but it’s almost drowned out by the tickling.
Finn feels like bubbles, light and fine, insubstantial. The bed keeps creaking, but his gasps seem louder. Poe’s laughing too, occasionally grunting with effort when Finn’s body bucks up hard. Tears leak from the corners of his eyes, and there are stars across his vision, dazzling him.
Poe’s hands move higher, his fingertips skittering up Finn’s neck like spiders, and his back arches off the bed so suddenly he almost throws Poe off. His shoulders draw up, hot/cold buzzing radiating from where Poe’s fingertips touch, spreading around to the back of his neck and sparking at the base of his skull.
Finn cries out when he comes, and it feels like his entire body is singing with it, so sensitive all over that even the shift of fabric against his skin feels like a caress.
He slumps back against the bed, and when did all his muscles turn to jelly? He’s all heated up and gooey inside, and there’s probably a really dopey smile on his face.
“Wow,” Poe says softly, his cheeks pink and his pupils dilated. “Just. Wow.”
“Mmmhmm,” Finn hums, which is about as articulate as he’s going to get anytime soon.
Poe’s hands settle against Finn’s chest, and if he had the energy he’d push up into them. Poe is very obviously hard beneath his sweatpants; there’s a dark spot across the grey tented material, wet just for the sight of Finn losing it.
“Tickling, huh?” Poe mutters, a finger tapping against Finn’s skin. “Tell me, buddy, how do you feel about feathers?”
That evil smile is back. Finn doesn’t know how he feels about feathers, but he can’t wait to find out.
Fill: Bubbling (Finn/Poe)
And Finn… squeaks? Yeah, that was definitely a squeak.
And now Poe’s staring at him, wide eyed. Slowly, really really slowly, his mouth spreads into this smile that can only be described as evil.
“Are you ticklish?” he asks, with an expression like Finn’s just given him the best present ever, but also still kind of evil looking.
“Umm,” Finn manages. “Possibly?” He’s not one hundred percent sure what ticklish is - it’s not a word that was part of the First Order’s vocabulary, at least. “Maybe?”
Apparently it’s possible for that evil smile to get more evil. And then Poe pokes him again, right in that same spot. There’s another squeak from Finn; he reflexively jolts away and tries to curl in on himself at the same time, which kind of bounces them both when his ass jerks down against the mattress.
Poe’s still grinning. He leans over without breaking eye contact with Finn, setting his datapad down on the floor beside the bed.
Finn's got a bad feeling about this.
And then Poe’s pouncing and oh God. His hands are everywhere, poking and pinching all down Finn’s sides. Pushing Finn back against the bed until Poe’s basically straddling him, and Finn can’t stop laughing. It’s like this weird switch that’s been thrown, like he’s lost control of his whole body, but in a way that’s strangely fun and exciting and new.
He’s panting when Poe finally stops.
“You are definitely into tickling,” Poe announces, looking smug about discovering this new fact.
“I definitely am,” Finn agrees. His cheeks hurt from smiling. “I - Do it again?”
The evil smile returns, and Poe attacks him again. Settling more firmly across Finn’s lap as he pokes and prods and tickles more than ever, and Finn writhes under him, feeling giddy and happy and flushed.
He doesn’t even register he’s getting hard until Poe’s ass accidentally rubs down against him. Poe pauses for the briefest of seconds, and then he’s smirking and diving back in for another strike.
Admittedly, Finn gets hard a lot around Poe. Because Poe’s shown him all sorts of exciting kinds of pleasure, and sex is awesome, okay, it’s just awesome. Finn kind of wants to be doing it all the time, having sex at every opportunity, but he also gets that it’s socially unacceptable to do so. He’s not sure if it’s socially acceptable to get hard from tickling, but it’s just the two of them so it’s fine, and Poe is clearly enjoying himself too, because an evil smile is still a smile.
Poe’s fingers move under Finn’s armpits, and Finn’s laughter turns into straight up giggles. High-pitched and helpless, and he feels hot everywhere in this really pleasant way, like metal left out in the sun. His hips buck up, and Poe rides the movement, biting his lip a little, and it’s hard to giggle and groan at the same time, but Finn manages it.
“Wow, you could come from this, couldn’t you?” Poe asks, sounding kind of impressed by the idea. His hands hover over Finn’s skin, ready to start up all over again in an instant.
Finn takes a moment to just breathe; his lungs are burning, but it’s a good feeling. “I don’t know, could I?” He smirks up at Poe playfully, shirt twisted around his torso and sweating beneath his clothes.
“Oh, that sounds like a challenge,” Poe leers, and Finn grins at him, and the tickling comes back twice as intense.
Finn’s body is basically springs and malfunctioning gears. He flails and lurches, Poe’s knees framing his pelvis, Poe’s weight holding him down. His hips snap up of their own accord, and Poe grinds down against them every time.
Poe’s right - he could come from this. He’s going to, he can feel it building.
Fingers touch his arms, his chest, tweak his nipples through his shirt. Poe brushes him gently, jabs at him hard, different pressures, and Finn’s heels drum against the bed. He’s barely even laughing anymore, although that bright and happy feeling hasn’t gone anywhere; he just can’t find the breath to make noise.
It’s weird, to realise how close he is, because usually sex is more focused on the sensation around his cock. But right now he can barely feel how much he’s leaking, how heavy and stiff his cock is. There are pulses of friction every time Poe’s hips move down, every time Finn’s hips move up, but it’s almost drowned out by the tickling.
Finn feels like bubbles, light and fine, insubstantial. The bed keeps creaking, but his gasps seem louder. Poe’s laughing too, occasionally grunting with effort when Finn’s body bucks up hard. Tears leak from the corners of his eyes, and there are stars across his vision, dazzling him.
Poe’s hands move higher, his fingertips skittering up Finn’s neck like spiders, and his back arches off the bed so suddenly he almost throws Poe off. His shoulders draw up, hot/cold buzzing radiating from where Poe’s fingertips touch, spreading around to the back of his neck and sparking at the base of his skull.
Finn cries out when he comes, and it feels like his entire body is singing with it, so sensitive all over that even the shift of fabric against his skin feels like a caress.
He slumps back against the bed, and when did all his muscles turn to jelly? He’s all heated up and gooey inside, and there’s probably a really dopey smile on his face.
“Wow,” Poe says softly, his cheeks pink and his pupils dilated. “Just. Wow.”
“Mmmhmm,” Finn hums, which is about as articulate as he’s going to get anytime soon.
Poe’s hands settle against Finn’s chest, and if he had the energy he’d push up into them. Poe is very obviously hard beneath his sweatpants; there’s a dark spot across the grey tented material, wet just for the sight of Finn losing it.
“Tickling, huh?” Poe mutters, a finger tapping against Finn’s skin. “Tell me, buddy, how do you feel about feathers?”
That evil smile is back. Finn doesn’t know how he feels about feathers, but he can’t wait to find out.