Poe let out a choked moan, rolling his hips to grind his cock against the firm curve of Finn's thigh, with absolutely no self conciousness. His back arched, chin tilting up to bare his neck as his fingers fumbled for Finn's fly. He needed this, his body told him, clear as day. He needed this, he needed Finn, nothing else mattered--

Except it did. The mission. The supplies. He tried to force his thoughts toward them and couldn't. "The supplies--" he started, trying to fight it, but it broke off in a shuddering pant as he heel of his palm brushed against the firm length of Finn's trapped cock.

"Force, Finn--"