"You okay?" he breathed out, still trying to process what Poe had said and that he did, in fact, seem okay. Meanwhile, Finn was losing his mind.

His eyes had fallen closed at some point, trying to catch his breath and finding it impossible. His heart was trying to slam out of his chest, and all of his senses were wrapped up in Poe. This was all very similar to the situation with the vines, when his focus had been pulled down to a singular point of lust. At the same time, it was entirely different, needing him but also needing to do this slowly and right.

Before Poe could answer, Finn started the slow pull of his hips back, hardly moving an inch before reminding himself that he'd asked a question and to try and stay still. His forehead found the hollow of Poe's throat, not pressing but just trying to breathe.