Finn groaned from Poe's touch, more surprised than he should have been that his husband was reciprocating. He tucked his face into his neck, panting while trying to stroke over his cock to make this go faster.

"Don't think like that," he gasped, pushing his hips up into Poe's grip. "She's here. She's not going anywhere. No one's going to hurt her again. He'll never take us from her again."

It wasn't sorrow or desperation that made the words so strained. It was anger, something that so rarely flared in Finn's chest, and an unhealthy hint of possession as well. Nothing would hurt Rey again so long as he lived.