That was cute of Armitage, really it was, because it was so him. To edge into things, to plan where he could and be wary and careful. But Poe was rarely like that, forever ready to race off into trouble so long as it worked out in the end. He needed to be better at that -- no longer a commander, he was a General in his own world, Leia's direct successor. But in this -- in bed. There was no reason to ease into anything. Poe wanted, and he knew that if he demanded, Armitage would give. Sometimes he was made to wait, but today wouldn't be one of those days.
Good. Poe probably would have cried otherwise.
He helped when it came to getting his pants off, lifted his hips as best he could, squirming until he was free of restrictions, pants ending up somewhere on the floor. And Poe didn't even wait then, instead reaching up to do the same for his husband, fingers brushing against any skin he found along the way, hips lifting to find some of that friction they'd had to pull away from in order to get his pants off in the first place. "Come back," he said, which was a useless demand if he wanted Armitage naked too.