Long before now, Poe wanted to stay but it felt more real now, more jarring, since he'd realized that it was an actual possibility that maybe he wouldn't. He'd take those bites and marks and let them ground him appropriately.
It was, perhaps, the only way he'd ever wanted to be grounded in the first place.
Poe hated it a little bit, that it felt like he hadn't done this in forever. He hadn't forgotten -- there'd never be any forgetting -- but his body took a second to readjust. Armitage's hand on his cock was a wonderful distraction and before too long, he let himself just have it, hips rocking in order to fuck himself in either direction, his own fingers grappling for handhold in the sheets and on Armitage's thigh.