Star Wars short short: "I'm Here to Rescue You" (PG-13, Finn/Poe Dameron)

[hsavinien]

Title: I'm Here to Rescue You

Author: H. Savinien

Disclaimer: Star Wars and named characters belong to Lucas and Disney.

Rating: PG-13 for implications

Wordcount: 1000

Summary: Bondage is only fun when you've agreed to it. Poe hasn't.

***

“Well, this is, um...” Finn scratched the back of his head. “I'm here to rescue you?”

Poe, face flushed and grumbling, glowered for a second before giving in to the ridiculousness of the situation. The pilot huffed what sounded like laughter into the gag covering the lower half of his face and squirmed again, accomplishing nothing but a little swaying in his bonds.

“Is the room safe to enter?” Finn checked. “No traps?” At Poe's emphatic nod, then headshake, and frustrated noise, he checked the corridor quickly once more and hurried inside. “Okay. Let me give you a hand with that.” Poe's gag was knotted solidly behind his head, so Finn just cut it free for expediency, then pulled out the ball of cloth underneath that had been stuffed in Poe's mouth. “Okay?”

“Getting there,” Poe croaked. “Get me outta here? This is a little less dignified than the last time you pulled me out of a cell. What's happening outside?”

Finn nodded, assessing the situation as best he could. “The rest of the extraction team is holding off the bounty hunters, so we don't have to worry about that for now.” Poe was...stuck. Stuck was a good word. “They...had some funny ideas about prisoner restraint, huh?” Poe was shirtless, arms pulled up behind his back to the point where Finn's shoulders would have been screaming, his legs bound thigh-to-calf and anchored so he was kneeling, legs spread on the durasteel floor. A strap around his throat kept his head tipped down, but didn't seem to be affecting his ability to breathe. “Arms or legs first? I don't want to hurt you getting you out of that.”

“Arms. Definitely arms.”

Finn unbuckled the straps as quickly as he could figure them out, too afraid of accidentally hitting Poe's inner arm to use his knife there. He patted Poe's shoulders gently as each pull and slide of the webbing made the tight muscles there twitch in protest. Poe slumped when his arms slipped free. He raised deadened fingers to paw at the strap around his neck, trying to get it off. Finn batted the numb fingers away to cut that off him too, humming something he belatedly recognized as Artoo's worried croon. He'd have gone for the legs next himself, but Poe wasn't used to being collared. “'s too bad,” Poe muttered.

“What's too bad?” Finn asked absently, slicing the ropes that held Poe's knees to the ground.

“Tell you later.”

“All right. Legs now, come on, buddy. I got it, just a second and I'll have you out of this...” Finn checked the angle, then slid his knife flat under the straps, twisting it outward as much as the tight bonds would allow, and started sawing. Every parting fiber loosened the whole mess and made it easier and faster until first Poe's right leg, then his left were free. Poe tipped over and almost landed on his face before Finn managed to sling an arm around his middle.

“Ow,” Poe complained.

Finn laughed a little helplessly. “Yeah, I bet. Okay. Massage time. I'm gonna roll you over on your back and see if I can get your limbs working enough for you to walk.”

“Mmm, no, I think you'll have to carry me,” Poe suggested, flopping helpfully onto his back as Finn rolled him.

“Just because I can doesn't mean it's the most efficient way of getting us out of here. If I'm carrying you and your arms don't work, that means nobody's going to be able to shoot if we get cornered.”

“Okay, point.” Poe grunted in pain as Finn squeezed the life back into his arm. His muscles were cold and stiff, but responding.

“Fingers working?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Drink.” Finn shoved his canteen into Poe's hand and resumed work on the other arm.

Poe drank in tiny, desperate sips. Even so, he choked a little when Finn leaned his weight into the knots in Poe's thigh.

“Sorry, buddy, sorry,” Finn muttered, but didn't stop the quickest, most brutal massage Poe was ever likely to get. “Both hands working?”

Poe grunted an affirmative, shivering in the mixed pain of stiff muscles and the bruising warmth of Finn's hands. He traded the canteen for the blaster Finn handed him and made it up to one knee before faltering, even with Finn's hands steadying him.

“Okay, easy now, arm over my shoulders, let's get you up on your feet.” With some staggering, they maneuvered upright, Finn's arm around Poe's waist. “All right now.”

Hitting his comlink, Finn reported, “I've got him. Do we have a way out?”

“Under attack,” Pava's voice was scratchy through the link, but recognizable. “We'll try to clear the way for you.”

“Good to hear your voice, Testor,” Poe called. “See you soon.”

“Roger that, Dameron. Glad you're not dead.”

Finn pocketed the comlink and pulled his own blaster. “Okay, let's do this.”

“You got it buddy. And thanks.”

“Well, I wasn't going to leave you.”

“I know.” Poe gave Finn one of his gleaming, eye-crinkling smiles and a fleeting kiss on the cheek. “For luck.”

“Oh! Yeah.” Finn grinned back. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

Finn kicked the door open and they set off down the corridor as fast as Poe could stagger.

***

“So...” Finn said, “When we were getting you out you said something like 'It's too bad.' and to ask you later?”

Poe lifted his head from Finn's shoulder to squint at him. “Too bad because I actually like being tied up when it's for fun.” He dropped back down – right on a bruise, but Finn was too happy to have him there to complain. There was a mighty yawn right in Finn's ear. “Too tired and sore now. You can try it once I'm feeling better if you want.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure.”

“Okay.” Finn cuddled Poe closer and pulled the coat up over him a little farther. It might be fun. It would be pretty, seeing Poe tied up more gently and enjoying it. “Okay.”