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Walking in on this situation was a set-up, surely. A show of power, perhaps, from his captor. Undoubtedly, a painful reminder that he has no power here, that he - and the others - are here for the Emperor's amusement alone. The sight unfolding before Poe of his equally-as-unwilling concubine being harshly taken in the middle of the common area has him frozen in his tracks. Absently, he wonders if he looks as pitiful as Hux does when he is being...raped by once-friend. Poe finds it hard to wrap his mind around the casual manner in which Kylo takes what wants from such loath victims. It is horrifying to bear witness to how far Kylo has fallen from the light.
The pained whimpers coming from the other concubine sends a stinging wave of sympathy through him. Never would he have expected to feel anything beyond animosity towards his former adversary - until now. It is remarkable how shared misfortune changes one's perspective. Hux certainly deserves punishment for his many crimes, but the decent part of Poe balks at the stray thought that Hux deserves this even in part. Surely no one deserves this sort of humiliating pain drawn out for however long the Emperor decides to keep them. Not even a genocidal egomaniac like the disgraced general.
Minutes - or maybe hours - pass in an odd mixture of rushed slowness as he watches the assault unfold while doing nothing to bring it to a halt. He has never been a coward or pessimist, but seeing his own suffering mirrored in his one-time enemy dampens his fire with a bleak, oppressive hopelessness. Later, he might try to blame Kylo's powers for keeping him in place - anything to stop the shameful regret of doing nothing that eats at him. But he will always know that his slowly breaking spirit is to blame for his inaction. He will know that this is moment when he truly began to lose the last shred of hope he had.
A spike of terror nearly sends Poe stumbling away when Kylo finishes and abruptly turns from Hux to right his clothing. The dread of Kylo's attention being turned towards himself abates when Kylo merely stalks from the room, leaving one stunned concubine watching his retreating back in shock and another trembling in pain on the floor. Poe's gaze is pulled back to his fellow captive when Hux hauls himself mostly upright with a pained whimper. The aching well of pity in Poe's chest deepens when Hux jerkily and almost frantically tries to smooth down the front of the shirt that is his remaining scrap of clothing.
Their eyes meet for a tense moment. Poe is not entirely certain that Hux even sees him. He feels as wretched inside as Hux looks outwardly. Hux turning shakily away breaks the spell of still discomfort. As he watches Hux stumble on weak legs back to his sleeping quarters Poe feels the urge to reach out and attempt to offer some semblance of comfort. Instead, he retreats to his own gilded prison to curl around himself and stare at the wall that separates them with despairing guilt.