[ Poe has to think about that one. His lips part; he searches for the right words. His muscles are still tremoring, aching like he's been running up mountainsides and climbing his way down. He's one big bruise. His body hums, shuddering occasionally with remembered pleasure. He's exhausted, as exhausted as he's ever been in his life.
He's also... calm.
Lifting an arm is a herculean effort. He lets his hand fall against John's neck, moving his thumb in tiny circles against John's skin.
He's calm. Purely, genuinely calm. There hasn't been a moment in the past few months--the past few years--like this. It's the feeling he associates with his small room on Yavin 4, with the early morning sounds of the jungle or a late night view of familiar stars.
Poe studies John's face, wanting to kiss him, too tired to lift his head. ]
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Date: 2018-04-02 02:03 am (UTC)He's also... calm.
Lifting an arm is a herculean effort. He lets his hand fall against John's neck, moving his thumb in tiny circles against John's skin.
He's calm. Purely, genuinely calm. There hasn't been a moment in the past few months--the past few years--like this. It's the feeling he associates with his small room on Yavin 4, with the early morning sounds of the jungle or a late night view of familiar stars.
Poe studies John's face, wanting to kiss him, too tired to lift his head. ]
I'm not sure.
[ Poe closes his eyes. ]
Good.
[ That doesn't begin to cover it. ]
Really good.