[ Poe gives a breathy little laugh and leans up enough to kiss John on the mouth. ] I like being inside you even more.
[ Another lingering kiss, one between each statement. ] I like it when you shake. I like it when you shiver. I like it when I have to hold you up and I like the sounds you make.
[ He trails one hand down from John’s shoulder to his hand. ] I would tell you if I wanted something different.
[John's eyes widen, his face flushing all the way up into his ears.
He laughs into Poe's first kiss, shyly, awkwardly, then melts into the rest. John doesn't know how to respond, or even react. No one's said anything like this to him before. Not outside of dirty talk during sex, words quickly spilled and forgotten, meaningless outside the heat of the moment.]
Don't say stuff like that-
[(You're going to make me fall in love with you.)]
You're gonna make me want it right now.
[He grabs Poe's hand with his hand, bringing it to his mouth, kissing over every scarred knuckle and mechanic thickened joint. This he can do. Actions are easier than words.]
[ It's teasing, lazy and languid, because if he's being honest Poe doesn't feel like sex right now. He feels like this. The two of them sprawled in bed, John kissing his way over a fresh bruise between his knuckles with origins Poe can't guess.
He draws his hand up enough that John is forced to look at him if he wants to keep kissing Poe. ]
[He looks up at Poe, at his dark eyes and eyelashes, knowing he can't hide from him when they're like this. Not without ruining the moment.
John doesn't want to ruin it.
He turns over Poe's hand, kisses his callused palm, breath fanning warm between his fingers. Stays looking at him, even though it's hard. Even though he wants to run, and hide, but he can't without leaving the bed. Without leaving him.
He doesn't want to do that, either.
Why is it John can look death in the eye without flinching, but not love?
John flinches, but he still looks. Trying to be brave.]
Better than I have in years. I think I needed this. Someone... just for me.
[ Just for him. Poe feels a giddy little flip in his stomach.
Just for him.
He's scared. Breathing faster, even while he tries to keep himself steady. Poe focuses on John's breath across his palm, the soft kisses across hard skin.
Very softly, hating the quiet and the tremor in his voice, Poe whispers: ]
Is that what I am?
[ He could be. He could be that. He could try. He runs the chain of John's dog-tags between the fingers of his free hand. Poe swallows, nerves making him hum unpleasantly all over. ]
I've just-- [ It sounds pathetic even in his head. ] I'm used to just being. I'm just the fling.
[ It's a struggle, to try and get words around what he's feeling. ] I'm a good time, or a few.
[ I've never done this before, and it's terrifying.
I thought I was just the fling. That's what I'm used to being, too. Even told myself I liked it, for a while.
[The truth is, John's not very good at casual. He acts it, and people buy it, but at his core? He's a man who commits. Hard.
Falling in love has always been too easy for him. He fell in love with Atlantis, and his newfound friends and family, almost right away. He would do anything for them, and has. Killed. Lied. Stolen. Anything.
John knows, watching Poe as he struggles to speak, his voice soft and uncertain, that he would do anything for him, too.
He kisses Poe's inner wrist, over his pulse, with all the tenderness of the love he feels, but doesn't know how to say.
It scares him that he wants to say it.
Don't go off the deep-end, John. Don't scare him away. Don't fuck this up. Don't get greedy.
Remember your mission.
He only half-listens to the voice that's been keeping him sane the past few years, through all the loss, and the pain. Cautious, and always anticipating the worst.]
[ A direct order. A given rank, of sorts. Poe exhales a laugh, feeling something in him slot comfortably in to this new set of parameters. ( John's hands on his shoulders, his commands in Poe's ears, that first moment when he let himself feel something more than simple attraction. )
( There, too, perhaps, the first crack in his relationship with Karen, John's actions more than simple understanding--also a demand, openness mirroring openness. )
( And there it is, the guilt, the guilt over feeling good when he left her feeling broken. )
Deal with it, Poe thinks. He did what he did. He said what he said. He's still angry, too, angry that she would call him cruel for not being able to love her when he'd just told her how many of his own had died. It's the anger that frees him for the moment from the guilt.
Deal with it. ]
I think I can do that.
[ He's still tentative.
But that kiss on his wrist is enough to make Poe want to curl up and take a nap, pressed against John, trusting for once that the world will still be in one piece when he wakes up. He laces his fingers between John's, both hands, drawing them up to his mouth so he can kiss the knuckles of one of John's hands, then the other.
[Poe kisses John's hands. His heart throbs painfully in his chest. He forgets to breathe until Poe's lips have graced every battered knuckle.
John wants this. He wants it so bad. When was the last time he's taken something for himself? He can't remember. He's been too busy to want. Too desperate to want. Too tired. Too dirty. Too afraid.]
Hey, do you mind if I leave some stuff here? I mean, I keep sleeping over, and...
[John smiles again, more with his eyes than his mouth. Squeezes Poe's hands with his hands.
It takes courage to be a test-pilot. This is just another experimental flight. Maybe it'll take, and maybe it won't, but for now? He's going to enjoy the flight.]
We'll be seeing more of each other, right? Cause I can't stop thinking about you.
Poe has never done this part at all. In the Academy there was never a reason or a way to leave stuff in each other's places unless it was underwear by accident when trying to escape the notice of a cadet sergeant. For a second he's nothing but alarm bells and panic, unable to speak, but John is right. He keeps sleeping over. They will be seeing more of each other.
Poe licks his lips, bites the lower, and nods slowly. Almost breathlessly: ] Okay.
[ Then, stronger: ] Yeah. That's a good idea.
[ He hides his face against John's hands. ] I've been thinking about you too.
[John's breathless too. It's a lot. More than he should allow himself to have. They both have their own battles, their own families, friends, and homes, in their own respective galaxies.
Sooner or later, they'll have to say goodbye. John's not thinking about it right now, he has that reality pushed to the farthest corner of his brain, but the thought is always there, lurking beneath the surface.
Teyla told him he should be happy, that he was allowed to love, and be loved. Even if what they have isn't forever, and they're only together for as long as this place allows, it's something. Maybe enough to get him through the next few years, or the rest of his life, being alone.
John's probably making up reasons to be with Poe, and to stay with him, but he wants this too bad not to. A place to leave his toothbrush, the companionship and bed of another human being, and brown eyes that melt something in him he'd long thought was cold and dead. That's all John's asking for. Even if he doesn't deserve it.
I've been thinking about you too.
He cups Poe's face with his hands, leans in, and kisses him on the lips.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2018-03-01 02:30 am (UTC)[Suddenly, John is unsure.
John hates how weak his voice sounds to his own ears, even as he loves how gently Poe kisses him. How caring he is.
He shifts to look up at Poe, rising into his elbows on Poe's chest, careful not to dig in his elbows. He knows they're pointy.]
I like being inside you.
Is that what you want? I could do that more. You don't have to fuck me. If you're tired of it, just say the word-
no subject
Date: 2018-03-01 02:37 am (UTC)[ Another lingering kiss, one between each statement. ] I like it when you shake. I like it when you shiver. I like it when I have to hold you up and I like the sounds you make.
[ He trails one hand down from John’s shoulder to his hand. ] I would tell you if I wanted something different.
no subject
Date: 2018-03-01 04:03 am (UTC)He laughs into Poe's first kiss, shyly, awkwardly, then melts into the rest. John doesn't know how to respond, or even react. No one's said anything like this to him before. Not outside of dirty talk during sex, words quickly spilled and forgotten, meaningless outside the heat of the moment.]
Don't say stuff like that-
[(You're going to make me fall in love with you.)]
You're gonna make me want it right now.
[He grabs Poe's hand with his hand, bringing it to his mouth, kissing over every scarred knuckle and mechanic thickened joint. This he can do. Actions are easier than words.]
I'd do anything you want, you know that, right?
no subject
Date: 2018-03-01 05:24 am (UTC)[ It's teasing, lazy and languid, because if he's being honest Poe doesn't feel like sex right now. He feels like this. The two of them sprawled in bed, John kissing his way over a fresh bruise between his knuckles with origins Poe can't guess.
He draws his hand up enough that John is forced to look at him if he wants to keep kissing Poe. ]
I want you to feel good. That's what I want.
no subject
Date: 2018-03-01 05:46 am (UTC)[He looks up at Poe, at his dark eyes and eyelashes, knowing he can't hide from him when they're like this. Not without ruining the moment.
John doesn't want to ruin it.
He turns over Poe's hand, kisses his callused palm, breath fanning warm between his fingers. Stays looking at him, even though it's hard. Even though he wants to run, and hide, but he can't without leaving the bed. Without leaving him.
He doesn't want to do that, either.
Why is it John can look death in the eye without flinching, but not love?
John flinches, but he still looks. Trying to be brave.]
Better than I have in years. I think I needed this. Someone... just for me.
no subject
Date: 2018-03-01 07:42 am (UTC)Just for him.
He's scared. Breathing faster, even while he tries to keep himself steady. Poe focuses on John's breath across his palm, the soft kisses across hard skin.
Very softly, hating the quiet and the tremor in his voice, Poe whispers: ]
Is that what I am?
[ He could be. He could be that. He could try. He runs the chain of John's dog-tags between the fingers of his free hand. Poe swallows, nerves making him hum unpleasantly all over. ]
I've just-- [ It sounds pathetic even in his head. ] I'm used to just being. I'm just the fling.
[ It's a struggle, to try and get words around what he's feeling. ] I'm a good time, or a few.
[ I've never done this before, and it's terrifying.
Are you sure that's what you want? ]
no subject
Date: 2018-03-01 03:47 pm (UTC)[The truth is, John's not very good at casual. He acts it, and people buy it, but at his core? He's a man who commits. Hard.
Falling in love has always been too easy for him. He fell in love with Atlantis, and his newfound friends and family, almost right away. He would do anything for them, and has. Killed. Lied. Stolen. Anything.
John knows, watching Poe as he struggles to speak, his voice soft and uncertain, that he would do anything for him, too.
He kisses Poe's inner wrist, over his pulse, with all the tenderness of the love he feels, but doesn't know how to say.
It scares him that he wants to say it.
Don't go off the deep-end, John. Don't scare him away. Don't fuck this up. Don't get greedy.
Remember your mission.
He only half-listens to the voice that's been keeping him sane the past few years, through all the loss, and the pain. Cautious, and always anticipating the worst.]
You're mine. That's what you are. Deal with it.
no subject
Date: 2018-03-01 08:03 pm (UTC)( There, too, perhaps, the first crack in his relationship with Karen, John's actions more than simple understanding--also a demand, openness mirroring openness. )
( And there it is, the guilt, the guilt over feeling good when he left her feeling broken. )
Deal with it, Poe thinks. He did what he did. He said what he said. He's still angry, too, angry that she would call him cruel for not being able to love her when he'd just told her how many of his own had died. It's the anger that frees him for the moment from the guilt.
Deal with it. ]
I think I can do that.
[ He's still tentative.
But that kiss on his wrist is enough to make Poe want to curl up and take a nap, pressed against John, trusting for once that the world will still be in one piece when he wakes up. He laces his fingers between John's, both hands, drawing them up to his mouth so he can kiss the knuckles of one of John's hands, then the other.
Don't fuck this up. ]
no subject
Date: 2018-03-02 02:22 am (UTC)John wants this. He wants it so bad. When was the last time he's taken something for himself? He can't remember. He's been too busy to want. Too desperate to want. Too tired. Too dirty. Too afraid.]
Hey, do you mind if I leave some stuff here? I mean, I keep sleeping over, and...
[John smiles again, more with his eyes than his mouth. Squeezes Poe's hands with his hands.
It takes courage to be a test-pilot. This is just another experimental flight. Maybe it'll take, and maybe it won't, but for now? He's going to enjoy the flight.]
We'll be seeing more of each other, right? Cause I can't stop thinking about you.
no subject
Date: 2018-03-04 12:33 am (UTC)Poe has never done this part at all. In the Academy there was never a reason or a way to leave stuff in each other's places unless it was underwear by accident when trying to escape the notice of a cadet sergeant. For a second he's nothing but alarm bells and panic, unable to speak, but John is right. He keeps sleeping over. They will be seeing more of each other.
Poe licks his lips, bites the lower, and nods slowly. Almost breathlessly: ] Okay.
[ Then, stronger: ] Yeah. That's a good idea.
[ He hides his face against John's hands. ] I've been thinking about you too.
no subject
Date: 2018-03-04 01:47 am (UTC)[John's breathless too. It's a lot. More than he should allow himself to have. They both have their own battles, their own families, friends, and homes, in their own respective galaxies.
Sooner or later, they'll have to say goodbye. John's not thinking about it right now, he has that reality pushed to the farthest corner of his brain, but the thought is always there, lurking beneath the surface.
Teyla told him he should be happy, that he was allowed to love, and be loved. Even if what they have isn't forever, and they're only together for as long as this place allows, it's something. Maybe enough to get him through the next few years, or the rest of his life, being alone.
John's probably making up reasons to be with Poe, and to stay with him, but he wants this too bad not to. A place to leave his toothbrush, the companionship and bed of another human being, and brown eyes that melt something in him he'd long thought was cold and dead. That's all John's asking for. Even if he doesn't deserve it.
I've been thinking about you too.
He cups Poe's face with his hands, leans in, and kisses him on the lips.]
Thank you.