Yeah. [ Poe laughs under his breath. Then yanks John's jacket, pointing to the nearest open cluster, one of the crystals nearly twice as tall as Poe and John. ] Race you.
[ Poe guns it for the formation, like a kid who just spotted a free swing on the playground. Win or lose, he doesn't really care--he just wants to stand in the light cast from that crystal. He wants to be close to something that grand. ]
[Everyone else is being quiet and romantic. Then there's John and Poe.
John chases after him with everything he's got, because what's the point in racing if you're not going to really race? He doesn't care if he wins or loses, either. It's about the chase. Letting go for just a few seconds, and doing something fully, for no other reason than to do it.
He's always loved to run, and he'll do his damnedest to catch up, even if Poe has a head start. Metres away he skids into a low slide, reaching out with one hand to try and touch the stalactite before Poe does.]
[ Poe loses. Again. He's grinning, though, genuine and bright and without the shadows he's been carrying with him through each day since he first found out about Paige and her squadron. ]
Like I said. Outside of a cockpit. [ He runs his hand up the side of the crystal, half-expecting it to be warm. There's little runnels and build-ups here and there, like the pillar is made of transparent wax instead of stone, melting from some unfelt heat. ] I can't believe this has been here the whole time and no one found it before now.
[John touches the crystal too. It's not warm at all. Light streams between his fingers. If he makes shapes, he can almost create glimmering shadow pictures on the wall behind them.]
Vroooom. Brrrrrrt.
[Yes, he making a plane, and he's grinning at Poe like a ten year old boy while he does it. Poe's in a good mood. He's in a good mood. If they make it out of the cave in a good mood, and in one piece, with their clothes on, it'll be a new record.]
[ Poe laughs quietly. He knows enough by now to guess that an F-35 is a ship--a plane of some kind. It's the sound effects that make it.
Poe forms a bird with his hands, holding it up in front of the crystal and trying to keep a straight face as a couple walks by giving the two men funny looks. ]
A whisper bird.
They don't make any noises.
[ Cue the multilegged cave bug crawling out from between two of the crystal pillars, which immediately gets Poe's attention. ] Oh, hey. I wonder what it eats.
[ This isn't exactly a critter-friendly environment, so far as he can tell. ]
[John's surveyed a lot of planets, but he's never really taken the time to stop and smell the alien roses. There's always a mission. Some important task that needs doing, and usually done yesterday. John can't remember the last time he noticed any wildlife that wasn't actively trying to kill him.
Poe makes John wish he'd paid more attention. Actually looked instead of just saw.]
What what eats?
[John tears his eyes away from Poe's face to look where he's looking, and freezes.
Bug. Big bug. Big dark bug. Big dark bug near him.
A lot happens in the next second. John makes a startled noise, jumps a good couple feet into the air, backwards, reaches for his sidearm, which isn't there, reaches for his rifle, which also isn't there, grabs onto Poe, yanks him back, and doesn't let go. Whether John is shielding Poe with his body or clinging onto him for dear life is unclear.
John points at the bug with one finger, definitely more behind Poe than in front of him. But with one arm across Poe's chest. He really can't make up his mind.]
[ Okay, there's a difference between a mild phobic reaction and pure terror, and John leaps over the line between them the second Poe sees him reaching for a gun that isn't there. Poe grabs on to John, in part to keep his balance and in part because it just seems like the right thing to do. ]
Easy! Easy. It's okay.
[ The bug has frozen in place, one antennae bobbing, multifaceted eyes emotionless. Another moment of stillness from the two men and it crawls on its way again, down to the base of the crystal and closer to them for a moment before it circles back and disappears between a fresh pair of stones.
Poe doesn't really care about the others staring at them. He doesn't really care about the bug, either, except to be grateful it's gone. He doesn't want John to try and kill it when it hadn't been doing anything but existing, terror or no. ]
[The bug crawls closer to them. John shudders. Every inch of his skin prickling with discomfort. Itchy.
Poe says something, but he doesn’t hear it. John can’t look away. Not even as bile burns up the back of his throat, and he thinks he could be sick, right here, in front of all these people, in front of Poe. He grits his teeth and swallows it down.
The bug stops. Retreats. Goes back to whatever hell it came from.
John looks up and around the cavern. How many more are there? Where could they be hiding? Suddenly the moving shadows between skews of refracted light don’t seem so innocent. John’s eyes dart back and forth. His hand twitches towards his hip again.
It’s Poe’s voice that brings him back. John snaps to, straightening slowly. He’d been half-crouched, poised for action. ]
But…
[He looks at Poe helplessly. Wanting to argue, but without a leg to stand on. He looks down.
John’s fingers curl in on themselves, digging into his palms. No claws. He’s fine. He’s still himself. All of him.
For whatever that’s worth. Right now, it doesn't feel like a lot.]
[ Poe gives John a little squeeze around the shoulders, a tiny indicator that he's not upset, before he leads the way through the cave toward the exit. He makes sure to stay far away from the walls, from the formations in the center of the floor, anywhere there might be an insect in hiding.
He can come back and look at the crystals again later. Right now his priority is getting John back out in the sunlight.
Sure is a cave.
Poe wants to ask. He really, really wants to ask. He's not going to. ]
[Poe steers him through the cave towards the exit. John lets him. He’s on autopilot. His eyes stay on the ground in front of him. John’s panic is quickly giving way to shame. Almost as soon as his heart climbs down out of his throat it falls into the pit of his stomach. He doesn’t want to look at Poe, or for Poe to look at him. He doesn’t want to see the disappointment in Poe’s eyes, or worse, the pity.
John planned this outing with the intent to help Poe out of a dark place, and he’d FUBARed.
They exit the cave to bright skies and fresh air. John hates how much of a relief it is. Hates himself for being so goddamn weak, and ruining a good thing. If he’d left an impression on Poe, it was the wrong one.
The best he can do now is pull himself up by his bootstraps and refuse to be any more of a burden than he already is. John quietly sucks in a deep breath, laughs sheepishly, and looks at Poe with an embarrassed smile he hopes isn’t half as weak as it feels.]
Sorry. Guess I have a thing about bugs. Usually I just shoot 'em.
Kinda like me and being closed in. [ He hates saying that aloud. He hates admitting it, even if John already knows. That's exactly why it needs to be said.
Poe gives John's shoulder a tiny squeeze. ] What were you thinking for dinner?
[ That's it. That's all there is to it, as far as Poe is concerned. John needed to get out, they got out. He wouldn't take back the action no matter how many reassurances John offered. There's no apology necessary, no explanation needed. ]
I'd go for anything but pizza, actually. Finn and I have had a lot of that lately.
Has he stopped putting weird stuff on it, or is he still asserting his independence via toppings?
[How does Poe does it? Somehow, he always seems to know the right thing to say. Or maybe it's just that John likes hearing it, coming from his mouth, as someone who's gone through similar experiences, and has similar issues, and isn't just sympathizing, or feeling sorry for him.
And as someone John likes. Likes a lot.
John turns his head to look at Poe, is compelled to kiss him, because he's kind, and he's him. He chews on his lower lip, thinks about it, but there are people coming down the stairs towards them, and John isn't sure where Poe stands in regards to PDA. Or being seen with John in public, that way.]
I dunno, Italian, maybe?
That's... noodle dishes, and bread. Lots of carbs. Wine.
[And candles. Low lighting. Quiet. Maybe even a piano.
John slaps himself on the wrist, mentally, not for the first time since planning today. This isn't a date. Poe didn't agree to a date. They're just hanging out together.]
Or there's a cheap dim-sum place. If you're really hungry, and want to eat a little bit of everything.
[ Poe smiles, warm this time. ] I'm all for anything Finn does to assert his independence. Even if it does mean vegetable pizza.
[ John has no context for why that matters whoops. Still.
Poe scratches his chin. He's been leery of alcohol ever since that night when John came to get him, for more reasons than preparedness. He's never gotten that drunk before. He never wants to be that drunk again. Sure, wine wouldn't be his poison of choice for that purpose, but he's still gunshy. ]
It's... [How do you explain Chinese food to someone who doesn't know what, or where, China is?] Like a buffet. There are a hundred or so different dishes, in small portions, so you can taste all your favourites, and try new things without committing to a full meal. It's good for sharing.
It's not exactly the same stuff as back home, on Earth, but it's pretty close. There's seafood, meat, noodles and rice, desserts, all sorts of stuff. Kinda greasy, and full of MSG, but that's part of the experience.
I always eat too much and wind up in a coma. Not a real coma. A food coma.
[First world problems. People on Earth really don't know how good they have it. John's not entirely proud of the state of his planet. There's more than enough to feed everyone, yet a minority of people get fat living in excess, while the majority starves.
The longer John's away from Earth, the less he misses it.]
This place isn't anywhere fancy, hell, it's kind of a hole in the wall, but the food is legit. Tea's good too.
[It's also the least romantic place John can think of, but if it's what Poe wants to eat, it's where they'll go. As long as he's enjoying himself, John will enjoy himself too. This isn't about him, or what he wants.]
[ That sounds awesome, as far as Poe is concerned. If John intended to brighten Poe up with all of this, to lift some of the weight that's been riding his shoulders, he's definitely doing the job. Romantic or not. Bug panic or none. ]
One of my favorite parts of visiting new planets is finding the holes in the wall with the best food.
[ He closes his eyes, remembering the play of light in the crystals. ] Thank you. For this.
[The look on Poe's face seals it. A friend is what Poe needs right now, and a friend is what John's going to be. Nothing more, nothing less. Not unless Poe indicates otherwise. John's going to do his best not to be selfish.
It used to be easy, to put his friends first, and himself last. John doesn't know what's gotten over him lately. Whether it's losing Atlantis, and his people, or if it's just the nature of this place, where everyone is an outsider, and all anyone can do is cling to each other for comfort.
That, or John's just getting more lonely, and more screwed up with time. He can't blame Riverview for all his problems. Even back in Atlantis, everyone is shacking up, having babies, and getting married, or simply finding someone to keep them warm at night, but him.
He's too busy, or was. Now he has more time than he knows what to do with, and no one to spend that time with. There's Silva, and Rodney, but...
This isn't his pity party. He needs to keep his mind on track, for Poe's sake.]
It's not far from here, want to walk? I wouldn't mind the fresh air.
[ Now that he's out in the open, now that he's gotten a taste of fresh air, Poe is reminded how little he's been out the past week. Apartment to Guard to Apartment with very little in between.
John is so good this, at doing this, at drawing him out or picking him up. Karen is always there when Poe needs her, is steady and solid and willing to support him without hearing every detail, when he's not ready to share them. John, somehow, makes it easy to share. John draws the infection from the wound, and Karen stitches it back together again.
( He loves them, he loves them both, in a way he won't let himself recognize, for reasons he knows too well. A hundred excuses that guard his heart and keep him from the danger of leaving someone behind. )
He walks with his hands tucked into his pockets, quiet, thinking about John and his warmth and his humor and his eyes, not delving into why, staying in the shallows where affection is safe. He leans over and bumps John's shoulder with his own. ]
We could always do a nature survey some time, out past the wall. No bugs there you can't shoot.
[Poe bumps into him, and John can't help but smile.
It feels so damn good to be touched, even in the smallest of ways. Those moments of familiarity, and of fondness, make John feel so much lighter. Like if he reaches up, he can touch the sky. It's almost as good as flying.
Better than flying, when they're alone, and Poe looks at him in that way he does, with those big, dark eyes of his, like John's all he sees, or is thinking about.
Even if it isn't true. Sometimes, when they're alone, John can fool himself.]
Yeah. I'd like that. Hell, we could pack a picnic basket. Make a day of it.
[John's only half joking. He's American. He loves a good picnic. They're almost as fun to pack as they are to eat. He enjoys putting two of everything he can think of that the other person make like, wrapping it all individually. Planning out something simple and good for someone he cares about, instead of a battle plan for an enemy.
The days he spends thinking more about the Wraith than his own people are the worst.]
If you can get rid of the bugs before they get near me, I won't even shoot 'em.
[ The dim-sum is, as far as Poe is concerned, a complete success. Up to and including John seeing how many dumplings they could stuff in Poe's mouth before he was no longer able to chew. (Seven, it was seven.)
They get back to Poe's place as it's starting to get dark. Poe unlocks the door and opens it to BB-8's loud, annoyed whistlebooping as the droid rolls over to demand information about where Poe has been all day. He grins down at the droid and motions John inside. ]
[It was a good night. If this is what being a friend to Poe Dameron is like? John won't consider it a loss. They laughed. Relaxed. Had fun. Thought about and did something that wasn't killing people for a while. That's all John can really ask for from anyone.
They walk back to Poe's place, and John stops a few feet back from the door. He doesn't expect anything. Doesn't even want to look like he does. He's happy enough to say bye from that distance, a safe distance, for both of them.
Then Poe invites him in. John blinks, glancing back over both shoulders. There's no one behind him, and he didn't think there was, but Poe's never invited him in, or over, before. It's always John's place, and John's bed, or wall, or door...
He swallows, butterflies dancing violently in his stomach. They're a little dusty, but still alive, apparently.]
[ No pressure, no expectations, no small amount of amusement. Poe finds himself charmed again by John’s glance over his shoulders, saddened again by how surprised John seems by every little gesture.
(Make more of them, Poe thinks, and he feels his own small twinge of fear.) ]
Finn’s out on a shift, so we have the place to ourselves. [ He lifts one shoulder in a shrug and BB-8 chirps a reminder that no they do not have the place to themselves. Poe nudges the droid with his toes. ] Mostly to ourselves.
[Is that what they're doing? John has no idea. He's stared half-mad warlords in the eye during negotiations and had a better idea of what was happening. With Poe, John just doesn't know. Everything about their relationship, or lack thereof, has been left purposefully vague. Fuzzy around the edges.
Which is usually how John likes it. Or thought he did.
His heart thumps once, like a sonic boom, as he steps around Poe (and BB-8) into Poe's home. It's unfamiliar territory. John maps the windows, doors and barriers with a quick scan of his eyes before noting any surface details. Habit.
Turns out there aren't many. Poe and Finn's place is about as barren as his and Rodney's. All that really stands out are the makeshift beds on the living room floor.]
I like what you've done with the place. You're really running with the whole living room concept.
[ Poe gives John’s shoulder a light jab, heading for the kitchen area with BB-8 at his heels. He doesn’t say anything about the living room beds. It’s not really his place without Finn’s permission, even if the evidence of their sleeping arrangements is right there. Neither one of them is good at sleeping alone.
He reaches the kitchen, ducking down to a cabinet next to the fridge and pausing there. ]
[John bats Poe's hand away, still looking at the beds. Bed. Singular. Not unlike the nests he'd thrown together with bag-buddies on the floor of a mud hut to see them through a cold night, week, or month. He never considered that Poe and Finn might be a thing. Maybe that's why Poe's never invited him over. Not while Finn is around, anyway. Maybe he's the guy Poe calls when Finn is busy.
It's none of his business what Poe does in the time they're apart, or with who. He repeats it, each time more sternly than the last, with expletives thrown in for good measure. Always in the voice of his old drill-instructor. Wrestling his jealousy into submission, and back down into the small, dark crack in his heart it crawled out of. Where it belongs.
John follows Poe to the kitchen, leaning in with his elbows on the counter and a half-smile.]
[ The cabinet is liquor, mostly—Poe pulls out a small bottle of whiskey and sets it on the counter before going for the beer in the fridge. He knocks the cap off with a tidy whack against the edge of the counter and hands it to John.
Bottle openers are for plebs apparently.
Poe is, unsurprisingly, oblivious to the jealousy. He pours himself a small shot of whiskey and takes a sip, savoring the flavor of smoke and the burn in his throat. He watches John over the glass, studying those galaxy eyes, wanting to kiss that thin, expressive mouth. He reaches out and hooks his thumb over the band of John’s pants and tries to pull him close. ] How long can you stay?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2018-01-30 01:07 am (UTC)[ Poe guns it for the formation, like a kid who just spotted a free swing on the playground. Win or lose, he doesn't really care--he just wants to stand in the light cast from that crystal. He wants to be close to something that grand. ]
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Date: 2018-01-30 01:19 am (UTC)John chases after him with everything he's got, because what's the point in racing if you're not going to really race? He doesn't care if he wins or loses, either. It's about the chase. Letting go for just a few seconds, and doing something fully, for no other reason than to do it.
He's always loved to run, and he'll do his damnedest to catch up, even if Poe has a head start. Metres away he skids into a low slide, reaching out with one hand to try and touch the stalactite before Poe does.]
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Date: 2018-01-30 04:10 am (UTC)Like I said. Outside of a cockpit. [ He runs his hand up the side of the crystal, half-expecting it to be warm. There's little runnels and build-ups here and there, like the pillar is made of transparent wax instead of stone, melting from some unfelt heat. ] I can't believe this has been here the whole time and no one found it before now.
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Date: 2018-01-30 05:40 am (UTC)Vroooom. Brrrrrrt.
[Yes, he making a plane, and he's grinning at Poe like a ten year old boy while he does it. Poe's in a good mood. He's in a good mood. If they make it out of the cave in a good mood, and in one piece, with their clothes on, it'll be a new record.]
It's an F-35.
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Date: 2018-01-31 05:40 am (UTC)Poe forms a bird with his hands, holding it up in front of the crystal and trying to keep a straight face as a couple walks by giving the two men funny looks. ]
A whisper bird.
They don't make any noises.
[ Cue the multilegged cave bug crawling out from between two of the crystal pillars, which immediately gets Poe's attention. ] Oh, hey. I wonder what it eats.
[ This isn't exactly a critter-friendly environment, so far as he can tell. ]
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Date: 2018-01-31 11:04 pm (UTC)[John's surveyed a lot of planets, but he's never really taken the time to stop and smell the alien roses. There's always a mission. Some important task that needs doing, and usually done yesterday. John can't remember the last time he noticed any wildlife that wasn't actively trying to kill him.
Poe makes John wish he'd paid more attention. Actually looked instead of just saw.]
What what eats?
[John tears his eyes away from Poe's face to look where he's looking, and freezes.
Bug. Big bug. Big dark bug. Big dark bug near him.
A lot happens in the next second. John makes a startled noise, jumps a good couple feet into the air, backwards, reaches for his sidearm, which isn't there, reaches for his rifle, which also isn't there, grabs onto Poe, yanks him back, and doesn't let go. Whether John is shielding Poe with his body or clinging onto him for dear life is unclear.
John points at the bug with one finger, definitely more behind Poe than in front of him. But with one arm across Poe's chest. He really can't make up his mind.]
NO!
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Date: 2018-01-31 11:26 pm (UTC)Easy! Easy. It's okay.
[ The bug has frozen in place, one antennae bobbing, multifaceted eyes emotionless. Another moment of stillness from the two men and it crawls on its way again, down to the base of the crystal and closer to them for a moment before it circles back and disappears between a fresh pair of stones.
Poe doesn't really care about the others staring at them. He doesn't really care about the bug, either, except to be grateful it's gone. He doesn't want John to try and kill it when it hadn't been doing anything but existing, terror or no. ]
Let's go.
[ His tone is one that won't tolerate argument. ]
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Date: 2018-01-31 11:53 pm (UTC)Poe says something, but he doesn’t hear it. John can’t look away. Not even as bile burns up the back of his throat, and he thinks he could be sick, right here, in front of all these people, in front of Poe. He grits his teeth and swallows it down.
The bug stops. Retreats. Goes back to whatever hell it came from.
John looks up and around the cavern. How many more are there? Where could they be hiding? Suddenly the moving shadows between skews of refracted light don’t seem so innocent. John’s eyes dart back and forth. His hand twitches towards his hip again.
It’s Poe’s voice that brings him back. John snaps to, straightening slowly. He’d been half-crouched, poised for action. ]
But…
[He looks at Poe helplessly. Wanting to argue, but without a leg to stand on. He looks down.
John’s fingers curl in on themselves, digging into his palms. No claws. He’s fine. He’s still himself. All of him.
For whatever that’s worth. Right now, it doesn't feel like a lot.]
Okay.
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Date: 2018-02-01 05:14 pm (UTC)He can come back and look at the crystals again later. Right now his priority is getting John back out in the sunlight.
Sure is a cave.
Poe wants to ask. He really, really wants to ask. He's not going to. ]
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Date: 2018-02-01 05:58 pm (UTC)John planned this outing with the intent to help Poe out of a dark place, and he’d FUBARed.
They exit the cave to bright skies and fresh air. John hates how much of a relief it is. Hates himself for being so goddamn weak, and ruining a good thing. If he’d left an impression on Poe, it was the wrong one.
The best he can do now is pull himself up by his bootstraps and refuse to be any more of a burden than he already is. John quietly sucks in a deep breath, laughs sheepishly, and looks at Poe with an embarrassed smile he hopes isn’t half as weak as it feels.]
Sorry. Guess I have a thing about bugs. Usually I just shoot 'em.
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Date: 2018-02-02 08:57 pm (UTC)Poe gives John's shoulder a tiny squeeze. ] What were you thinking for dinner?
[ That's it. That's all there is to it, as far as Poe is concerned. John needed to get out, they got out. He wouldn't take back the action no matter how many reassurances John offered. There's no apology necessary, no explanation needed. ]
I'd go for anything but pizza, actually. Finn and I have had a lot of that lately.
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Date: 2018-02-04 12:34 am (UTC)[How does Poe does it? Somehow, he always seems to know the right thing to say. Or maybe it's just that John likes hearing it, coming from his mouth, as someone who's gone through similar experiences, and has similar issues, and isn't just sympathizing, or feeling sorry for him.
And as someone John likes. Likes a lot.
John turns his head to look at Poe, is compelled to kiss him, because he's kind, and he's him. He chews on his lower lip, thinks about it, but there are people coming down the stairs towards them, and John isn't sure where Poe stands in regards to PDA. Or being seen with John in public, that way.]
I dunno, Italian, maybe?
That's... noodle dishes, and bread. Lots of carbs. Wine.
[And candles. Low lighting. Quiet. Maybe even a piano.
John slaps himself on the wrist, mentally, not for the first time since planning today. This isn't a date. Poe didn't agree to a date. They're just hanging out together.]
Or there's a cheap dim-sum place. If you're really hungry, and want to eat a little bit of everything.
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Date: 2018-02-04 03:03 am (UTC)[ John has no context for why that matters whoops. Still.
Poe scratches his chin. He's been leery of alcohol ever since that night when John came to get him, for more reasons than preparedness. He's never gotten that drunk before. He never wants to be that drunk again. Sure, wine wouldn't be his poison of choice for that purpose, but he's still gunshy. ]
What's dim-sum? Never had that one.
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Date: 2018-02-04 03:44 am (UTC)It's not exactly the same stuff as back home, on Earth, but it's pretty close. There's seafood, meat, noodles and rice, desserts, all sorts of stuff. Kinda greasy, and full of MSG, but that's part of the experience.
I always eat too much and wind up in a coma. Not a real coma. A food coma.
[First world problems. People on Earth really don't know how good they have it. John's not entirely proud of the state of his planet. There's more than enough to feed everyone, yet a minority of people get fat living in excess, while the majority starves.
The longer John's away from Earth, the less he misses it.]
This place isn't anywhere fancy, hell, it's kind of a hole in the wall, but the food is legit. Tea's good too.
[It's also the least romantic place John can think of, but if it's what Poe wants to eat, it's where they'll go. As long as he's enjoying himself, John will enjoy himself too. This isn't about him, or what he wants.]
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Date: 2018-02-04 04:04 am (UTC)One of my favorite parts of visiting new planets is finding the holes in the wall with the best food.
[ He closes his eyes, remembering the play of light in the crystals. ] Thank you. For this.
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Date: 2018-02-04 04:23 am (UTC)[The look on Poe's face seals it. A friend is what Poe needs right now, and a friend is what John's going to be. Nothing more, nothing less. Not unless Poe indicates otherwise. John's going to do his best not to be selfish.
It used to be easy, to put his friends first, and himself last. John doesn't know what's gotten over him lately. Whether it's losing Atlantis, and his people, or if it's just the nature of this place, where everyone is an outsider, and all anyone can do is cling to each other for comfort.
That, or John's just getting more lonely, and more screwed up with time. He can't blame Riverview for all his problems. Even back in Atlantis, everyone is shacking up, having babies, and getting married, or simply finding someone to keep them warm at night, but him.
He's too busy, or was. Now he has more time than he knows what to do with, and no one to spend that time with. There's Silva, and Rodney, but...
This isn't his pity party. He needs to keep his mind on track, for Poe's sake.]
It's not far from here, want to walk? I wouldn't mind the fresh air.
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Date: 2018-02-08 04:02 am (UTC)[ Now that he's out in the open, now that he's gotten a taste of fresh air, Poe is reminded how little he's been out the past week. Apartment to Guard to Apartment with very little in between.
John is so good this, at doing this, at drawing him out or picking him up. Karen is always there when Poe needs her, is steady and solid and willing to support him without hearing every detail, when he's not ready to share them. John, somehow, makes it easy to share. John draws the infection from the wound, and Karen stitches it back together again.
( He loves them, he loves them both, in a way he won't let himself recognize, for reasons he knows too well. A hundred excuses that guard his heart and keep him from the danger of leaving someone behind. )
He walks with his hands tucked into his pockets, quiet, thinking about John and his warmth and his humor and his eyes, not delving into why, staying in the shallows where affection is safe. He leans over and bumps John's shoulder with his own. ]
We could always do a nature survey some time, out past the wall. No bugs there you can't shoot.
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Date: 2018-02-08 05:02 am (UTC)It feels so damn good to be touched, even in the smallest of ways. Those moments of familiarity, and of fondness, make John feel so much lighter. Like if he reaches up, he can touch the sky. It's almost as good as flying.
Better than flying, when they're alone, and Poe looks at him in that way he does, with those big, dark eyes of his, like John's all he sees, or is thinking about.
Even if it isn't true. Sometimes, when they're alone, John can fool himself.]
Yeah. I'd like that. Hell, we could pack a picnic basket. Make a day of it.
[John's only half joking. He's American. He loves a good picnic. They're almost as fun to pack as they are to eat. He enjoys putting two of everything he can think of that the other person make like, wrapping it all individually. Planning out something simple and good for someone he cares about, instead of a battle plan for an enemy.
The days he spends thinking more about the Wraith than his own people are the worst.]
If you can get rid of the bugs before they get near me, I won't even shoot 'em.
In honour of your nature-loving spirit.
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Date: 2018-02-18 10:46 pm (UTC)They get back to Poe's place as it's starting to get dark. Poe unlocks the door and opens it to BB-8's loud, annoyed whistlebooping as the droid rolls over to demand information about where Poe has been all day. He grins down at the droid and motions John inside. ]
Want to come in?
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Date: 2018-02-23 03:39 pm (UTC)They walk back to Poe's place, and John stops a few feet back from the door. He doesn't expect anything. Doesn't even want to look like he does. He's happy enough to say bye from that distance, a safe distance, for both of them.
Then Poe invites him in. John blinks, glancing back over both shoulders. There's no one behind him, and he didn't think there was, but Poe's never invited him in, or over, before. It's always John's place, and John's bed, or wall, or door...
He swallows, butterflies dancing violently in his stomach. They're a little dusty, but still alive, apparently.]
Now?
[Smooth, John.]
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Date: 2018-02-23 11:20 pm (UTC)[ No pressure, no expectations, no small amount of amusement. Poe finds himself charmed again by John’s glance over his shoulders, saddened again by how surprised John seems by every little gesture.
(Make more of them, Poe thinks, and he feels his own small twinge of fear.) ]
Finn’s out on a shift, so we have the place to ourselves. [ He lifts one shoulder in a shrug and BB-8 chirps a reminder that no they do not have the place to themselves. Poe nudges the droid with his toes. ] Mostly to ourselves.
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Date: 2018-02-23 11:39 pm (UTC)[Is that what they're doing? John has no idea. He's stared half-mad warlords in the eye during negotiations and had a better idea of what was happening. With Poe, John just doesn't know. Everything about their relationship, or lack thereof, has been left purposefully vague. Fuzzy around the edges.
Which is usually how John likes it. Or thought he did.
His heart thumps once, like a sonic boom, as he steps around Poe (and BB-8) into Poe's home. It's unfamiliar territory. John maps the windows, doors and barriers with a quick scan of his eyes before noting any surface details. Habit.
Turns out there aren't many. Poe and Finn's place is about as barren as his and Rodney's. All that really stands out are the makeshift beds on the living room floor.]
I like what you've done with the place. You're really running with the whole living room concept.
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Date: 2018-02-23 11:53 pm (UTC)He reaches the kitchen, ducking down to a cabinet next to the fridge and pausing there. ]
Want a drink? Booze or nonbooze?
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Date: 2018-02-24 12:15 am (UTC)It's none of his business what Poe does in the time they're apart, or with who. He repeats it, each time more sternly than the last, with expletives thrown in for good measure. Always in the voice of his old drill-instructor. Wrestling his jealousy into submission, and back down into the small, dark crack in his heart it crawled out of. Where it belongs.
John follows Poe to the kitchen, leaning in with his elbows on the counter and a half-smile.]
Yeah, sure. Got any beer?
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Date: 2018-02-24 01:59 am (UTC)Bottle openers are for plebs apparently.
Poe is, unsurprisingly, oblivious to the jealousy. He pours himself a small shot of whiskey and takes a sip, savoring the flavor of smoke and the burn in his throat. He watches John over the glass, studying those galaxy eyes, wanting to kiss that thin, expressive mouth. He reaches out and hooks his thumb over the band of John’s pants and tries to pull him close. ] How long can you stay?
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