[John looks into those eyes, dark and soulful, looking back at him with a sadness reflecting the hurt in his own heart. Selflessly, or selfishly, John won't leave him.
Can't.
It's not about the sex, not right now, but they're not men of words. They're men of action. Sex is just a medium used to convey emotions left unsaid. A way to connect with body and touch, and to speak truth with voices lost or forgotten. John's become so used to suffering in silence that he doesn't know how to cry, and Poe has his own demons.
He answers Poe with his lips, kissing him again, hard, arms draping loosely over his broad shoulders. John wants him, and he's not leaving. Hands following the outline of Poe's scapula, fingers digging into the tense pillars of muscle on either side of Poe's spine. Fingertips tracing the curve of Poe's ribcage, heaving beneath his touch, to his solar plexus.
His hands reach Poe's shoulders again. He almost can't bear to break the kiss, but he remembers Poe in his fear, himself in his fear that night when Poe pried him out of himself, kicking and screaming, into a freedom he'd never known until that night.
John draws back, looking at Poe again, holding him with his eyes, and pushes down. Gently. Firmly. To his knees. Where John commanded him.]
[ Poe folds. There's one moment, one breath of resistance that's more instinct than intent, and then he's down on his knees with John's hands on his shoulders, too relieved by the kiss and the touching to really protest.
( He wouldn't protest either way, but he tells himself relief is the reason. )
He grips the backs of John's thighs through the man's pants, pressing his face against John's clothed inner thigh and feeling the scrape of cloth instead of the gentle pliancy of skin. He reaches up to try and pull John's pants down, glancing upward as he does to make sure he has some kind of permission to do it.
His heart feels about ready to explode its way out between his ribs like rapid blaster fire. There are a thousand things he wants right now, not the least of which is to run far and fast from the admission that John is someone more important a casual partner. But more than that he wants to show the man, to prove to John that he is more important than that.
Poe kisses one of John's iliac crests, leaves a line of kisses down his pelvis to his dick. Rests his face for another moment against John's body.
Then he kisses John's penis, tongues his way along its length to the head, and takes it in his mouth. ]
[John's fingers carve through the thick of Poe's hair, pushing it back from his face. He can't look away. Poe is submitting, but John is no less enthralled by him. His breath is quiet, but quick, his body vibrating beneath Poe's lips, every kiss sparking something deeper and more fulfilling than simple pleasure.
It's different this time. More intimate. Poe's never hesitated to go down on him, but he doesn't usually take his time, either. There's always a sense of urgency when they fuck, a rush to get each other out of their clothes, and get each other off. Rough, and a little careless. Just two men knocking boots between missions.
The warm wet of Poe's mouth makes him gasp. John's hands go to base of his skull, cradling his head. Supporting and encouraging him. He wants to see more of this side of Poe. Gentle and giving. Scared, but brave. Strong enough to risk tenderness. The heart and soul of the rebellion, who refuses to give up hope. He could, and is, falling in love with him.
Poe's always beautiful, but like this? John would fight a war for him.
[ Poe eases his lips and tongue back and forth over the head and length of John's cock, a little deeper each time, choking once, muscles in his throat spasming lightly at the invasion. One hand on John's thigh, the other gliding up and down John's penis as Poe moves, slicking John with spit. He uses his tongue to push John's dick up against the roof of his mouth, rolls the roughness of his palate against John's head.
He can't get enough of the feel of John's hands against his head, in his hair. He tugs lightly on John's thigh, pushing John deeper in, choking himself again, intentionally this time. He can't talk like this, not with words, he can't give himself up vocally, but he can do it with his mouth, his hands. Poe shifts his fingers from John's dick to his balls, running his thumb over the sensitive skin in the cleft between them, then dragging his nail across the same place. ]
[John's head tips back, gasping as Poe chokes him down the back of his throat, hotter and tighter than John can process. His nails scrape Poe's scalp, fingers twisting into his hair, pulling hard enough to hurt, then releasing, stroking soothingly, only to twist again with the next bob of Poe's head.
Men know how to touch other men, whether or not they want to admit it. Poe's callused fingers dragging over John's thinnest, most sensitive skin make his dick jerk in Poe's mouth. He almost comes right there, just from looking down at him, and being overwhelmed by Poe's attention, and his eagerness to please. His hunger.
For once, John feels like his want has been matched.]
Stop.
[Growled low and deep from the base of his chest, because he's right there on the edge, more animal than man. John inhales through his nose, steeling himself. He wants nothing more than to empty his balls down the back of Poe's throat, but he needs to maintain control. Poe needs to know he will stay strong when Poe needs him to be strong, no matter what.]
[ Poe stops. He eases his hand away from John's balls, his mouth away from John's cock, giving the head a light suck before he lets go entirely. Then he stands up. He can feel spit slicking the corner of his mouth and reaches up to wipe it away. He's still strangely nervous, not sure he wants to be seen, not in the way he feels like John can do it.
He's breathing harder than his own exertion warrants.
He doesn't know what to do. What to say. So he stands there, hands fussing awkwardly with the hems of his jeans, then shifting to the pockets of his jacket, then back down to his sides again. ]
What should.... [ He reaches out to brush his fingertips along the side of John's cock, feeling like he should be working still. ] What else?
[John drags his thumb over Poe's lower lip, wiping that streak of saliva away. Poe might not want to be seen, but John's looking at him, and he likes what he sees. Flushed cheeks. Wet mouth. Dark eyes, and the heat burning behind them.
He can't help but wonder if Poe knows he takes peoples breath away. John knows he's not the only one. You only have to be near Poe to be pulled into his orbit. He's magnetic. Special, in some way John's always wanted to be, but never has.
Not until Poe made him feel that way. Even if it was only the one time.
John wants to feel that way again. Needs to. He's lonely, and greedy, and Poe is unfortunate enough to have met him.
His hand drags down to the base of Poe's throat, settles there, heavy, before pulling him close. So they're toe to toe. Chest to chest. Eye to eye.
One whispered order passing from his lips to Poe's.]
[ Poe likes the feel of John's hand around his neck. He's done breathplay before. He likes it, though he rarely trusts people to do it.
He would trust John.
Poe pushes forward, pressing his own throat against the curve of John's hand so he can kiss the man. Taking that little liberty while still in John's control. ]
[He strokes the side of Poe's throat with his thumb. He likes the way his adam's apple moves beneath his hand as he speaks. Masculine. Delicate. He squeezes gently as they kiss, fiercely claiming his lips.
He doesn't pull back before speaking. Poe will feel what he says more than he hears him.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2018-02-25 04:57 am (UTC)Can't.
It's not about the sex, not right now, but they're not men of words. They're men of action. Sex is just a medium used to convey emotions left unsaid. A way to connect with body and touch, and to speak truth with voices lost or forgotten. John's become so used to suffering in silence that he doesn't know how to cry, and Poe has his own demons.
He answers Poe with his lips, kissing him again, hard, arms draping loosely over his broad shoulders. John wants him, and he's not leaving. Hands following the outline of Poe's scapula, fingers digging into the tense pillars of muscle on either side of Poe's spine. Fingertips tracing the curve of Poe's ribcage, heaving beneath his touch, to his solar plexus.
His hands reach Poe's shoulders again. He almost can't bear to break the kiss, but he remembers Poe in his fear, himself in his fear that night when Poe pried him out of himself, kicking and screaming, into a freedom he'd never known until that night.
John draws back, looking at Poe again, holding him with his eyes, and pushes down. Gently. Firmly. To his knees. Where John commanded him.]
no subject
Date: 2018-02-25 05:20 am (UTC)( He wouldn't protest either way, but he tells himself relief is the reason. )
He grips the backs of John's thighs through the man's pants, pressing his face against John's clothed inner thigh and feeling the scrape of cloth instead of the gentle pliancy of skin. He reaches up to try and pull John's pants down, glancing upward as he does to make sure he has some kind of permission to do it.
His heart feels about ready to explode its way out between his ribs like rapid blaster fire. There are a thousand things he wants right now, not the least of which is to run far and fast from the admission that John is someone more important a casual partner. But more than that he wants to show the man, to prove to John that he is more important than that.
Poe kisses one of John's iliac crests, leaves a line of kisses down his pelvis to his dick. Rests his face for another moment against John's body.
Then he kisses John's penis, tongues his way along its length to the head, and takes it in his mouth. ]
no subject
Date: 2018-02-26 01:43 am (UTC)It's different this time. More intimate. Poe's never hesitated to go down on him, but he doesn't usually take his time, either. There's always a sense of urgency when they fuck, a rush to get each other out of their clothes, and get each other off. Rough, and a little careless. Just two men knocking boots between missions.
The warm wet of Poe's mouth makes him gasp. John's hands go to base of his skull, cradling his head. Supporting and encouraging him. He wants to see more of this side of Poe. Gentle and giving. Scared, but brave. Strong enough to risk tenderness. The heart and soul of the rebellion, who refuses to give up hope. He could, and is, falling in love with him.
Poe's always beautiful, but like this? John would fight a war for him.
He would win Poe's war for him.]
no subject
Date: 2018-03-03 11:50 pm (UTC)He can't get enough of the feel of John's hands against his head, in his hair. He tugs lightly on John's thigh, pushing John deeper in, choking himself again, intentionally this time. He can't talk like this, not with words, he can't give himself up vocally, but he can do it with his mouth, his hands. Poe shifts his fingers from John's dick to his balls, running his thumb over the sensitive skin in the cleft between them, then dragging his nail across the same place. ]
no subject
Date: 2018-03-04 02:21 am (UTC)Men know how to touch other men, whether or not they want to admit it. Poe's callused fingers dragging over John's thinnest, most sensitive skin make his dick jerk in Poe's mouth. He almost comes right there, just from looking down at him, and being overwhelmed by Poe's attention, and his eagerness to please. His hunger.
For once, John feels like his want has been matched.]
Stop.
[Growled low and deep from the base of his chest, because he's right there on the edge, more animal than man. John inhales through his nose, steeling himself. He wants nothing more than to empty his balls down the back of Poe's throat, but he needs to maintain control. Poe needs to know he will stay strong when Poe needs him to be strong, no matter what.]
Stand up. I want to see you.
no subject
Date: 2018-03-05 06:57 am (UTC)He's breathing harder than his own exertion warrants.
He doesn't know what to do. What to say. So he stands there, hands fussing awkwardly with the hems of his jeans, then shifting to the pockets of his jacket, then back down to his sides again. ]
What should.... [ He reaches out to brush his fingertips along the side of John's cock, feeling like he should be working still. ] What else?
no subject
Date: 2018-04-14 11:17 pm (UTC)He can't help but wonder if Poe knows he takes peoples breath away. John knows he's not the only one. You only have to be near Poe to be pulled into his orbit. He's magnetic. Special, in some way John's always wanted to be, but never has.
Not until Poe made him feel that way. Even if it was only the one time.
John wants to feel that way again. Needs to. He's lonely, and greedy, and Poe is unfortunate enough to have met him.
His hand drags down to the base of Poe's throat, settles there, heavy, before pulling him close. So they're toe to toe. Chest to chest. Eye to eye.
One whispered order passing from his lips to Poe's.]
Fuck me.
no subject
Date: 2018-05-20 03:08 pm (UTC)He would trust John.
Poe pushes forward, pressing his own throat against the curve of John's hand so he can kiss the man. Taking that little liberty while still in John's control. ]
Where?
no subject
Date: 2018-06-24 04:09 am (UTC)He doesn't pull back before speaking. Poe will feel what he says more than he hears him.]
Right here.