[As soon as the door closes, John's back is against it. Mostly because a very attractive, very shirtless man, with water still dripping down his face and neck, trickling in rivulets down from the thick of his mass of curly hair, is currently occupying the centre of his room.
Also because it feels safe. As far away as he can stand from Poe, whose body he really would like to touch, given the chance. From a too-short distance, John's eyes take in olive skin, the stretch of taut scar tissue over rippling muscle, the glint of Poe's necklace against the flat of his chest, just below the slope of his collarbone.
That, he can look at without feeling guilty. His gaze cuts up from the washer to Poe's face. Fresher, and more alert than just a few minutes ago.
no subject
Also because it feels safe. As far away as he can stand from Poe, whose body he really would like to touch, given the chance. From a too-short distance, John's eyes take in olive skin, the stretch of taut scar tissue over rippling muscle, the glint of Poe's necklace against the flat of his chest, just below the slope of his collarbone.
That, he can look at without feeling guilty. His gaze cuts up from the washer to Poe's face. Fresher, and more alert than just a few minutes ago.
Still drunk.]
What's that?