[John's playing with a remote controlled air-ship, feet kicked up on his desk. A doughnut, a cup of coffee, and a newspaper sit beside him-- half a crossword finished. Someone is a very bust, very important man.
He doesn't look up right away, expecting Finn or Chyler. They don't get a lot of visitors. RR-1's office used to be a large janitorial closet. Most people don't know it exists. John likes it that way.
The ship whirs in circles around the ceiling fan in tight circles. They don't call him an ace pilot for nothing.]
Close the door, don't let the draft in. You'll mess up my flight pattern.
[ Poe does as he’s bid, stepping into the office and carefully closing the door. He gets distracted watching John’s maneuvers, but even the obvious skill John has just makes Poe more nervous somehow.
He clears his throat. ]
So, um. [ Poe keeps his eyes on fan and shop. ] You look like you’re feeling better.
[John hears Poe's voice and the ship takes a nosedive. He barely pulls up in time to save it from being smashed into the corner of Chyler's desk, the propellers scattering her papers all over the floor. Oops.
Ace pilot. That's him.
John looks up, removes his feet from the desk, and does his best impersonation of a casual human. It involves picking up a mug and hovering it near his mouth without drinking, the remote control still held in one hand.]
Uh, yeah. You know. I didn't actually get banged up all that hard.
You look good. Better, I mean. More alive.
[A nod, sipping his coffee, which from the look on his face he obviously forgot to put sugar in.]
[ The surge of affection Poe feels when he sees John’s expression twist over his coffee is almost alarming. God, he missed this man, he missed him so much. ]
Thanks. I feel more, y’know. That. [ He fingers the thin scab that runs behind his ear. ] Uh. I had a question.
[John takes another sip, because what else is he supposed to do. Another slightly lesser cringe.
He has some idea where this conversation is going. They'd kissed (and more) under duress. Poe is here to make sure John knows it didn't mean anything.]
[ There’s a reason Poe didn’t bring BB-8 with him to this little meeting. Now that he knows John can understand the droid, he didn’t want Bee getting to the point before Poe himself could manage it. ]
Want to do something? Go... somewhere. Just us, just around here, for fun?
[ Why is that word so hard to say. He drags a hand through his hair and pretends to be interested in the flowers on Chyler’s desk. ] Like a date, I mean. Not like a date, an actual one.
[John stops pretending to drink his coffee and sits back in his chair.
He really looks at Poe for the first time since he walked through the door. Poe, with his beautiful brown eyes, beautiful face, and his beautiful soul. He's a good person at heart. John knows that.
It's why he fell in love with him. And why John wasn't surprised when Poe left.
People like Poe don't stay with men like John Sheppard.]
[ Poe looks at John properly, somewhere between hurt, angry, and confused. It's not a nice cocktail, and even as he tries to keep it to himself, he doesn't do a very good job. He never does a good job of hiding his emotions. ]
That's not-- I'm not doing it because I have to do it, or because I think I have to. I thought-- I thought--
[ Poe falters. Force, was he wrong? Does John not think of what happened out there the same way he does? ]
I wanted to do it right this time. I wanted to do it right. If there's gonna be an us, I mean, if you wanted. You don't have to.
[ He can feel heat in his cheeks and is glad, not for the first time, that his blushes don't really show. Talk about embarrassing.
He clears his throat, trying for all he's worth to sound casual. ]
I'll let you get back to.... [ Work? ] ...to what you were doing.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[John's playing with a remote controlled air-ship, feet kicked up on his desk. A doughnut, a cup of coffee, and a newspaper sit beside him-- half a crossword finished. Someone is a very bust, very important man.
He doesn't look up right away, expecting Finn or Chyler. They don't get a lot of visitors. RR-1's office used to be a large janitorial closet. Most people don't know it exists. John likes it that way.
The ship whirs in circles around the ceiling fan in tight circles. They don't call him an ace pilot for nothing.]
Close the door, don't let the draft in. You'll mess up my flight pattern.
no subject
He clears his throat. ]
So, um. [ Poe keeps his eyes on fan and shop. ] You look like you’re feeling better.
no subject
Ace pilot. That's him.
John looks up, removes his feet from the desk, and does his best impersonation of a casual human. It involves picking up a mug and hovering it near his mouth without drinking, the remote control still held in one hand.]
Uh, yeah. You know. I didn't actually get banged up all that hard.
You look good. Better, I mean. More alive.
[A nod, sipping his coffee, which from the look on his face he obviously forgot to put sugar in.]
no subject
Thanks. I feel more, y’know. That. [ He fingers the thin scab that runs behind his ear. ] Uh. I had a question.
no subject
He has some idea where this conversation is going. They'd kissed (and more) under duress. Poe is here to make sure John knows it didn't mean anything.]
Shoot.
no subject
[ There’s a reason Poe didn’t bring BB-8 with him to this little meeting. Now that he knows John can understand the droid, he didn’t want Bee getting to the point before Poe himself could manage it. ]
Want to do something? Go... somewhere. Just us, just around here, for fun?
[ Why is that word so hard to say. He drags a hand through his hair and pretends to be interested in the flowers on Chyler’s desk. ] Like a date, I mean. Not like a date, an actual one.
no subject
[John stops pretending to drink his coffee and sits back in his chair.
He really looks at Poe for the first time since he walked through the door. Poe, with his beautiful brown eyes, beautiful face, and his beautiful soul. He's a good person at heart. John knows that.
It's why he fell in love with him. And why John wasn't surprised when Poe left.
People like Poe don't stay with men like John Sheppard.]
You don't have to do this, just because we...
no subject
That's not-- I'm not doing it because I have to do it, or because I think I have to. I thought-- I thought--
[ Poe falters. Force, was he wrong? Does John not think of what happened out there the same way he does? ]
I wanted to do it right this time. I wanted to do it right. If there's gonna be an us, I mean, if you wanted. You don't have to.
[ He can feel heat in his cheeks and is glad, not for the first time, that his blushes don't really show. Talk about embarrassing.
He clears his throat, trying for all he's worth to sound casual. ]
I'll let you get back to.... [ Work? ] ...to what you were doing.