[ Deep breath. Exhale. Poe puts his arms back around John, this time in an embrace. ] Okay.
[ He doesn't know how to express what it means, that he tried to back away and John held on. He doesn't know how to say thank you for love he feels like he doesn't deserve, right now. Kindness he hasn't earned.
Poe turns his head so he's resting his temple against John's shoulder. Loosens his hug until he can back up a step and look over at John's bed.
Does he want someone at close quarters?
Yes. Yes, he does. He doesn't want the dreams that might come from sleeping alone. ]
Together. [ God, he's tired. He's more tired than he was in that alley, when all he wanted was to lay down beside his own vomit and drop into the black.
That wasn't the man his mother would want him to be.
One who asks for help, one who accepts it--that's the man his father would want him to be. Tears or no tears, liquor or none. Someone who gives love and receives it with equal grace.
Poe touches his mother's ring lightly. Then he leans forward and kisses John on the cheek. ]
[Poe kisses John’s cheek, and for a moment, John sees the light. Feels the warmth of it on his face, through the gentle contact of Poe’s lips. Intimacy. John almost doesn’t recognize it, at first. Every once in a while his friends remind him what it feels like. And it feels good. Better than sex. Better than speed. Better than the wall John’s built around himself, so no one can hurt him, or be hurt by him.
Maybe one day he’ll be brave enough to try knocking it down. Brave like Poe is, for trusting him. For allowing himself to be helped. For accepting John’s love, when John is too afraid to accept Poe’s love, or anyone else’s.
He directs Poe to the bed with one hand on the space between his shoulders, gently pushing him to sit, and sitting down beside him. Only a few minutes ago, keeping Poe out of his bed had been one of the greatest personal challenge’s John’s ever faced, but that moment has passed, and John’s blood has cooled. All he can feel now is his heart, and how slow it’s beating, calm, and steady, as he guides Poe to lie down and lays behind him.
John kicks off his own shoes onto the floor and reaches down to yank up the blanket. After sleeping in full gear on sand and cement floor, wearing jeans and a t-shirt is nothing. He drapes one arm loosely over Poe’s waist, and settles his head on the pillow. Suddenly, John is very tired. The most tired he’s been since Rodney dragged his drunk ass home from the ball, and barely managed to wrangle him into bed. Talk about karma.
Usually, John struggles to fall asleep, but his eyelids are already feeling heavy. It’s been one hell of a night.]
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no subject
[ He doesn't know how to express what it means, that he tried to back away and John held on. He doesn't know how to say thank you for love he feels like he doesn't deserve, right now. Kindness he hasn't earned.
Poe turns his head so he's resting his temple against John's shoulder. Loosens his hug until he can back up a step and look over at John's bed.
Does he want someone at close quarters?
Yes. Yes, he does. He doesn't want the dreams that might come from sleeping alone. ]
Together. [ God, he's tired. He's more tired than he was in that alley, when all he wanted was to lay down beside his own vomit and drop into the black.
That wasn't the man his mother would want him to be.
One who asks for help, one who accepts it--that's the man his father would want him to be. Tears or no tears, liquor or none. Someone who gives love and receives it with equal grace.
Poe touches his mother's ring lightly. Then he leans forward and kisses John on the cheek. ]
no subject
Maybe one day he’ll be brave enough to try knocking it down. Brave like Poe is, for trusting him. For allowing himself to be helped. For accepting John’s love, when John is too afraid to accept Poe’s love, or anyone else’s.
He directs Poe to the bed with one hand on the space between his shoulders, gently pushing him to sit, and sitting down beside him. Only a few minutes ago, keeping Poe out of his bed had been one of the greatest personal challenge’s John’s ever faced, but that moment has passed, and John’s blood has cooled. All he can feel now is his heart, and how slow it’s beating, calm, and steady, as he guides Poe to lie down and lays behind him.
John kicks off his own shoes onto the floor and reaches down to yank up the blanket. After sleeping in full gear on sand and cement floor, wearing jeans and a t-shirt is nothing. He drapes one arm loosely over Poe’s waist, and settles his head on the pillow. Suddenly, John is very tired. The most tired he’s been since Rodney dragged his drunk ass home from the ball, and barely managed to wrangle him into bed. Talk about karma.
Usually, John struggles to fall asleep, but his eyelids are already feeling heavy. It’s been one hell of a night.]
How’s that? You comfy?
no subject
He makes a noise, an affirmative response, muscles going slack, eyes drifting shut.
All it takes this time is letting go.
The darkness this time isn't an enemy. ]