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Lt. Col. John Sheppard ([personal profile] deploy) wrote2017-11-11 05:50 pm

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volitaunt: (Default)

[personal profile] volitaunt 2018-01-18 05:49 am (UTC)(link)
Don’t worry about it. [ He looks into John's face, his own expression steady enough as to be almost unreadable, eyes soft and bright.

Poe kisses him again, lips and tongue, mild, then rougher. Teeth. He pushes against John, holding the other man's hands at his sides, squeezing his wrists against just to prove a point before he lets go and splays his fingers lightly against the length of John's dick. Runs his thumb over the head, slicking his own skin and rubbing circles with his thumb until his hand sinks into the hair at the base. He cups John's balls, raking his thumbnail lightly against the cleft of skin between them.

He never stops kissing John, not for a moment. Doesn't give him a chance to breathe, never mind think. Poe wants to push. He wants to take John over the edge before he pulls him back, drive him to the brink and take it away. Force Sheppard to exist in a state of suspended stimulation until he stops worrying about anyone else and just wants his own release. ]
Edited 2018-01-18 06:24 (UTC)
volitaunt: (052 - XRNUPxw)

[personal profile] volitaunt 2018-01-18 05:54 pm (UTC)(link)
[ And Poe eases up. He winds down. Gentles his kisses, eases his hand back up John's cock.

Then he kneels.

Ignores John's hard-on.

Starts unlacing John's boots, one, then the other, taking his time. He cups one heel and draws off boot and then sock, forcing John to lift his foot. He smooths his hand over the top of John's arch, leans down to kiss the spot. Poe gives John's other boot, his other foot the same attention.

He isn't going to make this easy. John doesn't need easy. He doesn't need brief, rough, fun. It's one-half instinct and one-half self-knowledge on Poe's part. They're similar. In some ways they're exactly the same.

Cassian knows the fractures in his spirit. Finn knows the fear that runs along the fault lines of his heart. Leia... Leia knows his soul. John has Rodney, here, but sometimes one person to lean on isn't enough. Isn't nearly enough.

John has lost enough people to state that fact calmly. He's suffered enough to offer comfort without emotion, without getting himself involved. Steady and unselfish. Speaking from the top of a wall.

He kisses John's inner thigh, tongue and teeth, working his way up. His temple brushes John's erection and Poe shifts back, taking John's dick in his mouth, easing the head up against the roof of his mouth and running his tongue in circles along its underside. ]
Edited 2018-01-18 17:57 (UTC)
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[personal profile] volitaunt 2018-01-18 07:27 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Once again Poe reaches up and wraps his hands around John's wrists. He draws his mouth away from John's penis and eases to his feet, tugging John's hands out of his hair, even though it stings a little, tangled up as John's fingers are. ] No.

[ A kiss that's just the gentle press of lips against John's cheek. He lets go of one of John's wrists, keeping his grip on the other.

Poe leans down and tongues one of John's nipples, pressing the thumb of his free hand against the other, rotating it gently under the pad of his thumb. He squeezes John's wrist, speaking against the man's skin. ]
Not yet.

[ Reel in, let out. He trails his fingertips down along John's ribs, pausing and exploring each scar he finds on the way. Poe knows what's happened to his own body. He wonders how many of these are from torture, how many from battles that cost John dearly to win.

He rests his chin against John's pectoral, looking up at him from under long lashes. A tiny, tiny smile twitches the corner of his lip. ]
You don't get off that easy.
volitaunt: (119)

[personal profile] volitaunt 2018-01-18 10:44 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Poe sees the difference. He likes this smile. He'll hold on to it, that tentative honesty. It also tells him that finally, finally, John is being real. Finally, he's past pretending. Or maybe it's that Poe has scaled the walls. He knows better than to think he's knocked them down.

You'd deserve it, John says, and Poe's own small smile spreads into a grin. ]


Probably.

[ He eases upright again and kisses that smile, one corner of John's mouth, the other, then tongue, teeth, deepening intensity that Poe pauses just long enough to murmur, ] Now you can touch me.
Edited 2018-01-18 22:44 (UTC)
volitaunt: (pic#12002256)

[personal profile] volitaunt 2018-01-19 01:44 am (UTC)(link)
[ God but it feels good to turn John loose. Those hands tugging at the cloth of his shirt, that approving noise. Poe hisses at the grind, then the hand on his half-erect penis through the cloth. He bites John's lower lip. Loosens his grip and runs his tongue over the spot. It's a favorite trick, the rough and the sweet. ]

Take your pants off.

[ They're still there, half-way down John's legs, now nothing but in the way. ] Then undress me, Sheppard.

[ He runs his hands through John's hair, looking the man dead in the eyes. ] Please.
Edited 2018-01-19 02:07 (UTC)
volitaunt: (Default)

[personal profile] volitaunt 2018-01-19 06:11 am (UTC)(link)
[ That's part of the reason Poe wears the ring, that reminder, that bit of hope. There aren't that many people who know what it is. Either they haven't seen it or they don't have the courage or curiosity to ask.

Poe is fine with that. It might be the gift he plans to give the right partner some time down the line, but right now--right now it's a tether, a private link to the mother the New Republic recognized as a true hero. The pilot who saved more lives than she ever would have admitted to, herself.

He doesn't think he's in love with John Sheppard--he doesn't think this is what love feels like. It's a different kind of affection, the kind of love where broken pieces match up well enough to maybe rub the sharp edges away from either side. Still broken. Less painfully so.

He gives John the reward of a moan as his belt whips free of the loops, turns his head to present ear and throat as John works his pants down slowly. He's going to have to dip into those pockets before they move to the bed--he brought a local lubricant, something that makes the skin tingle, and he's not about to waste the chance to use it.

Poe grips John's wrists tightly, not pulling, not pushing, just hanging on, hard enough to leave the possibility of a bruise. With a ghost of amusement: ]
Taking your time.

[ He doesn't sound bothered in the least. ]
Edited 2018-01-19 06:14 (UTC)
volitaunt: (Default)

[personal profile] volitaunt 2018-01-20 02:44 am (UTC)(link)
[ Goosebumps roll up Poe's back along with the sensation. Poe sinks his hands into John's hair and tugs softly, then moves his hands to the tops of John's ears and pulls a little less softly. ]

Nuh-uh.

[ Even if he's getting hard from the attention. Even if it would be easy to let John have what he wants. That isn't what this is about. Yeah, it's going to end up with both of them getting their fill, but right now, it's not about letting John do things his way. ] Left hand pocket. My left.

[ Hey, the guy is down there, he might as well get the lube out. ]
volitaunt: (222)

[personal profile] volitaunt 2018-01-20 05:38 am (UTC)(link)
[ Poe kneels, carefully, bringing himself eye to eye with John. He smooths his thumbs over John's eyelids, forcing the man to close his eyes, so Poe can kiss one eyelid, then the other, then his lips, just the brush of mouth on mouth. ]

Yes, I did.

[ There's so much in John's words. The surprise. It breaks Poe's heart a little bit, for reasons he can't quite name. As though someone wouldn't think through a night with John. As though it's a novel experience.

Poe makes a silent note to do this again, to think it through again, to show somehow that he did so.

He kisses John more firmly, gripping his upper arms to guide John back to his feet. He takes the little tube from John, twisting off the cap, smearing a generous dose of the gel across John's fingertips. ]
I've been thinking about this for, oh, a week or so.

[ Another kiss. He takes John's wrist and pulls the man's hand down to touch Poe's dick. ] Give or take.
volitaunt: (112 - uLLvvgU)

[personal profile] volitaunt 2018-01-20 06:12 am (UTC)(link)
[ Poe gives him a blank look for a second. Then enlightenment dawns. And he cracks the fuck up. He puts his hand on the back of John's head, pulling them together until their foreheads touch, still laughing. ]

Give or take a week, John. Give or take a week.

[ He laughs into another kiss, suddenly enamored of this man in an entirely different way. There's a strange sweetness to John's reluctance to say one way or the other, miscommunication or no. He pulls John close enough that they can feel each others' erections. ] You're going to take it, and you're going to like it.
volitaunt: (058 - UmsihmT)

[personal profile] volitaunt 2018-01-20 07:29 am (UTC)(link)
[ He takes the lube from John. Puts a hand to John's hip, turns him gently so John's back is to him. Poe slicks his fingers with the lube, traces them from the top of John's ass down between his cheeks until he brushes John's hole. He runs his finger gently along the outer edge, then penetrates, slicking his fingers against John's inner walls.

Poe tosses the little lube tube onto John's bed, just in case they need it. He kisses the back of John's neck along the hairline, down to his shoulder blades, tonguing down further until he's at the small of John's back and seems like he might, might just lick his way down John's ass.

Then he's straightening up, arm around John's waist, dick pressed gently against John's cheeks.

It's odd, to feel this kind of ownership of a man he's known for so little time. It's odd to feel that ownership when they're so new to this kind of intimacy. Poe isn't used to it. He's used to easy sex, friendly sex, sex without commitment. This feels like a pact made, somehow, but he doesn't have it in him to be afraid of that just now.

Later, later it will scare him. ]


Bed.
volitaunt: (Default)

[personal profile] volitaunt 2018-01-20 08:15 am (UTC)(link)
[ Poe has no idea, the effect he's having. What he knows is that he likes this version of John, this charming and vulnerable man he's never seen outside of this room. He knows that seeing this vulnerability is fragile and precious and something he'll think about when he's trying to fall asleep.

He's not sure what to feel about that, thinking of someone while he falls asleep.

Poe settles in behind John, rolls his hips to rub his erection across John's crack. Deeper. Guiding his dick into John's hole with one hand, giving the spot another light fingertip touch before he penetrates.

Then he's leaning over John's shoulder, his hand still slick with lube, taking John's cock in hand and gliding his grip from root to tip along with the slow rhythm of his hips. He kisses John's back, one scar, then another.

It seems important, to touch those places. That's where Poe would want to be touched. Each little bit of contact telling him (telling John) that those places don't mean he's broken. Poe feels broken often enough, feels it more and more acutely the longer he's trapped in Riverview. The longer he's away from his purpose, his war. Sometimes he wakes up in the night afraid that he's got nothing left but scars.

He thrusts hard, goes soft again, then hard, then harder. Intervals of gentleness punctuated and slowly replaced by a rough, hard fucking. ]
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[personal profile] volitaunt 2018-01-20 06:01 pm (UTC)(link)
[ He slows again, dick starting to throb with stimulation, a heartbeat pulse that makes it hard not to bust right there.

Not yet.

Poe is not a selfish partner. He's not going to come if his other half hasn't. So he takes his time, each thrust slow and hard, his necklace swinging, brushing John's back whenever Poe leans in for a kiss.

He can feel the shivers, the lurches, the way John is going loose against him and Poe likes it. He loves it, he's grateful for it. John needs this. He needs it as much as Poe needed him to say no when they were here before. Poe tightens his free arm across John's stomach, pushing that much deeper with each plunge.

He rolls his thumb over the head of John's dick, pressing harder than there's any need to, intending to hurt, but only a little. He's gotten good reactions to that kind of treatment so far. With his mouth against John's spine: ]


Do you like that?

[ One hard thrust to accompany the words, pushing hard enough to shift John forward a fraction on the sheets. ]
Edited 2018-01-20 18:08 (UTC)
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[personal profile] volitaunt 2018-01-20 06:50 pm (UTC)(link)
[ It's permission granted. Poe moves his hand from around John's waist up to John's shoulder, so he's pulling on him, dragging him deeper as Poe picks up the pace again, each forward thrust hunting that spot that made John whine.

Poe's attention to John's cock changes, too, a prick of nails at the base sliding up to a gentle squeeze and the circling of Poe's fingertips against the head.

He felt that physical response, that moment that came after John's helpless sound. Poe wants to hear that sound again, feel John's cock move under his palm. He's building, starting to slide into that heat-blind place where the world narrows to nothing but the physical, everything else forgotten for one long breath of suspended pleasure.

Not yet, Dameron.

Not before John. ]

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