[ Within long, they're standing in a hotel room - large, a light-red, bordering on pink colour scheme, huge bed near the windows - and they're staring at each other again, as if the time keeps stopping around them. In the back of his mind, Khan knows that it's ticking in more ways than one; timing both his upcoming departure for home and his exit, the one that will leave them parted for good. John asks him, are you done, as if he's ever really begun, and there's something incredibly harsh and beautiful about what's happening. What's been happening, ever since he arrived here by accident all those weeks ago. He doesn't feel done in the slightest. His hands are still tingling, muscles aching for more.
Are you done.
With a half-strangled growl, he crosses the distance between them and grabs onto John's shoulders, pulling him close and fisting one hand in his hair. He stares into his face, taking in his features almost desperately, thinking that there are really only so many uses for regular human beings and isn't it ironic, isn't it grandly typical, that this once... this one time... He swallows, forcing out the next words, few as they are. His cock is rock hard already, straining against the fabric of his trousers. ]
Not by far.
[ He pauses. Slips his hand from John's hair to his neck in a brief but gentle touch before stepping back and nodding at the jumper he's wearing, the jeans. It's a single command, wordless, as he pulls off his own, black shirt and drops it on the floor. He doesn't care about putting it away nicely, it's on the floor and it'll stay there until he's ready to pick it up. Until he's done, as John says. His trousers and socks are next and he works efficiently, fast, to move on from this small, insignificant intermission and take them where they both want to go. ]
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Are you done.
With a half-strangled growl, he crosses the distance between them and grabs onto John's shoulders, pulling him close and fisting one hand in his hair. He stares into his face, taking in his features almost desperately, thinking that there are really only so many uses for regular human beings and isn't it ironic, isn't it grandly typical, that this once... this one time... He swallows, forcing out the next words, few as they are. His cock is rock hard already, straining against the fabric of his trousers. ]
Not by far.
[ He pauses. Slips his hand from John's hair to his neck in a brief but gentle touch before stepping back and nodding at the jumper he's wearing, the jeans. It's a single command, wordless, as he pulls off his own, black shirt and drops it on the floor. He doesn't care about putting it away nicely, it's on the floor and it'll stay there until he's ready to pick it up. Until he's done, as John says. His trousers and socks are next and he works efficiently, fast, to move on from this small, insignificant intermission and take them where they both want to go. ]