docwithablog | does it almost feel like nothing changed at all?

[ He's standing in the doorway to the kitchen while Khan, a couple of hours into his stay, is sitting at the table, fixing -- something on the kettle again, what is it with the bloody thing, it worked fine last he used it, didn't it? Licking his lips a bit nervously, he steps into the room fully and walks over to the kitchen counter, leaning back against it, facing the other man. Hands gripping the edge of the counter. Sock-clad feet shifting a bit restlessly from side to side.

It shouldn't be this damn hard, honestly. It's just a -- suggestion, the man can tell him no and they can go fuck in the bedroom as per usual. But John isn't stupid, he knows what the implications are. You don't go from being fuck buddies to buddies, once you decide a friendly outing is in order, no, if you go out, then -- you go out as something else entirely and he has absolutely no idea how well that is going to play out. For either of them.

Nevertheless -- okay, good, here goes. A deep breath. ]

I was thinking I'd take you to the National Army Museum today.

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[ He stares at John for a bit longer before resuming his work on the kettle. It takes him a bit to answer and not just because he's close to finished with it.

He hasn't stopped to wonder what this is, with John, except to question the fidelity of it all, of visiting him when he ought to focus on the situation they've landed him in back home. Since his last visit, however, he's been seeing the man in dreams as well; not too often but often enough, in ways that clearly imply a subconscious preoccupation. He visits him from the get-go now, doesn't wait until night-time as in the beginning, and he... enjoys the hours John grants him, the time they spent.

Growing attached is no danger at all, so long as you can shoulder the break. He's never been overly good at that, granted, but John's a human and comparatively unimportant - certainly, in time, he'll be able to do what he must and leave him behind, no matter what else transpires. He exhales, slowly. Picks the path that he wants and tries not to think about why he shouldn't. ]

I see. [ He sets the kettle on the table. ] That's fine, then.

[ That's fine, then? John stares at him.

Seriously, that's the best the man can offer. That's fine, then. Both John's eyebrows go up now, expression momentarily -- and very thoroughly unimpressed, too. So, he's graciously allowed to take the other man to the museum and graciously allowed to enjoy his company and he -- what, ought to be grateful for it, too? Well. As a matter of fact, he is actually rather grateful for it, because there honestly hasn't been a day during the past week when he hasn't -- well, thought about... if not Khan, then the stupid order Khan left him with, find something better to do.

Something or someone, right? Okay, great. John's working on it. Obviously.

Features softening, he licks his bottom lip once and then manages a small smile, nodding his head a couple of times, aimlessly. ] Good. That's -- good. [ A pause. Realising that he has no idea whether Khan is even the museum-going type, he adds, voice carefully interested: ]

You've been before?

[ He stands and walks around the table to put the kettle back on the counter. He doesn't have to try it out - it'll work. He thinks over John's question, carefully posed and soft, despite his initial annoyance at Khan's answer (he noticed, of course, how could he not). He's a proud man, is John, and the fact that he keeps trying to re-connect, even when Khan's given him very little reason to do so, is... pleasing. He likes it. He likes it quite a bit.

Consequently, he straightens slightly and turns to face him. There's about a feet of distance between them and in a brief flash of memory, he thinks about the hardness of John's body, the solid weight of him, the heat. When he speaks, his voice is low and even, almost devoid of emotion. ]

I have. The ones who raised me found the study of war imperative. [ His tone gentles almost imperceptibly. ] But not for years. There'll be lots of exhibitions I've never seen. [ The shadows of a smile. ] It's a good suggestion.

[ He brushes past John to stand by the window, looking out. His gaze is calm, mostly contemplative. It's status quo at the moment back home and for once, he's not actually here to counter something terrible or rage-inducing. Interesting, actually, that John should choose this day, in particular, to suggest something so different from their usual raison d'être. This trans-dimensional travel really is a curious thing. ]

[ That's -- interesting, really. John would have frowned at the other man's way of talking about his parents, but then he's telling him, it's a good suggestion and he's smiling instead, something genuine and amused. You shouldn't think he'd be that easy to flatter, but hey -- he's got an ego, it needs constant feeding, right?

Following the man with his eyes as he moves over to the window, he does, however, wonder. Probably not a happy parent-child relationship there, no love lost, obviously -- and naturally, John can relate. He'd probably not go as far as to say the ones who raised me, but they all come with their own baggage, he imagines. There's a reason they end up in the army, after all. There's a reason that's the sort of stimulation they need. Extreme sports, in its own way. Immediate danger, war games and a new family in addition. The lost boys.

John shakes his head and crosses the small distance between them, placing himself behind Khan, in perfect height (well, if he angles his head a little, at least) to rest his chin on the other man's shoulder, one hand pressing against the small of his back. ]

Of course it is.

does it almost feel like nothing changed at all?

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