you came to me in peace.

[docwithablog]

[ Going out had been his idea, revenge for all the fast food they (read: Khan) had eaten last time. The other man hadn't objected, so here they are -- orders placed, appetizers just delivered to their small corner table (some kind of mousse with chunks of shrimp arranged on slices of cucumber, garnish, looks ridiculous and ridiculously expensive in equal measure) and the waitress with her brown ponytail disappearing into the kitchen, leaving them -- not quite to themselves in the quickly filling restaurant, but close enough. Seafood's a popular choice on a late Friday afternoon, apparently.

John raises an eyebrow at Khan across the table, reaching for his glass of white wine, ignoring the appetizers for now. Frankly, they resemble tiny, green flying saucers with fish bits more than anything. At least they were on the house. ]

You looked like something out of Back to the Future, honestly. Not sufficient sparkle to match Hollywood, but I'm sure you can tweak that.

Comments

[insuperiorstrength]

[ John shuffles closer until they're practically front to front. His breath tickles across Khan's skin where his nose nearly touches his ear. They're armed? he asks. Khan blinks once, then his entire face stills, as if frozen. It's the subject matter. The potential consequences. Swallowing, he finally nods. ]

They must be or people will wonder.

[ His crew - they are durable creatures, all of them. Even whilst resting on loaded dynamite, vulnerable and unawares, they are the brightest and strongest in the galaxy and he's not afraid for them, he refuses to be. Instead, he settles down more fully against the mattress, still on his back. He isn't tired, hasn't been for several days. Rather, he's battle ready, as he will be until this whole thing is over, until his people can rest quietly and safely once again. Perhaps then - and only then - will he finally return to John Watson with more to offer than a temporary respite. ]

[docwithablog]

[ They will wonder or they will launch them as test, John thinks, but doesn't say anything. These are logical worries, he's sure Khan -- who is literally more made for war than John ever was, has already thought the very same things. There is no worry that John could possibly bring to the table that the other man would really have much of a use for. It's there already, no doubt. It's there in the tenseness of his muscles, the stillness of his features as he settles down against the mattress more fully. John draws away from his ear a little, glancing up and letting his eyes follow the dark outline of the other man's face, the silhouette so damn familiar. It's my face, he can almost (almost) hear Sherlock exclaim. He blinks.

It occurs to him, after another minute, that if Khan succeeds -- and Christ, John hopes he will, it could mean he might never see him again. Once he has his family and his freedom, his priorities might (and naturally so) shift, enough that going on even brief 24 hour trips to some backwards world of the past just isn't -- worth it anymore. The risk, the effort.

He breathes out shakily. ]

I'm really hoping no cluster fucks for you, Khan.

[insuperiorstrength]

[ He doesn't react immediately, noting the shakiness of John's exhalation, the time it takes for him to reply. I'm really hoping... Yes, John, what are you hoping for? He thinks about the other man, here in London with no direct pathway to the stars, waiting for a man who's been gone for too long and now, soon, for Khan. It's an odd thought, waiting. It's very primarily human. Khan's people are all warriors, they wait for no one, least of all each other. It's not in their blood.

But people do this. They wait. And they grow exhausted from it. John, too, though he's strong enough to atrophy only in stages, in small but significant acts of isolation. ]

I am coming back for you.

[ It's spoken without even a shimmer of doubt or hesitation. He's decided already, weeks prior. It's something else that makes him add his next words - not uncertainty. Pride. He will force nothing on this man, not now and not later. ]

By then - [ He leans in, runs his lips across John's temple briefly. ] - you can tell me yes or no.

[docwithablog]

[ There's a long moment after Khan has spoken in which John just lies silent, his temple burning from the brush of lips and his breath feeling bated. He turns his face a bit, away and stares out into the darkness, frowning. I am coming back for you, Khan insists -- by then you can tell me yes or no. There is a doubleness to the entire situation, the fact that he gets the choice, returning with Khan to his world of space travel and star wars, getting to stay with him, yes -- and then, the fact that he gets the choice, Khan refraining from forcing any one decision on him.

It's absurd. It's like the kind of dreams you have, coming off a high. ]

All right.

[ He shakes his head once, makes a noise of bemused frustration and then, turns his face back, angles himself so he can rest his chin on Khan's shoulder, slinging one arm across the other man's chest. Neither of them will get to fulfill any promises tonight, but who knows -- maybe it's enough that they want to. For now. ]