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]

[ 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. ]