[Jim is with someone. John's known that since they first met, and has heard plenty about him since. Jim's in love with him, too. Has told him as much. John isn't so chatty on the topic of relationships, but he listens to him while they fly.
Lately, Bones is all Jim talks about. And for good reason.
Which is why this is wrong, and John's wrong for pushing it farther than it should have gone. He knew what he was doing. He always does. It's been a long time since John Sheppard could plead innocent to anything.
He should be the one apologizing.
Jim's breath had tasted so sweet against his lips. Forbidden fruit always does. The sound Jim made when he pulled away, echoing John's want, albeit purely physical, had gone straight to his gut.
At the very start of this, John had pushed Jim away. As if he were the one who needed protecting, knowing full well the damage he's capable of. The things he's done. All the ugliness he keeps under lock and key, hidden stealthily behind a smile.
John's got a lot going on under the surface, more than Jim could, or would, want to know. Now that Jim's gotten a taste of it, John wonders if he won't see the rubber stamp come Monday. He's been remustered for less. Jim is cavalier about a lot of things, but his heart isn't one of them.
John pats Jim on the shoulder, and pulls away. Even if it's the last thing he wants to do. He wants arms around him. A head on his shoulder. Someone to hold. Which is exactly why he needs to let Jim go.]
Now that's what I call a Hail Mary.
[He points up with one finger. The mistletoe is gone.]
no subject
[Jim is with someone. John's known that since they first met, and has heard plenty about him since. Jim's in love with him, too. Has told him as much. John isn't so chatty on the topic of relationships, but he listens to him while they fly.
Lately, Bones is all Jim talks about. And for good reason.
Which is why this is wrong, and John's wrong for pushing it farther than it should have gone. He knew what he was doing. He always does. It's been a long time since John Sheppard could plead innocent to anything.
He should be the one apologizing.
Jim's breath had tasted so sweet against his lips. Forbidden fruit always does. The sound Jim made when he pulled away, echoing John's want, albeit purely physical, had gone straight to his gut.
At the very start of this, John had pushed Jim away. As if he were the one who needed protecting, knowing full well the damage he's capable of. The things he's done. All the ugliness he keeps under lock and key, hidden stealthily behind a smile.
John's got a lot going on under the surface, more than Jim could, or would, want to know. Now that Jim's gotten a taste of it, John wonders if he won't see the rubber stamp come Monday. He's been remustered for less. Jim is cavalier about a lot of things, but his heart isn't one of them.
John pats Jim on the shoulder, and pulls away. Even if it's the last thing he wants to do. He wants arms around him. A head on his shoulder. Someone to hold. Which is exactly why he needs to let Jim go.]
Now that's what I call a Hail Mary.
[He points up with one finger. The mistletoe is gone.]