"Absolutely not." He replied almost immediately, gaze snapping up to Michael's face again, the conviction in his tone and singing along that imprint between them was just as strong as Michael's frustrations were.
He shook his head, dragging a hand up over his face and through his hair, pulling it back in an attempt to get that tension against his scalp to clear his head a little, "I just don't want to fuck things up for you."
Michael meets Poe's eyes. He knew he meant it. He lowered his eyes again and then rolled over to lay on his back, his arm dropping over his eyes.
"What the fuck does that even mean?" Michael's temper flares a little and something harmless goes flying in the trailer. He clenched his hand a moment. "How is that going to fuck things up for me? They only thing that would fuck me up is if you fucking walk out on me."
And Michael's still not sure he believes Poe won't. There's never been anyone who didn't. Even Max and Isobel had done their share of walking away even if it'd never been permanent.
He glanced up at the clatter of something going flying, and while it wasn't something he'd seen often, he still knew it was something Michael was capable of, and as it wasn't anything coming at them, he could disregard it.
However, that simmering flare and then dissolving bubble of anger had some of Poe's deflating a little as well, settling back a little and while he'd always known that Michael should know some of his history -he knew some of Michael's after all- it had just never been the right time, and maybe it wasn't now, either, but the fact that Michael would know he was telling the truth meant that maybe it was, even if it would be a little bit like poking at a bruise or just yanking the scab off of an old wound.
"There have only been two people I wanted to bond with before you, one of them's dead, killed in action, and the other one doesn't ever talk about what we had. I mean, he's married now, they've got a kid, she's great I love her, I'm her godfather, but it's always just 'we served together' and nothing else." And the worst part about that was that Poe absolutely understood not wanting to talk about it, but he still couldn't help but feel like he was the jinx in both cases.
Michael tilts his head as the other opens up a little bit to him. He watches him carefully. He isn't even sure that he fully understands why he's telling him now but there's maybe a little bit of it there. He reaches out to take one of the other's hands with his good one, lacing his fingers together with his.
"So what? You think something like that's going to happen again?"
"That's exactly what I think, why wouldn't I?" More than that, he didn't want whatever good thing they had to erode just because neither of them wanted to leave first if it wasn't actually good anymore.
Not that he actually thought that would happen, but it might, especially with the number of times Michael had already tried to scare him off, because that seemed like the kind of thing Michael would do instead of leaving himself. Not that Poe thought he was going to do that either, the fear was irrational and on some level he knew that.
The fact that Michael had laced their fingers again was keeping him level, at least, "I don't want this to fall apart because we tried for something we're not supposed to have. Something I'm not supposed to have."
Michael tries hard not to feel angry again but it flares a little bit. He doesn't pull away his hand though. He can't.
"So we can't have it because you think you're cursed or something? So, I'm not supposed to have it either, Poe?"
Michael feels the memories of the unwanted bites he'd gotten, the ones he couldn't choose and the pain of them is more visceral with the fact that the one he wants to choose feels like for some reason he'll never have.
"It's just life, Poe! Shit like that happens to all kinds of people."
It hadn't really occurred to him until Michael said it flat out that his own reluctance about it meant that he was making someone else's decision for them, which was why he just snapped his mouth shut on the instinctive response, the reflexive deflection, and after a brief moment of silence to make sure he wouldn't do so, he said, quietly: "I'm being unfair. I'm sorry. I shouldn't make your decision for you by denying myself something I know we both want."
His tongue darted out over his lower lip, some kind of nervous even though his fingers curled a little more tightly against Michael's own, meeting the other man's gaze, "If, when, we do this, if it starts to go bad later, I need you to promise that you'll tell me and not just let it fester." Because that was really what he was afraid of, not just that he'd lose Michael at all, but that it would be because neither of them could admit that something wasn't working out, "If I'm going to lose you I'd rather it be on good terms."
Michael can't stay angry when Poe reacts like that. He looks down at their hands. It makes him feel better to be able to know that Poe does want it to that Michael isn't just alone in it.
He looks back up at Poe when the other's fingers curl tighter. The change from If.. to when makes his heart skip a beat because a few seconds before he'd felt like it just isn't a possibility.
"I can promise that," Michael says quietly. But he doesn't see it happening. He still thinks that Poe will be the one that ends up wanting to end this and he's dreading it because he knows he's fallen totally in love with the other man. He wants a life, a full life with him and it's terrifying waiting for how it falls apart.
Maybe he wants the bond so bad because he wants that as something more to hold to that this is real and this is permanent in a way he's never had something permanent before aside from Max and Isobel.
That agreement had the last of Poe's lingering tension bleeding out of him completely and he used their joined hands to tug Michael closer, arms curling easily around him and just burying his face against the arch of the other man's neck, heedless of the likely slightly squashed doughnut box between them.
For a long moment he just breathed Michael in, and when he finally spoke his voice was quiet, not quite muffled against his throat, but something like it, "Pretty sure I've mauled you enough this time. Next time though, give us both some time to get used to the idea." He lifted his head then, expression earnest, "Okay?"
Michael easily lets the other pull him close, tilting his head to give him the access more easily and there's a shiver that goes through him. He closes his eyes and curls into Poe a bit.
"Okay," Michael murmurs and without even comment that there's really no such thing as enough mauling him in his opinion.
He didn't have to say it, Poe could almost feel it at the edges of his mind, and he just smiled, pressing another solid kiss to the mark he'd left on Michael's throat, not actually bringing it up himself because there was no point, not right then, not when the reasoning behind waiting was not just to give them both some time to prepare, but also to give the imprint a little bit of time to fade.
Poe knew, or could surmise, that a bond-bite on top of an imprint like that would just be too much for them both, especially partway through a heat.
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He shook his head, dragging a hand up over his face and through his hair, pulling it back in an attempt to get that tension against his scalp to clear his head a little, "I just don't want to fuck things up for you."
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"What the fuck does that even mean?" Michael's temper flares a little and something harmless goes flying in the trailer. He clenched his hand a moment. "How is that going to fuck things up for me? They only thing that would fuck me up is if you fucking walk out on me."
And Michael's still not sure he believes Poe won't. There's never been anyone who didn't. Even Max and Isobel had done their share of walking away even if it'd never been permanent.
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However, that simmering flare and then dissolving bubble of anger had some of Poe's deflating a little as well, settling back a little and while he'd always known that Michael should know some of his history -he knew some of Michael's after all- it had just never been the right time, and maybe it wasn't now, either, but the fact that Michael would know he was telling the truth meant that maybe it was, even if it would be a little bit like poking at a bruise or just yanking the scab off of an old wound.
"There have only been two people I wanted to bond with before you, one of them's dead, killed in action, and the other one doesn't ever talk about what we had. I mean, he's married now, they've got a kid, she's great I love her, I'm her godfather, but it's always just 'we served together' and nothing else." And the worst part about that was that Poe absolutely understood not wanting to talk about it, but he still couldn't help but feel like he was the jinx in both cases.
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"So what? You think something like that's going to happen again?"
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Not that he actually thought that would happen, but it might, especially with the number of times Michael had already tried to scare him off, because that seemed like the kind of thing Michael would do instead of leaving himself. Not that Poe thought he was going to do that either, the fear was irrational and on some level he knew that.
The fact that Michael had laced their fingers again was keeping him level, at least, "I don't want this to fall apart because we tried for something we're not supposed to have. Something I'm not supposed to have."
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"So we can't have it because you think you're cursed or something? So, I'm not supposed to have it either, Poe?"
Michael feels the memories of the unwanted bites he'd gotten, the ones he couldn't choose and the pain of them is more visceral with the fact that the one he wants to choose feels like for some reason he'll never have.
"It's just life, Poe! Shit like that happens to all kinds of people."
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His tongue darted out over his lower lip, some kind of nervous even though his fingers curled a little more tightly against Michael's own, meeting the other man's gaze, "If, when, we do this, if it starts to go bad later, I need you to promise that you'll tell me and not just let it fester." Because that was really what he was afraid of, not just that he'd lose Michael at all, but that it would be because neither of them could admit that something wasn't working out, "If I'm going to lose you I'd rather it be on good terms."
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He looks back up at Poe when the other's fingers curl tighter. The change from If.. to when makes his heart skip a beat because a few seconds before he'd felt like it just isn't a possibility.
"I can promise that," Michael says quietly. But he doesn't see it happening. He still thinks that Poe will be the one that ends up wanting to end this and he's dreading it because he knows he's fallen totally in love with the other man. He wants a life, a full life with him and it's terrifying waiting for how it falls apart.
Maybe he wants the bond so bad because he wants that as something more to hold to that this is real and this is permanent in a way he's never had something permanent before aside from Max and Isobel.
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For a long moment he just breathed Michael in, and when he finally spoke his voice was quiet, not quite muffled against his throat, but something like it, "Pretty sure I've mauled you enough this time. Next time though, give us both some time to get used to the idea." He lifted his head then, expression earnest, "Okay?"
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"Okay," Michael murmurs and without even comment that there's really no such thing as enough mauling him in his opinion.
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Poe knew, or could surmise, that a bond-bite on top of an imprint like that would just be too much for them both, especially partway through a heat.