"Poe," He corrects, instantly, the word Captain bringing a heat to his face that he's lucky his darker skin doesn't immediately make obvious. "Captain is - Captain is for in public, okay? Here it's just Poe."
In public, he might be able to disconnect the word from Owain's panting moans, from his desperate pleas to be fucked, harder-- The heat only worsens, and despite himself the memory sends a rush of blood south and he's a fucking monster, is what he is. So he doesn't meet Owain's eye, and instead goes straight for his uniform. He strips, but he does it without looking at Owain and with taking barely any time at all - clothes off, clean ones on - and then he's pulling on his ceremonial jacket and working the buttons up.
"Yeah. Fine. I'm fine. You?" The question was a little too high pitched and Poe almost winced when he heard himself, deciding to press on rather than wait for an answer. "You set for the debriefing?"
He frowns, predictably, but he's not going to resist an order, not after being given the same one twice. Poe it is, then, if it's really that important. ... More realistically, Owain will just go out of his way to never address his master by name in private, but. For now, he won't argue.
Owain has his hands ready to help Poe get dressed, but he rushes through getting his clothes on by himself so decisively that Owain doesn't really have the guts to offer. He squeezes his jaw, again, still the same way Poe did it to him yesterday, a habit he's taken up to just because it makes him feel like they're connected - and then he's back to lacing his own boots, taking a deep breath and hoping he looks okay.
The way Poe pushes past the question without waiting for an answer doesn't strike him as suspicious. It's what Masters do, after all. Feign an interest that they don't really have. He just shrugs one shoulder, rolling it a little.
"Yeah, of course." There's a pause before he answers, as he shuts down the thoughts he's not going to allow himself to have again. He looks into Poe's eyes and forces himself to just see his master, rather than the man from his dreams.
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In public, he might be able to disconnect the word from Owain's panting moans, from his desperate pleas to be fucked, harder-- The heat only worsens, and despite himself the memory sends a rush of blood south and he's a fucking monster, is what he is. So he doesn't meet Owain's eye, and instead goes straight for his uniform. He strips, but he does it without looking at Owain and with taking barely any time at all - clothes off, clean ones on - and then he's pulling on his ceremonial jacket and working the buttons up.
"Yeah. Fine. I'm fine. You?" The question was a little too high pitched and Poe almost winced when he heard himself, deciding to press on rather than wait for an answer. "You set for the debriefing?"
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Owain has his hands ready to help Poe get dressed, but he rushes through getting his clothes on by himself so decisively that Owain doesn't really have the guts to offer. He squeezes his jaw, again, still the same way Poe did it to him yesterday, a habit he's taken up to just because it makes him feel like they're connected - and then he's back to lacing his own boots, taking a deep breath and hoping he looks okay.
The way Poe pushes past the question without waiting for an answer doesn't strike him as suspicious. It's what Masters do, after all. Feign an interest that they don't really have. He just shrugs one shoulder, rolling it a little.
"Yeah, of course." There's a pause before he answers, as he shuts down the thoughts he's not going to allow himself to have again. He looks into Poe's eyes and forces himself to just see his master, rather than the man from his dreams.
"I'm ready for anything."