Work Text:
John Sheppard stalked down the hallways of Atlantis, the few people he ran into moving hastily out of his way. The conversation he had just left replayed itself over and over in his head.
"That can never happen again." Elizabeth's gaze had been steady.
Sitting down, John had said the first thing he could think of. "Look, I'm sorry about—"
"I understand your expertise in military matters and I agree that I should defer to that expertise in such situations."
So she did understand. It was something of a relief.
"Thank you!"
"But you are not the one who decides what is and what is not a military situation. Now, both General O'Neill and Colonel Sumner warned me that you don't respect the proper chain of command."
And just like that, the bottom dropped out of his stomach. It was like Afghanistan all over again. Different words, same damn meaning.
"Well, sometimes I see a situation a little different than ..." He had to make her see.
"No. Listen to me, John. Now, you endangered yourself and the lives of many others."
And here was when his carefully hidden temper came to the surface. And it happened every time. "Because I thought it was the best course of action to take—and, by the way, I saved your ass."
"I know you did. But you have to trust me."
"I do!" He couldn't believe she wouldn't realize that. She was one of a very select number he did trust.
"Do you?"
Before he could reply, Carson and Rodney had come in to update them on the situation and the very distinct possibility that someone had created this virus to kill humans while leaving those with the Ancient gene healthy and happy.
Do you?
The words kept echoing in his head. He could hear the unspoken sentiment behind them, could hear the echo of Colonel Sallisan when he had returned from the mission that earned him the black marks. 'You're a damn fine pilot, Sheppard, but you're reckless. You haven't left me with much choice. To say I'm disappointed in your actions would be an understatement.'
With a low growl, John slammed his fist into a nearby wall, welcoming the pain that immediately took root. At least the pain made it real, gave him something to focus on, something tangible.
He finally got to his quarters, stalking in. He dropped himself onto his bed, trying hard to let the anger—mostly at himself—go. He knew he had been stupid, and he couldn't even say it was for any different reason than the first time—and that one had gotten him a black mark and exile to Antarctica.
It didn't matter that he had saved lives; he had put a higher value on one in particular, and had been willing to risk his own and others to protect that one.
He didn't know how long he stayed there like that, brooding, calling himself all kinds of an idiot. Rodney and Carson knew what they were doing, and while he had found a way to save them, breaking quarantine hadn't been the way to handle the situation and he knew it. He closed his eyes and then the next thing he knew it was morning, his alarm beeping the time.
Rodney had never stopped by.
Not that he had realistically expected the other man. He knew his lover would be busy in the labs, making sense of what had happened after the nano-virus incident. But he had hoped that maybe would have checked on him, contacted him, something. Pushing back a pang of disappointment, he rolled out of bed, grimacing at his bruised and swollen knuckles. Deciding to ignore them for now, he showered and changed instead, retreating to his most remote office to work on the paperwork and reports required after yesterday.
And what a day it had been.
Getting lost in his work, he was surprised when his radio came to life.
"Teyla to Major Sheppard."
Sighing, he hit his radio, eyes not leaving the screen in front of him, cursor blinking on a blank page, his official report and the last piece of work he had to accomplish before he could just push yesterday away as a bad memory. "This is Sheppard."
"You are late for our training session. Did you wish to reschedule it?"
"If you wouldn't mind. I have some things I need to take care of this morning."
"Do you not mean afternoon?"
A quick glance at his watch showed he had been there longer than he thought. With a silent curse, he shook his head. "Yeah. That too."
There was a pause before she continued, her voice quieter. "Are you well?"
He flexed his hand, wincing at the pain. Almost as good as a black mark. "Just peachy. Can we train tomorrow, or did you have other plans?"
"I have several sessions scheduled, but I'm certain I can make arrangements for us to practice."
"Thanks. I appreciate it. Sheppard out."
It didn't take long before his radio chirped again, the voice very familiar and equally surly. "McKay to Sheppard."
The blinking had almost been mesmerizing, so the call made him start a little. "This is Sheppard."
"What the hell are you doing that has you brooding and avoiding Teyla?"
"What? McKay, I'm working, and since you use that argument on me all the time, I'm guessing you know what it means."
He heard Rodney's annoyed huff over the line before he continued, his voice lowered. "Yes, I know exactly what being busy means. I'm always busy because I have morons masquerading as science staffers. But what am I doing right now? I'm talking to you because Teyla called me to find out what was wrong with you. Now, since we've both confirmed that we are busy men, would you get to the point so we can both get back to work?"
John rolled his eyes. "Nothing's wrong, Rodney. Go back to work."
"I'd love to, but until I can get a truthful answer out of you, I can't."
"I know I have a million things to do, and I'm sure you do too. So let it go. I'll talk to you later. Sheppard out." John hit the radio, killing the connection before Rodney could reply.
The radio chirped again a moment later. "McKay to Sheppard and you had better have not just hung up on me."
John considered for the briefest of moments simply turning the radio off. But that would only lead to questions, and if there was a crisis, could create more problems than it solved. "McKay, I'm busy."
"Yes, yes, yes. Aren't we all?"
"So why are you bothering me on the radio? Go back to work, play with the Ancient toys, blow shit up."
"And wow! That's mature," Rodney commented dryly. "Where the hell are you hiding, Sheppard?"
"I'm not hiding, I'm working. I'm cutting the line, McKay. Don't call back unless it's an emergency. Sheppard out." John killed the transmission again.
John shouldn't have been surprised when the door to his office slid open about an hour later, an extremely annoyed and rumpled-looking McKay standing there, his perceptive gaze finding the initial problem immediately. "What the hell is wrong with you and what did you do to your hand?"
"You look like shit. Go get a shower and get some sleep." He knew from experience that if he could derail Rodney early and get him going on something else, the man would forget what had originally brought him here.
"And thanks so much for the compliment," Rodney said sarcastically, stepping inside to let the door close behind him. "I remember now why I find you attractive. It's all those compliments you throw about. But that's not what I’m here to talk about. With Teyla nagging me and you refusing to answer a stupid question when you are clearly not 'fine' there's no way I'm getting any work done. So, what's wrong this time?"
"Love you, too, McKay." John rolled his eyes. "There's nothing wrong. You're the one who says I never actually do any real work—surprise, I actually do have to spend some time in an office taking care of shit."
"So what has Teyla so hot and bothered?"
"I missed our scheduled practice. I don't know why she called you about it." John casually slipped his injured hand under the desk—out of sight, out of mind, he hoped.
"And don't think I didn't see you hiding your hand. We'll get to that in a minute," Rodney said, his blue eyes piercing. "If something has Teyla worried, then I'm supposed to be worried. Isn't that how it works?"
"There's nothing to worry about. Everything's just hunky dory. How's the stuff in the lab?"
"And wow. You couldn't come up with a better answer, could you?"
John dropped the pretense—it wasn't working anyway. "Look, I don't want to talk about it, all right? You checked up on me, I'm not ready to slit my wrists or anything yet. Consider your duty done."
Rodney's face darkened, his lips thinning as he turned on his heel. "Fine. Have it your way. Have a good day, Major," he said, already heading out the door.
Fuck. Rodney only used his title when he was really pissed. He started to raise his hand, to call him back, forgetting it was under the table and injured. He slammed it against the metal, sucking in his breath at the pain and he instinctively tried to curl around the hand. "Ow. Owowowowow. Shit, fuck, damn it all to hell!"
Hands on his shoulders held him up and John vaguely heard someone talking. It took him a moment before he could focus on the words. "…yes, that's the place. I don't know what the hell he did….Yes, I'll be here."
"Ow." John blinked, Rodney's face coming into focus inches from his own.
"No kidding. Carson is coming."
John shook off the haze. "No. It'll be all right in a sec. Just caught me by surprise."
"Carson is coming and you will let him look at your hand." Rodney's voice was demanding and unrelenting.
"No drugs. Needs to hurt." He swallowed, blinking a few more times. The pain was fading back down to a dull throb, although admittedly it was worse than before. "I don't think it's broken or anything."
"Needs to hurt? What the hell is wrong with…nonono, nevermind. We'll let Carson figure out your hand before we even get into the depths of your mind," Rodney said shaking his head as he squatted down in front of him, one hand on John's knee, the other on his uninjured arm. "What happened?"
"It had an unfortunate encounter with a wall."
"What did the wall do to you?"
John sighed, leaning forward a little, into Rodney's warmth. "It was convenient."
Rodney shifted, lips pressing to John's forehead. "Carson will be here any minute."
"He's going to be pissed at me for not going to see him as soon as I did it."
"That would be a yes," Rodney said. "Why did you decide to punch a wall?"
"I was angry." John leaned in a bit more, a bit surprised at how good it felt to have someone actually care enough to force him to talk about this. Last time, he had been left to rot alone, shunned by almost everyone in the middle of the most remote part of Earth.
McKay shifted again, never letting go of John's arm, kneeling beside the chair instead of squatting. "Why were you angry?"
John closed his eyes, not wanting to see Rodney's reactions. "I knew better this time, knew what I was doing. I disobeyed a direct order and put people at risk because of it. Only this time, instead of a black mark and exile, I got a disappointed lecture. What the hell is wrong with me?"
"There's nothing wrong with you that a little of Carson's voodoo won't fix," Rodney said, his voice guarded. "But I have no idea what you're talking about so you're going to have to give me a little more information."
Sighing, John wasn't sure whether he wished Rodney would drop it and go away, or keep pushing, forcing him to talk. "I broke quarantine against Elizabeth's orders. I should have trusted you and Carson to get the job done, instead of deciding I needed to be there myself. And I put the rest of the population at risk in the process. I knew it at the time, and I did it anyway." He gave a short, unamused laugh. "It seems I'm living up to my reputation."
"So, you thought it should be done differently. Peterson's the one who put the city at risk, not you."
"That's not the point. I went against orders again." He cracked an eye to look at Rodney. "You do know why I was stationed in Antarctica, don't you?"
"You did something someone didn't like, that much was obvious," Rodney said with a shrug. "You don't end up at the back-end of the planet because of your good behavior. I understand that far too well."
John snorted, his voice going flat, emotionless. It was the only way he could talk about it, even still. "It was a bit more than just something they didn't like. Friends of mine, men in my unit—good pilots—got shot down in a combat zone. We were told it was too risky to attempt rescue. I disagreed, took a chopper, and made the attempt anyway. I managed to lose my own helicopter and barely made it out alive. That I held on to my commission at all was a minor miracle."
"And your friends?"
"I was the only one who returned."
There was a softly exhaled "damn" before Rodney's hand tightened on his arm. The chirp of Rodney's radio, though, ended any other discussion.
"Yeah, Carson? Yes, just down the hall. No, I know. You can ask him yourself. McKay out."
John took another second to just enjoy being comforted, then sat up straight as the doctor came into the room. "I'm going to have to find a new remote office if everyone keeps finding this one."
Rodney moved back, allowing Carson to bustle in, standing against the wall with his arms folded over his chest, his eyes wide, looking even more vulnerable with that simple gesture.
"So, what have we here, Major?"
John shrugged, holding out his hand when Carson gestured for it. "A little misunderstanding with a wall."
Beckett tutted as he turned the hand carefully, taking in the bruising and the scrapes. "We'll have to make sure the wall is still standin'. When did this happen?"
"Yesterday afternoon."
Carson's eyebrows drew together. "You were fine in Elizabeth's office."
He shrugged again. "It was right after I left."
"And I'm only hearin' about this now, why?"
"There were more important things for you to take care of than a few self-inflicted bruises. You and Rodney were making sure that virus really was shut down. I hit a wall. It'll heal."
"And right now you're comin' with me to the infirmary so we can get this properly looked at. Can you make it there on your own?"
"Carson I don't need to—"
"Don't make me pull rank on you, Major. Now get moving," Carson said, helping John to his feet. "Rodney, thank you for calling me. I'm glad at least one of you has the brains to know injuries need medical attention."
Carson had turned, so he didn't see the stricken look that passed over John's face at the invocation of rank, gone quickly under the mask of passive indifference he usually wore. "All right. After you, Doc."
"Is he going to be okay, Carson?" Rodney asked, the worry obvious in his voice and his expression.
"Aye. But I need to get his hand under the scanner just in case he did some damage—which is a possibility."
"I'm right here you know. And my hand is fine. Just a bit bruised and swollen. I've done worse to it." Like after Afghanistan. He had actually gone through the wall that time.
"I'm sure you have, but you will be checked out. Rodney, I'll let you know when you can come round to get him."
"Okay."
John caught Rodney's eye, trying to let him know it was okay, that he was okay. "I'll be fine. I'll see you in a while."
Rodney nodded, eyes wide, his body a little curled into himself.
John gave a little wave as they hit the hallway where they separated, Rodney to head back towards the labs, and John to follow Carson to the infirmary. "Rodney—don't worry. And go take a shower. And take a nap. You look like you could use both."
"I have work to do," he finally said before turning on his heel and striding down the hallway and around the corner.
Shaking his head, John turned to follow Carson. "My hand really is fine."
"No, it's not and I'm surprised at you, not reporting this earlier," Carson said, shooting him an annoyed look. "You know better."
"Sometimes you need a little pain."
"I have to disagree strongly with that. Pain is never an answer to anything." He paused, glancing over at Sheppard, watching him as he led him into a transporter and then down the hall once they arrived on the other end. They moved directly to one of the scanning units, Carson working efficiently, getting John positioned and set up with a minimum of pain. "Are you okay, John?" he finally asked quietly, his eyes gentle.
John chose not to answer, instead allowing himself to be positioned as needed. He held back a wince as he was told to uncurl his fingers, but otherwise just quietly watched and obeyed.
"Hold still for a minute, lad, while the machine does its job," Carson finally said with a sigh as he turned to the monitor.
John locked his muscles, keeping himself completely still until Carson nodded that the scan was done. "That it?"
"Aye and you're lucky, there's nothing broken. If you'd had a little more force you would have had a right mess." Carson gestured for John to move to the nearest bed as he got his supplies together. "And what in god's green earth has you punching walls?"
"I knew how hard to hit it." He hopped up on the bed.
"That was'na an answer."
"I know." John shook his head. "It's not really important. Sorry to be so much trouble."
"And it's no trouble. I'd just rather you keep yourself unbruised and healthy—especially after yesterday." Carson began to gently clean the grazed knuckles on the back of John's hand before applying some antibiotic ointment and gauze.
He closed his eyes briefly, just wanting to get out of here and find someplace quiet. "Yeah, I'll work on that. Am I free to go?"
"John," Carson's voice was quiet as he finished bandaging John's hand with a few pieces of medical tape. "What's going on? Did something happen? I know things have been a little hectic after the lockdown. Or is it something between you and Rodney? I thought things had been going well on that front—especially after last week."
"As far as I know we're good." John let his head hang a bit, eyes closing again. "No, this doesn't have anything to do with Rodney. This is just me being a fuck-up."
"And how is that possible? You saved everyone in the city."
John reflexively clenched his hands into fists, quickly releasing them when the injured one protested. "Can we drop this?"
"If you want, of course we can. I think you should talk about it instead of beating yourself up over it, but I'm just a medical doctor. What do I know about anything?" Carson rose, moving over to the drug supply cabinet and returning with several blister packs. "This is a low-dose painkiller. Please use it. It'll help and no, it won't make you groggy."
John let his head fall forward again, knowing the doctor was right, but not knowing how he could talk about things he wasn't even sure about himself. Talking wasn't his strong point, and he usually managed to avoid conversations like this. He wasn't sure why he kept hoping someone wouldn't let him get away with it this time. He held out his good hand, pocketing the painkillers. "Thanks."
"Do you want me to call Rodney?"
John shook his head. "He's busy I know. He already took time out to come find me before. He probably wouldn't welcome another interruption. I'll just head back to my office."
"You might be surprised, but do what you think is best," Carson said. "And take it easy on your hand. You're going to be quite bruised for a while. Also, try not to get the bandages wet and I want you to stop back in the morning so I can take a look at it again."
As he hopped down, John snorted, muttering more to himself than to Carson. "Yeah, and we've already established that what I think is best is usually the wrong decision." He raised his voice acknowledging the instructions. "I'll be careful. Thanks again."
"If it weren't for you, we would have lost a third of the city. Keep that in mind," Carson said softly as John moved away.
"If it weren't for me, that third of the city wouldn't have been in danger in the first place."
"Major." Carson's voice was sharp. "Don't go looking for guilt or blame. Peterson was putting the entire city at risk. You acted as you saw fit—no matter what Elizabeth said." At John's surprise he continued. "Yes, I know all about your little face-off."
"She was right. I was given an order, Carson, and I disobeyed. I put people in danger because of it, and in the end, I might have come up with a plan, but what if I hadn't? And I could have done it from quarantine consulting over the radio."
"This is something you need to come to terms with, John. Nothing I tell you will make much difference, I know. But could you live with yourself if you had done nothing and Peterson infected even more people?"
He leaned against the wall, giving the doctor's words some thought. "I...no, probably not. But this isn't the first time I've done this. Elizabeth was fucking warned about me, Carson. And then I go pull something like this. That pretty much makes every commander who ever called me a fuck-up right."
Carson's face hardened. "So, just because they knew you had the tendency to follow a lead makes things horribly wrong, makes you fucked up?"
"I have a bad habit of disobeying direct orders. I'm a soldier, that's generally considered bad form. And even knowing that, I still do it. Colonel Sallisan was probably right. I shouldn't be in command of a damn paper bag, much less people."
"You're doing a damn fine job, Major. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise." Carson's jaw was set, showing his determination and trust in him.
"I wasn't supposed to be in charge. Pretty much ever. I was sent to Antarctica to finish out my commission so they could quietly discharge me."
"And things changed. Maybe you need to stop doubting yourself and your abilities and do the job. Have you ever considered that?"
"I thought I had. When Sumner…died and I had to take command, I thought I could do it. Elizabeth is one of the few commanders I've ever respected. But what if next time I pull shit like yesterday, things don't work out? What if I'm the only one coming back alive, if at all?"
"That's a chance we all take, John. This isn't exactly a safe place to live in. Do you think Rodney's in a better state right now? He ordered his team to explore those labs and he lost several members. Colleagues and friends. And yet, he's alive. How do you think he feels?"
John slumped. He hadn't actually thought of that. "Shit. And I don't think he went to bed last night, at least not for long. Time for me to stop feeling sorry for myself and start taking care of things, eh?"
"You need to take care of yourself before you can do anything else."
He pushed off from the wall, pacing a little. "So what are you suggesting?"
"I don't know, John," Carson said shaking his head, his eyes narrowing, taking in every sharp movement of John's gait. "But before you can help Rodney, I think you need to deal with whatever's going on in your head." He paused again, looking John over carefully. "Have you spoken with Rodney at all about what happened?"
He shook his head. "Not really. We talked some just before you got there, but otherwise I hadn't seen him."
"I'd hoped he would have gone to talk to you," Carson said quietly.
"It doesn't look like he left the lab for long last night, if at all." John sighed, squaring his shoulders. "All right, can you call him in? If I go down there, he'll just find a way to avoid me. If he thinks he's coming to force me to take care of myself, he's more likely to drop what he's doing."
Carson nodded, but clicked his radio on. "Beckett to McKay…Yes, he's—Yes, Rodney…Alright. Beckett out." Rolling his eyes, he turned to John. "He's on his way."
John managed a grin, holding up his bandaged hand. "Good thing this looks worse than it actually is. I can distract him long enough to get somewhere private where we can yell at each other for a while. He always feels better after he bitches."
"Not this time, I donna think." Carson's face was shuttered, his eyes down. "He was convinced he was dying, John. We all were. He'd said his goodbyes."
"Fuck." John ran his good hand across his face. "Alright. I'll do what I can."
"He's been okay today as far as I can see, but I’m worried. I doubt he's just forgotten about it." Carson glanced up. "And you, lad, you need to work out your own issues. Kate might be able to help."
John shook his head. "I know she means well, but I don't do psyche evals well. It's too easy to make them say what you want them to." He offered a shy smile. "Actually just being able to vent a little helped. Thanks."
"You're welcome, but I doubt that'll be good enough." Whatever else Carson was going to say was cut off as the hurricane that was Rodney McKay blew into the infirmary.
"How is he? Is he going to live? Did you have to amputate? How bad is it?"
John held up his bandaged hand so Rodney could see. "It's fine. Some swelling and I have to keep it dry and come back tomorrow to have the dressing changed. Otherwise, Carson has let me off with a lecture about picking on innocent walls, and has ordered me to take it easy."
McKay huffed and rolled his eyes. "As if you'd actually listen," he said before turning to Carson. "So why did you order me to show up if he's fine? I was in the middle of—."
"Rodney." John waved his hand in front of the scientist's face to get his attention. "I've also been ordered to talk, and you're the only one I'm willing to talk to. And I'm hungry. I skipped breakfast."
"Breakfast was hours ago!" Rodney actually looked shocked. "And that means you skipped lunch, too, since it's almost time for dinner. No wonder you're just skin and bones. You skip too many meals. How do you expect to fight the Wraith and actually get through the day if you don't eat regularly?"
John blinked. "It's almost time for dinner?"
Rodney turned back to Carson. "Are you sure he didn't hit his head? You did check him over, right?"
Carson was smiling at both of them. "Aye, he's a bit daft, but no head trauma that I could find. Take him off and make sure he eats a good meal and does'na use that hand. Bring him back by in the morning, and he should be fine."
John looked back and forth at both of them. "It's really almost dinner? What happened to lunch?"
"You're sure about the head thing?"
"Maybe it's malnutrition. I think you need to feed me."
Rodney closed his eyes for a moment, his entire body sighing. "Come on already," Rodney said, opening his eyes and turning, already heading to the door.
John winked at Carson and followed his lover out the door. They walked in silence until they got to the mess, where Rodney disappeared for a minute into the kitchen, presumably to get them something to eat since it was between scheduled meal times. John propped a foot up on a nearby chair to wait.
McKay returned a few minutes later, a single tray in his hands with what looked like some leftovers from lunch—a sandwich, Jell-O, and water—for one.
"That doesn't look like enough for both of us." John eyed the tray warily.
"Some of us know when to eat during the day," Rodney commented, leaning back in his chair.
"Oh." He picked at the sandwich. "Are you okay?"
"Fine," he said, waving his hand absently. "Been working through that database. There's some interesting stuff in there."
"That's not what I meant. Carson told me a little of what happened in the lab yesterday, besides the obvious I mean."
"Of course I'm fine. I'm here, aren't I?"
John shifted so one leg was in Rodney's lap under the table. "It was close though."
McKay shifted, but didn't pull away, but he did glance around the empty mess hall. "It's always close," he finally said, shrugging. "But aren't we supposed to be talking about you and your hand?"
"I didn't do any permanent damage. I knew enough to keep the force shy of bone-breaking. I'm more concerned with how you're dealing with things. I didn't pay much attention yesterday, and I should have. You almost died."
"But I didn't."
"Thank God."
"See. Everything's fine." Rodney glanced away. "Look, I have to get back to the labs. Can you…" He gestured to the food and the tray on the table.
"You need to take a break, you know. Come by and get me for dinner. I'll be in the office near the control room this time. And then we can watch a movie or something tonight."
"I also have work to do." Rodney's jaw was tight and he couldn't look John in the eyes.
"And it will still be there tomorrow. And you're headed back there now. You look like it's only the caffeine in your system keeping you conscious at this point. Take a few more hours and then stop for the night. You can get back to it early tomorrow and a hell of a lot more alert than you are now."
"I'll see how things go," Rodney said noncommittally, managing to get out from under John's feet with a minimum of fuss. "And take care of that hand," he said as he walked away.
Shaking his head, John ate the sandwich in two bites. He knew he wouldn't see Rodney again unless he went and got him. He'd give him the few hours, then go collect his geek for a little deserved down time.
***
After working on the new database they'd discovered in the viral lab for several more hours, Rodney finally retreated to his seldom-used office, the small room tucked away behind the main science lab. Sometime during the afternoon Radek had wandered down to the mess hall, bringing him back a sandwich and some coffee, leaving it on the corner of his workstation as Rodney continued to plow through the reports and the information.
But now, he needed quiet.
Shutting the door behind him, he settled in at his desk, getting the laptop booted up. And even though he knew they weren't going back to Earth anytime soon—if at all—there were some things that just had to be completed, finalized. He knew he had time, knew he didn't have to do this now, but there was a part of him that felt like he needed to.
They deserved some kind of closure, some kind of acknowledgement. They were people, fellow scientists. The longer he put it off the more likely there would be another reason to delay it, and another, and another until time swallowed their memory whole.
Wagner.
Johnson.
Dumais.
Hays.
Four scientists. Dead.
Four letters he had to write.
But, what exactly did he say? I'm sorry your daughter, son, brother, sister, father, mother died because they were infested with an alien nano-virus that terrorized them before killing them with a brain aneurysm.
Somehow the usual, "I'm sorry for your loss" didn't quite sound right—not after that.
Rodney sighed as the screen cleared and he pulled up a blank word processing document, the blinking cursor staring him in the face. Tugging his radio from his ear, he turned it off, dropping it onto the desk next to the laptop. Forcing his hands to rest on the keyboard, Rodney closed his eyes for a moment before he started typing.
In fits and starts—and with frequent edits to remove classified information—he wrote the first letter.
The second was faster, but the third… The third was hard.
Shoving the laptop away, he lowered his face into his hands, elbows resting on the desk. Closing his eyes, he tried to blot out the memories but they were burned into his mind—just like Gall.
He barely registered the sound of the door opening and closing, then strong arms were wrapped around his back. "I wondered where you'd managed to disappear to."
"John?" the word slipped out, more of a sob than he wanted.
"I'm here." The arms tightened around him, pulling him close to a warm, comforting body.
"I hate this," Rodney finally said after a few minutes, leaning his head back against John's chest, his eyes closed.
"I know."
Rodney stayed there, getting himself back under control, before focusing on the other man. "Why are you here? Shouldn't you be resting? "
"This was more important." John pressed a kiss into the side of his head.
"You didn't answer my question."
"Yes, I did. Grieving and dealing with losing men is easier when you know you can lean on someone when it gets too bad. I've done it, I know. I can't make it stop hurting, but I can be here to support you. It's more important than resting because I was stupid and tried to put my hand through a wall."
Rodney didn't argue with him. He didn't have the energy. "How did you find me?"
"Bribed Radek to tell me where you'd gone when I couldn't find you anywhere else."
"It's not like I move my office every other day."
John huffed a laugh into his ear. "I don't move them. I use the same five all the time. You just have to figure out which one I'm using on any given day."
"Same difference."
John was quiet, thoughtful for a moment. "You're probably right. You always seem to find me easily enough though."
"Genius," Rodney commented, weakly raising his hand.
John caught the hand, pressing a kiss into his palm. "I'm glad."
"Didn't help them any." His voice was bitter, raw.
"No, but it did save others, if that helps."
"I didn't do a thing," Rodney said, shaking his head, some of the fear and the helplessness coming back.
"It was your idea that ultimately saved everyone."
"No. You did that."
"I blew up a generator. It was your idea in the first place."
"I should have thought of something else."
"It worked." John pulled, until they were both on the floor, instead of him hovering next to the chair, with Rodney pulled back against his chest, arms tight around him. "You did a good job."
"What…what are you doing?" They were in his office. In his office where he was writing condolence letters.
"It's late, so there's no one out there, and I locked the door when I came in." John now had access to press kisses into his neck. "You needed a break."
"Sheppard, come on," Rodney protested, trying to move away, but John held him fast.
"I won't try to make you stop for the night and come to bed—even though I think you should do both—but I will at least make you take a break."
"I can't do this here. Not now."
"We're not doing anything more than this. Talking—with the added bonus of touching."
"Sheppard, please. Not here. I can't do this here with sympathy letters open on my desktop. It's like they're staring down at us…" His voice trailed off and he closed his eyes.
John's arms tightened around him. "I know. I've written my own, and I know what it's like. I know nothing I say will make it hurt less. But you can't shut it inside. It doesn't help, and in the long run it just makes it hurt more."
Rodney sighed, his voice quiet, the words whispered. "Either let me finish or take me home, but I can't…I won't do this here. Not tonight."
"Then come home. I'll stay with you tonight."
Nodding his head, Rodney let John manhandle him, pausing only long enough to save the files he had open before shutting down the laptop.
When they got to Rodney's room, the door swished shut behind them. John reached out to cup his face, leaning in for a chaste kiss. "Tell me what you need tonight. How can I help the best?"
Rodney shook his head, words escaping him as he leaned into John, wrapping his arms around the other man.
John returned the embrace, pulling him close and just holding him.
McKay just held on, breathing in John's scent, his face buried in his shoulder. He didn't know how long they stayed like that until John shifted, leaning down to press a kiss against his temple.
"Come on." It was almost a whisper, and he found himself being pulled to the bed and pushed down onto his stomach. John began to work at all the knots in his back and neck, slowly forcing his body to relax.
Rodney took a deep breath, trying not to tense, trying to let John help him, but after he felt John wince for the third time he began to move, to turn over. "Your hand—"
"It's fine. I'm using the other one as much as I can. You're one big knot, you know that? You have to be hurting."
"I’m always like this," Rodney said, shrugging. "You don't have to do this."
John leaned in far enough to kiss the side of Rodney's mouth. "I know. I want to, though."
"But—"
He was pushed back down gently. "Let me. Just close your eyes and concentrate on my hands."
"You're not going to let me say 'no' are you?"
"Do you really want to or are you just protesting because you think you should?"
"You're injured. I should be—"
"That means it's the second. I promise, if it starts to hurt, I'll stop. Now lie down and let me work some of these out."
Rodney sighed, but complied, folding his arms and laying his head down on them, managing to hide his face between his arms and the bed. John worked carefully, slowly, working one knot after another out of his back, his muscles relaxing one by one.
But with every release, there was less of him to hold onto, less of him to hold it all back.
"It wasn't your fault."
Rodney shook his head, refusing to answer, knowing his words would give him away, would tell John about the dampness on his face, about his own fears.
He could feel John's weight shift, the words repeated quietly next to his ear. "It wasn't your fault."
"They're dead. How can it not be my fault?"
"Because you did the best you could to prevent it. Everyone who stepped through the gate knew, at some point, that they could die. They all chose to come anyway. All of us, including you, are only human. You're not a seer. You can't see into the future and know what rooms, what planets will be dangerous and which won't. Everyone knows it's a risk, and we take steps to minimize it as much as possible, but you can't save everyone."
Rodney shook his head, burying his face deeper into his arms and the bed.
John shifted again, no longer kneading his muscles, but now draped over him like a heavy, warm blanket. "Losing men is the single hardest part of being in command in a combat zone. It might be cold, but at some point you learn to distance yourself from it, take one step back. It's not that you care less, or that it doesn't hurt every time. It's what you have to do to keep going for all the people still alive who need you whole and sane to protect them."
"It was almost me, too."
"I know, and that makes it worse, in your own head. But that's not your fault either. It's okay to be happy you're alive, that you weren't the one to die. There's no shame in it."
Rodney shuddered, the fear finally flowing out of him.
John continued to just hold him for a while, until he shifted to let the other man know the weight was getting uncomfortable. "Sit up for a sec," John said quietly. "Let's get you comfortable, and then you can get some sleep tonight, okay?"
Dragging a hand across his face and his eyes, Rodney nodded, turning onto his side and sitting up, John's hands never leaving his body.
John caressed Rodney as he undressed him, but oddly the touches weren't arousing or erotic—they were comforting, solid. He was stripped down to his boxers, then pushed back onto the bed while John swiftly got himself into the same state. As he was curling his body around Rodney's the lights dimmed, painting the room in shades of dark blue.
With John's leg between his and his arms wrapped around him, Rodney finally relaxed, his eyes closing as he let Sheppard hold him.
***
Habit woke John up long before the sun, and he had to admit there was something really nice about waking up wrapped around Rodney. Instead of his usual habit of slipping out of bed to get in a jog before Rodney woke up, however, he pushed himself up on his elbow so he could watch his lover sleep.
The stress, fear, pain, guilt…all the weight Rodney carried on his shoulders awake melted away when he was asleep, his face almost gentle. John just let himself stare for a while, until he caught a slit of blue beneath the eyelashes. “Hey.”
Rodney shifted, confusion crossing over his face, as his eyes opened slowly. "Wha…?"
"It's morning. Early. If you aren't ready to be up, you have time to go back to sleep."
Instead of answering, Rodney shifted again, turning so they were chest to chest and inches apart, his arm sliding under John's to rest in the middle of his back.
John wiggled to get them both settled comfortably, bodies pressed together. He had left their boxers on when he got them ready for bed, and the slide of fabric was both arousing and irritating. "How did you sleep?"
"Better than I thought I would," McKay answered after a moment.
"Good. You look a lot more rested. A hot shower, and you'll be good as new."
"It'll take more than that, I think," he said, his body tensing a little.
John ran a hand up Rodney's side, coming to rest on his face. "It's all right. If nothing else, hopefully it won't seem so overwhelming today, all right? And if it is, come find me."
"Come find you? What are you going to do? Wave your magic wand and make it all just go away?"
"No. Nothing can make it go away, and I won't try. But I can help you distract yourself until you feel like you can handle it again. Whatever you need—sex, someone to talk to, someone to spar with, hell, someone to yell at. Come find me."
Rodney rolled his eyes. "Are you permanently horny?"
"That's just one option, you'll note, but when it comes to you, yes actually." John grinned, and kissed the tip of his nose.
"Yes, one option, but the first one."
"Sex in general is a good form of release, of escape, and I don't know about you, but when I start to lose control, it helps ground me sometimes. Sex with you is one better—it's flying and Ferris wheels and fast cars all rolled into one rather appealing package."
Rodney's mouth dropped open as his eyes widened. He sputtered a few times before getting the words out. "You've certainly led a very different sex life than I have."
"I like sex, and I always have." And for the first time in his life, he suddenly wondered if maybe that wasn't a good thing. Maybe Rodney didn't want someone who... "That's... I mean, that doesn't bother you, does it? That I, you know, with other people before you?"
McKay gave him an 'are you crazy' expression in reply, his eyes demanding an argument. "Does it bother you that I was?"
"No, but I know you didn't have as much, you know, experience as I did." He felt himself flush. "You just sounded so surprised that I've used sex as an escape before."
Rodney shrugged. "People use different things. Sex. Drugs. Alcohol. Some are worse than others."
John squeezed Rodney lightly. "Yeah, and I always was careful, I promise. Anyway, it's a good way to ground yourself when your brain won't shut down. The sensations are strong enough that you can let them be all you focus on, and it's pleasurable, since who wants physical pain when you're hurting inside? And afterwards, you're relaxed and just tired enough that you can't immediately slip back into the feedback loop you were trapped in before, so it's easier to deal with one thing at a time. So yeah..."
"That's what work's for."
"I like sex better than work."
"Hence my 'sex on legs' comment a while back. I stand by it."
John felt himself flush again. "Not quite. You're telling me you would rather work than have sex?"
Rodney glanced away. "I never had the option."
John gently turned his face back. "You do now."
McKay just held his gaze, his eyes uncertain.
John trailed a finger along Rodney's cheek. "Whatever you need. It's yours."
"I want to forget for a little while."
"I can do that." He rolled Rodney onto his back, settling himself between his legs, not letting them out of contact with each other.
Rodney took a long shuddering breath and closed his eyes, his hands sliding down to rest in the small of John's back, fingers swirling against the skin and slipping beneath the waistband of his boxers.
John began slow, light caresses, starting a slow build. As he touched, he talked, figuring that would give Rodney one more thing to focus on besides his own thoughts. "You know, you don't talk nearly as much in bed as I would have thought. I had you pegged as the non-stop, running commentary during sex kinda guy."
"It annoyed Ivan," Rodney said distractedly.
John had to fight the urge not to stop, to swallow the anger that threatened to bubble up at all the imagined reasons for the comment. "Ivan?"
Rodney's eyes opened, the troubled blue staring at him. "I shouldn't have said that. I’m sorry."
"I want to know. Tell me. I like to hear you talk."
"Isn't that like the kiss of death or something, talking about an ex when you're with someone else?"
"Nope, not if you're asked. It's only considered rude if you feel the need to fling how much better they were than your current partner in their face every five minutes." John brushed a nipple with his lips, then sat back up. "Besides, when I go kill every one of the bastards who ever hurt you or made you think there was something wrong with you, it'll be nice to be able to tell them why."
"Wha….what?" Rodney asked, looking a little shell-shocked.
"I'm going to hunt down every bastard who ever told you that you were inadequate, or made you change to please them. I'm going to take great pleasure in hurting the people who hurt you. I'm going to terrorize the men who made you think sex was nothing more than being taken against a wall, with no care about anything but their own pleasure." John continued to touch as he talked.
Rodney shivered under John's comforting caresses, but his mouth was open, his hands still against John's back.
"So, tell me about Ivan, and what he said to make you think talking in bed was bad."
"You…there was really never a bed involved," Rodney finally said after a long sigh.
John ached for the hurt in Rodney's voice. "Why didn't he like you to talk then?"
"We always did it…it was always somewhere close to where we were working—a closet, room…something. He never wanted to wait. It was either right at that moment or not at all. There were always people around. They didn't take well to…well, you know."
"So instead of finding a better place, or using something like a gag for temporary silence, he trained you to not talk?" John decided he would strangle Ivan, because he would love to hear Rodney, unconcerned and lost in pleasure, babbling at him.
"It wasn't like I had much choice. There weren't a whole lot of options. He was willing."
John worked up high enough that he could catch Rodney's mouth in a searing kiss, before settling back down to caress him once again. "I'm sorry. I wish I had met you years ago, before Ivan and all the other pricks you had to deal with."
"It was fine," Rodney said shrugging in apology. "As long as I was quiet we'd be able to have sex."
"Rodney, you're an amazing lover, you should never have to settle. And for the record, I don't care how loud, or touchy, or anything you want to be. If it's not appropriate for the moment, I'll use a gag or something, but when we're alone, like this, make as much noise as you want."
McKay was quiet for a moment, his eyes skittering around before he finally drew them up to meet John's. "I still think that this is a dream sometimes. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. And anything remotely good has always had horrible, horrible consequences." His hand slid up to touch John's face.
John leaned into the hand a little, turning his face enough to kiss it. "Not a dream. You've just had a string of really bad lovers." He grinned. "I consider it my duty and privilege to introduce you to what sex is supposed to be like."
This time, Rodney blushed, the red trailing down his chest. "We were starting one of those lessons, weren't we?"
"Sorry. I got a little distracted, since I've always wondered why you're so verbal everywhere else, but not in bed."
"Honestly, I never really was, even before Ivan came along," Rodney shrugged. "He just gave me an incentive to be quieter."
"So all my fantasies about turning you on so hard you start babbling are probably never gonna happen huh?" John tweaked a nipple and grinned.
"Oh…well, you never know. Stranger things have happened," he said, panting slightly. "Like you and me."
"We're not strange. We fit. You're the first partner I've ever had this much fun with in bed or out. I like you, Rodney—it's not just about sex."
"We are strange, Sheppard. You just haven't realized it yet," Rodney said, his eyes slowly moving toward arousal as John continued to caress him.
"Nope. You'll never convince me of that." He worked a finger under Rodney's boxers, and began to rub the skin just below the waistband.
McKay's eyelids drifted lower and he offered a sigh as he shifted, pushing into John's hands.
John gradually increased the pressure of his strokes, mostly avoiding sensitive places. Rodney was making an impressive tent with his boxers, and with a dirty grin, John started mouthing him through them.
"Oh….come on," Rodney groaned, trying to thrust upward, but John's hands on his hips held him in place.
"Mmmm." John worked the fabric so he could get all of Rodney's head in his mouth. He could taste pre-come where it had already leaked through.
Rodney's hands were on his head, in his hair, trying to force him down further, but John backed off instead, glancing down at the very wet patch on Rodney's boxers.
"Wow." He blew a stream of air across it, drawing a low, shuddering moan from his partner.
"Wow?" Rodney finally managed to get out, looking at John through half-closed, heavy eyelids.
"Wow." John nodded to himself, considering that the end of that part of the conversation.
"Wow what?"
"Hmm?" John was studying Rodney's body, trying to decide what he wanted to sample next.
"What was the wow for?" Rodney said, finally managing to string together several words.
"What? Oh, that. You're really hot. I can't believe I actually have you in my bed. Wow."
Rodney blushed again. "Technically, this is my bed."
"Right. We'll have to do this again in mine then." Finally deciding what he wanted—to taste Rodney but still have the sexy boxers in place—John found the slit and pulled the leaking cock out, sitting back for a moment to admire. "Now that is a beautiful sight."
"Oh, god," Rodney said, rolling his eyes. "This really turns you on, doesn't it?"
"Yes, actually. You should see yourself." John continued to stare, almost absently stroking the cock in front of him as he did.
Rodney shuddered, his eyes closing for a moment before opening again to pin John with a strange look.
Catching the look, John stilled. "Rodney?"
He didn't answer immediately, his cheeks highlighting in a blush. "I know we don't have a lot of time, but I want to feel you. Like the other week. I know I don't really have anything here—"
"Feel me?" John pulled his eyebrows together, trying to figure out what Rodney wanted.
McKay let out a little puff of air before replying. "In the room with the really big bed, you were the only thing I could feel. It was like you were all around me, that you were everywhere. I want to feel that again—even if it's just for a little while."
His face clearing, John leaned down to kiss Rodney deeply. "I can do that." Taking Rodney's hands, he pushed them above his head, smiling when his lover immediately grabbed on to the headboard. John worked the boxers completely off then, and shucked his while he was at it, before settling himself back between Rodney's legs. "Close your eyes, and keep them closed. Don't let go of the headboard. Will that work?"
"I…I don't know. I'll try."
John looked at him carefully, the glanced around the room. There really wasn't much to work with. He could always use a pair of pants as restraints, but a blindfold was harder. He spotted one of Rodney's science shirts nearby. "Okay, not sure if this will work, but let's give it a shot." Getting up again, he grabbed the shirt and twisted it into a rope, moving to the bedside. "This won't be as good as our real blindfold, but we could try it if you want."
"I might have a tie or two in the closet."
John's face lit up. "You're like a kinky Boy Scout—always prepared." He found the items in question buried under a pile of other clothes, and brought them back. He used one around Rodney's eyes, and used the other to secure his wrists together and to the bed. "How's that?"
"I'll never look at these ties the same way again," Rodney commented, tugging at his wrists before letting his arms drop back against the bed.
"But hey, now when you have a formal gathering, instead of being bored the whole time, you'll be thinking about my cock buried in your ass."
"Oh, God," Rodney said, his body shivering in anticipation, his hands tugging at the well-tied fabric.
John found the lube in Rodney's nightstand, but didn't open it yet. Instead he went back to caresses, this time altering pressure and place, until Rodney was panting and straining under him.
"Please, oh god, come on. Please. More." Rodney's demands were constantly whispered, his cock wet and dripping.
John couldn't help smiling that Rodney was finally talking to him. He rewarded it by slicking up two fingers and pushing them in without warning, crooking his fingers to find the sweet spot.
"OH!" Rodney's half-choked off yell was amazing, John thought, as McKay's entire body shuddered before he was pushing back against John's hand.
John let him fuck himself on his fingers for a while, adding a third to make sure he was good and loose, before pulling free. He got himself ready, and pushed in slowly, a hand on Rodney's hip to prevent him from moving.
Rodney groaned long and low as John eased himself into the tight heat, settling in as he covered Rodney's body with his own.
"What are you thinking about right now?" It took effort to remain still, not thrust, but he wanted to get Rodney to talk, tell him what he was thinking.
"You. I'm so full and it hurts so good and I can feel all of you."
Giving a tiny thrust, John angled to hit his prostate again. "And now?"
"Oh…." Rodney moaned, words lost for a moment as pleasure rolled through his body. "You…oh, god, only you."
He began to move, slow, measured thrusts—he wanted to get Rodney to open up, not drown him in pleasure. Yet. "Talk to me. Tell me what's going on in that brain of yours."
Rodney tried—he really did—in between his body's reactions to John's thrusts and touches. "I…can feel you…feels so good…want to know…why it was….never like this before…what else I've been….missing."
"I'll show you. I promise." John captured his mouth in a kiss, positioning his body so he could do that and pick up the thrusts at the same time. He pulled back enough to say "come for me," then dove back in to claim Rodney's mouth.
And Rodney responded—immediately, amazingly—his body shuddering through wave after wave as he spilled between them, moaning into John's mouth, hands tugging at the restraints.
It was too much, the need to go hard and fast overwhelming John—Rodney was just so responsive and—God!—how he'd taken to submission. He'd never had a partner who enjoyed it as much as Rodney, and it was such a turn-on it left him aching. With a few more powerful movements, he was coming, filling Rodney's ass, then collapsing on top.
Rodney nibbling and licking at his jaw brought him back slowly.
"Mmmmm. God, you're good."
"I…I want to hold you. Can you…"
"Of course." John got himself moving, and undid the tie-restraints quickly. He tugged at the blindfold, but didn't take it off yet. "This too?"
"No," Rodney said, his hands sliding down John's body, his arms wrapping around him. "With it on, I can forget about everything else for a little while longer. Here, it's just you and me."
The dominant side of John flared with that, a mix of protectiveness and need he didn't exam too closely. Instead, he curled back against Rodney's side, tangling their limbs together.
Rodney relaxed against him, mouth trailing along John's jaw, tongue mapping every surface until he reached John's mouth, pausing at the outer edge.
John had relaxed into the embrace, but the pause made him blink open his eyes. "Hmmm?"
"You might need to make sure your spot is how you left it the last time."
John couldn't help the chuckle—as much as McKay had resisted being marked at first, now he was almost more possessive about it than John was. He sat up, running a thumb over the fading bruise. "I think I need to fix it."
"Hmm," Rodney said, running his hands over the parts of John he could reach. "You think so?"
"It's getting lighter. I like it when it's dark and purple against your skin. It stands out that way." John was very careful not to use words like 'mine' and 'possession' around Rodney. The scientist was his, and that was one reason for the mark, but he didn't think Rodney was ready to admit that, even to himself. Yet. "Hold still for me while I change that."
"What if I don't want to hold still?" There was a playfulness and lightness in the tone of his voice that hadn't been there before.
John grinned, even though he knew Rodney couldn't see it. "Well, I could always hold you down. Or I could mark you squirming. I bet I could get some interesting shapes that way." He usually tried to make them as close to perfect circles as he could, but sometimes, when Rodney moved, it went askew.
He wasn't expecting Rodney to try and flip him over using his legs.
"Ooof. Wow, okay, that was hot. Makes it hard to mark you though." John squirmed a little under Rodney's heavier bulk, biting back a moan at how good it felt.
"Are you not up for the challenge of a balding, overweight, blindfolded, naked man?"
"Not overweight, and thinning, not balding. I'll give you the naked and man part though." John pushed up against the body holding him down, enjoying the slick feel of skin-on-skin.
"So, what will it be, Sheppard?" Rodney teased, a wide, smug smile on his face.
Despite the recent activity, John's cock gave a hard twitch he knew Rodney could feel at the thought of wrestling him into submission. "You really think you can stop me, McKay?"
"I do have the weight advantage," Rodney said, "and I am on top right now."
"Ah, but I'm the one with training, and I may be skinny, but I'm wiry. I've been sparring with Teyla remember." With a quick movement, John got them flipped, although before he could pin Rodney's arms to his side, the scientist managed to find his ticklish spot, and used the advantage to flip them again. "Okay, no fair!"
Rodney actually laughed this time. "Why not?"
"Because I haven't found yours yet. No using weaknesses I can't exploit on you." John was still—he refused to even think the word giggling.
"Who says I have a ticklish spot?" Rodney asked, grinding his semi-erect cock into John's hip.
John bucked up, this time making a point of grabbing for the clever hands before they could wander, and got Rodney on his back. "Everyone has one. I'll find yours one day, just wait and see."
"Maybe, maybe not," Rodney said, squirming and bucking under John, obviously trying to dislodge him.
John used his knowledge of holds and pins to counter Rodney's weight advantage, and since the other man was still blindfolded, he used the tactical advantage and swooped in to capture his spot, sucking it in and grazing it with his teeth as he kept a tight hold on McKay's wrists.
Rodney offered John a full-body shudder when his lips touched the spot on McKay's neck, the fight immediately fleeing the scene. "Oh…" he moaned, turning his head.
With a dirty chuckle, John went to work, not pulling back until it was exactly how he liked it.
By the time he was done, Rodney was rock hard once again and John wasn't too far behind.
John kissed the spot, nibbling lightly at it now. "I love the way fresh marks look on you. If you'd let me, I'd leave them all over your body. One of these days, you'll let me mark that pert little ass."
"We'll see," Rodney said, grinding his hips upward so their cocks rubbed together.
John groaned. "I'll make it big enough so you can feel it when you sit down. It'll be rubbing against chairs all day, and all you'll be able to think of is how fast you can get me back inside you."
"Oh god…" Rodney moaned, his hands trying to get free of John's grip, but he wasn't ready to let go just yet.
"I'll mark you once on each cheek, right before a staff meeting. You'll sit there and spew all that scientific jargon, and your hands will do the sexy waving thing, but we'll both be thinking about your ass, and what I'll do to it as soon as we're alone again."
Rodney thrust upward, his cock sliding against John's, as he whimpered and moaned almost desperately.
"But I don't think your poor ass can handle being fucked again so soon. After all, I don't want to wear it out. So what are we going to do about this," John shimmied his hips, grinding against Rodney's erection. "Hmm?"
"Oh…god…I don't know. Something. So hard." Rodney's hands flexed in John's grip.
"Wanna fuck me? Wanna slip your cock into my tight ass and make me feel you all day?" Rodney didn't top often, but when he did, John was usually left feeling like a puddle.
"If…if you want."
"No, what do you want?"
"Need to come. Need you," Rodney panted, shifting and tugging against John's hold, seemingly to get even more turned on by the pressure.
"I'm going to let your hands go to get myself ready for you. Don't move them."
"Oh god…" Rodney moaned, bucking up slightly.
John slowly released his grip, fumbling for the lube he had dropped over the side of the bed. Sitting up, he worked one finger into his tight hole, throwing his head back at the sensation. They had fucked enough that Rodney was fairly loose now, and opening him up was more a formality and because they both enjoyed it. John, though, was tight and had to be careful when he bottomed.
Rodney was trying to be still, but his hands kept drifting toward his cock, only to stop when he realized what he was doing.
John thought about saying something, but he was up to two fingers, and found himself riding up and down slowly, getting lost in the sensations for a moment.
The movement must have transferred on the bed because Rodney reached out, one hand heading for his cock while the other reached for John.
He rode his own fingers, Rodney's hand hot on his hip. Why didn't he insist on this more often? He was getting loose and he wanted Rodney in him, and soon. "Oh...oh fuck...I forget when we don't do it this way..."
Rodney moaned and John's eyes shot open, watching as Rodney's hand slid up and down his shaft.
"Hey! That's mine, so hands off." John swatted the hands away. He was going to be seriously annoyed if Rodney came before he was inside. "I'm almost ready, just let me..." He pulled his fingers free, moaning at the loss, and quickly slicked up Rodney's cock. Positioning himself over the top, he slowly sank down, unable to hold back the whimpers as his lover slid home.
McKay groaned long and low, hands clutching John's legs, fingers digging in.
"Blindfold...take it off...please...want to see your eyes..." John was panting, trying hard not to move, to let himself adjust.
Rodney's hands moved, struggling with the knot John had tied, but managing to slide the fabric off. A few deep blinks later and he was staring up at John.
Beautiful blue eyes, dilated with arousal, intent and focused on him and nothing else. John moaned, moving slightly and pleased the burn had faded, leaving behind nothing but pleasure. "Rodney..."
McKay thrust upward, his hands flat on the bed in an effort to get some leverage. He could only get small movements because of how John had him pinned.
"Oh. Oh, do that again." John rose up on his knees a little, giving Rodney some room to move.
With slow, shallow thrusts, Rodney began fucking him, his eyes never leaving John's face. Sweat beaded on his forehead and chest and he was grunting from the effort and moaning from the pleasure.
He couldn't help it, John felt his eyes closing, and his head fell back again. He began to move in time to Rodney's thrusts, and got a hand around himself, wantonly jacking himself off. He was pretty sure he was making pornographic noises, but he was too far gone to care.
"Oh, god, John…" Rodney moaned, shifting a little. The next thrust brushed against John's prostate and he started to fly.
It didn't take him much longer—John couldn't not move now—before he felt himself coming, working hard not to just collapse on Rodney while the other man continued to thrust, now holding him upright as well.
Maybe it was a combination of the weight of his body on Rodney or the clenching or his muscles, but McKay followed him over the edge moments later, slumping against the mattress, sated.
John leaned down, draping himself over Rodney's chest, breathing hard. When he shifted slightly, he could still feel his lover deep inside, and he bit back a quiet moan as over-sensitized skin was rubbed against.
"Sorry," McKay muttered, but didn't move. "I…I think you might have to…"
"Mmmm, s'good here." John didn't often get to enjoy Rodney from this position—and admittedly he usually preferred to get his fix in other ways—but this was really nice.
"Fine, fine. Thought I was hurting you."
John managed to lift his head enough, glad Rodney's lips were close enough to capture without moving. The kiss was sloppy and short, but left them both grinning. "Good morning."
"Morning," Rodney said with a groan. "I think I should have let you do more of the work though."
John felt concern spike through him. He pushed himself up, getting another groan from both of them as he rolled off Rodney. "Did I hurt you?"
"No," Rodney said, pausing before he continued a moment later. "At least no more than usual."
Curling into Rodney's side, John let himself relax again. "Your back? You really need to let me work on that at least every other day. If we can get the knots out, and keep them out, it'll probably hurt less all the time."
"Maybe," Rodney conceded with a hitched sigh. "Either that or I need to be a little more careful."
"We can do both. Besides, it's a good excuse to get my hands on you. I'll take what I can get." John kissed the shoulder closest to him. He always felt affectionate after a great orgasm.
"You don't see me complaining about that," Rodney said, turning his head toward John, catching the corner of the other man's mouth with his.
"Good." John returned the kiss, letting them both enjoy the moment a little longer. He was pulled back by the beep of his alarm, set to warn them when they needed to get up and get showered, so John could make good his escape before the rest of the city started to wake up. "I have to go soon."
"I know." Rodney leaned up, giving John another lazy kiss as he tightened his arms around him.
Returning to their earlier conversation, John trailed his fingers along Rodney's chest. "Hopefully today will be better. And you'll come find me if it gets too bad, right? Even if it's just to have someone to bash 'Back to the Future' with for a few minutes so you can let your brain rest."
McKay sighed. "I'll try."
John reluctantly pushed himself up, planting a last soft kiss before breaking free of Rodney's arms and grabbing his clothes to head to the shower. "At least tell me you'll try to meet me for dinner. You'll need a break by then anyway."
"I'll try," Rodney repeated, rolling to the side with a groan of pain. "I can't imagine how I'd feel if I wasn't on my own mattress."
Flicking the shower on, John left the door open and hollered out as he soaped up quickly. "Back massage! I'll get Beckett to prescribe them a few times a week—even if it's not me, you'll feel better for doing it."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," McKay said wandering slowly into the bathroom, a hand bracing his lower back.
Rolling his eyes, John grabbed him, pushing him so his back was directly under the spray, and telling Atlantis to make it as hot as Rodney could stand. From this angle he couldn't reach all the knots, but he had been with McKay long enough to know the man was one mess of interconnecting pain. He found a few trouble spots on his neck and began to work on them, hoping the hot water would do the rest for now. "And as of now, I'm adding regular abdominal work to your training exercises. You're already making the time to train, so this won't interfere with your schedule, and I've been meaning to do it for a while now anyway. I'll revise the schedule and email it to you later."
"I do have better things to do than waste more time in the gym," Rodney groused, his head leaning down as John dug into one of the knots. "And you're going to be late."
"No extra time. You committed to a few hours a week when you first joined the team. I'm just going to change up what we work on a bit. You're in better shape now anyway, so it was probably time."
Rodney rolled his eyes. "Fine. You're worse than Beckett. You know that, right?"
Ducking out of the shower, John toweled off and pulled on his clothes from last night—it would be enough to get him down the hall to his room to change. "It's called caring, Rodney. Beckett because he's your friend and doctor, and me because I have a vested interest in keeping you pain-free and healthy."
Rodney didn't answer immediately, but John could hear him splashing under the water, most likely washing his hair. A few moments later, the shower cut off and Rodney stepped out, towel around his hips. He was rubbing a smaller towel over his head, making the hair stand up. "What time were you thinking for dinner?"
Not bothering to hide the grin that sprung up—he would never use the word 'adorable' to Rodney's face, but he could think it all he wanted. John closed in for one last damp kiss. "You tell me. I know you're busy today, so how early can you leave and not feel guilty or worry about shit blowing up?"
Rodney snorted and shook his head. "Never is probably the real answer. I have a number of briefings. There's a science team going out tomorrow to check some readings Bates' team picked up and there's a lot of data to go through even before the briefing. Late would be good."
"They stop serving hot food at 2130. How about 2100? That way we don't have to raid for sandwiches." John walked around the room and strapped on the last of his gear, almost ready to head out.
"That should be fine. If it's not, I'll let you know."
"Sounds good. I'll be working on paperwork until I can't stand it anymore. Then I have to go let Teyla beat on me a bit. And, oh shit! I need to go see Carson and let him look at this. I'll see you at 2100 unless something comes up earlier!" John knew the doctor hated people being late for appointments, and he still needed to go back to his room to change.
"Keep on Beckett's good side," Rodney yelled as John stepped out—thankfully into an empty hallway.
With a last quick wave, John ducked around a corner, making it back to his room in record time. By the time he was on his way again, he was already thinking ahead, planning the day, figuring out what needed to be done to keep them all alive and healthy.
***
Even with all the briefings and work Rodney had to do, he'd managed to make dinner with John two nights in a row and more-or-less right on time. As long as Sheppard didn't come to expect it, they were fine.
A few of his staff members had started giving him odd looks when he arrived in the morning, but they were easy to ignore. It wasn't like he had to work through the night just because he could. Granted, working through the night was more common for him than leaving the labs for dinner and returning the next morning, but that was a minor detail. He was the boss. He was allowed to be unpredictable.
And Rodney had to admit the regular sex was nice…more than nice. He honestly couldn't remember the last time he felt so content and relaxed.
Glancing up as Zelenka walked in, McKay waved his hand, ushering Radek over. "Did you get the chance to go through the preliminary reports from Shafer's mission?"
"I began the review, but was pulled away by Kavanagh's foolishness yesterday. I will have it complete by the end of the day, barring further stupidity." Radek rolled his eyes.
"Actually, I was hoping to go over it with you," Rodney said, pointing toward the monitor. "I think we're going to have to send a pretty large science team."
Radek grabbed a stool and rolled it over so he could look over Rodney's shoulder. "You believe this is important enough to warrant such a response? There is an energy signature, yes, but it is not large enough to signal the possible presence of a ZPM."
"No, not a ZPM. But I think it's a power source—a new kind of power source. If you look at the energy output readings and the frequencies, you can see the potential." Rodney clicked over to the raw data, his finger hovering next to the monitor as he pointed out the pertinent points. "It could be a base or an outpost. It might not even be Ancient."
"Huh." Radek's eyes flickered back and forth as he rapidly read through the data. "I see what you mean. Who would you like to go?"
"I'm going to have to get the okay from Doctor Weir, but I want a full science team—I’m thinking at least six people. I'm sure Sheppard's going to insist on a full military escort. We'll get them to bring the heavy equipment. I want to get some ground penetrating radar scans."
"You want someone from each department, or would you prefer to just send the geology and biology teams this time, and the others as needed?"
"Geology needs to go. I’m thinking we may need to send one of the physicists, too. Someone needs to be able to actually make sense of the energy readings."
"Chemistry? Engineering?" Radek pushed his glasses back up his nose, from where they habitually slipped down.
Rodney tapped his fingers on the desk, his mind putting together the different scientists and their specialties. "Let's get Shafer, Watson, Jameson," he said, fingers clicking for a minute as a name escaped him. "That…she tends to hibernate when Kavanagh is on the warpath…"
"Maria Pesher?"
"Yes, Pesher, that's it. And see if Nicols and Zoolander are available."
Radek stared at him. "You mean Zolandier? The French biologist?"
"No. Not her. God, not her. She'd talk everyone to death. The geologist."
"Nicolai Zalondar?"
"Yes, fine. That sounds right," Rodney waved his hand as he rose to his feet. "Can you schedule a briefing? We need to bring Doctor Weir in on this as well."
He caught the edge of something muttered under Radek's breath, half-Czech and half something about names and memory, before the other man raised his voice again. "I will look at the group schedule and fit something in. When would you like the group to leave? That will determine who must re-arrange their schedules, which is the first question they will ask."
"So they rearrange their schedules," Rodney said with a huff as he paused halfway to the door. "This is more important. And tomorrow morning."
"You wish them to leave tomorrow morning? Or you wish the briefing to be tomorrow morning. For a scientist, you are disturbingly vague at times. Are you sure you have not been sniffing alien weed in your off hours?"
"I only wish," Rodney said, stretching his aching back muscles. "Let me be perfectly clear. I want the team to leave tomorrow morning as early as their can get their collective butts out of bed, which means we need to schedule the briefing for this afternoon. Shafer can run through a lot of it."
Radek cocked his head. "Your back is bothering you again? Have you been to see Doctor Beckett lately? It seems you have been uncomfortable more than usual lately. And I will send out the department email as soon as we are finished here, copying you, Major Sheppard, and Doctor Weir."
"Good, good. That will be fine. And yes, for your information, my back is bothering me. Sheppard changed up my training schedule and my back is not very happy about it."
"Ah." Zelenka nodded. "He is preparing you to run and scream like a little girl when your disaster-prone team meets another group of unfriendly natives. I see now."
Rodney scowled, but nodded. "Unfortunately, that is close to the truth. I've been grateful for the downtime, but we have a mission scheduled later in the week. Sheppard pushed it off when he saw me at breakfast. He promises me it'll be better once I get used to the new movements." Although, Rodney thought to himself, that wasn't exactly true. Sheppard had pushed off the mission when Rodney groaned a little louder when he'd rolled out of bed this morning. The new training was only part of it. Add on the additional sessions he was having with both Ford and Teyla, and the regular extra-curricular activities with John…
Radek nodded again. "Yes, you are using muscles that are not accustomed to moving. And you will be grateful for the strength when people are trying to kill you. Do not die—I do not want your job."
"And I have no intention of dying. I'll be back in a while."
"Excellent. I will schedule the meeting, and let you know what time to arrive." Radek had risen and was already moving towards his own workstation.
Rodney waved his hand as he headed out the door. He needed to stop and see Beckett for a muscle-relaxer or something. The ache was driving him up a wall. And then he needed to talk to Elizabeth and Sheppard about the mission.
Swinging by the mess to grab another cup of coffee, Rodney walked slowly toward the infirmary, weaving his way through the halls until he stepped inside Carson's domain, the doctor in the middle of his morning rounds.
"All right, lass," he was saying to a female Marine, who was hopping down off a table. "Just keep an eye on it, and let me know if there's no change in the next few days. Otherwise, it is'na anything to worry about."
"Carson, have a minute?" Rodney asked, watching as the Marine limped out of the infirmary.
Carson looked up, startled to see him. The doctor looked around briefly and then jerked his head in the direction of his office. "Aye, I'm done here. What can I do for you?"
"I think I may have pulled something," Rodney said, easing down into the chair, putting his empty coffee cup on Carson's desk.
"Overdoing it lately? Lean forward a bit and let me see what you've done to yourself." Carson ran a hand down his back, feeling the area. "It's a little inflamed. Why don't we run a quick scan to make sure it's nothing more serious than a strain? Then, I'll give you something to help with the pain."
"That would be a good thing," Rodney said with a groan as Carson helped him to his feet. "And it's not what you're thinking."
Carson raised an eyebrow as he got him on his stomach on one of the scanning beds. "And what is it I'm thinking then?"
"It's the training time with Teyla and then Sheppard went and changed my regular workout."
"Aye, I had heard from both that you've been pushing yourself hard lately. I've been expecting you the last few days—I'm surprised it took you this long."
"You expected me?" Rodney turned his head so he could see Carson and raised an eyebrow.
"Teyla and John both gave me the details of what they have you doing. In the long run I agree with them that you'll have less problems as those muscles strengthen up, but in the beginning, training new muscles is always a bit on the painful side."
"No kidding," Rodney grumbled as he heard the scanner start up.
"We'll just confirm you have'na pulled anything, and I'll give you a mild painkiller to take as needed. Beyond that, believe it or not, continuing to do the exercises they have for you will do wonders for it. Don't give yourself time to stiffen up."
"Great. More pain. Have I mentioned how much I dislike being in pain?"
"The medication will help, and the more you move, the less it will hurt. Just don't overdo it. As those muscles get stronger, you'll experience less pain in general, so keep that goal firmly in mind."
Rodney closed his eyes and tried to relax as the scanner did its job, the hum very calming. He just hoped he hadn't over-done it. He wanted to do this right. He needed to be able to take care of himself out in the field better, and he really didn't want to have to back off. A light touch on his arm brought him back to the present.
"All right, you've been pushing it pretty hard, given how inflamed your muscles are. But it does'na look like you actually pulled or sprained anything. I want you to take a few anti-inflammatory pills along with the painkillers, and take it easy for the next few days. That doesn't mean stop moving though. I meant what I said about stiffening up. Just go a little easier until this eases off, and by next week you should be good to resume a full schedule again."
"What exactly do you consider taking it easy?" Rodney asked as he eased himself upright, letting his feet hang over the edge of the bed. "And I'm supposed to be on a mission at the end of the week—three days from now."
"Taking it easy would be doing, I'd say, half the repetitions of whatever you're doing now. That should be enough to keep you loose, but still allow you to heal up a bit. Take the painkillers, and try to avoid any seriously strenuous extracurricular activity. As long as you can move freely on the day of the mission, I don't foresee any problems there."
"Okay," Rodney said, sliding from the bed and following Carson to the dispensary.
Carson handed him two bottles, quickly giving him the instructions of what to take when. "I really am pretty proud of you, Rodney. I know the physical side of things was never your strong suit, but you've been doing a good job, and this exercise is good for you."
"Sure it is, if it doesn't cripple me first."
With a grin, Carson shook his head. "It won't, trust me."
Rodney scowled. "It certainly feels like it will."
"A new exercise regime is always painful. Even for people like the Major or Teyla. If they were to start doing a type of movement they were'na accustomed to, they would be in as much pain as you are now."
"I doubt that," Rodney said, holding up the two bottles. "Thanks. I have to get back down to the labs to yell at the science staff."
"Don't overdo it!"
"I have no plans to," McKay yelled back, trudging down the hall, annoyed at himself and his out-of-shape body. This was why he never tried to do this normally. He hated the pain part. Hitting his radio, he adjusted it to the private channel he and Sheppard had been using.
"McKay to Sheppard."
"Sheppard here."
"Busy?"
There was a pause. "Nothing that can't be postponed if necessary. What's up?"
"Where are you?" Rodney asked instead of answering, pausing mid-step in the middle of the corridor.
"Armory."
"Oh."
"I'm cleaning some of the weapons. Good place to hide from the paperwork." He could hear the grin in Sheppard's voice.
Rodney nodded to himself and started walking again. "I'll be there in a few minutes if that's okay."
There was another pause. "Sure. No one else around though. Just me and the big guns."
"I wasn't looking for anyone else," McKay said, stepping into the transporter. A moment later he was across the city.
"Oh, good. And here I thought I was losing my flyboy charisma."
Rodney snorted. "As if you could. And where are you exactly? I'm coming up on the door to the armory now."
"Near the back. I have to create reasons to play with the really heavy artillery. We don't take it out much."
"So you're fondling the heavy artillery. Good to know." Rodney weaved his way through the boxes and crates, walking through a few doors until he reached the rear storage area.
"You know me and guns..."
"Far too well, Major."
John looked up as he rounded a corner, sitting on a stool with a large gun standing up between his legs. He had a cloth and was rubbing it down, and Rodney could smell the same oil he knew Sheppard cleaned his sidearm with. "Hey, Rodney!"
McKay rolled his eyes as he tapped his radio off. "That's certainly an interesting sight."
"I live to serve." John grinned, his nimble fingers moving carefully over the weapon, his eyes only half on Rodney.
"I just saw Carson."
This stilled his lover's hands, and got him John's full and immediate attention. "Oh?"
Rodney held up the two bottles, shaking the pills. "I have to cut back some of my repetitions and intensity."
Sheppard grimaced. "That bad, huh? Did you pull anything, or was it just really sore muscles?"
"Carson says the muscles are inflamed, pretty badly, but he doesn't want me to stop moving, just take it easy."
"We can do that. We'll cut the crunches in half, and take fifteen pounds off the weights you're lifting. How long did he say you needed to be careful of it?"
"A few days and to see how things were going. I have pills to help, too," Rodney shook the bottle again. "I also have to be careful with extracurricular activities."
John rolled his eyes, going back to cleaning his gun. "So no really kinky stuff. I think we can handle that."
"Just nothing that's going to put undue pressure on my back," Rodney said, stepping closer.
John looked up as Rodney moved into his personal space, angling his head slightly. "I keep telling you, stop distracting me at night, and I'll give you a massage."
"It's never just a massage with you," Rodney said, an eyebrow rising as he heard the door to the section close.
The grin turned dirty, and John reached out to pull Rodney close enough for a kiss. "I admit it. I start out with good intentions, but then I get you naked..."
"I've noticed," Rodney smiled, leaning in to touch his lips to John's. "And I'm not complaining about it."
"Oh, good. And here I was worried me and my big guns were losing their appeal."
"No. Most definitely not," Rodney said, pressing a kiss to the corner of John's mouth. "We don't really have a lot of time for anything."
"I know." John pulled him so McKay was sharing space between his legs with the gun. "Wow, a hot physicist and a big gun between my thighs. Life doesn't get any better."
Rodney rolled his eyes, relaxing into John's embrace, his hands curving around to rest on Sheppard's back. "You closed the door."
"Hey! What do you know, I think I did." John's hands came around, where they started to knead Rodney's ass lightly.
McKay's cock started to get with the program fairly quickly, not caring that it was the middle of the day or that Rodney should be working. John's hands increased the pressure and Rodney moaned deep in his throat. "You obviously have something in mind."
"I've been trained to take tactical advantage as situations change. Sex and guns individually are hot. Sex surrounded by big guns..." John's hips were making small movements against the gun between them.
"There's something fundamentally wrong with you," Rodney said, rolling his eyes even as his hands tightened on John's back.
"It's part of my charm."
"Is that it? So what did you have in mind?"
"I don't know. I'm making it up as I go along." John's hands moved up enough to dip his fingers just below Rodney's waistband.
"I didn't think the armory was on your list," Rodney said, his body shivering as John touched skin.
"It just got added. I'm not sure why we didn't think of it before."
"Well, I certainly don't come here often enough to put it on any list." Rodney tilted his head, pressing his lips to John's in a close-mouthed kiss, wondering just how far Sheppard was planning on taking this.
"I'm in here all the time. This should have been at least in the top five." John pulled away for a moment, standing and setting aside the artillery and moving back in. He managed to reverse their positions, pushing Rodney onto the stool and dropping to his knees in front of him.
"John?" Rodney raised an eyebrow as he looked down at his lover.
Fingers were slipping the buttons on Rodney's fly, pulling him out through the hole in his boxers. John looked up at him, another of the boyish grins plastered on his face. "I decided to play with a different gun for a while."
"I…ah…see that," Rodney said, shuddering from the touch of John's fingers. "But what if someone walks in?"
"I locked the doors. And we're in the back, we would hear if anyone else was coming this way. Not that anyone ever does. I'm here a few times a month, and I've never had anyone else come looking for me, present company excluded." John had leaned forward, trailing light, teasing kisses down Rodney's length.
"Oh…oh god," Rodney breathed, hands steadying himself on John's shoulders. He managed to lift a hand, grabbing his radio from his ear and tossing it to the nearby table where the pill bottles were sitting.
One of John's hands, which had settled on Rodney's hips, did the same with his own radio. Then it was hot on his skin again, and John was swallowing him whole, taking him deep and humming softly all around him.
"Oh! Fuck!" Rodney said, cutting off the exclamation with a low moan.
John pulled back off for a moment, eyes dark with need. "Don't hold back. There's no one else around to hear." Then he was taking Rodney in again, clever tongue tracing patterns along his head as the suction increased again.
"Public," Rodney gasped. "Oh….god…" He dug him fingers a little tighter into John's shoulders, eyes fluttering closed.
In retaliation, John started humming again, adding the vibrations to the sucking. Every time he got to the head, his tongue dipped into Rodney's slit at the tip, swirling the pre-come away.
Rodney opened his legs a little further apart as he moaned and whimpered, John's talented mouth on his cock the only thing he could feel, the only thing that mattered.
John increased the suction, hands moving restlessly at Rodney's back until they had worked under his shirt to caress skin.
And wow. Skin on skin. Rodney shuddered harder as John's hands continued to move—one staying on Rodney's back, the other moving around toward his chest, caressing, leaving a hot trail where it passed.
Fingers found a nipple and began to tweak in time to John's movement on his cock, creating an intense feedback loop of pleasure.
Arousal and pleasure pooled in the pit of Rodney's stomach, growing larger and larger until nothing could contain it. He started to shudder, his cock pulsing as John swallowed him down, drinking every last drop until Rodney was limp and sated.
John continued to lick until Rodney was clean and then carefully tucked him away. "See, sex and guns—you can't go wrong."
"Hmm," Rodney said, pulling John up, not caring that he wasn't buttoned up yet.
John leaned in for a kiss, and Rodney could taste himself still lingering in his mouth. Rodney could feel John's erection pushing against his hip.
Moaning into the kiss, Rodney opened his mouth when John's tongue insisted, pushing against his lips, demanding entrance. They broke off a few beats later, panting into each other's mouths. "What…what can I do to help you?"
"Just...don't make me...come in my pants again. Okay?" John was thrusting restlessly now, small movements into Rodney's body.
"What do you want?"
"You. Just...you." John's lips moved along Rodney's jaw, tasting, nibbling.
"I'm here. Tell me what you want."
John looked up, his eyes going impossibly darker. "God. Do you have any idea what you do to me?"
"Turn you on?" Rodney's eyebrow rose, his mouth twitching up in a crooked smile. "Same thing you do to me."
John growled, pushing his body in closer. "Touch me. Just... touch me. There's a handkerchief in my pocket. I'd rather not have to take another shower."
"Is that enough? Is that what you want?"
John was nuzzling his neck, making soft noises. "I want you. Touch me, Rodney. Taste me. Please."
Rodney's hands made fast work of John's BDU buttons, pulling John out with a firm grasp. Giving Sheppard a quick and dirty kiss, he eased himself off the stool and kneeled, wincing a little at the motion. But before John could protest, he licked the tip of John's cock and then dove in, swallowing him whole, letting him fill his mouth.
"Oh. Rodney. God. Ohgodohgodohgod." John's hands curled into Rodney's hair, just holding on, clenching and unclenching.
Rodney backed off, swirling his tongue and adding just a little teeth, scraping up and down John's cock before taking him deeper once again, adding suction this time.
John made a garbled noise, going up on his toes before settling back down again. "Fuck, oh, Rodney, please, I need, please..."
Sucking some more, Rodney relaxed his throat letting John in deeper. He looked up at his lover, waiting.
"Oh fuck." John began to move, slowly, carefully. It only took a few thrusts before he was coming, moaning and he poured down Rodney's throat.
McKay swallowed every last drop, licking John's softening cock and tucking him back into place once he was done. He buttoned Sheppard's BDUs back up and stood carefully, trying to fix his own pants.
"You've ruined me for anyone else you know. God, you give fantastic blowjobs." John had managed to get himself onto the stool somehow, saving himself from a trip to the floor.
"I've had practice," Rodney said, feeling his cheeks flush, his fingers fumbling with the buttons.
John pulled him over, pushing his hands away and fixing Rodney's buttons himself. "I'm not complaining."
"Good." Rodney leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of John's mouth. "And I didn't come here for sex, you know."
The corner of John's mouth quirked up under Rodney's lips. "Consider it a reward for how well you're doing with the new exercises. I'm a firm believer in positive reinforcement."
"I'll have to keep that in mind. But I really did want to tell you what Carson found and talk to you about a science mission."
John captured his mouth for a real kiss, deepening it briefly. "So what science mission? I don't remember one being on the roster any time soon."
"It's not for us, actually," Rodney said, reluctantly stepping back a few paces, but it was either that or smack John with his waving hands. "Shafer brought back some very interesting readings and we need to get a full science team to the site along with some heavy equipment."
John settled a little on the stool he was occupying, hands resting on his thighs as he leaned forward a bit. "What kind of readings? When do you want to send them? What kind of escort will they need? What else do we know about the planet?"
"The readings aren't for a ZPM," Rodney began, arms crossing over his chest, "but they are for some kind of power source. They need to go sooner rather than later to get a better idea of what's on the planet. I’m thinking some kind of underground facility since nothing was in plain sight on the surface—which is why I want to send a geologist with ground penetrating radar equipment. It might be nothing, but the energy signature is not natural. I was thinking of sending them out tomorrow. Zelenka's setting up the mission briefing for this afternoon so I can send them out in the morning. Which brings me to you. I need you to assign a small military escort. Shafer said the planet is uninhabited but I'd feel better if someone watched their backs while they worked."
John had been nodding throughout, and was almost beaming at the last request. "Perfect. I have no objections. How many members of the science team are you sending? I'll want probably one soldier at least per scientist, just in case."
"Six scientists, but I think one per is probably overkill at this point. We're talking about an uninhabited planet."
John shook his head. "We've heard that before, only to discover the natives were there, just unfriendly and really good at hiding. We can always scale it back if your people are there for a while and don't encounter any problems."
Rodney rolled his eyes. "Our sensors were working perfectly fine. There was nothing there."
"I'll still be happier with more men for now. If nothing else, it will be good for them to get out and do some work. I'll tell them to view it as a training exercise—protect the geeks, do some surveillance, that sort of thing. Uninhabited worlds with something useful on them are a good chance for both sides to get used to working with each other, and it's not something we run across very often."
"Fine, fine. As long as I can get your support when we talk to Elizabeth later."
"From what it sounds like, this could be a good thing. We need the power, and if it's just there for the taking..." John's eyes went distant for a moment. "All right, I have two teams of all-Marines that have been having some problems working with the science staff. If it's okay with you, I'd like to send them. That's eight men, and I'll make sure they know it's a science mission and your people are in charge unless and until the group is under attack. Those eight need to learn that our job here is to keep the geeks safe, and I'd rather they learn it when there are no lives in actual danger."
"Shafer's going to be in charge of the mission," Rodney said, his forehead scrunching as he frowned, "and I know for a fact that he's had some run-ins with the military. I need this mission to be uneventful."
"So this is probably good for both sides then. Throwing them together and forcing them to learn to work as a team is the only way we'll keep this base running smoothly. I don't want to wake up and discover the lines have been drawn, with scientists on one side, and soldiers on the other. If you were less sure it was uninhabited, I wouldn't suggest it, but easy fact-finding missions are few and far between. And my people will be told Shafer's in charge. If your people have any problems, make sure they know they can come to me and I'll handle it."
Rodney nodded, his lips pressed in a thin line. "Fine. We still have to present this to Elizabeth…"
"I don't see why she would object, but if she does, I'll back you. I think everyone needs a mission like this to go right. We've been here long enough that old patterns are starting to come up and overwrite some of the general camaraderie of 'we're all in this together' we had when we stepped through the gate." John made a face. "Dear God, I'm worrying about base morale. Command is starting to effect the way I think."
"As long as you don't get all stuffy and uppity with me, we're fine. You can worry about base morale all you want." Rodney sighed, glancing toward the door. "I should probably get back to the lab before Radek thinks I deserted."
John sighed. "Sometimes I wonder how things would have been done differently if Sumner was still here and in charge. I never thought I'd be put in charge of a paper bag again, much less a base..." He shook himself. "Anyway, we're going over pre-briefing details. You can tell him I asked all kinds of nosy questions and you couldn't make me stop."
"And we are, technically." Rodney's mouth twisted in a crooked smile.
"Exactly." John rose, moving to put his arms around Rodney's shoulders. "So it won't even be a lie. We just won't mention that's not all we talked about. But yeah, I should get back to cleaning guns. With all this ocean air, if I let them sit too long they'll start to rust. Then they'll do us jack shit when we actually need them."
"And isn't that a lovely thought?"
John nuzzled the side of his neck, kissing 'his spot' through the fabric of Rodney's shirt. "I won't let that happen. Besides, it's relaxing to clean weapons, and a good reason to get away from paperwork. We still on for dinner later? Or will you need to work late to prep everyone for the mission tomorrow?"
"Right now, I don't know," Rodney said, leaning his cheek against the side of John's head. "But I should get back to work."
"Keep me posted. I've been meaning to sit down and chat with Ford when we're not in a commander-subordinate situation, so if you have to cancel, I'll snag him. He's a good kid, and as the only one ranked higher than him, that kinda means I need to take an interest in him. He'll be a great leader one day."
Letting himself enjoy the touch of his lover for one last moment, Rodney sighed and stepped back, untangling himself from John's arms, moving to grab his pill bottles and radio. "You didn't happen to remember where you tossed yours, did you?"
"It's around here somewhere. I think I threw it over in that general direction." John waved toward the table and then walked over, hunting around. After a moment, he bent over and came up with it in his hand, quickly slipping it back on. "All right, have fun terrorizing the science staff. What time do you need me for the briefing? I probably won't get up to check email until later, if at all today."
"I have no idea. Zelenka was scheduling it."
"Give me a call to let me know then. Just give me a few minutes to get cleaned up first, unless you want me smelling like gun oil." John had settled himself back on the stool, gun back between his legs and cloth in hand, almost exactly as Rodney had first found him.
"Well it's certainly not a smell I'm going to forget anytime soon," Rodney said with a grin as he turned, heading for the door that opened even before he reached it.
"Hey, my pants get a little uncomfortable when you start waving your hands around or talking really fast when you get excited about something. It's only fair you have the same reaction to something. Gun oil works for me."
"And I'll keep that in mind, Sheppard," McKay said over his shoulder as he weaved his way through the armory, a list of things he had to do already running through his head.
***
John had spent the rest of the day almost pleasantly. He easily filled his self-imposed quota of weapons care, even managing to get a quick shower in to wash off the excess oil and change clothes. The briefing was easy—despite Rodney's worries about Elizabeth fighting them on it, she had been almost as eager as them, and had approved of the plans for staffing. Rodney had called down to say he was working late in the lab and wouldn't make dinner, so now John found himself hunting for his second-in-command.
He finally tracked the soldier down with Teyla in the gym, pausing to admire how both his teammates had a natural ease with sparring, although their styles were vastly different. He waited until there was a break in the activities before stepping in enough to be seen. "Looking good.
"Thanks, sir," Ford said, immediately standing straight. "Were you looking for Doctor McKay? He left about half an hour ago."
John blinked. "I was looking for you, actually. And what do you mean McKay was here? What was he doing in the training room this time of the day?"
Ford glanced to the side, catching Teyla's eye. "I just thought you were looking for him, sir. You usually are."
"I don't need McKay right now. Actually I was hoping one or both of you were free for dinner. We haven't had much time to just talk, and with no current crisis of the week, I thought this was a good time." John looked back and forth between them. He got the feeling he was missing something.
Teyla shook her head. "I have other training sessions this evening. Perhaps another night?"
"Ford, how about you?"
"Sure, sir. Let me get cleaned up. It'll take me five minutes."
"Sure. I'll wait for you here." John watched the young Lieutenant head back towards the training room showers. He turned to Teyla. "So, wanna tell me why McKay was down here?"
Teyla moved over to her equipment pulling a towel free from the bag, wiping her face down. "Is he not allowed to come to the gym?"
John leaned against a wall, watching her cool down. "I didn't say he wasn't. I was just surprised. He complains loudly through the sessions I put him through twice a week, so I can't imagine why he actually went out of his way to come down here when he doesn't have to be."
She glanced away again, picking up her water bottle. "He is here at least once a day."
John felt his eyes widen. She couldn't be saying what he thought she was. Rodney was not training every day, not without telling him, saying something... "He's...what? Why?"
"That, I believe, you will have to ask him," Teyla said quietly. "I thought you knew of his request for additional training after the mission to Brendal's planet."
"His request for..." John closed his eyes briefly, a stab of something hitting him. He wasn't sure what hurt more, that Rodney didn't trust him enough to mention this as his lover or as a team leader. Seeing Ford coming back through the door, he made an effort to push it aside for now. "Well, ah, good for him I guess. No wonder he's been complaining of back problems, if he's exercising that much. I just thought I'd been pushing him too hard. Ford, ready to grab some dinner?"
"Sure thing, Major," Aiden said, looking uncertainly toward Teyla before moving to walk out with Sheppard.
John caught the look, and wondered why his XO felt so uncomfortable around him. He didn't recall doing anything to him... As they walked down the hall toward the mess, John shot him an easy smile, hoping to relax the man. "I haven't had much of a chance to chat with you lately, other than on missions. Consider yourself with full permission to speak freely about anything until after dinner, all right?"
Aiden looked at him for a moment before nodding, a broad smile growing on his face. "So I heard you were down in the armory earlier. I figured you'd have Bates cleaning."
John grinned back. "Nah, I actually like that job. Not a paper-cut in sight, just me and the guns. I've always been surprised so many people hate cleaning duty."
"It's boring, mindless. I generally prefer something a little more interesting," Ford said with a shrug. "But I have to say that your paper airplanes rock, sir." They stepped into the transporter and were at the mess hall a moment later, heading to the food.
John laughed. "It's all about the aerodynamics and knowing how to use air flow to your best advantage. But even those get old when you make enough of them. Personally, with all the chaos around here, I don't mind a little bit of mindless repetition once in a while. I always had to clear my head before flying, too."
Ford shrugged, already craning his neck to scope out the dinner choices, his tray in hand. "If you say so, sir. And isn't this some of the food from…well, you know where."
"I think that's the difference between foot soldiers and pilots—we're taught to cultivate quiet time when we can, seems like the Marines are all taught to keep going at it all the time." Still grinning, John let his own eyes wander the selection, seeing what Ford was pointing to. "Yeah. Those grape things are pretty good." He grabbed a handful of them.
"I still can't believe we were able to get all of this food," Ford said, loading up his plate and snagging dessert before moving away, waiting as John got his own dinner.
Pushing down his own feelings about that mission—after all, it was a good trade, regardless of how he felt personally about their leader—John finished grabbing a few items and they headed for an empty table in the back. "Yeah, our team doesn't exactly have a good track record with the whole diplomatic thing. If it wasn't for Teyla, we'd probably be banished to worlds we already had firm treaties with."
"And Doctor McKay was a trooper," Ford said, sliding into a chair.
John reflected that it was a good thing his XO was so patently innocent and enthusiastic, otherwise he would suspect the man of baiting him. "Well, you know McKay." They both ate for a moment, John eyeing the younger man. "Ford, I have a question for you, and I'd like to remind you that you can speak freely. I know I don't hear a lot of what goes on around here, what people really think. I'm not asking you to break confidence, but is there anything I need to be aware of?"
Aiden looked confused for a moment, before he shook his head. "I don't think so, sir. But you're just being modest. We all know that you know most everything that happens on Atlantis."
He felt a wry grin cross his lips. "I know what's going on with the city because it doesn't give me much choice. But I want to make sure no one's got any major problems I'm not hearing about." Command was not something he was really comfortable with, and the nano-virus incident still had him questioning his own abilities—Beckett's reassurances or not.
Ford shook his head. "Just the usual stuff, sir. You know how people can get." He shrugged again, taking another mouthful of food and washing it down with water. "Sometimes they swear you're a saint and other times the devil himself—mainly because of our bad luck."
John nodded, knowing from experience that was probably about normal, although internally he cringed to know people were talking about him like that. "Fair enough. I just wanted to make sure. Any good gossip I'm missing?"
Aiden looked up, a sheepish expression on his face. "Well, they are wondering what you're doing with all that wine, sir."
John felt himself blush. "Nothing at all. I don't really drink all that much, especially out here. I was going to hand it over to the kitchen staff, but Elizabeth ordered me to hang on to it. Apparently I looked like I needed a stiff drink."
Ford laughed, the sound coming from his belly. "You certainly did, sir."
"I was thinking of breaking it out on team nights. At least that way I can get rid of some of it. If I wasn't worried about getting caught, I'd just give it to you and let you hand it around."
"No thank you, sir. I want to stay on Doctor Weir's good side. But team night might be fun. We haven't had one of those in a long time."
"I know. That's my fault—I kinda got caught up in everything that's been going on. Pick a movie, I'll free us all up for a night sometime soon. Just try not to deliberately pick something that will have McKay doing the eye-roll thing and complaining the whole time."
"Where's the fun in that, sir?" Ford's grin was hard to ignore and was very contagious. There was something amusing about winding the scientist up.
An amused chuckle escaped John's lips, and he shook his head. "All right, but you get to answer all Teyla's questions then, since I'll be running McKay interference."
"Deal, sir. Any night in particular?" Ford popped some of the near-grapes in his mouth, chewing enthusiastically.
"No, none. Pick one and I'll put it on the team calendar. And stop hogging the grapes." John took a few off Ford's tray—he'd already eaten his own—grinning as he popped them in his mouth.
Ford's eyes shone with amusement as he leaned back. "I should really get moving soon, sir, if you don't mind. Have a few sessions in the range tonight."
John waved his hand, glad he had gotten the opportunity to put whatever had been bothering Ford at ease—the other man was much more relaxed now. "Don't let me stop you. Thanks for the scintillating dinner conversation."
"And thanks for dinner," Ford said rising.
John watched the Lieutenant bounce out of the mess, and stood to follow, dumping his own tray and heading back to his room. He had an email to send out, and a physicist to brood over before bed.
It was still early, so he took a long, hot shower, trying not to let Rodney’s apparent reluctance to tell him about the extra training eat away at his calm. Maybe Rodney thought he had mentioned it, so he thought John knew. Maybe he was embarrassed, although he had no reason to be. It wasn’t any of the darker, more sinister reasons running through John’s head.
It wasn’t.
He pulled on his oldest and softest t-shirt and boxers, the ones he only pulled out when he knew he wasn’t having company and needed a bit of comfort. They had a few very thin spots bordering on holes, and were a strange greenish-blue color. Rodney would probably be in the labs until o-dark-thirty, so there was no chance of him stopping by. So when he was startled awake at who knows what time, his first thought was to grab a gun and point it at the door. When it opened after a few impatient seconds, John had a split second to recognize the profile before he shot. It helped that Rodney was already talking as he walked in. Funny how he always thought getting the man not to talk when a gun was pointed at him was the way to keep him alive.
"No no no, Radek. That's not right. You can load that with the other equipment," Rodney was saying, shaking his head as his hands waved. "Just…just let Shafer do it in the morning…Yes yes. I'll be there. McKay out."
Rodney triggered the lights up as he walked in, leaving John blinking, in worn boxers, with a gun in his hand. As much as he cared for Rodney, he had to wonder about the direction his life had taken sometimes. "Ah."
"John! What the—" Rodney broke off, finally catching sight of Sheppard, his entire body stopping in place, hands in mid-air. "And what the hell are you wearing?"
Sheppard felt a flush creep up his body, and he tried to cover by putting his sidearm back in the drawer by the bed. "I didn't think I'd see you tonight."
"What? Why?" Confusion passed over Rodney's face, but he'd still yet to move again. "Look, if you'd rather I wasn't here, I can go back to my quarters and my real mattress. I'd hate to interrupt your communing with your sidearm."
"No, come in. I just figured you'd be at the lab all night. And uh, sorry about the gun. I fell asleep, and when the door chimed it startled me." John scooted over on the bed to make room for Rodney.
"Okay, so I admit I'm later than normal and I have to be up in about six hours, but I didn't think I'd be met with a gun-toting half-naked Major. I don't have to stay. I’m imposing. Look, I'll just leave and we can forget the whole thing," Rodney said, already turning on his heel.
"Rodney. Come to bed." John told the door not to open. There were days when having a city in love with you really came in handy. He pushed himself off the bed. "I'll change into something less...old."
McKay sighed, but started pulling off his clothes, placing them carefully on the desk in a pile, boots on the floor alongside. "And you don't have to change for me. I've just never seen that," his hand waved absently, "getup before."
John flushed again. Damn it, he liked these boxers! "They're soft. I, uh, don't usually wear them when anyone else is around."
"Like I said, you don't have to change on my account," McKay said, carefully picking up his pants and boxers where he'd let them drop to the floor. "I'm just going to get comfortable if that's okay."
"When has that ever not been okay?" John fidgeted, then sat back down on the bed. It would look a little too much like the twelve-year-old girl Rodney was always accusing him of being if he changed his boxers to look good. He already felt stupid enough. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but found himself ambushed by a huge yawn.
Rodney turned, raising an eyebrow as he folded the last of his clothes. "Are you okay? I actually didn't expect you to be in bed already."
And that brought the reason he had been brooding and had fallen asleep early right back to the front of his brain. And he wasn't sure he wanted to deal with it right now. "Just tired I guess."
"You were fine earlier."
John laid back on the bed, hoping Rodney would, for once, maybe drop it and just come to bed. "You coming?"
"Yes, in a minute," Rodney snapped, arms crossing over his bare chest. "Did something happen after I left you this afternoon? You're…brooding."
Rodney had the look he occasionally got that John had learned meant he would refuse to drop the subject until he was satisfied he had the whole story. He closed his eyes so he couldn't see his lover's reaction—or get distracted by the sexy body being paraded in front of him. "From what I understand you've been training daily with Ford and Teyla. And have been since Brendal's planet."
The silence was thick before Rodney finally answered, his voice losing the edge and sharpness from a moment ago. "Who told you?"
"I went to collect Ford from the gym for dinner, and they asked if I was looking for you, since you had apparently just left." And didn't that answer the question as to whether or not McKay had just forgotten to tell him, or was deliberately keeping it from him.
"Oh."
"So I have to ask myself, why wouldn't you mention that to me, especially when I started increasing the work I had you doing. I had narrowed it down to simply slipping your mind, or you just didn't want me to know."
"I just…" Rodney began before breaking off. "I didn't mean not to tell you. It just never came up."
"All the times we talk about your training. Hell, this afternoon when you were telling me you had to take it easy." John took a deep breath, still refusing to open his eyes. He really didn't want to see—admittedly he was afraid of what he would see. "Is it because I'm only good for sex, or because you don't trust me as your team leader? Or did you think I wouldn't help you if you asked?"
"No," Rodney replied quietly. "I didn't want to bother you with it."
"Why?" John's voice sounded a lot more ragged, and gave a lot more away than he was comfortable with, even to his own ears.
"You've done so much for me already. More than you should. I…there's some things I need to do myself." Rodney paused. "I didn't mean to hurt you, make you angry."
John sighed, finally opening his eyes. Rodney looked dejected. God, he really was a twelve-year-old girl sometimes. "I'm not angry. I was surprised, I guess. I'm your team leader and your lover, and this is something I need to know to keep you safe."
Rodney's arms tightened around himself even more. "It's not like I’m going to ever be good at any of this," he said, his gaze fixed on the floor. "I asked Teyla for some help with hand-to-hand and Ford with weapons."
John stood up again, and crossed the room to wrap his arms around Rodney. "Good. And you should keep it up. I'll ease off a bit on the sessions with me, and I'll coordinate with them to make sure we're working all your muscles, and not all putting strain on the same areas." He worked a finger under Rodney's chin and forced him to look up. "And you are good at this. No, you're not a soldier, but you aren't supposed to be—if you were, I'd be out of a job."
"I know I should have told you," Rodney said, his eyes still skittish and John couldn't tell if he was afraid or embarrassed at being found out. "I meant to, but it was never the right time and then I just never got around to it."
"It's all right. I'll get over it. Like I said, it took me by surprise is all." He felt the material of his boxers rub against his leg. The sudden need to be under covers before Rodney actually got a chance to look at them—his clever fingers were sure to find the worn spots and holes—was almost overwhelming. "Now can we go to bed? You've got to be up early tomorrow."
"Maybe I should just go."
"No."
"You'd obviously be more comfortable without me here."
Blinking, John tried to connect the dots. He could keep up with Rodney most of the time, but there were days that quick mind ran off without him. "What makes you think that?"
Rodney shrugged. "I can just tell."
John flushed again, knowing he needed to come clean about the damn boxers. "Yeah, that's all shorts-related. I wasn't kidding when I said I hadn't worn them in front of anyone else. I won't even wash them if there's anyone else around."
"Look, if you want me to go, you don't have to make up stuff about your pathetic excuse for boxers," Rodney blustered, turning back to the pile of clothes he'd folded carefully on the desk. "You know I could care less about what you're wearing."
"Rodney, I don't want you to go. I want you to come to bed so I can wrap myself around you and go back to sleep. And these are very comfortable boxers. They're really soft in all the right places." John grabbed Rodney's arm and pulled him up against his body. "I'm sorry I got weird and pointed a gun at you. Let's go to bed."
McKay's body was tight and stiff, radiating uncertainty and discomfort—but not of the physical kind. "That's it? You're angry and now you're not. It can't be as simple as that."
"I wasn't angry!" John was aware he had raised his voice, so he forced it back to normal levels. "I thought you didn't trust me because I'm shit for a commander, okay?" Letting go, John walked to the other side of the room, a little horrified he had actually said that.
"What? Where did that come from?"
"I was brought here to be a fucking light switch, not a leader."
"And your point? You've kept us alive. That's what matters." Rodney had uncurled, his hands beginning to wave again. "And you know how well-developed my sense of self-preservation is. If I thought for one moment that you couldn't do your job or you were a danger to me or the team, I would say so! I'm not exactly Mister Tact."
Leaning his head against the cool wall, John closed his eyes again. Darkness was his friend. "There's a difference between doing the job, and doing it well. I'm not good at this, Rodney."
"What makes you think that?"
Shaking his head without lifting it from the wall, John clenched his hands in the comforting material at his sides. "I don't suppose we could not talk about this?"
Rodney sighed and when he spoke his voice was quiet. "Whatever you want."
What he wanted was to not feel so fucking lost when it came to leading his men. But since that wasn't going to happen any time soon... "Do you ever wonder what would have happened if you hadn't come to Atlantis? What would have been different?"
"I know what would have happened. I would have screwed something else up and have been sent back to Siberia."
"I'd have served out my commission in the frozen wasteland, and then been quietly discharged and sent on my merry way. Don't let the door hit you on the way out, have a nice life."
"In my case, I sometimes think Siberia might have been the better option," Rodney said quietly.
John turned, surprised. "You belong here. This is your city. Without you, we wouldn't have gotten nearly as far. Hell, we wouldn't have survived this long."
"The same applies to you."
"I'm here because of an accident. Because I was technically disobeying orders by wandering around a base touching things."
"And if it weren't because of your gene and your ability to see how things will turn out and then act on it, we'd all be long dead." Rodney shook his head. "Look, if we're going to spend the rest of the night arguing, I'm going to get dressed and go back to my quarters. Some of us have to get up in the morning."
"We're not arguing. I'm indulging in a minor breakdown and questioning my worth to this expedition. You're just along for the ride." John sighed again and moved back over to the bed, dropping down into it.
"There's nothing to question. If you shouldn’t have been here you wouldn't have been. End of story." Rodney's voice was firm, without any shade of uncertainty. "Can we go to bed now?"
John pushed himself up on his elbows, unable to help the twitch of his lips. "I like the logic. Come to bed, I'm cold."
"You're cold," Rodney rolled his eyes, but moved toward the bed. "I'm the one standing around stark naked."
"But you're a walking space heater. I think I shed heat like a cat sheds fur." John wrapped himself around Rodney, letting the warmth—both physical and, while he would never say it out loud, emotional—sink into him.
McKay sighed, shifting on the bed, groaning a little as his back adjusted to the mattress.
"Thanks." John muttered it into Rodney's shoulder, not entirely sure if the other man had heard him.
It didn't take long for Rodney to drift off to sleep, his breathing becoming deep and regular, face finally relaxing.
Sitting up enough to smile, John realized that, in his own bizarre way, Rodney had made him feel better. God, what the hell was wrong with him? Chuckling, he curled closer and fell back to sleep.
When he woke up the next morning, John stretched against Rodney's body. He hoped he never got tired of the way the other man felt against him.
"Hmm?"
Leaning in for a sloppy morning kiss, John shifted against him again. "Morning."
Rodney returned the kiss lazily, his eyes still not open. "God, I need coffee," he muttered when John pulled away.
"I still haven't gotten around to getting a pot to keep in here for you."
A bleary eye opened slowly. "What time is it?"
Sitting up enough to glance at the clock, John groaned a little. "0500. Time to get up and send the little geeks and goons out to play."
"Oh, god. I can't wait for them to be gone."
"Hopefully they'll bring us back fun new toys to play with."
"We'll see." Rodney took a deep breath and shifted, rolling to his side as he sat up, groaning the whole way. "I'm just going to throw some clothes on and head back to my quarters to shower and change."
John sat up enough to wrap his arms around Rodney's shoulders, kissing the space between his shoulder blades. "How's your back this morning?"
"Stiff."
"Better than yesterday though?" John's fingers trailed over the almost faded bruise on Rodney's shoulder. "This is almost gone."
"Right now, no. Worse."
"Once you get moving today it should loosen up. I'd offer to let you come jog with me, but I know you won't take me up on it."
"I run enough when there are crazy aliens chasing me." Rodney sighed. "And I need to move."
John got up and came around to kneel between Rodney's legs. Hmm, nice cock. All right Sheppard, focus. "Lemme walk you through a few stretches. You'll feel better, and they won't take long."
"Stretches?"
"Yup. I do then every morning to loosen myself up. Believe it or not, I usually wake up stiff, too." He stood, pulling Rodney along with him. "Follow my movements."
Rodney raised an eyebrow, but obeyed, letting John move him. He hissed and complained, but he did listen.
John walked him through the ten-minute routine, feeling his own body respond as usual. It felt good to get his body moving, ready to go for the day. They were all easy movements, and he kept a close eye on Rodney to make sure he kept it slow enough that the other man could keep up. "Any better?"
"Hmm…surprisingly so," Rodney commented, mouth twitching up in a partial smile.
"See, I do have a good idea on occasion."
"More often than you think," McKay said, heading slowly for the desk and his clothes.
"Flattery will get you...all right, it'll get you sex, but still, it isn't strictly necessary." John managed to get to Rodney before the other man had gotten more than his boxers on. He kissed his way down McKay's jaw and neck, stopping at 'his' spot.
"I really need to go."
John nipped the spot lightly, then with a sigh pulled away. "All right. Have fun berating the minions today."
"Oh yeah, joy. I wish I didn't have to, but they'd end up blowing us up if I didn't," Rodney said, pulling on his pants with a minimum of groans, his shirt and jacket following. The socks and boots came last.
"My men were briefed yesterday, and will be waiting in the Gateroom for any last-minute warnings you might have for them before the group leaves. Remember we're supposed to have dinner tonight."
"Yeah. I'll try to make it."
"Let me know if anything changes." John sat back on the bed, lying down to stare at the ceiling. He couldn't avoid the paperwork today, so he started categorizing what needed to be done, and what he could realistically continue to put off.
Rodney left with a hesitant smile and nod, leaving Sheppard to his musings.
With a groan, John got up and pulled on hi sweats, heading out for his morning run. As always, it left him energized, and he had to admit, he was feeling a lot better. A quick shower later, and he was headed down to the mess to grab breakfast and tackle paperwork. He had just grabbed a tray, when he turned around and almost ran literally into Elizabeth. "Doctor Weir! Sorry about that. Didn't see you there."
"Obviously," Elizabeth said with a tolerant smile, stepping around him to grab a piece of fruit. "You were in your own world. Everything okay?"
"Yeah. Just thinking ahead to the day." He cocked his head and glanced at a table, a silent invitation to join him if she wanted to.
"I'm actually late for a meeting with Rodney," she said, her lips twitching. "I overslept. Maybe tomorrow?"
"Sure. Enjoy the Wrath of McKay. He doesn't like when people make him wait." John smiled and thought about waving, but the tray was heavy enough that such a maneuver could end badly.
She nodded, a light chuckle drifting in the air as she walked away, not hurrying.
John's favorite table tucked away in the far corner was empty, so he folded himself into a chair and ate absently, not really paying much attention to what was going on around him. So he wasn't expecting someone to drop into the seat across from him.
"Hey. I'm late for my meeting with Elizabeth," Rodney said without preamble, "but will you be around later? About two hours from now?"
"I just saw her running off to meet you like fifteen minutes ago." John blinked as his banana-thing and a roll were stolen in rapid succession.
"Oh, really? Huh. Glad I'm not the only one who's running late." Rodney stood, taking a bite of the roll, a cup of coffee clutched in his other hand, tablet PC under his arm. "So, two hours?"
"Um, sure? I'll be in my office working on reports."
Rodney snorted and rolled his eyes. "Your real office?"
"All my offices are real. I haven't decided which one I'll use today yet. Thought I'd live dangerously and play it by ear."
"I'll call you before I come. I have to go." And a few moments later Rodney swept out of the room.
John watched him go, shaking his head. "Welcome to McKayWorld, where shit only makes sense about half the time." He muttered to himself, quickly finishing up his meal and heading to his office. He decided to go with the one with a view today, opening the balcony door and angling his desk so he could see the biggest section of city possible.
He had been working for several hours, working through a sizeable portion of his backlog when his radio chirped. Hitting it absently, he kept his focus on the computer screen. “Sheppard here.”
"I know I told you two hours, but I got sidetracked. Where are you?"
"Hmmm? In my office. What time is it?"
"Time? Oh…almost 11. Which office?"
"Wow. I've been writing and reading reports for four hours? No wonder I have a headache." John rubbed at his temples, finally looking away from the screen. "And oh, the one with a view."
"Perfect. Give me five minutes. McKay out."
John shook his head, leaning back to admire his city while he waited. It was more like twenty minutes when McKay came striding into his office, but the soft breeze blowing in had done wonders for John's headache. "Hey."
"Why is it that my staff can't do anything without me holding their hands?" Rodney asked as he walked in. "Sorry about that. And are you busy? Do you have a few minutes?"
"I'm all yours." John had the chair tipped back as far as it would go safely, feet propped up on the desk. "What's up?"
Rodney's eyebrow rose at John's words, but it didn't dissuade him for long. "I wanted to give you something. Well, I guess it's really more for me, but it's yours," he began, digging into his jacket pocket and pulling out something metal. It was a thin silver necklace—a choker—with a small, quarter-sized thin rectangle box attached to it. "I've been tweaking it for a while now and I thought you might like it and after last night, I thought it might be a nice way to apologize."
Rodney shrugged, but handed the item over, standing in front of John's desk, bouncing a little on his feet.
John raised an eyebrow, but took the little necklace, turning it over in his hands, admiring the sleek lines. "You don't actually have anything to apologize for you know. And what does it do?"
McKay was nearly smug. "It's a personal sound suppression field generator."
It took a moment to process that. "Wait, so it creates a quiet zone?" Considering how bouncy Rodney was—and McKay was never bouncy unless there was something really good coming—this was obviously more to this than... John felt his eyes go wide. "A necklace that mutes sound?"
"Yes. And it's keyed for you. You're the only one who can turn it on and off. I know you don't actually mind using a gag for some of the public locations, but you've also mentioned that it doesn't let you kiss me. This will."
As that processed, John suddenly found himself on his back, feet in the air. He really needed to learn not to tilt his chair when Rodney had 'that' look on his face. "You are a fucking genius."
"John?" Rodney's worried face peered down at him. "Are you okay? Did you hit your head? Do you need me to call Carson?"
"You need to get naked. We so need to try this right now."
"I’m a little…in between about losing my ability to speak, but for sex I'll make an exception," McKay said, his smile turning slightly hesitant. "Was this okay? I found it in one of the flooded rooms we checked over and I just thought…"
"Fucking. Genius." John couldn't wipe the grin off his face as he untangled himself from the chair. So many possibilities. Not only could they get a bit more daring with this little toy, maybe he could get Rodney more comfortable with the idea of just letting go when no one could hear him—then carry it over to when he could.
"I, mean, I think it works. I haven't been able to try it, but all the tests indicate that it is working. I'd hate to raise your expectations and then it just doesn't work. We are talking about a ten-thousand old piece of Ancient technology."
John finally fought free of his traitorous office furniture, going over the desk to Rodney, and continuing on until he had his lover pushed against the wall, his tongue down his throat. When he pulled up for air, Rodney looked a bit dazed. "Can we try it out? I promise, only for sex, then I take it right off."
"Well, I didn't give it to you just so you could do nothing with it."
"You get the best boyfriend ever award. Dating a fucking genius has some amazing perks." John caressed the collar, pausing before putting it on, giving Rodney time to reply before he couldn't.
McKay's eyes were wide, dilating slightly as his breathing picked up.
"You won't be able to tell me if you want it off. Use the universal sign for 'cut' instead, okay?" John mimicked the movement, slicing his palm near his neck.
"Okay," Rodney said, nodding.
Trying to calm the chant of 'so hot, get him naked now' running through John's head, he reverently put the collar around Rodney's neck, telling it to activate. A small, attractive blue light appeared at the center of the square, and John leaned back to admire. "Try saying something."
Rodney scowled, but his lips moved. When no sound came out, McKay's eyes widened. He spoke again and this time John could read his lips. "It worked!"
"Oh yeah." John breathed. His fingers drifted down, finding nipples and tweaking hard. "I want to touch you all over. I want to make you scream with need, here in my office, knowing that without that little necklace, with the balcony door wide open, that half of Atlantis would hear you."
John could feel Rodney reacting, feel him moaning as the suppressed sound vibrated throughout the scientist's body. His cock liked the idea as well as it began to harden.
Tugging at the hem of Rodney's shirt, he managed to get it off, and had to admire again. Rodney without a shirt was sexy. Rodney without a shirt and a pretty silver necklace was hot as hell. He touched the almost-faded bruise on Rodney's shoulder. "I'm going to fix this now. You need my mark on you."
McKay's hands settled on John's hips, fingers tugging at the hem of his shirt as they searched for skin. He tilted his head, giving John the room he needed.
Moaning, John dove in, working at the spot until he felt Rodney shuddering. When he pulled back, the other man had his head thrown back and mouth open, panting silently. It was almost enough to make him come. "You...oh god you're so..." John wrapped a hand around Rodney's neck and pulled him in for a deep kiss.
John could feel Rodney moaning and groaning, feel the vibrations, but he heard nothing at all.
John got a hand worked between them, opening Rodney's pants. He sank to his knees, pulling fabric as he went, freeing up the parts of Rodney John liked to play with. He idly wished he had a dildo so he could fuck his lover and blow him at the same time. Fingers were good, but just not the same.
Rodney's hands were clutching John's shoulders as he looked down, his eyes heavy with arousal.
"I wanna make it last." Oddly, John found himself wanting to give a running commentary. If it had been an impulse with the gag, it was now almost a compulsion. He ran a finger up and down Rodney's red and leaking cock, scraping lightly with a nail on every down-stroke. "I want to feel you trembling with need, barely able to stand, but still not able to come. I want to take you so high, you touch the fucking stars."
Fingers tightened on John's shoulders and Rodney squirmed under his touch. He tried to open his legs a little further, but the pants around his ankles limited his movement.
"I think that first I'll just touch you, and keep doing it until you're aching for more. Then I'll use one finger—is that lube still in your pocket? But I won't let you take control. I'll hold you still so you have to just take the slow, slow feeling of being filled and then have it disappear again. I know you can't come with it slow like that, so I'll keep it up until you're sobbing in that sound field, begging me to take you, fuck you, make you come." John had reached around in the pockets around Rodney's ankles, coming up triumphantly with a little single-use bottle.
Rodney shuddered, his hands clutching tighter as he tried to pull John upward.
John swirled his finger around Rodney's head, pushing the tip into the little slit at the top. "So hot like this, pushed against a wall, naked, pants around your ankles, cock hard and begging for me."
McKay bucked against John's hand, trying to get contact, but Sheppard wouldn't let him, looking up to watch as his scientist panted and moaned—all silently.
"Give it up, Rodney. Say all the things on your mind. Scream. Beg. Call me a fucking son of a bitch for teasing you like this. I won't be able to hear you, so it's safe." John dragged the finger down to Rodney's balls, taking first one, then the other, between thumb and forefinger to roll them lightly.
Rodney shuddered and squirmed and John heard a thump as McKay's head hit the wall, his knees buckling a little. If it weren't for John's hand on his hip, Rodney would have slid down the wall.
With a dirty chuckle, John managed to get the bottle of lube opened with one hand. Using his teeth to hold it, he got a finger slicked up while not letting up on his slow seduction, so when he pushed a finger back and in, Rodney practically came up off the wall. John readjusted his position to make sure his lover would remain upright, while restricting his ability to push back. "I wish you could see yourself like this."
McKay's eyes fluttered and John could feel the deep moan Rodney uttered. He put his hands against the wall to help hold himself upright.
He kept it up for a while—how long he didn't quite know. He lost himself in the feel of Rodney, making him squirm and buck and pant silently. John was pretty sure he was being called a lot of unflattering names by the time Rodney was desperately pulling at him again, eyes wide and needy and begging and almost panicked with the intensity of the pleasure. "Shhh, I've got you." John rose to his feet again, managing to do so without withdrawing his finger, and pressed light kisses to the corners of Rodney's mouth.
Turning his head, Rodney managed to catch John's mouth in a kiss, wet and dirty, his mouth open, his tongue battling with John's. Sheppard could feel McKay's pulse racing even as he tried to rub against John, as he tried to get the other man to move, to do something.
Taking pity on him, John began to move his finger again, taking control of the kiss and tongue-fucking Rodney in time to the thrusts. He got his other hand around Rodney's dick, and added it to the rhythm—still slow and steady, but hard enough that Rodney would be able to come from it eventually.
John could feel Rodney groaning and whimpering, clutching at John tightly as he was pulled closer and closer to his climax.
"Come for me. Come now." John whispered it into Rodney's mouth, moving down to his neck to bite down on the spot again.
One stroke later and Rodney's body shuddered hard—his cock pulsing in John's hand, spilling between the two of them. He slumped against the wall, panting silently, knees threatening to give out.
John continued to gentle him through the aftershocks, pulling his finger out slowly at the same time. When Rodney's body looked completely boneless, John eased him to the floor. His own, thus far neglected cock was aching to be touched, so he worked his fly open and got a hand down his pants. After the slow build-up for Rodney, he couldn't bring himself to make it hard and fast, so he kept the strokes slow and light at first.
Rodney's hand on his made John pause, looking up into the sated eyes of his lover.
Swallowing hard, John couldn't believe the emotion Rodney could convey with his eyes. When Rodney pushed his hand away from his pants, then tugged at them, he got the hint. McKay was such a bottom slut, and John thanked every god in the Milky Way and Pegasus for that fact. "You up for being fucked, or too sensitive?"
McKay nodded, a slow smile forming on his lips.
John looked around and saw the abandoned lube nearby. He managed to get his boots off with a minimum of fuss, pants and boxers quickly following—and yeah, the idea to start keeping clean uniforms in all his offices was just pure gold. He slicked himself up and got Rodney on his back, legs up on John's shoulders as he pushed in slowly. Rodney was obviously making noises in the sound field, but John had to remind himself that screaming 'oh fuck yes so tight oh my god' was probably not wise at this time. Instead, he breathed out a single word. "Rodney..."
McKay was clenching his muscles around John's cock and then relaxing, letting him slide in deeper and deeper, his body squirming and shuddering. Rodney's face, though, told the whole story—his head thrown back, open-mouthed panting, his eyes half-closed.
John couldn't drag it out long. He had already driven himself too close to the edge. He found Rodney's prostate, and was impressed that the other man was hard again this soon—he honestly hadn't thought Rodney would be able to get it up again that fast. A few hard strokes later, and Rodney was coming again, followed swiftly by John, who promptly collapsed on top of his chest. He managed to reach up for the necklace, touching the box and telling it to stop for now before letting himself go completely limp.
"Oh, god," Rodney whispered, his voice rough.
"Best. Present. Ever."
"Glad you liked it," Rodney said, his hands trailing under the back of John's shirt.
"I think I've adequately proved 'like' is too mild a term." John found himself making a noise suspiciously like a purr as Rodney continued to pet him.
"And you are evil."
"Evil? John arched a little into the touch. He knew they would have to get up off the floor soon or risk crippling Rodney, but for the moment he enjoyed the contact. He was beginning to suspect Rodney, with his analytical mind, was testing out John's responses, learning what to say and do to throw him into a dominant headspace so fast it almost left him breathless at times.
"Evil."
"I'm not the one who makes fiendishly clever sex toys designed to get my partner to go from bored to achingly hard in ten seconds or less."
"I didn't make it," Rodney replied, his hand rising off of John's back. Knowing the scientist, a finger was probably pointing as he tried to explain. "I found it and simply figured out what it was and how it might be used."
"Close enough. I need to figure out how to get it into my tack vest to carry with me around the city. I just added a lot of new places to the list." John sat up, stretching and letting his fingers trail over Rodney. They both groaned as he pulled out and climbed off, reaching out a hand to help Rodney up.
"Just…give me a minute," Rodney said.
"All right. Don't stay down there too long. I don't want to have to explain to Beckett how I broke you this time." John dug around in the bottom of his desk, pulling out a fresh pair of BDUs, a clean black tee-shirt, and a spare pair of boxers, quickly stripping his soiled shirt off and getting changed. He balled the dirty clothes up, careful to hide the incriminating stains, and set the bundle aside to dump with his laundry later.
McKay was moving slowly but surely and had already managed to get to his knees before he started looking around the room. "Please tell me you have something to clean me up with."
John looked around, flushing a little. "Okay, so I didn't think this through quite as well as I thought." He pulled his t-shirt back out of the dirty pile and handed it over. "Will that work?"
Rodney nodded, taking the offered shirt from John's hand and starting to wipe himself off. "I think I might need to stop at my quarters," he said after a few seconds, looking up with a rueful expression on his face.
John was distracted by the way Rodney moved, admiring the lines of his body, the way he was put together. "Hmm?"
"Stop that!"
"Stop what?" Now that he was really looking, John realized he could see a bit of difference in Rodney since he had started really working on his body. There were areas where he was just a bit less soft, a bit more toned. It wasn't anything major yet, since Rodney had only been at it a short while, but still...
"If you keep looking at me like that I'll never get out of here."
John finally got up to Rodney's eyes, seeing the beginnings of arousal there again. He grinned. "I can't help it. You have a body that was meant to be admired."
McKay flushed, his eyes sliding away. "You're just saying that because you're still in the middle of your post-coital haze."
Moving to the still-naked scientist, John put a hand around his neck, leaning down for a kiss. "And I'm in a post-coital haze because you came in here with your hot body and tempted me beyond reason. I'd say we need a naked day on Atlantis so I would have an excuse to keep you like this longer, but then everyone else would be able to see you too, and I'd have to start hurting people."
"Too many people have seen me naked already and I'm not exactly a prize specimen," Rodney said scowling even though his eyes were pleased by John's compliment. McKay kept his head tilted back as he looked up at John, his hands still clutching the black t-shirt.
John let his fingers trail along Rodney's jaw in a gentle caress. He once again had to curse the men who had left his lover with such low self-esteem. "No one else needs to see you naked anytime soon. I'd have to put guards outside your door to keep the masses from mauling you."
Rodney blushed again, but held Sheppard's eyes. "Doubtful on the guards part. And unless you had something else in mind, I should probably get dressed and get back to work."
"I don't know, having you on your knees and naked is making me think long and hard about getting interested again." John knew he actually probably couldn't get it up again at the moment, but Rodney was very attractive when he blushed. He leaned down again, brushing a kiss across Rodney's forehead. The word 'mine' was on the tip of his tongue, and he wanted desperately to claim Rodney, but the physicist was so independent, he was still afraid it would drive him away.
"There's always later. No mission tomorrow."
"What time can you get away tonight?" They hadn't used the cuffs since that day in the new section of the city. He was still feeling a bit possessive, after that wonderful little toy, and he knew he would need some time to play with Rodney's body to work it out of his system. "Come over to my place?"
Rodney thought for a moment. "I have to check on some experiments since I sent the scientists off-world but I can probably realistically do 1830 or 1900. I will need to get dinner, though." He paused again, his expression turning rueful. "I do, however, need to get off my knees and get dressed."
John smiled and held out a hand to haul Rodney off the floor. "1900 sounds good. I'll grab something from the mess and bring it to my quarters. And, oh! That reminds me, Ford and I were talking about having a team night soon. Watch for an email from him with the date. We haven't done one in a while."
"Team night?" Rodney asked, raising an eyebrow as he pressed a quick kiss to John's lips before turning to locate his boxers and pants, carefully stepping into both.
John admired the ass being displayed for him as Rodney bent to dress, getting distracted again. Yup, he needed to spend some time playing with it tonight. Rodney's question finally penetrated, though, when the other man turned and caught the direction of his stare, breaking him out of his impromptu fantasies. "Team night. You know, you, me, Teyla, Ford. A movie, popcorn, mocking the bad science and explaining Earth culture to the alien. We haven't done one in a while."
"No, no we haven't," Rodney said, his eyes rolling as he realized what John had been ogling. "We haven't had much time to breathe let alone just hang out and do nothing."
Holding his shirt in his hands, he stepped closer to John, stopping a few inches away. "Would you mind taking off the nice little choker? The whole 'keyed only to you' thing works for the clasp, too."
Okay, his thought that he couldn't get it up again this fast? Totally shot down in a flaming ball of glory. John dove in, plundering Rodney's mouth until he was forced to let them both breathe. "Okay, I may find the collar unbelievably hot, and I can't be held responsible for the mauling that will happen as a result."
McKay's hands were buried in John's shirt, fisting it tightly as he panted, leaning his forehead against Sheppard's. "I knew I should have waited."
"Oh no. Any time you find little toys like this, feel free to bring them to my immediate attention." John ran a finger along the cool silver-like metal, shivering at the contrast with Rodney's hot skin. He dipped his head down, following the same path with his tongue, moaning at the way the taste of it mingled with McKay's unique flavor. "I think you managed to find a kink I was previously unaware of."
"Oh…I…I did?" Rodney stuttered, leaning into John's touch.
"I haven't decided if it's the whole jewelry aspect, or the choker/collar aspect, knowing it's keyed to me, or even just what it does when it's turned on. I'll have to run some tests and get back to you on it." John shifted his hands down, finding both nipples, and began to fondle them as he continued to lick along the necklace.
McKay shivered, moaning as John continued to play and stroke and tweak, panting into John's ear. "Oh…god…John…"
"I really should stop and let you get back to work." John didn't want to stop though. He continued to play, not knowing if he had the willpower when it came to his sexy scientist to let go and let him get dressed and leave right now.
"I…I know…" Rodney breathed, his hands stroking John's sides, fingers searching for skin. "You feel so good," he moaned quietly.
"That's my line." John walked them backwards, until he had Rodney back against the wall. That taken care of, he lowered his head, pulling one nipple between his lips and sucking, while he continued to roll and tweak the other.
"Oh, god!" McKay said, cutting off the exclamation. He squirmed under the torment, hands threading through John's hair, as he continued to moan. "John…oh…"
Pulling off, John nibbled his way back up towards Rodney's lips. "We're both dressed, and I don't have any more clean uniforms here."
"Oh, god…don't you stop now."
John let a wicked grin slowly curve his lips. "I could leave you wanting like this, craving my touch, wanting me to make you come. Because you wouldn't go take care of it yourself, you would wait for me, for tonight." Of course, that would mean, in all fairness, that John wouldn't be able to take care of his own very interested dick. He wasn't sure he wanted to go that route, but he figured he would see how Rodney reacted before making a decision.
Rodney shuddered, leaning heavily into John. "Oh god, you are trying to kill me."
"Anticipation just makes the payoff that much sweeter." John gentled his movements, slowly bring Rodney back down from the edge.
McKay's breathing slowly evened out, his desperate clutches and demanding grasps softening. "You. Are. Evil."
"I have to keep it interesting, otherwise you might lose interest." John kissed Rodney gently, careful not to let it escalate again. He wrapped one hand back around his lover's neck, mentally telling the collar to open the catch so he could slide it off.
"Evil," he repeated, his lips ghosting over John's with the single word.
"I'll make it up to you tonight. Don't be late. 1900."
"And if I am?" Rodney asked, finally stepping back, leaning down to grab his shirt that he'd dropped.
John leaned against the desk, watching. He quickly came up with and discarded several ideas before settling on one. "I think then I would have to cuff you to the bed and make you watch while I jerk myself off before we got to anything else."
Rodney's body stiffened immediately, his head slowly turning to look at John with very wide eyes. "You…you…what?"
John shrugged. "You asked. That's probably what I would do. I can't get release either until you show up. I wouldn't ask you to abstain from our little mutual problem without doing the same. So if you're late, it only seems fair to me that I get to come right away. Don't you think?"
"I…ah…I…ah…guess."
Grinning, John watched as Rodney struggled to get his shirt back on. His face had gone bright red again as he fully processed what John wanted to do, and the erection, which had gone down a bit, looked uncomfortable again.
"We…we haven't used those since the other night."
"I know. I was already thinking I wanted to pull them out again tonight. Your ass needs some serious attention, and you always manage to distract me when I really get started." Rodney's slow walk to the submission side of the Force was going to drive John absolutely batty, he was sure, but damn it was a fun ride.
"I distract you?" Rodney's eyebrow went up at that remark. "Who's the one standing here very uncomfortably, I might add?"
"Yeah, but the difference is that I do it on purpose, you just do it by being you. I'd call that an unfair advantage."
"I do not! And you purposely want me like this?"
"So you are pushing all my buttons deliberately? Because I've been half-hard pretty much all the time since we started this. And a little before that." John had to admit, teasing Rodney was almost as much fun as having sex with him. "And yeah, I think I do want you like that. Knowing you're hot and hard for me all day—that's the stuff of really good fantasies. I'm just lucky I have a lover who lets me get away with it."
"I'm not doing anything! Don't you get it?" Rodney's voice had gone up in volume and octave and John started getting the "warning, danger Will Robinson" alert messages as his lover managed to go from aroused and sated to ten seconds away from a heart attack. "I have no idea what I'm doing, what either of us are doing, and knowing my fantastic ability to piss people off with just a look, I'm sure we're just working up to that."
"Rodney." John was at his side, arms wrapping around him to squeeze tight. "Hey, it's okay. I was teasing you. Yes, you distract me, but that's because I want you. I like you just the way you are, and I already knew you were bad with people long before we started this. I'm not going anywhere."
"I just really don't want to screw this up," Rodney replied quietly, face pressed into John's neck.
"You won't. I wasn't complaining—just the opposite. I love that you distract me all the time. It feels good to want someone this much, and to be wanted in return." John kissed the side of Rodney's head. He had been making a point of curbing his tongue and his teasing when it came to the bedroom and their thing together, but times like this reminded him of exactly why he was doing it. Rodney just wasn't ready to hear stuff like that yet, not without freaking out.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry," Rodney said, pulling away, embarrassment flushing his cheeks this time as his hands waved, his eyes focused somewhere on the floor. "I just start thinking and then it can spin out of control and then I still don't understand how this whole thing is ever going to work—especially because this is something that I really, really want and anything that I really want usually never works out the way I want it to and then it goes from bad to worse to intolerable faster than you can say 'bad idea' and then—"
John decided the best way to stop the flow of words was to attack it at the source. He captured Rodney's lips, feeling the other man attempting to keep talking for a few seconds into the kiss. John didn't pull back until Rodney was relaxing into his arms again. "It's already working, so stop worrying about that. I'm not saying there won't ever be any problems, we're both too stubborn for there not to be, but just because we disagree on something, doesn't mean we want each other any less. I'm not going anywhere."
"Fine, fine. I get it. You like me because I'm a handsome man and you'll never look at anyone else. I can live with that." Rodney took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "And…sorry. This was supposed to be a nice surprise and not a freak-out thing."
John continued to nibble at the sides of Rodney's mouth, wanting to reassure his lover, not let him leave feeling agitated and upset. "It can be both. It was a really nice surprise, and freak-outs I can handle. I'm sorry, too. I didn't mean to push so hard."
"It's not you. At least I don't think it's you. At this point it's me. And if I want to have any hope in hell of actually getting off at a reasonable hour tonight, I need to go."
John pushed another soft kiss to Rodney's lips. "It's not you or me, its just part of figuring it all out. Don't worry about it, okay? See you at 1900 tonight."
McKay snorted. "That's like telling me not to talk and yeah," he said, pulling on his jacket, "tonight. Right now I need to stop at my quarters or else everyone will know how I spent the last hour."
"They'd all be jealous of me for getting to sleep with the hottest guy in Atlantis." John leaned back against the desk again. Two steps forward, one step back. Rodney was worth the work, but he had to admit he was looking forward to the day when his partner didn't need to be danced around quite so carefully.
He snorted again, shaking his head as he headed for the door. "And now you're plainly stretching the truth." McKay left a moment later muttering about blind Majors, idiotic scientists, and showers.
John watched him leave, fingering the slim silver necklace he had tossed on the desk earlier, smiling. He would just have to demonstrate his feelings on the matter. Tonight. It was going to be a long, pleasurable night.
***
The meeting with John hadn't gone exactly as Rodney expected. Well, it had gone partially the way he'd thought. He hadn't expected his own freak out or just how…happy John had looked at him. Rodney had expected him to be pleasantly surprised, but John had been…intense, amazing, like a coiled spring preparing to release.
The rest of the day went more or less as planned—at least something did, Rodney thought, rubbing a hand over his face. He was finishing up the briefing with Shafer's team over the MALP. Things seemed to be going right on schedule. They'd set up camp and were preparing to settle in for the night and start fresh in the morning.
The readings were still the same, but they had yet to decide on where they would start their search. At this point, Rodney didn't care as long as it got done.
"That's great, Shafer. Sounds fine. Pick a spot and start but make sure you are organized about it. I don't want to hear that you missed a spot later."
"Believe it or not, I know what I'm doing, McKay. We'll check in again this time tomorrow with a report. Shafer out."
"Atlantis out," McKay said with a groan, rubbing both hands over his face as he leaned over one of the control room consoles.
"You look tired, Sir." Chris...Cameron...Charles...Chuck?... the gate tech, was looking at him with sympathy. "It's getting late sir, why don't you grab some dinner and try to get some sleep?"
"It's been a long day," Rodney said, straightening up with a hiss. "What time is it anyway?"
Steve—maybe?—checked his watch. "About 1950, sir. You won't be able to get a hot meal, but you should be able to get the mess staff to make you a sandwich before they close out for the night."
Rodney felt his eyes widening. "You're kidding?"
"No sir. They hand out sandwiches until about 2130, for those of us who work the dinner shift. I'm sure they wouldn't mind giving you one."
"Nononono. The time, the time. It can't be that late!" Rodney shoved the chair back as he stood, glancing down at his own watch to confirm. 1951. Crap. Damn. Sheppard was going to kill him.
"Sir?" Gate Tech was starting to look worried.
"I had an experiment running that I needed to check on at 1900. I…damn…tell Doctor Weir I'll talk to her in the morning." Rodney was already moving, heading down the stairs to the nearest transporter.
"I'll let her know..." The voice trailed behind him.
The walk—run—to Sheppard's quarters took too long. Way too long. He finally slid to a halt in front of John's door, breathing heavy, and he triggered the chime.
The door slid open for him, allowing him to move inside, where it promptly closed behind him. John was sitting on the bed, one tray of food nearby, with an empty one sitting next to it. The leather cuffs were next to him. He set down the book he had been reading as Rodney walked in. "Hi, Rodney."
"I’m sorry I'm late," he began immediately. "I lost track of the time and then we had an awfully long briefing with Shafer over the MALP and—"
"Eat. We can chat about that in a minute. But before we get into it, I want to make sure you have a good meal." John gestured towards the tray, which held all foods that could, fortunately, be eaten cold.
"Oh, god. You have food. If you didn't I was going to have to run to the mess and grab something because I ate something real quick at lunch and I really need to eat something tonight otherwise—"
"McKay. Sit down. Take a deep breath. Eat dinner. Try not to use run-on sentences with no audible punctuation."
"I—" Rodney began again, but noting John's serious expression decided it was easier to just eat. It wasn't his fault that he was nervous. Taking a breath, McKay moved over to the bed, sitting down and reaching for some of the food on the tray, taking a big bite of the sandwich. "Thanks for bringing this down," he said around a mouthful of dinner.
"I told you I would." John was watching him, a strange look on his face. It wasn't angry or nervous or upset. It was the sort of expression that could be classified in other circumstances as fondly exasperated.
"You're not mad?" Rodney took a long pull from the bottle of water before biting into the sandwich again, watching John carefully. This wasn't what he expected. He was anticipating screaming, arguments, explanations, excuses—the usual.
"Nope. I told you what I planned to do if you were late. That hasn't changed. But to be honest I wasn't expecting you to be on time when I said that, so..."
Rodney's eyes widened as he stopped chewing mid-bite. "You were serious?"
A grin was hovering around John's lips. "Finish your dinner."
"Oh, god," Rodney continued, "you were serious!"
"They had the blue Jell-O. Don't want it to go bad." John pointed at the tray, still smirking.
Rodney took another bite of his sandwich watching John watch him. What was he thinking? What did he really want from him? He couldn't really be serious about the whole cuffs thing and making him watch….could he?
McKay absently finished off his dinner, washing it down with the rest of the water, leaving the dessert and fruit on the tray.
"Jell-O. Unless of course you want me to lick it off you later. But honestly, I don't really like the blue all that much. We'd both be happier if you just ate it now."
"I…I'm okay. I should probably just eat a little something before we actually sleep tonight."
"Good idea. I'll give you sugar before bed, so when you wake up, you'll be ready to go another round. Go ahead and strip then. Slowly. I've never had the chance to just watch you get undressed. We're always in too much of a hurry."
"I…what?" Rodney knew he'd heard what the other man said, but…what?
"Strip. As in, take off your clothes. Slowly. So I can watch."
"Right now?"
"Yup."
Rodney stared at John for a long moment, waiting to see if he was joking. When the man simply continued to look at him, McKay glanced away. Sighing, he bent down to untie his boots, sliding his feet free of the hikers before stripping off his socks and stuffing them in his shoes.
With a quick glance at John, he stood carefully, bringing his boots over to the desk and placing them alongside.
John's eyes had gone dark, and he was watching intently. "Shirt next."
"Shirt next," Rodney repeated, rolling his eyes. "Do I get to take off my jacket first?"
"Unless you've got some talents you haven't mentioned yet." John was back to smirking again. "I just wanted to point out that you should do your shirt before you take off your pants."
"Fine. Shirt's next." Rodney pulled off his jacket, hanging it over the back of John's desk chair before yanking his shirt over his head, folding it before he put it on the desk.
"Slowly."
"I’m not doing a strip tease. I'm getting undressed as you requested. I can't go much slower."
"I need to get find some really bad disco and a pole and teach you the fine art of stripping for an audience."
Rodney crossed his arms over his chest. "No."
Chuckling, John waved at him vaguely. "You can take the pants off now."
"Oh, thank you, kind sir," Rodney said snidely, rolling his eyes as he unbuttoned his pants, sliding them down his legs. He let them drop to the floor and stepped out of them.
"Sir in the bedroom, Rodney? Kinky."
"Would you rather I called you Major?"
"John or God will do. Sir only if you really want me to give you orders and you plan to obey them." John wasn't even trying to hide the grin.
Rodney's arms crossed over his chest as he tried to ignore his growing arousal to the whole situation.
"You still have fabric on your body. And your poor dick is just begging to be let free. Look at it, straining against the material. You should be nicer to your dick—off with the boxers."
Holding John's eyes, Rodney slid the boxers down, letting them drop like his pants, kicking them off to the side once they hit the ground. He pulled his radio off a moment later, dropping it onto the desk.
"You now have one naked astrophysicist in your room. What's next, sir?" He added the last word as an afterthought, but made sure he put the proper emphasis on it to make sure John didn't miss it.
His reward was the sound of a sharp inhalation of breath, and John's eyes going darker. "Fuck, Rodney... Come over here and lay down, hands above your head." John shifted so he was sitting on the far edge of the bed.
McKay moved slowly, approaching the bed with deliberate steps until he stopped just out of John's reach.
John licked his lips, his eyes constantly moving over Rodney's body. "Well?"
"Well, what? You just think I’m going to lie down and just let you have your way?"
"I was sort of hoping you would, yeah."
"Huh."
"So...?"
"You just want me to sit down on your bed, swing my legs up, and lie back?"
"Then let me cuff you to the bed and have my way with you, yes."
"Oh, in that case…" Rodney rolled his eyes.
John looked pointed at Rodney's traitorous dick, which was quite happily voting for Rodney to just go along with Sheppard's plan. "Have I ever done anything you didn't like?"
"No," Rodney answered immediately.
"So why are you afraid to trust me now? Is it because I told you earlier how I was going to start the evening?"
"No." No, it wasn't that. It was more his own reaction to the events in question.
John stood up and walked around to him, putting his arms around Rodney's waist and pulling him in close. "So what then? If you don't tell me, I can't help."
Rodney sighed. "It's stupid."
"I can almost guarantee you it's not stupid. First of all, you're Doctor Rodney McKay, and nothing you do is stupid. Insane and deranged at times, but not stupid. Second, if something is bothering you, it's better to deal with it—that kind of thing isn't stupid, it's human."
Rodney sighed again, trying to decide what his uneasiness all boiled down to. It wasn't that he had a problem with what John was suggesting. On the contrary, he really liked what John was suggesting. Just letting Sheppard do what he wanted, taking all of the pressure and the decisions off of him. But, how could he want something—anything—remotely like that?
"Sometimes I think…I think I shouldn't like some of this as much as I do."
"Why? And what specifically?" John was rubbing circles on his back, and had pulled his head back enough to watch Rodney carefully, concern written all over his face.
"It's…hard to explain."
"Try. I'm willing to bet you'll feel a lot better if you do."
Rodney paused, trying to figure out for once what to say. He didn't want it to come out wrong. "Just so you know up front, I really don't have any issues with what you have in mind tonight. None at all."
John smiled gently, guiding Rodney so they were both sitting on the bed, John's arms still wrapped around him, pulling him close. "Duly noted. And we'll get to that in a bit."
"It's just…hard to let go like you want me to. I can tell. I know you like that. I've seen it and I really don't mind. I…I think I really like that…dynamic. But it's…it's just hard."
John had arranged them so Rodney's head was on his shoulder, and now he rested his own on top. "I suspected you were falling into the sub positions on instinct. And yes, they turn me on and I really like it. But I've never tried to hide that I like being dominant in the bedroom. I know it's hard to give up control sometimes, which is why I've been taking it slow, making sure it's what you want. There's nothing wrong with enjoying the submissive headspace, you know."
"But I don't want to lose me, either."
"That's not what this is about. I'm not interested in running your life or changing who you are. I just want to make you relax, let go for a little while. Then when you do go back to work, your head won't be so cluttered up with all the extra information you don't immediately need. Think of it as me helping you pick up the mental clutter and put it all neatly away so you can find everything later without having to go searching."
Rodney snorted, but something in his chest had uncurled as John was talking. "There's a lot more in there than you think."
"Hey, I'm willing to keep at it for as long as it takes. Several times a day if necessary." John moved, and reached around to tilt Rodney's face up. "If there's ever anything I do or say that makes you uncomfortable, tell me and I'll stop immediately."
"I know. And you've been understanding—more than I would have been."
John kissed him lightly. "I doubt that. You can be surprisingly understanding when I least expect it."
"So this…dominant thing…"
"Yeah?"
"Why?"
"Why do I like it? I don't know. I think it has to do with wanting to make my partner feel good, wanting to give them pleasure. When I fall into that headspace, my own need takes a back seat."
"But it also means that you're…in control."
"True. I've tried it the other way—I've been chained to my share of beds—and I do enjoy it. And there are times, if you're interested, I'd be willing to give up control to you. But I do prefer the more dominant role, yes. I prefer to be the one giving pleasure than the one being pleasured. It turns me on to know I'm the one taking my partner to those places."
"And you're…really good at it."
"While that's good for my ego, I assure you, it's just because I've had practice."
"So, what do you get out of it?"
"I get you. Trust me, I don't just do this out of some sense of duty. I like you, Rodney. I'm attracted to you, and I want to run my hands all over your body and learn how every part of you tastes and feels. What you get from submission, that sense of peace, of being able to relax, I get from being the one to take you there."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Huh."
John grinned, and pulled him closer, letting Rodney relax into his side and digest everything quietly for a minute.
Rodney knew he still didn't understand everything, but right now he knew he trusted John, knew that he wouldn't hurt him, knew how much he enjoyed what they'd done before.
Letting out a deep breath, McKay finally straightened, looking John in the eyes.
"I…I seem to have gotten us a little sidetracked."
"It's all right. I can always tease you another night." John's free hand had moved to Rodney's leg, where his thumb was drawing small circles.
"No. You had a plan. I think we should stick with it…sir."
He felt John twitch against him. "For the record, that hits the dominance kink pretty hard."
"I'll keep that in mind, sir," Rodney replied, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a crooked smile.
John groaned quietly, his eyes once more almost black with arousal. He hadn't been joking when he said it did the trick for him. Rodney filed that away for future use. "Lie down on the bed then, arms above your head."
Rodney paused for a moment, watching John before he moved, lying down in the middle of the bed, his hands on the pillow above his head. He was nervous, but he also trusted John.
And he wanted this.
John was watching, his voice quiet. "You really are amazing. So fucking amazing." He moved to cover Rodney's body with his own, still fully clothed one. He caught Rodney's mouth in a kiss, and after a moment, McKay felt the cool slide of leather over his wrists. John pulled away, a question on his face.
Rodney nodded. "I'm okay. I trust you."
John sucked in a breath. "Thank you." It was whispered, and Rodney felt him clip the cuffs together, and secure them to the bed. "I need...I need to touch you."
"I don't have any way to stop you from doing that, now do I…sir?"
John's groan was louder this time, and Rodney could feel the evidence of just how much his lover liked this pressing into his hip. John's hands began to roam over his body, almost too light to feel at some points, and pressing down hard at others.
Rodney squirmed under the onslaught, moaning and whimpering as John touched and caressed, shuddering when John tweaked and played with his nipples. He tugged at the bonds holding his hands in place, wanting to touch but unable—the restriction of his movement pushing him higher.
"I want to play with your ass. I left a little slack in the restraints. Can you turn over?"
"I…sure…" Rodney managed to say as he panted, letting John help him. He turned his head to the side, watching his lover as best as he could.
And Sheppard was amazing to watch.
John had a look of both adoration and concentration on his face. He was gently running his fingers along Rodney's ass, tracing its lines, and staying carefully away from the little hole begging for his attention. John leaned down and began to place careful kisses all along both halves, and Rodney felt the occasional addition of teeth and tongue.
He squirmed and moaned as John continued to tease, the friction on his cock making him whimper as his body shifted against the mattress.
"I love your ass," John whispered between kisses. "I have to force myself not to stare at it every time you walk out of a room, and I find reasons to walk behind you so I can admire the way it moves."
Rodney's snort turned into a deeper moan as John bit down on his ass.
"Such a perfect ass. As ass meant to be fucked often, and with a lot of enthusiasm." Rodney felt another bite, this time on the other cheek.
Pressing his head into the pillow, Rodney found himself pushing his hips upward, trying to get more pressure, more contact from John.
He wasn't even aware that he was whimpering until John's murmured reassurances drifted back to him. "It's okay. Just relax. I'll give you what you need."
"Need you," Rodney whispered, tugging at the restraints.
"I'm right here."
"Please."
John shifted, and a wet, hot tongue was pressing into Rodney's entrance, pulling out to tease around the opening, then pushing in again.
"Oh!" Rodney exclaimed before his shout changed to whimpers and moans deep in his throat.
He felt John's chuckle, even as his lover continued to rim him, taste him. John's hands weren't still either. They were kneading Rodney's ass in time to the thrusts of his tongue.
Rodney's body was one big nerve as he shivered and shuddered at the intrusion, at John's touch. "Please, more…" he whispered, begging.
The wet disappeared for a moment. "You know, I really need to find the hidden cache of Ancient sex toys. We need a dildo so I can fuck you and still be free to do other things to you at the same time."
"Oh god," Rodney whimpered, his small movements only pushing his frustration and arousal higher.
John was still for a moment, and Rodney started to get restless. "Turn over onto your back, and scoot up the bed a bit so you can see."
"What?" Rodney asked, his brain a little slow.
The bed dipped, as John's weight left it. Rodney heard the sound of buttons being popped and clothes being pulled off. "Turn back over."
Without the use of his hands, it took Rodney two tries before he flipped onto his back, before he received an eyeful of one naked Air Force Major. "Oh…wow."
John grinned and then climbed up the bed so he was straddling Rodney's legs, his impressive erection sticking out in front of him. John started to lightly stroke himself. "I believe I owed you a show. If you can come just watching, feel free."
"And if I can't?" Rodney asked. He couldn’t pull his eyes from John's beautiful cock or the hands stroking it. He only wished he was the one touching him, stroking him. McKay tugged at his bonds again, wanting, needing to touch.
"If you can't, I'll take care of it later. After I recover from the amazing orgasm I'm about to have." Like he had the few other times Rodney had watched John touch himself, his lover's head started to fall back. With a start, Rodney realized John's other hand was around back, pushing a finger into himself as he jerked off inches from Rodney's achingly hard shaft.
Rodney groaned, long and deep, watching as John finger-fucked himself and stroked himself, slowly rising to completion. Unfortunately, Rodney needed just a little more to push him over the edge.
Greedily, hungrily he watched as John's strokes became erratic and he started to pulse, spilling over his hand and onto Rodney's cock and stomach, coating him with come. McKay groaned again, whimpering when he couldn't get his own release.
"John, please…"
John had slumped forward, and one come-covered hand reached out, finding Rodney's cock and beginning to pump him with hard, quick strokes. "Come for me."
Three strokes later and Rodney was coming, his hips bucking up as much as John would allow him to, his come mixing with John's. He slumped back against the mattress, boneless.
They both laid there, panting, until John finally pushed himself up with a groan. He disappeared into the bathroom, only to return a few minutes later clean and with a damp washcloth. He carefully cleaned Rodney off before tossing it against a wall. "If I had had a dildo, I would have pushed it in and left it there while you watched."
"Oh, god…" Rodney groaned, shifting on the bed, imaging what it would have felt like.
John laughed quietly, even as he fit his body around Rodney's. Reaching up, he undid the clasps that held him to the bed, allowing him to lower his arms, but didn't take them off. "Beads would have worked too. I could have pushed them in one by one, and every time you moved you would have felt them shifting against each other. Then, after I came, I would have pulled them out in one long rush and you would have come so hard, you would be sure your brain had just leaked out of your cock."
Rodney put his bound arms around John as best as he could, resting his wrists on Sheppard's back as he pulled the other man into a kiss, moaning into his mouth at the scenarios John envisioned.
And then McKay realized he wanted that—and more. And for a moment, Rodney was flying again.
John shifted around and claimed Rodney's mouth, both of them getting lost in the sensation for a while. Finally John pulled back to let them breathe, and curled his body against Rodney's. "So good..."
"Yes…more…please, sir," Rodney panted, his whispered pleas reaching John's ears.
"Oh God, you're killing me. Rodney..." Fingers found his nipples again, fondling them.
"Oh!" Rodney said, shuddering. "I…I want…"
Sitting up, the cuffs were quickly removed. "Touch me. I need...Just touch me." John lowered his head to suck in a nipple, arching his body into Rodney's hands as he did.
Rodney obliged, running his hands on John—wherever he could reach. Touching, stroking, tweaking. "John…" Rodney whispered as the other man moaned, mouth tightening on one of Rodney's nipples.
The groan around the sensitized nub nearly sent Rodney off the bed. John pulled off with a pop, eyes dark again. "I want to be in you now. Can you take me without any prep?"
"I…I don't think so. But John…?"
A stuttered groan, and John was fumbling for the lube, slicking up his fingers. "Yeah?"
"God…as much as I want you in me right this minute…I…I want to…I know you've been holding back for me and I don't know if I could be as patient as you are…have been…but I want to know what's it's like to…submit…to you. I don't know if that's just something you can turn on or off, or if that's really even possible to do…"
John groaned again, and leaned forward to rest his head on Rodney's stomach. "You... God you are trying to kill me, aren't you? Do you have any idea how much I want to fuck you right now?" John stayed still for a moment, breath harsh against Rodney's skin. "Yes, I hold back because I don't want to push too hard too fast. But you have submitted to me, Rodney. You let me mark you. And that night in room, the first time we used the blindfold and cuffs? That was the sub headspace; that was you just letting me... God I want you, but if you want to go that deep again, I can try to take you there."
"I…that was…"
John wiggled up far enough to catch Rodney in another kiss. "That was submission, yes. And you fell into it naturally, enjoyed it. I think it's easier for you when I take away your senses, reduce you to just feeling, isn't it?"
Breathing deeply, his forehead leaning against John's, Rodney tried to sort out what he wanted, what he needed. "I…I don't know. That night was…I've never experienced anything like it. I didn't know things could be like that. But I also don't want you to hold back. It's not fair to you."
"I've never had a partner who slipped into it so deep for so long either. It was...God it was perfect. Being with you is amazing every time, but yeah, that was pretty incredible." John kissed along his jaw, using his nose to nuzzle Rodney's cheek. "I don't mind holding back. I'd rather bring you there slowly, wait until I know you'll enjoy it."
"I think I need to know…need to be conscious of what it is, what it feels like. I need to know what it feels like when you're not holding back."
"I don't want to scare you away."
"Is it that bad?"
"Not bad, just intense. It means asking you to give up complete control to me. Letting me do whatever I want without hesitation or thinking about it. I know I can make you fly, but I... you have no idea how much I want you, how much I want to do to you. I want to mark you in more than just that spot. I want to bring you to the edge of orgasm and hold you there, not let you step over the edge. I want..."
Rodney put a finger over John's lips. "I need to know."
John stared into his eyes for a long time, and Rodney saw when he made the decision. "All right. You seem to fall into it faster with sensory deprivation. Arms back over your head." He slipped off, and Rodney saw him grab the cuffs and blindfold.
Rodney held John's eyes for a long moment before nodding to himself, closing his eyes as he lifted his hands into place and waited.
The cuffs slipped back into place, and Rodney felt the pull when they were reattached to the bed. A moment later, fabric was slipped over his eyes, blocking out even the light that had shone through his eyelids. "So beautiful like this."
Rodney tugged at the bonds, feeling the security, the comfort of the leather wrapped around his wrists. He could feel Sheppard looking at him, watching him. "John?"
"Rodney."
"I trust you. Do what you want."
He heard a small noise, and knew it had come from John. "I want you to talk. Say everything that comes to your mind. I want to hear you, know what you think when I touch you."
"I'll try. But, John?"
"Yes?"
He wanted to do this, needed to know if this is something he really wanted as much as he thought he did. He didn't want to go part of the way, to make John hold anything back. Rodney needed John to know that everything was his. "If you want to…if you want to take that ability away from me, too. I'm okay with that. Anything you want."
A finger ghosted across his lips. "I know. And I will, sometimes. But tonight I want to hear you. In a few minutes, I'm going to stop talking, stop telling you what I'm doing. I want you to fill in the silences. Can you do that for me?"
"I…yes. I can do that."
"Good. If you have any other questions, ask now."
Rodney nodded. "I have one."
"Okay. Ask."
"Are you sure you're okay with this?"
Ghostly lips touched his lightly. "Yes. More than you realize. I want you, Rodney. Like this, in my bed, laid bare for me, all the time."
Rodney leaned up, deepening the kiss for a moment before John pulled away.
"Start talking. Don't make yourself hoarse, or force it, but I want to hear whatever thoughts are drifting across your head. I want to hear your brain shut down as I touch you."
McKay chuckled nervously. "Shut my brain off? I’m not sure if that's entirely possible. There's always something that crosses my mind."
John didn't say anything, but Rodney felt the barest of touches running down each of his sides.
He shivered at the sensation, tensing a little when John's hands fell away from him again. "Sometimes I wish I could read people's minds, to know what they're thinking, what they really mean when they say something."
The touch this time was along his right leg, starting at the thigh, pausing to swirl around his kneecap, before continuing down to his foot and disappearing again.
"But then other times I wonder if I really want to know. In my vast pool of experience, people rarely say what they mean—and that tends to be very…confusing."
The finger treated his left leg to the same path, the touch just firm enough to let him know it was there.
Rodney shifted, trying to get more contact, more pressure, but John backed off, making him huff. "Why can't people just say what they mean? Wouldn't that make more sense and just make things better?"
There was no touch for a moment, although Rodney could hear John moving around the room, presumably searching for something.
Turning his head to the side, Rodney listened, trying to figure out what John was doing. "But that's also why I like science. It's neat, orderly. Things make sense. People, not so much."
The sounds moved back to the bed again, and then Rodney felt something soft running across his stomach, down his cock, and around both his balls before it was pulled away.
"What the…" Rodney lifted his head off the pillow for a moment as if he could see what John was doing before dropping it back down.
He heard a huff of breath, knew it was the sound of John chuckling at him. The soft, light thing was dragged across his stomach again, this time circling each of his nipples.
"Fine, go ahead and laugh," Rodney complained, but without the usual heat. He tried to shift a little, but all the touch did was frustrate him—not enough feeling to do anything.
The—what the hell was that?—thing continued to be dragged all over his body, at random. John didn't say anything.
"Where was I?" Rodney pulled his thoughts back to his musings. "Oh, yeah. People. Maybe that's why I'm so bad with them. They just don't make any sense."
He had just gotten used to the feather-light touches when, from out of nowhere, his nipple was pinched, hard, then released.
"Fuck!" he panted, his body rising off the bed for a moment as blood rush southward. Nipple play usually meant sex—or at least his dick thought so. "See, that's a perfect example. I wasn't expecting that."
Another chuckle was the only sound John made, returning to the light, sweeping touches, this time centering around his erection.
"But see, I like that a lot more. But if you just actually touched my cock it would make it all the more better," Rodney said reasonably. John, though, disagreed apparently, avoiding his dick.
"Mmmm." Whatever John was touching him with was flexible—his lover started weaving it around his balls, drawing a figure-eight. It was slightly more pressure, but not much.
"You know, a little more pressure would be nice," Rodney commented, shoving his hips up a little, but remembering he needed to be careful about his back.
At that, the touch disappeared completely, and didn't return right away.
"Oh, come on!" Rodney complained. He waited a moment but when John didn't return immediately, McKay sighed. "Fine. Talking. That's what I was doing. Right now I'm thinking I'd like you to hurry up, but I also have the strange sensation that you're going to take your own sweet time."
Another chuckle, accompanied by the soft thing being dragged across his lips briefly.
"Oh, my god. Is that a feather? Do you have any idea what kind of diseases that thing could be carrying? It might have some strange—"
He must have guessed right, because he was pretty sure it was the pointy end of the thing being dragged across his stomach slowly, making a beeline for one of his nipples. It wasn't being pressed in hard enough to hurt, but it was a shock in contrast to the previous sensations.
"Oh…" Rodney squirmed, wanting to get away from the sharp pointy object, but another part of him was really turned on. "That's…weird…"
It reached his nipple and circled it, starting far out, getting closer to the nub on each pass until, after what seemed like a long time, it reached its goal. John scraped a few tight circles on the tip before taking the feather away again.
Rodney moaned and panted, his cock fully hard thanks to John's ministrations. "I never realized that I liked someone playing with my nipples until you."
The sharp end of the feather started back on his stomach and started making its way towards his other nipple.
McKay squirmed, already knowing what John had in store. "And while I pride myself on being able to talk people to death, right now I'm running out of things to say because part of me really wonders if me talking during sex is a good idea."
"Yes." It was one word, but it sounded breathy, like John was getting incredibly turned on by what he was doing to Rodney. The feather reached his nipple and left him arching slightly to try to follow it as it was taken away again.
"Yes what? Yes, this is what you wanted? Yes, you want me to stop talking? Yes, you want me to keep going?"
"Keep talking."
"But I don't know what to say! I don't know what you want to hear, what you expect—"
A finger this time was placed on his lips, and the next words were whispered in his ear. "I want exactly this. I like this. I don't expect anything, just you telling me what this makes you think of, what directions it takes your brain."
Rodney shivered as John's breath ghosted over his ear. "But none of it is appropriate for sex!"
"What makes you think that? Sex is just intimacy, and what's more intimate than telling me what's going on in your head? Let go, Rodney. Just talk. Don't try to give me what you think I want to hear, or try to compose speeches. Just tell me what's drifting across your mind."
He sighed, nodding. "I don't like not having a point of reference and I thought you wanted me to stop thinking."
"I do. But you're trying too hard. You're trying to force it, and that won't happen. Stop second-guessing me, trying to anticipate what comes next. Just feel, and then tell me about it."
"I second guess myself all the time. Second-guessing everyone else comes naturally."
"Trust me."
"I do. Really."
"You think you do, and you want to, but you don't. You're afraid, and you tense up every time I take my hands away, every time you can't figure out where I'm going next."
"But I like your hands on me."
"I know." He heard John sigh. "This is a lot harder when I'm trying to do it deliberately."
"I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have asked."
"Yes, you should have." Lips were pressed to his neck. "I'll get you there. I just have to figure out how to throw you into the headspace on command. It will be easier every time we do this."
Rodney turned his head in an attempt to catch John's mouth with his own, missing his intended target. "I think," he said, pressing a kiss to Sheppard's jaw. "I'm distracting myself."
"I think you are, too." He felt John move, and then his mouth was being slowly devoured. John pulled away slowly, sucking on Rodney's bottom lip.
He moaned at the pressure, feeling John finally let go. "What? And I was serious. I never pay much attention to what goes through my mind on a minute by minute basis because it's just so much, but to actually put it in words so that it makes some kind of sense requires me to actually pay attention—"
John's lips were moving, nibbling and sucking a path down his neck and along his shoulder.
"Mmm," Rodney said, tilting his neck to the side. "But like I was saying, it actually requires me to pay attention. But if I’m paying attention to what's going on in my mind I'm generally not paying any attention to anything else."
John found a nipple, sucking it in, rolling his tongue around it.
"Oh…." Rodney moaned, bucking and arching as much as he could. "God, why are you so good?"
"Mmmmm" John started to hum, the vibrations making a path from his nipple to his cock.
"Oh…that feels nice," Rodney purred. "But then…you have all this experience so you should…oh…you should be quite good at this."
John pulled off the nipple slowly, sucking it up until he had to let go. Before Rodney had a chance to process, the other nipple was engulfed in hot and wet.
"Oh! Yeah…oh….but then I really shouldn't….ah…oh…be surprised that you have all this experience because you are…sex…oh….sex on legs."
John made a skeptical noise, although he didn't stop sucking.
"Bu then there's the whole question…ohohoh…question of why you're…or what you find so interesting in me, because I know that you could have just about….ohhhhh…anyone you wanted."
There was a light bite to his nipple, and John pulled off. "I think your estimation of my experience, abilities, and lure are grossly overrated."
"I don't think so. I see how they look at you."
"No one is looking at me. Just you." John was rolling the now-sensitive nipples between his fingers, each one in the opposite direction
"Oh god!" Rodney arched into John's touch—wanting more and less at the same time—moaning and squirming against Sheppard's hands.
Sheppard kept it up until it was just this side of painful and then let them both go at the same time, leaving Rodney with a rush of endorphins flooding his system.
Rodney panted, his cock painfully hard, as he slumped back against the mattress.
He felt a thumb swipe across the head of his dick, spreading moisture over it. Then it disappeared briefly, only to be pressed against his lips. "This is what I taste when I lick you. I can't get enough of the flavor."
Opening his mouth, Rodney let John's thumb slide in, licking and sucking it clean, letting John pull it out with a pop.
He felt another swipe across his dick, and the thumb was back. John kept that up for several minutes, letting Rodney suck his own pre-come, mingled with the taste of John's skin.
Rodney felt himself sliding down, felt his muscles beginning to relax. "I can't believe you're here like this," he whispered as John's damp finger traced patterns along his jaw.
The wet trailed down his body, grazing a still-sensitive nipple before bypassing his dick and moving to his balls. John got his fingers around each of them, and began to gently roll them.
Groaning low and deep in his throat, Rodney bucked up against John as the other man stroked him slowly, his touch firm.
John let go, tugging on them lightly to push away the orgasm Rodney could feel pooling at the base of his spine before moving down to the bottoms of his feet.
Rodney twitched, pulling his feet away only to have John grab his ankle.
A nail scratched up his foot, over and over, not letting him pull away or move enough to change the pressure.
"Come on, Sheppard…" Rodney whined, using his other foot to push at John, trying to get him to move.
"Are you trying to tell me I can't do what I want to your body?"
"There are much more interesting parts."
"I'm not interested in those at the moment. Give me your foot and hold it still. Pull it away, and I'll untie you and end this now."
"I’m interested in the other parts," Rodney huffed, trying to hold still as John played with his foot. He couldn't help that his other foot shoved at John again when the man hit a more sensitive spot.
"I'll get to them. But part of giving up control is not always getting what you want when you want it. Let it go, Rodney. Hold still for me."
"I'm trying."
"I know you are." A hand swept up his leg, and it was comforting in an odd way. "But you're still fighting me."
"I'm sorry. I'm trying. I don't think I'm good at this."
His foot was put down, and after a moment there were lips pressed to his. "You're very good at this. We've just never done it deliberately. It's always harder that way, especially the first time."
Rodney sighed, wishing he wasn't so nervous, wishing he knew just what John expected, wanted. "I'm really trying not to fight you."
"I know." Kisses were pressed along his jaw. "The real problem is that you're still trying too hard."
"I was always an overachiever."
John huffed into his neck. "I can tell. I think I'm going to have to force you to do nothing except feel."
"What? How?"
John's warmth disappeared. "Turn over on to your stomach again."
Sighing, Rodney used his bound hands to give him a little leverage as he flipped over, John not lending a hand until the end to get him centered on the bed.
John tapped on his legs. "Get up on your knees, head and shoulders stay on the bed."
"John, what are you doing?" Rodney asked, pulling his legs under him as best as he could.
John pushed, until Rodney's ass was high in the air, his head pushed into the pillows. For all that it felt silly, he had to admit it was fairly comfortable. "Don't break this position unless I tell you to."
"But John—"
Before he could get any further, fabric was pushed into his mouth, and the gag was tied around his head. "No more talking for you. As much as I like to hear it, you're distracting yourself."
Rodney moaned into the gag, the sound nearly lost entirely. He hadn't been expecting this. Holding still, he waited, listening for any telltale sound that would indicate where John was or what he might be doing.
Hands appeared on the inside of his thighs, forcing him to open them wider, until he was completely exposed, with no way to get any friction on anything unless John gave it to him.
As quickly as the hands appeared they disappeared again and Rodney felt himself shaking a little, anticipating, wanting something to happen.
There was nothing, no sound, no feeling of movement nearby. It reminded Rodney that John was a soldier, and, when he choose to use the skill, could move without absolute silence. So when two fingers were pushed inside him, as deep as they would go, only to be removed as swiftly as they had invaded, he wasn't anticipating it at all.
Rodney yelped at the intrusion and the quick removal, the fabric dampening anything he said. Tugging at the restraints binding his wrists, he moaned wanting more, but he held still knowing that nothing he did would change John's mind. And he did want this. But he was finding the 'letting go' part harder than he thought.
"I think I need to take you higher than I have before, but I can't do that if you come too early." The voice made him jump, since John had been silent for several minutes. One of the spare strips of cloth was suddenly looped around his dick, tight enough that he knew he wouldn't be able to come until John removed it. "There we go. Now I can play and not worry about that."
He whimpered, squirming a little as if the movement would dislodge the fabric.
John disappeared again and then the fingers were back, this time finding his prostate and pressing down, not letting up.
Rodney bucked against John's hand, pleasure shooting through his body, but the make-shift cock ring wasn't going to give him the release his body was demanding. Groaning and whimpering into the gag, Rodney tugged at his bonds, needing to do something.
Finally John moved away from his sweet spot, slowly moving in and out of his body, which the other hand came to rest on his back, petting him.
Feeling his heart-rate start to drop a little, Rodney sucked in a large gulp of air through his nose, feeling a bead of sweat run down his face, getting absorbed in the blindfold. Concentrating on the feeling of John's fingers in him, he slowly began to rock back, pushing them further in, fucking himself on John's hand.
Before he could get a good motion going, the fingers were removed yet again. Before he could whine in protest, they were back, only this time there were four of them, and his body burned a little in a good way as he stretched to accommodate them.
Rodney groaned, stilling as he pressed his face into the pillow, letting John stretch him, loving the feel of John's hand, his fingers, as they slowly slid in deeper as his muscles unclenched and relaxed around him.
John found his prostate again, and he alternated between grazing it and pressing hard on it on every other stroke.
McKay was slowly getting lost in the sensations—impaled on John's fingers and tied to the bed with no where to go, no way to do anything except feel. He shuddered and moaned—long and low—as John finger fucked him, his other hand in the center of his back stroking gently, calming him.
When he was starting to wish for more, to be filled even more fully, the fingers were gently pulled out, only to be replaced by John's hard, long, thick cock, pressing in deep in a single push. When his lover was completely inside him, he stilled, Rodney found his balls being once more fondled, and the hand at his back moved around to latch onto a nipple once again, rolling it with the same even rhythm as his balls.
Rodney groaned and whimpered, his entire body feeling like one big nerve. He was begging, pleading into the gag, but the sound was lost, trapped in the fabric. As John tweaked and pinched the nipple between his fingers, Rodney shuddered, feeling only John—filling him, touching him, playing with him. All he could do was take it and wait until John wanted him to come.
And suddenly, it was as if some of his urgency dropped away.
John would let him come—of that he was sure. He'd said as much. All he had to do was wait.
Rodney could do that.
After a while John began to move, the hand fingering his balls moving to Rodney's hip to brace himself while the other continued to fondle first one nipple, then the other.
Moaning quietly, Rodney let the sensations roll through his body, relishing the fullness and John's touch.
The pace started to quicken, and then there was warmth deep inside him, filling him. John's come. The other man draped himself across Rodney's back for a moment, still petting and fondling, while he recovered.
Rodney hummed deep in his throat, feeling John soften inside of him, feeling the slick wetness slowly seep out, trailing down the back of his thighs.
John's busy hand moved down to take Rodney's dick in hand, stroking it lightly, although he hadn't yet removed the make-shift cock ring. "Should I let you come now? Or should I keep playing?"
As much as he wanted to come, Rodney realized it didn't matter as much as it had earlier.
"I think you've been good, and that deserves a reward. I'm going to take off the fabric now. I want you to come as soon as it's off. Do you think you can do that?" John's strokes got a bit harder, firmer.
Rodney shuddered, moaning as John's hand closed around him.
John didn't let up on the strokes as his other hand came around to untie the cock ring. "Come now."
With a nearly silent groan, Rodney felt himself falling over the edge, his cock pulsing in John's hands as the building pressure finally released. How he managed to stay on his knees, McKay didn't know, but John held him, stroking him through the aftershocks and whispering in his ear.
"So good. So perfect. It's okay, Rodney, I've got you. Give it up to me." As his orgasm finally started to subside, he was lowered to the bed, and felt his hands once more untied from the bed, although neither the gag nor the blindfold was touched. The cuffs themselves were left on, although his hands were no longer bound together, the extra ties brushing against his arms. John had pulled out at some point, and Rodney felt him leave for a moment, only to have the sensation of a warm washcloth cleaning him a few moments later. That done, John pulled Rodney back against his chest, holding him close.
Rodney slid his hands around John, shoving his leg between the other man's while he buried into Sheppard's shoulder, just holding on, letting the smell and the feel of the other man surround him—his entire body relaxing even further.
John was rubbing his back again, not saying anything, just holding him. Everything had narrowed down to John.
And right at this moment, nothing mattered except the man around him.
Rodney didn't know how long they stayed like that, John holding him, touching him. After a while he felt the gag being loosened and pulled free. Before he could say anything, lips were pressed to his, pulling him into a gentle kiss.
Deepening it for a moment, Rodney relaxed again, letting John lead. McKay's hands slowly stroked John's back, the leather ties trailing over his bare skin.
He felt John shudder, even as he broke the kiss. "Okay?"
Rodney nodded, ducking his head into John's shoulder once again.
Lips were pressed into the side of his jaw. "Good." John shifted, pulling them both into more comfortable positions. "Go to sleep then."
Letting out a long breath, Rodney let his body relax. The cuffs around his wrists were warm, comfortable, almost feeling as if John were holding them. With the man tucked up against him, Rodney knew that he was safe.
He drifted off to sleep long before he heard John's breathing even out and woke up to the feeling of John's hands stroking his side.
"Good morning."
"Hmmm…morning."
"Sleep well?"
"Yeah. Very. You?"
"Of course." A kiss was pressed into his cheek, just below the fabric of the blindfold he was still wearing. "You were amazing last night. Was it what you were hoping for?"
"Hmm…it was…is hard to explain."
"You don't have to try. I just want to make sure you found your headspace."
"Maybe."
"Just maybe?"
"I may need another test to verify its presence."
He felt John's amusement being blown into his skin. "I think we can manage that."
"That's good to know," Rodney said, pulling John close once again.
John rolled them so Rodney was on his back, warm weight settled between his thighs. He could feel the bed being pushed down on either side of him, and guessed Sheppard was leaning on his elbows above Rodney's chest. Which meant he was staring at him.
"What?"
"What what?"
"I can feel you staring."
"You're beautiful. I can't help it."
Rodney resisted the urge to snort. "Show me?" he asked hesitantly, instead.
Kisses were ghosted along his stomach and chest. "Yes."
"Mmmmm." Rodney held onto whatever part of John he could touch, caressing his lover, the ties from the cuffs trailing along John's back.
John caught one of his hands, pressing kisses into the palm before taking each finger into his mouth in turn, sucking and licking it before releasing it with a light kiss to the tip to move on to the next.
Instead of rushing him, Rodney let Sheppard lead, loving the feeling of John's tongue and mouth on him.
When he finished with both hands, John moved on to his arms. It felt like he was leaving no patch of skin on all of Rodney's body unkissed.
Rodney felt himself sinking into the mattress, the kisses and caresses making him shiver.
John didn't stop until he had covered Rodney's body in kisses, making him turn over to focus on his back, then turning him again when he was done there. Finally, after each of Rodney's toes had been worshipped, John moved back up the bed to pull his lips—the only place ignored so far—into a long, deep kiss.
Moaning into the kiss, Rodney slid his tongue over John's, pulling the other man closer as John took the lead one again, claiming McKay's mouth.
John had worked a hand between them, lining up their bodies. He wrapped his fingers around them both and began to move his hips, rubbing their groins together using the pre-come they were both leaking as lube.
Squirming a little, Rodney bucked up against John, clutching at him a little tighter.
John wouldn't let him free though. He continued to devour Rodney's mouth as he stroked them both higher and higher.
Rodney whimpered, his hands sliding down to cup John's ass.
Finally releasing Rodney's mouth, John pushed himself up enough to get some leverage, Thrusting harder, twisting his hand along both their heads on each upstroke. "Come."
Arching his back, hands pressed against the mattress, it only took another stroke before Rodney was coming, long and hard, spilling come between them.
John followed right behind him, his warm seed spilling onto Rodney's stomach, mixing with his own. "Rodney..." His lover breathed, before collapsing down on top of him.
McKay wrapped his arms around John, breathing heavily, loving the feel of the other man on top of him, grounding him.
Slowly, Sheppard's breathing evened out. "We need to go shower and get you out of here before the patrols get here and people start waking up."
"Would rather stay here."
"I know. Me, too. But we do have day jobs."
"I like this one better."
He felt John shift, and a finger was slid just under the bottom edge of the blindfold. "We'll do this again soon."
"Not soon enough."
"We have a mission tomorrow, so we can't have sex tonight. But as soon as we get back..."
"As soon as we get back you're probably scheduling a team night."
"Those don't last all night. And abstinence for a day or two will make next time even sweeter. While the spirit is willing to fuck like bunnies all day every day, the flesh is a bit weak. And, you know, people would talk if you walked around with my dick up your ass all the time."
"Why? It's none of their business"
John laughed, tugging at the blindfold. "Just wait until I get my hands on a plug. Then I'll come deep inside you and put it in, and you can wear it all day, knowing I'm still in you and no one else knows it. Now come on, let's go get cleaned up."
Rodney squirmed at the thought of a plug, realizing how much he liked it and wanted it. He squinted up at John as he pulled off the blindfold, blinking several times to clear his eyes. "Would rather stay here. I’m comfortable," he said, a slight whine in his voice.
"You can come back. Come on." John wiggled out of his grasp and reached down, pulling Rodney up.
Scowling slightly, Rodney let himself be pulled up and towards the bathroom, John took his time unlacing the cuffs from Rodney's wrists before maneuvering the two of them into the shower.
The water was just about as hot as Rodney could stand when they ducked in together. "Turn around, lemme clean you up." John grinned.
Instead of listening, Rodney's eyebrow rose.
"Let me do this for you," he said, pausing for a minute, his voice thoughtful when he continued. "You know, I didn't think I'd ever meet anyone with a drive to match mine."
"You might be surprised," Rodney said turned as John had indicated, letting the other man soap and wash his back as his mind begun to pick up the pace. Last night had been amazing and Rodney was a little afraid of how much he liked it, wanted it. But what did it mean for them, for their relationship—both professional and personal? Would it just make things complex and uncomfortable? After a few moments of silence, he continued again. "John?
"Hmm?" John was intent on making sure he cleaned every inch of Rodney's body.
"What does this mean for us?"
The cloth stilled, and John was suddenly pressed against Rodney's back. "What does what mean?"
"What does this mean? Where is the line drawn?"
John was quiet for a moment, breathing into Rodney's neck. "This as in the dom/sub thing? Or this as in sleeping with each other in general?"
"The…dom/sub thing," Rodney said, leaning his head back a little. "I know you've said I don't have to do anything I don't want to, but what if this dom/sub thing was something I wanted to do? What would that mean for us, for work, for everything?"
In a way, he was both unnerved that John took a minute to think about it instead of answering right away, and comforted by it at the same time. "Work is the easiest, so let's start there. I don't know how to do your job, and Atlantis needs you to be you. In that situation, I don't want to be in control, and I don't think you want me to be. Now in the field when I'm acting as your team leader, that's different, but I'm not any more in control of you there than I am of Teyla or Ford."
"So that would be the same as it is now."
"Exactly. As far as I'm concerned, nothing there changes, no matter what happens between us in private."
"Okay," Rodney nodded, feeling something unclench. That was important to him because in his life, work was the only thing that ever remained a constant for him. He needed that to be his.
"Now, us and everything, those are a little harder, and I wish I had a clear answer for you." John's arms tightened around him. "All I can tell you is that we'll figure it out as we go along, and if something isn't working, we'll fix it."
"And while that might be well and good for you, I think I need a little more…structure." Rodney turned in John's arms so he could see him face to face. "What we have has been great…amazing. But I also can tell that it's costing you. I want to go into this with my eyes open, John. I need to know if you expect something from me because I don't want to screw this up. I want this and you and what we had last night."
"It's not costing me anything! If anything, I'm gaining a hell of a lot here. I never thought...when I first realized I was attracted to you, I never really thought I could have you, that we could have this."
"But you've said it yourself, you are dominant, aggressive. I can see the way you look at me, John. I can probably guess what's going through your head."
"I..." Rodney watched several emotions flicker across John's face. "Tell you what, let's get cleaned up and move this out of the shower before both of us become prunes."
"Okay," Rodney replied, nodding his head as the shower cut off a few moments later.
John was slowly toweling off, wrapping it around his waist almost absently and moving back out into the bedroom. Rodney could practically see the gears turning as he thought. "Okay, so I've haven't tried to hide how much I want you, or how...possessive? dominant? turned-on?...you make me. I can't change that about myself."
Following the other man a few paces back, Rodney finished toweling off his hair before his towel found its way around his waist. "No, you haven't hid any of that. And it's been rather…embarrassing, eye-opening…and amazing."
John flung himself on the bed, limbs splayed all over the place, one arm over his eyes. Rodney knew how bad John was at conversations like this, and he was a bit touched that Sheppard was making an effort, even though it was making him uncomfortable. "And you've already guessed that I'm holding some of it back, when I can. I know this is all new to you, and I don't want to push you away by trying to force too much too fast."
"And I appreciate it. But if we decide to move our relationship in that direction, to where you won't have to hold anything back, what do you expect of me? There has to be something, some rules, that help to keep this whole thing…stable, solid…whatever," Rodney said, his hands waving as he tried to explain, to ask the right questions.
"I don't expect anything. I don't want you to change, to become something else. I fell for you, quirks and all, not some ideal genius astrophysicist. I know we'll fight and argue and disagree, but we've been doing that for six months and look where that got us."
Rodney sighed, glancing away.
John sat up, staring at him. "What are you looking for? What do you expect?"
"I don't know. Something. Anything." Rodney moved toward the windows, looking out over the city. "I don't think there has ever been anything else that I've wanted so badly. But I'm…scared…of falling, of losing what we started."
He heard movement, and then there was a Sheppard wrapped around his back again, this time kissing his neck and shoulder lightly. "I want this too. I want what happened last night to happen again, many times. I want to take you places you never thought you could reach. But I also don't want to smother everything I lo…like so much about you."
"Do you think I'd let that happen?"
"No. But I think if I started to go that route, you would feel like you had to end it. And I don't want that to happen. That's why I'm being so careful. As I get more comfortable with what you do and don't like, I'll let go more, push you further. You asked what this, what last night, means to us. I think it means that we both enjoy it when we go into it knowing that in the bedroom, I'm in charge. How about we start there, and figure the rest out as we go?"
Rodney was quiet for a few minutes, letting John's words sink it. McKay knew he had the tendency to rush in sometimes—but so did John—but in this instance the flyboy was the one making the most amount of sense.
"Okay," he finally said, breathing out the word in a sigh.
John nibbled on his ear lobe. "But that doesn't mean I don't listen to suggestions, or if you think I'm being an idiot that you don't say something, all right? It just means that at the end of the day, we both agree that I get the final word when we're like this."
Another moment passed before Rodney responded, turning in John's arms once again, his own hands tracing over Sheppard's skin, feeling the muscles in the other man's back. He offered a crooked smile. "So does this mean I'm officially yours?"
One of the looks Rodney had seen pass over John's face before, usually quickly suppressed, was this time allowed to remain in place. "Mine. Rodney... you're mine." John leaned in to claim his mouth in a searing kiss.
McKay gave as good as he got, battling John's tongue with his own until Rodney opened up under the onslaught. His hands roamed over John's back—one dropping down to the major's ass while the other held John's head in place, fingers threaded through hair.
John groaned into Rodney's mouth, finally pulling back enough to see his face. "Mine."
And for one moment, Rodney felt his heart stop beating as the word came crashing down on him—on what it meant to him, to John—and he realized that this is exactly what he wanted, needed. "Yours," he said quietly, but his voice was firm.
"Rodney..." John looked shattered, sinking to his knees and pulling away Rodney's towel, swallowing down the erection that had sprung up at some point during the kiss. Rodney could fell him murmuring 'mine' all around his cock as he was slowly brought higher and higher.
John managed to press Rodney back against the window without letting go, giving him something to help hold himself upright. He tangled his fingers in John's hair—neither pushing nor pulling—just needing to touch his lover.
John was good at this. He brought Rodney to the edge, and then kept him there, building the pressure slowly, only to back off when Rodney started to feel his orgasm coming. Without warning, John pulled off, standing up. "Go lay on the bed, on your back, knees up. I don't want you to come until I tell you to, but if you can't wait that long, at least wait until I'm buried inside you."
"Oh, god," Rodney moaned, his knees threatening to send him to the floor. How he managed to get himself to the bed he'd never know. All he could think of was John's cock in his ass and getting it there immediately.
As soon as he was in position, John was there, two fingers, slicked up while he had been getting settled, were pushed deep inside him. "One day, we'll have done this enough that you'll be able to take me sometimes with no prep at all. I'll just pull down your pants and bury myself inside you without warning. You'll go from empty to full in a few seconds, and you'll scream as it makes you come."
"Oh…god…John," he whispered, whimpering as Sheppard's fingers brushed against his prostate, sending him higher with every stroke. Rodney wanted to wrap his hands around his own cock and jerk himself off, but instead he clenched his hands into fists, holding them down along his sides, using them for leverage as he tried to push John's fingers in deeper. "Please…more…I want you…all of you."
Rodney was left as empty as quickly as he had been filled. He watched John slowly slick himself up, stroking his long, thick length a few times. "You want it hard and fast, don't you? You want me to slam into you, make you see stars. But I'm not going to give that to you. Not yet. I'm going to move so slow you'll think you're going to lose your mind with need."
"Come on!" Rodney whined, panting from the effort at holding back. "Please…just fuck me already."
John, true to his word, inched inside slowly, stopping to pull back every few inches before starting the slow glide in again. "I'll fuck you. But first I want to claim you."
"Oh god," Rodney groaned as John slowly, ever so slowly slid in. By the time John was fully sheathed, he was begging for release, the whispered words a babble of pleas and demands that only made John smile.
"Not yet. Just take it, ride the pleasure a little while longer." John pulled out as slow as he had gone in, pushing Rodney higher and higher.
"Please…John….please" Rodney moaned, managing to get the words out between panting breaths. He shuddered as the head of John's cock brushed his prostate as he pressed in slowly.
He could feel the vibrations from John's laughter deep inside, and wow, that was new and oh dear god it felt good. Rodney felt his eyes closing as John settled in fully.
"Open your eyes and keep them open." John stilled completely, waiting for compliance. Rodney could feel the tremors, and knew how hard John was fighting to keep himself so completely in control.
"Then fuck me already!" Rodney managed to say as he wrenched his eyes open, panting and sweating and horribly hard. He continued at a much lower volume a moment later. "Please, John."
"Not yet." John began to move again, the same slow movements from before, this time his eyes holding Rodney's, not letting him look away.
Whimpering and moaning, Rodney's eyes didn't waver as John took him higher and higher until John was the only thing he could see, the only thing in his entire universe.
John finally smiled, dirty, and needy, his body dripping with sweat from the effort of going slow. The pace went from slow and languid to hard and fast between one stroke and another, leaving Rodney keening.
Every time John thrust, the head of his cock drove across Rodney's prostate, dragging a strangled yelp and moan each time.
"Come. Now."
The pressure that had been building, pooling in his groin finally let go, and Rodney was coming hard, spilling come all over his chest and stomach—and all without a single touch.
John's thrusts got more erratic as Rodney convulsed around him, and it only took a few more before he felt the heat filling him. A few more thrusts and John was leaning on top of him catching his mouth in a sloppy kiss as they both recovered. Rodney could feel his lover getting soft inside him, but John didn't show any sign of getting off in the immediate future.
"So, is this what I have to look forward to?" Rodney finally asked, post-coital and content, his hands kneading at John's ass.
"A taste of it, yes." John grinned.
Rodney sighed, content. "I might be able to handle it."
"You will." John pushed himself up on his elbows, and Rodney felt the movement in his ass. "And you're mine, remember?"
Rodney offered John a timid nod. "Hard to forget with your cock still in my ass."
John shifted again, freeing up a hand to stroke along Rodney's jaw. "Good. I don't want this just to be a passing thing." He leaned in to capture Rodney's mouth in another kiss before sitting up and pulling out. "And now I need another shower. I'll be back in a minute."
"So do I!" Rodney said with a groan as he was suddenly empty and cold.
"Yes, you probably do." John pressed another kiss into Rodney's forehead with a grin and sauntered into the bathroom.
Rodney huffed and slowly followed John into the bathroom, loving the feel of his well-fucked ass. He watched as John ducked into the water, giving Rodney a good show as he ran the soap all over his body and hair.
With his hands on his hips and drying come on his body, Rodney knew he was a sight as he stood and watched his lover. God, he was beautiful. John grinned at him and waved him to join him in the shower.
Ducking under the water as John pulled the soap out of his hands and began to wash him again, Rodney rolled his eyes, but turned, making sure John had access to all of him. "I do know how to do this myself you know."
"Yes, but if you do it, then I can't touch you. I like washing you."
"I'm not complaining, but I am curious. Why?" He moaned a little as John added some pressure to some of the muscles of his back.
"I like touching you. The sex is amazing but that doesn't have to be the only time I touch you."
Rodney turned so he was facing John again. "You've said that before."
"It's not any less true now."
"I like you touching me," Rodney said, wrapping his arms around the other man. "For me, touching has always been limited to sex or discipline. This is nice."
John ran his hands along Rodney's back. "I'll have to change that. I plan to touch you a lot, just because I can."
"I'd like that."
"Good." John pressed a wet kiss into his mouth, before pulling back. The water flicked off again as he stepped out, this time pulling on a nearby uniform after he toweled off.
Rodney watched John get dressed, admiring the long, lean lines, the muscles—all of him. Even when this began, he never could have guessed this is where they'd be, that he'd be willingly giving himself to someone else. It was scary, terrifying, and yet he couldn't be happier, more content.
When John walked back over, he had a towel and Rodney's uniform in his hands. "Since you so obligingly waited for me..." His lover grinned, and started to dress Rodney.
When John was about half-way done, Rodney pulled his lover close to him, hands holding Sheppard's face. "Thank you," he said simply before leaning in for a kiss.
"I'm the one who should be thanking you. But you're welcome." John nibbled on his lip for a moment before pulling away to finish dressing him.
It was so strange to have John doing this for him, to have someone caring for him like this. It took nearly all his concentration to stay still and pliant instead of tackling John to the bed and kissing him until Sheppard cried 'mercy'.
Tugging the last of his clothes into place, John stepped back and gave him an once-over. "I think you need to bring some clean uniforms to leave here. That way I don't have to send you off in a rumpled uniform."
Rodney nodded. "I don't have a lot of spare ones, but I'll bring what I can."
"Just one or two. I can wash the dirty ones you leave when I do mine." John stepped forward to run his thumb along Rodney's jaw. "I have to go take care of a few things this morning before I go get my ass kicked by Teyla. I've been putting her off, so I can't get out of it again. I need to go soon."
"And I have work to do. I’m a leaving a little late, though."
"There's a life signs detector in my pack in the corner. We can check the halls. But it's still early enough that there shouldn't be many people out and about yet." John leaned in to kiss him. "I wish I could claim you in front of the whole damn city. You know the only reason I'm not is DADT, right?"
"I figured," Rodney said with a half-smile as John leaned back, McKay's hands on Sheppard's hips once again. "And I can do discreet. I don't have a problem with it."
"I know. I just wish we didn't have to."
"As long as I get to have you all to myself, I don't care." Rodney pressed another kiss to John's lips, deepening it when Sheppard moaned.
"Yours. As much as you're mine."
"Good."
"All right, time to go take care of our day jobs. I'll see you later." John pulled away slowly, letting the kiss linger until they couldn't hold it any longer.
"I think I like you more than coffee right now."
Sheppard's eyes went dark with arousal. "God, okay, leave now before you can't."
"Oh, why? You don't want to explain to Elizabeth why her chief scientist is tied to your bed?"
The muscles in John's neck undulated as the other man swallowed. "Christ, Rodney. You're lucky we have a mission tomorrow, which means I can't have my way with you tonight."
"Lucky? I'm not so sure about that," Rodney commented, lips twisted in a crooked smile.
"As it is, as soon as we get back, you're getting your ass devoured. I'm going to make you wait until you're begging, crying for release." John had grabbed the LSD and thrust it in Rodney's direction.
"Are you sure we can't do that now?" Rodney asked, his eyes on the screen as he surveyed the area.
"As much as I want to, we both do have things we need to do."
Rodney sighed. "I know. Boring things. Observing stupid scientists who got their degrees from a Cracker Jack box."
"Hey, don't knock the Cracker Jacks. They had the best toys."
"And yet, none of them came complete with a doctorate in astrophysics or any other of the sciences—botany included," Rodney muttered, glancing up. "The coast is clear. I should go."
John was standing a lot closer than Rodney had realized, and claimed a quick kiss. "Go. I'll come find you later."
Nodding, Rodney handed over the LSD and hurried out the door, throwing a small smile over his shoulder before the doors slid shut. He'd only just left and he couldn't wait until the next time.
But first things first. Rodney squared his shoulders and headed for the mess. Coffee. Breakfast. And then the labs.
***
John made his way down to the gym, knowing he couldn't avoid his Athosian teammate anymore. He had already rescheduled the sparring session a few times, pleading paperwork, but he knew that wouldn't fly a third time. His brain was still full with Rodney, and what had happened between them last night. He couldn't quite process it all, and it made him half-hard when he thought too long about it.
Coming into the gym, he saw she wasn't there yet, so dropped into his series of stretches to warm up and get loose and limber enough to at least avoid some of the blows. There were so many thoughts fighting for dominance in his head, so it was nice to lose himself in the pull of muscle. Between Rodney and the growing relationship between them, and his own continuing doubts about his own abilities—both as a leader and a lover—he was the first to admit he was a bit messed up in the head.
And he had to be extremely careful to hide those doubts from Rodney. His lover was having a hard enough time figuring things out. If he knew John was struggling to find his footing, too, it might send him running. This was all still too new to take that risk.
Looking up when, halfway through his warm up, the doors opened, he privately admitted it would be good to have a physical distraction for a while. "Hey! Here as promised."
Teyla's eyebrow rose as she glided over to the bench to put her equipment down. "I feared you may cancel again this afternoon, but am pleased that you have made time for this."
He winced internally, careful to keep his face an unconcerned mask. Teyla was sharp sometimes, and he wasn't in the mood to have his thoughts and motivations dragged to the surface. Physical bruises were all he needed today, thank you. "Yeah, sorry about that. I had fallen pretty behind on all the paperwork. I needed to catch up."
"Of course. You have many responsibilities."
And oh yeah, he needed to get this conversation going another direction, fast. "Yeah, well, you know how it is. Hey, did you get Ford's email? We're trying to set up a team night for after we get back from the mission."
"I did," she said, moving into a few of her stretches. "I was surprised to see the email."
"I asked him to send it. I realized we hadn't done one in a while, and I had wanted to make them a pretty regular thing." Finishing up with his stretching, John rose, bouncing around a bit on his toes while Teyla warmed up.
"You and Doctor McKay have been spending much time together. I thought you might not wish to…interrupt that time."
After a startled moment, John remembered she knew about them. He felt a light flush creep up his neck. "You guys are all my team, not just McKay. He's one of my best friends, yes, but that doesn't mean I wanted to neglect you and Ford."
"I do not view it as neglectful," Teyla replied, flashing a knowing smile. "I believe that much time and energy must be spent early on in order to ensure lasting happiness. Do you disagree?"
John picked up his set of fighting sticks, falling into a loose stance. "Um, yeah, I guess I agree with that." Okay, this line of conversation wasn't any better than the first. Time to try something else. "I haven't been out to the mainland lately. Anything exciting happening?"
"I have not been to the mainland recently," Teyla said, finishing her last warm-up stretch before she padded over to get her fighting sticks, her workout skirt flowing with her long graceful legs. "It is nearly time for me to visit once again. Dumon promised that the remainder of the leather goods I asked for would be completed by this time."
"I don't think I've met him. What kinds of goods does he make?" John watched her warily as she began to circle him.
"He is a master craftsman and can make most anything you request." She tested his defense, the sticks coming quickly as he countered her moves before dropping back to circle once again. "I'm sure you have seen samples of his work."
Remembering the beautiful cuffs he and Rodney had made good use of just last night, John felt himself flush again, and stumbled, leaving himself open to a quick attack to his side. He managed to get his sticks up to block the follow-up move, but he could already feel a bruise forming. "Ah, um, yeah. I don't think I ever, you know, thanked you for that."
"No, you did not." She continued circling, her eyes fixed on him.
"I don't know how you knew we would, you know, enjoy something like that. But, well, yeah. Thanks. A lot. I owe you big time for those, so just name what you want. I'm already getting Carson a few boxes of that tea your people make. I swear, the man is becoming addicted." Realizing he was starting to babble, John clamped down on his lips. Seeing a possible opening, he lunged, only to be easily rebuffed.
A few swift strikes, some hitting flesh and John was scrambling backwards out of reach. "I am grateful that you are putting them to use. I have noticed that Doctor McKay has been much more focused during the day and during our training sessions."
"Who knew all Rodney needed was a way to stop thinking for a while every now and then?" John was breathing heavily now, and not just because of the effort of keeping out of striking range. "What else is new?"
Teyla twirled the sticks in her hands as she glided around the room. "I have been training many of your Marines and several scientists since we have not been engaged in off-world missions. And I am pleased to see you taking such an interest and concern in Doctor McKay's health and well-being. I feared he would become…lost within his work."
John tried to keep moving, keeping Teyla in front of him where he could watch what she was doing. "I didn't know about the scientists. Good for them. Rodney's setting a good example, showing that geeks don't have to be useless in the field, even though they aren't expected to be soldiers."
"I believe they are assured something is happening and that if Doctor McKay is training they must as well." She advanced suddenly, sticks flying, but John managed to deflect her hits.
"I hadn't...thought of it that way." John was breathing heavily now, and he reflected that this was just one more example of how he was falling down on the job. Apparently half his personnel thought he was training them because of some massive secret operation or something.
"Is there some reason why Doctor McKay asked for assistance? Does he know something that he has not shared with the general populace?" She danced out of reach as John attacked, blocking each of his blows easily before returning and pressing him back once again.
John waited to respond until she had backed off again. "Nope. Just Rodney deciding he needed to be better able to handle field work, as far as I know."
"That is commendable. I am glad you suggested it to him."
Great. Just rub in his own inadequacies. Because yes, he should have been the one to suggest it. But John knew Teyla hadn't meant it that way. "I didn't. McKay came to that conclusion on his own."
She paused, raising an eyebrow, the sweat glistening on her brow. "I had not thought he would take such initiative. You have managed to influence him greatly in a short period of time. I had thought you to be compatible, but had not anticipated how greatly you would mesh."
John took the momentary break gratefully. "I can't take credit for McKay's actions. He's a smart guy, and he sees what we face in the field. I'm just glad he decided to train up, instead of taking himself off the team completely."
"You would have insisted on that drastic a measure after the last mission? I had not considered that possibility."
"No! I would never have asked him to leave the team. He's not a warrior, but that's what you, Ford, and I are for. We're along to make sure he gets home alive. That he's taking a more active interest in protecting himself just means he buys us that much more time to get to him if something goes wrong."
Teyla's mouth twitched up in a half-smile. "I have noticed Doctor McKay's well-defined sense of self-preservation. He is, however, of much help and assistance to us in the field with or without the additional training. It is my honor to see that he is protected."
"Yeah, well, same here. That's what I'm there for." John shook himself, dropping back into defensive mode as Teyla started circling him again.
"Is it?"
"Yup. McKay handles the science stuff, Ford blows shit up when necessary, you negotiate, and I make sure everyone gets home safe. That's how it works, right?"
"You are a leader among your people," Teyla said, pushing forward once again, her sticks crashing down on his with a solid thump and whap. "You are much more than the solider you believe yourself to be."
John shook out his hand, where it was tingling from the force of the blow, quickly getting it back in place to block the next attack. "Not really."
This time when Teyla stopped dead in her tracks, John was surprised, keeping his sticks up in a defensive position just in case it was a ploy to get him to drop his guard. "Major Sheppard, why do you believe that we are here, in this place, for so long?"
"In Atlantis? I don't know, I guess because we've gotten really lucky so far." He wasn't sure where she was going with this, but he didn't really want to get hit any more than necessary.
"While I have to agree in a certain amount of fortune in regard to our missions, you are greatly underestimating your own worth to this base and to my people."
Shaking his head, John realized this conversation was going in directions he wasn't comfortable with again. "Um, sure, whatever you say." He raised his sticks again, in a silent invitation to attack.
"Are you purposely attempting to anger me, Major?"
"I don't set out to piss off the lady who is holding weapons she can kick my ass with if she wants to, no." He cocked his head, confused. "Why would you think I was trying to make you mad?"
"You refuse to see your worth to your own people, to your team, to Rodney, and to yourself. It is reckless and short-sighted."
That made him stop. "What? I'm just a pilot, Teyla. A disgraced one at that. I came into command by accident, and if we ever re-establish contact with our home world, I can pretty much guarantee you I'll be replaced faster than you can say Wraith. I do the best I can, but I know where I fit into things."
"You are a leader, Major, and that is something you can never forget. And while I still do not know much about the place you came from, I do know you and the other members of Atlantis. Do you doubt Elizabeth would fight on your behalf? That Doctor McKay and many, many others would not as well?"
He shrugged, wondering how he had managed to back himself into this little chat. "Rodney would, sure. And you and Ford, I'd like to think would put in a good word for me. Elizabeth would say nice things, but I know she'd like someone capable of going more than a few weeks without drastically going against the chain of command and disobeying orders. I'm not a leader, Teyla. You and Weir, you're the ones who do that. I just provide the muscle."
"If you were not a leader, I would not follow you, John." Her eyes flashed with determination, seriousness, and something else he couldn't place. "Keep that in mind."
"Well, I'm a team leader. And yeah, I'm the highest ranking military officer here at the moment. But I'm not a leader, not in the sense you mean. That's not why I was brought here, and not what anyone ever expected me to do."
"It does not matter why we were brought to this place, only what happens once we are here." Teyla stepped forward, clasping both of her sticks in one hand, her free hand resting on John's shoulder. "You are a leader. While you may balk at the description, at the responsibility it requires, you instill trust and confidence in others."
He tried to pull away from the touch, but was held in place. He shifted his gaze over her shoulder instead. "I appreciate the thought, I really do. But we both know I'm bad at this. Elizabeth doesn't trust me, the Marines don't like me, the science staff thinks I'm hiding something from them..."
"What makes you believe this?"
"I just..." He tried to pull away again, and suddenly found himself on his back, pinned to the floor. Having teammates who were better at hand-to-hand than you sucked sometimes.
"Doubting is what will cause people to die, Major, and I have no intention of allowing that to happen. I would return to my people first."
He closed his eyes, unable to continue to look at her. Just fucking great, now he was about to lose the single most competent member of his team. Hello, my name is John Sheppard, and I'm a royal fuck-up. He didn't know how much of his current thoughts were showing on his face, and he didn't think he wanted to know. He felt stripped bare. "I..."
"John, what must I do or say to you to make you understand?"
"I don't know." He felt raw, and he hated it. Hated being forced to examine himself too closely. "You have to understand, I wasn't supposed to even be here. I was a last minute addition to the expedition, brought along because I have a stupid gene."
"Do you resent that?"
"The military didn't want me here, and the civilians were warned about me. My career was all but over." He tried to wiggle out from under her again, to break free, but her grip tightened and he subsided.
"Warned? If I were to speak to Doctor McKay or Doctor Beckett, what would they tell me? Were they warned that you were loyal to your friends, willing to do whatever is needed to get a job accomplished, willing to be flexible when a situation called for it and immovable when it involved the lives of your team members, willing to make the difficult decisions because it was the right thing to do?"
He sucked in a breath. "They...they were all warned that I'm unpredictable, don't follow the chain of command. That I disobey orders when it suits me, and I shouldn't be trusted in positions of authority." He lapsed into the language he had memorized, the phrases used over and over all throughout his service record. "Unstable at times, and disrespectful of authority. Makes questionable decisions in combat situations..."
"Major! John!" Teyla shook him, forcing him to look at her. "Do you actually believe everything they told you?"
Licking his lips, he thought about it. "I...didn't used to. But now I'm starting to wonder if they were right. I'm getting people killed, and I nearly wiped out the city because I couldn't follow orders. It doesn't matter that we managed to avert disaster before it got that far. The fact remains that I risked everyone's lives because I always have to go my own goddamned way, and I can't seem to help it."
"And yet you saved lives. That accounts for more than you know."
"Does it? What if Rodney's plan hadn't worked and half the city was dead now because I broke quarantine?"
"Doctor Peterson would have gotten into the main section of the city with or without our intervention."
John sighed, knowing he wasn't really getting anywhere. He felt like he kept having the same conversation, and no one really understood—probably because none of them were military. "It doesn't matter. The first time I got myself into serious trouble over orders was when I tried to go in to rescue downed pilots in a combat zone, despite being told, specifically, not to. I lost yet another helicopter and..."
And this was the second time in a week he had thought about, and talked about, the situation that had led to his black mark and near disgrace. Huh. "Suffice it to say I was given what my people call a 'black mark'. Basically it means no one wanted anything to do with me. I've heard Halling mention shunning—this is the same thing."
Teyla sat back on the mat, her expression confused. "I do not understand your people," she finally said, shaking her head slowly. "However, until you can believe in your own worth I fear that you will become the person you despise. Perhaps you need to listen to those closest to you."
Sitting up, John ran a hand through his hair, focusing on a point somewhere on the far wall. "I originally joined the Air Force because I wanted to fly. That was it. It never occurred to me then that the trade off was watching people die, being told to walk away and leave them behind because someone else deemed it an 'acceptable loss.' I never wanted to be that kind of soldier, that kind of officer. I wanted to be the one who got his people out, against all the odds."
"Then perhaps you need to consider what you want and what you need. But also remember the trust and the respect we have for you." She paused, her eyes intense. "Think back to last night and the trust I am certain Rodney placed in you. This is no longer just about you."
He flinched, swallowing hard. Talk about hitting a man when he's down. "Why? Why do you trust me? Why does McKay trust me?"
Teyla reached out, placing a hand over his heart. "Because I have seen the man you are, John Sheppard. Perhaps Rodney has as well."
He closed his eyes again, trying to collect his scattered thoughts. "I can't promise I'll always make the right decisions. Most of the time I don't even know what the right decision is."
"That is what being human is."
"People expect officers—leaders—to have all the answers."
Teyla smiled sadly. "No, we do not."
He managed a shaky smile of his own. "It's funny. When you pull off the impossible and save lives, you're called a hero and people admire you. When you attempt the exact same thing and fail, they call you a fuck-up, and send you as far away as possible in an attempt to forget you exist. Atlantis—everyone here and on the mainland—are my responsibility. I have to keep you all safe."
"We are not helpless, John," Teyla said firmly. "You have merely given us hope and provided us an opportunity to fight back."
"Huh. Fighting back against the people who say it can't be done, who want to just give up, is usually what gets me into trouble."
"The Wraith give us more trouble than I imagine your people can provide."
"Nothing like a common enemy who thinks of you as a food source to make things like chain of command issues seem like a minor flaw." John's smile was a bit stronger this time. "You've given me a lot to think about."
"Good."
He shook his head wryly. "I usually do my best to avoid thinking about any of this. I guess that's why when it does come up, it hits me harder."
"Perhaps." She shrugged, rising to her feet and offering John a hand. "Or perhaps it is simply the current events and personal changes that have put you on edge."
He took the hand and got to his feet, shaking his body a bit to determine what was sore and what was still working fine. "That, too."
"John," Teyla said, stepping forward once again to grab John's shoulders, forcing him to look at her once again. "I know you do not speak of feelings, of emotions—"
He wanted to look away, but Teyla's eyes held him in place. "I'm not very good at that sort of thing."
"Do not push Rodney away."
His eyes widened. When had they gotten back to that? "I don't plan on it..."
"I know you do not plan on it, but things are new, fresh, and very fragile. You need to remember that the things you do affect him. Talk to him. Trust him. He will not steer you wrong."
"It's always easy in the beginning." He sighed. "The problem is that we're both really bad at the whole relationship thing. And he's...this is more new to him than me I think. I have to watch what I say pretty carefully. I don't mean to, but a few times I've started to make him panic..."
"You are far better at this…relationship thing than you believe. Trust yourself. Trust him." She paused, offering a small smile. "I had hoped that my gift would allow you to trust me, as well. I only wish happiness for you."
John's face got hot, and he knew he was blushing bright red. "As far as gifts go, that one was pretty spot on. And thanks. Not just for that, but for, uh, forcing me to talk about this stuff. I hate it, don't get me wrong, but I think I do feel a little better. Now if I can just keep everything on track..."
"You can," she said firmly, the teasing smile back in place as he lifted her fighting sticks. "If not, we shall be forced to have another one of these conversations."
John collected his own sticks and fell back into a defensive position. "Yeah, somehow being told to talk or have your ass kicked is a powerful motivator to spill everything."
"Did I put you in that situation?" Teyla asked, her head tilting to the side, her feet moving once again as they began circling.
He grinned. "Wasn't that what you had in mind? As much as I hate to say it, that was probably the only way I was going to admit any of that." And he was pretty sure he was going to go have a minor freak-out over just how much he had let slip when this was over, but it could wait.
"I only intended to train with you and perhaps speak as friends," she adjusted her grip and a few seconds later was advancing, John meeting her blow for blow.
John waited until she had backed off again and was circling to answer. "I'm not complaining. Okay, maybe I will later, but it will be because of the bruises, not the talking."
"Good," she smiled, spinning her sticks.
The rest of the session went as usual, with John defending himself against increasingly difficult attacks, which took all of his concentration now focused on protecting his weak spots. When they were done, he promised Teyla he would give everything a lot of thought.
In a bizarre way, it was almost nice to know there was someone who could do that to him, force confessions out of him. It made his skin crawl to know someone else had gotten so far into his head, but surprisingly, not as much as he thought it would. It was more of a reflexive reaction than any real discomfort.
And coming after that little session with Rodney last night… It was a little frightening that he was the stable one in this relationship.
With that thought it mind, he headed for the showers, then got some work done, a few of the reports he still hadn't gotten to. Glancing at his watch, he realized it was dinner time, and odds were good McKay hadn't eaten much of anything today.
Wandering down to the labs, he caught Radek's eye, and nodded at Rodney, raising an eyebrow in question. He got back an exasperated look that roughly translated to 'get him the hell out of here before I kill him please', so John moved inside. "Hey, McKay. Break time."
Rodney raised his head, spotting John, his expression going "soft" for a moment. Giving John a shy, hesitant smile, he pressed a few keys before turning to him. "Hi."
"Anywhere near a stopping point? Teyla knocked me around the gym this afternoon, and I never grabbed any food after that, so now I'm starving. Figured you could probably use some down time too, before the mission tomorrow."
"Ah…" Rodney glanced back at his laptop before nodding. "Yeah. Shouldn't be a problem." He fiddled with the computer for a few seconds before nodding again to himself. "Zelenka, I'm heading out. Try not to let your minions blow up the place."
"Why is it they are my minions when they are blowing things up and your minions when they are fixing things?" The Czech shook his head. "No, do not answer that. Go, before I am forced to take drastic measures."
John laughed, stepping aside enough for Rodney to stand up. "So, since you won't be needed back here tonight, got any good DVDs I haven't seen yet? I'm getting sick of all mine."
Rodney shot him a look as he shrugged. "I might. I thought we were talking about food."
"We are talking about food—I plan to eat before I do anything else, otherwise I may start to give serious contemplation to nibbling on my own fingers."
Rodney muttered something as they turned down the hallway leading to the transporter, stepping inside a moment later.
John raised an eyebrow as the doors closed behind them. "What was that?"
Rodney flushed, but met his eyes. "There are plenty of other things I'd rather you nibble on."
As the transporter door slid open again, John checked to make sure the hall was clear before leaning in to whisper into Rodney's ear, making a point of being breathy. "There are other things I'd rather be nibbling, too. But they'll have to wait until we get back from the mission tomorrow."
Rodney groaned, nearly stopping and pulling Sheppard back into the transporter. "Are you sure?"
"No fooling around the night before missions." John wished he could break that rule, but he had seen people get hurt or killed because they weren't at their best, and using up all your energy the night before was a good way to ensure you wouldn't be at peak performance. "But there can be DVD watching. And those screens are kinda annoying; you can't see them well unless you turn the lights down. And they are pretty small, so we'll have to sit close together to get a good view."
"Torture. Sheer torture," Rodney grumbled before leading the way into the mess, bee-lining for the food.
John chuckled, grabbing his own tray, noting a few people looking over as they entered the mess, then quickly dismissing them. "Aww, come on McKay. Back to the Future isn't that bad. Ford had his heart set on it for team night."
"Absolutely not. I will not sit through that movie again. I'm liable to poke my eyes out," McKay said without missing a beat, grabbing a tray and dumping salad onto his plate, followed by a heaping of the dinner surprise.
"It's the kid's favorite, and we haven't had team night in a while. Next time, you can pick the movie." John looked at the selection of food, and grabbed a sandwich and a bottle of water, followed by two slices of the sort-of chocolate cake he knew Rodney liked.
"The only way you're going to get me to watch that movie is if you tie me to a chair and pin my eyes open," Rodney snorted, already on the move to a nearby table. "We can find something else to watch that won't cause my brain to leak out of my ears."
"Tell you what, after dinner, you can show me what your choice for team night would be. We'll call it a pre-screening, and then I can decide which one we go with. And if it's a documentary on the theory of some obscure physics concept, forget it."
Rodney carefully settled himself in a chair, shifting a little before stilling, John sliding into the one across the table. "Do you actually think I would bring physics DVDs to another galaxy? I swear, most of the laws of physics as we know it are broken over here on a daily basis."
John had to fight the urge to smirk at the obvious difficulty Rodney was having sitting. He had to recite a few decimal places of pi to distract himself from the direction that led his thoughts. "So what did you bring? I don't think we've actually watched any of your DVDs yet, I always invite you over to see the ones I brought."
"I've seen all of mine far too many times," McKay admitted, his attention fixed firmly on his food.
John started on his sandwich, trying to figure out what Rodney might have brought. "So have I, but that doesn't stop me from watching them again. Come on, McKay. Spill."
"You're going to laugh."
Pausing with his food halfway to his mouth, John raised an eyebrow. "Okay, I won't promise not to, but I'll do my best. Now you have me curious."
"Baywatch."
John choked on dinner. When he finally got his breath again, he looked at Rodney incredulously. "Did I just hear you say you brought Baywatch with you?"
McKay's face was red. "There's lots of blondes."
"You've been holding out on me! And what do you mean blondes?" John blinked a few times, trying to process this new information.
"Blondes. You know. Leggy ones with big…" His hands paused mid-gesture. "I also have Knight Rider and the Dukes of Hazzard."
John opened his mouth a few times before closing it again, finding himself speechless. "You have..." Scarfing down the last of his dinner John stood up and dragged Rodney up with him. "I can't believe you didn't tell me you had Dukes of Hazzard! And Knight Rider! Oh my god we are going to your room right now and getting at least a season in tonight."
"You never asked!"
"I shouldn't have to!" John was dragging McKay out of the mess, ignoring the looks people were shooting them. "Baywatch and Knight Rider are the kinds of shows you're just supposed to share with your best friend!"
Once they were in the transporter, Rodney turned to John, his hand pointing. "You just made a scene. You know that, don't you?"
John grinned at him. "For DVDs. Everyone now expects me to be in your room all night tonight watching your collection. So I don't have to sneak out at o-dark-thirty."
"Yes, and that's all well and good but we're not going to be doing anything," McKay said, nearly pouting.
"We'll be watching Knight Rider! And making out. Because making out to cheesy 80s sitcoms just rocks. I think I may love you." John was out of the transporter before McKay could respond, only turning back when he realized Rodney wasn't right next to him. "Coming?"
Rodney stepped out of the transport, moving slowly. "Did Teyla hit you on your head today a little harder than normal?"
"She got me a few times on my sides. I have some nasty bruises. Why?" John bounced on his toes a little, resisting the urge to drag Rodney along. Knight Rider!
"Are you sure we shouldn't be visiting Carson or something? You're not acting…normal."
Rolling his eyes, John took Rodney's elbow and propelled him along. "I'm fine. I haven't seen Knight Rider in years. I used to pretend I had a Kitt of my own when I was a kid, and I wanted to grow up to be Michael Knight."
McKay shook his head, allowing John to walk him down the hall to his room.
When they got there, John bounced on the bed, grinning happily. "While you're getting that set up, what was with the blonde comment? Got a thing for blondes?"
"The whole mooning over Colonel Carter wasn't a clue?" Rodney asked, digging in his closet and emerging with a CD sleeve. He pulled out a disc and paused, leaving the sleeve on the corner of his desk. "I've always had a thing for leggy blondes."
"Huh. I just figured it was because she was hot and smart." John ran a hand through his own dark hair. "You don't mind leggy dark-haired men, do you?"
Rodney scowled at him across the room. "After last night you have to ask that?"
"Just checking." John waved at the laptop. "Come on. Put it on and come over here so we can make out to the sound of a talking car. God that was so cool when I was twelve."
"And you still are," McKay grumbled, picking up his laptop and heading over to the bed. "And you don't have a problem with the whole…bi thing, do you?"
Raising an eyebrow, John couldn't help but grin. "You did catch back before we started this me admitting I hadn't wanted a guy in a long time, right? Since I tend to avoid farm animals and aliens, that pretty much leaves women. Hell, I was married at one point. So no, I have no problems with the bi thing."
"Married? Huh," Rodney said, handing John the laptop as he settled onto the bed, leaning his back against the wall after shoving a pillow behind him.
"I really sucked at it." John put an arm around Rodney so they could sit comfortably and still see the screen. "I was always either out on assignment or on base. And she hated being a military wife, with all the politics and shit that goes along with it. All told, we were married for a year, but I think we were only actually together for maybe a month or two of that."
"Huh," Rodney said, sliding the DVD in as he shifted, settling half on John and half on the pillow. "You know this is going to suck, don't you?"
"It's Knight Rider! How can it possibly suck? Unless you mean me sucking on you, which is entirely possible." John let his hand come to rest on Rodney's hip.
"Oh?" Rodney turned, his face inches from John's. "I thought we had rules."
Leaning in, John sucked in Rodney's bottom lip for a second before letting go. "We do. No sex. But that doesn't mean we can't fool around."
"And where's the fun in that?"
"That's lots of fun." Using his nose to push Rodney's head to the side, John kissed his way into the crook of his lover's neck where he could breathe in Eau de McKay. "And we have cheesy 80s sitcom to watch. Start the DVD."
"If you would move maybe I could actually operate the laptop," Rodney complained, but made no move to actually try to reach for the computer.
John huffed a laugh into Rodney's skin and then pulled back. "Better?"
"If we actually want to watch the DVD, yes. If we would rather do something else, no." Rodney sighed, his eyes lingering on John's lips for a long moment before he turned to the computer, queuing up the program and getting the first episode of season one—a double—playing on the screen.
John bounced on the bed as the familiar theme music came up. "God, this is awesome. I can't believe you've been holding out on me. After we get through this, Dukes of Hazzard is next."
"And for the record, you never asked."
"Knight Rider! That's the kind of thing you should have made public knowledge!" John paused, making a face. "On second thought, no, you're right, it's better this way. If everyone knew, I'd have to get on a waiting list. This way, I can watch it with you whenever I want."
"Although I think all of Atlantis knows by now," McKay complained with a huff. "Could you have been any louder in the mess?"
Running his free hand through his hair, John shot him a sheepish look. "Sorry about that. I might have gotten a little excited."
"A little? I'm almost convinced that you like the DVDs better than me."
Grabbing Rodney's chin, John claimed his mouth in an all-out assault, not letting up until he felt Rodney melting into his side. "Hardly. But if I can't have sex, watching Knight Rider and making out is the next best thing."
Rodney panted as he leaned his forehead against John's. "You know you're going to have to do something to help me out before the night is up, right?"
"Maybe." John teased. "I could be persuaded to jerk you off before I go back to my room."
"You are evil," Rodney growled, leaning in to press tentative kisses against John's lips before adding more pressure.
"Mmmmm." John flicked out his tongue, dragging it along the seam of Rodney's mouth. "We need to turn on the DVDs if we have any hope of sticking to the rules."
"Maybe," McKay whispered, opening his mouth just wide enough to let John's tongue slide in.
By the time they stopped kissing again, John was a bit uncomfortable in the lower regions. "God, you're like one of those sirens in the old stories—always tempting a man to physical pleasure. Heaven help me if you ever actually decide to use your powers for evil."
"Who says I'm not?" Rodney smiled into John's lips, refusing to move more than a few centimeters away.
Groaning, John licked at Rodney's lips again. "And you call me evil."
"But you love it."
"Yes." John closed his eyes, tasting Rodney's breath as he talked. It was amazing how erotic just kissing could be. John had to admit he was fast moving past uncomfortable and into 'need to come now' territory.
"So why are you complaining?"
"It sounds like you are," Rodney said, tilting his head so he could kiss John again.
"Just..." John let himself get lost in another kiss, this time letting Rodney take control. When they surfaced again, he found himself partly pushed onto his back, Rodney's body covering his. "What were we talking about?"
"Hmm…don't know."
"Laptop. We were going to watch DVDs." John tilted his head to give Rodney access as the other man started working his way down John's neck.
"This is more fun."
"We can't…can't have...can't have sex. Mission tomorrow." John was struggling to keep his concentration, but he couldn't bring himself to push Rodney away. His lover didn't often take the lead, and damn that felt good.
"You were the one who dragged me out of the mess and into my room," Rodney said into John's neck, pausing long enough to shove the shirt aside so he could lick and nip at Sheppard's collarbone.
His hips pushed up involuntarily, and John moaned, panting now. "I really did want to watch...Knight Rider... oh God..."
McKay chuckled into his skin. "More fun."
"I can't argue with you there." John pushed himself further into the bed, letting Rodney play. When the other man reached his nipples, John found himself holding his breath.
McKay leaned back, contemplating John's chest for a moment before lowering his head, mouthing Sheppard's nipples through his black t-shirt, wetting the fabric as he teased and tongued the small nub.
"Oh!" John arched into it, body tingling with pleasure. "Rodney! Oh... oh fuck..."
Rodney moved to the other once John was squirming and moaning, repeating the process until he finally leaned back, a smug smile on his face as he stared at the two very wet patches on John's chest. "So, DVDs?"
Every time he moved John could feel the wet fabric rubbing against him, sending jolts through him every time. All he could do was try to stay still and pant, in a vain attempt to get control again. "You... Oh fuck you really are evil... Rodney..."
"Yes, John?"
He knew what Rodney was doing. It would have to be John who decided to break the no sex rule, and McKay wasn't called a genius for nothing. Tempting fucker. "Put on the damn DVDs."
"It's been on," Rodney said, smirking.
"Evil."
"Whatever you say."
"I'm going to have to go use your bathroom to take care of this little problem you've created."
"No."
"No?"
Rodney shifted and John could feel an equally hard erection pressing into him. "No."
John pressed his hips up again, deepening the contact and making them both whimper. "I think I may have made a tactical error."
"You may have."
"I underestimated the abilities of my opponent." John pulled until Rodney was completely on top of him, their groins rubbing together through cloth.
"Oh…damn…" Rodney said, burying his head in John's shoulder as he moaned.
Rolling them, John settled Rodney against his side, arms wrapped around him, legs keeping him pinned. "As much as I want this, we can't. Not before a mission."
"And I can't stay like this."
Putting his cheek against Rodney's hair, John took deep breaths. He moved one hand to Rodney's back, where he started rubbing soothing circles, trying to calm his lover down. "Close your eyes and try to relax."
Rodney thrust his hips upward, the small movement setting John on edge. "There's a much quicker way to fix this."
"No. I might not always like it, but I made the no-sex-before-missions rule for a reason. If we could stop at mutual hand-jobs, that would be one thing. But I'm going to want to fuck you, and I need you to be able to perform at peak condition off-world. You can't do that if your ass is sore, or you're stiff because I've had you tied down and spent hours keeping you on the edge of orgasm. Now just hold still for a minute and try to relax."
"John…come on. A quick hand-job is not going to kill us," Rodney whined, trying to get his hands free.
Tightening his grip, John let a hint of steel creep into his voice. "No. I don't want there to be many hard rules between us Rodney, but that's one I won't budge on."
Rodney's eyes narrowed, but he finally nodded. "Fine."
"It's for the best." John nuzzled Rodney's neck.
"Fine," he said again with a huff. Rodney stretched his neck a little, giving John more room to play, moaning and squirming at the touch.
John gentled his kisses, knowing he needed to find a way to cool them both down. He shifted his grip so as to completely immobilize McKay. "Stop moving."
Rodney groaned, but stilled under Sheppard. "John—"
"Shhh. Stay still, and no talking for a minute. Close your eyes and take deep breaths. I won't get you off, but I won't leave you hurting either."
"There's only one way to fix—"
"No talking." John would have put a hand over Rodney's mouth, but he didn't want to lose his grip on his lover's wrists. It was more important that he stay still right now.
Rodney sighed, mouth a thin line. It took a long moment before McKay finally closed his eyes and John could feel his lover's body slowly relaxing as the breathing and lack of sensation and movement helped to ease him back down.
Taking his own advice, John closed his eyes and walked himself backwards. Being military, there were definitely times when a hard-on was inappropriate, but adrenaline didn't always pick a good time or place. He had learned to ease himself back out of self-defense. When he finally opened his own eyes, no longer edgy and uncomfortable, Rodney was staring at him.
The man raised an eyebrow, but held his tongue.
"Feeling any better?" He knew he had told Rodney not to talk, but he at least wanted a nod or something to confirm his lover wasn't painfully uncomfortable any more.
Rodney opened his mouth to reply before shutting it quickly, nodding instead.
Smiling, John pressed a light kiss into the side of his mouth. He released Rodney's wrists and got them situated more comfortably, Rodney's body held snugly against his own—McKay's back to his chest. He had grabbed the laptop as they moved, and settled it so they could both watch. He decided to let the quiet order stand—Rodney could use the downtime, and this was the best he could do before a mission.
Tightening his arms briefly around Rodney, they settled back to watch the DVD. McKay settled in quickly—his head leaning back against John's chest, his hands covering John's, fingers absently stroking skin.
They got through three episodes before John knew they needed to call it a night and get some sleep. He moved one hand off Rodney's stomach to push stop on the player. "Time to call it a night."
Rodney didn't reply and when John looked down, he realized the other man was fast asleep.
A fond smile crinkling his face, John very carefully untangled himself from Rodney, setting the laptop on the desk where it wouldn't get kicked and setting the alarm to give his lover time to shower and dress in the morning. He carefully stripped Rodney down to his boxers, getting him arranged comfortably. Pressing a kiss into Rodney's forehead, John straightened to leave. "Good night, Rodney."
"John?" The sleepy question stopped him.
"Go back to sleep. I'm heading back to my room to do the same."
"Mmm…'kay." Rodney shifted, his eyes closing once again.
John resisted the urge to go back and curl his body around Rodney's. Slipping out, he waved to a Marine walking by, striking up a discussion on the early years of Knight Rider versus the later seasons, and promising when he was done watching, he would try to convince Rodney to loan them out. Finally, he made his way back to his room, where he quickly stripped and fell into bed. All in all, it had been an interesting day.
***
If this mission got any more boring, Rodney swore he'd find a spork and stab himself with it—many times—just as a reminder to never assign himself another mission like this one.
And things had been going so well.
As frustrated as he'd been earlier in the evening with the whole situation, John had managed to do exactly what he said he would, forcing him to calm down, to rest.
Rodney had actually been surprised to find that he'd fallen asleep sometime in the middle of "Deadly Maneuvers" and then slept so soundly through the night, waking up to the alarm clock.
But right now, he'd give his right arm to find something—anything—worthwhile.
Sheppard walked over from wherever he had been, doing perimeter runs or something, with Teyla negotiating with their hosts and Ford keeping an eye out. "Hey. Didn't your mother ever tell you not to make faces like that? It could stick that way."
"I am so bored I'm actually considering injuring myself so we could go home," Rodney hissed, crossing his arms over his chest. "If I only had a spork…"
Above the Aviator sunglasses John always wore off-world, Rodney saw an eyebrow go up. "Do I even want to ask?"
"I don't think I can come up with a more horrible way to die right now than sporking myself." Rodney sighed, running a hand over his face. "Are we anywhere near done?"
Since Ford was close enough to hear what was going on, when John tapped his radio, he called for he Lieutenant's attention rather than distract Teyla. "Any sign of wrapping this up soon? McKay is threatening to break out the sporks."
Rodney tapped on his radio so he could hear the conversation. It was something to do. "…that I made sure his pack was spork-free before we left. And I'll try to get Teyla's attention."
"If you can interrupt without pissing anyone off, feel free. There has to be some sort of happy medium between missions where people want to kill us, and missions where we want to kill ourselves. Sheppard out."
Sighing, McKay tapped his radio off, moving toward a grove of trees at the edge of the village. "I'm going to…" He waved his hand, indicating the benches.
"Stay in sight. Maybe you could check the instruments again. They could have been malfunctioning when they gave negative readings."
"I'm not going far," Rodney snipped, turning back around to Sheppard. "And re-calibrating them for the third time will not make a difference. They are just slightly above the hunting and gathering stage."
John just shrugged. "So we wait. They might be less advanced, but they do seem to have a surplus of crops. If they're willing to trade, a little boredom will have been worth it." They had been fed several dishes when they first arrived, and Rodney had seen John make his 'oh my god that's good' face usually only seen during sex when he had tasted one in particular.
"I know, I know." Rodney glanced over at Ford again, only to see the lieutenant and Teyla walking toward them. "Oh god, please tell me you're done."
Ford grinned. "Spork impulses getting greater, Doc?"
"I'm losing valuable brain cells and contemplating my own demise through the use of one of the world's biggest joke for an eating utensil, what do you think?"
Teyla did her head-tilt thing. "What is a...spork?"
"Never mind,” Rodney said, waving her off. "We can leave?"
She gave him a confused look, but answered his second question. "Yes, I believe we are done. The Yeltans are most pleased with the idea of trade, and they have much surplus food. Usually they take it to markets on other worlds to trade, but this will save them the time and effort, and they are most excited to receive the medical training and supplies we offer in exchange. It will be an excellent trade."
"And no need to sacrifice the smart one?"
Her lips twitched as she glanced at him. "They require no rituals or sacrifices, no. Merely that we bring the goods we intend to trade with them through the gate at the appointed time, where they will have the things we requested waiting for us."
Rodney turned to Sheppard as he bounced on his feet. "See. That's how things are supposed to be done. We should make Teyla do all our negotiating."
The eyebrow appeared above the sunglasses again. "Teyla does do all our negotiating."
"No, I distinctly remember the last time we did this," Rodney said as Sheppard lead the way back to the gate—a five-minute walk along a well-maintained path. "You were the one negotiating."
Ford sniggered in the background, and he caught the edge of an eye roll from Teyla. "Hey now! I was part of the negotiations then, sure, and I took a more active interest later in the session, but I still let Teyla do the talking. Not only is she better at it than any of us, she'd kick our collective asses if we didn't let her." John tossed an impudent grin in Teyla's direction.
Rodney rolled his eyes letting the silence fall over the team as they approached the gate, Ford dialing home while John and Teyla kept an eye on the perimeter. The gate flashed to life a moment later and Ford sent through his code.
"Colonel Sheppard?" Weir's voice sounded over the radios.
"Present and accounted for. We're coming in with a good trade deal brokered by Teyla, and the only problem we encountered was McKay contemplating death by spork out of boredom. We clear to come through?"
"Actually, John, I need Rodney to go to M5H 7K8. Shafer has run into a little snag," Weir began, only to be cut off by McKay.
"What do you mean snag? It's an uninhabited planet and they hadn't found anything!"
"Can we come through and get briefed, or do you need us to head straight there?" John cut him off.
"Shafer would be the best one to brief you," Weir said with a sigh. "It might be easier for you to go directly."
Exchanging another look with the team, including Rodney, John finally nodded. "All right. We'll check in once we arrive there and assess the situation. Sheppard out." After the wormhole disengaged, John nodded to Rodney to dial the new coordinates. "At least she didn't sound panicked. Hopefully this is nothing major."
"Anytime you're told not to go home but to go somewhere else immediately, you know it's bad." Rodney tried to sort through the data he'd read, but nothing jumped out at him—which made him worry. What had he missed? Pressing the globe in the center, the wormhole whooshed out a second later and John tapped his radio.
"Hollister, this is Sheppard. My team was diverted to your planet and I need to know what we're walking into before we step through the gate? Should we expect a hostile welcome?"
"Sir, Doctor Shafer here," the man said, his voice going across all the radios. "Hollister is trapped with the rest of them, but the area's clear."
"Trapped?" John's voice had slipped into the tone Rodney knew he only used when his people were in danger. "We're coming through the gate now. Be prepared to brief us as soon as we're through."
"Thank you, sir," Shafer said, his voice weary.
"Sheppard out. We'll be there in a minute." John looked around at the team. "All right, I'm taking point. Ford, you're behind me, then Rodney, and Teyla has our six. I have no idea what we're walking in to, so everyone stay alert."
"My team is trapped, not captive," Rodney said, pushing forward only to be hauled back by John.
"But why are they trapped? How did it happen? Why can't they get out? Why is Shafer free? Why did he say 'but the area is clear' implying it might not have been earlier... We don't know the situation, Rodney. Once we're through and have been briefed, if all it is a collapsed mine shaft or something you can do your thing, but let's make sure it's safe first."
Ford was already moving past them, pausing just before the event horizon, waiting for Sheppard's go ahead. "Fine," McKay said, yanking his arm away from Sheppard. "Can we just go already so we can figure out what they managed to screw up?"
With a quick nod, John got confirmation from the other two before disappearing through the gate, Ford right behind him.
Rodney stepped through with Teyla at his side, walking directly toward Shafer once he was on the other side as Ford and Sheppard did their military thing. "What the hell happened?"
Shafer ran a hand through his hair, making the already-disheveled man look even more ragged. "We found the underground complex you thought might exist, found the entrance and were exploring it, moving from room to room with the military men clearing us to move on. We were taking a break and I headed back out to check in with Atlantis and report our progress. When I got outside, there was a…a beeping noise, and behind me doors started locking. Our radio communications only work in fits and starts, and only when I've been as far in as I can get now. They can't get out, and I can't get to them."
"The entire team is trapped in there?" Rodney was incredulous. "What happened to leaving someone on the surface to make sure big scary aliens don't kill you?"
"About half the Marines were going ahead of us, while the other half came after us. They aren't all trapped in the same room. There was one guy standing guard in each of the rooms leading out until the last one, which is the first one I'm locked out of. He's the only one I can get a clear radio signal from. For the most part, we've been running relays on the transmissions from person to person, since when we try it direct we seem to be losing about half the words."
Rodney shook his head. "Show me what you found."
John was watching, and Rodney saw him give quiet orders to Teyla and Ford before falling into step next to McKay and Shafer.
"Your men are idiots."
John glanced at him. "I'll have to reserve judgment on that until I know if, and how badly, they broke protocols."
"All eight of them are trapped in an underground complex and one of my scientists is outside calling it in. You tell me." Rodney's mind was already running ahead of him, trying to come up with situations and scenarios.
He heard John sigh. "Yeah, my preliminary assessment is that my men were idiots."
"Since when does it take eight of them to keep track of six scientists?"
"I have every intention of asking them that as soon as you get them free. Shafer, how deep is Hollister? Can I talk to him once we're inside the complex?"
"I haven't been able to figure that out yet," Shafer admitted. "Thompson is the one just on the other side of the first door."
John nodded to himself. "He's one of the less antagonistic of the bunch I sent. No offense, Doc, but this was supposed to be an easy mission to teach everyone how to get along with each other. Not a get-everyone-trapped-in-an-underground-maze kind of mission."
"None taken, Major. The reasoning was explained to me in some detail and I appreciate having someone watching my ass for a change."
"So what exactly were you discovering before the complex went into lock down. I'm going to assume that might have something to do with it." Although John seemed to be asking relaxed questions, Rodney heard the edge of something else in it.
"That's the thing. We weren't doing anything other than looking around. Everyone was under strict orders to 'look, don't touch' until we could get an idea of what this place was used for and how big it was."
"Apparently someone touched," Rodney grumbled, ducking under a low overhang as they descended into a cave that quickly turned into a hallway.
They came to a halt outside a faintly glowing blue door. John was immediately hitting his radio. "Thompson, this is Sheppard. Report."
"Sir? Major Sheppard?"
"My team was called in to get you out Captain. And I'm hoping you have a damn good reason for why Shafer—one of the science team—was the only one clear of this complex when it shut down."
"They wanted the complex cleared so they could work. Captain Hollister thought it would be easier to have everyone check it out before they got started."
Sheppard rolled his eyes. "And it never occurred to the Captain to leave a few men outside to stand guard? Never mind, don't answer that. I've got McKay with me, and he'll have you guys out as soon as possible, but why don't you give him a run-down of what happened, and how everyone's doing?"
"We're all fine, just trapped in various rooms along the way. Hollister is the furthest out with Watson—one of the geologists."
Sheppard, who had taken off the sunglasses, glanced over at Rodney, one eyebrow raised in question. "What do you need to get to work breaking them out?"
"If I knew that, don't you think I'd be doing that already?" Rodney shook his head. "Thompson, what was everyone doing when the complex locked down?"
"Mostly resting, sir." The soldier responded after a heartbeat. "We were taking a break while Doctor Shafer checked in with Atlantis. There are four of us stationed in rooms spaced out as you move further into the complex, and four soldiers, along with five more scientists stuck in three rooms at the furthest point we had explored. To be honest, sir, I've been here in this room standing guard for most of the day, so I don't know what happened further in."
"Very helpful, Captain," Rodney said rolling his eyes. He gestured to a small alcove that housed what looked like computer equipment. "Why don't you talk to your men, Major, and I'll be over here with Shafer trying to figure this out?"
John nodded. "Keep me posted. Ford and Teyla are taking a look around topside, so if you need anything, let me know and I'll have them go back to the gate to request it from Atlantis. Unless there's a real emergency, they won't be coming down here." The implied 'we won't make the same mistake twice' hung in the air as John looked at the locked door pointedly.
"I’m glad at least one military grunt knows how to use the few brain cells they were born with."
"Glad to be of service, McKay." John was rolling his eyes, but had moved to lean against the doorframe to the entrance, where he could keep an eye on things but be out of the way.
Rodney turned back to Shafer as they headed across the room, McKay pulling his tablet PC out of his pack. "Have you tried to interface with the system at all?" he asked, digging out cables as well.
"A bit, but not much. My main computer is in the room with Watson and Captain Hollister. I wasn't expecting to be gone long, or to be locked out. As soon as I realized what had happened, I went back to the gate to request help."
"So you went exploring before you even tried to get into the system to try and figure out what you were walking into?"
Shafer flushed. "We did access the console up here, but it didn't have much information. Mostly just a map of the complex, with a version of the life signs detectors built in. It seemed to indicate there was more information in rooms further into the complex, so I decided to check it out."
"And I thought you knew better," Rodney said, finding a spot to hook his tablet into. Attaching the cables, he booted up the laptop, waiting a few moments for it to recognize the mainframe he was attached to.
"We checked out as much as we could here, McKay. To get any additional information we had to access the consoles in the deeper rooms. There seems to be one in every other room, and they have progressively more interesting information. I only did what you would have—checked each one to verify what was on it, then moved to examine the next. I figured once the complex was cleared, I could determine which rooms had the most relevant information and start with those."
Finally finding the mainframe, Rodney navigated into it, surprised to find the contents in Ancient. He glanced up, eyes narrowed at Shafer. "It's in Ancient."
Shafer was fidgeting and looking over his shoulder, obviously missing his own computer. "What do you know? And all this time I thought it was in Russian. This is an Ancient outpost, McKay, what did you expect?"
"The energy signature wasn't Ancient."
"It looks Ancient."
"The equipment or the energy signature?"
Shafer waved his hand in a circle. "All of it. The architecture, the consoles, the technology. The energy signature was a bit off, I'll give you that, but everything else—including the language everything's written in—is Ancient."
"And that doesn't mean anything, Shafer. You of all people should know that." Rodney drilled down deeper into the computer system, his fingers tapping at the touch screen to get into the main files. His eyes widened when he finally got to the information he needed. Rodney could feel his face paling. "Oh no."
***
John had been leaning against the wall, mind only half on the snark going on between Rodney and his subordinate. As far as emergencies went, this one didn't seem all too bad, just a bunch of people stuck in rooms. He was snapped back to attention, however, by Rodney's 'oh no'. "McKay?"
"This is bad."
John pushed off from the wall and was next to the scientists, although the screen didn't give him anything he could recognize. "What is it? Rodney?"
McKay held up the screen, tilting it for John to see. "Notice the big flashing symbols? That's bad."
John tried not to let his frustration show. "I don't read Ancient. Rodney, what the hell is going on, and how do we fix it?"
"I don't know how to fix it yet, but I do know we have to get that door open now—and I don't care how. And I need Simpson and Adams here now."
"I'll have Ford run back to the gate. What else do you need?" John decided to cut his losses. Rodney only got like this when things were really serious, and he could get answers later.
"A time machine and scientists who actually know what they're doing." The last bit was aimed directly at the scowling Shafer.
John stepped far enough out to contact Ford and give him Rodney's request, so he didn't hear Shafer's response. When he got back, he eyed the door. "You said you need it open. I have some C4 on me—will that work?"
Rodney paused for a moment before nodding. "If you can get a concentrated and precise blast do it. It'll get Thompson out at least—even though I think he's the safest one of the bunch."
"Safest? Rodney are my people and your scientists in trouble? And if so, why and how much?" As he asked, John started getting the C4 set, wishing he had sent Teyla to the gate and not Ford, since the Lieutenant was a lot more of an explosives expert than John was.
"If poisoned gas is on your list of 'things are just fine' then I need to re-think some things," Rodney grumbled, fingers flying over the tablet's screen. "We have less than two hours to get everyone out."
"Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. I'm blowing this door now." John tapped his radio on, eyeing the C4 he had set, and placing the charge. "Thompson, get as far back from this door as you can, and if there's anything to take cover behind, do it. I'm about to blow the door."
"Sir?" Thompson's voice was unsteady.
"Get back, Thompson. Give me the all-clear when you're as protected as you can get yourself." John looked over at Rodney and Shafer. "You two, wait around the corner while I blow this. I don't want to risk injuries when I don't have to. You can come back as soon as the charge is clear."
Rodney and Shafer nodded, already on the move. Once they were in place, John turned back to the door and his C4.
"Thompson? Are you clear?" John had his finger on the detonator, the need to get his people out almost suffocating.
"As clear as I can be," Thompson replied a beat later.
"Then detonation in three, two, one..." John pushed the button, ducking around the corner as smoke and debris filled the room. When he poked his head back around, the door was gone, and John was through it almost immediately. "Thompson?"
He heard coughing a moment later and spotted a crouched figure in the corner furthest from the door. "Here…sir."
John was at his side, getting an arm under his shoulder and getting the man on his feet. "Let's get you outside. I'm going to radio for a full medical team, so you can wait there for them. Rodney," John raised his voice, taking in the only other exit to the room. When his geek poked a head in, geek2 right behind him, John nodded at it. "Can you see if there's another way to get these open other than explosives? I'm getting Thompson up to the surface, then I'll be right back."
"What else do you think we're going to be doing, macramé?"
"Be right back then." John pulled the dazed captain out of the complex, a bit relieved when the other man seemed to get a little stronger as they hit fresh air. John hit his radio again. "Ford, request a full medical team be sent through along with the scientists. Teyla, I need you here at the entrance. As I get to people, I'm going to pull them back to here, and I want someone keeping an eye on them until Beckett's people get here."
"Will do, sir," Ford replied as Teyla appeared a moment later stepping out of the tree line.
"What do you require?"
"Just keep an eye on him and keep watch. There's apparently poisoned gas being released into the air down there, so Rodney thinks the people we pull out will be progressively worse off. I'm going back down now. Give me any C4 you have on you." John stripped Thompson of the explosives the soldier had strapped to his tack vest, accepting Teyla's as well. "I'll keep you updated."
Rodney glanced up as soon as John stepped into the room. "And that C4 trick isn't going to work again I don't think."
"Damn it. Doors reinforced?" John moved next to him, narrowing his eyes at the door.
"Along with major support structures. We can't take the risk of bringing it all down on top of us." Rodney tapped at his screen and John realized Shafer was not around.
"Where's Shafer? And what about more targeted blasts?"
"He's going through the blueprints of the facility on the mainframe—the alcove we were in before. And I don't think so." Rodney glanced up, his eyes wide and on the edge of panic. "This is so not good."
John kneeled down next to him. "If anyone can get them out, you can. Tell me what I can do to help."
"I don't know yet." Rodney tapped at the screen. "I still haven't made heads or tails of anything."
"A med team and the people you requested are on their way. Is this place like Atlantis? Maybe I can tap into it like I do the systems there?"
"No, not that I can determine—although I've been here all of ten minutes. It may look Ancient and speak Ancient, but it's not Ancient."
John felt a cold rush run up his spine. "It doesn't look Wraith..."
"It's not. I have no idea what it is, but I think Shafer managed to trip a burglar alarm of sorts. I don't know how or why or what the trigger was, but I’m working at it."
Swallowing hard, John tried not to think of the implications of that. Right now he had to focus on getting his people out. "I'll give you fifteen minutes, then I think we're going to have to risk more C4."
"And bring the ceiling down on us? I don't think so."
"It's a last resort, and you and everyone else will wait outside while I blow the charge. Hopefully it won't come to that though." John stood, putting one hand on Rodney's shoulder and squeezing. "I'm going up where I can get radio communications to check in. I'll be right back."
Rodney nodded, still intent on the little screen and the data scrolling across it.
John checked in, glad to hear the requested personnel were through the gate an on their way. When he made it back downstairs, he found Rodney and Shafer huddled around the door. "Any progress?"
McKay glanced up, his face paler than it was before. "We can't turn the system off without the command codes—which we don't have. But I have figured out how to unlock and open this door."
"Do it then. I'm going to try to use the radio relay system to warn everyone to breathe shallowly and through cloth if they can. It might not do anything, but it can't hurt."
"But there is one problem."
John tried not to sigh. "Oh?"
"We can't override all the doors at once," Shafer replied. "It has to be done one at a time. And as the gas becomes more wide-spread, we risk contaminating the outer rooms that are clear if we leave the last door open."
"Fuck." John rapidly calculated their options. "Do both of you need to be there for every door? Can you switch off, while the others wait in the fresh air to recover?"
"We need two computers hooked into the system, so until I get one from one of the other scientists, we're dead in the water," Rodney replied. "And I’m guessing you didn't ask them to bring Hazmat gear."
"I told them what we were dealing with, so while I didn't request it specifically, let's hope Elizabeth was thinking ahead." John paced the floor. "We can't close off doors behind you. If we do that, even when we get to rooms with people, it won't make any difference, since we'll have to override in reverse to get them out and that will take too long."
"And then you risk contaminating the cave and the clearing just beyond. We have to close the last door."
"I'll have everyone move away from the clearing. Worry about getting our people out, we can come in with full hazmat later if necessary to decontaminate the facilities."
"Shafer," Rodney said, turning to the other scientist. "Run up and grab Simpson and her computer. We need to get you hooked into the system up here."
The other scientist nodded and was out the door in a flash. John held Rodney's eyes, waiting for whatever the man was going to say next.
"We might not be able to get to all of them."
"We will."
"Time is not exactly in our favor."
"I don't leave people behind. We'll get them free. The ones in the furthest rooms might be a little worse for wear, but we will get to them."
Rodney's lips thinned as he turned back to his tablet. "Shafer is going to act as the system admin, approving the release of the doors and locking them in the open position."
Glancing at the door, John moved close to Rodney, putting one hand on his shoulder. "We can do this, Rodney. I'll be here, and as you get to the people, I'll pull them out to safety."
"I…" Rodney finally nodded. John heard movement a moment later.
"Sirs," Simpson said, poking her head in. "Shafer explained the process. Doctor Beckett kept him topside. I’m going to tie into the system now. Give me two minutes."
John nodded at her. "The next room should have some of our missing personnel, if what Thompson told me is accurate. I'm not getting anything on the radios. Move as fast as you can."
"And get Adams down here. I'll need him to act as a relay," Rodney said, already working at the door's override.
A moment later, Simpson's voice came over the radio. "I'm in. The system is picking up your tampering."
"I can't help it."
"It's going to initiate the next protocol if you trip it."
"I won't trip it."
"What's the next protocol?" John was feeling more than a little helpless as he waited for the door to open. If Thompson were right, there would be six more rooms with three more Marines, before they should hit the room with the bulk of the science team, as well as three more Marines. Then a soldier and a scientist one room out from that.
"We don't want to be around for that," Rodney commented quietly.
"Then I guess it's a good thing you aren't going to trip it."
"That is the plan."
John continued to pace as Rodney and Simpson worked on the doors. When it finally slid open, he was through the opening immediately, looking around and spotting the soldier lying near the door. He wasted no time getting the man onto his shoulders in a rough fireman's carry, heading out. He paused only long enough to catch Rodney's eye as the scientist started for the next door. "I'll be right back."
Rodney nodded, his face tight and pinched.
John made his way back up to the surface, giving orders for everyone to move back, and carefully giving the soldier on his back—Miller—over to Carson's care. "They'll likely get worse as we go, and as the gas moves further into the system."
"Worse? Tell Rodney to hurry. And the hazmat suits are on their way."
"Good. Let me know as soon as we get them. I want to get McKay and Simpson into them ASAP." John rose and started back for the complex.
He found Simpson and Rodney arguing—through Adams.
"What the hell is going on here?"
"Tell Simpson to stop fiddling with the systems."
"I thought fiddling with the systems is why you brought her here." John started working his way through the rooms back to where Rodney was.
"I brought her here to play network admin," McKay replied over the radio. "Every time she fiddles I have to start from scratch."
"Then tell her to stop. Your people don't listen to me, Rodney." John finally rounded a corner to find Rodney kneeling next to yet another door. It looked like he had gotten through the next empty one, and was working on another one with a soldier in it. "Beckett said the hazmat suits are on their way. I should hopefully have one for you when I get back from bringing the next guy to the surface."
"Fine, fine," Rodney said, the words ending with a cough. "Simpson thinks she can turn off the gas, but I don't want to risk her locking down the entire system."
John felt a stab of concern. After the trapped people, Rodney was spending the most time in the highest concentration of gas. "Why don't you switch with Adams or Simpson for a few minutes? I don't want you getting sick, and I need you thinking clearly if the doors get harder to crack as we get further in."
"I can hack the fastest," Rodney replied. "Trust me, I'd rather be out there."
John bit back the retort he wanted to make. He wanted to order Rodney to trade, if only for a few minutes, but he had promised he wouldn't let their 'thing' effect work. So he held his tongue—for the moment. With any luck, there would be a hazmat suit in McKay's near future. "How is it coming?"
"I think I've gotten this door." He tapped his radio. "Adams, have Simpson—"
"She's on it."
"Good."
A moment later the doors parted and Rodney was already unhooking his equipment moving in deeper as John went to the soldier.
Jackson was completely unconscious, although still breathing. John got her lifted and spared another glance full of concern for Rodney. "The hazmats should be here. I'll bring you one down when I come back."
"Fine, fine," Rodney replied, his concentration fully on the computer.
John dragged the soldier up, glad Jackson was a slight woman, instead of a two-hundred fifty pound bruiser like Thompson had been. He acknowledged to himself that the gas was starting to affect him, too. When he reached the surface, Carson and Ford were waiting to take his burden and give him three suits. "This all we could get?"
"More are coming. These were the closest," Carson replied.
"Good." John didn't hesitate, grabbing them and heading back down. For now, they would go to the three who weren't getting any breaks. Stopping to give Adams and Simpson the gear and telling them to get suited up before doing anything else, he headed back to Rodney yet again.
Only to be stopped by a closed door.
"Oh no." He hit his radio. "McKay. Open this god damned door now. I have a hazmat for you."
"In a few minutes. And get off the radio. I’m trying to work."
"Why did you close the door? Open it now."
"Trying to keep Simpson and Adams clear-headed. And you're distracting me."
"Sir?" Adams appeared at his side.
John spared him a glance, glad at least someone was following orders and he was suited up. "What?" John kicked the door, frustrated beyond belief.
"He's gotten through two more doors."
"God damn it! Rodney! Let me the hell in to get our people out of there and get you suited up."
Rodney didn't answer.
Shit. Oh motherfucking shit. "Adams, open this door now."
"I can't, sir. And he might be out of range."
"I don't care. If you can't hack this door in five minutes, I'm using the C4." John was vaguely aware that his fear and adrenaline was making him breathe harder, taking in more gas. He was getting woozy, which just increased his fear for Rodney, adding to a vicious cycle.
Adams looked at him with wide eyes, but unhooked his tablet and attached the cables to the wall. Simpson's voice came over the radio a minute later.
"He's through another door. Two more."
"Fucker. Get me in there now. Not only is McKay risking his own goddamned neck, he's preventing me from getting our people out."
"He is working faster than he was before," Simpson said quietly.
"I. Don't. Care. Adams?"
"I'm working on it."
"Sir?" Simpson was at his side, offering her suit. "You're going to need the rescue team suited up. It won't be much longer."
John blinked. "Aren't you supposed to be up in the first room controlling things? And good call, go up and get Ford, Teyla, and anyone else who can be spared to get these people out. And get that suit back on."
"I’m fine out there. The gas isn't reaching me. But I do need to get back to the console."
"Go then, and get the rescue people down here. Give them the suit." John barked it as an order, most of his attention on Adams. "You've got thirty seconds before I break out the C4."
"Sir," Simpson said, not moving. "You need to get suited up and you need to get the rescue teams. We have to work and make sure you have people to rescue."
"McKay doesn't have a suit, and I'm not budging until you get me in there to head up with some of our personnel. You need to get back to work to get them out."
"Sir, the longer you argue with me, the longer it's going to take Adams."
Jesus Christ, no wonder Rodney was always pissy. His staff couldn't even follow simple orders. John grabbed the suit out of her hands and glared. "Go. Now. Stop arguing with me and get these people out. I want this door opened ASAP."
She nodded, already running back toward the first room they'd entered. A beat later and he heard her over the radio. "He has one more door left. Sir, you need to get the rescue teams in place."
John had dropped the suit, and was staring at the door, and Adams, impatiently. "Relay my orders to the surface Simpson. You're close enough that it should carry through, and I'm not wasting the time to walk up there back when I plan to start pulling people out as soon as this fucking door is open."
"Adams! Careful!" Simpson's voice was edged with panic.
John looked at the scientist next to him sharply. "Don't blow us up, all right?"
"I have no plans to, sir," Adams replied, sweat on his brow. "It's the flesh-eating acid that I'm not fond of."
"Yeah, that would suck too. Just open the door. I don't need a bonus prize behind it." John was getting impatient, Rodney hadn't been kidding when he said he was a faster hacker.
"Okay, the outer door should be opening now," Simpson said as it slid open, Adams slumping back against the wall. "And the rescue teams are on the way."
"Good." John grabbed both suits and jumped through the door, blanching at the number of people in need. He dropped one suit next to the soldier in the closest room, and made his way back to find Rodney and give him the second one. The air was thick, and John wondered idly if he shouldn't have been stubborn and impatient and put on the suit Simpson had given him. "Adams, grab Ulysses and start pulling him towards the surface."
"And Simpson said the last door is open," Adams said as he hefted Ulysses up, Ford and Teyla appearing a moment later with a handful of Marines behind.
John stumbled back to find Rodney passed out on the floor next to the last door. With a heartfelt curse, he got his hands under the other man's armpits and started to drag him out, suit dropped and forgotten at this point. "Everyone grab whoever's closest and let's get these people out ASAP!"
He heard a chorus of "Aye, sirs" and everyone was on the move, dragging the unconscious expedition members with them.
As soon as they hit the surface, John handed Rodney over to a waiting nurse, and turned to go back down for the last of their people, slumping a little as the world spun around him.
Carson was at his side a moment later. "Hang on there, laddie."
"We've still got four people down there. I need to go back for them." John was a bit surprised to hear his words slurring, but he didn't stop moving back towards the complex entrance.
"And they're already heading back down."
He was almost to the entrance, when arms grabbed him from both sides—Carson on one and Teyla on the other. "Lemme go. I still have people down there."
"They are being attended to," Teyla replied, her voice as hard as her grip.
"I don't leave people behind."
"You're not. Your men are getting them now. They'll be out in a minute." Beckett tugged him back toward the triage area.
John felt like someone had doused his brain with oil—every time he tried to grab at a thought, it slipped out of his grasp. Letting himself be led in a daze, he did finally manage to hold on to one thought, however. "Rodney?"
"Is in very capable hands," Beckett replied evenly, slowly. John found himself sitting down on the ground a moment later, a penlight flashing in his eyes. "Major, can you tell me what you're feeling?"
John had to blink a few times, tried to make sense of the words. "Beckett?"
"John," Carson said, hands on his face. "I need you to stay with me."
John tried to focus, he really did, but it was steadily getting harder. He found himself starting to drift, his eyes getting heavy. "Tired."
"Major! John! Damn it all to hell…Angela, I need you here now!"
The world seemed to be getting heavy, and John found himself leaning forward, held up only by strong hands. He closed his eyes, just wanting to sleep, but even as he did, he was aware that this was wrong, and he tried to fight against it, to stay awake.
"We've got you, Major."
"Okay." That reassurance was all he needed, so John let go, and sank into the welcoming darkness.
***
When John Sheppard slowly collapsed, Carson knew he had a real problem on his hands. They had too many people unconscious, and he needed to get them all to the infirmary stat. Over the radio, he arranged for three jumpers to come retrieve the patients and personnel, which he was now waiting for.
In the meantime, he grabbed the people from the rescue party and put them to work. "Aiden, Teyla, since Major Sheppard and Rodney were the least exposed, I'd like to have you keep an eye on them. Angela will tell you what to look for. I need to go tend to those exposed longer."
"Not a problem, Doc," Ford said immediately, Teyla nodding as well. "Just tell us what do to."
"We're looking for signs of distress, respiratory difficulties, that sort of thing. Angela, luv, given them a quick run-down of what to keep an eye out for, and then I need you on some of the worst cases as well."
"I will. Go, Carson. I'll take care of this and follow you in a minute."
He nodded, then moved on, working quickly, coordinating who was taking care of which patients, taking on the longest-exposed himself. When the jumpers arrived, they brought even more help, and everyone was quickly sorted and transported back.
It was a few hours of work, some of it touch and go—they had three heart failures and five cases of respiratory failure—before they finally got everyone into more or less stable condition. But they hadn't lost anyone, which made all the hard work worth it.
He made the rounds, checking on patients, when he came to the last of the bunch—John and Rodney. The rest of their team were sitting nearby, keeping an eye out, and Carson saw Elizabeth heading his way as well.
"Carson," she said once she reached him, her face showing her concern and worry. "How is everyone?"
He gave her a tired smile. "The most critical of cases just hit a turning point. Doctor Watson and Captain Hollister were exposed the longest and to the highest concentration of the gas which, from what we can tell, got thicker and more toxic the further into the complex you went. But everyone is sleeping peacefully now, and should make a full recovery in time."
"Good," she smiled, nodding her head as her eyes drifted to John and Rodney. "And how are they doing?"
He glanced at the sleeping forms on the beds next to them. Like all the patients who were affected, he had them on mild sedatives to ensure they slept, giving their bodies time to recover. "Of the people who were noticeably effected to this degree, these two were exposed the least amount of time. I'll wake them up first tomorrow, and probably release them fairly soon. They'll probably have sore throats, and feel a bit weak, but compared to some of the worse cases, they're going to get off light."
"Good, good. Do we even know what happened out there?" Her eyes drifted around the room including both Teyla and Ford in the question. "Robert Shafer was a little…scattered when it came to his report."
It was Teyla who spoke up. "Major Sheppard gave me updates every time he came to the surface as to what Rodney was discovering, and what he could get from Doctor Shafer. It seems the building was neither of the Ancestors nor Wraith, but because it very closely resembled an outpost of the Ancestors, including using their language, the original team moved deeper to explore, thinking they could take time to delve into the systems once they had cleared the complex. Doctor McKay believed they triggered some kind of alarm system, which caused the lock-down and the gas."
"They tripped a burglar alarm?"
Ford nodded. "It seems so, ma'am. From what I could gather from the updates, that was only the first stage. Major Sheppard mentioned that Doctor McKay had to move slowly to avoid tripping further security measures, although I don't recall hearing what those would be. Doctors Simpson or Adams were working with him, though, and could probably brief you on that end of things."
"I plan to ask them as soon as you clear them," Elizabeth said, glancing back at Carson. "I didn't think they'd been injured."
Carson shook his head, jumping back into the conversation from where he had been checking the vitals of their heads of military and science. "They both had some exposure, but for the most part they remained in the upper levels where the gas was thinner. They were also using the hazmat suits once they arrived. However, just to be on the safe side, I'm holding them here overnight along with everyone else who got a lungful of the air in the complex."
Elizabeth nodded, lips thinning as she pressed them together. "Good work, everyone. I'll follow up with you tomorrow for another report."
"Aye. If you wait until after I've woken them up, these two should be fine to give you their version of events. After that, I'd recommend putting them on medical leave for twenty-four hours."
She nodded again. "Consider it done." She paused again, her eyes fixed on John and Rodney for a long moment before turning and heading back through the infirmary, walking past the full medical ward.
Carson turned his attention to the remaining half of Atlantis' most injury-prone team. "And the two of you need to get some sleep as well."
"We are…not tired," Teyla said smoothly. "It may be beneficial for you to use this time to get some rest."
He shook his head, a tired grin on his face. These four were a bad influence on each other, cheeky buggers. "I intend to go get some rest as soon as I've checked in with my staff. And you lot had a full mission, and then a rescue, so you can either go back to your quarters to get some sleep peacefully, or I'll have you tossed out. You can come back in the morning as I'm bringing John and Rodney down off the sedatives."
Ford and Teyla exchanged a long look before they slid out of the chairs they were occupying. "Very well," Teyla replied, inclining her head toward Carson. "We shall return in the morning."
He watched them to make sure they left and then went to track down Doctor Biro, who was heading the night shift. "Lindsay, I'm heading out to get some rest, but I'll be back in the morning before we start waking our people up. I've sent the rest of Major Sheppard's team off to bed, so if you see them again before me, you have my permission to hoist them out on their petards. Do you need anything else before I go, lass?"
"No, I think everything's under control. We're watching Hollister and Watson carefully to make sure there are no complications, but everyone else is looking good," Biro replied. "I've bulked up the night staff to help keep an eye on things. Figured you wouldn't mind."
"Perfect, and thank you. If there are any major problems overnight, have me paged. Otherwise, I'll see you bright and early when I come to relieve you."
"I'm sure I will."
Carson made his way quickly back to his room, where he got comfortable and fell into bed, falling asleep quickly. He didn't know how long he was out before the radio he had left in his ear chirped at him. "Wha?" S'Carson."
"Sorry to wake you, Doctor Beckett." Biro's voice was loud in his ear. "Major Sheppard has been having some difficulties and we can't seem to get him to calm."
Shaking off sleep, Carson was already up and moving. "I'm on my way. What kind of difficulties?"
"Restless. Seems he's fighting the sedative and I'm reluctant to give him more."
"No, don't give him anything else until I get there. It was one of the most mild we have, but I don't want to sedate him any more than necessary." Carson was out the door and heading to the infirmary in record time. "Define restless for me, luv, so I know what I'm walking in to."
"Restless," she repeated, her voice holding a hint of annoyance.
Rolling his eyes, Carson figured he would be there in a minute anyway. "All right, I'm almost there. Beckett out." Rounding the corner, he found the major thrashing a bit, face pulled into a grimace. Lindsay and two of the nurses were doing their best to hold him down without injuring him.
"Bloody hell," Carson said, racing closer. "We're going to have to wake him. Can you give me—"
"Already prepped," Biro said.
Carson rolled his eyes. "Then let's give it to him already and get this over with."
They injected the drug into Sheppard's system, and after a few minutes, he began to moan softly, obviously getting pulled further into his nightmare as his brain became more active, his thrashing getting stronger.
"Bloody hell, Major," Beckett said leaning down and shaking him hard. "Snap out of it. You're having a bloody nightmare." He glanced up at Biro. "Is it all in?"
She nodded, opening her mouth to speak, even as John sat straight up, eyes wide and afraid, expression vulnerable, which Carson knew the major would never show ordinarily. He was still caught between the waking world and whatever his mind was conjuring up for him.
"Everyone out! Now." Carson steadied John as Biro and the two nurses filed out. He knew the major wouldn't appreciate an audience for this. "John. John, wake up. You're safe. You're in the infirmary. I need you to wake up for me."
Blinking several times, John sucked in a few deep breaths, eyes still wide. "C..Carson? Where...?"
"You're safe. You're in the Atlantis infirmary."
John's whole body shuddered. "Rodney?"
"Is right next to you. He's still sleeping." Beckett put his hands on John's face and turned him toward the other bed. "See. He's resting."
He could feel the tremors still running through John's lean frame. "Not real. It wasn't real."
"What wasn't real?"
The soldier closed his eyes and started shaking again, wrapping his arms around himself. He was still obviously having trouble separating himself from whatever he had been dreaming.
"John, I know you're a little out-of-sorts, but you are fine. You're safe and so is Rodney. I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong." Carson tried to keep his voice calm and level. He didn’t want to start him panicking again.
"Wraith. They were in Atlantis, feeding. Everyone was dead. Watched Rodney die. I had to leave him, couldn't help him..."
"There's no Wraith here. Just us. And Rodney's fine. And you know I won't lie to you."
"So real. God, it felt so real. More real that when I saw Mitch... I saw it Carson. It didn't feel like a dream." John seemed to be getting slightly more coherent, but he still looked a bit wild and oddly fragile.
"Aye. Dreams like that can be terrifying. But you're here now and you're okay."
"Helpless. I was so god damned helpless. I couldn't get to Rodney, couldn't save him, and I watched him die. I knew you, and Ford, Teyla, everyone was dying all around the city. I was always too late."
"You weren't this time. Everyone got out. Everyone's fine." Carson was rubbing John's back in an effort to get him to calm down, to shake off his nightmare.
John's eyes snapped up. "Hollister? Watson? The rest of the team? They got out, they're okay?"
"They're all fine. We're keeping a close eye on them to make sure they stay that way."
"Oh, thank god." John slumped forward, the tremors gradually decreasing.
Carson waited a minute for John to collect himself. "And how are you doing, lad?"
John snorted. "You mean other than having fucking nightmares in the middle of the infirmary and nearly giving myself a nervous breakdown?"
"Aye, apart from that," Carson replied, offering a smile. "After that little rescue, you're allowed."
John's face clouded again. "How close were we?"
"Close. If Rodney hadn't closed the doors we would have had more people in the infirmary."
Several emotions flickered across the soldier's face. Sheppard, who was normally so closed, apparently still hadn't recovered enough to get his usual iron control back in place. "At least everyone's alive. I suppose at the end of the day, that's what really matters."
"Aye, it does. How are you feeling?"
"Sore. My throat hurts, and my head still feels like it's been packed with wool. That's better than the oil feeling though."
Carson's eyebrow rose. "Oil feeling?"
"I remember feeling like my thoughts were all coated in something, and I couldn't get a hand on them. They just kept slipping away." John made a face. "And I don't even know if I really remember that, or if it was another dream. After I got Rodney out, everything gets a little fuzzy."
"Once everyone else wakes up I'll be able to confirm if they felt the same thing. It's a wonder that Rodney was able to do what he did if that's what he was experiencing."
"It happened pretty fast. I was feeling weak, and a little disoriented for a while, but when I finally started slipping, it seemed to happen all at once. Since I don't remember getting back, I'm going to assume I passed out too? Maybe that oil feeling happens right before unconsciousness."
"Aye, right in my arms. You were'na exactly up to following doctor's orders at the time." Carson offered a teasing smile as he patted John's arm. "Do you need anything?"
John shook his head and grimaced slightly. "I don't suppose I can have something for this headache?"
"Aye, I can do that right quick. You should have said something before." Carson moved to leave the small private area he'd put John and Rodney in, but paused at Sheppard's voice.
"Carson?"
"Aye?"
John flushed bright red. "I, ah, don't have to get any more sleep tonight, do I? I'll stay here if you want me to, but..."
"Aye, I want you to and you do need the sleep, lad. I gave you a wee something to kick you out of your nightmare and I'd rather you were somewhere we can keep an eye on you." Carson checked his watch before looking back at John. "It's already 0500, so it won't be much longer until I try to bring Rodney around."
"I'm...not that tired anymore. After I take the pain meds, I'm sure you need to, you know, go back to bed or something. But I'd rather just wait for everyone to wake up."
"At this point, I'm up. A panicked call in the middle of the night will do that to you." Carson patted John's arm. "I'll be right back."
John looked sheepish. "Sorry about that. And yeah, this headache is getting worse." He winced as Carson pulled back a curtain and a sliver of brighter light shone in.
"I'll be right back." Carson ducked out, making sure to pull the curtain back, heading for the dispensary. Grabbing a few packets of pills and water, he talked with Biro briefly, giving her an update. When he returned, he found Sheppard sitting next to Rodney's bed, staring down at him. "John?"
"Hmm?" Sheppard didn't look up.
"You should be in bed."
"I needed to see he was okay."
"Did you think I would lie to you, lad?" Carson kept his voice low, calm as he stepped up beside John.
"No. I just...he locked the door. I couldn't get to him, and when Adams finally got it open, I found Rodney passed out against a wall. What if I hadn't started Adams working on the door sooner? We could have lost him along with the other nine people still trapped."
"Rodney knew what he was doing."
"That doesn't make it any easier. I'm the one who's supposed to take the risks, not him."
"All of us take risks, John."
John looked up, frustrated. "But in the field, the military is supposed to be here to protect the science and medical staff, get them home safe since they're the ones running the show. I'm here to protect you, but I was locked outside a door twiddling my thumbs while Rodney risked his life."
"He was protecting the other members of his team. You can't fault him for that."
John ran a hand through his hair, then held it out for the pills Carson was still holding. "No. I can't. But again, it doesn't make it any easier to deal with."
"No," Carson said, shaking his head. "It never does when it's someone you care about."
Swallowing the pills, John allowed Carson to lead him back to his own bed. "I feel like shit. Did I mention that? I have no idea whether it was the gas or whatever you had to give me later, but if possible I'm feeling worse now than when I first woke up."
"Worse? How?"
"Well, the headache, which is getting worse by the minute. And the aches. I was a little sore when I woke up, like I had exercised a little too hard, but now I just ache all over. And I think I might be a little nauseous."
"Do ye need a basin?"
"No. I don't actually want to lose my lunch. Just queasy I guess. Although all bets are off if you want me to try eating anything."
"I'll give you something to help with that. Right now, just lay back and relax."
"All right." John was looking a little pained, and closed his eyes. Carson saw the measured breaths he was taking, knowing the solider was attempting to push down the problems.
Making a decision, Carson moved a small basin next to the bed and patted John's arm. "If you need to heave, there's a basin next to you. I'll be back in a moment."
"Great. Please tell me this is just a bad reaction to whatever you gave me to wake me up."
"I don't know yet, lad. I certainly hope so." Carson moved out, grabbing Biro. "We might have a problem."
"Oh?" She came to immediate attention. "What happened?"
"Major Sheppard is suffering from some general flu-like symptoms, but he's also nauseous and has an increasingly painful headache. I’m grabbing something for him to try and keep the nausea at bay."
She blinked. "That doesn't sound right. We didn't give him anything that should have had that reaction. I checked his chart before I pulled anything, and you've used it on him before with no problems."
"Aye. I know. It might be a side-effect of whatever they were gassed with, but for our sakes I certainly hope not."
She nodded. "I'll run through and check our sleepers, see if any of them are exhibiting any unusual vitals before we start rousing them."
"Good. Let me get back to the major." Carson grabbed the injection he needed and rushed back to the private area. Thankfully John was still on his back and the basin was empty. "How are you holding out?"
At some point the major had flung an arm over his eyes. "Shitty."
"Aye. This should help the queasiness." A quick injection later and Carson disposed of the needle, patting John's arm. "Now, close your eyes and rest. I'll be in the infirmary, so if you want anything, use the buzzer. There's water on the table as well."
"I don't have to sleep, though, right?" John moved his arm enough to peer at Carson, eyes squinted.
"I'd rather you did and the injection might make you drowsy, but no, you don't have to."
"'Kay. So is this drugs, or the gas?"
Carson sighed. "We're not sure, but we think it might be the gas."
"Shit. So everyone else will be experiencing this too? And since I'm the first awake, does that mean I'm the guinea pig?"
"That's a likely possibility, aye. Rest."
His patient started to chuckle, then curled in on himself coughing. "Ow. Don't make me laugh."
"Rest, John. Let us take care of you and make sure you're right as rain."
"Don't have much choice, do I? But thanks. Get us healthy, Doc, so we can go out and get our asses kicked around some more." John shot him a weak grin.
"If I had a choice…" Carson shook his head. "Rest. I'll be back to check on you later."
"I know. And seriously, thanks." John shifted so his arm was over his eyes again, his chest rising and falling in the same measured pattern he had used earlier.
"You're welcome," Carson said, waiting and watching for a few more minutes before moving on. He had to prep the staff for what might be a very bad morning.
***
Rodney woke suddenly, head lurching forward as consciousness decided to reacquaint itself with his body between one heartbeat and the next.
"Wha—" he started to say, but a groan interrupted him as pain flashed through his head, making him drop his head back against the pillow.
"Welcome back to the land of the living, Rodney." A distinctively accented voice hovered somewhere above him.
"Oh, god. Kill me now, please."
He felt a prick in his arm. "Give that a moment to take effect. We finally hit on a combination that takes care of the worst of the symptoms, so you should start to feel better shortly."
"I don't think it's possible to feel worse," Rodney commented, trying to curl up as a pain shot through his stomach.
"I know, lad. Major Sheppard woke up first and experienced most of symptoms we've been seeing from everyone else as they wake up. He agreed to be my little lab rat, so you're getting drugs that have been tested and approved to take away the worst of the headache and queasiness. Just give it about ten minutes to kick in."
"If I don't die first."
He felt a light pat on his arm. "Just lie back and try not to move too much for the next few minutes. As soon as you're feeling a bit better, there are a few people waiting to see you."
"'Kay."
He heard Carson move away, and other than a brief flare of light and sound as the doctor presumably opened a door or curtain, he was left in relative peace for a while.
Rodney tried not to pay attention to the pain in his head or his gut, but it was hard not too. There was nothing else to do right now. He groaned into the pillow, pulling his arms a little tighter around his body as he tried to ride out the nausea.
He hated this.
He heard a quiet footstep, and then a light touch on his lower back, rubbing small circles. He felt the bed dip slightly as another body settled on it.
Rodney tried to roll over, but the hand wouldn't let him move, continuing to stroke and rub his back. No one else's touch felt like that. "John?"
"Yes. Just relax and let the drugs kick in. They'll help."
"What happened?"
"You did it. You got everyone out. This is the last of the poison gas working its way through your system. You were down there long enough that when I got to you, you were already unconscious."
"Sorry."
"You did a good job. Scared the hell out of me, but you got all the doors unlocked, and everyone's going to be fine." John's voice was pitched low, soothing.
"Was trying to work fast," Rodney muttered. "Knew I didn't have a lot of time."
"I know. And Carson said if you hadn't closed the door behind you, more people would have been affected. I was pissed you had locked me out—and apparently Adams gave Simpson a real scare when he was overriding it after we lost touch with you—but I understood why you did it."
Rodney groaned, curling a little tighter. "This sucks—and not in a good way."
"I know."
"Why couldn't I just sleep through it?"
"You did sleep through the worst of it, from what we can tell. This is just the tail end. But I promise, as soon as Carson's drugs kick in, it gets a lot better."
"That's not particularly comforting," Rodney said. A moment later he sighed as John's hand slid under his scrub top, touching skin.
"Why don't I try for comfort this way then?" He felt the bed move as John shifted, and then warm lips were pressed to his forehead. "Carson is keeping everyone away until your headache goes away."
Rodney immediately tensed. "We're still in the infirmary, John. Anyone can walk in."
"I know." Another kiss was pressed into his skin. "We aren't going to do anything here. I'm going for comfort, remember?"
"And you're going to explain that to Biro how exactly when she waltz's in?"
"You're my teammate, and Carson gave me permission to sit with you as long as I didn't upset you. Considering he had to fend off Teyla and Ford from doing the same—we drew straws but I rigged it so I'd win—I don't think anyone will question me being in here."
Rodney rolled Sheppard's words over in his head before he felt his body relaxing against the mattress. "I just don't want to have any problems, that's all."
"There won't be. Stop worrying, and try to relax so the drugs can kick in." John was still rubbing circles on Rodney's back under his shirt, fingers pressing every now and then to force a tight muscle to loosen.
Sighing again, Rodney rolled a little so he was almost on his stomach, giving John more access to his back.
The movements slowly turned from just rubbing for comfort to more of a back rub—and John had very clever fingers. Before Rodney realized what was happening, his body had relaxed, the headache and unsettled stomach seeming to ease off as it did.
"Mmmm," Rodney hummed.
"How's he doin'?" came Carson's quiet brogue a few minutes later.
"Relaxing. We should have put masseuse on the roster when the personnel for the expedition was decided on. His back is one giant mass of tension."
"Does'na surprise me," Carson tutted. "There are a few of my orderlies who can do a right good massage if he needs one, but we donna have the right equipment."
"Yeah, I've been trying to work some of it out whenever I can get him to sit still long enough. He really needs it on a regular basis though, for it to do any lasting good."
"Aye. But it takes quiet a bit to tie him down in one place and keep him there for any length of time."
Rodney heard John chuckle. "Now there's a thought. I could tie him to the bed for a forced massage three times a week. If nothing else, it would be less back problems, which means he'll be in better shape both in the lab and in the field."
"Actually, if it would help, it might not be a bad idea," Carson commented.
"You do know that 'he' is awake," Rodney grumbled, but didn't move. He was far too comfortable and John wasn't stopping.
Another chuckle. "But you aren't really objecting, are you?"
"I'm not answering in fear of incriminating myself in some way," Rodney muttered.
John pushed on a particularly knotted muscle, forcing it to release and sending a wave of non-pain through Rodney, making him groan a little at how good it felt. "I think it's too late for that."
"Can I go home?"
Firm fingers wrapped around his wrist, and a quick check revealed it was Carson. "Aye, soon. I want to keep an eye on you for a little bit to make sure the poison is out of your system and you don't have any negative reactions to the antidote I gave you. But assuming there are no complications, you'll be free to leave by this afternoon."
"Good," Rodney sighed as John continued to unknot his muscles. "My bed is a lot more comfortable."
"I'll say." John's tone carried just a hint of naughty.
Rodney snorted as Carson chuckled lightly. "Well, I'll leave you two for a bit. Make sure you call me if he has any complaints."
"I will. I'm sure Teyla and Ford are still lurking around out there. You up for more guests Rodney?" John pulled his hands away, and Rodney felt him slip off the bed.
"Would rather have you massaging my back."
"Later, I promise." John ran a hand through Rodney's hair, trailing fingers down his jaw as far as he could. "But for now, there are some people who were pretty anxious to check on you. Not to mention, Elizabeth wants both of us for a debrief as soon as you're up to it."
Rodney sighed, turning over with John helping him so he didn't roll off the bed. He was still a little queasy, but the pain had gotten a lot better. He finally opened his eyes, looking up into Sheppard's concerned ones. "I think I might live."
"Good to hear." John leaned in, planting a sweet kiss on his lips. "Then get settled while I get the rest of the team."
"Wait," Rodney said, managing to snag John's arm. "Are you okay?"
A shadow passed over John's face for a minute. "The drugs and gas managed to give me a pretty vivid nightmare Carson had to rouse me from with drugs, but other than that, and feeling how you do now for a while this morning, I'm fine."
Rodney tugged him down once again, kissing him gently, letting John deepen it. When the other man finally pulled back, they were both panting a little. "I'm okay, John."
"Tonight. I'm staying with you."
"John—"
"I need it, Rodney. Please." John's fingers tightened around Rodney's wrists slightly, and there was an edge of desperation to his words.
"I wasn't going to tell you 'no'," Rodney said quietly, holding John's eyes, trying to let him know that he was okay and that everything was going to be fine. "Depending upon what you have in mind, however, you might have to do the planning."
John leaned in to kiss him again, lingering before pulling away. "I'll take care of it. It took me about five hours from when I started feeling sick until I was released. It's 1000 now, so if you hold to the same pattern, Carson should release you around 1500. We have to brief Elizabeth, but after that we're on medical leave for the next twenty-four hours."
"We are?"
"Yeah. Carson wants us to rest up before jumping back into things."
"He wants everyone to rest, not just us."
"Yes. Although everyone else not released yet was exposed a lot longer. They'll probably have to stay in the infirmary at least another day, some longer." John ran a thumb across Rodney's mouth, pushing it between his lips slightly, not quite far enough to prevent talk, but enough to feel it.
Rodney closed his eyes, enjoying the touch of John's finger on his lips before he opened his mouth a little, letting it slide inside, his tongue brushing against the tip.
John slid it in and out a few times, not letting Rodney take it too deeply.
When John paused, Rodney opened his eyes, looking up at Sheppard, an eyebrow raised, his tongue still playing with John's thumb.
"Tonight." John pulled his thumb away slowly, eyes not leaving Rodney's as he did.
"As long as I'm not dead."
"You won't be." John sat in the chair nearby, propping his feet up on the end of the bed as Carson returned, Teyla and Ford right behind him. "Hey guys."
"It seems you both are feeling better," Teyla said glancing between the two of them.
"You sure look better—no offense, sirs," Ford added a beat later.
John grinned. "I was released about ten minutes before Rodney woke up. I'm just here for moral support now."
"It's not like I need you to hold my hand while I puke, Major," Rodney snipped, rolling his eyes.
"Fine then, I won't distract the nurses while you try to make a break for it."
"I know better than you, Sheppard. I'm not leaving until Carson gives me the heave-ho. Some of us know better."
"Are ye still feeling nauseous?"
"Not as much, no."
"Good. I want to keep you a few hours to make sure you're better and then you're on medical leave for the next twenty-four hours. Elizabeth's already okayed it," Carson said, adding the last bit when he saw Rodney's face.
"Come on, McKay, the break won't hurt you." John leaned over to poke Rodney's leg. "I'll even teach you to play golf if you want."
"Oh god, no."
"Hey! Why not?"
Rodney turned to Teyla and Ford. "You guys are okay? No affects from the gas?"
Ford looked like he was going to strain something from the effort of not laughing. "We're fine, Doc. Neither of us went down into the complex until you had all the doors open, and we had hazmat suits."
"Hazmat suits," Rodney said, glancing over at John. "What a smart idea."
"I had a suit for you, which I would have given you had the door not been locked in my face."
"Gentlemen," Carson said, stepping in. "Why don't we let Rodney rest? You can visit again when I release him. That means you too, Major."
John opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by Carson.
"I will'na be havin' any argument from you if you know what's good for you."
Huffing, Rodney watched John slowly unfold himself from the chair. "Want to have a celebratory 'we're not dead' dinner when you're released, McKay?"
"Sure. But let's not mention food right now, okay?"
John grinned, and with a wave put an arm around Teyla and Ford's shoulders as they walked out. "So guys, I was thinking for team night..."
Rodney turned toward Carson. "You think I'll be able to be released this afternoon?"
"Aye, lad. This seems to run its course fairly quickly."
"Then why the medical leave if I’m fine?"
"Partially to make you rest. Your body took a bit of a shock, and I want you to give it time to recover." Carson leaned against the edge of the bed. "You already look better from when you first woke up."
"Your voodoo concoction helped."
Rolling his eyes, Carson smiled. "Don't pick at the man who stands between you and pain relief, Rodney."
"I’m just staying that whatever you came up with helped."
"Good. I had to try a few different mixes on the Major before we found this one, and it seems to be working on everyone else just as effectively."
"So this afternoon?"
"Aye. In the meantime, I want you to lie back and try to rest."
"I can do that," Rodney said, leaning back against the pillows and closing his eyes. He opened them a moment later. "Any chance I can get a laptop?"
Carson had stood and moved to the door, where he paused. "Do you really have to ask?"
Rodney sighed. "Fine. Thanks, Carson." The Scot smiled at him before heading out into the main ward, leaving McKay to rest and relax as ordered. The time went quickly—thanks to the nurses making regular checks and the appearance of his late-lunch once his appetite was back.
And true to his word, Carson signed his release paperwork in the early afternoon, giving him strict orders to come back if there were any complications. With John MIA, Rodney headed to his quarters to change before stopping at the lab to check on a few ongoing projects.
Sheppard, of course, had to find him there.
"You do know the meaning of 'medical leave', right? That means you aren't supposed to go right back to work."
"There are some things I just can't leave. I was only expecting to be gone part of the day not several," Rodney commented, moving to another workstation to check the reports.
John leaned against a workstation, idly picking up an artifact and fiddling with it. "Isn't that what your staff is for, to keep an eye on things when you're not here?"
"Yes, but I usually give them both fair warning and specific orders. This time they had neither. And I'm almost done." Rodney paused, glancing up. "And for the record, I was not in the mood to lose several months of work just because Carson put me on medical leave."
"Right you—Cool." The small object had started to glow a royal blue. "Is this supposed to do that?"
"Yes," Rodney said absently. "I haven't figured out what it's supposed to do yet—besides the pretty blue light."
John was staring at it intently. "It feels... I'll be back." Without another word John started for the door, object in hand.
"Sheppard…where are you going?"
John didn't answer, just disappeared out the door.
Rodney shook his head, moving back to the workstation. He checked a few more reports before ordering several other tests. He was wrapping up when Sheppard walked back in.
Without stopping to ask if he was ready to go, or even really stopping at all, John took Rodney's elbow and dragged him forward, out the door and into one of the small storage closets nearby, ignoring his protests. When the door closed, he yanked Rodney's pants and boxers down, fastening the little ring he had taken earlier around the base of Rodney's cock.
"John! What the hell are you doing?"
"Wait for it." Without warning, the small bit of metal started to vibrate slightly, enough to get him slightly hard, but not enough for immediate orgasm. As his dick took an interest, he filled the ring, which created enough pressure that he knew he wouldn't be able to come with it on anyway.
Rodney's eyes widened as it tightened down, adjusting a little to get a better fit. "You— How did you…?"
With a wicked grin, John pulled Rodney's pants back up, adjusting them so he wouldn't chafe, and zipped him back up. "I spent the last half hour figuring out how it works. I found just the right amount of vibration to let you know it's there, but still let you walk without getting odd looks."
"Wait a minute. You're going to leave me like this!"
"Have fun at the office. Oh, and did I mention it's keyed? Whoever turns it on has to be the one to take it off." John's face faltered slightly. "If you really don't like it, I can take it off."
"I…" Rodney glanced away briefly, trying to will his erection to go down, but it had other thoughts in the matter, the Ancient cock ring making its presence known. "You are evil."
John leaned forward, pressing a kiss into his mouth. "God, this is hot. Go back to work and get your stuff done. Let me know when you're ready to grab some dinner."
Rodney moaned, wanting skin, needing to feel skin. "I'm finished and I had a late lunch."
John chuckled, a dirty sound. "We still have to brief Elizabeth. Why don't we go do that now, so our evening is free? And I do need to grab some dinner."
"Like this?" Rodney could feel his eyes widen even further as he thought of wearing the cock ring in Elizabeth's office.
"Yes. I want to walk around with you knowing it's there, making you think about sex." John's eyes had gone dark with lust.
"Oh, god," Rodney moaned, closing his eyes as he leaned against the wall. "You are going to kill me."
John chuckled, pressing another quick kiss to his mouth. Then he stood and hit his radio. "Elizabeth, this is Sheppard. I just dragged Rodney out of the labs—he didn't quite get the concept of leave. We're on our way to brief you now."
Rodney didn't hear her reply, but John signed off a beat later.
"You are evil."
"And you love it." John sauntered towards the door. "Coming?"
"Not anytime soon if you have your way," Rodney grumbled, but followed John out the door. This was going to be the longest briefing in human history.
***
John decided the Ancients were a bit out of their minds, but they were kinky bastards. He could get behind that.
The briefing with Elizabeth had been one of the most entertaining and arousing meetings of his life. Rodney couldn’t sit still, and kept getting up to pace, waving his arms around as he talked, only to sit again. He would repeat the whole process after only a few minutes of stillness. Elizabeth shook her head a few times, but exchanged a look with John that he had come to know as ‘Rodney has been drinking way too much caffeine lately.’
After the meeting—which lasted a good forty minutes before they got through everything—John decided he was hungry. That, and knowing Rodney was wearing a vibrating cock ring was a situation he wanted to extend a little longer. He wondered if he could get him to wear it all day some time. Grabbing a sandwich and bottle of water, he slid into a seat at the far corner of the mess, Rodney squirming into the seat across from him with a pudding cup and a roll. “Not hungry?”
"I ate a pretty large late lunch. Remember I mentioned that?"
"Yeah, but that was a while ago." John took a big bite and grinned. God, this was so hot, he was fighting to keeping himself under some sort of control.
"I’m not hungry now, but I'll need to eat something later."
"Sounds like a plan. Grab a sandwich on the way out. That'll keep." He resisted the urge to up the vibrations for a moment. He had been fighting not to do that since they stepped foot in Elizabeth's office. He wanted Rodney aroused, but he wasn't trying to torture his lover.
"Fine," Rodney said, eating his pudding with less enthusiasm than normal.
John reached out with a foot and ran it along Rodney's leg. He dropped his voice low enough that no one would be able to hear. "Do you have any idea how hot this is?"
"I’m just…I’m not this patient."
"Does it help to know that I'm probably as...excited...as you are at the moment? I'm savoring the slow build."
Rodney glanced up, his expression shy but frustrated. "Really?"
"Oh, yeah."
"Then maybe it's time to move onto the next step."
Finishing off his sandwich in a few bites, John stood up. "Why don't we head out? Oh! I forgot to tell you, Carson wants us to go to that room to rest. Said he wants us where he can keep an eye on us. I just need to run by my room to grab a few things first."
"Room?" Rodney asked as he stood carefully, moving to the garbage to throw out his pudding cup. He stepped over to the food area, grabbing a sandwich for later. It took a moment before his mind linked what John had said and his eyes widened. "The room?"
John grinned. "Yup. He doesn't like us wandering around when we're on medical leave. Seems he thinks he can't trust us if we go back to our own quarters." As they got to the transporter, John hit the location closest to his room.
"And what did he tell Elizabeth?" Rodney asked as they stepped into the hallway to the living quarters.
"That he confining us to a medical ward to force us to rest, since we've already gone wandering when left to our own devices." John flicked his door open with a thought, and grabbed the backpack sitting just inside the door. "I already packed. Grabbed a few things for you earlier, didn't think you'd mind."
"Uh…no, I guess not."
"Good. Let's go then. Sooner we get there and all that jazz." John grinned, once again resisting the urge to up the vibration controls. He would do that when they were alone and he could do something about the resulting erection quickly. Rodney deserved a fast blow-job for letting John play like this.
"When did you…when did Carson assign us to the medical ward?"
"While you were working. I stopped back at the infirmary to check in, since he wanted to look me over. He told me then." Back in the transporter, John hit their new destination, almost bouncing on his toes in anticipation.
Rodney glanced at him for a long moment, falling silent as they walked to the new medical wing in the once flooded section of the city. When the doors to the room they'd used before slid open, the lights came up, illuminating the huge bed and living space. A few things were already in the small kitchen.
John wasted no time, dropping his bag and pushing Rodney against the wall, devouring his mouth and mentally upping the cock ring stimulation. He pulled off long enough to pant into Rodney's neck. "Oh, God this is probably one of the hottest things I have ever found. Knowing you were wearing it all this time..." John rubbed his own growing and demanding hard-on against Rodney's leg.
McKay moaned, clutching at John. "Please…oh god…please…"
John dropped to his knees, yanking down pants and boxers, getting his mouth around Rodney. He found the ring with his fingers, and flicked it off with a mental command, at the same time he did a swirly-sucky thing that usually made Rodney come.
Thanks to the continuous stimulation and John's talented tongue, it took Rodney less than a minute before he was coming down John's throat with a broken-off yell, slumping against the wall.
John sucked gently through the aftershocks, pulling off when Rodney started to shudder. "You are so fucking perfect."
"Evil. You are evil. Making me sit in Elizabeth's office in a briefing. I swore she could hear it…" he panted, still trying to catch his breath.
"But, oh my god, was that amazing. Knowing you were feeling that and watching you and..." John was painfully hard now that he didn't have to keep an iron control on himself. He waited until Rodney had his legs under him again and then rolled onto his back on the floor, popping the buttons on his BDUs and shoving them down his hips. "Oh god I need to come now."
"John, let me—" Rodney broke off, sliding to the floor, pants and boxers still tangled around his legs.
John whimpered, stilling his hands from their path towards his leaking cock. "Touch me now. Rodney, if you don't touch me I swear I'll be coming just on the thought of you wearing that cock ring alone."
Rodney pushed John's hands away before bending down, taking John's cock into his mouth—sucking and licking and adding just the right amount of teeth to put John right on edge.
Hips thrusting up involuntarily, John poured himself down Rodney's throat in an embarrassingly short amount of time.
Sucking him dry, Rodney finally sat up, a smug expression on his face, his eyes half closed, filled with arousal.
"So, we like the cock ring, right?" John was aware that they were lying on the floor by the door, both of them with pants shoved halfway down, panting. They probably looked ridiculous, but he couldn't bring himself to care.
"I think that was a yes."
"Maybe you'll wear it all day for me some time?" He cracked an eyelid to gaze at Rodney.
"Maybe."
"Oh God..." John groaned, rolling up to grab Rodney and pull him into a sloppy kiss.
They kissed for several minutes, each dirtier and sloppier than the last until Rodney finally backed off. "You know, there is a perfectly good large bed in the room."
"Yeah, and we're still mostly dressed. Sorry about that. I couldn't wait any longer."
"I didn't want to either, but I didn't have much choice in the matter," Rodney commented, rolling off John with a groan.
Grunting a bit himself, John thought they were probably both getting too old for this sort of thing, but there was no way in hell he was stopping. On his way to the bed, he managed to divest himself of his clothes, hopping up and spreading his legs in as slutty a pose as he could come up with on short notice. "I can make it up to you."
Rodney glanced up at him from his position on the floor, his eyes darkening. "You had better."
Laughing John sat up again. "Get up here and get rid of the clothes. On your stomach. I'm going to poke around and see if Carson left me the oil I asked for."
"Seeing that my pants are around my ankles, actually getting the clothes off before I try to attempt making it to the bed would probably be a better idea," McKay said, sitting up slowly, eventually managing to tackle his bootlaces.
John rooted around in the drawers and didn't find any massage oil. Bummer. Carson had said he would leave some, but John figured he could work on Rodney's back without it. Next time he'd just have to bring his own, or get it ahead of time. When he made his way back to the bed, he found Rodney lying on his side watching, an odd look on his face. "What?"
"It's still strange," he said, waving the hand that wasn't holding up his head. "This whole thing."
"Strange?" John climbed up on the bed, pushing Rodney over so he had access to his lips, although he didn't kiss him yet. "Is that good or bad?"
"Oof," he said as his back hit the bed and he scowled lightly up at John. "I just never…" He broke off, his eyes glancing to the side as he pursed his lips. John waited, his hand brushing against Rodney's chest. After a minute he turned back to Sheppard, eyes clear and steady. "It's good."
Smiling, John brushed his lips across Rodney's. "Good. Now, roll over, wench." He couldn't help it, he knew it would earn him the exasperated look, which he was willing to admit he probably found sexier than was really healthy.
Sure enough, Rodney rolled his eyes and huffed, but did as John requested, settling onto his stomach with his head pillowed on his arms.
John straddled him, and, starting at the shoulders, finding and working out the tension in Rodney's frame. He let himself get lost in the repetitive nature of the movements, letting his mind wander a bit.
"John, are you okay?" Rodney asked quietly, peering up at him as best as he could from his current position.
"Hmm?" John snapped himself out of his reverie.
"You're quiet. Quieter than usual for you."
John continued to work for a moment, enjoying the way Rodney's muscles felt under his hands, imagining how good it would feel if he had oil. "It's been a long week I guess. Just enjoying being here with you, not having to think."
"It sure feels like you're thinking though."
He debated brushing it off—he knew that, unlike Carson or Teyla, Rodney probably wouldn't push. He decided to go with something in between; if Rodney wanted to know more, he would try to tell him, if not, they could let it lie. "Well, not thinking about the issues that've been bothering me. I was getting tired of chasing them around my head anyway."
"Issues?"
Figures. Rodney was a scientist and not prone to letting things lie. "I...wasn't sure I was doing the job Atlantis needed me to be doing. I wasn't supposed to be here in a command capacity, and after the virus, and Elizabeth's dressing-down after, I wasn't... I had to work through that. Actually, I had to have Teyla beat sense into me, which came after Carson tried to talk to me."
"So, you're in command. What's the big deal? You're doing a good job," Rodney's voice was matter of fact. "I'll never understand the mentality of the military—no matter what nation they're from." He shook his head a little. "You have nothing to worry about. You're doing a good job. End of story."
John snorted a laugh, digging into a particularly tight muscle with his thumb. "Being in command is a lot more difficult than I thought it would be. After the black mark, I had pretty much come to terms that I would never be in charge of more than my own helicopter again, and even that was only so long as I was in the air—I didn't decide where I went or when. So it was a bit of a shock to be thrown into Atlantis, and then be thrown into command in the space of a few days. I didn't think much about it until the nano-virus, though. Disobeying orders, going against Elizabeth, could have turned out a lot worse than it did."
"But it didn't." Rodney shifted, lifting himself a little so he could see John better. "No one trusted Sumner—or liked him, but that's another matter entirely—at least on my side of the fence. You're a much better fit for the position, John—and no, I'm not saying that because we're naked on a huge bed."
John couldn't stop the smile he felt curving his lips, although he had to admit this type of conversation still made him want to squirm a little. "Thanks. I guess everything just cut a little too close to what I was told when I got the black mark. All those accusations and I couldn't help but wonder if they were true. I think I've decided I don't have much choice —if I don't trust myself and my decisions, no one else will be able to, and people really will get hurt."
John paused again, his mind finally making some of the connections it needed to make—between his conversations with Carson, Teyla, and Rodney and the events that had just transpired. "I know that my…attitude isn't the right one when it comes to military edicts, but I can't go against my nature. This is how I am, how I have to be. I acted instinctively back on the planet and we managed to get everyone out—you included. If I hadn't acted, if I'd done things more according to correct procedure and we'd lost someone…I…I had to do something, try something. If it didn't work, I'd at least know I tried, that I did something. And it all worked out and you're here safe and sound and that's all that matters right now. So," he pushed to get Rodney flat again, picking up the massage where he had left off, "now I can just let my brain rest and enjoy putting my hands all over you."
"And we do trust you, you know."
Feeling a faint blush spread up his body, John grunted and focused on Rodney's back. He leaned forward, kissing his lover between the shoulder blades, before sitting up again for the leverage.
McKay settled back down, hissing and moaning as John worked the muscles, slowly getting them to unknot and relax. Neither of them were expecting the door chime.
John raised an eyebrow, laying a hand flat on Rodney's back to warn him to keep silent for a moment. "Hello?"
"Major Sheppard?"
"Carson?" John rolled off the bed, grabbing his boxers off the floor and tugging them on as he walked to the door.
"You can't just go and open the door!" Rodney hissed, his wide blue eyes staring at John.
He leaned in the doorway to block the view of the rest of the room as he triggered the door, ignoring Rodney for now. A quick look showed the doctor was alone, and the tension immediately drained out of him. "Doc, what can I do for you?"
Carson looked a little sheepish, and kept his eyes front and center. "You'd asked me to bring you some…items, but I had a wee bit of a hard time trying to find some for you. I meant to bring it by earlier…"
John chuckled and moved out of the door so Carson could step in. He really didn't need to be seen talking to people in the hall in his boxers, even though this section wasn't used much. "I was wondering what had happened. Good, I'll be able to work more of the kinks out of Rodney's back now."
"Sheppard!" Rodney was already under several layers of blankets, apparently trying to hide in the middle of the bed.
"We don't have anything he hasn't seen, McKay. Who do you think undresses us every time we come back through the gate injured and wake up in scrubs?" John glanced around and spotted Rodney's boxers in a pile of clothes nearby. He snagged them and chucked them over on the bed. "Put those on."
Carson chuckled as Rodney ducked under the covers, obviously doing as John requested. "Sorry to barge in on you two. That was'na my intention." Beckett followed John over to the kitchen area, leaning against the counter as John grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.
"Nah, I was just giving Rodney a massage like we had talked about before. I appreciate the oil. I can only do so much without it." John leaned against the counter, reaching over to snag a grape-thing as he talked.
"I found something earlier but I imagine Rodney might have had a right-quick reaction to it. I had to ask around and finally found one of the biologists who had some."
"Biologists?" Rodney's voice was still in the upper reaches of his range.
"Perfect." John took the bottle and uncapped it, smiling to himself at the light, clean scent. "Anything I should be aware of about it? Deadly if ingested, turns people purple or anything?"
"Nothing. Non-citrus-based massage oil and all natural."
"What did they make it out of? It smells great." John inhaled again and then put the lid back on, setting it on the counter. He heard Rodney still spluttering from the bed, but figured his lover would get up and join them momentarily.
Carson peered at the label. "Black currant and vanilla," he said with a shrug.
John glanced over at the bed and laughed when he saw Rodney. He was trying to wrap every blanket available around himself while getting up to come investigate at the same time. John knew he wouldn't be able to stay there and not check out what they were talking about for long. "You know that's not going to work, right? And you're messing up the bed."
"There is no need for me to prance around the room in nothing but my underwear, thank you very much," Rodney sniffed, but stopped when the blankets wouldn't budge. "Can I at least have a shirt?"
"You don't have anything either of us hasn't seen before, and it's not like you need to worry about how you look. Just come over here, Rodney." Out of the corner of his eye John could see Carson trying hard not to laugh.
"Laugh it up, Beckett," Rodney grumbled, finally emerging from the blankets. But instead of wandering over to the kitchen area, he strode over to his pile of clothes and shrugged on his blue t-shirt.
John shook his head. He didn't have the heart to tell Rodney that the shirt just highlighted his body and drew more attention to things like his broad shoulders than just leaving it off would have done. It made for a nice view, if nothing else. He turned back to Carson. "Everyone been released now?"
"Not yet. We still have a handful of patients—mostly the ones who were exposed the longest."
"Watson?" Rodney asked, finally walking over to the kitchen and snagging the water John was holding.
John let him have it without a fight, since now that Rodney was facing him, the shirt highlighted other things—like his lover’s very erect nipples—. Before he got too distracted Sheppard turned back, rejoining the conversation before Carson had a chance to answer. "Other than Watson and Hollister, who were in the far room, who else is still being held? And how bad are they?"
"Mostly it's the science staff, but they should be fine by morning."
"And beyond the initial discomfort everyone felt as we woke up, no complications?"
"A few minor ones," Carson admitted. "Which brings me to the second reason why I'm here. I wanted to check Rodney over quickly."
"But I feel fine!"
"Aye. But I'd rather be sure you are."
"Not a bad idea. I'd rather know everything was okay, that no additional problems are going to crop up." John bumped Rodney with his hip, pushing him lightly in Carson's direction.
"Don’t I get a say in this?"
John shrugged. "He's requiring everyone who was in the complex to do it. Why do you think I stopped in the infirmary before I came to get you in the labs?"
"I don't know. I didn't ask. I figured you had your reasons."
Knowing Carson wouldn't care, John wrapped himself around Rodney's back, putting a head on his shoulder. He felt a little self-conscious, but in a way it was nice to be able to show affection in front of someone. "Yup. I was ordered to do it. Figured that was a good reason."
Rodney stiffened for a moment before relaxing a little. Carson stood off to the side watching quietly, an amused expression on his face. "What exactly are you checking?"
"I just want to make sure your vitals are where they should be, and take a quick blood sample to check that all of the toxin is out of your system. It won't take long."
"And if you're a really good boy, I'll use the new massage oil on you when Beckett gets the hell out." John grinned into Rodney's neck, winking at the doctor.
"Sheppard," Rodney hissed and John could feel the heat from the other man's face as he flushed.
"It's not like he doesn't know what's going to happen as soon as he's gone anyway." Kissing Rodney's shoulder, still grinning, John stood and pulled away. "So hurry up and take care of it so we can get back to the relaxing part."
Grumbling, Rodney shot an annoyed and embarrassed look over his shoulder at John as Carson led him to the bed, sitting him down and running a few brief tests.
John leaned back against the counter, finishing his bottle of water Rodney had left sitting there. Since he wasn't required to do anything at the moment, he just let himself admire Rodney's body.
Carson and Rodney talked quietly, McKay answering all of the doctor's questions and not complaining when the Scot took a quick blood sample, holding the gauze over the mark as Beckett pulled out a small bandage.
John had to admit he was tired. It really had been a long week, between the virus, his developing relationship—and wasn't that a scary word—with Rodney, and now the poisoned caves. He let the sound of conversation wash over him for a while, jerking eyes he hadn't realized he had closed open at a touch on his elbow.
"You okay, lad?" Carson asked quietly, his blue eyes showing his concern. Rodney was staring at him from across the room, eyes narrowed, arms crossed over his chest in a near self-hug.
"Yeah. Just zoned out for a minute. I'm fine." John flashed him a smile. "You all done with Rodney?"
"Aye. I'm done. I'd recommend actually getting some sleep if I were you," Carson nodded, his voice low.
"We will. Honestly, as much as I wish otherwise, I don't know how much more I'm up to anyway." John crossed over to the bed, flopping down next to Rodney, knowing Carson would let himself out when he was ready. "So we're all healthy and patched up now?"
"As far as I can tell. Get some rest and enjoy your time off," Carson said already heading to the door. "And don't forget to eat."
"I saw there was some food in there. We'll make sure we have something. Thanks, Carson." John rolled onto his back, so he could watch the doctor leave, and look at Rodney. "Damn. I left the oil on the counter." He wondered if he could convince Rodney to get back up and get it.
"I have to pee, so I can grab it on the way back," Rodney said after a moment, getting back to his feet and padding across the floor, popping a few grapes in his mouth as he passed the counter.
"You rock." John closed his eyes and pushed his arms above his head, loving the way he could actually stretch every muscle on this huge bed.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Rodney said, disappearing into the bathroom. He emerged a few minutes later with a few bath towels in his hands, pausing at the counter to grab the oil and some more grapes.
"What's with the towels?" John hadn't moved, and was aware that he was like a cat at the moment, taking up far more of the bed than really should be possible.
"Unless you plan on getting oil all over the sheets, I thought it might be a good idea."
"Oh. Smart."
Rodney snorted. "Thanks. I am a genius, you know," he said, dropping the towels on the bed as he looked at the oil a little closer. "And did you actually read the label?"
"Black currant vanilla. Smell it. I don't know who brought it, and I can't imagine what he had to trade to get it, but we owe him one."
Rodney uncapped it, taking a sniff, before putting the top back on. "It's not bad. And you do know its part of that aromatherapy crap thing? According to the label, this combination of 'absolutes and essential oils create an alluring blend designed to appeal to your most romantic nature.'" Rodney rolled his eyes. "Carson is a bigger yenta than I thought possible."
John laughed, moving over a little so Rodney could get back on the bed with him. "It smells good though, right? That's all I care about. Well, that and it won't kill me when I lick it off you later."
"Yes, it smells fine," Rodney said, turning it over in his hands as he looked over the ingredients. "And yes, you should live."
"Oh, good. See, that's why I go to a doctor as my supplier, rather than track this stuff down myself. And you need to lose the clothes again. As appealing as staring at your nipples in the shirt is, I like you naked even better."
Rodney rolled his eyes before sending John a playful look. "You think so, do you?"
Raising one eyebrow, John grinned back. "Yup. I do think so."
"You know, I was naked before."
"I noticed that. And now that I have oil, I can have you naked and slicked up." Despite his intention to stick to massage for a while longer, John felt his dick twitch at the thought.
Rodney threw him a knowing look and put the bottle of oil down on the bedside table. "I'm very comfortable just the way I am."
"Are you now?" John watched him carefully, calculating the amount of effort and speed he would need to get Rodney on the bed and naked before the other man would know what was going on. "And why's that?"
McKay's mouth twitched and John knew that Rodney was baiting him. "It's a little warmer than being naked, for one. And two, who knows how many other people might be wandering in the door. And three, you're still in your boxers."
"Well, you could do something about the third. I don't plan on opening the door for anyone else. And if you come over here, I'll keep you warm. So there you go. Strip." John grinned as he stretched again.
"No."
John waited another heartbeat and then sprang up, getting a leg wrapped around Rodney and twisting, so his lover was now pinned beneath him on the bed. "Then I'll just have to work around it." Lowering his head, he sucked in a nipple through the fabric of the thin t-shirt.
Rodney moaned and shuddered at the sensation, even while he struggled to get out from under John.
Biting lightly, John pulled up so he could look at Rodney's face. "Feeling any differently about the clothes yet?"
"You think I'm going to give in that easily?" Rodney asked, panting slightly, his face flushed. A smile ghosted over his mouth.
"Hmmm, I'm going to have to break out the big guns, eh?" John captured the other nipple, sucking and biting both it and the shirt until Rodney was gasping again. When he pulled off, he grinned at the twin wet spots. "I might change my mind. You should leave the shirt on for a while."
"Defeats the purpose of a back massage with the oil you made Carson find," Rodney said, still fighting to get John on his back, but he had no leverage.
John managed to get a leg between Rodney's without letting go of the wrists he had pinned. Now, as Rodney struggled, he was getting the slightest hints of pressure in all the right places. "That's true. I need to make you smell like a candy bar, and loosen you up a bit. Decisions, decisions."
Rodney, it seemed, had leapt on the same train as John if his erection was any indication—which only seemed to be growing the more he struggled.
Groaning, John scooted up to get to Rodney's mouth, pulling him into a heated kiss. "I really do want to use that oil on you. Stop distracting me with all the erotic wiggling."
"You're the one who's distracting," Rodney complained, his voice breathy.
"Nope. I was just minding my own business when you started with the wiggling." John moved down to kiss along Rodney's jaw. "Massage. I wasn't done yet. If I let go, will you lose the shirt and flip over?"
"I think you have to make me."
"Combative massage. Kinky. I like it." John's brain flashed a few ways he could keep Rodney still and on his stomach, but he didn't think either of them would be able to focus on massage if he used those.
"Glad I can be of service," Rodney said, challenge in his eyes.
John returned the challenge with a grin. McKay wasn't often playful like this, and he wanted to take full advantage of it. With a practiced combat move, he swiftly flipped Rodney onto his stomach, reflecting that it was probably a good thing the scientist was untrained. With his weight advantage, if he actually knew any hand-to-hand, John would be in trouble.
Rodney, it seemed, wasn't giving in without a fight and nearly managed to get his knees under him.
Using a leg to get some leverage, John pushed down, using his body to add pressure until he was certain he had Rodney pinned—at least for the moment.
"This is so not fair," Rodney complained.
"I can't help it if you choose to go head-to-head with someone who has actual training." John was grinning, trying to figure out how he could get the cloth ropes and massage oil and not loose his advantage.
"And yet here we are and you haven't gotten the clothing off. Have I stumped you yet?"
"Just planning my method of attack. I can't underestimate my opponent. I have to account for every contingency." John scooted and pushed Rodney's hands above his head and together, where John could hold them with one hand. With the other, he tugged on the shirt, and managed to get it up to where it covered Rodney's head and bound his arms together, despite all the wiggling.
"You are not serious!" Rodney said, a half chuckle on his breath as he tried to move.
"I'm only getting started." John chuckled evilly, working his free hand under Rodney's boxers, pushing it just into the top of his ass crack. With his lover partially distracted, John took a risk and let go of his hands, yanking the boxers off and moving to sit on him again.
"That was unfair!" Rodney complained, trying to shove his shirt back down—and half managing it.
John wrestled with him, finally managing to get Rodney pinned again. They were both panting a bit by that time. "Unfair? I didn't know there were rules here."
"You have an unfair advantage," Rodney said, the sound muffled through his shirt as he bucked up slightly, grinding his ass in John's groin.
Unable to hold back a short moan at the friction—he was still wearing his boxers, which added to the sensations—John pushed back down for a second before letting up. "When trying to outsmart a genius, one has to use every dirty, underhanded trick they know."
"And you're managing to do just that," Rodney commented, trying once again to get his hands free from John's grip, the shirt proving to be a very effective means to give him limited mobility.
"Yup." John had managed to once more get himself in a position where he could pin Rodney's hands with one of his. To prove just how underhanded he was, he stuck a finger in his mouth to get it wet, then reached back to push the tip into his lover's entrance. Now if he could only find a way to get to the massage oil. It was on the bedside table, so John eyed it and plotted while he worked his finger barely in and out.
Rodney tried to buck up again, but couldn't manage more than a few small movements and he groaned before finally panting out another comment. "Evil. Very evil."
"I believe you've mentioned that before." John decided another risk was in order. He pushed his finger in a little more at the same time he rose up and grabbed for the bottle of oil.
McKay, of course, seemed to know the move was coming, because he used John's momentary distraction to his advantage. Even though it meant losing John's finger in his ass, he rolled to the side just as John was pushing off to get the oil, shoving Sheppard across the bed before rolling the other way and wrestling his shirt back in to place.
John palmed the bottle of oil, and grinned widely at the sight of Rodney, who was hard with no boxers on, nipples tight, erect, and visible through the still-damp spots on his shirt. "Wow. Talk about a great view."
"Yes, well, while I might be a sight, you seem to have lost the first battle—even with your underhanded, dirty tricks."
"I got your boxers off. I count that as a victory." John leaned back on his elbows to admire.
"And yet, I still have my shirt on and I'm free from your vice-like grip."
"For the moment. I have the oil now, so all I have to do is get you pinned again."
"There is the matter of placement. There are towels involved."
"Good point. I'll go ahead and get the towels set up so I have a rough idea of where I need to pin you." He leaned over the edge of the bed to grab for the bag he had dropped there earlier, wanting to pull out the bindings, too—that would make it easier next time.
"I'll just wait right here," McKay said. John could feel Rodney's gaze on him, watching his every move.
John slowly pulled them out, laying the ropes side by side on the bed, putting the bottle of oil down next to them. He then took the towels and set them up, carefully arranging everything before looking up to catch Rodney's eye again.
McKay's eyes were dark, nearly all pupil as he glanced between the items on the bed and John. "The ropes are new."
"I traded for them on the mainland. Thought I'd save them for a special occasion." John's body responded to Rodney's very obvious arousal, but he mentally told it that it was going to have to wait. He had plans.
"When did you have time to get them? And what happened to Teyla's gift?"
"I have those too. I had her pick these up for me when she went for her weekly visit. One of her people is a great leather-worker—he made the cuffs—and she's a better bargainer than I am." And she had made him blush bright red and actually stammer out what he wanted while she grinned and played dumb.
"Oh." Rodney's eyes were wide and fixed on John's face—all the playfulness from before gone.
John got up on his knees and crawled to Rodney's side, pulling him in for a gentle kiss. His whole body responded as Rodney leaned into him, let him take control of it. Surrendered. He breathed his lover's name into their combined mouths.
McKay moaned into the kiss, his hands on John's body, one trailing up to his neck.
"I want to touch you."
Rodney pulled back, nodding. "Anything you want."
John tugged on the shirt. "Gonna let me take this off you now? As hot as you look in a shirt and nothing else—and I think you'll be dressing in that again at some point in the future. I want access to you now."
McKay lifted his arms, letting John pull the shirt over his head and then tossing it behind him, hearing it fall to the floor. They'd worry about it later.
John ran his hands up Rodney's chest, catching a nipple with his thumbs along the way. When he reached his face, John pulled him in for another deep kiss.
Rodney opened his mouth, letting John plunder it, moaning when Sheppard finally pulled away to take a breath, following, trying to continue the kiss John had started.
"On your stomach, hands above your head." He wanted to touch, to feel Rodney's muscles responding under him.
McKay opened his eyes, a protest starting on his lips until John's finger touched them.
"Let me. I need this."
Rodney kissed John's finger and then moved toward the towels John had spread out, settling down on his stomach, arms loosely above, his head turned to the side.
Grabbing the bottle, John dribbled oil on Rodney's back, running his hands through it to get them coated. At this point, it wasn't about relaxing Rodney as much as touching him; the sensual feel of oil-slicked fingers running over skin. Each time he got to Rodney's lower back, he went lower, until he was once more teasing the very top of his lover's ass, pushing just barely between the cheeks.
But instead of bucking up against him like he had been before, Rodney was nearly melting into the bed, his muscles relaxing and unknotting, small murmurs and purrs the only response John was receiving.
Working his way down, John used his knees to push Rodney's legs as far apart as they could go. Adding more oil to his hand, he worked his fingers under Rodney's body, fingering the soft balls and coating them before finding the base of his erection.
McKay shifted his hips, rolling slightly to the side to give John more room as he brought one leg up, bent at the knee, to steady himself.
John coated his dick, making it glisten with a thin sheen of oil. He idly thought he was going to have to get a botanist to make him more, if possible. Then he left that area, moving down the backs of Rodney's legs. It was beautiful, the way Rodney's skin shone in the soft light. John wanted to make his whole body glow like that.
Rodney moved instinctively, shifting his body to give John the room he needed or a better angle.
Legs and feet done, John moved up, starting at Rodney's shoulders and working his way out to his fingers on each arm. The smell of the oil mixed with arousal and Rodney was slowly driving John crazy.
Feeling Rodney's gaze on him, John glanced up, catching McKay's eye, taking in the contentment on his face.
John nudged him until he was on his back and then captured his mouth in a sweet kiss. He could taste traces of oil, and he groaned quietly into Rodney's mouth, even as he continued to caress, spreading it along his lover's chest now.
It was amazing to see Rodney so still, so relaxed, so trusting, and so quiet. And he was doing it without John needing to ask or demand, falling instinctively and fully into submission but with the edge that was still Rodney.
Pulling away from the kiss, John ran a hand across Rodney's cheek, smiling at the glistening sheen it left behind. He didn't want to break the spell by talking, so he turned his attention to finishing the task of making his lover glow.
It was strange, in a way, to massage this way. John was actually much more comfortable and used to the usual back massage. And honestly, he'd never had the urge to do this with anyone else before.
He took his time, making sure every part of Rodney's body was coated, covered with the sheen of oil, the smell of the oil filling the room.
Sitting back, he asked Atlantis to adjust the lighting, giving the city a complicated thought of what he was looking for. She responded by turning it a pale gold in the room, making John catch his breath at the way Rodney looked.
Rodney's forehead was drawn in question as he gazed up at John, his eyes flickering around the room. "John?" the word was whispered, barely loud enough to reach John's ears.
"Beautiful." It was the only word he had to describe it. He wanted both to touch and to just sit here and look, memorizing the way the light highlighted the planes of Rodney's body, accented by the oil.
Rodney glanced away, his face flushing at the compliment, the red spreading down his chest.
John finally moved, trailing one finger along the edges of the blush. "Perfect."
McKay's voice was hushed, quiet. "I didn't know the lights did that."
"Neither did I. I didn't really ask for anything specific, just sort of pictured what I wanted." John couldn't tear his eyes away.
"And I'm really glad I'm not allergic to the oil."
"Me, too." John picked up the finger he had trailed across Rodney's chest, and ran it across his lover's lips, making them glisten too.
"Are you okay?"
"Better than okay." John lowered himself down, licking the oil off Rodney's lips.
"You're going to get the oil all over yourself."
"I don't mind." John flicked his tongue out, liking the way he found traces of Rodney under the vanilla. It made him want to tie his lover down and lick it all off him, one slow inch at a time.
Rodney sighed in contentment. "You're thinking about something aren't you?"
"You. I'm thinking of all the things I want to do to you." He moved to cover Rodney's body with his own, sparks of pleasure running through him everywhere they slipped together. "We're going to need more oil."
"More? I don't think you missed any spots."
"This won't be the only time we use it." Because it was oil, John had a feeling they were both going to be very soft and very fragrant. He made a mental note to make sure they showered both tonight and tomorrow. He didn't want to lose the scent, but he also knew if they both walked around smelling like massage oil, people would put two and two together.
"Oh. I can't argue with that."
"I'm adding a trip to the bath store to our list for if we ever get back to Earth. We're stocking up. We can try out different flavors." John nibbled his way down Rodney's neck, moving his hips restlessly. The boxers were starting to become a real irritant—he wanted skin on slippery skin.
"You're going to have quite the list," Rodney said, humming and moaning quietly as he tilted his head, giving John more room to move.
"We'll have to hide all the shit we buy in with your science equipment—I'm guessing if we ever go back you'll go on a geek shopping spree through the SGC. We'll fill a whole box with toys."
"Oh…yeah….probably."
John sat up suddenly, pushing his boxers down and off and then fitting his body back into McKay's. Oh god that was good. He began to move, slow, easy, the way their bodies slid... John was pretty sure if he hadn't come an hour ago, he probably wouldn't be able to last.
Rodney's hands were on his back, sliding and leaving streaks of oil on John's skin as his body moved in a counterpoint under John.
Swallowing hard, John needed to be closer. He needed to feel Rodney, to possess him. This dark need—this was what he was hiding from Rodney. His lover wasn't really ready to face it yet, despite what he thought. Instead, John pushed himself up again, grabbing the bottle of oil. Dribbling out enough to coat his hand again, he reached back, probing until he found Rodney's entrance. He pushed a slick finger inside, moving it around in an attempt to coat his lover there as well.
"Oh…" Rodney moaned, his hands stilling as they tightened on John's back, shuddering as John's finger brushed over his prostate. "Missed a spot?" He finally managed to say between panting breaths.
Instead of responding, John pulled his fingers out for more oil, this time pushing two inside. Once he had coated Rodney, he was going to lick it off. He knew the scientist didn't have the patience to let him lick it all off, but Rodney's ass was his. He wanted it, wanted to taste musk and vanilla and Rodney.
McKay arched against him before pressing down, trying to get more of John's fingers inside—and inside now. This was going to end very quickly if John didn't do something soon.
John pulled out and off completely. Without a word, he rolled off the bed and found where he had dropped the Ancient cock ring. He brought it back to the bed and snapped it onto Rodney, although this time he didn't turn on the vibration. He really just wanted to make sure there was no coming until he was damn well ready for it. "Get on your knees."
Rodney groaned, looking at John with pleading eyes.
"Knees." He needed. God, he needed. He kept almost losing Rodney, and he had to reassure himself that his lover was still there, still his. He needed to reestablish his claim. Which reminded him, as soon as he was done with Rodney's ass, he needed to mark him again.
Rodney turned over, getting his knees under him, holding himself up with his arms, but he wasn't moving fast enough for John. Using his hands he spread Rodney's legs wide—as wide as he could—positioning him just the way he wanted.
Humming to himself, John took another moment to admire. The light and oil did wonders for Rodney's already perfect little ass. Before there could be any objections, John locked a hand on each hip to keep Rodney still, and began to lick away all the oil he had just pushed in a moment ago, still humming softly.
Rodney tried to squirm, moving between wanting more of John's tongue, to trying to back away from the invasion. He was moaning and whimpering, muttered pleadings for John to do something, do more, to let him come.
All of which John ignored. Later he would devote time and attention to Rodney at the expense of his own needs. He would give his lover what he wanted. John tightened his grip and continued the assault until he was positive he had gotten all the oil. Only then did he sit up, although his grip didn't change.
"John, please…" Rodney begged, sagging a little.
"Soon." Leaning off the bed again, John pulled the lube out of the backpack, tossing it on the bed. "You can come when I'm fucking you."
"Now? Please tell me that's happening now."
"Soon. Sit back for a minute."
Groaning, Rodney pushed himself up, sitting back on his heels, his hands on his thighs as he glanced over his shoulder at John.
John moved to Rodney's front—once again praising Beckett for the nice big bed—and out one hand around Rodney and one on his hip. Leaning in, he sucked the skin of his spot between his teeth, moaning at the oil he found there. God, he really needed to find more of that stuff.
"Oh god…John, please," Rodney whimpered, tilting his head as his hands moved to John's waist.
But John didn't let go, increased the pressure instead. He spent several long minutes getting the mark to his exact specifications. When he finally decided it was right, he had to smile—the dull patch in the middle of all that shiny skin just made the mark stand out that much more.
Rodney's eyes were nearly all pupil, his hands clutching at John, but for once he didn't beg, didn't plead. Instead he just stared at Sheppard, waiting, his body trembling with need and want.
"I'm going to fuck you now. Back on your knees." John moved back to his previous position. "When I take the ring off, I want you to come immediately."
Moving quickly, Rodney resumed the position he had before, his entire body one big nerve.
John grabbed the lube and slowly slicked himself up. He was already leaking, but he didn't want fast or hard. He wanted to savor. To feel Rodney quiver around him, keening with need. He pushed in deliberately, pulling out enough to adjust his angle, then nudged Rodney's prostate with a few, very small strokes.
"Oh god…" Rodney moaned, shuddering, his arms barely holding him upright. "So full…so good…oh god…" The words were whispered, chanted with each and every move John made.
His control was starting to fray. Rodney had started to clench around him, probably an attempt to make him move faster, and it was doing its job. Every muscle in his body was screaming to take, possess, claim. He started to increase his speed, making sure he zinged Rodney's prostate hard on every stroke.
"John…please…"
It was the almost broken sound in Rodney's voice, the desperate need to come, that got through. With a growl—he really wasn't ready to end it yet—John reached around, getting a hand on Rodney's dick. He slid it down to the base, running a finger all along the ring even as he continued to thrust. Finally, he gave it a mental flick at the same time he pulled back and slammed back in hard.
Rodney keened long and low as he began to pulse in John's hands, coming hard, head thrown back as his entire body shuddered. Collapsing onto the bed, Rodney continued to moan and convulse.
John continued to thrust, not able to stop now, until finally his own orgasm dropped in to say hi. He had enough presence of mind to roll to the side before he completely collapsed.
Lying next to him, Rodney was panting hard into the bed, his shuddering breaths slowly easing.
"Rodney?" When he finally regained the power of speech, John realized he had probably pushed Rodney further in orgasm denial than he ever had before, and he had a sudden stab of panic that it wasn't okay.
McKay managed to turn his head toward John, his hand reaching out toward the other man as he smiled weakly.
"Did I break you?"
"Almost," Rodney whispered. "But feel free to do that again."
John twined his fingers through Rodney's. "I intend to. As soon as we can move, though, we should probably go wash that oil off you."
"No moving."
"Not yet." John agreed, feeling completely wrung out, both physically and mentally. Sex with Rodney was the most intense thing he has ever experienced, every single time.
"Good, good," McKay said, closing his eyes, his breathing finally evening out.
John listened to Rodney sleep for a while, smiling at the ceiling. He decided he was exactly where he was supposed to be, and maybe he should stop worrying about whether or not he was doing a good job, and just trust his instincts. With a deep sigh, he let go of his doubts, knowing everything was going to be all right, at least for now.
***
The End