Fix Me - Chapter 1/3
Mar. 24th, 2007 10:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
anyanka_egTitle: Fix Me
Author: Anyanka_eg
Rating: NC-17 (for next chapter)
Pairing: McShep
Warnings: Only the usual for hot man love
Pairing: McShep
Warnings: Only the usual for hot man love
Summary: Sleep deprivation is a terrible thing.
Thanks: To Azrael for all her help and suggestions.
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Thanks: To Azrael for all her help and suggestions.
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John jolted awake for the second time that night, drenched with sweat and gasping for breath. His head throbbed with a pain that would have made him think he was having a stroke, if he hadn’t remembered his dream. No, not a dream; a nightmare, the worst one yet. Over the past few weeks his night terrors had become increasingly horrifying visions of death whenever he dared to close his eyes.
He drew in a ragged gulp of air and scrubbed a trembling hand across his face, finding it wet with more than chilled perspiration. He stood on wobbly legs and stumbled to the bathroom, resigned to not getting anymore sleep tonight. He bent over the sink and splashed cold water on his face then straightened up and looked in the mirror, expecting the reflection of his haggard features to greet him. The pale face of a Wraith laughed mockingly into his eyes.
With a scream still on his lips, he shot straight out of bed, fully awake, shaking and panting for air. He was fumbling his clothes on, tears streaming down his face, before he even realized what he was doing. It didn’t matter that it was the middle of the night, it didn’t matter that Rodney would be asleep and he didn’t care that he was a mess. He was out of the door and down the corridor before he had time to wonder if he was really awake this time.
He paused and forced himself to turn his head to catch his fuzzy reflection in Atlantis’s dull metallic wall. He looked like death, but thankfully human. He shuddered as he remembered the Wraith looking back at him from the bathroom mirror. The Wraith he had been in his dream.
The Wraith that had sucked the life out of McKay.
He thought frantically at the chime of Rodney’s door before he even rounded the corner of the corridor and kept it sounding as he approached. The door opened just as he skidded to a halt in front of it to reveal the sleep rumpled scientist wearing boxers and a hastily donned t-shirt.
“What now, Colonel?” asked the exasperated scientist, his eyes slits against the bright light of the corridor.
John tried to draw a breath to answer but it turned into a gulping sob. McKay’s eyes opened in shock at the sound and he finally registered his friend’s pale, tear soaked face. John looked more like a terrified child than a highly trained fighter pilot and McKay responded on instinct as he took hold of the Colonel’s arm, pulling him inside his quarters. The door slid shut behind them as Rodney enfolded John in a fierce hug, offering solace before questions for once.
John, his face buried in Rodney’s neck, drew in a stuttering breath that was all sleep, sweat and scientist. He returned the hug with force, allowing himself a few seconds to enjoy it before his body caught up and made it clear to the other man that this hug meant more than just comfort between friends.
He was still trembling and he hadn’t gotten control of his breathing when Rodney loosened the hug slightly and began rubbing his hands over John’s back and murmuring soothing nothings. The gentle puffs of air against John’s neck and ear were enough to make his previously terror numbed body sit up and take notice. John sighed and clung on for a few more seconds of contact with Rodney before he noticed the soldier’s growing erection.
Moments later the scientist shifted slightly and then stiffened. ‘Here it comes,’ thought John stepping back from Rodney, eyes firmly on the floor not wanting to see the hurt and disappointment on his friend’s face.
“John?”
The unfamiliar use of his name nearly had his eyes flicking up in surprise but he balked at the last minute. He hadn’t had more than two hours sleep a night in nearly a month and he really wasn’t up to dealing with this right now. He’d been broken by his own fucked up psyche, just ask him anything and he’d talk. Was Atlantis really destroyed? Oh hell no! How do we get to Earth? Let me draw you a map. Are you in love with your Chief Science Officer? You betcha.
“I’ll…” he croaked, his voice breaking and trailing off before the sentence even formed in his head. There really was nothing he could say without completely giving away his feelings. He turned to leave but a strong hand on his arm stopped him, pulling him back round to face the other man.
“Look at me,” ordered Rodney, the grip on his bicep tightening. When John didn’t obey he grabbed the side of John’s face, thumb under his chin, and forced his head up. John closed his eyes and Rodney sighed, he could almost hear the other man’s eyes rolling. Why couldn’t he just let him go and forget this whole thing never happened? John would pretend it was part of some dream, one more pleasant than any he’d had in weeks. ‘Well, more pleasant up to this awful silence and the part where he’d ruined a really good friendship,’ he thought ruefully.
‘Please let me go,’ he begged silently. Rodney sighed again and the hand on his face shifted slightly. He heard the rustle of fabric and expected the hand on his arm to disappear. What he felt was the soft brush of lips against his own. John’s eyes snapped open and his head jerked as Rodney pulled back.
“Thought that might work,” he muttered, moistening his lips with his tongue. “Talk to me John.”
“Guh,” answered John, his eyes not leaving Rodney’s mouth.
“Very eloquent. Now let’s try real words,” said the scientist, the sarcasm in his voice belied by the concern evident in his eyes when John finally managed to drag his gaze upward. Rodney was still gripping John’s arm as though he was unsure if he might bolt, but the soldier knew his legs weren’t working any better than his mouth. In fact he seemed to have lost all higher brain function.
“Kiss.”
“Yes, that is a word.”
“You kissed me,” croaked John.
“You noticed that huh? Are you going to tell me what this is all about?”
“You kissed me.”
“Yes, yes. We’ve established that,” said Rodney rolling his eyes and waving the hand not holding John’s bicep in a death grip. “Shall we move past that and try for why you’re here?”
“I killed you,” John murmured unable to look away from Rodney’s eyes. He knew he was making no sense but he couldn’t make his brain stop whirling like a frightened bird long enough to work. Rodney had kissed him and now he was looking at him with wide blue eyes that showed concern and worry and, if John was reading things right, possibly something more than friendship. He’d always thought Rodney was a terrible liar, but if he’d kept that hidden John was never playing poker with him.
“I’m not dead, John,” Rodney pointed out quietly, as he pulled the solider towards his narrow bed.
“In my dream, I killed you,” answered John, allowing his body to be led to the bed. In his fantasies that involved Rodney and a bed, John was suave and sexy and in control, in the real world he found he was a shambling wreck, brain too befuddled to work and body too exhausted to compensate. Rodney pulled him down so they were sitting on the edge of the narrow bunk, shoulders and hips touching.
“Tell me,” said the scientist quietly, a hand on the soldier’s knee.
“I was a Wraith,” whispered John, shuddering. He could still feel the rush as he jammed his hand into Rodney’s chest and pulled the life from him. His Wraith dream-self had growled with anticipation and slowed its feeding, savoring its meal. He’d felt the delicious burn of Rodney’s life energy flowing along his arm as he watched with pleasure the years pass on the scientist’s terrified face. The final seconds of Rodney’s life were sweet and filled with regret as they left him, his lifeless body slumping to the floor. John had thrown back his head in ecstasy before his sense of self had flooded back and he’d reeled in horror at what he’d done, snapping in to supposed wakefulness as his eyes fell on the withered body at his feet.
He could feel the tears pricking in his eyes again and he brought his hands up to his face. He felt fingers wrapping round his wrists as Rodney firmly pulled his hands down. Once his face was bared, his wrists held fast in a big hand, an arm slipped round his shoulder and turned him against the warm body next to him. It was then the damn broke and he sobbed.
He hadn’t cried like this in years and he would have liked to imagine it was just sleep deprivation but he knew it was much more than that. He’d finally admitted to himself that his feelings for Rodney had changed from the lust he’d been gritting his teeth against since Antarctica to something he was pretty much sure was love, when the dreams had started. He’d been functioning in an exhausted daze for weeks and it was only good luck, and his careful use of some black market stims that they were all still alive. But it couldn’t go on.
“I’ve been dreaming of you dying for weeks,” he eventually forced out between hiccupping breaths. “This was the worst.” Rodney smoothed a hand down his back and kissed the top of his head. Abrasive and intolerant he may be, but stupid he wasn't. Rodney knew John needed to talk and wasn't about to interrupt him.
“Every time I close my eyes I see you dying and its killing me.” John took another shuddering breath and turned to gaze pleadingly into Rodney’s eyes.
“Make it stop, Rodney. Fix me.”
He buried his face in the security of the scientist’s neck, slipping his arms around the man’s waist, wishing he could stay like this forever.
“Why would I be able to fix you?” asked Rodney gently into his hair.
“Because you’re a genius, stupid,” replied John with a wet, gulping laugh. Rodney palmed his face again and lifted his head.
“Why would I be able to fix you?” he repeated more firmly.
“Because…” John took a deep breath. It was all very well having what amounted to a breakdown in front of a friend, but telling him how you really felt about him was another matter. Even with what he thought he’d read in the other man’s eyes it was still a risk, and he was in no shape to calculate odds.
“Tell me,” Rodney said again, never blinking. ‘Well that’s staring contests off the list along with the poker,’ thought John. He tried to drop his eyes again but the hand on his chin was firm. OK, moment of truth here.
“I care about you, definitely more than I should, and I can’t stop it. I’ve tried but it won’t go away.” There, said it, well mostly. No declaration of undying love but it was enough to leave him feeling stripped naked in front of his friend. Rodney held his gaze, eyes wide but unreadable. John’s heart clenched and he waited to be given the ‘I’m really flattered but’ speech.
He was about to stand and drag himself off to die of humiliation when the hand on his chin slid round to the back of his neck. Finally closing his eyes Rodney leant forward and kissed him again. This time it wasn’t a chaste brush of lips.
John opened his mouth at the first touch of Rodney’s tongue and moaned when the other man took full advantage of his action. He slipped his arms around Rodney and melted into the other man’s body, desperately returning the kiss. Oh god, this was more like it. He was acting like some inexperienced teenager rather than the suave, sophisticated flyboy he had imagined, but hey, kissing. Rodney pulled back eventually, breathing heavily, and John heard himself whimper. He winced inwardly at how pathetic he sounded.
“Me too,” Rodney finally whispered, his grin as sappy as the one John knew was plastered all over his own face.
“How long?” asked John, after a few moments of pleading with his vocal chords to get with the program.
“Since just before you did your Slim Pickens impression with the hive ship,” admitted the scientist, trying for fun but his eyes were full of painful memories.
“I’m sorry,” breathed John, suddenly overwhelmed with how much his flippant goodbye must have hurt Rodney, how much it had hurt him if he was honest with himself. Rodney’s hand tightened on his neck.
“Next time we’ll say goodbye properly,” promised Rodney with mock humor. John knew it was as good a promise of forever that either of them could ever give. They leaned toward each other again just as John suddenly found himself overwhelmed by a surprise attack from a jaw popping yawn.
“Am I boring you?” laughed Rodney with a raised eyebrow.
“No I…” John began.
“It’s ok. You need to sleep,” soothed the other man, a hand on his cheek. He turned his head into the hand, kissing the palm, before smiling at Rodney. He stood, turning toward the door, too tired to argue.
“Where do you think you’re going?” demanded Rodney before he’d taken more than three shuffling steps.
“I’m going to my room like you said,” John answered in confusion.
“That’s not what I said. I said you need to sleep,” Rodney pointed out as John turned to face him and wobbled a bit.
“How can I fix you if you’re not here?” said the scientist slowly in his best ‘you’re as dumb as a stick’ tone.
“Oh!” John broke into a grin while tilting slightly to the left.
“Yes, oh. Now come to bed,” he ordered, pulling off his t-shirt before slipping under the covers. John felt oddly shy as he began to remove his own clothes, not sure he was really ready to lie down with a mostly naked Rodney. It all seemed a bit clinical suddenly, not what he had in mind for their first night together.
“Hey,” demanded the scientist, waving his hand in front of John’s face and the soldier smiled. This was the Rodney and John show; of course it wouldn’t be some hearts and flowers romance. Sarcasm, shouting and sex, really hot sex if the kiss was anything to go by, would be more their style. Rodney was right, as usual, he thought as another massive yawn split his face, the sex would have to wait. He was just about ready to sleep where he dropped. John toed off his shoes, and pulled off his pants. Slipping his t-shirt over his head, he lay down on the bed and Rodney pulled the covers over him. Still slightly ill at ease, John didn’t quite know quite where to put his limbs and he wriggled, trying to get comfortable.
“For god’s sake,” griped his bedmate and pulled John into a sprawl across his chest. Suddenly it wasn’t awkward any more. John’s head fit perfectly into the hollow of Rodney’s shoulder, his arm draped easily across the other man’s stomach and his leg wrapped comfortably over Rodney’s thigh. Gentle fingers lazily stroked the nape of his neck and small breaths ruffled his hair and he realized just how tired he really was when his body found this soothing rather than arousing. He sighed, closing his eyes.
He flinched as images of a Wraith-drained Rodney flashed through his mind when he began to drift to sleep. Arms tightened reflexively round him, drawing him firmly against the warm body next to him and he hugged back tightly. He knew the nightmares wouldn’t stop with the flick of some mental switch; his neuroses wouldn’t be kissed better, no matter how great Rodney was with his mouth. But he was wrapped in the man’s arms, in his bed and through the fog of exhaustion he felt happy for the first time in months.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
“Sleeping now,” stated Rodney quietly, but John felt the kiss to the top of his head and smiled as he drifted into oblivion.
He drew in a ragged gulp of air and scrubbed a trembling hand across his face, finding it wet with more than chilled perspiration. He stood on wobbly legs and stumbled to the bathroom, resigned to not getting anymore sleep tonight. He bent over the sink and splashed cold water on his face then straightened up and looked in the mirror, expecting the reflection of his haggard features to greet him. The pale face of a Wraith laughed mockingly into his eyes.
With a scream still on his lips, he shot straight out of bed, fully awake, shaking and panting for air. He was fumbling his clothes on, tears streaming down his face, before he even realized what he was doing. It didn’t matter that it was the middle of the night, it didn’t matter that Rodney would be asleep and he didn’t care that he was a mess. He was out of the door and down the corridor before he had time to wonder if he was really awake this time.
He paused and forced himself to turn his head to catch his fuzzy reflection in Atlantis’s dull metallic wall. He looked like death, but thankfully human. He shuddered as he remembered the Wraith looking back at him from the bathroom mirror. The Wraith he had been in his dream.
The Wraith that had sucked the life out of McKay.
He thought frantically at the chime of Rodney’s door before he even rounded the corner of the corridor and kept it sounding as he approached. The door opened just as he skidded to a halt in front of it to reveal the sleep rumpled scientist wearing boxers and a hastily donned t-shirt.
“What now, Colonel?” asked the exasperated scientist, his eyes slits against the bright light of the corridor.
John tried to draw a breath to answer but it turned into a gulping sob. McKay’s eyes opened in shock at the sound and he finally registered his friend’s pale, tear soaked face. John looked more like a terrified child than a highly trained fighter pilot and McKay responded on instinct as he took hold of the Colonel’s arm, pulling him inside his quarters. The door slid shut behind them as Rodney enfolded John in a fierce hug, offering solace before questions for once.
John, his face buried in Rodney’s neck, drew in a stuttering breath that was all sleep, sweat and scientist. He returned the hug with force, allowing himself a few seconds to enjoy it before his body caught up and made it clear to the other man that this hug meant more than just comfort between friends.
He was still trembling and he hadn’t gotten control of his breathing when Rodney loosened the hug slightly and began rubbing his hands over John’s back and murmuring soothing nothings. The gentle puffs of air against John’s neck and ear were enough to make his previously terror numbed body sit up and take notice. John sighed and clung on for a few more seconds of contact with Rodney before he noticed the soldier’s growing erection.
Moments later the scientist shifted slightly and then stiffened. ‘Here it comes,’ thought John stepping back from Rodney, eyes firmly on the floor not wanting to see the hurt and disappointment on his friend’s face.
“John?”
The unfamiliar use of his name nearly had his eyes flicking up in surprise but he balked at the last minute. He hadn’t had more than two hours sleep a night in nearly a month and he really wasn’t up to dealing with this right now. He’d been broken by his own fucked up psyche, just ask him anything and he’d talk. Was Atlantis really destroyed? Oh hell no! How do we get to Earth? Let me draw you a map. Are you in love with your Chief Science Officer? You betcha.
“I’ll…” he croaked, his voice breaking and trailing off before the sentence even formed in his head. There really was nothing he could say without completely giving away his feelings. He turned to leave but a strong hand on his arm stopped him, pulling him back round to face the other man.
“Look at me,” ordered Rodney, the grip on his bicep tightening. When John didn’t obey he grabbed the side of John’s face, thumb under his chin, and forced his head up. John closed his eyes and Rodney sighed, he could almost hear the other man’s eyes rolling. Why couldn’t he just let him go and forget this whole thing never happened? John would pretend it was part of some dream, one more pleasant than any he’d had in weeks. ‘Well, more pleasant up to this awful silence and the part where he’d ruined a really good friendship,’ he thought ruefully.
‘Please let me go,’ he begged silently. Rodney sighed again and the hand on his face shifted slightly. He heard the rustle of fabric and expected the hand on his arm to disappear. What he felt was the soft brush of lips against his own. John’s eyes snapped open and his head jerked as Rodney pulled back.
“Thought that might work,” he muttered, moistening his lips with his tongue. “Talk to me John.”
“Guh,” answered John, his eyes not leaving Rodney’s mouth.
“Very eloquent. Now let’s try real words,” said the scientist, the sarcasm in his voice belied by the concern evident in his eyes when John finally managed to drag his gaze upward. Rodney was still gripping John’s arm as though he was unsure if he might bolt, but the soldier knew his legs weren’t working any better than his mouth. In fact he seemed to have lost all higher brain function.
“Kiss.”
“Yes, that is a word.”
“You kissed me,” croaked John.
“You noticed that huh? Are you going to tell me what this is all about?”
“You kissed me.”
“Yes, yes. We’ve established that,” said Rodney rolling his eyes and waving the hand not holding John’s bicep in a death grip. “Shall we move past that and try for why you’re here?”
“I killed you,” John murmured unable to look away from Rodney’s eyes. He knew he was making no sense but he couldn’t make his brain stop whirling like a frightened bird long enough to work. Rodney had kissed him and now he was looking at him with wide blue eyes that showed concern and worry and, if John was reading things right, possibly something more than friendship. He’d always thought Rodney was a terrible liar, but if he’d kept that hidden John was never playing poker with him.
“I’m not dead, John,” Rodney pointed out quietly, as he pulled the solider towards his narrow bed.
“In my dream, I killed you,” answered John, allowing his body to be led to the bed. In his fantasies that involved Rodney and a bed, John was suave and sexy and in control, in the real world he found he was a shambling wreck, brain too befuddled to work and body too exhausted to compensate. Rodney pulled him down so they were sitting on the edge of the narrow bunk, shoulders and hips touching.
“Tell me,” said the scientist quietly, a hand on the soldier’s knee.
“I was a Wraith,” whispered John, shuddering. He could still feel the rush as he jammed his hand into Rodney’s chest and pulled the life from him. His Wraith dream-self had growled with anticipation and slowed its feeding, savoring its meal. He’d felt the delicious burn of Rodney’s life energy flowing along his arm as he watched with pleasure the years pass on the scientist’s terrified face. The final seconds of Rodney’s life were sweet and filled with regret as they left him, his lifeless body slumping to the floor. John had thrown back his head in ecstasy before his sense of self had flooded back and he’d reeled in horror at what he’d done, snapping in to supposed wakefulness as his eyes fell on the withered body at his feet.
He could feel the tears pricking in his eyes again and he brought his hands up to his face. He felt fingers wrapping round his wrists as Rodney firmly pulled his hands down. Once his face was bared, his wrists held fast in a big hand, an arm slipped round his shoulder and turned him against the warm body next to him. It was then the damn broke and he sobbed.
He hadn’t cried like this in years and he would have liked to imagine it was just sleep deprivation but he knew it was much more than that. He’d finally admitted to himself that his feelings for Rodney had changed from the lust he’d been gritting his teeth against since Antarctica to something he was pretty much sure was love, when the dreams had started. He’d been functioning in an exhausted daze for weeks and it was only good luck, and his careful use of some black market stims that they were all still alive. But it couldn’t go on.
“I’ve been dreaming of you dying for weeks,” he eventually forced out between hiccupping breaths. “This was the worst.” Rodney smoothed a hand down his back and kissed the top of his head. Abrasive and intolerant he may be, but stupid he wasn't. Rodney knew John needed to talk and wasn't about to interrupt him.
“Every time I close my eyes I see you dying and its killing me.” John took another shuddering breath and turned to gaze pleadingly into Rodney’s eyes.
“Make it stop, Rodney. Fix me.”
He buried his face in the security of the scientist’s neck, slipping his arms around the man’s waist, wishing he could stay like this forever.
“Why would I be able to fix you?” asked Rodney gently into his hair.
“Because you’re a genius, stupid,” replied John with a wet, gulping laugh. Rodney palmed his face again and lifted his head.
“Why would I be able to fix you?” he repeated more firmly.
“Because…” John took a deep breath. It was all very well having what amounted to a breakdown in front of a friend, but telling him how you really felt about him was another matter. Even with what he thought he’d read in the other man’s eyes it was still a risk, and he was in no shape to calculate odds.
“Tell me,” Rodney said again, never blinking. ‘Well that’s staring contests off the list along with the poker,’ thought John. He tried to drop his eyes again but the hand on his chin was firm. OK, moment of truth here.
“I care about you, definitely more than I should, and I can’t stop it. I’ve tried but it won’t go away.” There, said it, well mostly. No declaration of undying love but it was enough to leave him feeling stripped naked in front of his friend. Rodney held his gaze, eyes wide but unreadable. John’s heart clenched and he waited to be given the ‘I’m really flattered but’ speech.
He was about to stand and drag himself off to die of humiliation when the hand on his chin slid round to the back of his neck. Finally closing his eyes Rodney leant forward and kissed him again. This time it wasn’t a chaste brush of lips.
John opened his mouth at the first touch of Rodney’s tongue and moaned when the other man took full advantage of his action. He slipped his arms around Rodney and melted into the other man’s body, desperately returning the kiss. Oh god, this was more like it. He was acting like some inexperienced teenager rather than the suave, sophisticated flyboy he had imagined, but hey, kissing. Rodney pulled back eventually, breathing heavily, and John heard himself whimper. He winced inwardly at how pathetic he sounded.
“Me too,” Rodney finally whispered, his grin as sappy as the one John knew was plastered all over his own face.
“How long?” asked John, after a few moments of pleading with his vocal chords to get with the program.
“Since just before you did your Slim Pickens impression with the hive ship,” admitted the scientist, trying for fun but his eyes were full of painful memories.
“I’m sorry,” breathed John, suddenly overwhelmed with how much his flippant goodbye must have hurt Rodney, how much it had hurt him if he was honest with himself. Rodney’s hand tightened on his neck.
“Next time we’ll say goodbye properly,” promised Rodney with mock humor. John knew it was as good a promise of forever that either of them could ever give. They leaned toward each other again just as John suddenly found himself overwhelmed by a surprise attack from a jaw popping yawn.
“Am I boring you?” laughed Rodney with a raised eyebrow.
“No I…” John began.
“It’s ok. You need to sleep,” soothed the other man, a hand on his cheek. He turned his head into the hand, kissing the palm, before smiling at Rodney. He stood, turning toward the door, too tired to argue.
“Where do you think you’re going?” demanded Rodney before he’d taken more than three shuffling steps.
“I’m going to my room like you said,” John answered in confusion.
“That’s not what I said. I said you need to sleep,” Rodney pointed out as John turned to face him and wobbled a bit.
“How can I fix you if you’re not here?” said the scientist slowly in his best ‘you’re as dumb as a stick’ tone.
“Oh!” John broke into a grin while tilting slightly to the left.
“Yes, oh. Now come to bed,” he ordered, pulling off his t-shirt before slipping under the covers. John felt oddly shy as he began to remove his own clothes, not sure he was really ready to lie down with a mostly naked Rodney. It all seemed a bit clinical suddenly, not what he had in mind for their first night together.
“Hey,” demanded the scientist, waving his hand in front of John’s face and the soldier smiled. This was the Rodney and John show; of course it wouldn’t be some hearts and flowers romance. Sarcasm, shouting and sex, really hot sex if the kiss was anything to go by, would be more their style. Rodney was right, as usual, he thought as another massive yawn split his face, the sex would have to wait. He was just about ready to sleep where he dropped. John toed off his shoes, and pulled off his pants. Slipping his t-shirt over his head, he lay down on the bed and Rodney pulled the covers over him. Still slightly ill at ease, John didn’t quite know quite where to put his limbs and he wriggled, trying to get comfortable.
“For god’s sake,” griped his bedmate and pulled John into a sprawl across his chest. Suddenly it wasn’t awkward any more. John’s head fit perfectly into the hollow of Rodney’s shoulder, his arm draped easily across the other man’s stomach and his leg wrapped comfortably over Rodney’s thigh. Gentle fingers lazily stroked the nape of his neck and small breaths ruffled his hair and he realized just how tired he really was when his body found this soothing rather than arousing. He sighed, closing his eyes.
He flinched as images of a Wraith-drained Rodney flashed through his mind when he began to drift to sleep. Arms tightened reflexively round him, drawing him firmly against the warm body next to him and he hugged back tightly. He knew the nightmares wouldn’t stop with the flick of some mental switch; his neuroses wouldn’t be kissed better, no matter how great Rodney was with his mouth. But he was wrapped in the man’s arms, in his bed and through the fog of exhaustion he felt happy for the first time in months.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
“Sleeping now,” stated Rodney quietly, but John felt the kiss to the top of his head and smiled as he drifted into oblivion.
