Fix Me - Chapter 2/3
Mar. 24th, 2007 11:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
anyanka_egTitle: Fix Me
Author: Anyanka_eg
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: McShep
Warnings: Only the usual warnings for hot man love
Pairing: McShep
Warnings: Only the usual warnings 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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Rodney awoke in stages, drifting slowly back to reality in the early Atlantis dawn. His body protested a night sleeping on his back, muscles cramping with a dull ache he’d be feeling for the rest of the day. His throat felt dry and raw as he swallowed and he realized he’d probably been snoring. He was too warm and his left arm was numb. Brief seconds of panic followed, with thoughts of premature heart attacks, before he realized he had other symptoms.
There was hair tickling his chin, an arm was thrown across his chest, a muscled leg pinned his thigh and he was pretty sure there was drool on his shoulder.
He smiled, shifting slightly to ease his aching back, careful not to wake the comatose military commander plastered to his side. John murmured something unintelligible, snuffling close into Rodney’s neck, before slipping back into deep sleep. The man was adorable.
Not that he would be admitting that out loud. To anyone. Ever.
Despite their ‘not quite’ declarations of the night before, Rodney still wasn’t entirely sure of his footing with Sheppard. He had no doubt about his own feelings, but the soldier was, well, a soldier. Of course he’d felt the tension building between them for months, he just didn’t think the Colonel would ever acknowledge it. He might have opened up last night but Rodney was man enough to admit he’d forced the issue, pressing the man for answers when he was hardly able to stand, let alone manage close questioning.
The kiss had been mind blowing though.
He was lazily contemplating the portions of Sheppard’s body he could see, when the pins and needles started. His left arm, flooded with blood now that the other man had shifted his head, felt like it was covered with hot ice. He gritted his teeth and tried to move slowly to ease the pain, but motor control, it seemed, had gone the same way as sensation. His arm flailed alarmingly and smacked into the back of John’s head.
“Mwah,” grunted the soldier, jerking awake.
“Sorry. Pins and needles,” murmured Rodney sheepishly.
“Wha…?” John tried again.
“My arm had gone numb. It’s fine now. Go back to sleep,” Rodney soothed. He stroked clumsy circles on the back of his bedmate’s neck with numb fingers and John relaxed back into his shoulder. Rodney thought he had drifted back to sleep until he spoke.
“What time is it?”
“Seven thirty.”
“Shit!” John started to roll away but Rodney pulled him back to his side.
“Where are you going?”
“I’ve got a briefing in an half an hour,” said the Colonel, trying to pull back again. Rodney allowed him to draw away slightly, before stilling him with a hand around his waist.
“No you don’t,” said Rodney, hurt by John’s desperation to get away.
“I’m meeting Elizabeth about PX2-3572,” answered the soldier wearily, still obviously exhausted despite his six hours of sleep. Rodney eyed John suspiciously for a handful of moments, finding nothing but tired resignation in his face.
“Elizabeth grounded you and cancelled the briefing,” he stated flatly, not quite knowing any other way to offer the news. “You fell asleep in yesterday’s debrief.”
John’s face dissolved into picture of despair, before he sank back down into the scientist’s body. Rodney’s arms folded around him without conscious thought, hands rubbing soothing patterns on his back, lips kissing sleep crazed hair. Sheppard took a shuddering breath and wrapped himself tightly around Rodney, as if he were trying to crawl inside and hide from the world.
“I thought it was a dream,” he said, so quietly that Rodney barely heard him.
The scientist tightened his arms and held his friend closer. Rodney felt anger rise, alongside the concern, at the thought that nobody but him had noticed John had been struggling to cope for weeks. Either everyone else had been willfully ignoring the signs, or he spent far too much time watching Atlantis’ Chief Military Officer. He sighed as he ruefully admitted to himself it was probably the latter. What he hadn’t expected was for the Colonel to turn to him when he finally broke.
Rodney had noticed occasional yawns in briefings over a month ago, a slight drop in the pace of his team leader’s stride on missions and the odd blank stare in response to teasing. Over the weeks it had gotten worse, much worse. Their banter had withered to nothing and John’s face was shuttered and shadowed, apart from when he hit the stims. Rodney didn’t know where he’d gotten them from, the crew on the Daedalus he supposed, but he’d noticed the very first time John had taken them. And it had scared the crap out of him.
“It’s probably for the best. You haven’t exactly been yourself,” muttered Rodney into Sheppard’s hair, wincing at how patronizing that sounded.
“I think I might have really screwed up this time, Rodney.”
And just what was he supposed to say to that? ‘Yes John, you’ve never done anything this monumentally stupid.’ Or maybe ‘not at all, we’ll have you fixed in a jiffy.’ It wasn't like it was the soldier’s fault, but then again he could have asked for help. Stupid man, stupid military.
“Yes well, you’ve got me to help you now haven’t you?” offered the scientist, plumping for self-aggrandizing humor. Better than meaningless platitudes, he could get those from Dr Heightmeyer.
John snorted.
Rodney sighed and rolled his eyes. He wasn’t sure what else he could say to the man. It seemed that being wrapped around him had helped John sleep. He’d been woken twice in the night by the Colonel twitching with the beginnings of a nightmare, only to have him relax when he tightened his arms and whispered soothing words into the dark. But he still had no idea what to do about the cause of the dreams, or if he was honest, what that was.
“Last night I said I’d help, and I will, but I’m not sure how to fix this,” Rodney admitted.
John lay still for a few moments before he pushed himself up and off Rodney and looked down at the scientist. His eyes were tired and red rimmed from last night’s water works and his skin still had a gray tinge to it. But there was something of the Sheppard sparkle lurking in his face and Rodney’s breath nearly caught in his throat.
“What sort of genius are you?” he said finally, his mouth twitching up at one corner. Rodney smacked John on the shoulder and he burst into laughter, the first genuine laugh his teammate had heard in nearly a month. Rodney’s mouth settled into a smile, as he swatted at the Colonel’s shoulder again.
“Idiot,” growled McKay, with mock indignation, as John flopped down on his side on the narrow bed. Rodney turned on his side to face the other man, his hip joint popping as he rolled. John winced in sympathy.
“You see what I put myself through for you?” griped the scientist melodramatically, waving his hand to emphasize his point. Rodney saw embarrassment and sadness cloud the other man’s eyes before he closed them.
“I’m sorry.”
Rodney decided that self pity wasn’t a good look on John Sheppard. He was the cocky flyboy, quipping in the face of danger, and watching him unravel, especially as no one else seemed to notice, had had Rodney’s stomach in knots for weeks. It was ironic really, he’d always assumed that his John induced ulcer would come from the soldier’s thoughtless heroics.
“Stop that, right now,” he ordered, more loudly than he’d intended.
John’s eyes snapped open, shock evident on his face. He hadn’t been expecting anger and suddenly Rodney realized he’d been handling this all wrong. Treating him with kid-gloves wasn’t the way forward and neither was letting him wallow in his feelings alone. It was time to take the bull by the horns.
“This has gone on long enough, don’t you think? You’re exhausted and you’ve obviously got some fucked up neurosis going on with the nightmares, but I not going to walk on eggshells around you. You want help? I give it to you, I’ll do anything you need, but you have to help yourself. So, you either talk to me or you talk to Heightmeyer.”
Well there it was, no going back now, John would either talk or leave. Rodney’s chest tightened at the thought of Sheppard leaving and dying by degrees, alone and afraid to ask for help, barred from off world missions. Or worse still, of him managing to convince everyone he was well enough to go back through the gate and exhaustion finally catching up with him in some spectacularly fatal fashion. Rodney wondered if he’d have the strength to insist to Elizabeth that the Colonel remain grounded.
“You think this is my fault?” asked John, incredulous.
“No, probably not, but you could have asked for help.” He was staying then. Rodney could work with that.
“I asked last night, didn’t I?”
“Only because you were so exhausted you forgot to be stupidly macho,” he argued. “I understand not admitting you need help, this is me after all, but you must have known you were a liability. Why else would you have taken the stims?”
“You knew? Is that why Elizabeth grounded me?” John started to roll off the bed, anger and betrayal tightening his jaw.
“Oh please, of course I knew,” spluttered Rodney, sitting up slightly, and catching Sheppard’s arm in a death grip to stop him pulling away. “A, I’m a genius and B, I spend more time than is healthy watching you. Crush of titanic proportions here! And no, despite my better judgment, I never told a soul. I figured you’d eventually ask for help or I’d be there to catch you when you fell.”
John’s eyes softened with affection and his mouth quirked up into a small, sad smile as he relaxed back onto the bed. Rodney, with more tenderness than he thought he’d ever felt, laid his hand on the man’s face, thumb brushing across his cheek. Really, if the science department ever saw him like this, ignoring the part where he was in bed with the Colonel, they’d be looking for pods somewhere in the bowels of the city.
“What did I do to deserve you?” wondered John, rolling closer and wrapping an arm around Rodney’s waist.
“I don’t know, but you must have been really bad,” smirked Rodney. His smile faltered slightly, as John held his gaze with the same melancholy affection.
“I mean it. I never imagined you wanted this or I would have…” Sheppard’s powers of speech seemed to fail him and he waved his hand vaguely in the air.
“Don’t ask, don’t tell?” queried out the scientist with a raised eyebrow.
“You know me and rules,” John said with a wry smile. “Besides, there’s no actual rule against doing it.”
“Jesuitical reasoning at its best,” snorted Rodney, rolling his eyes.
“I paid attention in Sunday school,” said Sheppard, suddenly looking every bit like a proud schoolboy.
“Of course you did,” Rodney nodded with mock seriousness. “You were out back with the girls, weren’t you?”
“And the boys,” he grinned back.
“You are bad, bad boy, John Sheppard.” He was also funny, and smart, and loyal, and completely fucked up.
Both men became silent, arms wrapped around each other, hands idly stroking. The Colonel frowned slightly, eyes unfocused, as he gnawed on a problem. Rodney decided not to force the issue and, for once, remained quiet. John had been laughing and flirting with him, a vast improvement on previous weeks, and he hadn’t had a ‘military moment’ and run screaming for the hills.
They were relaxed and comfortable together, although Rodney felt a slight edge of awkwardness as they lazed in bed, almost naked, but having kissed only once. It seemed strange to be this close with someone after just one kiss. Hell, he wasn’t really used to this sort of intimacy at all. Rodney was drifting in his own thoughts when John finally spoke.
“I was so scared, Rodney. Raging lust I could deal with, I’ve had a lot of practice since Antarctica, but when I realized it was more than that, I didn’t know what to do. I tried to ignore it but it wouldn’t go away. I needed to be around you, but it hurt so much that I couldn’t have you and I got mad. Not the appropriate emotion, but you know me, not entirely logical.”
John paused and Rodney was about to tell him that, ‘yes he was an emotional retard but he loved him anyway,’ when the Colonel raised a hand, stilling his thoughts.
“It was like it wasn't me and I knew I was being a complete idiot but I couldn’t stop it. Every time I opened my mouth to be encouraging, something really bitchy came out. I was terrified I’d push you away and then something bad would happen. Really, fatally bad. I tried to ignore you when we were together but you’re so damn distracting, Rodney.”
Distracting, eh? He’d been called many things but that wasn’t usually one of them, not in the way John meant it. Rodney found he liked the idea, probably more than was sensible. After all, a distracted Colonel, was a dangerous Colonel. On the other hand they’d been working together for over eighteen months now, both of them it seemed, harboring feelings of a highly unprofessional nature, and had managed to muddle through. He wanted that relationship back.
“I’ve missed you” Rodney admitted. “I missed you not being scared of the death glare; actually you stopped noticing it about three weeks ago. You stopped asking dumb questions you already knew the answers to, just to keep my mind off whatever ridiculous situation you’d gotten me into. You haven’t spoken to me at all in the last two weeks, except to grunt orders, and I miss the sarcasm. Hell, I even miss you flirting with everyone we meet.”
“You missed me flirting?” asked the soldier, bemused, before indignation settled on his face. “I don’t flirt with everyone.”
“Colonel, you’d flirt with that desk if you thought it’d get you your own way. And yes, I missed it. There’s only so much fun to be had mocking your hair.”
“Hey…”
“But, if you ever do it again, you’ll wish you hadn’t.” Rodney grinned wickedly as he spoke.
“Really?” John asked, eyes wide.
“You think I’m joking?” asked the scientist, laughing.
“I was actually wondering what form the punishment would take,” said Sheppard, eyes clouding with something more complicated than lust.
“Inventive, very inventive,” Rodney answered, surprised by how low and husky his voice sounded.
John’s breathing hitched and Rodney decided that he was going to make him repeat that tiny noise as often as possible. He ran the backs of his fingers up John’s side, and the other man shuddered. Rodney watched Sheppard’s body respond to the movement of his hand; muscles tensed under light skin as his fingers ran up a toned arm and over a firm shoulder. John’s eyes had gone almost completely green and Rodney found he couldn’t look away.
In all his fantasies their couplings had been frantic, adrenalin-fuelled encounters born out of simple lust, and possibly a more basic need to prove they were still alive. Even his subconscious, it seemed, couldn’t imagine the Colonel admitting anything beyond that. This lazy discovery of each other’s bodies, and he assumed that John would join in at some point, was not something he had expected. Not that he was complaining. Oh no, not complaining at all.
“Stop thinking,” John ordered, when the scientist’s hand stilled.
“Oh please. I’m like a shark. If I stop, I die,” grouched the scientist. “Besides you should be honored to have this amount of brain power focused on you.”
John merely raised an amused eyebrow, not buying the snark for one second. ‘Ok flyboy, be like that,’ thought Rodney. ‘I’ve still got one card up my proverbial sleeve.’
“So, I think I’d better call Elizabeth,” stated Rodney.
John made an inarticulate noise of protest in the back of his throat, his brain flailing for a foot hold in the conversation. Rodney grinned wolfishly at him before stretching over him, suppressing a shudder as their chests brushed together, and grabbed his radio off the nightstand. Fitting it on his ear, he rolled back next to John, tapping the button before dropping his hand to John’s chest.
“Elizabeth?” the scientist said, idly running his fingers through crisp chest hair, alternately tugging and smoothing. John’s eyes were wide with apprehension, his hand tight on Rodney’s bicep.
“Yes, Rodney?” came the slightly concerned response in his ear.
“I’m not going to be in the lab this morning, possibly not for the rest of the day,” he replied, his fingers brushing over John’s tightening nipple. Sheppard’s worry had been replaced by a look of smug satisfaction, even as he shuddered at the touch, that Rodney found faintly irritating. He pinched the nipple making the Colonel arch, mouth stretched in a silent moan.
“Are you feeling alright?” asked Elizabeth, in a surprised tone. Rodney hadn’t taken a day off in months, apart from illness enforced absences, and he really didn’t want Carson barreling into his quarters, Celtic concern flapping in his wake.
“Just a little tired.” Rodney brushed his thumb lightly along the outer edge of John’s ear and the smug look disappeared, with a quiet gasp. “I was awake most of the night struggling with a particularly stubborn ancient artifact.”
John snapped out his little bubble of bliss and indignantly mouthed the word ‘artifact’. Rodney stroked his ear again and mouthed the word ‘stubborn’. The soldier tried to look annoyed, but his eyes were heavy lidded and passion glazed. Rodney managed to wonder how he’d known John would have sensitive ears, even as he shuddered as Sheppard’s hand trailed over his shoulder.
“I hope you made some progress,” said Elizabeth, startling him slightly. Rodney cleared his throat.
“Ah yes, progress. I believe so. I’ll keep you posted,” replied the scientist, continuing to stroke John’s ear. The other man’s eyes had drifted closed, his face was slack with pleasure, and his breath escaped in small sighs. Talk about distracting.
“Good. Get some rest.” Elizabeth clicked off her radio.
Rodney raised his hand to take off his radio and John whimpered at the loss of contact. The sound shot straight to Rodney’s groin and all thoughts of slow discovery were forgotten. Tossing the headset in the general direction of the nightstand, he slid his hand around the back of John’s head and pulled the Colonel into a searing kiss. John groaned and opened his mouth, inviting Rodney into the wet heat. Their tongues slid slickly, as Rodney wove his fingers through the hair he’d been aching to touch since Antarctica.
Rodney felt John shift beneath him and then he was sprawled across a tantalizingly hard body, strong arms tight around his shoulders. John was making needy little noises in the back of his throat, his body straining to make contact with every inch of his scientist’s, and Rodney drove his knee between John’s legs, sliding his thigh slowly against the other man’s erection.
“Oh god, Rodney,” gasped John, pulling away from the kiss, his chest heaving.
Rodney crushed his hips into John’s again and Sheppard’s back arched, his neck taught and enticing. The scientist decided it would be self-defeating to refuse such an invitation and bit the stretched tendons, tasting salt and sex. John growled, the man actually growled, and Rodney nearly came there and then.
“Naked. I need you naked,” he panted, swiping his tongue over the reddened teeth marks and feeling an illicit thrill at this physical evidence of his possession. John’s eyes opened, unfocused and dazed, and Rodney just had to kiss him again. John’s legs twined around his, rolling their hips together, and his blunt nails raked up Rodney’s back. Mckay quivered and whimpered as John’s fingernails traced maddeningly light patterns over the nape of his neck. He buried his face in Sheppard’s throat, moaning as he lost himself in the scrape of blunt nails over sensitized skin. Goose bumps chased along his spine and he shivered uncontrollably.
“I knew you’d like that,” John whispered, his hot breath ghosting past Rodney’s ear, creating another round of tremors.
Rodney couldn’t answer. He was adrift on a sea of sensation, desperately clinging to John’s body, even as the other man drove him further from shore. It was too much and not nearly enough. He had to move, had to take back control, because John seemed to have lost any sense of urgency and Rodney really needed to finish this.
Fighting his instinct to just rub blindly against John’s hip, Rodney levered himself back, squirming his hand between their bodies and into John’s boxers. He stroked his thumb over the head of John’s cock and watched awestruck as his lover shuddered and gasped. Sheppard’s hand slipped from Rodney’s neck to his shoulder, his fingers clutching convulsively, as the scientist slid his hand further into the soft cotton shorts to tease John’s balls.
“Jesus, Rodney…that’s…like that…oh”
He squeezed a little tighter and the soldier’s body curled off the bed, hands scrabbling for purchase at Rodney’s back and the sheets of the bed. John was utterly gone in the moment; his eyes squeezed shut, a small frown of pleasure lining his forehead and mouth open, frozen in a strangled moan. Rodney had never seen anything so hot.
But it would be so much better without the boxers. He slid his hand out of John’s shorts, drawing a moan of protest from the other man. He licked Sheppard’s ear by way of distracting apology, grabbing the waistband of his shorts and pushing the boxers down. He abandoned them around the soldier’s knees and John managed to co-ordinate himself enough to kick them off.
Rodney took in the sight before him and his breath turned to cement in his chest. John lay sprawled beneath him in all his naked glory, and God, wasn't he glorious? Long, lean limbs, golden skin stretched over taught muscle, head thrown back and hips twisting upwards, straining for contact. Rodney skimmed a hand up the soldier’s thigh, skirting his groin, across his hip and then up his side. John’s cock twitched and his breathing caught. Rodney shifted his gaze up to met eyes dark with need, as John watched his own reaction to the touch. Rodney felt an answering twitch in his shorts.
“Please,” John pleaded, his voice a hoarse whisper.
Rodney clumsily shucked his own boxers, and rolled back into the soldier’s body, hissing as his dick pressed into John’s hip. He gripped John firmly, stroking the smooth hardness, as he sank his teeth into the exposed flesh of his neck, hard, twinning his earlier mark. This was heaven. He had the taste of John Sheppard in his mouth, his cock in his hand and the man shuddering underneath him, babbling incoherent obscenities. He nipped and licked up the Colonel’s neck, over the stubble of his jaw and drew him in to a rough kiss, grinding his erection against John’s hip again and again.
Through the fog of bright, brain melting pleasure, Rodney became aware of John urging him to move. He regretfully let go of John’s dick with a final firm stroke and shifted awkwardly, settling himself between the prone soldier’s legs, both men moaning as their bodies sank together. Their cocks rubbed between slick skin and tight muscle. He pulled John’s head back and buried his nose in the hollow between damp neck and slick collar bone, smelling the sharp tang of sweat and the musk of sex. John groaned, the sound rumbling through both of their chests. Rodney’s brain disengaged and his hips took up their own fierce rhythm.
“Fuck me. Please,” John begged, voice cracking.
“No,” murmured Rodney, licking the soldier’s neck and mindlessly grinding his hips into the body under him. He felt the other man go slack and his brain, addled though it was, suddenly caught up with what he’d said.
“Later. I’m too close,” he panted into his lover’s neck.
John whimpered, sliding a hand down Rodney’s back and grabbing his ass, pulling them even tighter together, whilst the fingers of his other hand left bruises on the scientist’s shoulder. John was twisting into him, gasping broken pleas into his shoulder, and pushing his hips up to meet each of Rodney’s thrusts.
Rodney could feel the need coiling in the base of his spine, tightening its grip, waiting to rip him apart. John’s breathing was shallow, his body shaking uncontrollably, as he teetered on the edge. He bit John’s ear and the soldier curled against him, shouting his name as he came in a hot flood between them. Rodney felt his body tighten and, oh god, oh god…
He was pretty sure he shouted John’s name as he came.
As he lay on top of John, shuddering through the after shocks, breathing slowly returning to normal, Rodney wondered if you could destroy your brain with sex. It seemed quite possible, if his cognitive skills right now were anything to go by. He was actually having to concentrate on breathing and no way were his eyelids up for working yet. Functioning limbs seemed an eternity away.
Still, he was willing to sacrifice IQ for sex, especially great sex with John. But for that he needed an un-suffocated lover …lover?...a slow smile spread across his face, and with that thought he started to roll off of Sheppard, but arms tightened around him.
“Stay,” whispered John.
“If I crush you to death, you have to explain it to Carson.”
John huffed a small laugh and squeezed Rodney tighter. Feeling utterly boneless and content, the scientist drifted in warm post-coital bliss, pondering the difference between the John Sheppard he saw every day and the one hiding underneath him now. Unbelievably ego-stroking as it was to have John surrender himself, he hoped that he could do some surrendering too at some point.
Several minutes later John squirmed underneath him and Rodney knew it was time to move. Besides, it was becoming apparent that the man had painfully bony hips. He slid to the Colonel’s side, he head resting on a firm shoulder.
“You didn’t have to move,” complained his pillow, stroking a hand up his back.
“You were turning blue,” he murmured, kissing the skin conveniently under his mouth.
“I was fine. It was nice.”
Rodney pushed himself up on wobbly arms and looked down at the other man. He was sprawled across the narrow bed, his body slick, his dog tags slewed over his shoulder and his face flushed. He was quite possibly the dictionary definition of debauched. John’s hair finally fit the situation that the rest of his body found itself in and Rodney debated letting his hair have its own way, keeping the man in bed for the rest of his life.
“What?” John questioned somewhat hesitantly. Rodney hoped more sleep, and some really hot sex, would have John back to full snarkiness soon or he might just have to shoot him. Still, it didn’t mean he shouldn’t torment him now.
“I was just wondering if I should ask Elizabeth to get me a bigger bed,” Rodney replied, smiling innocently.
“Elizabeth?” choked Sheppard.
He almost laughed at John’s expression. It was an equal mixture of abject panic and exquisite joy that Rodney was sure the human face shouldn’t be able to simultaneously display.
“Well, Colonel, it seems you need someone to keep you out of trouble, even in your sleep. And, much as I hate to admit it, Atlantis needs you, nearly as much as it needs me. Many more nights squashed up like this and I’ll be a cripple. So, bigger bed.”
John’s face was a battle ground again, as his inner, care-free male did the ‘lucky escape from commitment’ dance, and the rest of him looked utterly crushed. Really, it was like watching an emotional slot machine. Time to nudge for the jackpot.
“Besides, if we have the debilitating amount of sex I’m planning, we’ll really need that bed.”
Oh yes! Bells, whistles and flashing lights! John’s face finally settled on a single emotion, happiness, and he pulled Rodney down into an achingly tender kiss.
There was hair tickling his chin, an arm was thrown across his chest, a muscled leg pinned his thigh and he was pretty sure there was drool on his shoulder.
He smiled, shifting slightly to ease his aching back, careful not to wake the comatose military commander plastered to his side. John murmured something unintelligible, snuffling close into Rodney’s neck, before slipping back into deep sleep. The man was adorable.
Not that he would be admitting that out loud. To anyone. Ever.
Despite their ‘not quite’ declarations of the night before, Rodney still wasn’t entirely sure of his footing with Sheppard. He had no doubt about his own feelings, but the soldier was, well, a soldier. Of course he’d felt the tension building between them for months, he just didn’t think the Colonel would ever acknowledge it. He might have opened up last night but Rodney was man enough to admit he’d forced the issue, pressing the man for answers when he was hardly able to stand, let alone manage close questioning.
The kiss had been mind blowing though.
He was lazily contemplating the portions of Sheppard’s body he could see, when the pins and needles started. His left arm, flooded with blood now that the other man had shifted his head, felt like it was covered with hot ice. He gritted his teeth and tried to move slowly to ease the pain, but motor control, it seemed, had gone the same way as sensation. His arm flailed alarmingly and smacked into the back of John’s head.
“Mwah,” grunted the soldier, jerking awake.
“Sorry. Pins and needles,” murmured Rodney sheepishly.
“Wha…?” John tried again.
“My arm had gone numb. It’s fine now. Go back to sleep,” Rodney soothed. He stroked clumsy circles on the back of his bedmate’s neck with numb fingers and John relaxed back into his shoulder. Rodney thought he had drifted back to sleep until he spoke.
“What time is it?”
“Seven thirty.”
“Shit!” John started to roll away but Rodney pulled him back to his side.
“Where are you going?”
“I’ve got a briefing in an half an hour,” said the Colonel, trying to pull back again. Rodney allowed him to draw away slightly, before stilling him with a hand around his waist.
“No you don’t,” said Rodney, hurt by John’s desperation to get away.
“I’m meeting Elizabeth about PX2-3572,” answered the soldier wearily, still obviously exhausted despite his six hours of sleep. Rodney eyed John suspiciously for a handful of moments, finding nothing but tired resignation in his face.
“Elizabeth grounded you and cancelled the briefing,” he stated flatly, not quite knowing any other way to offer the news. “You fell asleep in yesterday’s debrief.”
John’s face dissolved into picture of despair, before he sank back down into the scientist’s body. Rodney’s arms folded around him without conscious thought, hands rubbing soothing patterns on his back, lips kissing sleep crazed hair. Sheppard took a shuddering breath and wrapped himself tightly around Rodney, as if he were trying to crawl inside and hide from the world.
“I thought it was a dream,” he said, so quietly that Rodney barely heard him.
The scientist tightened his arms and held his friend closer. Rodney felt anger rise, alongside the concern, at the thought that nobody but him had noticed John had been struggling to cope for weeks. Either everyone else had been willfully ignoring the signs, or he spent far too much time watching Atlantis’ Chief Military Officer. He sighed as he ruefully admitted to himself it was probably the latter. What he hadn’t expected was for the Colonel to turn to him when he finally broke.
Rodney had noticed occasional yawns in briefings over a month ago, a slight drop in the pace of his team leader’s stride on missions and the odd blank stare in response to teasing. Over the weeks it had gotten worse, much worse. Their banter had withered to nothing and John’s face was shuttered and shadowed, apart from when he hit the stims. Rodney didn’t know where he’d gotten them from, the crew on the Daedalus he supposed, but he’d noticed the very first time John had taken them. And it had scared the crap out of him.
“It’s probably for the best. You haven’t exactly been yourself,” muttered Rodney into Sheppard’s hair, wincing at how patronizing that sounded.
“I think I might have really screwed up this time, Rodney.”
And just what was he supposed to say to that? ‘Yes John, you’ve never done anything this monumentally stupid.’ Or maybe ‘not at all, we’ll have you fixed in a jiffy.’ It wasn't like it was the soldier’s fault, but then again he could have asked for help. Stupid man, stupid military.
“Yes well, you’ve got me to help you now haven’t you?” offered the scientist, plumping for self-aggrandizing humor. Better than meaningless platitudes, he could get those from Dr Heightmeyer.
John snorted.
Rodney sighed and rolled his eyes. He wasn’t sure what else he could say to the man. It seemed that being wrapped around him had helped John sleep. He’d been woken twice in the night by the Colonel twitching with the beginnings of a nightmare, only to have him relax when he tightened his arms and whispered soothing words into the dark. But he still had no idea what to do about the cause of the dreams, or if he was honest, what that was.
“Last night I said I’d help, and I will, but I’m not sure how to fix this,” Rodney admitted.
John lay still for a few moments before he pushed himself up and off Rodney and looked down at the scientist. His eyes were tired and red rimmed from last night’s water works and his skin still had a gray tinge to it. But there was something of the Sheppard sparkle lurking in his face and Rodney’s breath nearly caught in his throat.
“What sort of genius are you?” he said finally, his mouth twitching up at one corner. Rodney smacked John on the shoulder and he burst into laughter, the first genuine laugh his teammate had heard in nearly a month. Rodney’s mouth settled into a smile, as he swatted at the Colonel’s shoulder again.
“Idiot,” growled McKay, with mock indignation, as John flopped down on his side on the narrow bed. Rodney turned on his side to face the other man, his hip joint popping as he rolled. John winced in sympathy.
“You see what I put myself through for you?” griped the scientist melodramatically, waving his hand to emphasize his point. Rodney saw embarrassment and sadness cloud the other man’s eyes before he closed them.
“I’m sorry.”
Rodney decided that self pity wasn’t a good look on John Sheppard. He was the cocky flyboy, quipping in the face of danger, and watching him unravel, especially as no one else seemed to notice, had had Rodney’s stomach in knots for weeks. It was ironic really, he’d always assumed that his John induced ulcer would come from the soldier’s thoughtless heroics.
“Stop that, right now,” he ordered, more loudly than he’d intended.
John’s eyes snapped open, shock evident on his face. He hadn’t been expecting anger and suddenly Rodney realized he’d been handling this all wrong. Treating him with kid-gloves wasn’t the way forward and neither was letting him wallow in his feelings alone. It was time to take the bull by the horns.
“This has gone on long enough, don’t you think? You’re exhausted and you’ve obviously got some fucked up neurosis going on with the nightmares, but I not going to walk on eggshells around you. You want help? I give it to you, I’ll do anything you need, but you have to help yourself. So, you either talk to me or you talk to Heightmeyer.”
Well there it was, no going back now, John would either talk or leave. Rodney’s chest tightened at the thought of Sheppard leaving and dying by degrees, alone and afraid to ask for help, barred from off world missions. Or worse still, of him managing to convince everyone he was well enough to go back through the gate and exhaustion finally catching up with him in some spectacularly fatal fashion. Rodney wondered if he’d have the strength to insist to Elizabeth that the Colonel remain grounded.
“You think this is my fault?” asked John, incredulous.
“No, probably not, but you could have asked for help.” He was staying then. Rodney could work with that.
“I asked last night, didn’t I?”
“Only because you were so exhausted you forgot to be stupidly macho,” he argued. “I understand not admitting you need help, this is me after all, but you must have known you were a liability. Why else would you have taken the stims?”
“You knew? Is that why Elizabeth grounded me?” John started to roll off the bed, anger and betrayal tightening his jaw.
“Oh please, of course I knew,” spluttered Rodney, sitting up slightly, and catching Sheppard’s arm in a death grip to stop him pulling away. “A, I’m a genius and B, I spend more time than is healthy watching you. Crush of titanic proportions here! And no, despite my better judgment, I never told a soul. I figured you’d eventually ask for help or I’d be there to catch you when you fell.”
John’s eyes softened with affection and his mouth quirked up into a small, sad smile as he relaxed back onto the bed. Rodney, with more tenderness than he thought he’d ever felt, laid his hand on the man’s face, thumb brushing across his cheek. Really, if the science department ever saw him like this, ignoring the part where he was in bed with the Colonel, they’d be looking for pods somewhere in the bowels of the city.
“What did I do to deserve you?” wondered John, rolling closer and wrapping an arm around Rodney’s waist.
“I don’t know, but you must have been really bad,” smirked Rodney. His smile faltered slightly, as John held his gaze with the same melancholy affection.
“I mean it. I never imagined you wanted this or I would have…” Sheppard’s powers of speech seemed to fail him and he waved his hand vaguely in the air.
“Don’t ask, don’t tell?” queried out the scientist with a raised eyebrow.
“You know me and rules,” John said with a wry smile. “Besides, there’s no actual rule against doing it.”
“Jesuitical reasoning at its best,” snorted Rodney, rolling his eyes.
“I paid attention in Sunday school,” said Sheppard, suddenly looking every bit like a proud schoolboy.
“Of course you did,” Rodney nodded with mock seriousness. “You were out back with the girls, weren’t you?”
“And the boys,” he grinned back.
“You are bad, bad boy, John Sheppard.” He was also funny, and smart, and loyal, and completely fucked up.
Both men became silent, arms wrapped around each other, hands idly stroking. The Colonel frowned slightly, eyes unfocused, as he gnawed on a problem. Rodney decided not to force the issue and, for once, remained quiet. John had been laughing and flirting with him, a vast improvement on previous weeks, and he hadn’t had a ‘military moment’ and run screaming for the hills.
They were relaxed and comfortable together, although Rodney felt a slight edge of awkwardness as they lazed in bed, almost naked, but having kissed only once. It seemed strange to be this close with someone after just one kiss. Hell, he wasn’t really used to this sort of intimacy at all. Rodney was drifting in his own thoughts when John finally spoke.
“I was so scared, Rodney. Raging lust I could deal with, I’ve had a lot of practice since Antarctica, but when I realized it was more than that, I didn’t know what to do. I tried to ignore it but it wouldn’t go away. I needed to be around you, but it hurt so much that I couldn’t have you and I got mad. Not the appropriate emotion, but you know me, not entirely logical.”
John paused and Rodney was about to tell him that, ‘yes he was an emotional retard but he loved him anyway,’ when the Colonel raised a hand, stilling his thoughts.
“It was like it wasn't me and I knew I was being a complete idiot but I couldn’t stop it. Every time I opened my mouth to be encouraging, something really bitchy came out. I was terrified I’d push you away and then something bad would happen. Really, fatally bad. I tried to ignore you when we were together but you’re so damn distracting, Rodney.”
Distracting, eh? He’d been called many things but that wasn’t usually one of them, not in the way John meant it. Rodney found he liked the idea, probably more than was sensible. After all, a distracted Colonel, was a dangerous Colonel. On the other hand they’d been working together for over eighteen months now, both of them it seemed, harboring feelings of a highly unprofessional nature, and had managed to muddle through. He wanted that relationship back.
“I’ve missed you” Rodney admitted. “I missed you not being scared of the death glare; actually you stopped noticing it about three weeks ago. You stopped asking dumb questions you already knew the answers to, just to keep my mind off whatever ridiculous situation you’d gotten me into. You haven’t spoken to me at all in the last two weeks, except to grunt orders, and I miss the sarcasm. Hell, I even miss you flirting with everyone we meet.”
“You missed me flirting?” asked the soldier, bemused, before indignation settled on his face. “I don’t flirt with everyone.”
“Colonel, you’d flirt with that desk if you thought it’d get you your own way. And yes, I missed it. There’s only so much fun to be had mocking your hair.”
“Hey…”
“But, if you ever do it again, you’ll wish you hadn’t.” Rodney grinned wickedly as he spoke.
“Really?” John asked, eyes wide.
“You think I’m joking?” asked the scientist, laughing.
“I was actually wondering what form the punishment would take,” said Sheppard, eyes clouding with something more complicated than lust.
“Inventive, very inventive,” Rodney answered, surprised by how low and husky his voice sounded.
John’s breathing hitched and Rodney decided that he was going to make him repeat that tiny noise as often as possible. He ran the backs of his fingers up John’s side, and the other man shuddered. Rodney watched Sheppard’s body respond to the movement of his hand; muscles tensed under light skin as his fingers ran up a toned arm and over a firm shoulder. John’s eyes had gone almost completely green and Rodney found he couldn’t look away.
In all his fantasies their couplings had been frantic, adrenalin-fuelled encounters born out of simple lust, and possibly a more basic need to prove they were still alive. Even his subconscious, it seemed, couldn’t imagine the Colonel admitting anything beyond that. This lazy discovery of each other’s bodies, and he assumed that John would join in at some point, was not something he had expected. Not that he was complaining. Oh no, not complaining at all.
“Stop thinking,” John ordered, when the scientist’s hand stilled.
“Oh please. I’m like a shark. If I stop, I die,” grouched the scientist. “Besides you should be honored to have this amount of brain power focused on you.”
John merely raised an amused eyebrow, not buying the snark for one second. ‘Ok flyboy, be like that,’ thought Rodney. ‘I’ve still got one card up my proverbial sleeve.’
“So, I think I’d better call Elizabeth,” stated Rodney.
John made an inarticulate noise of protest in the back of his throat, his brain flailing for a foot hold in the conversation. Rodney grinned wolfishly at him before stretching over him, suppressing a shudder as their chests brushed together, and grabbed his radio off the nightstand. Fitting it on his ear, he rolled back next to John, tapping the button before dropping his hand to John’s chest.
“Elizabeth?” the scientist said, idly running his fingers through crisp chest hair, alternately tugging and smoothing. John’s eyes were wide with apprehension, his hand tight on Rodney’s bicep.
“Yes, Rodney?” came the slightly concerned response in his ear.
“I’m not going to be in the lab this morning, possibly not for the rest of the day,” he replied, his fingers brushing over John’s tightening nipple. Sheppard’s worry had been replaced by a look of smug satisfaction, even as he shuddered at the touch, that Rodney found faintly irritating. He pinched the nipple making the Colonel arch, mouth stretched in a silent moan.
“Are you feeling alright?” asked Elizabeth, in a surprised tone. Rodney hadn’t taken a day off in months, apart from illness enforced absences, and he really didn’t want Carson barreling into his quarters, Celtic concern flapping in his wake.
“Just a little tired.” Rodney brushed his thumb lightly along the outer edge of John’s ear and the smug look disappeared, with a quiet gasp. “I was awake most of the night struggling with a particularly stubborn ancient artifact.”
John snapped out his little bubble of bliss and indignantly mouthed the word ‘artifact’. Rodney stroked his ear again and mouthed the word ‘stubborn’. The soldier tried to look annoyed, but his eyes were heavy lidded and passion glazed. Rodney managed to wonder how he’d known John would have sensitive ears, even as he shuddered as Sheppard’s hand trailed over his shoulder.
“I hope you made some progress,” said Elizabeth, startling him slightly. Rodney cleared his throat.
“Ah yes, progress. I believe so. I’ll keep you posted,” replied the scientist, continuing to stroke John’s ear. The other man’s eyes had drifted closed, his face was slack with pleasure, and his breath escaped in small sighs. Talk about distracting.
“Good. Get some rest.” Elizabeth clicked off her radio.
Rodney raised his hand to take off his radio and John whimpered at the loss of contact. The sound shot straight to Rodney’s groin and all thoughts of slow discovery were forgotten. Tossing the headset in the general direction of the nightstand, he slid his hand around the back of John’s head and pulled the Colonel into a searing kiss. John groaned and opened his mouth, inviting Rodney into the wet heat. Their tongues slid slickly, as Rodney wove his fingers through the hair he’d been aching to touch since Antarctica.
Rodney felt John shift beneath him and then he was sprawled across a tantalizingly hard body, strong arms tight around his shoulders. John was making needy little noises in the back of his throat, his body straining to make contact with every inch of his scientist’s, and Rodney drove his knee between John’s legs, sliding his thigh slowly against the other man’s erection.
“Oh god, Rodney,” gasped John, pulling away from the kiss, his chest heaving.
Rodney crushed his hips into John’s again and Sheppard’s back arched, his neck taught and enticing. The scientist decided it would be self-defeating to refuse such an invitation and bit the stretched tendons, tasting salt and sex. John growled, the man actually growled, and Rodney nearly came there and then.
“Naked. I need you naked,” he panted, swiping his tongue over the reddened teeth marks and feeling an illicit thrill at this physical evidence of his possession. John’s eyes opened, unfocused and dazed, and Rodney just had to kiss him again. John’s legs twined around his, rolling their hips together, and his blunt nails raked up Rodney’s back. Mckay quivered and whimpered as John’s fingernails traced maddeningly light patterns over the nape of his neck. He buried his face in Sheppard’s throat, moaning as he lost himself in the scrape of blunt nails over sensitized skin. Goose bumps chased along his spine and he shivered uncontrollably.
“I knew you’d like that,” John whispered, his hot breath ghosting past Rodney’s ear, creating another round of tremors.
Rodney couldn’t answer. He was adrift on a sea of sensation, desperately clinging to John’s body, even as the other man drove him further from shore. It was too much and not nearly enough. He had to move, had to take back control, because John seemed to have lost any sense of urgency and Rodney really needed to finish this.
Fighting his instinct to just rub blindly against John’s hip, Rodney levered himself back, squirming his hand between their bodies and into John’s boxers. He stroked his thumb over the head of John’s cock and watched awestruck as his lover shuddered and gasped. Sheppard’s hand slipped from Rodney’s neck to his shoulder, his fingers clutching convulsively, as the scientist slid his hand further into the soft cotton shorts to tease John’s balls.
“Jesus, Rodney…that’s…like that…oh”
He squeezed a little tighter and the soldier’s body curled off the bed, hands scrabbling for purchase at Rodney’s back and the sheets of the bed. John was utterly gone in the moment; his eyes squeezed shut, a small frown of pleasure lining his forehead and mouth open, frozen in a strangled moan. Rodney had never seen anything so hot.
But it would be so much better without the boxers. He slid his hand out of John’s shorts, drawing a moan of protest from the other man. He licked Sheppard’s ear by way of distracting apology, grabbing the waistband of his shorts and pushing the boxers down. He abandoned them around the soldier’s knees and John managed to co-ordinate himself enough to kick them off.
Rodney took in the sight before him and his breath turned to cement in his chest. John lay sprawled beneath him in all his naked glory, and God, wasn't he glorious? Long, lean limbs, golden skin stretched over taught muscle, head thrown back and hips twisting upwards, straining for contact. Rodney skimmed a hand up the soldier’s thigh, skirting his groin, across his hip and then up his side. John’s cock twitched and his breathing caught. Rodney shifted his gaze up to met eyes dark with need, as John watched his own reaction to the touch. Rodney felt an answering twitch in his shorts.
“Please,” John pleaded, his voice a hoarse whisper.
Rodney clumsily shucked his own boxers, and rolled back into the soldier’s body, hissing as his dick pressed into John’s hip. He gripped John firmly, stroking the smooth hardness, as he sank his teeth into the exposed flesh of his neck, hard, twinning his earlier mark. This was heaven. He had the taste of John Sheppard in his mouth, his cock in his hand and the man shuddering underneath him, babbling incoherent obscenities. He nipped and licked up the Colonel’s neck, over the stubble of his jaw and drew him in to a rough kiss, grinding his erection against John’s hip again and again.
Through the fog of bright, brain melting pleasure, Rodney became aware of John urging him to move. He regretfully let go of John’s dick with a final firm stroke and shifted awkwardly, settling himself between the prone soldier’s legs, both men moaning as their bodies sank together. Their cocks rubbed between slick skin and tight muscle. He pulled John’s head back and buried his nose in the hollow between damp neck and slick collar bone, smelling the sharp tang of sweat and the musk of sex. John groaned, the sound rumbling through both of their chests. Rodney’s brain disengaged and his hips took up their own fierce rhythm.
“Fuck me. Please,” John begged, voice cracking.
“No,” murmured Rodney, licking the soldier’s neck and mindlessly grinding his hips into the body under him. He felt the other man go slack and his brain, addled though it was, suddenly caught up with what he’d said.
“Later. I’m too close,” he panted into his lover’s neck.
John whimpered, sliding a hand down Rodney’s back and grabbing his ass, pulling them even tighter together, whilst the fingers of his other hand left bruises on the scientist’s shoulder. John was twisting into him, gasping broken pleas into his shoulder, and pushing his hips up to meet each of Rodney’s thrusts.
Rodney could feel the need coiling in the base of his spine, tightening its grip, waiting to rip him apart. John’s breathing was shallow, his body shaking uncontrollably, as he teetered on the edge. He bit John’s ear and the soldier curled against him, shouting his name as he came in a hot flood between them. Rodney felt his body tighten and, oh god, oh god…
He was pretty sure he shouted John’s name as he came.
As he lay on top of John, shuddering through the after shocks, breathing slowly returning to normal, Rodney wondered if you could destroy your brain with sex. It seemed quite possible, if his cognitive skills right now were anything to go by. He was actually having to concentrate on breathing and no way were his eyelids up for working yet. Functioning limbs seemed an eternity away.
Still, he was willing to sacrifice IQ for sex, especially great sex with John. But for that he needed an un-suffocated lover …lover?...a slow smile spread across his face, and with that thought he started to roll off of Sheppard, but arms tightened around him.
“Stay,” whispered John.
“If I crush you to death, you have to explain it to Carson.”
John huffed a small laugh and squeezed Rodney tighter. Feeling utterly boneless and content, the scientist drifted in warm post-coital bliss, pondering the difference between the John Sheppard he saw every day and the one hiding underneath him now. Unbelievably ego-stroking as it was to have John surrender himself, he hoped that he could do some surrendering too at some point.
Several minutes later John squirmed underneath him and Rodney knew it was time to move. Besides, it was becoming apparent that the man had painfully bony hips. He slid to the Colonel’s side, he head resting on a firm shoulder.
“You didn’t have to move,” complained his pillow, stroking a hand up his back.
“You were turning blue,” he murmured, kissing the skin conveniently under his mouth.
“I was fine. It was nice.”
Rodney pushed himself up on wobbly arms and looked down at the other man. He was sprawled across the narrow bed, his body slick, his dog tags slewed over his shoulder and his face flushed. He was quite possibly the dictionary definition of debauched. John’s hair finally fit the situation that the rest of his body found itself in and Rodney debated letting his hair have its own way, keeping the man in bed for the rest of his life.
“What?” John questioned somewhat hesitantly. Rodney hoped more sleep, and some really hot sex, would have John back to full snarkiness soon or he might just have to shoot him. Still, it didn’t mean he shouldn’t torment him now.
“I was just wondering if I should ask Elizabeth to get me a bigger bed,” Rodney replied, smiling innocently.
“Elizabeth?” choked Sheppard.
He almost laughed at John’s expression. It was an equal mixture of abject panic and exquisite joy that Rodney was sure the human face shouldn’t be able to simultaneously display.
“Well, Colonel, it seems you need someone to keep you out of trouble, even in your sleep. And, much as I hate to admit it, Atlantis needs you, nearly as much as it needs me. Many more nights squashed up like this and I’ll be a cripple. So, bigger bed.”
John’s face was a battle ground again, as his inner, care-free male did the ‘lucky escape from commitment’ dance, and the rest of him looked utterly crushed. Really, it was like watching an emotional slot machine. Time to nudge for the jackpot.
“Besides, if we have the debilitating amount of sex I’m planning, we’ll really need that bed.”
Oh yes! Bells, whistles and flashing lights! John’s face finally settled on a single emotion, happiness, and he pulled Rodney down into an achingly tender kiss.
