![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kitchyTitle: The Seven Stages of Rodney's Coming Out Process
Author: Kitchyy
Rating: PG-NC-17
This Chapter: NC-17
Pairings: Eventual Sheppard/McKay
Warnings/Spoilers: Upto the End of Season 3, just to be safe
Summary for this chapter: Rodney knows exactly who he wants to share this with.
Disclaimer: So not mine. Never will be. Please also remember, this is totally unbeta'd so, yanno, mistakes are mine and I take full responsibility for them.
After a serious bout of writers block and ridiculous overtime at work it's finally done. Here, just--take it.
Previous Chapter
Stage Seven: Acceptance
It takes about three days for Rodney to mentally and emotionally scrape himself off the floor. He would have preferred a week to have this little breakdown, but there's too many things to do in Atlantis only he and Zelenka can do. He's maybe not so quick with his work as he usually is, but he thinks he's done an ok job, considering he just knocked his life into tiny shards and duct taped it back together again.
Rodney hasn't looked too far below his own surface much, there's always been so many other important things to focus on, like school, then work, and now Atlantis. There's always been distractions. He should have gotten all this out of his system at sixteen, and he feels a little guilty about that, too. Like he's looking back on his life and seeing all this wasted time.
So it feels strange, this... knowledge and understanding he now has about his feelings and who he really sees in the mirror these days. He isn't so much of a stranger to himself anymore. Now that he knows and he's finally admitting to himself that being... Gay, or at least bi is a part of his life he wants to get living, wants to experience all of it.
And he knows exactly who he wants to have that experience with.
***
He knocks on John's door. It's his last week of recovery, so he's moving around a lot better these days. John opens the door and Rodney smiles. "You feel like getting out of here for a while?"
"Oh, God, yes." John says heartily. He puts on boots and follows Rodney. "Um... Where are we going?"
Rodney grins, smug. "I may have asked permission for a puddle jumper this afternoon." John's eyes light up and Rodney gives himself a mental pat on the back. "I was thinking we could head over to the mainland, perhaps even do a little walking."
"Wow. I mean... Wow, Rodney, thanks. Hey, you feeling ok?" John asks with a teasing smile.
Rodney rounds the corner with John and glares. "Of course I am. I'm offering to walk, not do one of those ridiculous nine-hour hikes you and Ronon are always on about. Nothing strenuous."
One side of John's mouth slides up. "What, afraid a wounded man might beat you up the side of a mountain?"
"If it's you? Yes."
John chuckles. "At least you're honest."
Rodney dips his head and lets John take the lead as they head into the Jumper bay. "It's something I'm working on." He says quietly.
John gives him a curious look and Rodney points to Jumper four. "I was thinking you could drive since my skills are better suited for things like, oh, I don't know, saving the day, perhaps?"
"I can't argue with that today." John climbs in and sits in the driver's seat, all while smiling, and it's the fluttery-panic feeling all over again. This time Rodney accepts it, feels it instead of runs from it.
After fifteen minutes of flying and John so excited he looks like a puppy with his master back home from vacation they find a spot near the equator. It's all sandy beaches and low grass hills in the distance, with no one around for miles.
They walk for a bit. Rodney throws random pieces of grass at John, and John threatens to open the back hatch of the jumper on the way back and dump him in the ocean. They sit and watch the tide come in, and Rodney surprises John by pulling out a blanket and a little bit of food. Nothing impressive, just almost-turkey sandwiches and some bottled water, but John is impressed, and that's all that really matters.
"You know," John says, his head pillowed on his arm while looking up at the slowly darkening sky, "this whole afternoon has been really nice."
"Well, good. That's what I was aiming for." Rodney looks at John. He's sprawled comfortably and so at ease in his own body. Rodney wants that for himself, hopes that maybe he's finally getting there, too.
John sits up, wraps his arms loosely around his knees and looks over. "Why are you being so nice, Rodney?"
Rodney huffs. "I'm a nice person." John tilts his head and stares at him. "I am!" And Rodney belatedly realizes John is teasing him.
There's silence for a beat, then John snorts. "So, what's this trip really about?"
Rodney can only look back for so long. Eventually his eyes drop and he looks forlornly at the ocean. "Do you know the definition of insanity?"
John quirks a brow. "This conversation?"
Rodney wishes for a little of that grass he was throwing at John earlier. "Oh, Ha-ha. It's when you try the same thing over and over and expect a different result."
John looks thoughtful. "Einstein, right?"
Rodney rolls his eyes impatiently. "Yes, Einstein,"
"See? I knew you thought I was smart." John chuckles.
Rodney frowns. "That's not what I--"
John leans forward with a cute little pout. "I heard it, you can't take it back."
Flirting. John is flirting with him. Rodney feels his cheeks warm. Perhaps this won't go as bad as he feared.
His anxiety is still high, though. Honestly, he isn't ready for this conversation. But there's never a good time for this, is there? He closes his eyes, waits the space of a heartbeat and opens them again. It's just a blink, and even though the angle of the sun may have changed minutely and the spartan cloud cover has drifted ever so slightly with the wind, everything's the same. Perhaps after all this, and everything he knows now, he's still the same person, too. "I've realized a lot of things recently. About myself I mean, and I'm not really good with... explaining myself in any relative terminology when it comes to emotions. So I'm sorry in advance if some of this comes out all wrong."
John takes his wrist and squeezes it reassuringly. John has always preferred touching to talking about this stuff. "So just take it slow, then. What have you realized?"
Rodney slides John's hand over the bones of his wrist and up, turns his palm over so their fingers tangle together. "This. I think that... this... is something I want."
John stills and the slouch he uses like a shield bows his shoulders. His eyes have gone sharp and calculating. "Would this be in general or... ?"
Rodney's actually said it out loud. He tries to keep the small bubble of hysteria at bay. "No. And I think I've ignored it for a long time. Longer than I care to admit, really."
"Wait, so you--" John looks like he's at a loss for words and stares dumbly at their linked hands for a long time, a range of emotions too fast to read flit over his features. Rodney counts his heartbeats which come far too quickly. Waiting for John to say something is like having his foot poised over a precipice. He doesn't know if he'll float or fall.
Finally, John let's go of his hand, stands and turns away from him. Puts a hand over his forehead. Not fast enough to hide a deep frown and the sharp sting of fear in John's eyes. "Rodney, I..."
Rodney gets up too, his heart is thudding in his chest. "Yeah?"
John turns and doesn't meet his eyes, but he's schooled his features into an easygoing mask of politeness. He pats Rodney on the shoulder, like a friend. "I'm glad you told me. It took a lot of guts."
What the hell is that supposed to mean? The silence stretches, becomes awkward. "So, um, do you--"
"It's getting late, we should probably head back." John says quickly. His hand slides away and he goes to tidy up their picnic. His shoulders are tense and Rodney wants to know what the hell just happened to John.
John rarely meets his eyes as he takes the beach things to the Jumper, and when he does it's the tight smile Rodney hates. He gets a sinking, sad feeling in his chest. "Oh. Oh-okay. Sure."
The jumper ride home is quiet and, if possible, even more awkward than their conversation. Normally Rodney would be talking to fill the silence, but he doesn't want to talk quite yet. He has no idea what to say to make this better. He wants to go home and hide in his quarters for oh, maybe the rest of his life. That sounds like a nice, round number.
When they get home John flees the jumper bay, and Rodney feels a mixture of relief and sadness. He takes his time putting everything he brought with them away. What he brought from his quarters he gathers up, heads home and places everything carefully on the floor next to his shoes.
Rodney takes an incredibly long shower, promising himself he will tidy up tomorrow and finally allows himself the freedom to feel. Confusion hits him first, quickly followed by a sadness that has a depth that surprises him. He thought John's reaction would have been much different. All the flirting, the smiles and laughter - John doesn't do that kind of stuff with many people. He, Teyla and Ronon see it, and he sometimes does with Carson and Elizabeth, but he's more guarded with them, and no one else even gets close. He's a part of John's inner circle and he's very worried he's ruined that.
He wants more with John, but if there was no way that can happen he will gladly take their friendship instead. He respects and trusts John, and Rodney doesn't trust, not easily. And yeah, it will be painful at times to see him and know that Rodney can't touch him, but if that's the way it needs to go, if that's what John wants then he will respect that.
Doesn't mean he has to like it. He has no idea how long his shower is, but his fingers have gone all pruny, and even the really cool anti-fogging mirror is all fogged up. He decides that tomorrow he will talk to John, let him know that this doesn't have to affect their friendship and hopes that will work.
It's completely dark when he climbs into bed, and for a thirty-four year old, he feels way more tired than he should. Like he's weary to the bone and could sleep for years.
***
He wakes in the middle of the night to someone banging on his door. He's tempted to ignore it and follow through with his original plan of holing himself in his room until old age.
The knocking continues with no regard for Rodney's decision or the time, so he mutters bad things about broken Ancient equipment under his breath and thinks on the bedside light. "What broke this time?" He shouts as he stumbles to the door.
The moment he opens the door John stomps through it. Just the man he doesn't want to see right now. The door closes so fast Rodney thinks John must have told it to.
He's standing in the middle of Rodney's living room looking pissed. "You realize we're on the same gate team, right?"
Rodney gives John a dubious once over. "Of course I'm on your team. You woke me up to ask me that?"
"And you know I'm part of the Air Force, which has rules you don't agree with?"
Rodney shrugs on his house coat. It's too early for this. "All military organizations have rules I don't agree with, hence me working with them, not being a part of them. Did you swallow massive amounts of sea water while I wasn't looking or something?"
John steps close to him, right inside Rodney's personal bubble. "Then why the hell did you spring that on me back there?"
"Is that what this is about?" Rodney asks as the last of the sleep finally falls away.
"Rodney, you are a subordinate on my gate team, that makes me responsible for you. I don't even know how many rules there are against anyone in our positions being able to have--something." John shrugs his shoulders uncomfortably. "I know you're a smart guy, you tell me so ten times a fucking day. So, if this is the way things are, and not likely to change, I will repeat: Why did you bring all that stuff up back there?"
Rodney's never responded well to people yelling at him. "Because it's how I feel!" Rodney yells right back. "I never thought about any of that other stuff because that's not what's paramount to this situation."
John's eyes glitter with anger. "But it's paramount to mine!"
"So all you were doing was flirting to pass the time?" Rodney asks waspishly.
"Flirting doesn't get me sent back to Earth and dishonorably discharged." John says, although he has the good grace to look mildly abashed. "It's a hell of a lot safer than what you're proposing."
Rodney sets his jaw, refusing to back down. "What are you so pissed off about? The fact I brought it up or is it that you feel you can't do anything about it?" John stops short and just looks at him. The anger is starting to fade, replaced by something Rodney hasn't the patience to translate. "Look," he says, striving for calm, "I'm sorry I brought it up, ok? It's clear that you don't--"
"Both."
"--feel the same way, so..." Let's just pretend that whole conversation never happened never comes out and Rodney's left stuttering for something to say. He hates it when someone whisks his words away, and John does it far too often.
"I'm answering your questions," John continues, like he knows the hopes and fears spinning through Rodney's head. "I'm pissed off at both. I'm also particularly annoyed that for once in your life you didn't think about the consequences of your actions. It doesn't matter if I feel the same or not. I don't have the luxury of choosing."
"The only person who told you that you can't have what you want is yourself." He says bitterly. "Trust me, I know." The expression on John's face comes far too close to sympathy. He doesn't want that from him, so Rodney steps so close he can feel the heat coming off John's skin, the brush of air on his neck as the man breathes. He wants to kiss him so badly. "Now, you either do something about it or get the hell out of my quarters so I can get what little sleep there is to be had tonight."
"It's not that simple." A hint of the fear Rodney saw on the beach bleeds into John's face.
Rodney's voice sounds quiet and reasonable. "But it is, John," He makes an abortive attempt to touch John. He sees it and his mouth tightens further. Rodney decides fuck it and takes his hand anyways.
John looks like he's warring with himself. He keeps looking at Rodney, then away and back again. His face is the blank mask he uses when dealing with hard decisions and Rodney really wishes John drops it so he can see what's going on inside that brain of his.
John's free hand traces the line of Rodney's brow, feather light, the touch as startling as the tenderness. John seems mildly surprised that he's touching him. The back of calloused fingers caress Rodney's cheekbone, and he's left with the impression of being memorized, burned into sense memory with other seemingly inconsequential hoarded things. Rodney wonders how long this has gone on for. Fingers brush along the line of his jaw sweetly.
John tips his jaw up and Rodney blinks owlishly. A look at John's finally unguarded face tells a story of terror, a kind of wonderous disbelief, and an ache that goes deeper than bone and straight through to his soul. Rodney's rendered frozen and disbelieving himself. He had no idea.
John's lips, when they finally touch his are soft and pliant. They fit over his in a heartbreakingly tender kiss. Rodney kisses him back just as gently.
It's like John suddenly comes to himself and snaps, grabs the lapels of Rodney's housecoat, pulls him in and kisses him. Rodney's never been kissed like this, as if every ounce of anger and lust and life is pushed into it, so intense and focused it takes his breath away. Rodney wraps his hands around John's neck, into his hair and kisses him right back.
John steps closer, pushes Rodney against the wall and his breath whooshes out. He dimly recalls how similar this is to his dream and hopes fervently he won't suddenly wake up alone in his room. He hears picture frames fall but he doesn't care. All he can think about is John and more and God, yes and white noise.
"Damn, you drive me nuts, you know that?" John hisses.
"I've heard that from a few people now and then." Rodney sounds breathless and he can't stop smiling. He feels so good in Rodney's arms.
John's hand sliding around his waist is warm and doesn't tremble. It sneaks up under his t-shirt and strokes the small of his back. Little trills of heat shoot through his system every time John moves his hands. Rodney chokes back a moan and tugs John in until they're flush against one another, but carefully, making sure he doesn't hurt him.
Rodney wants to catalogue every touch and taste, every tactile moment. He gasps when John slides his house coat off his shoulders. Cool air licks at his exposed skin and raises goosebumps. Rodney realizes that all he's wearing is a t-shirt and boxers now. He feels exposed and vulnerable under John's heated gaze. John has seen him in various states of undress, just as he has seen John, Ronon and Teyla, but this feels different - this is different - and John is so warm, the wide expanse of his chest is pressed right against Rodney's, it chases away the goose-flesh, so perfectly, thoroughly male.
The slightly coarse fabric of John's shirt is mesmerizing to his fingertips. Rodney wants to run his hands all over it, over John. He trails fingertips down over a collarbone, the pebbled nub of a clothed nipple, his hard, flat belly and lower, finds the edge of the shirt and lifts it up. Rodney is giddy and terrified in turns when John pulls the shirt the rest of the way off. He's Rodney's oasis after a lifetime of searching in a desert.
John stops kissing him and stares at Rodney's mouth, and Rodney knows he should be annoyed at the break, but he can't quite find the energy. He's using up what little he has left to catch his breath and keep his knees from buckling. John looks wild around his very blown out almost all pupil eyes. Rodney thinks he's never looked better, possibly looks good enough to eat, or lick or taste.
A profound tenderness creeps into John's face. When they kiss again it's languorous, slow and deep. John is learning Rodney's mouth and taste. A thumb tracks gently over Rodney's cheekbone again, It feels more intimate than the kiss, and now there's this hollow aching spot just under his breastbone and Rodney doesn't know what to do with that.
He had always suspected John was a good kisser, but this is so much more than his imaginations musings. John groans low into Rodney's neck. "I want to do everything to you." John whispers. Rodney shivers at the want in John's voice, then nods.
Because he wants that too. He craves John's mouth whispering secrets into his skin, his big hands learning his body and everything that makes him moan, pant and cry out for more. The idea that John can touch him any way he wants makes Rodney's balls ache, his ass clench and his dick leak.
"I want to do this properly, though." John murmurs into his neck. He pulls back and looks at Rodney, and Jesus, he looks like sex personified. "Take me to bed, Rodney?" Rodney's mouth goes dry and his breath stalls. Intellectually, he knows they're going in this direction, but hearing it makes it real in a way that freezes Rodney in place again. Sudden panic grips him. What if he does something John doesn't like? What if he doesn't like it enough that this is all Rodney gets? He can't go back to how things were after this.
John's watching his every move, his thumb on Rodney's neck is moving in gentle circles over his wildly beating pulse point. He looks wary, and a little worried. John must have picked up on Rodney's hesitance and thought -- oh, damn, Rodney hasn't even done anything and still he's messing things up.
"Yeah," Rodney croaks out, "I want-- yes." He's rewarded with a smile that's almost too sweet. He stumbles to the bed, tugging John with him. John lays down gingerly, and Rodney reminds himself again that he must be careful with him. He doesn't want to hurt John. He lies down next to him, pulls John onto his side facing him and kisses him again, long, slow and so very, very hot.
John's hair at the nape of his neck is silky and soft, and the skin on the back of his shoulders is smooth and warm. John's chest is hard against Rodney's, he can feel their heartbeats chasing after each other, pounding away the rhythm of want. Johns hands roam over his chest under the loose shirt, inches it up. Rodney lifts his arms so the shirt goes up and over, then it's so much better. John kisses Rodney's neck, collarbone, chest and Rodney sucks in deep shuddering breaths as he sucks a nipple into his mouth.
"Oh shit. John--" John lifts his head just enough to make eye contact and that look goes straight to Rodney's dick. His hips buck up, looking for friction to calm the ache between his legs. Has he ever been this hard? He doesn't know, can't think when John groans again like that. Rodney can feel the vibration through his chest cavity and oh shit, yeah, he wants John to do that again.
John kisses to his other nipple, sucks it down, gets the barest hint of teeth involved and Rodney whimpers and arches into his mouth. John is on top of him now, Rodney's legs spread and bracketing him, his belly is putting pressure on Rodney's cock and he's so warm, so incredibly, impossibly warm. Rodney thrusts up and John pushes down, slides a hand from chest to side to hip to thigh and back again.
Rodney's world is dwindling down to this: John above him and around him, holding him down and damn it, that shouldn't be as hot as it is. Rodney's never been pushed into the mattress like this, didn't think he'd ever want it, but he does now. Realization this time comes with a whimper and he winds his fingers deeper into John's messy (perfect, silky, made for him) hair and begs silently for more.
"Rodney, I want--" John swallows audibly and his big possessive hands take hold of his knees, slide to his inner thighs and down, down, down, inching closer and closer. Rodney's legs open wantonly wide. His skin everywhere John touches feels electrified.
"God, anything, just--do something." Rodney babbles.
John looks up with a hint of a smile, but it slides away leaving him intensely serious, like he's hanging by a thread. "Say that again."
Rodney pauses. A faint tremor runs through John and he wonders again how much he's wanted this, and for how long. He could ask him and most likely get an answer, too, but Rodney doesn't want that. What he needs, is John. He leans forward and kisses him deeply. "Anything you want," He whispers.
John moans and kisses the hollow of his chest. "Wanna see you. Taste you..." he mumbles, his breath hot on Rodney's skin. John kisses his belly, then his belly button and omygodhe'sreallygonna-- John reaches for the elastic of Rodney's boxers and slides them off.
Rodney has only a moment to contemplate cool air on sensitive places before John presses a kiss to the dip between hip and pelvis, pushes his nose to the side of Rodney's intensely hard cock and breathes him in. He shivers at the rush of air. John's hands keep stroking his inner thighs, from knee all the way to the join of leg and hip, over and over. it makes Rodney shiver and tremble. He can't stop touching John either, his hands run over shoulders, neck and upper arms -- anything he can reach at this angle.
John lifts his head again, looks at him with those blown out eyes, and licks the tip of Rodney's cock. It's like an electric shock and it takes a huge effort of self-restraint not to push up into his mouth. "Oh, fuck," Rodney whines.
"Wanted this..." John whispers, then holds the base of Rodney's cock so he can kiss the glans with the barest hint of tongue. It makes Rodney's toes curl. "...Wanted you. God, look at you."
"John," Rodney whimpers. His verbose vocabulary, it's all dwindled down to that. Rodney couldn't string a sentence together if his life depended on it. All he can do is look on helplessly as John licks him from root to tip and swallows the head of his cock.
Heat and wet and suction and pressure and hands and mouth and-- Oh God, Rodney's back arches, his legs tremble, he makes a cracking moan and clenches the bed sheets in a trembling fist. John bobs slowly, sucking, then pulling off to lick, tease, look at him, look at his cock, then do it all over again.
And again, and again. It's like being eaten alive piece by slow piece. Rodney doesn't know how long he can last. He can feel his orgasm churning in his balls, all he can think is 'just a few more seconds. If I can only hold off a few more seconds.'
The sight of John sucking his cock is the hottest thing he's ever seen, he wants to stay here forever watching John watch him. But John has other ideas, it seems. He speeds up, starts stroking Rodney's shaft. He lifts off his cock enough to lick a finger, and Rodney can feel the wet slide over his balls, press into that sensitive spot just behind them and then-- "Oh God, John, I don't-- I mean, I've never--"
Because he hasn't, he's never had a partner that's been interested in that, and he's never had the guts to do it himself, too afraid he'd like it too much. He's flirted with that edge many times, but never actually gone over it.
John moans again, a dark sound that Rodney can feel through his cock, in his balls and deeper. John teases at his hole, tiny little circles that makes every nerve in his body sing, then slides his finger inside him. It's nothing like Rodney's felt before, he's pierced to the soul. Another man is inside me, Oh fuck--.
He loses it. His asshole contracts, his balls clench so tight it almost hurts and without warning Rodney's coming, shooting deep in Johns mouth. John takes it all, swallows him down and Rodney's shaking. John lifts off his quickly softening cock with an obscene wet pop, kisses the dip at his pelvis again and lies beside Rodney, takes him in his arms and holds him until the shaking subsides.
"You didn't...?" Rodney asks.
John shakes his head and holds him tighter. "It's ok."
No, it isn't, Rodney thinks. If this is about the two of them, if John was able to give him that much pleasure--
He fumbles for the clasp of John's jeans, undoes them and finds his boxer-clad cock. "Rodney, I mean it, you don't have to--"
"Shut up." Rodney growls. He pushes restricting fabric away. John is so hard, the tip of his cock wet. When Rodney puts a hand on it John's arms tighten around him. Rodney jacks him off hard and fast. The angle isn't the greatest, Rodney wants to see what he's doing, see the shape and heft of it in his hand, but he doesn't want to move out from John's embrace. His forehead is pressed to Rodney's, dotted with sweat, breathing hard. Rodney kisses him, warm and wet and alive. He tastes like himself, and Rodney kisses him deeper, wants to sear that taste - John mingled with him - into his memory forever. John freezes and he comes over Rodney's belly, the bed, his hand.
John slides a hand over Rodney's shoulder, up to his neck, cups the back of his head and presses their foreheads together again. Massages his scalp a little and Rodney wants to purr like a contented house cat.
"Can you stay?" Rodney whispers.
John smiles, it's sated and sweet. "I'll stay for a while."
Rodney smiles back. They tidy up and when Rodney falls asleep this time, its cradled in Johns arms, warm, safe and more complete than he's ever felt before.
***
When Rodney wakes the grey light streaming through the windows tells him it's very early morning. He rolls over. The other side of the bed is empty. He touches the pillow, still warm. Rodney smiles, knocks his pillow to the side and pulls the one John slept on over and breathes it in.
John comes out of the bathroom wearing a towel and smelling of shower and toothpaste. He looks at the state of the bed, the state of Rodney and smirks. "Pillow hog."
Rodney shrugs and snuggles deeper into the pillow. "It's good you know that now. Best to get these things out in the open early on."
John's smile fades, but doesn't leave completely. "Good idea." He sits on the edge of the bed and puts his socks on, then leans over and kisses Rodney's neck. He arches, gives John more room to play. "I really should go." He says regretfully.
Rodney sighs. He knew this part was coming. He was just hoping it wouldn't come so quickly. "Yeah."
"But... I was thinking," John says as he looks very intently at the bed sheet covering Rodney's chest. "Maybe you could come over tonight. You know, after you're finished work."
Rodney can't stop smiling. "That would be nice." He says softly.
John looks back and smiles at him, the same toothy grin Rodney's sure he's wearing. John kisses him properly. It lingers on Rodney's lips.
The light is brighter when they break apart. Rodney slides a finger down the side of John's face, gets to know the texture of John's skin and the way he smells fresh out of a shower. He thinks about having this every day, of waking up to him and his morning routine. "I don't want easy." He blurts.
John's eyebrows shoot up and his eyes are dancing. "Rodney, nothing about you is easy."
"Ha-ha, very funny." Rodney mock-laughs. "I mean... You said once that you keep your relationships casual. I don't want that. I want more."
John isn't smiling anymore. He backs away a little and drops his eyes. "Look... I don't know if this is a good idea."
It get's Rodney's blood up. "It's not that complicated. Do you want me or not?"
"Wanting and having are two different things, Rodney, you know that." John reaches for his pants and won't look at Rodney.
The thing is, Rodney knows that all too well. "Yes. I do." He says softly, then, louder, "and I personally like the idea of getting what I want.". John stops fiddling with his pants.
"You're not going to let me get out of this are you?" John asks, looking suddenly tired. He slides to the side, wraps an arm around Rodney and looks at him. "Rodney, I meant what I said before: We're on the same team, which means we have other people to think about. There's also my job, and by extension yours, too."
"All on the assumption I can't keep us a secret." Rodney feels stung.
John's face goes blank, then very, very pink, which is more of a confession than if John had said it. Rodney doesn't want to push John into something more if he doesn't want it. That's not what friends do, and they are still that, will always be that.
"Why don't we try having just this for a while," Rodney takes John's hand and twines their fingers together. "If it doesn't work we can always come back and re-evaluate."
John looks doubtful. "I don't know..."
Which sounds like an open invitation for Rodney to prove all the wonderful ways this could work for them. He pulls John on top of him with their linked hands and kisses him. John kisses back and a little thrill goes through Rodney.
John groans in defeat as Rodney puts a possessive hand on his hip and pulls him closer so John can feel his rising interest. "A month," John murmurs against Rodney's skin, and oh yeah, his voice sounds good like that. "We'll see how things go for a month." John looks at him from under dark lashes. "Don't make me regret this, McKay."
Rodney smiles. "This is one decision you'll never regret." Rodney promises and kisses him slowly, taking the time he he hadn't the night before, learning all the places that makes John shiver and moan, then pulls him closer.
Rodney is inching the towel from around John's hips when the beeping starts. John stops kissing him and sighs sadly. "Is that my earpiece or yours?"
The question becomes moot when another beeping joins the first. Rodney reaches for his on the bedside table and puts it impatiently to his ear. "This better be fantastically good, as in finding me a crate full of ZedPM's."
"Good morning to you, too, Rodney," Zelenka replies, tinny and sharp through the little speaker. John kisses his shoulder and rolls away to pat down his pants for his own earpiece. Rodney momentarily regrets not turning the damn thing off last night like he usually does. "I know it's early--"
"Incredibly early. What do you want?"
"I was searching through the database early this morning and I found some information on early Ancient ZPM research--"
Rodney's lazy approval of John bending over while still in his towel dissolves. "Don't touch anything, in fact, don't even breathe on that information until I get there." He's already off the bed and searching for clothes as John finishes his own conversation with a muttered curse.
"I have a meeting with Lorne fifteen minutes ago." John looks both regretful and impatient. Rodney understands completely. He watches wistfully as John shimmies into his pants. Oh, what he wouldn't give to sleep in like a normal person some days.
"And I have a meeting with Zelenka." he says. The irritation at being interrupted is starting to fade into guarded hope. If Zelenka really did find some useful information on ZedPM research...
He and John get dressed, and at the door John pulls him into a kiss that warms him to his toes. "Have a good day, dear." John murmurs with one of his goofy smiles.
Rodney rolls his eyes. "Yes, yes, you too. Now, get out of my quarters."
Rodney is trying to push him out the door but John holds him back for a moment. "Radio me tonight?"
He looks hopeful, and so very cute when he asks like that. Rodney can't help but smile back. "Of course." He's said that so many times to placate or to stall, but Rodney means it this time.
John nods, satisfied. "Good."
The door swishes open and they go opposite ways.
He has to concentrate to keep the smile from his face. Before he turns the corner and out of John's sight he gets one more glimpse of him. John looks over his shoulder and gives him that unreadable smile - only it's not so unreadable any longer. It is sweet (he can't help but smile back), a touch of the tenderness he showed Rodney the night before (he isn't sure what to do with that yet) and wicked (a promise for later).
Rodney smiles back and turns the corner, out of sight and to his own transporter. Although the ZedPM possibilities are filling most of his attention, he finds himself looking forward to tonight. It feels like it's a first date, or a first kiss, but so much better, because it's for John. In a way he's glad he's waited until now to go down this path, because he's found someone who likes him for who he is - insecurities, hypochondria, crappy intra-personal skills and all.
In fact, he can't wait until tonight, and what's better, neither can John.
~end~
Author: Kitchyy
Rating: PG-NC-17
This Chapter: NC-17
Pairings: Eventual Sheppard/McKay
Warnings/Spoilers: Upto the End of Season 3, just to be safe
Summary for this chapter: Rodney knows exactly who he wants to share this with.
Disclaimer: So not mine. Never will be. Please also remember, this is totally unbeta'd so, yanno, mistakes are mine and I take full responsibility for them.
After a serious bout of writers block and ridiculous overtime at work it's finally done. Here, just--take it.
Previous Chapter
Stage Seven: Acceptance
It takes about three days for Rodney to mentally and emotionally scrape himself off the floor. He would have preferred a week to have this little breakdown, but there's too many things to do in Atlantis only he and Zelenka can do. He's maybe not so quick with his work as he usually is, but he thinks he's done an ok job, considering he just knocked his life into tiny shards and duct taped it back together again.
Rodney hasn't looked too far below his own surface much, there's always been so many other important things to focus on, like school, then work, and now Atlantis. There's always been distractions. He should have gotten all this out of his system at sixteen, and he feels a little guilty about that, too. Like he's looking back on his life and seeing all this wasted time.
So it feels strange, this... knowledge and understanding he now has about his feelings and who he really sees in the mirror these days. He isn't so much of a stranger to himself anymore. Now that he knows and he's finally admitting to himself that being... Gay, or at least bi is a part of his life he wants to get living, wants to experience all of it.
And he knows exactly who he wants to have that experience with.
***
He knocks on John's door. It's his last week of recovery, so he's moving around a lot better these days. John opens the door and Rodney smiles. "You feel like getting out of here for a while?"
"Oh, God, yes." John says heartily. He puts on boots and follows Rodney. "Um... Where are we going?"
Rodney grins, smug. "I may have asked permission for a puddle jumper this afternoon." John's eyes light up and Rodney gives himself a mental pat on the back. "I was thinking we could head over to the mainland, perhaps even do a little walking."
"Wow. I mean... Wow, Rodney, thanks. Hey, you feeling ok?" John asks with a teasing smile.
Rodney rounds the corner with John and glares. "Of course I am. I'm offering to walk, not do one of those ridiculous nine-hour hikes you and Ronon are always on about. Nothing strenuous."
One side of John's mouth slides up. "What, afraid a wounded man might beat you up the side of a mountain?"
"If it's you? Yes."
John chuckles. "At least you're honest."
Rodney dips his head and lets John take the lead as they head into the Jumper bay. "It's something I'm working on." He says quietly.
John gives him a curious look and Rodney points to Jumper four. "I was thinking you could drive since my skills are better suited for things like, oh, I don't know, saving the day, perhaps?"
"I can't argue with that today." John climbs in and sits in the driver's seat, all while smiling, and it's the fluttery-panic feeling all over again. This time Rodney accepts it, feels it instead of runs from it.
After fifteen minutes of flying and John so excited he looks like a puppy with his master back home from vacation they find a spot near the equator. It's all sandy beaches and low grass hills in the distance, with no one around for miles.
They walk for a bit. Rodney throws random pieces of grass at John, and John threatens to open the back hatch of the jumper on the way back and dump him in the ocean. They sit and watch the tide come in, and Rodney surprises John by pulling out a blanket and a little bit of food. Nothing impressive, just almost-turkey sandwiches and some bottled water, but John is impressed, and that's all that really matters.
"You know," John says, his head pillowed on his arm while looking up at the slowly darkening sky, "this whole afternoon has been really nice."
"Well, good. That's what I was aiming for." Rodney looks at John. He's sprawled comfortably and so at ease in his own body. Rodney wants that for himself, hopes that maybe he's finally getting there, too.
John sits up, wraps his arms loosely around his knees and looks over. "Why are you being so nice, Rodney?"
Rodney huffs. "I'm a nice person." John tilts his head and stares at him. "I am!" And Rodney belatedly realizes John is teasing him.
There's silence for a beat, then John snorts. "So, what's this trip really about?"
Rodney can only look back for so long. Eventually his eyes drop and he looks forlornly at the ocean. "Do you know the definition of insanity?"
John quirks a brow. "This conversation?"
Rodney wishes for a little of that grass he was throwing at John earlier. "Oh, Ha-ha. It's when you try the same thing over and over and expect a different result."
John looks thoughtful. "Einstein, right?"
Rodney rolls his eyes impatiently. "Yes, Einstein,"
"See? I knew you thought I was smart." John chuckles.
Rodney frowns. "That's not what I--"
John leans forward with a cute little pout. "I heard it, you can't take it back."
Flirting. John is flirting with him. Rodney feels his cheeks warm. Perhaps this won't go as bad as he feared.
His anxiety is still high, though. Honestly, he isn't ready for this conversation. But there's never a good time for this, is there? He closes his eyes, waits the space of a heartbeat and opens them again. It's just a blink, and even though the angle of the sun may have changed minutely and the spartan cloud cover has drifted ever so slightly with the wind, everything's the same. Perhaps after all this, and everything he knows now, he's still the same person, too. "I've realized a lot of things recently. About myself I mean, and I'm not really good with... explaining myself in any relative terminology when it comes to emotions. So I'm sorry in advance if some of this comes out all wrong."
John takes his wrist and squeezes it reassuringly. John has always preferred touching to talking about this stuff. "So just take it slow, then. What have you realized?"
Rodney slides John's hand over the bones of his wrist and up, turns his palm over so their fingers tangle together. "This. I think that... this... is something I want."
John stills and the slouch he uses like a shield bows his shoulders. His eyes have gone sharp and calculating. "Would this be in general or... ?"
Rodney's actually said it out loud. He tries to keep the small bubble of hysteria at bay. "No. And I think I've ignored it for a long time. Longer than I care to admit, really."
"Wait, so you--" John looks like he's at a loss for words and stares dumbly at their linked hands for a long time, a range of emotions too fast to read flit over his features. Rodney counts his heartbeats which come far too quickly. Waiting for John to say something is like having his foot poised over a precipice. He doesn't know if he'll float or fall.
Finally, John let's go of his hand, stands and turns away from him. Puts a hand over his forehead. Not fast enough to hide a deep frown and the sharp sting of fear in John's eyes. "Rodney, I..."
Rodney gets up too, his heart is thudding in his chest. "Yeah?"
John turns and doesn't meet his eyes, but he's schooled his features into an easygoing mask of politeness. He pats Rodney on the shoulder, like a friend. "I'm glad you told me. It took a lot of guts."
What the hell is that supposed to mean? The silence stretches, becomes awkward. "So, um, do you--"
"It's getting late, we should probably head back." John says quickly. His hand slides away and he goes to tidy up their picnic. His shoulders are tense and Rodney wants to know what the hell just happened to John.
John rarely meets his eyes as he takes the beach things to the Jumper, and when he does it's the tight smile Rodney hates. He gets a sinking, sad feeling in his chest. "Oh. Oh-okay. Sure."
The jumper ride home is quiet and, if possible, even more awkward than their conversation. Normally Rodney would be talking to fill the silence, but he doesn't want to talk quite yet. He has no idea what to say to make this better. He wants to go home and hide in his quarters for oh, maybe the rest of his life. That sounds like a nice, round number.
When they get home John flees the jumper bay, and Rodney feels a mixture of relief and sadness. He takes his time putting everything he brought with them away. What he brought from his quarters he gathers up, heads home and places everything carefully on the floor next to his shoes.
Rodney takes an incredibly long shower, promising himself he will tidy up tomorrow and finally allows himself the freedom to feel. Confusion hits him first, quickly followed by a sadness that has a depth that surprises him. He thought John's reaction would have been much different. All the flirting, the smiles and laughter - John doesn't do that kind of stuff with many people. He, Teyla and Ronon see it, and he sometimes does with Carson and Elizabeth, but he's more guarded with them, and no one else even gets close. He's a part of John's inner circle and he's very worried he's ruined that.
He wants more with John, but if there was no way that can happen he will gladly take their friendship instead. He respects and trusts John, and Rodney doesn't trust, not easily. And yeah, it will be painful at times to see him and know that Rodney can't touch him, but if that's the way it needs to go, if that's what John wants then he will respect that.
Doesn't mean he has to like it. He has no idea how long his shower is, but his fingers have gone all pruny, and even the really cool anti-fogging mirror is all fogged up. He decides that tomorrow he will talk to John, let him know that this doesn't have to affect their friendship and hopes that will work.
It's completely dark when he climbs into bed, and for a thirty-four year old, he feels way more tired than he should. Like he's weary to the bone and could sleep for years.
***
He wakes in the middle of the night to someone banging on his door. He's tempted to ignore it and follow through with his original plan of holing himself in his room until old age.
The knocking continues with no regard for Rodney's decision or the time, so he mutters bad things about broken Ancient equipment under his breath and thinks on the bedside light. "What broke this time?" He shouts as he stumbles to the door.
The moment he opens the door John stomps through it. Just the man he doesn't want to see right now. The door closes so fast Rodney thinks John must have told it to.
He's standing in the middle of Rodney's living room looking pissed. "You realize we're on the same gate team, right?"
Rodney gives John a dubious once over. "Of course I'm on your team. You woke me up to ask me that?"
"And you know I'm part of the Air Force, which has rules you don't agree with?"
Rodney shrugs on his house coat. It's too early for this. "All military organizations have rules I don't agree with, hence me working with them, not being a part of them. Did you swallow massive amounts of sea water while I wasn't looking or something?"
John steps close to him, right inside Rodney's personal bubble. "Then why the hell did you spring that on me back there?"
"Is that what this is about?" Rodney asks as the last of the sleep finally falls away.
"Rodney, you are a subordinate on my gate team, that makes me responsible for you. I don't even know how many rules there are against anyone in our positions being able to have--something." John shrugs his shoulders uncomfortably. "I know you're a smart guy, you tell me so ten times a fucking day. So, if this is the way things are, and not likely to change, I will repeat: Why did you bring all that stuff up back there?"
Rodney's never responded well to people yelling at him. "Because it's how I feel!" Rodney yells right back. "I never thought about any of that other stuff because that's not what's paramount to this situation."
John's eyes glitter with anger. "But it's paramount to mine!"
"So all you were doing was flirting to pass the time?" Rodney asks waspishly.
"Flirting doesn't get me sent back to Earth and dishonorably discharged." John says, although he has the good grace to look mildly abashed. "It's a hell of a lot safer than what you're proposing."
Rodney sets his jaw, refusing to back down. "What are you so pissed off about? The fact I brought it up or is it that you feel you can't do anything about it?" John stops short and just looks at him. The anger is starting to fade, replaced by something Rodney hasn't the patience to translate. "Look," he says, striving for calm, "I'm sorry I brought it up, ok? It's clear that you don't--"
"Both."
"--feel the same way, so..." Let's just pretend that whole conversation never happened never comes out and Rodney's left stuttering for something to say. He hates it when someone whisks his words away, and John does it far too often.
"I'm answering your questions," John continues, like he knows the hopes and fears spinning through Rodney's head. "I'm pissed off at both. I'm also particularly annoyed that for once in your life you didn't think about the consequences of your actions. It doesn't matter if I feel the same or not. I don't have the luxury of choosing."
"The only person who told you that you can't have what you want is yourself." He says bitterly. "Trust me, I know." The expression on John's face comes far too close to sympathy. He doesn't want that from him, so Rodney steps so close he can feel the heat coming off John's skin, the brush of air on his neck as the man breathes. He wants to kiss him so badly. "Now, you either do something about it or get the hell out of my quarters so I can get what little sleep there is to be had tonight."
"It's not that simple." A hint of the fear Rodney saw on the beach bleeds into John's face.
Rodney's voice sounds quiet and reasonable. "But it is, John," He makes an abortive attempt to touch John. He sees it and his mouth tightens further. Rodney decides fuck it and takes his hand anyways.
John looks like he's warring with himself. He keeps looking at Rodney, then away and back again. His face is the blank mask he uses when dealing with hard decisions and Rodney really wishes John drops it so he can see what's going on inside that brain of his.
John's free hand traces the line of Rodney's brow, feather light, the touch as startling as the tenderness. John seems mildly surprised that he's touching him. The back of calloused fingers caress Rodney's cheekbone, and he's left with the impression of being memorized, burned into sense memory with other seemingly inconsequential hoarded things. Rodney wonders how long this has gone on for. Fingers brush along the line of his jaw sweetly.
John tips his jaw up and Rodney blinks owlishly. A look at John's finally unguarded face tells a story of terror, a kind of wonderous disbelief, and an ache that goes deeper than bone and straight through to his soul. Rodney's rendered frozen and disbelieving himself. He had no idea.
John's lips, when they finally touch his are soft and pliant. They fit over his in a heartbreakingly tender kiss. Rodney kisses him back just as gently.
It's like John suddenly comes to himself and snaps, grabs the lapels of Rodney's housecoat, pulls him in and kisses him. Rodney's never been kissed like this, as if every ounce of anger and lust and life is pushed into it, so intense and focused it takes his breath away. Rodney wraps his hands around John's neck, into his hair and kisses him right back.
John steps closer, pushes Rodney against the wall and his breath whooshes out. He dimly recalls how similar this is to his dream and hopes fervently he won't suddenly wake up alone in his room. He hears picture frames fall but he doesn't care. All he can think about is John and more and God, yes and white noise.
"Damn, you drive me nuts, you know that?" John hisses.
"I've heard that from a few people now and then." Rodney sounds breathless and he can't stop smiling. He feels so good in Rodney's arms.
John's hand sliding around his waist is warm and doesn't tremble. It sneaks up under his t-shirt and strokes the small of his back. Little trills of heat shoot through his system every time John moves his hands. Rodney chokes back a moan and tugs John in until they're flush against one another, but carefully, making sure he doesn't hurt him.
Rodney wants to catalogue every touch and taste, every tactile moment. He gasps when John slides his house coat off his shoulders. Cool air licks at his exposed skin and raises goosebumps. Rodney realizes that all he's wearing is a t-shirt and boxers now. He feels exposed and vulnerable under John's heated gaze. John has seen him in various states of undress, just as he has seen John, Ronon and Teyla, but this feels different - this is different - and John is so warm, the wide expanse of his chest is pressed right against Rodney's, it chases away the goose-flesh, so perfectly, thoroughly male.
The slightly coarse fabric of John's shirt is mesmerizing to his fingertips. Rodney wants to run his hands all over it, over John. He trails fingertips down over a collarbone, the pebbled nub of a clothed nipple, his hard, flat belly and lower, finds the edge of the shirt and lifts it up. Rodney is giddy and terrified in turns when John pulls the shirt the rest of the way off. He's Rodney's oasis after a lifetime of searching in a desert.
John stops kissing him and stares at Rodney's mouth, and Rodney knows he should be annoyed at the break, but he can't quite find the energy. He's using up what little he has left to catch his breath and keep his knees from buckling. John looks wild around his very blown out almost all pupil eyes. Rodney thinks he's never looked better, possibly looks good enough to eat, or lick or taste.
A profound tenderness creeps into John's face. When they kiss again it's languorous, slow and deep. John is learning Rodney's mouth and taste. A thumb tracks gently over Rodney's cheekbone again, It feels more intimate than the kiss, and now there's this hollow aching spot just under his breastbone and Rodney doesn't know what to do with that.
He had always suspected John was a good kisser, but this is so much more than his imaginations musings. John groans low into Rodney's neck. "I want to do everything to you." John whispers. Rodney shivers at the want in John's voice, then nods.
Because he wants that too. He craves John's mouth whispering secrets into his skin, his big hands learning his body and everything that makes him moan, pant and cry out for more. The idea that John can touch him any way he wants makes Rodney's balls ache, his ass clench and his dick leak.
"I want to do this properly, though." John murmurs into his neck. He pulls back and looks at Rodney, and Jesus, he looks like sex personified. "Take me to bed, Rodney?" Rodney's mouth goes dry and his breath stalls. Intellectually, he knows they're going in this direction, but hearing it makes it real in a way that freezes Rodney in place again. Sudden panic grips him. What if he does something John doesn't like? What if he doesn't like it enough that this is all Rodney gets? He can't go back to how things were after this.
John's watching his every move, his thumb on Rodney's neck is moving in gentle circles over his wildly beating pulse point. He looks wary, and a little worried. John must have picked up on Rodney's hesitance and thought -- oh, damn, Rodney hasn't even done anything and still he's messing things up.
"Yeah," Rodney croaks out, "I want-- yes." He's rewarded with a smile that's almost too sweet. He stumbles to the bed, tugging John with him. John lays down gingerly, and Rodney reminds himself again that he must be careful with him. He doesn't want to hurt John. He lies down next to him, pulls John onto his side facing him and kisses him again, long, slow and so very, very hot.
John's hair at the nape of his neck is silky and soft, and the skin on the back of his shoulders is smooth and warm. John's chest is hard against Rodney's, he can feel their heartbeats chasing after each other, pounding away the rhythm of want. Johns hands roam over his chest under the loose shirt, inches it up. Rodney lifts his arms so the shirt goes up and over, then it's so much better. John kisses Rodney's neck, collarbone, chest and Rodney sucks in deep shuddering breaths as he sucks a nipple into his mouth.
"Oh shit. John--" John lifts his head just enough to make eye contact and that look goes straight to Rodney's dick. His hips buck up, looking for friction to calm the ache between his legs. Has he ever been this hard? He doesn't know, can't think when John groans again like that. Rodney can feel the vibration through his chest cavity and oh shit, yeah, he wants John to do that again.
John kisses to his other nipple, sucks it down, gets the barest hint of teeth involved and Rodney whimpers and arches into his mouth. John is on top of him now, Rodney's legs spread and bracketing him, his belly is putting pressure on Rodney's cock and he's so warm, so incredibly, impossibly warm. Rodney thrusts up and John pushes down, slides a hand from chest to side to hip to thigh and back again.
Rodney's world is dwindling down to this: John above him and around him, holding him down and damn it, that shouldn't be as hot as it is. Rodney's never been pushed into the mattress like this, didn't think he'd ever want it, but he does now. Realization this time comes with a whimper and he winds his fingers deeper into John's messy (perfect, silky, made for him) hair and begs silently for more.
"Rodney, I want--" John swallows audibly and his big possessive hands take hold of his knees, slide to his inner thighs and down, down, down, inching closer and closer. Rodney's legs open wantonly wide. His skin everywhere John touches feels electrified.
"God, anything, just--do something." Rodney babbles.
John looks up with a hint of a smile, but it slides away leaving him intensely serious, like he's hanging by a thread. "Say that again."
Rodney pauses. A faint tremor runs through John and he wonders again how much he's wanted this, and for how long. He could ask him and most likely get an answer, too, but Rodney doesn't want that. What he needs, is John. He leans forward and kisses him deeply. "Anything you want," He whispers.
John moans and kisses the hollow of his chest. "Wanna see you. Taste you..." he mumbles, his breath hot on Rodney's skin. John kisses his belly, then his belly button and omygodhe'sreallygonna-- John reaches for the elastic of Rodney's boxers and slides them off.
Rodney has only a moment to contemplate cool air on sensitive places before John presses a kiss to the dip between hip and pelvis, pushes his nose to the side of Rodney's intensely hard cock and breathes him in. He shivers at the rush of air. John's hands keep stroking his inner thighs, from knee all the way to the join of leg and hip, over and over. it makes Rodney shiver and tremble. He can't stop touching John either, his hands run over shoulders, neck and upper arms -- anything he can reach at this angle.
John lifts his head again, looks at him with those blown out eyes, and licks the tip of Rodney's cock. It's like an electric shock and it takes a huge effort of self-restraint not to push up into his mouth. "Oh, fuck," Rodney whines.
"Wanted this..." John whispers, then holds the base of Rodney's cock so he can kiss the glans with the barest hint of tongue. It makes Rodney's toes curl. "...Wanted you. God, look at you."
"John," Rodney whimpers. His verbose vocabulary, it's all dwindled down to that. Rodney couldn't string a sentence together if his life depended on it. All he can do is look on helplessly as John licks him from root to tip and swallows the head of his cock.
Heat and wet and suction and pressure and hands and mouth and-- Oh God, Rodney's back arches, his legs tremble, he makes a cracking moan and clenches the bed sheets in a trembling fist. John bobs slowly, sucking, then pulling off to lick, tease, look at him, look at his cock, then do it all over again.
And again, and again. It's like being eaten alive piece by slow piece. Rodney doesn't know how long he can last. He can feel his orgasm churning in his balls, all he can think is 'just a few more seconds. If I can only hold off a few more seconds.'
The sight of John sucking his cock is the hottest thing he's ever seen, he wants to stay here forever watching John watch him. But John has other ideas, it seems. He speeds up, starts stroking Rodney's shaft. He lifts off his cock enough to lick a finger, and Rodney can feel the wet slide over his balls, press into that sensitive spot just behind them and then-- "Oh God, John, I don't-- I mean, I've never--"
Because he hasn't, he's never had a partner that's been interested in that, and he's never had the guts to do it himself, too afraid he'd like it too much. He's flirted with that edge many times, but never actually gone over it.
John moans again, a dark sound that Rodney can feel through his cock, in his balls and deeper. John teases at his hole, tiny little circles that makes every nerve in his body sing, then slides his finger inside him. It's nothing like Rodney's felt before, he's pierced to the soul. Another man is inside me, Oh fuck--.
He loses it. His asshole contracts, his balls clench so tight it almost hurts and without warning Rodney's coming, shooting deep in Johns mouth. John takes it all, swallows him down and Rodney's shaking. John lifts off his quickly softening cock with an obscene wet pop, kisses the dip at his pelvis again and lies beside Rodney, takes him in his arms and holds him until the shaking subsides.
"You didn't...?" Rodney asks.
John shakes his head and holds him tighter. "It's ok."
No, it isn't, Rodney thinks. If this is about the two of them, if John was able to give him that much pleasure--
He fumbles for the clasp of John's jeans, undoes them and finds his boxer-clad cock. "Rodney, I mean it, you don't have to--"
"Shut up." Rodney growls. He pushes restricting fabric away. John is so hard, the tip of his cock wet. When Rodney puts a hand on it John's arms tighten around him. Rodney jacks him off hard and fast. The angle isn't the greatest, Rodney wants to see what he's doing, see the shape and heft of it in his hand, but he doesn't want to move out from John's embrace. His forehead is pressed to Rodney's, dotted with sweat, breathing hard. Rodney kisses him, warm and wet and alive. He tastes like himself, and Rodney kisses him deeper, wants to sear that taste - John mingled with him - into his memory forever. John freezes and he comes over Rodney's belly, the bed, his hand.
John slides a hand over Rodney's shoulder, up to his neck, cups the back of his head and presses their foreheads together again. Massages his scalp a little and Rodney wants to purr like a contented house cat.
"Can you stay?" Rodney whispers.
John smiles, it's sated and sweet. "I'll stay for a while."
Rodney smiles back. They tidy up and when Rodney falls asleep this time, its cradled in Johns arms, warm, safe and more complete than he's ever felt before.
***
When Rodney wakes the grey light streaming through the windows tells him it's very early morning. He rolls over. The other side of the bed is empty. He touches the pillow, still warm. Rodney smiles, knocks his pillow to the side and pulls the one John slept on over and breathes it in.
John comes out of the bathroom wearing a towel and smelling of shower and toothpaste. He looks at the state of the bed, the state of Rodney and smirks. "Pillow hog."
Rodney shrugs and snuggles deeper into the pillow. "It's good you know that now. Best to get these things out in the open early on."
John's smile fades, but doesn't leave completely. "Good idea." He sits on the edge of the bed and puts his socks on, then leans over and kisses Rodney's neck. He arches, gives John more room to play. "I really should go." He says regretfully.
Rodney sighs. He knew this part was coming. He was just hoping it wouldn't come so quickly. "Yeah."
"But... I was thinking," John says as he looks very intently at the bed sheet covering Rodney's chest. "Maybe you could come over tonight. You know, after you're finished work."
Rodney can't stop smiling. "That would be nice." He says softly.
John looks back and smiles at him, the same toothy grin Rodney's sure he's wearing. John kisses him properly. It lingers on Rodney's lips.
The light is brighter when they break apart. Rodney slides a finger down the side of John's face, gets to know the texture of John's skin and the way he smells fresh out of a shower. He thinks about having this every day, of waking up to him and his morning routine. "I don't want easy." He blurts.
John's eyebrows shoot up and his eyes are dancing. "Rodney, nothing about you is easy."
"Ha-ha, very funny." Rodney mock-laughs. "I mean... You said once that you keep your relationships casual. I don't want that. I want more."
John isn't smiling anymore. He backs away a little and drops his eyes. "Look... I don't know if this is a good idea."
It get's Rodney's blood up. "It's not that complicated. Do you want me or not?"
"Wanting and having are two different things, Rodney, you know that." John reaches for his pants and won't look at Rodney.
The thing is, Rodney knows that all too well. "Yes. I do." He says softly, then, louder, "and I personally like the idea of getting what I want.". John stops fiddling with his pants.
"You're not going to let me get out of this are you?" John asks, looking suddenly tired. He slides to the side, wraps an arm around Rodney and looks at him. "Rodney, I meant what I said before: We're on the same team, which means we have other people to think about. There's also my job, and by extension yours, too."
"All on the assumption I can't keep us a secret." Rodney feels stung.
John's face goes blank, then very, very pink, which is more of a confession than if John had said it. Rodney doesn't want to push John into something more if he doesn't want it. That's not what friends do, and they are still that, will always be that.
"Why don't we try having just this for a while," Rodney takes John's hand and twines their fingers together. "If it doesn't work we can always come back and re-evaluate."
John looks doubtful. "I don't know..."
Which sounds like an open invitation for Rodney to prove all the wonderful ways this could work for them. He pulls John on top of him with their linked hands and kisses him. John kisses back and a little thrill goes through Rodney.
John groans in defeat as Rodney puts a possessive hand on his hip and pulls him closer so John can feel his rising interest. "A month," John murmurs against Rodney's skin, and oh yeah, his voice sounds good like that. "We'll see how things go for a month." John looks at him from under dark lashes. "Don't make me regret this, McKay."
Rodney smiles. "This is one decision you'll never regret." Rodney promises and kisses him slowly, taking the time he he hadn't the night before, learning all the places that makes John shiver and moan, then pulls him closer.
Rodney is inching the towel from around John's hips when the beeping starts. John stops kissing him and sighs sadly. "Is that my earpiece or yours?"
The question becomes moot when another beeping joins the first. Rodney reaches for his on the bedside table and puts it impatiently to his ear. "This better be fantastically good, as in finding me a crate full of ZedPM's."
"Good morning to you, too, Rodney," Zelenka replies, tinny and sharp through the little speaker. John kisses his shoulder and rolls away to pat down his pants for his own earpiece. Rodney momentarily regrets not turning the damn thing off last night like he usually does. "I know it's early--"
"Incredibly early. What do you want?"
"I was searching through the database early this morning and I found some information on early Ancient ZPM research--"
Rodney's lazy approval of John bending over while still in his towel dissolves. "Don't touch anything, in fact, don't even breathe on that information until I get there." He's already off the bed and searching for clothes as John finishes his own conversation with a muttered curse.
"I have a meeting with Lorne fifteen minutes ago." John looks both regretful and impatient. Rodney understands completely. He watches wistfully as John shimmies into his pants. Oh, what he wouldn't give to sleep in like a normal person some days.
"And I have a meeting with Zelenka." he says. The irritation at being interrupted is starting to fade into guarded hope. If Zelenka really did find some useful information on ZedPM research...
He and John get dressed, and at the door John pulls him into a kiss that warms him to his toes. "Have a good day, dear." John murmurs with one of his goofy smiles.
Rodney rolls his eyes. "Yes, yes, you too. Now, get out of my quarters."
Rodney is trying to push him out the door but John holds him back for a moment. "Radio me tonight?"
He looks hopeful, and so very cute when he asks like that. Rodney can't help but smile back. "Of course." He's said that so many times to placate or to stall, but Rodney means it this time.
John nods, satisfied. "Good."
The door swishes open and they go opposite ways.
He has to concentrate to keep the smile from his face. Before he turns the corner and out of John's sight he gets one more glimpse of him. John looks over his shoulder and gives him that unreadable smile - only it's not so unreadable any longer. It is sweet (he can't help but smile back), a touch of the tenderness he showed Rodney the night before (he isn't sure what to do with that yet) and wicked (a promise for later).
Rodney smiles back and turns the corner, out of sight and to his own transporter. Although the ZedPM possibilities are filling most of his attention, he finds himself looking forward to tonight. It feels like it's a first date, or a first kiss, but so much better, because it's for John. In a way he's glad he's waited until now to go down this path, because he's found someone who likes him for who he is - insecurities, hypochondria, crappy intra-personal skills and all.
In fact, he can't wait until tonight, and what's better, neither can John.
~end~
(no subject)
Date: 2013-01-27 08:06 pm (UTC)I'd love to read more SGA stories by you.
I might have a story or two rolling around this head of mine, but we'll see if they actually want to come out on paper or not.