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sga_flashficTitle: Maybe He Didn’t
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kyrieane
Rating: Adult (Here there be slash)
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay
Summary: Established. What defines a lover? By whose definition?
Disclaimer: Not mine, if they were? Their clothes would be invisible. And missing, and possibly alien-proof, but don’t hold me to that!
AN: Very stream-of-consciousness. This didn’t turn out exactly like I’d envisioned, the muse, she is a strange and fickle creature.
Rodney doesn’t stay and John doesn’t ask him to. John never takes off his watch, and Rodney usually keeps his socks on no matter how idiotic they made him look. John has to come looking for Rodney, and he always leads Rodney back to his room, never the other way around. John set up the rules, and Rodney follows them, no matter what.
And now John was changing them.
John fucked him face to face. For the first time in six months Rodney got to see the look on John’s face when he slid in, when he wrapped his fingers around Rodney’s dick and jacked him off. Rodney watched when John’s face tightened up and his eyes went almost black as he came and came and came.
Rodney didn’t say anything when he got dressed, just watched John roll over to the dry half of the bed and fall asleep. He didn’t say anything when John brought him lunch the next day either, just watched John smile and walk out of the room without looking back.
Rodney let it play in the back of his mind, let it tumble around like the rocks he’d once fished out of the Green River in Colorado and taken to a stone shop, just to see what the stones looked like inside of the calcium and ancient dirt that encased them. And when he was done, they still looked just like river rocks, only smoother. For the life of him, Rodney couldn’t see whatever was under John’s cocky smile or his guarded hazel eyes.
When everything quit tumbling, Rodney didn’t know anymore than he’d started out with, except he was hungry again and tired and he’d been looking at this same artifact for way too long. And he needed a shower.
John was waiting at Rodney’s door, standing there with his arms crossed over his chest and his back pressed against the wall like he was holding it up or something. Staring. At Rodney. Watching Rodney walk down the corridor like he’d never seen him before. And maybe he hadn’t.
Rodney thought open and the door slid obediently, John didn’t follow him in, just stood there waiting for something. It took Rodney too many seconds to figure it out, and then he waved John in.
Now John was smiling, that stupid dopey smile he gave Teyla the first time he saw her, the same one he seduced Chaya with, and now he turned it on Rodney.
Rodney couldn’t stand it, couldn’t stand that John looked at him like this now, when he already had Rodney. So he didn’t look back, just stared around the room, realizing that the rules weren’t the only changes in progress.
The bed had been made, a clean blanket taken from somewhere other than the supply closet was tucked around his pillow and a second one that had been taken from the supply closet. The little table where he sat to work on all the paper’s he’d never be able to publish had been cleared off, a clean white cloth had been draped over it and set with mismatched Atlantean dinnerware.
“I need a shower.” And that was all he could think to say, John just nodded and let him go. He had his eyes closed and soap all over his face when the draft hit, when soft fingers started gliding over his shoulder blades and a voice was whispering in his ear.
“Just let me do this.” His head was tipped forward, strong fingers working rinsing the suds from his face and down his neck. Back, and cold gel being squirted on the top of his head and pushed through his hair. John didn’t say anything else, and Rodney let him, just taking this for…whatever it was.
Wash, rinse, repeat. Top to bottom and front to back and he’d been having sex for half his life and Rodney had never ever ever felt anything like this. Then John turned the water off, and Rodney only almost whimpered. The towel in John’s hands wasn’t regulation, it was soft and absorbent, and something about it left ‘touch me’ tags on his skin because every spot that John dried, he touched. With his fingers, mouth, tongue. And when he tried to reciprocate, John just brushed his hands away and smiled, he’d dried off by rubbing against Rodney.
John watched him while he got dressed, with an oddly half bemused half disappointed expression that Rodney really didn’t understand. This had been their first shower together, but there hadn’t been any sex. And John was handing him his clothes, piece by piece, when usually the sight of a naked Rodney made John strip fast enough to raise non-existent dust. So he put on everything but his shoes and socks, and didn’t that make this that much weirder? He always had his socks on, but John just kept smiling and led Rodney out to the table barefoot.
Somehow Rodney wasn’t surprised that dinner was still hot, thin slices of some transplanted alien cow in a thick brown sauce, vegetables he should have recognized, steaming slices of flat bread that didn’t smell like yeast but still smelled good. John sat in the opposite chair and poured home-brew wine, the dark blue jug vaguely familiar, and Rodney trusted John enough to know it wouldn’t kill him.
“Tell me about your day.” John passed the bread, blinking so slowly Rodney could see his lashes waving with the motion. Rodney still didn’t know what to say, what to think. This was the closest thing to normal he’s seen since spending Christmas at his grandma’s house when he was seven, and every single relative who had a drop of McKay blood had shown up. If he thought about it, he could still taste the pork roast and the spiced apple brandy, could smell the balsam candles grandma had lit and placed in every windowsill of the house then warned the kids not to knock over; otherwise Father Christmas wouldn’t be able to find them.
“I didn’t ask for this, Major.” There was just a moment where John looked like he was burying the family dog; something inside Rodney broke at that, like it was his fault somehow. Then John shook it off and smiled that smile again.
“Can’t I do something nice for my lover now and then? I do have a romantic streak you know.” Rodney wondered if Carson could detect pod people, because while John did have a romantic streak, it never happened where Rodney was concerned. They weren’t lovers; anymore he was lucky if they were friends. John would get that look in his eyes; Rodney would get hard and bend over. There was no touching, no kissing, no babbled breathy sex words that usually came when your brains were exploding out of the end of your dick. Just a fuck, nothing more, nothing less. Those were the rules. And Goddamn Major John Sheppard for changing the rules in the middle of the game.
“I didn’t ask for this.” He can’t help it, it’s stuck and until he can figure it out, it’s going to stay stuck. John just sighed and got that ‘bury the family dog’ look again.
“You never ask for anything, Rodney.” And even though Rodney hasn’t touched his wine or tasted his food, John offers him more. Rodney gets the idea that wherever this is going, it’s going to leave him very alone and very pissed.
“I ask you for things all the time, Major.” He can’t stay still anymore, it’s over but John is going to draw it out and make it ugly and loud and make it hurt. Rodney pushes away from the table, getting away from John, away from reaching out and begging.
“Not here you don’t.” It’s not good enough, not far enough, John has to get up and follow him. Walks across the room and stands just behind Rodney.
“We aren’t lovers.” And that’s the crux of it, isn’t it? They weren’t lovers, and Rodney knew better than to ask. Refused to ask for something he had no hopes of ever getting.
“Touch me.” Rodney actually stuck his finger in his ear and wiggled it, gave John a look that said Excuse me? Come again? I could have sworn you said…
“Touch me, Rodney, please.”
It was a bridge to cross, a bridge to burn. It was go forth young man and don’t look back, don’t ever look back. It was irrevocable. Rodney watched his hand float up, tied to strings that somebody else controlled, watched it hover and tremble and finally scrape against John’s cheek. Watched John’s eyes half close and his lips half open. Felt John lean into his hand like he’d never been touched before. And maybe he hadn’t. Rodney had just a moment to decide getting dressed was a really stupid idea, then John turned his head and kissed the inside of Rodney’s wrist.
Rodney abandoned every regret he’d ever had, every little piece of what if and could I have done and why didn’t I, he turned his back on every single person who’d ever said it wasn’t enough and could you do better, every sneer and snide remark anybody had ever said to him. Because this? This is what every heartbeat had ever driven him to do, what every formula and equation equaled out to. John pressing his lips against that soft patch of skin that covered his vein was the only reason he’d stepped through the stargate and traveled to another galaxy. This was the reason he was born.
John put his hand on Rodney’s hip, stepping in closer.
“More, please.” John kept his mouth against Rodney’s wrist, whispered the words and sent gooseflesh racing up his arm. Rodney watched his marionette hands strip John, pull his military issue shirt up over his non-military issue hair, and push off his military issue BDU’s down off his non-military issue bare feet. And he touched all the places John had never let him touch before. Swept his thumbs over nipples that should have been brown but were more of a pink color, over sparse chest hair that should have been coarse but wasn’t, down over abs that should have been steady but trembled under his caress.
“What do you want from me?” There, that was asking for something, wasn’t it? Asking for an answer counted. John’s breath hitched in his throat, and for a moment Rodney was afraid he wasn’t going to answer, and then John stepped in close enough that Rodney could feel the heat through his own clothes.
“I want you to want me. I want you to feel like I do every time I touch you, taste you, fuck you. I want you to…” John dipped his head in to press against Rodney’s neck, breathing down on his collarbone, “Can you do that?”
Rodney wondered if it was making love when you touched another guy gently, when you were tender and kissed little patches of skin and blew across the hairs on the back of his neck. He wondered if it was making love when you hunted for all those spots that made the other guy whimper and cry out softly and bite his lip, and then you licked that spot and kissed it and made it all better. He wondered if anybody had ever actually made love to John before, if anybody had looked for all those spots and touched them, made John lose that iron control and just cry out. He wondered if this was that. And then he really didn’t care, because for better or worse come hell or high water, that’s exactly what he was going to do to John.
Author:
kyrieaneRating: Adult (Here there be slash)
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay
Summary: Established. What defines a lover? By whose definition?
Disclaimer: Not mine, if they were? Their clothes would be invisible. And missing, and possibly alien-proof, but don’t hold me to that!
AN: Very stream-of-consciousness. This didn’t turn out exactly like I’d envisioned, the muse, she is a strange and fickle creature.
Rodney doesn’t stay and John doesn’t ask him to. John never takes off his watch, and Rodney usually keeps his socks on no matter how idiotic they made him look. John has to come looking for Rodney, and he always leads Rodney back to his room, never the other way around. John set up the rules, and Rodney follows them, no matter what.
And now John was changing them.
John fucked him face to face. For the first time in six months Rodney got to see the look on John’s face when he slid in, when he wrapped his fingers around Rodney’s dick and jacked him off. Rodney watched when John’s face tightened up and his eyes went almost black as he came and came and came.
Rodney didn’t say anything when he got dressed, just watched John roll over to the dry half of the bed and fall asleep. He didn’t say anything when John brought him lunch the next day either, just watched John smile and walk out of the room without looking back.
Rodney let it play in the back of his mind, let it tumble around like the rocks he’d once fished out of the Green River in Colorado and taken to a stone shop, just to see what the stones looked like inside of the calcium and ancient dirt that encased them. And when he was done, they still looked just like river rocks, only smoother. For the life of him, Rodney couldn’t see whatever was under John’s cocky smile or his guarded hazel eyes.
When everything quit tumbling, Rodney didn’t know anymore than he’d started out with, except he was hungry again and tired and he’d been looking at this same artifact for way too long. And he needed a shower.
John was waiting at Rodney’s door, standing there with his arms crossed over his chest and his back pressed against the wall like he was holding it up or something. Staring. At Rodney. Watching Rodney walk down the corridor like he’d never seen him before. And maybe he hadn’t.
Rodney thought open and the door slid obediently, John didn’t follow him in, just stood there waiting for something. It took Rodney too many seconds to figure it out, and then he waved John in.
Now John was smiling, that stupid dopey smile he gave Teyla the first time he saw her, the same one he seduced Chaya with, and now he turned it on Rodney.
Rodney couldn’t stand it, couldn’t stand that John looked at him like this now, when he already had Rodney. So he didn’t look back, just stared around the room, realizing that the rules weren’t the only changes in progress.
The bed had been made, a clean blanket taken from somewhere other than the supply closet was tucked around his pillow and a second one that had been taken from the supply closet. The little table where he sat to work on all the paper’s he’d never be able to publish had been cleared off, a clean white cloth had been draped over it and set with mismatched Atlantean dinnerware.
“I need a shower.” And that was all he could think to say, John just nodded and let him go. He had his eyes closed and soap all over his face when the draft hit, when soft fingers started gliding over his shoulder blades and a voice was whispering in his ear.
“Just let me do this.” His head was tipped forward, strong fingers working rinsing the suds from his face and down his neck. Back, and cold gel being squirted on the top of his head and pushed through his hair. John didn’t say anything else, and Rodney let him, just taking this for…whatever it was.
Wash, rinse, repeat. Top to bottom and front to back and he’d been having sex for half his life and Rodney had never ever ever felt anything like this. Then John turned the water off, and Rodney only almost whimpered. The towel in John’s hands wasn’t regulation, it was soft and absorbent, and something about it left ‘touch me’ tags on his skin because every spot that John dried, he touched. With his fingers, mouth, tongue. And when he tried to reciprocate, John just brushed his hands away and smiled, he’d dried off by rubbing against Rodney.
John watched him while he got dressed, with an oddly half bemused half disappointed expression that Rodney really didn’t understand. This had been their first shower together, but there hadn’t been any sex. And John was handing him his clothes, piece by piece, when usually the sight of a naked Rodney made John strip fast enough to raise non-existent dust. So he put on everything but his shoes and socks, and didn’t that make this that much weirder? He always had his socks on, but John just kept smiling and led Rodney out to the table barefoot.
Somehow Rodney wasn’t surprised that dinner was still hot, thin slices of some transplanted alien cow in a thick brown sauce, vegetables he should have recognized, steaming slices of flat bread that didn’t smell like yeast but still smelled good. John sat in the opposite chair and poured home-brew wine, the dark blue jug vaguely familiar, and Rodney trusted John enough to know it wouldn’t kill him.
“Tell me about your day.” John passed the bread, blinking so slowly Rodney could see his lashes waving with the motion. Rodney still didn’t know what to say, what to think. This was the closest thing to normal he’s seen since spending Christmas at his grandma’s house when he was seven, and every single relative who had a drop of McKay blood had shown up. If he thought about it, he could still taste the pork roast and the spiced apple brandy, could smell the balsam candles grandma had lit and placed in every windowsill of the house then warned the kids not to knock over; otherwise Father Christmas wouldn’t be able to find them.
“I didn’t ask for this, Major.” There was just a moment where John looked like he was burying the family dog; something inside Rodney broke at that, like it was his fault somehow. Then John shook it off and smiled that smile again.
“Can’t I do something nice for my lover now and then? I do have a romantic streak you know.” Rodney wondered if Carson could detect pod people, because while John did have a romantic streak, it never happened where Rodney was concerned. They weren’t lovers; anymore he was lucky if they were friends. John would get that look in his eyes; Rodney would get hard and bend over. There was no touching, no kissing, no babbled breathy sex words that usually came when your brains were exploding out of the end of your dick. Just a fuck, nothing more, nothing less. Those were the rules. And Goddamn Major John Sheppard for changing the rules in the middle of the game.
“I didn’t ask for this.” He can’t help it, it’s stuck and until he can figure it out, it’s going to stay stuck. John just sighed and got that ‘bury the family dog’ look again.
“You never ask for anything, Rodney.” And even though Rodney hasn’t touched his wine or tasted his food, John offers him more. Rodney gets the idea that wherever this is going, it’s going to leave him very alone and very pissed.
“I ask you for things all the time, Major.” He can’t stay still anymore, it’s over but John is going to draw it out and make it ugly and loud and make it hurt. Rodney pushes away from the table, getting away from John, away from reaching out and begging.
“Not here you don’t.” It’s not good enough, not far enough, John has to get up and follow him. Walks across the room and stands just behind Rodney.
“We aren’t lovers.” And that’s the crux of it, isn’t it? They weren’t lovers, and Rodney knew better than to ask. Refused to ask for something he had no hopes of ever getting.
“Touch me.” Rodney actually stuck his finger in his ear and wiggled it, gave John a look that said Excuse me? Come again? I could have sworn you said…
“Touch me, Rodney, please.”
It was a bridge to cross, a bridge to burn. It was go forth young man and don’t look back, don’t ever look back. It was irrevocable. Rodney watched his hand float up, tied to strings that somebody else controlled, watched it hover and tremble and finally scrape against John’s cheek. Watched John’s eyes half close and his lips half open. Felt John lean into his hand like he’d never been touched before. And maybe he hadn’t. Rodney had just a moment to decide getting dressed was a really stupid idea, then John turned his head and kissed the inside of Rodney’s wrist.
Rodney abandoned every regret he’d ever had, every little piece of what if and could I have done and why didn’t I, he turned his back on every single person who’d ever said it wasn’t enough and could you do better, every sneer and snide remark anybody had ever said to him. Because this? This is what every heartbeat had ever driven him to do, what every formula and equation equaled out to. John pressing his lips against that soft patch of skin that covered his vein was the only reason he’d stepped through the stargate and traveled to another galaxy. This was the reason he was born.
John put his hand on Rodney’s hip, stepping in closer.
“More, please.” John kept his mouth against Rodney’s wrist, whispered the words and sent gooseflesh racing up his arm. Rodney watched his marionette hands strip John, pull his military issue shirt up over his non-military issue hair, and push off his military issue BDU’s down off his non-military issue bare feet. And he touched all the places John had never let him touch before. Swept his thumbs over nipples that should have been brown but were more of a pink color, over sparse chest hair that should have been coarse but wasn’t, down over abs that should have been steady but trembled under his caress.
“What do you want from me?” There, that was asking for something, wasn’t it? Asking for an answer counted. John’s breath hitched in his throat, and for a moment Rodney was afraid he wasn’t going to answer, and then John stepped in close enough that Rodney could feel the heat through his own clothes.
“I want you to want me. I want you to feel like I do every time I touch you, taste you, fuck you. I want you to…” John dipped his head in to press against Rodney’s neck, breathing down on his collarbone, “Can you do that?”
Rodney wondered if it was making love when you touched another guy gently, when you were tender and kissed little patches of skin and blew across the hairs on the back of his neck. He wondered if it was making love when you hunted for all those spots that made the other guy whimper and cry out softly and bite his lip, and then you licked that spot and kissed it and made it all better. He wondered if anybody had ever actually made love to John before, if anybody had looked for all those spots and touched them, made John lose that iron control and just cry out. He wondered if this was that. And then he really didn’t care, because for better or worse come hell or high water, that’s exactly what he was going to do to John.
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(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-27 03:35 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-27 01:26 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-27 03:43 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-27 01:26 pm (UTC)Thank you so much! I'm so very glad you liked!!!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-27 03:50 am (UTC)Interesting and well-written. No, very interesting and... it feels like another shoe is about to drop or am I paranoid?
(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-27 01:25 pm (UTC)Thank you so very much! And as far as I can tell, there is no other shoe to drop, my muse ras reserved the right to change that at her whim. Thanks!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-27 04:02 am (UTC)That last paragraph is a thing of beauty.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-27 01:24 pm (UTC)The opening paragraph and the ending paragraph were actually written first, everything else just seemed to fit right in! Thank you so very much!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-27 04:47 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-27 01:22 pm (UTC)Thank you so much! I'm so very grateful for the warm welcome I've gotten from this community!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-27 05:24 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-27 01:21 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-27 05:37 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-27 01:19 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-27 07:09 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-27 01:19 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-27 07:44 am (UTC)That was taking the heart and squeezing until I couldn't breathe anymore.
God, what a beauty. There is nothing more erotic, soothing and perfect than deliberate touch.
Thank you. Thank you .
(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-27 01:18 pm (UTC)Thank you so much! This was the first e-mail I opened this morning, and you've given me such a great big smile! Thank you!
please touch me
Date: 2005-06-27 09:51 am (UTC)That's love-ly. Only the word sounds too slight right now. So does "established". It's not, it's becoming better ... The third paragraph was already hot. Then I liked how Rodney does not want to be looked at like Teyla (with an e). And I'm a wuss?soft-person and love that he might be the first to "make love" to John.
Re: please touch me
Date: 2005-06-27 01:16 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-27 01:06 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-27 01:10 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-27 04:38 pm (UTC)Very nicely written!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-27 05:56 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-27 05:09 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-27 05:55 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-27 05:49 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-27 05:54 pm (UTC)Thank you so very much! You are an author I greatly admire, and to have this feedback from you just tickles me a multitude of pinks!
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-27 08:06 pm (UTC)This slayed me:
“We aren’t lovers.” And that’s the crux of it, isn’t it? They weren’t lovers, and Rodney knew better than to ask. Refused to ask for something he had no hopes of ever getting.
And then the “Touch me, Rodney, please.” Wow!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-28 12:52 am (UTC)Thanks so much sweetie! I'm so glad you enjoyed!!!!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-28 12:45 am (UTC)Rodney let it play in the back of his mind, let it tumble around like the rocks he’d once fished out of the Green River in Colorado and taken to a stone shop, just to see what the stones looked like inside of the calcium and ancient dirt that encased them. And when he was done, they still looked just like river rocks, only smoother. For the life of him, Rodney couldn’t see whatever was under John’s cocky smile or his guarded hazel eyes.
Was my absolute favorite bit. That's just such a great, great analogy to the way we sometimes think-without-thinking about things.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-28 12:55 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-28 04:45 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-29 07:44 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-29 10:47 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-29 07:44 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-29 03:32 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-29 07:45 pm (UTC)Thanks sweetie! I just have bois running all over the place now!
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-29 06:35 pm (UTC)YEAH. Just.....yeah.
Thank you for sharing.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-29 07:46 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-29 08:28 pm (UTC)I loved how you managed to write it in a really very very romantic way without going over the top. *happysigh* Thank you!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-30 09:42 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-06-30 10:10 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-01 12:05 am (UTC)Thats me, huge idiot grin. Thank you so very very much! Does this make me fluent in 3 fandoms?
::mwah::
(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-01 09:38 pm (UTC)That broke me.
Guh.
:)
(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-02 12:00 am (UTC)Glad you liked! Thank you so much!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-02 06:08 am (UTC)And this part? Perfect.
Rodney abandoned every regret he’d ever had, every little piece of what if and could I have done and why didn’t I, he turned his back on every single person who’d ever said it wasn’t enough and could you do better, every sneer and snide remark anybody had ever said to him. Because this? This is what every heartbeat had ever driven him to do, what every formula and equation equaled out to.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-02 02:46 pm (UTC)Romantic
Date: 2005-07-02 02:06 pm (UTC)This was so romantic....and a great take on the challenge!
Rodney abandoned every regret he’d ever had, every little piece of what if and could I have done and why didn’t I, he turned his back on every single person who’d ever said it wasn’t enough and could you do better, every sneer and snide remark anybody had ever said to him....
loved that!
This was also fantastic:
This was the closest thing to normal he’s seen since spending Christmas at his grandma’s house when he was seven, and every single relative who had a drop of McKay blood had shown up. If he thought about it, he could still taste the pork roast and the spiced apple brandy, could smell the balsam candles grandma had lit and placed in every windowsill of the house then warned the kids not to knock over; otherwise Father Christmas wouldn’t be able to find them.
And John was so brave: I want you to want me.
Thanks for posting this story, it was wonderful!
wags,
springwoof
Re: Romantic
Date: 2005-07-02 02:48 pm (UTC)