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sga_flashfic2006-01-15 02:43 pm
scribewraith.livejournal.com) wrote in sga_flashfic2006-01-15 02:43 pm
Entry tags:
Drowning, with you by scribewraith (Amnesty/Enclosed Spaces)
Title: Drowning, with you
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
scribewraith
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: Adult/NC17
Wordcount: 3836
Challenge: Enclosed Spaces/Amnesty.
Notes: Thank you tooutthere, in_the_bottle, 0bake and ivy_says for betaing and advice on the story. Its a little dark but its also a little sweet ;)
Warning: Character Death
In the last moment, with water rushing in, and the city around him, Rodney thinks, "Death is beautiful."
***
He had woken in his bed, alone as usual. After 25 years together, postings across the Pegasus Galaxy and a stint back on Earth, it was a near constant. John would always wake up first and leave a mug of coffee warming by his bedside and then head off for a run or swim before starting work. Even now that they had retired and they only had each other to answer to, Rodney could count on this.
He shuffled out of bed, dropping his legs out and stretching as he stood up. His hand automatically reached out for the coffee which he picked up and drank. He walked into the bathroom to shave and shower, and piss, and he found it: in beside the mirror was a card with a picture of Atlantis on the cover. At first glance it looked like any of the tacky postcards that could be found in the gift shop that now took up Weir's old office - not quite the first thing you saw on arriving through the gate, but obvious enough that visiting tourists could pick up a card or a useless gift to take back home. But this card, he noticed as he picked it up, was much more personal than the gift shop cards.
It was hand inked and coloured using a technique that John had been shown on one of their later missions. Rodney had left John alone for a few minutes and John had been dragged into a religious sanctuary where, after desecrating a sacred altar, he had to stay for 23 days, a full cycle of their moon. At the time it had been hell; they had only just moved in together, sharing the same apartment they lived in now, and Rodney had missed the sensation of someone else in his bed. He had begged and pleaded and finally cajoled the priests to let John go. Then when John was finally returned to him, Rodney teased him and reminded him that it wasn't always Rodney that got them into trouble. In any case after receiving a trade agreement and a map to an ancient Atlantean temple, John had come home calmer, hornier and with a new skill in painting that had been honed through meditation and practice. He'd brushed it off as the only thing to do while there; Rodney hadn't realised that he was still practising.
He lifted the card off the sill and opened it to find a simple message: "Catch me if you can." Rodney grinned. It should be a fun day if John wanted to play.
They had started this game back when the Wraith, and then the Orii, were breathing down their necks. One of them would find somewhere secluded, off the main Atlantean sensors and away from the main flow of people, and the other would have to find him. Usually they would have lunch -- or dinner or breakfast -- and then fuck, under the skies or with the view out a window into one of the lower level rooms which were still, even now, below water.
Unfortunately for Rodney, Atlantis helped John play. He still didn't know how much Atlantis talked to John, or exactly how they communicated, but it was something that had gotten them out of more sticky situations than he wanted to remember and when they had returned to Atlantis after their posting back to
Earth, even he could feel the sigh of relief on John's part. He'd overheard some of the newer staff, in the cafeterias or when he was walking past in a corridor, murmuring about how much brighter Atlantis was recently and how much easier it was to interface with the technology. Rodney had walked away with a grin, glad that John's return had made Atlantis as happy as it had made John.
What having Atlantis on John's side meant to Rodney was that often sensors would malfunction or give out false signals and sections of the city would darken or brighten, tempting him further away from John's hiding place. Somehow he knew that the city would never harm him; John loved him too much, and Atlantis was more like an overgrown child than a jealous lover. It liked the game as much as they did, and once or twice he'd even noticed it helping him hide from John when John was taking it a little too seriously and needed a little calming down to make it fun.
Today he found John remarkably easily. Sure, no one else would know where they were, but John had left a clue with the picture he'd left: a section of the city that they had frequented when it was still quick fumbles in darkened corridors before returning to their assigned roles.
Atlantis, too, was making it easy, lighting up the passages towards rather than away from John, and as he got closer to the balcony he began to grin and then to jog. Obviously John was in a good mood. This had been the first place that they had kissed, and eventually got around to sucking each other off, and then fucking. John had whispered in his ear that the view from here was one of the best in Atlantis, and that he wanted to share it and make a good thing even better in his memories.
John was sitting with his legs through the bottom of the rails looking out into the distance across Atlantis and out to sea. There was a basket sitting beside him tied with a red ribbon and he could see a blanket edging its way over the top. Rodney sat down behind him, stretching his legs on either side and reaching his arms around to pull John back against himself.
"It's about time you got here," John whispered as he leant back into Rodney. "I'd nearly decided to go on my own and wouldn't that have been a pity?"
"Go where?" Rodney asked. They hadn't made any plans that he knew of. He'd figured he'd go down to the research labs, now run by one of the fourth wavers, and impede their research efforts. It was less fun calling the students incompetent and not worthy of his time, when all they did was sycophantically agree. Instead he had perfected ways to disturb their research through misguided questions and elderly concern. He didn't think himself old, but the research facility that remained mostly housed students who wouldn't yet be twenty-five. They tended to treat him more like a grandfather than an academic peer and Rodney enjoyed taking advantage of the liberties this allowed.
"Sailing." John smiled and turned to kiss his cheek, "you coming?" Rodney nodded and then stood up offering his hand for John to lever himself up. John dusted off his pants and then reached down for the basket that he held in one hand, offering the other for Rodney to hold.
"I've arranged for Lorne's nephew to ferry us across to the mainland, and Jinto promised that he'd keep a catamaran for us. Even you don't find them too hard to sail," John teased.
***
The wind on his cheeks felt amazing, he'd forgotten how good it felt to be out on the water like this. As much as John might tease him about his inability to really sail, this was something they both shared: a joy of being at the mercy of the winds, out on the seas where no one could find them and they could be alone together.
It was a small catamaran, but they didn't plan to go too far from the small town that had been built up around the second Stargate. With the wind in their sails they could tack backwards and forwards across the bay for hours: today wasn't meant to be an adventure.
He was sitting with his legs draping in the water and watching while John handled the sails. Even thought they were both older, and it showed in their bodies, he enjoyed watching the stretch and play of John's muscles as he moved. Rodney had, over the years, found it even harder to keep off a paunch, and he still enjoyed his sedentary lifestyle too much to put much effort into exercising. The promise of hereditary baldness had come into fruition and he now only had fine strands of hair that crossed across his head. He often threatened to grow what was left of his hair into a ponytail and wear it back like an aging hippy Lothario. John would threaten to shave all of his own hair off in retaliation and Rodney still enjoyed the wildness of it and running his fingers through it way too much. John's early morning runs paid off for him though and instead of aging disgracefully he looked more like Sean Connery had in his later days: grey with a slight bit of weight and his still piercing eyes. John had even tried growing the beard but they both felt it was a little too uncomfortable and he'd quickly gone back to his regular shaving routine.
John was pointing to shore and Rodney nodded. They didn't talk so much when they were sailing, the noise of the sea was often louder than they would be and Rodney didn't feel the need to shout to make himself heard. They flew quickly into the cove that John had pointed at, the sails catching the wind and practically pushing them there. They both leapt off the boat as it pulled up onto the beach and then pulled it a little further to secure it. John grabbed the basket and they walked across the sand to the tree line where it was a little shadier.
"Aren't you hot in that shirt, Rodney?" John asked as they started laying out the blanket. "I mean, in the wind the long sleeves aren't so bad, but now we're in the shade..." John was grinning at him as he pulled out a cooling box and started putting the sandwiches out for them to eat.
"You just want to get my clothes off, don't you?" Rodney returned, smirking. "You've got such a one track mind." He started pulling his shirt off and then bundled it into a pile so he could sit on it like a cushion. "Well, are you going to sit there or are you going to rub some lotion in? You know that you can get as much radiation from the reflection of the water and sand as you can from the direct sunlight. And I still don't plan on dying from skin cancer, even if we've got no need for fertile sperm." John was already pulling out the bottle of lotion from the basket and scooting over as Rodney asked. The feeling of John's hand, moist and cool from the lotion, against his back sent a shiver down his spine and he leant into the motion.
"You going to eat?" John asked. "I got some chocolate and strawberries for you for later but you've got to eat all of your lunch first."
"I'm not six, John. I can eat the chocolate first if I want."
John pulled his hand away from where it was circling on Rodney's back and after wiping his fingers on his shorts and shifting so he was lying on his side facing Rodney, he reached out for a sandwich. "Sure, you can Rodney. But if you do that, there won't be any left for later. When I'm ready for them."
"Oh," Rodney replied and grabbed one of the other sandwiches. "So how did you manage to organise all this anyway? It's more than I expected when I got your card this morning."
"I don't spend all of my time with you," John grinned. "I have a whole secret life that you know nothing about."
"I bet Atlantis would tell me. If she would talk to me like she does you." John poked his tongue out at him: it wasn't really a sore point between them, but Rodney liked to tease John about it. "Are you glad we're back?" Rodney asked.
"Yeah. It's kind of nice not having to be the one giving orders all the time, having to think of all the contingencies and the ways things could go so very wrong. And, you know, its still too soon for me to be bored yet." John reached out and touched Rodney's hand. "And hell, we're finally getting some of that holiday we always planned to have: no plans, no one telling us what to do, all the time in the world. And if it's in one of the prettiest places that we've ever been to, how could I be unhappy."
Rodney wiped his hand across his mouth getting rid of the crumbs and leaned down to kiss John. He pushed him back against the rug and fell on top of him. They both laughed and John reached up to pull him closer, hugging him. Rodney stopped laughing first, pausing as John looked up and reached to touch his face. He looked at John, for a second, and then whispered, "I love you, John." He leant further down and kissed him, slowly: because they had all the time in the world.
They didn't break apart from the kiss so much as breathe. John shuddered and then pulled Rodney closer, kissing him desperately. "You're still the best thing in the universe to me, Rodney," he whispered against Rodney's neck. Rodney could feel John's hands sliding across the lotion and down his back to slip into the top of his jeans. Rodney moaned. "I still want to spend the rest of my life with you."
John's tongue was running across his neck and chest and he could feel John trying to shift so he could get further down Rodney's body. Rodney just wanted to hold onto him but John's insistence often led to something rather pleasurable, and he wouldn't want him to think that he didn't return the sentiment. Rodney pushed up, holding his weight on his arms as he let John take what he wanted. John's hands slipped around his waist and pulled at the belt and then the buttons and zip before yanking his pants and boxers down as one. The breeze was chilly against his bare skin, but as usual when John convinced him to have sex, outdoors, in the middle of the day, he didn't care.
John's hand slipped around his cock, holding it and rubbing it gently and then he moaned again as John brought his mouth over the tip. He couldn't help but buck down at the sensation but John was expecting it and opened his mouth to take as much as he could. Rodney pulled back and John followed bringing his tongue into play. John and Rodney followed a rhythm they'd developed over the years, slow then fast, soft then hard. One of John's hands was now on Rodney's hips, the other thrust into his own pants, fisting and gripping as he tried to bring Rodney to completion. Rodney had been broken down into a series of sighs and moans and he could feel his orgasm seeping into his body.
"You know if you want to fuck me it's better before I come, right?" Rodney demanded, looking down at John.
John slipped Rodney's cock out of his mouth and replied, "Maybe I want you to come like this." He licked the tip of Rodney's very wet cock and Rodney gasped.
"Maybe I want to come with you fucking me hard," Rodney attempted to mimic John's voice. It was a little hard to get the intonation right when he was being distracted by the tension of his cock and the sensation of a tongue running its way along the head. It was John's turn to groan and he pulled away from Rodney's cock again.
"Ok, ok. Don't be so demanding," John teased back reaching for the lotion. Rodney knew how much John liked the demands. John poured some of the lotion out onto his hand and Rodney watched as he stroked it over his hardened cock.
"Wait," Rodney rolled over onto his back, grabbing his shirt and stuffing it under the small of his back; they were on sand after all and that's not the most comfortable of places to be fucked. "I want you like this." He spread his thighs and opened himself for John. John groaned and brought his fingers up to Rodney's arse. Rodney was already pretty ready: relaxed and horny, but John has always taken it slow, making sure, and it's better when he does. John slipped into him, sticky from the lotion, and Rodney could feel it throughout his body. He looked up at John and watched as John's breath tightened and they both began grunting and panting and thrusting.
"Harder," he demanded, "Now. More. Oh God, yes." The words are meaningless but they drive John to a greater depth and when John comes, Rodney is only seconds behind.
John pulled out and reached behind Rodney to grab his shirt, wiping the come off both their bodies. Rodney hadn't moved yet and when he realised what John was cleaning him with yelped, "Hey!" The smirk on John's face showed that he had done it deliberately. Rodney stood up, and holding his trousers up, walked down to the water. "See, water," he said and then washed the rest of the come off his chest.
John had joined him at the waters edge wrapping an arm around his shoulder and leaning gently on him. "So about those strawberries?" Rodney asked smiling and turned so that he could wrap his arms all the way around John's torso. "I guess I can eat them to my hearts content..."
***
The trip back starts uneventfully. They pack up the basket, not leaving anything behind, and John throws Rodney's shirt into the water, wringing it out and then throwing it wet at Rodney so that it makes a slapping sound. "See, all clean. And think of how much cooler you'll be in the breeze."
Rodney groans but pulls the shirt on and then helps push the Catamaran into the water. He jumps and slides back onto the wet tarpaulin, crouching and then standing to take his turn at the sails. This time it's John sitting watching and leaning back on the tarpaulin between the hulls, feet dragging in the water. Rodney pulls the sails across, cutting into the wind and they tack back across the cove towards civilization. It doesn't take them as long as it did to get out there: they are heading in as straight a line as the wind will take them.
The sun is glinting off the waves and the wind is rushing through what's left of Rodney's hair. He's looking down at John, who's looking back with an expression of pure joy on his face. It's a perfect moment.
And then John convulses. Rodney's not sure if he's seeing it right. He's not a doctor, but he's watching John gasping for breath and clasping at his chest. He doesn't even think about anything, but lets go of the sail and falls towards John, reaching out and grabbing him, holding him. They're in the middle of nowhere, and there's no Asgard technology to beam them out, all he can do is hold on.
It's quick at least and then Rodney is moving, in a daze, with only one thought: get home to Atlantis.
Once he gets to port, he drags John's body, carrying it over his shoulder and then commandeers the first puddle jumper he can see. Lorne's nephew had stayed in town waiting for them, but he's still away from the ship, probably with his Athosian girlfriend. Rodney pulls John and places him in the seat beside him; he closes the door behind him, ignoring the sounds from outside yelling at him, asking what he's doing with the ship. He can still pilot the thing, even if he was never as good as John, and he's on his way and in the air before anyone can stop him. He ignores the calls on the radio, thinking it off and the ship complies. It feels like it's going faster to get them home too.
Atlantis opens the door to the puddle jumper and he's on the floor dragging John with him, shouldering his body and the lights shine guiding him in the direction of their balcony. He barely registers the claxons, or the sounds of running people behind him. He falls into a transporter and from there he's only minutes away. Atlantis is making it easy for him, hiding him. He enters the room to the balcony and hears the door shut behind him, he carries John's body to the balcony and just sits holding him.
It's minutes before he finally realises that the buzzing in the back of his head is Atlantis. He can feel it telling him to leave John and to go back into the room. He's still in a daze as he does. Atlantis is mourning with him.
He feels it at first, the unsettling of Atlantis, but he doesn't realise what it means until he actually sees the water lapping at the door. He is standing with his hand against the glass trying to touch John, watching as the water laps and then covers John. The city doesn't stop sinking when John's gone, floating above them. It's as if it can't live without John, and it knows that Rodney's not sure he can either.
Rodney's safe in the room for what feels like hours, and the water he can see through the glass on both sides tells him that his is probably the only airtight room. Atlantis is comforting him, telling him that nobody else died, telling him that nobody else deserves to mourn John with them. Atlantis the city is empty and filled with water, everywhere except here.
And still the city sinks.
The water begins to seep into the room and he can feel Atlantis asking him what he wants. He's not sure, but then Atlantis is, it has always been able to hear exactly what John wants and it seems it can now tell Rodney's deepest desires.
He can't go on. Neither of them can.
It starts slowly, the doors opening slightly letting the water in. Atlantis is going to make it painless for both of them. He doesn't even feel his last gasps of breath or the water surrounding him. His last thought is that he should have been holding John, even now.
***
They eventually open the gate back into Atlantis and the MALP shows no sign of the water that they had expected. A team returns with another ZPM and slowly raise Atlantis back to the surface. Nobody who used to work there mentions that the city has become more mechanical, less responsive.
Author:
scribewraithPairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: Adult/NC17
Wordcount: 3836
Challenge: Enclosed Spaces/Amnesty.
Notes: Thank you to
outthere, in_the_bottle, 0bake and ivy_says for betaing and advice on the story. Its a little dark but its also a little sweet ;)Warning: Character Death
In the last moment, with water rushing in, and the city around him, Rodney thinks, "Death is beautiful."
***
He had woken in his bed, alone as usual. After 25 years together, postings across the Pegasus Galaxy and a stint back on Earth, it was a near constant. John would always wake up first and leave a mug of coffee warming by his bedside and then head off for a run or swim before starting work. Even now that they had retired and they only had each other to answer to, Rodney could count on this.
He shuffled out of bed, dropping his legs out and stretching as he stood up. His hand automatically reached out for the coffee which he picked up and drank. He walked into the bathroom to shave and shower, and piss, and he found it: in beside the mirror was a card with a picture of Atlantis on the cover. At first glance it looked like any of the tacky postcards that could be found in the gift shop that now took up Weir's old office - not quite the first thing you saw on arriving through the gate, but obvious enough that visiting tourists could pick up a card or a useless gift to take back home. But this card, he noticed as he picked it up, was much more personal than the gift shop cards.
It was hand inked and coloured using a technique that John had been shown on one of their later missions. Rodney had left John alone for a few minutes and John had been dragged into a religious sanctuary where, after desecrating a sacred altar, he had to stay for 23 days, a full cycle of their moon. At the time it had been hell; they had only just moved in together, sharing the same apartment they lived in now, and Rodney had missed the sensation of someone else in his bed. He had begged and pleaded and finally cajoled the priests to let John go. Then when John was finally returned to him, Rodney teased him and reminded him that it wasn't always Rodney that got them into trouble. In any case after receiving a trade agreement and a map to an ancient Atlantean temple, John had come home calmer, hornier and with a new skill in painting that had been honed through meditation and practice. He'd brushed it off as the only thing to do while there; Rodney hadn't realised that he was still practising.
He lifted the card off the sill and opened it to find a simple message: "Catch me if you can." Rodney grinned. It should be a fun day if John wanted to play.
They had started this game back when the Wraith, and then the Orii, were breathing down their necks. One of them would find somewhere secluded, off the main Atlantean sensors and away from the main flow of people, and the other would have to find him. Usually they would have lunch -- or dinner or breakfast -- and then fuck, under the skies or with the view out a window into one of the lower level rooms which were still, even now, below water.
Unfortunately for Rodney, Atlantis helped John play. He still didn't know how much Atlantis talked to John, or exactly how they communicated, but it was something that had gotten them out of more sticky situations than he wanted to remember and when they had returned to Atlantis after their posting back to
Earth, even he could feel the sigh of relief on John's part. He'd overheard some of the newer staff, in the cafeterias or when he was walking past in a corridor, murmuring about how much brighter Atlantis was recently and how much easier it was to interface with the technology. Rodney had walked away with a grin, glad that John's return had made Atlantis as happy as it had made John.
What having Atlantis on John's side meant to Rodney was that often sensors would malfunction or give out false signals and sections of the city would darken or brighten, tempting him further away from John's hiding place. Somehow he knew that the city would never harm him; John loved him too much, and Atlantis was more like an overgrown child than a jealous lover. It liked the game as much as they did, and once or twice he'd even noticed it helping him hide from John when John was taking it a little too seriously and needed a little calming down to make it fun.
Today he found John remarkably easily. Sure, no one else would know where they were, but John had left a clue with the picture he'd left: a section of the city that they had frequented when it was still quick fumbles in darkened corridors before returning to their assigned roles.
Atlantis, too, was making it easy, lighting up the passages towards rather than away from John, and as he got closer to the balcony he began to grin and then to jog. Obviously John was in a good mood. This had been the first place that they had kissed, and eventually got around to sucking each other off, and then fucking. John had whispered in his ear that the view from here was one of the best in Atlantis, and that he wanted to share it and make a good thing even better in his memories.
John was sitting with his legs through the bottom of the rails looking out into the distance across Atlantis and out to sea. There was a basket sitting beside him tied with a red ribbon and he could see a blanket edging its way over the top. Rodney sat down behind him, stretching his legs on either side and reaching his arms around to pull John back against himself.
"It's about time you got here," John whispered as he leant back into Rodney. "I'd nearly decided to go on my own and wouldn't that have been a pity?"
"Go where?" Rodney asked. They hadn't made any plans that he knew of. He'd figured he'd go down to the research labs, now run by one of the fourth wavers, and impede their research efforts. It was less fun calling the students incompetent and not worthy of his time, when all they did was sycophantically agree. Instead he had perfected ways to disturb their research through misguided questions and elderly concern. He didn't think himself old, but the research facility that remained mostly housed students who wouldn't yet be twenty-five. They tended to treat him more like a grandfather than an academic peer and Rodney enjoyed taking advantage of the liberties this allowed.
"Sailing." John smiled and turned to kiss his cheek, "you coming?" Rodney nodded and then stood up offering his hand for John to lever himself up. John dusted off his pants and then reached down for the basket that he held in one hand, offering the other for Rodney to hold.
"I've arranged for Lorne's nephew to ferry us across to the mainland, and Jinto promised that he'd keep a catamaran for us. Even you don't find them too hard to sail," John teased.
***
The wind on his cheeks felt amazing, he'd forgotten how good it felt to be out on the water like this. As much as John might tease him about his inability to really sail, this was something they both shared: a joy of being at the mercy of the winds, out on the seas where no one could find them and they could be alone together.
It was a small catamaran, but they didn't plan to go too far from the small town that had been built up around the second Stargate. With the wind in their sails they could tack backwards and forwards across the bay for hours: today wasn't meant to be an adventure.
He was sitting with his legs draping in the water and watching while John handled the sails. Even thought they were both older, and it showed in their bodies, he enjoyed watching the stretch and play of John's muscles as he moved. Rodney had, over the years, found it even harder to keep off a paunch, and he still enjoyed his sedentary lifestyle too much to put much effort into exercising. The promise of hereditary baldness had come into fruition and he now only had fine strands of hair that crossed across his head. He often threatened to grow what was left of his hair into a ponytail and wear it back like an aging hippy Lothario. John would threaten to shave all of his own hair off in retaliation and Rodney still enjoyed the wildness of it and running his fingers through it way too much. John's early morning runs paid off for him though and instead of aging disgracefully he looked more like Sean Connery had in his later days: grey with a slight bit of weight and his still piercing eyes. John had even tried growing the beard but they both felt it was a little too uncomfortable and he'd quickly gone back to his regular shaving routine.
John was pointing to shore and Rodney nodded. They didn't talk so much when they were sailing, the noise of the sea was often louder than they would be and Rodney didn't feel the need to shout to make himself heard. They flew quickly into the cove that John had pointed at, the sails catching the wind and practically pushing them there. They both leapt off the boat as it pulled up onto the beach and then pulled it a little further to secure it. John grabbed the basket and they walked across the sand to the tree line where it was a little shadier.
"Aren't you hot in that shirt, Rodney?" John asked as they started laying out the blanket. "I mean, in the wind the long sleeves aren't so bad, but now we're in the shade..." John was grinning at him as he pulled out a cooling box and started putting the sandwiches out for them to eat.
"You just want to get my clothes off, don't you?" Rodney returned, smirking. "You've got such a one track mind." He started pulling his shirt off and then bundled it into a pile so he could sit on it like a cushion. "Well, are you going to sit there or are you going to rub some lotion in? You know that you can get as much radiation from the reflection of the water and sand as you can from the direct sunlight. And I still don't plan on dying from skin cancer, even if we've got no need for fertile sperm." John was already pulling out the bottle of lotion from the basket and scooting over as Rodney asked. The feeling of John's hand, moist and cool from the lotion, against his back sent a shiver down his spine and he leant into the motion.
"You going to eat?" John asked. "I got some chocolate and strawberries for you for later but you've got to eat all of your lunch first."
"I'm not six, John. I can eat the chocolate first if I want."
John pulled his hand away from where it was circling on Rodney's back and after wiping his fingers on his shorts and shifting so he was lying on his side facing Rodney, he reached out for a sandwich. "Sure, you can Rodney. But if you do that, there won't be any left for later. When I'm ready for them."
"Oh," Rodney replied and grabbed one of the other sandwiches. "So how did you manage to organise all this anyway? It's more than I expected when I got your card this morning."
"I don't spend all of my time with you," John grinned. "I have a whole secret life that you know nothing about."
"I bet Atlantis would tell me. If she would talk to me like she does you." John poked his tongue out at him: it wasn't really a sore point between them, but Rodney liked to tease John about it. "Are you glad we're back?" Rodney asked.
"Yeah. It's kind of nice not having to be the one giving orders all the time, having to think of all the contingencies and the ways things could go so very wrong. And, you know, its still too soon for me to be bored yet." John reached out and touched Rodney's hand. "And hell, we're finally getting some of that holiday we always planned to have: no plans, no one telling us what to do, all the time in the world. And if it's in one of the prettiest places that we've ever been to, how could I be unhappy."
Rodney wiped his hand across his mouth getting rid of the crumbs and leaned down to kiss John. He pushed him back against the rug and fell on top of him. They both laughed and John reached up to pull him closer, hugging him. Rodney stopped laughing first, pausing as John looked up and reached to touch his face. He looked at John, for a second, and then whispered, "I love you, John." He leant further down and kissed him, slowly: because they had all the time in the world.
They didn't break apart from the kiss so much as breathe. John shuddered and then pulled Rodney closer, kissing him desperately. "You're still the best thing in the universe to me, Rodney," he whispered against Rodney's neck. Rodney could feel John's hands sliding across the lotion and down his back to slip into the top of his jeans. Rodney moaned. "I still want to spend the rest of my life with you."
John's tongue was running across his neck and chest and he could feel John trying to shift so he could get further down Rodney's body. Rodney just wanted to hold onto him but John's insistence often led to something rather pleasurable, and he wouldn't want him to think that he didn't return the sentiment. Rodney pushed up, holding his weight on his arms as he let John take what he wanted. John's hands slipped around his waist and pulled at the belt and then the buttons and zip before yanking his pants and boxers down as one. The breeze was chilly against his bare skin, but as usual when John convinced him to have sex, outdoors, in the middle of the day, he didn't care.
John's hand slipped around his cock, holding it and rubbing it gently and then he moaned again as John brought his mouth over the tip. He couldn't help but buck down at the sensation but John was expecting it and opened his mouth to take as much as he could. Rodney pulled back and John followed bringing his tongue into play. John and Rodney followed a rhythm they'd developed over the years, slow then fast, soft then hard. One of John's hands was now on Rodney's hips, the other thrust into his own pants, fisting and gripping as he tried to bring Rodney to completion. Rodney had been broken down into a series of sighs and moans and he could feel his orgasm seeping into his body.
"You know if you want to fuck me it's better before I come, right?" Rodney demanded, looking down at John.
John slipped Rodney's cock out of his mouth and replied, "Maybe I want you to come like this." He licked the tip of Rodney's very wet cock and Rodney gasped.
"Maybe I want to come with you fucking me hard," Rodney attempted to mimic John's voice. It was a little hard to get the intonation right when he was being distracted by the tension of his cock and the sensation of a tongue running its way along the head. It was John's turn to groan and he pulled away from Rodney's cock again.
"Ok, ok. Don't be so demanding," John teased back reaching for the lotion. Rodney knew how much John liked the demands. John poured some of the lotion out onto his hand and Rodney watched as he stroked it over his hardened cock.
"Wait," Rodney rolled over onto his back, grabbing his shirt and stuffing it under the small of his back; they were on sand after all and that's not the most comfortable of places to be fucked. "I want you like this." He spread his thighs and opened himself for John. John groaned and brought his fingers up to Rodney's arse. Rodney was already pretty ready: relaxed and horny, but John has always taken it slow, making sure, and it's better when he does. John slipped into him, sticky from the lotion, and Rodney could feel it throughout his body. He looked up at John and watched as John's breath tightened and they both began grunting and panting and thrusting.
"Harder," he demanded, "Now. More. Oh God, yes." The words are meaningless but they drive John to a greater depth and when John comes, Rodney is only seconds behind.
John pulled out and reached behind Rodney to grab his shirt, wiping the come off both their bodies. Rodney hadn't moved yet and when he realised what John was cleaning him with yelped, "Hey!" The smirk on John's face showed that he had done it deliberately. Rodney stood up, and holding his trousers up, walked down to the water. "See, water," he said and then washed the rest of the come off his chest.
John had joined him at the waters edge wrapping an arm around his shoulder and leaning gently on him. "So about those strawberries?" Rodney asked smiling and turned so that he could wrap his arms all the way around John's torso. "I guess I can eat them to my hearts content..."
***
The trip back starts uneventfully. They pack up the basket, not leaving anything behind, and John throws Rodney's shirt into the water, wringing it out and then throwing it wet at Rodney so that it makes a slapping sound. "See, all clean. And think of how much cooler you'll be in the breeze."
Rodney groans but pulls the shirt on and then helps push the Catamaran into the water. He jumps and slides back onto the wet tarpaulin, crouching and then standing to take his turn at the sails. This time it's John sitting watching and leaning back on the tarpaulin between the hulls, feet dragging in the water. Rodney pulls the sails across, cutting into the wind and they tack back across the cove towards civilization. It doesn't take them as long as it did to get out there: they are heading in as straight a line as the wind will take them.
The sun is glinting off the waves and the wind is rushing through what's left of Rodney's hair. He's looking down at John, who's looking back with an expression of pure joy on his face. It's a perfect moment.
And then John convulses. Rodney's not sure if he's seeing it right. He's not a doctor, but he's watching John gasping for breath and clasping at his chest. He doesn't even think about anything, but lets go of the sail and falls towards John, reaching out and grabbing him, holding him. They're in the middle of nowhere, and there's no Asgard technology to beam them out, all he can do is hold on.
It's quick at least and then Rodney is moving, in a daze, with only one thought: get home to Atlantis.
Once he gets to port, he drags John's body, carrying it over his shoulder and then commandeers the first puddle jumper he can see. Lorne's nephew had stayed in town waiting for them, but he's still away from the ship, probably with his Athosian girlfriend. Rodney pulls John and places him in the seat beside him; he closes the door behind him, ignoring the sounds from outside yelling at him, asking what he's doing with the ship. He can still pilot the thing, even if he was never as good as John, and he's on his way and in the air before anyone can stop him. He ignores the calls on the radio, thinking it off and the ship complies. It feels like it's going faster to get them home too.
Atlantis opens the door to the puddle jumper and he's on the floor dragging John with him, shouldering his body and the lights shine guiding him in the direction of their balcony. He barely registers the claxons, or the sounds of running people behind him. He falls into a transporter and from there he's only minutes away. Atlantis is making it easy for him, hiding him. He enters the room to the balcony and hears the door shut behind him, he carries John's body to the balcony and just sits holding him.
It's minutes before he finally realises that the buzzing in the back of his head is Atlantis. He can feel it telling him to leave John and to go back into the room. He's still in a daze as he does. Atlantis is mourning with him.
He feels it at first, the unsettling of Atlantis, but he doesn't realise what it means until he actually sees the water lapping at the door. He is standing with his hand against the glass trying to touch John, watching as the water laps and then covers John. The city doesn't stop sinking when John's gone, floating above them. It's as if it can't live without John, and it knows that Rodney's not sure he can either.
Rodney's safe in the room for what feels like hours, and the water he can see through the glass on both sides tells him that his is probably the only airtight room. Atlantis is comforting him, telling him that nobody else died, telling him that nobody else deserves to mourn John with them. Atlantis the city is empty and filled with water, everywhere except here.
And still the city sinks.
The water begins to seep into the room and he can feel Atlantis asking him what he wants. He's not sure, but then Atlantis is, it has always been able to hear exactly what John wants and it seems it can now tell Rodney's deepest desires.
He can't go on. Neither of them can.
It starts slowly, the doors opening slightly letting the water in. Atlantis is going to make it painless for both of them. He doesn't even feel his last gasps of breath or the water surrounding him. His last thought is that he should have been holding John, even now.
***
They eventually open the gate back into Atlantis and the MALP shows no sign of the water that they had expected. A team returns with another ZPM and slowly raise Atlantis back to the surface. Nobody who used to work there mentions that the city has become more mechanical, less responsive.
no subject
Beautiful, but so so sad.
I love your Atlantis.
:-) xx
no subject
I kinda love my atlantis too ;)