The Postcard (Left Behind Challenge)
Mar. 16th, 2006 09:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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sga_flashficTitle: The Postcard (White Sands Mirror)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
amothea
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Deals with aftermath of a rape. Not graphic.
Word Count: 1,100
Written for: The![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
sga_flashfic challenge: "Left Behind."
Author Note: I'd like to thankkyrieane for her help in beta reading this story, and fatuorum for giving me the idea to write a mirror to this story.
"John," Rodney gasped against John's neck, the warm puff of air and moist tongue driving him closer to the edge. His hips thrust up, his cock meeting the soft flesh of Rodney's hot stomach. He needed the contact; Rodney's idea of foreplay was driving him insane.
"Please..." John begged when Rodney used his hands to push his hips back down and sat up, resting his weight briefly on John's joined thighs. Rodney's hands stayed busy, pinching his nipples, just the way that John loved, and lightly running the tips of his fingers over his chest. Hyperaware of every movement, his dick jumped from the sensations. John clutched the sweat-rumpled sheets in his damp hands.
Rodney insinuated one leg between John's thighs, parting them further as he lowered his head, and sucked on John's nipples. Lost in ecstasy, John didn't notice the absence of one of Rodney's hands on his hips, until he felt a nudge against his perineum, when one of Rodney's fingers sank into his body.
John's reaction was immediate. He let go of the sheets, used one hand to pull Rodney's sweaty arm, and the other grabbed the wrist between his legs. "No," his voice broke, "Rodney." Suddenly, afraid that Rodney wouldn't stop, except he could feel that Rodney had stilled.
"John..." Rodney didn't remove his finger when he looked up, "I'm just using my finger...you never said anything against this." John couldn't explain.
Erection mostly gone, John fought against the urge to struggle free from the suffocating weight holding him down. "I'm saying it now." His voice was edgy with barely suppressed panic; he could feel a headache coming on.
Rodney sighed and rested his forehead against John's chest. "John," he sounded sexually frustrated, "I won't hurt you, I swear." The finger moved in a little further as if to prove a point.
"I'm going to hit you if you don't let me up now."
Rodney pulled away, his wrist pulled free from John's feeble grip and he sat up on the edge of the bed. John scooted up on the bed and pulled the sheet over his lap, until he could get his body under control again. Part of him felt out of control and scared, the other part was furious at Rodney. He told Rodney months ago what his limits were, why did he keep pushing?
They didn't speak. Rodney sat on the edge of the bed, sweating slightly, breathing heavily, and erection still heavy. Rodney didn't say anything as he reached down and sorted through the clothing haphazardly thrown onto the floor. He found his shirt and pulled it over his head, boxers went on next, and then pants. The whole time dressing Rodney refused to look at him, and now that the panic was gone, John felt hollow. He cursed the men in his memories, and his own cowardice. Rodney threw him one last, hurt look before he left John's room.
******
The next day at breakfast, they didn't speak to each other, and John wanted to yell at him that last night's disaster was Rodney's fault, but he only had to remember all the times Rodney gave himself so selflessly to John. Rodney had no way of knowing why John couldn't do the same back.
At 1045, Lorne showed up carrying a large package. He dropped it on his desk. "What's this?" John didn't wait for an answer before he took his knife and cut the tie around the box, and then the tape holding the two top flaps together.
"Postcards, sir. Remember Weir wanted to set up a informal post office? Apparently post cards weigh less than letters. Anyway, she gave these to me to give to you to set up in the cafeteria."
"How thoughtful," He said trying to figure out how they were going to show off what must be over one hundred cards stuffed in a box. Did they even have wire racks? "I'll sort through these." And because he wasn't up for company, he added, "Alone."
"Yes sir," Lorne saluted and left his office. John sat back down in his chair and stared at the box, feeling way off his game today. He just hoped nothing happened that required his full attention. With a reluctant sigh, he stood back up and began to remove the cards from the box. They came in a variety of pictures. Cats, Dogs, prairies, "Yellowstone National Park", a few windmills, and then he saw a picture that made his mouth go dry, "White Sand's National Park."
His mind flashed back to the last time he ever visited the park. John, his father, aunt, uncle, his cousin Richard had stopped there on their way to the Grand Canyon, John never made it that far. Richard and him spent the day sliding down sand dunes, horse playing, and exploring. On the way back their campsite, walking along the road, it happened.
A van pulling a silver travel trailer stopped next to them and a smiling man rolled down the window and asked for directions to the nearest campsite. John stepped closer so he wouldn't have to yell the directions and before he realized his danger the van's sliding door opened and another man grabbed him and yanked him inside.
Richard only two years younger than him did the most sensible thing and ran away from the road screaming for help. He remembered kicking and screaming as the van's door slid close, and the man behind him yelled at the driver to get going. The next three weeks that followed he did his best to forget ever happened. Only he hadn't, and he was about to lose Rodney because of it.
Terrified, John grabbed his pen and hastily scribbled down the secret he hadn't ever told anyone else. He left the rest of the cards on his desk and walked to the science lab, when he arrived it was mercifully empty. John stood in front of Rodney's laptop for ten minutes before he said fuck it, and placed the post card right where it couldn't be missed. He left the lab before he could change his mind. He just wished he could leave the past behind that easily.
Author:
amotheaFandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Deals with aftermath of a rape. Not graphic.
Word Count: 1,100
Written for: The
sga_flashfic challenge: "Left Behind."Author Note: I'd like to thank
kyrieane for her help in beta reading this story, and fatuorum for giving me the idea to write a mirror to this story."John," Rodney gasped against John's neck, the warm puff of air and moist tongue driving him closer to the edge. His hips thrust up, his cock meeting the soft flesh of Rodney's hot stomach. He needed the contact; Rodney's idea of foreplay was driving him insane.
"Please..." John begged when Rodney used his hands to push his hips back down and sat up, resting his weight briefly on John's joined thighs. Rodney's hands stayed busy, pinching his nipples, just the way that John loved, and lightly running the tips of his fingers over his chest. Hyperaware of every movement, his dick jumped from the sensations. John clutched the sweat-rumpled sheets in his damp hands.
Rodney insinuated one leg between John's thighs, parting them further as he lowered his head, and sucked on John's nipples. Lost in ecstasy, John didn't notice the absence of one of Rodney's hands on his hips, until he felt a nudge against his perineum, when one of Rodney's fingers sank into his body.
John's reaction was immediate. He let go of the sheets, used one hand to pull Rodney's sweaty arm, and the other grabbed the wrist between his legs. "No," his voice broke, "Rodney." Suddenly, afraid that Rodney wouldn't stop, except he could feel that Rodney had stilled.
"John..." Rodney didn't remove his finger when he looked up, "I'm just using my finger...you never said anything against this." John couldn't explain.
Erection mostly gone, John fought against the urge to struggle free from the suffocating weight holding him down. "I'm saying it now." His voice was edgy with barely suppressed panic; he could feel a headache coming on.
Rodney sighed and rested his forehead against John's chest. "John," he sounded sexually frustrated, "I won't hurt you, I swear." The finger moved in a little further as if to prove a point.
"I'm going to hit you if you don't let me up now."
Rodney pulled away, his wrist pulled free from John's feeble grip and he sat up on the edge of the bed. John scooted up on the bed and pulled the sheet over his lap, until he could get his body under control again. Part of him felt out of control and scared, the other part was furious at Rodney. He told Rodney months ago what his limits were, why did he keep pushing?
They didn't speak. Rodney sat on the edge of the bed, sweating slightly, breathing heavily, and erection still heavy. Rodney didn't say anything as he reached down and sorted through the clothing haphazardly thrown onto the floor. He found his shirt and pulled it over his head, boxers went on next, and then pants. The whole time dressing Rodney refused to look at him, and now that the panic was gone, John felt hollow. He cursed the men in his memories, and his own cowardice. Rodney threw him one last, hurt look before he left John's room.
The next day at breakfast, they didn't speak to each other, and John wanted to yell at him that last night's disaster was Rodney's fault, but he only had to remember all the times Rodney gave himself so selflessly to John. Rodney had no way of knowing why John couldn't do the same back.
At 1045, Lorne showed up carrying a large package. He dropped it on his desk. "What's this?" John didn't wait for an answer before he took his knife and cut the tie around the box, and then the tape holding the two top flaps together.
"Postcards, sir. Remember Weir wanted to set up a informal post office? Apparently post cards weigh less than letters. Anyway, she gave these to me to give to you to set up in the cafeteria."
"How thoughtful," He said trying to figure out how they were going to show off what must be over one hundred cards stuffed in a box. Did they even have wire racks? "I'll sort through these." And because he wasn't up for company, he added, "Alone."
"Yes sir," Lorne saluted and left his office. John sat back down in his chair and stared at the box, feeling way off his game today. He just hoped nothing happened that required his full attention. With a reluctant sigh, he stood back up and began to remove the cards from the box. They came in a variety of pictures. Cats, Dogs, prairies, "Yellowstone National Park", a few windmills, and then he saw a picture that made his mouth go dry, "White Sand's National Park."
His mind flashed back to the last time he ever visited the park. John, his father, aunt, uncle, his cousin Richard had stopped there on their way to the Grand Canyon, John never made it that far. Richard and him spent the day sliding down sand dunes, horse playing, and exploring. On the way back their campsite, walking along the road, it happened.
A van pulling a silver travel trailer stopped next to them and a smiling man rolled down the window and asked for directions to the nearest campsite. John stepped closer so he wouldn't have to yell the directions and before he realized his danger the van's sliding door opened and another man grabbed him and yanked him inside.
Richard only two years younger than him did the most sensible thing and ran away from the road screaming for help. He remembered kicking and screaming as the van's door slid close, and the man behind him yelled at the driver to get going. The next three weeks that followed he did his best to forget ever happened. Only he hadn't, and he was about to lose Rodney because of it.
Terrified, John grabbed his pen and hastily scribbled down the secret he hadn't ever told anyone else. He left the rest of the cards on his desk and walked to the science lab, when he arrived it was mercifully empty. John stood in front of Rodney's laptop for ten minutes before he said fuck it, and placed the post card right where it couldn't be missed. He left the lab before he could change his mind. He just wished he could leave the past behind that easily.