"Hurt" by Ismene, dark side challenge
Jul. 17th, 2006 08:04 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
ismenetruth.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
sga_flashficAuthor: Ismene
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: strong R or light NC-17
Challenge: Dark Side
Warnings: borderline non-con. dark (duh. have you seen the challenge?)
Maybe it’s time we take this interrogation to the next level.
Rodney deliberately doesn’t think about those words, about Sheppard’s acquiescence to them. Doesn’t think about the way John hadn’t looked at him for the rest of the briefing, the fact that John hasn’t met his eyes since he handed over the access code in the control room.
Rodney doesn’t think about John’s hands - hands that have caressed him and held him and worshipped him, and he certainly doesn’t think about those hands sending rivers of electricity through a human body – so vulnerable, people, messy like everything science isn’t.
Rodney doesn’t think about it, but sometimes he dreams it.
And when he wakes up with nightmare images of Sheppard’s hand holding a Genii knife chasing across his consciousness, it’s John’s body that presses against him, John’s lips that try to tease away his trembling.
Rodney forgets, sometimes, that John isn’t just a man who purrs when Rodney plays with his ridiculous hair; Sheppard is also a military commander whose morals are decidedly subjective. Rodney forgets that Sheppard killed almost sixty Genii in one brutal move, and a dozen more face-to-face. Rodney forgets that Sheppard would do anything to protect his people…anything.
But when Rodney dreams, he remembers.
The dreams are pretty standard fare, actually – knives and tasers and blood and screams, the occasional flash of Teyla or Zelenka or Carson or Elizabeth. Once it was Laura, looking on in horror as a shapeless form drew flowers of blood on his arm. Another time it was Ford, sightless black eye blank as Rodney sobbed.
Standard fare, really, except for the part where he isn’t tied. There’s never a single restraint on him, but he doesn’t fight the arms that hold him still.
John’s arms.
John holds his hands, firmly but tenderly, and murmurs gentle things in his ear as the knife paints abstract art onto his skin, as the needles slip beneath the surface to send waves of agony crashing over him again and again.
Sometimes it’s not even that; sometimes it’s Sheppard holding the knife, pressing the controls on the taser, drowning Rodney in an incomprehensible hell. And Rodney can’t pull away from those hands, even though no one is keeping him in place. He stands there and begs and screams and shatters into a thousand glass-shard pieces, all the while knowing he can stop it if he just steps away from John.
He never does.
During the day when he and Sheppard snark and smirk and do their jobs, he doesn’t think about it. Rodney barely even remembers that in the dark he’ll feel those absurdly graceful hands destroy him.
But then he dreams, and remembers.
It’s been three weeks since this started, and Sheppard’s eyes are dark as he wakes Rodney. Rodney can see in John’s eyes that he wants to ask, and can’t, so Rodney rolls over and pushes.
He can’t bear to see those hands right now.
He ties John’s hands together and shoves him face-forward into the mattress. John shudders beneath him but doesn’t protest, not when Rodney tightens the socks he’s using for impromptu handcuffs until John’s fingers must be going numb, and not when he pushes into John’s vulnerable form with hastily-applied lube and no preparation at all. Still sore from earlier in the night, John hisses but doesn’t flinch away.
It’s time to take this relationship to the next level, some small, frightening part of Rodney snarls, and he drives into John to quiet it.
John’s panting, harsh and pained, and Rodney feels a thrill of dark arousal at that. He isn’t helpless under those hands, isn’t a shaking crying begging weak creature John can possess. He can hurt John, too.
It’s that thought that makes him come, with a surge of sheer heat.
After, he unties John’s hands and stares blankly at the red, angry skin around the wrists, at the streaks of pinkish come on John’s thighs that run across what will be livid bruises tomorrow, at John’s soft cock and bloodshot hurt eyes. Rodney stares until John reaches forward and kisses him, slowly, asking for and offering absolution in turn.
Rodney wonders when John will realize that there’s none to be had. This can’t go away, but John will surrender to him in the blind, naïve assumption that it can, and they’ll be trapped in this cycle for eternity, tides pulling and pushing and crashing and breaking…
When they sleep, John pressed as tightly to him as ever, Rodney doesn’t dream.
But he remembers.
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(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-18 01:53 am (UTC)Fantastic job. Really nailed the 'dark' in 'darkside'. *shivers*
(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-18 02:51 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-18 03:21 am (UTC)Nice -- liked Rodney's inability to step away from Sheppard, his lack of control.
Rodney stares until John reaches forward and kisses him, slowly, asking for and offering absolution in turn.
Oh, John.
This can't go away, but John will surrender to him in the blind, naive assumption that it can, and they'll be trapped in this cycle for eternity, tides pulling and pushing and crashing and breaking...
Ouch. Chilling but lovely.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-18 03:41 am (UTC)really nice.
i use the term "nice" loosely.
It’s time to take this relationship to the next level, some small, frightening part of Rodney snarls, and he drives into John to quiet it.
ooh, ouch! :D
(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-18 03:59 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-18 06:15 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-18 09:02 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-07-19 02:51 pm (UTC)Very well written. Thanks.
Jo
(no subject)
Date: 2007-04-14 02:19 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-03-01 04:16 am (UTC)