14 (12) Valentines 3: The Spaces Inside
Title: The Spaces Inside
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: BSDM
Summary: John didn't know when he had started to look forward to their encounters. He only knew that somehow, they had become the highlights of his week.
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard (AU)
The link I'm asking you to click today: 14 Valentines: Body Image
My mother's always been obsessed with her figure, while I eat what and when I like. Naturally, this leads to differences in opinion - including the good old 'you should eat less if you want to attract a man'. Sure, Mom. Thin equals happy.
Notes: With xanthelj's kind permission, I borrowed her "Coming Home" and "General and Dr. Sheppard" universe, if not her characters. For those of you who don't know, it's a bisexual BDSM universe where the distinction between top and sub is made as naturally as that between male and female.
Beta-read by Denis, broet-chan, and mckays_girl. Thank you!
~~~
Cover by smuffster
The Spaces Inside
John had made it a habit to pick up stray subs. It wasn't to feed them or get them off the street, or anything like that. They just came with no strings attached, and he liked the resigned submission he got for a few dollars. He didn't have to invest any part of himself to make them open up, and they didn't expect him to. Sociopath, one of his subs had called him, back when he'd still been trying that relationship thing; but he wasn't, not really. He knew there was a difference between 'right' and 'wrong', and mostly, he tried to stay on the 'right' side of things. John just found that a submissive's trust in their top came with a responsibility he wasn't prepared to carry; the disappointment when it didn't work out - again - was something he wasn't really seeking.
Yes, he might be a little messed up, but he didn't care. In his opinion, there was nothing wrong with seeking casual sex, as long as no one got hurt.
When he spotted the slumped figure behind a dumpster on 49th Street, his first impulse was to drive by. See nothing, hear nothing, sure as hell pick nothing up that can't move on its own. He had no idea what made him flip his turn signal on and pull up, what drove him to get out of his car and crouch down next to the fallen man.
It was a sub, he could tell from the faint marks around the wrists and neck, and not a bad-looking one. Broad shoulders, longish, lightly curled blond hair, big hands with long fingers that promised strength, surely making his surrender that much sweeter. His face was asymmetrical, but not without charisma, and before he knew it, John was paying a sub who'd been lurking nearby to help him get the guy into his car.
"What're you gonna do with him?" the sub asked, hovering nervously.
"None of your business," John answered tersely, but then a thought occurred to him. "Do you know his name?" Street subs never had any ID on them - those were too easily stolen.
"Rodney."
John nodded, got into his car, and drove home, all the while wondering what the hell he was doing. Every now and then he'd look into the rear-view mirror at the unconscious man on his backseat. 'Rodney' was wearing plain, but clean clothes, indicating that he didn't actually live on the street, but people didn't just collapse behind dumpsters without any reason. He sighed, hoping he wasn't making a mistake, and tried to concentrate on his driving, only to have his gaze drift back to the rear-view mirror a few moments later. John had made it a habit to pick up stray subs, yeah, but he usually chose ones that were actually in the proper condition to play. So really, what the hell was he doing?
John called Carson from his cell phone, and the good doctor was already there when he arrived in front of his house. Together, they carried the sub to the guest room; Carson all the while complaining about people who couldn't just drive to the bloody hospital like everyone else. His examination was quick and professional, and ended with him drawing some blood.
"Far as I can tell, he's just malnourished. Proper food and some rest, and he'll be right as rain," Carson explained
"Then what's that for?" John nodded at the blood sample as Carson stowed it away.
"Oh, we can never be too cautious, now, can we?" Carson smiled and patted his arm. "Now, how about some coffee?"
John followed the doctor into the kitchen, knowing that this was the part where he'd have to answer some questions. He busied himself with the coffee-maker, sighing when he turned around to find Carson patiently looking at him.
"All right, ask."
"There's not much to ask, really. I am curious why you picked him up, I'll admit that."
John shrugged. "Out of the goodness of my heart?"
It earned him a sad smile. "I know you've got a good heart, John. I only wonder sometimes if you know that, too."
John pressed his lips together and turned back to the coffee-maker, watching the dark liquid drop into the transparent pot. He'd prepared two cups, and all too soon the machine gave the shrill little beep that meant it was done.
Carson was still watching him when John handed him his cup. "Why did you bring that man here?" he asked softly.
"Maybe because if I hadn't, he'd still be lying out there." John hated to analyse his own feelings, and he wasn't all that convinced that there were any feelings to be analysed right now. "It was a spur of the moment thing, really. I don't know where it came from."
Carson looked at him for a moment, then he smiled and nodded.
"All right, lad. Just be careful you don't get robbed or anything."
They chatted a little about safer topics before Carson left, promising he'd send his bill within the next few days. John knew he wouldn't, though - the doctor had a soft spot for strays, and 'saving' one had probably raised John a level or two in his estimation.
Waiting for the sub to wake, John distracted himself with preparing some food and reading the list of dos and don'ts he'd found in one of the man's pockets. There weren't all that many don'ts, actually, but a short list of allergies and medical conditions on the back that explained why a few, rather harmless things were a non-negotiable no.
After a while, that, too, became boring, and John was thrumming his fingers on the side table, debating whether to get himself a book, when the figure on the bed finally stirred. John leaned forward, just in time to meet the confused gaze of the bluest eyes he'd ever seen. His heart started pounding, and he swallowed, not knowing what to make of that. The sub - Rodney - slowly focussed on his surroundings, tensing when he took in the unfamiliar room, and relaxing again when he realised he was in no shape to get away from whatever was awaiting him. John felt a pang of… something… when the sub's gaze finally came to rest on him. The look in Rodney's eyes was lost and resigned, like 'hope' was a word he'd erased from his vocabulary long ago. That look, along with his pale skin, made him look like a ghost.
"Doctor says you should eat something," John said, nodding at the plate on the side table to distract himself from those hollow eyes.
Rodney blinked at him, then at the food, and then back at him. John thought Rodney might be asking for his name when the man opened his mouth, but the sub surprised him.
"I can't pay you." His voice was wary and held a distinct accent John couldn't quite place. Canadian, maybe.
"Yes, you can," John contradicted softly, yet firmly, and rose from his seat. This was a stray sub, he reminded himself; the man would get what John meant.
Rodney gazed up at him with unbearably blue eyes, and then shuffled off the bed to kneel in front of him, fingers sure as they opened the button of John’s jeans, pulled down the zipper, and peeled both the pants and boxers away from John's groin.
John watched, fascinated, as Rodney started to lick and nibble him to full hardness, stopping only briefly to roll on a condom after getting John's consent. He was good, alternating soft strokes of his tongue with hard suction and the barest scrape of his teeth as he went down on John, blowing him like it was the only thing on his mind. And maybe it was. Some subs were like that. John let himself drift on the sensations until he felt he was close. Then he grabbed Rodney's head and held it steady as he pushed in, grunting as the head of his cock bumped against the back of the sub's throat. A few deep, hard thrusts, and John was coming into his condom, feeling the sub's throat muscles work as he swallowed around him to make it even better. Not bad. John allowed his fingers to card through the sub's soft, dark blond hair to let him know he'd done well, and then he took a step back and pulled off the condom.
"Eat," he told Rodney as he tucked himself away and straightened his clothes. Rodney nodded, reaching for the plate and wolfing down the food at a startling rate that was almost funny. John watched him, a little bemused. Rodney's obvious delight in the simple dish John had provided for him was strangely satisfying. Maybe it was some new, unexplored part of his sexuality; maybe he liked having subs surrender to him, seeing them helpless, even out of the bedroom. The explanation seemed as good as any.
Less than five minutes later the plate was empty. "Want some more?" John asked.
"Yes, please." Belatedly, Rodney seemed to remember, "uh, I've got allergies-"
"I know," John interrupted, holding up the list. "Don't worry, I'm not going to kill you with nuts or a slice of orange. Eat up and then I'll drive you wherever you want to go."
Rodney nodded again, taking his word at face value. It was strange, John thought as he watched the sub eat. He didn't even know the man, but this weird little domestic scene? It felt almost nice.
He wondered why.
~~~
Two days after driving Rodney to a gas station that presumably was close to the sub's home, John was back on 49th, slowing down when he spotted a familiar figure. As he stopped the car, Rodney pushed away from the wall he'd been leaning against, and slowly walked to the open window on the passenger side.
"Jump in," John said.
Rodney looked at him for a long moment, not saying a word. Then he opened the door and climbed into the seat. "I'll assume we won't have to negotiate," he said, his gaze fixed on the dashboard, "since you've already read my list."
"I'm not going to do anything you're not comfortable with," John promised. "You just have to tell me your safe word."
"Boston."
John raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment - that wasn't even close to being the weirdest safe word he'd heard. "All right."
Back at the house, he took his time undressing Rodney. He'd always liked to peel his subs out of their clothes, revealing skin that was his to mark. Rodney's was pale, almost translucent, and John stroked a hand over the sub's soft belly before he leaned in to suck at a little patch of skin right next to Rodney's belly button.
"Please." Rodney's breath hitched a little, and John smiled. "No marks that aren't gone by tomorrow, or I'll have to ask for more money."
"Sounds fair," John replied, sucking, licking and biting until there were several stark red marks standing out against the whiteness of Rodney's chest and belly.
Money had never been a problem. John's father had been a war veteran, a bona fide hero, and he'd made sure that whatever he did, it was for the proper payment. His mother, a meek and quiet sub, had always been good with numbers, investing what had been a nice financial bolster and turning it into a fortune. Whatever John wanted, he could afford to buy it.
He stopped sucking on another patch of Rodney's enticingly pale skin and leaned back to admire his handy-work. There was no pattern to the marks he'd made; they were simply random spots scattered across Rodney's body, evidence that it had been John's to caress, to hold, to claim. He nibbled his way down the fine trail of hair that led from Rodney's belly button down to the hem of his jeans, and continued the slow undressing he'd started. Rodney was hard by the time John had him fully naked, his cock long and thick, surrounded by coarse, golden curls. He wasn't circumcised, and John took his time to play, enjoying the slide of soft skin over hardened flesh, watching the blunt head appear and disappear behind the wrinkled foreskin.
"Don't come," he ordered, and proceeded to try his best to suck the sub's brains out through his dick. It earned him the most delightful little pants and shudders, breathy moans and whispered curses, and finally pleas and constant trembling. Small drops of pre-come were forming on the tip of Rodney's cock, and John licked them away. Carson had said the sub was as healthy as someone with his lifestyle could be, giving John the opportunity to tease a little further with his tongue. The sub didn't come, and against his will, John was impressed.
"Not bad," he murmured, leading the other man over to his bed, making him kneel. "Let's see if that ass is as nice as it looks like."
It was. Pale, full globes that reddened when John spanked them lightly. He smirked at the way the flesh wobbled slightly under his hand. Picking up the tube of lubricant from its place on the night stand, he squirted a good amount on his fingers. John didn't want to overdo it. He hadn't played in over a week, and he knew he tended to get a little rough when the need overcame him - better not to drag things out this time.
He shouldn't have chosen Rodney in the first place, he knew that. The sub had been so exhausted he'd collapsed, and two days was nowhere near enough time for him to regain his strength, but for some reason, John had been unable to forget Rodney's wide blue eyes and the hopelessness that had dulled them. He didn't have a saviour-complex or anything like that, but for the last two days, knowing Rodney was back on the street, John had felt restless. It made no sense at all, so John blamed it on a lingering physical attraction. That one was a first for him as well, but it wasn't half as scary as the idea that there might be another reason for this weird need to have Rodney right where he could see him.
And see him he did, kneeling on the bed before him, pale and naked and shivering. John could feel his breath coming faster; this man wasn't his usual type, but his surrender was sweeter than anything had been for John in a long time. He took great care to prepare the sub properly, even though it wasn't necessary - Rodney was as relaxed as a person could get, and John could have probably slipped inside after only a minute. Still, he didn't want to hurt the sub, not yet, and it was fun, testing how worked up John could get the man simply by finger-fucking him. Pretty worked up, it turned out, and with four fingers up Rodney’s ass, John actually considered going the whole way. Rodney could take it, he was sure of it, watching the sub's hole clench and unclench around his fingers, his thumb pressed into the crease between Rodney's cheeks. Rodney was amazingly responsive, shuddering with every brush of John's fingers over his prostate, and it would be so simple to make him break.
Take it easy, John reminded himself, pulling away to roll a condom over his dick, and slick himself up. Rodney was panting, head resting on his crossed forearms, ass high in the air. His face was red and his erection looked painful, but he still held on, deep inside his own headspace, from the looks of it, his blue eyes glazed and wide, not really focussing on his surroundings.
"Hang on," John instructed him, lining his cock up against Rodney’s hole, pushing, sinking inside the tight, slick channel with one long, slow thrust. He had to stop for a moment, had to ignore nerve endings that were screaming soft, hot, yes! and catch his breath. Around him, Rodney was twitching before he relaxed, opening up and giving in, his body becoming an instrument for John's pleasure as he submitted completely.
John pulled back until only the head of his cock was still inside Rodney, and then he pushed back in. There was no resistance at all, causing him to shudder, his hands fluttering over Rodney's flanks, belly, and chest, helplessly petting him. Rodney looked up at him, eyes drugged-out and glassy, and John didn't think he'd ever seen anyone so far gone before.
"Please," Rodney whispered.
With a choked groan, John started to thrust, slowly at first, then harder, grabbing Rodney's sweat-slick hips for better leverage as he let himself go. Rodney's soft moans were a perfect counterpoint to his pounding, and he tried to make sure he hit the sub's prostate on every other stroke, wanting to make this good for both of them. Leaning forward, he licked a stripe along Rodney's spine, right between his shoulder blades, biting down and sucking when he reached the juncture of shoulder and neck, leaving yet another mark.
John's orgasm took him by surprise, making his hips stutter and his breath catch as he emptied himself into the condom. For a moment, the world faded away, and when it came back, he was utterly spent, Rodney still kneeling in front of him, still hard and waiting. John flipped him around, closed his fist around Rodney's straining erection, and started to pump. "You can come now."
Rodney did so with a strangled moan, tensing up as his fluid splashed across his stomach, white liquid almost invisible against his pale skin. The sub sagged, closing his eyes, and John allowed himself to drop on the bed beside the other man. Slowly, they caught their breath, lying next to each other on the soft mattress. John reached out to stroke Rodney's arm, letting him be grounded by his touch, bringing him back into himself. In that moment still caught inside his own topspace, John felt an overwhelming tenderness towards the sub who had surrendered so sweetly, so entirely to his need. There was a strange urge to protect Rodney from the world, to make sure nothing ever happened to him. It was a little frightening, but at the same time, it felt natural, inevitable.
As his brain sluggishly kicked into gear, John shook himself, wondering what the hell he thought he was doing. He didn't get mushy after sex, and he certainly didn't form instant connections to strangers he was paying for their services. Yet he'd just come so hard he'd thought he might pass out. It made him wonder what it would be like to take his time with Rodney, to play with the sub's body until they were both shaking with lust. He usually didn't sleep with the same sub more than once, but…
"We definitely have to do this again."
Rodney opened his eyes to look at the ceiling, blinking as he visibly dragged himself the rest of the way back to reality. He was silent for a moment, and then he nodded.
"Okay."
~~~
It became something of a routine. Every two or three days, John would pick Rodney up and drive them back to his house, where they'd play - with the soft flogger John had bought thinking of the sub's pale back, with the thick leather straps he loved to wind around those sturdy wrists, with the ice dildo John kept in the freezer, buying the mould after realising just how sensitive Rodney was to even the slightest change in temperature.
The sub let it happen, let himself be used in whatever way John desired, and it was entirely possible that John loved him just a little bit for that. He got the submission he wanted, but it wasn't about trust, just about the money that passed from one man to the other at the end of each session. It was the perfect relationship, more honest than anything John had ever had before. Rodney never asked for anything. He didn't want little gifts to be sure of John's affection, he was always there when John needed him. In return, John paid more than the sub asked for; it was his reward for the way two or three times a week, Rodney was completely his.
John didn't know when he had started to look forward to their encounters. He only knew that somehow, they had become the highlights of his week.
There was one time John went too far, though. Rodney hadn't been all that happy with the idea of knife play in the first place, and when John started after a pretty intense round of seeing how far he could push Rodney into subspace, all it took was the slightest scratch of the blade across his forearm for Rodney to break down.
"Boston, Boston, Boston, Boston…" he whimpered, and John flung the knife aside to take the trembling sub into his arms, rocking him as he stroked soothingly up and down his back.
"Shhh, it's okay," he whispered softly, listening to Rodney's hiccupping breaths. "It's okay, I've got you, shhh, it's okay…"
"No!" Half-heartedly, Rodney tried to pull away, but John didn't let him.
"Not going to hurt you. Shhh, relax, no one's going to hurt you, I promise, calm down, it's okay." He kept mumbling promises of comfort and safety, and slowly, he could feel the tension drain from Rodney's body, until the sub melted against him, his harsh sobbing breaths calming to deep, regular breathing. "Come on, let's get you settled down."
Rodney nodded against John's collarbone and followed him like a child, not protesting as John led him to his bed and made him curl up underneath the blanket. John sat down beside him, running his hand through the sub's hair, watching Rodney blink slowly as his eyelids started to droop.
"I should go."
There was no way John was letting Rodney out on the street in his current state. What he said, though, was simply "I think you should stay," in a voice that allowed no argument. Rodney sighed, but nodded, and they were silent for a while.
"Why Boston?" John finally asked.
"I got my first PhD at Northeastern," Rodney told him quietly. "Youngest student ever. I was so smart; I thought I could change the world."
John didn't reply; he just sat on the edge of the bed for a while, carding his fingers through the soft strands of Rodney's hair, wondering who had broken this man, and why. "What happened?" he asked eventually, keeping his tone soft.
Rodney sighed again, and John hated the defeated sound of it.
"Too smart. I knew everything about almost everything, and I had the matching attitude." Rodney chuckled at the memory of his younger self. "It was… physics, computers, engineering, I just needed to see something and it made perfect sense. Same with numbers. I was a genius, and I knew it."
He fell silent, smiling slightly, and John waited for him to continue. Rodney's smile faded, turning into something bitter as he took a deep breath.
"One of my professors didn't like my attitude. She made sure I knew that." There was a short pause. "I made her the laughing stock of the scientific community by disproving her theories, one by one."
John could see where this was going.
"So she took revenge on you."
"She killed herself," Rodney whispered, staring at the wall like he could see the past. "She couldn't take it, and she killed herself. I… my fault, it was my fault, I…"
"Shhh." John pressed a small kiss on Rodney's temple, trying to soothe the shaking man. "You were young, you didn't know."
"She had a husband," Rodney continued, like he hadn't heard John, "and he… he made sure I could never hurt someone again, he made sure I…" He started to cry, curling in on himself.
John stayed with him, rocking him, whispering soft reassurances until the other man fell asleep. For a long while after, he just sat there, looking at Rodney's tear-streaked face, wishing there was a way to protect him from things long past.
~~~
John woke at the first streaks of dawn, staring at the grey ceiling while he listened to Rodney's quiet breathing.
He'd thought the protectiveness he'd felt had been a side effect of his own topspace, or later brought on by Rodney's tears, but it was still there, and it was… unsettling. Unsettling, because it meant that without really noticing, John had been gradually falling for the man who was sleeping next to him. He wanted to claim Rodney as his own, wanted to keep him safe. Most importantly, he wanted to know what Rodney looked like when he was happy. He didn't think he was in any way suited to make that happen.
Rodney was damaged, but so was John; he knew that. There had never been any abuse in his past, nobody who'd tried to break him, but neither had there been love. He wasn't sure he could feel that particular emotion, even if he wanted to. Rodney deserved better than someone who kept him as some kind of glorified pet, deserved better than being used as a tool for sexual gratification, which was what John was doing. He had been doing it right from the start and felt a little sick when he thought about how he'd made Rodney suck him off for a little food. If they kept this up, Rodney would only be broken further, and that was the last thing John wanted.
Turning his head, John looked at Rodney, a dark shape in the barely-lit room. There was the familiar curve of his neck, the well-explored set of his shoulders, the broad expanse of his pale back where he wasn't covered by the blanket - there wasn't one inch of skin on that body that John didn't know, that he hadn't paid for. His stomach clenched when he realised he had to give this up if he didn't want to hurt Rodney.
They couldn't go on like this. He'd have to let go.
~~~
For the next three weeks, John stayed away from 49th Street and its temptations.
He tried not to think about Rodney. His father would laugh if he could see him, how he basically reshaped the wide gardens around his house for lack of a real occupation to lose himself in. And it wasn't like the physical work even helped; instead, it gave him more than enough time to remember the sub while his hands were busy felling one tree and planting another. He couldn't stop thinking about the way Rodney's blue eyes glazed over when he went into subspace, the way his body was so deliciously responsive, the way it felt to have him close, in John's bed, when they were coming down together. So he'd abandoned his forgetting-through-working project and gone out to pick up other submissives, only they didn't work for him anymore. He'd just compare them to the one he was trying not to think about. It was driving him crazy.
In a desperate attempt at distracting himself, John went to see a movie. Just his luck the promising 'Dead or Alive' was actually a chick-flick about a soldier and his scientist husband who fought for their love in the midst of war, only for both to die when the scientist was run over by a car. John winced when around him, women started to sniffle over the romantic tragedy that was the lifebond. His parents hadn't been lifebonded, a lot of people never were. Unable to get a certain sub out of his head, John started to wonder if the reason wasn't the lifebond's stupid danger, as his father had called it, but rather a simple lack of emotion. He wondered, if his parents had loved each other, would his life have been different?
But his life already was different, wasn't it? He was infatuated, obviously unable to fight whatever it was that kept pulling him to Rodney, and for the first time, he started to think about simply giving in. To pick Rodney up, launch into a halted speech about stability and the advantages of having a safe top, and see if they could make it work. They hadn't talked all that much, granted, but that could be changed. John could change, and if they were compatible in bed, why not outside as well?
What it all came down to was that he needed to see Rodney. He needed the sub to calm him down, to ground him. He'd been feeling off-balance for three weeks now, and this couldn't go on.
He needed to go back.
Returning to 49th, he drove up and down the street twice, but Rodney wasn't there. Finally, John spotted the sub who had helped him get Rodney into his car an eternity ago, and stopped next to him.
"Where's Rodney?"
"He's got a job," the man answered curtly.
John cursed inwardly. He hadn't deluded himself into thinking he was the only one for Rodney, of course, but somehow, he'd just expected Rodney to be there, waiting for him. He'd always been there before when John had come to pick him up, no matter if only a day had passed and his marks hadn't even begun to fade, or if it had been the better part of a week since their last encounter. Rodney had been there, and John had come to count on that. Then again, he didn't even truly know if Rodney was actually willing to go back with him. Maybe he'd found another top who was more reliable than John. Damn it.
"When's he going to be back?"
"Dunno." The sub shrugged in a vaguely insulting way, and John had to take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. He didn't take disrespect very well, not even from a sub who had nothing to do with him.
"All right, tell him to wait for me when he gets back."
"Yeah, well, I guess he got tired of waiting for you when his money ran out," the sub spat with an accusing glare. "If you were going to dump him, you could have just told him so!"
Something inside John went cold. That couldn't mean what he thought it meant, it was… he couldn't have been the only one. It was impossible; it was insane, for Rodney to be his own kind of faithful to a man who had never given him the slightest reason to believe their relationship was based on anything other than business. Waiting for John to turn up, every day, until the simple lack of money had meant he couldn't wait any longer.
"Where is he?" John asked, feeling strangely numb.
"I don't see how that's any of your-"
"I just want to get him home, so don't give me that shit!"
The sub started at John's outburst, then he crossed his arms and pouted. "Broken Plate. One of those guys came by yesterday and- hey!"
John ignored the angry curses behind him as he sped away, blood rushing in his ears. The Broken Plate was an infamous club for tops who liked to play the old-fashioned games - games that left permanent marks, sometimes worse. They paid well, but they weren't safe; they broke people. The thought of Rodney's body trembling under their hands made John drive faster.
He had been stupid. In his need to keep Rodney safe, John had driven him to one of the worst places in town. And his sub had been stupid for going there in the first place. What the hell had he been thinking, selling himself to them? If he'd needed money so badly, there were a dozen other places that would take him in and not fuck with his mind.
The club was members only, but John didn't care about that as he pounded on the sturdy black door. After a minute, it was opened by a small Asian guy who glared at him.
"What?"
"You've got something that belongs to me," John told him, trying to keep a rein on his worry and fury. Thankfully, the Asian guy didn't even try to pretend he didn't know what John was talking about.
"Can you prove it?"
"I can break your neck," John offered hotly, and at that moment, he meant it. Apparently, the Asian guy realised that too, because he opened the door and stepped aside.
"He wasn't wearing a collar," he said grumpily as John entered the club. "This way."
John followed him up a narrow flight of stairs and down an equally narrow corridor. The man opened another door and John cursed at the sight that greeted him, cursed his own stupidity again even as he strode into the room. He had waited too long.
In the middle of the small, dark room, Rodney was hanging limp in a pair of chains, his bruised, naked body swaying gently two inches above the ground. His torso and upper thighs were covered with shallow cuts that were still seeping blood. He didn't even twitch when John stepped close and carefully removed the clamps from his nipples.
"Release him," John ordered, surprised as his voice came out in a low growl, surprised at the fierce surge of protectiveness he felt when the chains gave and Rodney fell into his arms. Carefully, he lowered the sub to the ground and shrugged out of his coat to cover the other man's nakedness. Then he patted Rodney's cheek, lightly, but the sub didn't even stir.
"Rodney, come on, wake up."
There was no reaction to his coaxing, and he felt a bubble of panic rise in his throat. There were no serious wounds, most of the cuts wouldn't even scar, but at that moment, he realised that he might be able to feel love after all. Love was the only explanation for the way his heart was trying to pound its way out of his chest, for the way his arms tightened protectively around his sub without his conscious decision. He longed to feel the bones of those who did this break under his hands
"What the hell did you do to him?" he snapped.
"Nothing much." The Asian guy shrugged uncomfortably - John would be well within his rights to seek retribution for others touching his sub without permission, and he wanted to, oh, how he wanted to, but getting Rodney out of there was more important. "He passed out during the knife play, that's all. Look, he wasn't collared, and he said he didn't have a top… how the hell were we supposed to know-"
"Can it." John gathered Rodney in his arms and walked towards the door, thinking the sub's sturdy body really shouldn't be that light, but maybe it was just the adrenaline that made it seem easy to carry the unconscious sub down the stairs and to his car.
"We've got to stop meeting like this," John murmured as he carefully placed Rodney on the backseat and tucked his coat around him. "I can't always be there to rescue you."
He caressed the sub's pale face, wishing those blue eyes would open and look at him. Then he called Carson, and drove home.
~~~
"Just what is it with you and that aversion against hospitals?" Carson scolded John as soon as he saw Rodney's battered figure.
John had been driving slowly for fear that any sharp braking might throw Rodney from the backseat and hurt him further. Subsequently, Carson had been forced to wait for them and wasn't exactly in the best mood.
"I'm not letting him out of my sight again," John replied grimly. Together they carried the sub inside. Déjà vu - this time, though, John steered them towards his own bedroom, instead of the guest room.
"Aye? And what's his opinion on that?" Carson challenged, clucking his tongue as he started to disinfect the numerous shallow cuts that were strewn across Rodney's body. "Did you even ask him if he wanted to stay?"
John thought about what that stray had told him, about how Rodney had been waiting for him. "He wants to stay."
"If you say so." Carson didn't prod him any further, taking care of Rodney in a sure, efficient way. It was like before, only that this time John was sure he'd actually get that bill Carson kept threatening him with.
He didn't mind. It wasn't like he couldn't pay up.
So, here they were, right back where they'd started, and John didn't have a clue what to do now. Sitting next to Rodney, who was lying unconscious in his bed, he thought he could safely say he'd never been this terrified. What if he messed this up? Worse, what if he messed Rodney up? What if he did the wrong thing at the wrong moment and Rodney broke completely, leaving John alone with his regrets and his self-hatred for the rest of his life?
Thankfully, his sub chose that moment to stir, distracting John from his pathetic insecurities. Rodney's eyelids fluttered, and then opened, revealing those startling blue eyes that had become part of John's addiction. He could tell the exact moment Rodney realised where he was, heart fluttering in his chest as the sub gave a soft sigh.
"I still can't pay you."
"Yes, you can," John corrected him, smiling a little, then frowning as Rodney struggled to sit up, wincing when the movement pulled at his cuts. John could have kicked himself when he realised what the sub was trying to do.
"That's not what I meant," he said shortly, pushing the man back down. "I don't want you to suck me off. At least not now," he added at Rodney's confused gaze.
"I, uh, I don't think I'm up for more right now," the sub said hesitantly, and it was John's turn to wince. He knew his behaviour hadn't exactly instilled confidence in the other man, but this was ridiculous.
"Rodney… no, wait. Look, let's start this again, okay? Yes, you can pay me, by staying out of that kind of shit. And to make sure you do, I'm not letting you out there again," John told him, not sure if that was a threat, or a promise. Rodney frowned, and John babbled on. "I can pay you, if you want, though I'd prefer not to. I mean, I will if that's what it takes to keep you here, but I was thinking more along the lines of, well, a relationship. If you want to. I mean, obviously, we hardly know each other, but-"
"Okay." Rodney's lips had formed into a small, crooked smile, and John felt himself relax. He reached out to run his thumb across Rodney's cheek, encountering soft skin and stubble.
"Okay." He smiled, and then grinned at Rodney's expectant gaze. Slowly, he leaned down, sliding his hand around Rodney's ear to the back of his head to sink his fingers into the fine hair. Rodney sighed against his mouth as their lips met for the first time, chastely, hesitantly, both of them burned too many times to be anything but shy. Rodney's lips were warm and a little chapped, but soft as they kissed again, and again. John thought he could become addicted to this. It wasn't really sexual, but it felt right; having Rodney with him felt right, and he'd nearly lost it.
"Do you have any idea how worried I was?" he scolded when he pulled back. "What the hell were you doing in that place?"
"You didn't come back. I thought I did something wrong," Rodney replied softly, closing his eyes. "Wouldn't have been the first time."
"No." John's voice was hoarse, and he cleared his throat. "That was just me being an idiot."
Rodney nodded slightly, scooting over to rest his cheek on John's knee in a gesture of trust and submission. John swallowed, automatically bringing his hand up to play with his sub's hair.
"Why did you go there?" he asked again.
Rodney was quiet for a moment, absent-mindedly stroking a hand up and down John's calf.
"I thought… I couldn't do what you asked me to, and then you were gone. I, I thought, if I could learn to…"
"God, Rodney." John pulled Rodney up and into his arms, holding him close. "Never think that. I'll never ask you to do anything you're not comfortable with."
Rodney returned the embrace, but stayed silent.
"Rodney? I'd never hurt you, you know that, right? Not like that." Never like that.
His sub shook his head, and over the blood rushing in his ears, John almost didn't notice the soft words.
"I trust you."
And in that moment, John couldn't remember why he'd been dreading those words so much, because they were the sweetest he'd ever heard.
~~~
John parked the car in front of the house and just sat behind the steering wheel for a moment, staring blindly at the front door. His entire body was sweating; he was feeling nauseous, and there didn't seem to be enough air in the car.
He couldn't remember ever being that nervous.
Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the small, oblong box from the passenger seat and went into the house. Even from the foyer, he could hear Rodney furiously typing. He smiled, nervousness forgotten for the moment as he listened to that familiar sound. Then he remembered the box he was holding, and his smile vanished as the anxiety returned full force. It had been a spur of the moment idea. He'd seen the thing a week ago, passing a shop window as he'd been walking through a side street, and it had been like a revelation. A little like finding the Holy Grail. He'd entered the small shop, made the necessary arrangements, and had returned today to pick it up. Making his way to the study, he hoped he wasn't making a mistake.
Rodney was hunched over his laptop as John entered the study, scowling at the monitor.
"You're late," he complained without looking up.
"I know," John returned, pressing a quick kiss on his cheek, "I had to pick something up."
Rodney grabbed his arm when he took a step back, and pulled him back in for a proper kiss. It was fast and dirty, like they hadn't seen each other for weeks instead of just a few hours, and it left both of them a little out of breath.
"What, did you get me something?" Rodney asked, giving that crooked little half-smile of his.
"As a matter of fact, I did." John took a deep breath, and handed him the box, trying to appear casual. "Here."
His sub turned the box over in his hands, clearly puzzled.
"What's that?"
"Open it, and you'll see."
Too nervous to watch Rodney's face, John occupied himself with the figures and equations on the laptop monitor. It had taken quite a bit of persuasion on his part to get Rodney back to physics again. Once he had, though, it had quickly become obvious that Rodney was a born scientist - curious, with an insatiable thirst for knowledge, and an ego like a diva. John didn't mind that last one. On the contrary, he loved watching Rodney getting all worked up over someone else's stupidity, even if it was only in the safety of their own home. The man who'd been sharing his bed and his life for the past year didn't have all that much in common with the meek, broken sub John had first picked up all those months ago, but he'd probably never be ready to resume his work in the outside world.
Well, that was what the internet was for, wasn't it?
Rodney had opened the box and was now busy pulling out the various layers of paper that kept his gift safe from scratches. Maybe John should have gotten something with a satin inlay, but he didn't want to come over as too mushy. Even if he was, sometimes, usually in the middle of the night when Rodney slept curled up against his side, and he was feeling a happiness that was so fierce it scared him. They were both damaged, but maybe a little less together than apart. Rodney had needed to be saved, and John thought that maybe had needed to save someone to realise that he wasn't as jaded and disillusioned as he'd once thought.
"John." Rodney's shaky voice pulled him out of his thoughts. John risked a glance at his sub, a little terrified of what he might see.
Rodney held up the slender silver collar, watching with something like awe on his face as the fine metal strands caught the light from the large windows. There was a small silver pendant dangling from its front. John, it said in bright blue letters that looked like they had been painted with a calligraphy brush. They weren't exactly the shade of Rodney's eyes, but they came close enough.
"Will you do me the honour?" John asked hoarsely. Rodney gazed at him then, and it felt like a punch in the gut. The sub was positively glowing, his eyes shining, and John thought stupidly, this is what he looks like happy.
"Yes." Rodney beamed at John as he handed him the collar. "Please."
John had to fumble a little before he managed to close the small clasp at the back of the collar, but then it was done, and he took a step back. He watched as Rodney ran his fingers along the metal around his throat, his eyes suspiciously bright as he blinked a few times in rapid succession. John beheld this man who, for all intents and purposes, was now his; he had given himself freely.
"Thank you," Rodney said, still smiling brightly as John pulled him into his arms and brought their lips together.
"No. Thank you."
~~~
End.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: BSDM
Summary: John didn't know when he had started to look forward to their encounters. He only knew that somehow, they had become the highlights of his week.
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard (AU)
The link I'm asking you to click today: 14 Valentines: Body Image
My mother's always been obsessed with her figure, while I eat what and when I like. Naturally, this leads to differences in opinion - including the good old 'you should eat less if you want to attract a man'. Sure, Mom. Thin equals happy.
Notes: With xanthelj's kind permission, I borrowed her "Coming Home" and "General and Dr. Sheppard" universe, if not her characters. For those of you who don't know, it's a bisexual BDSM universe where the distinction between top and sub is made as naturally as that between male and female.
Beta-read by Denis, broet-chan, and mckays_girl. Thank you!
~~~
Cover by smuffster
The Spaces Inside
John had made it a habit to pick up stray subs. It wasn't to feed them or get them off the street, or anything like that. They just came with no strings attached, and he liked the resigned submission he got for a few dollars. He didn't have to invest any part of himself to make them open up, and they didn't expect him to. Sociopath, one of his subs had called him, back when he'd still been trying that relationship thing; but he wasn't, not really. He knew there was a difference between 'right' and 'wrong', and mostly, he tried to stay on the 'right' side of things. John just found that a submissive's trust in their top came with a responsibility he wasn't prepared to carry; the disappointment when it didn't work out - again - was something he wasn't really seeking.
Yes, he might be a little messed up, but he didn't care. In his opinion, there was nothing wrong with seeking casual sex, as long as no one got hurt.
When he spotted the slumped figure behind a dumpster on 49th Street, his first impulse was to drive by. See nothing, hear nothing, sure as hell pick nothing up that can't move on its own. He had no idea what made him flip his turn signal on and pull up, what drove him to get out of his car and crouch down next to the fallen man.
It was a sub, he could tell from the faint marks around the wrists and neck, and not a bad-looking one. Broad shoulders, longish, lightly curled blond hair, big hands with long fingers that promised strength, surely making his surrender that much sweeter. His face was asymmetrical, but not without charisma, and before he knew it, John was paying a sub who'd been lurking nearby to help him get the guy into his car.
"What're you gonna do with him?" the sub asked, hovering nervously.
"None of your business," John answered tersely, but then a thought occurred to him. "Do you know his name?" Street subs never had any ID on them - those were too easily stolen.
"Rodney."
John nodded, got into his car, and drove home, all the while wondering what the hell he was doing. Every now and then he'd look into the rear-view mirror at the unconscious man on his backseat. 'Rodney' was wearing plain, but clean clothes, indicating that he didn't actually live on the street, but people didn't just collapse behind dumpsters without any reason. He sighed, hoping he wasn't making a mistake, and tried to concentrate on his driving, only to have his gaze drift back to the rear-view mirror a few moments later. John had made it a habit to pick up stray subs, yeah, but he usually chose ones that were actually in the proper condition to play. So really, what the hell was he doing?
John called Carson from his cell phone, and the good doctor was already there when he arrived in front of his house. Together, they carried the sub to the guest room; Carson all the while complaining about people who couldn't just drive to the bloody hospital like everyone else. His examination was quick and professional, and ended with him drawing some blood.
"Far as I can tell, he's just malnourished. Proper food and some rest, and he'll be right as rain," Carson explained
"Then what's that for?" John nodded at the blood sample as Carson stowed it away.
"Oh, we can never be too cautious, now, can we?" Carson smiled and patted his arm. "Now, how about some coffee?"
John followed the doctor into the kitchen, knowing that this was the part where he'd have to answer some questions. He busied himself with the coffee-maker, sighing when he turned around to find Carson patiently looking at him.
"All right, ask."
"There's not much to ask, really. I am curious why you picked him up, I'll admit that."
John shrugged. "Out of the goodness of my heart?"
It earned him a sad smile. "I know you've got a good heart, John. I only wonder sometimes if you know that, too."
John pressed his lips together and turned back to the coffee-maker, watching the dark liquid drop into the transparent pot. He'd prepared two cups, and all too soon the machine gave the shrill little beep that meant it was done.
Carson was still watching him when John handed him his cup. "Why did you bring that man here?" he asked softly.
"Maybe because if I hadn't, he'd still be lying out there." John hated to analyse his own feelings, and he wasn't all that convinced that there were any feelings to be analysed right now. "It was a spur of the moment thing, really. I don't know where it came from."
Carson looked at him for a moment, then he smiled and nodded.
"All right, lad. Just be careful you don't get robbed or anything."
They chatted a little about safer topics before Carson left, promising he'd send his bill within the next few days. John knew he wouldn't, though - the doctor had a soft spot for strays, and 'saving' one had probably raised John a level or two in his estimation.
Waiting for the sub to wake, John distracted himself with preparing some food and reading the list of dos and don'ts he'd found in one of the man's pockets. There weren't all that many don'ts, actually, but a short list of allergies and medical conditions on the back that explained why a few, rather harmless things were a non-negotiable no.
After a while, that, too, became boring, and John was thrumming his fingers on the side table, debating whether to get himself a book, when the figure on the bed finally stirred. John leaned forward, just in time to meet the confused gaze of the bluest eyes he'd ever seen. His heart started pounding, and he swallowed, not knowing what to make of that. The sub - Rodney - slowly focussed on his surroundings, tensing when he took in the unfamiliar room, and relaxing again when he realised he was in no shape to get away from whatever was awaiting him. John felt a pang of… something… when the sub's gaze finally came to rest on him. The look in Rodney's eyes was lost and resigned, like 'hope' was a word he'd erased from his vocabulary long ago. That look, along with his pale skin, made him look like a ghost.
"Doctor says you should eat something," John said, nodding at the plate on the side table to distract himself from those hollow eyes.
Rodney blinked at him, then at the food, and then back at him. John thought Rodney might be asking for his name when the man opened his mouth, but the sub surprised him.
"I can't pay you." His voice was wary and held a distinct accent John couldn't quite place. Canadian, maybe.
"Yes, you can," John contradicted softly, yet firmly, and rose from his seat. This was a stray sub, he reminded himself; the man would get what John meant.
Rodney gazed up at him with unbearably blue eyes, and then shuffled off the bed to kneel in front of him, fingers sure as they opened the button of John’s jeans, pulled down the zipper, and peeled both the pants and boxers away from John's groin.
John watched, fascinated, as Rodney started to lick and nibble him to full hardness, stopping only briefly to roll on a condom after getting John's consent. He was good, alternating soft strokes of his tongue with hard suction and the barest scrape of his teeth as he went down on John, blowing him like it was the only thing on his mind. And maybe it was. Some subs were like that. John let himself drift on the sensations until he felt he was close. Then he grabbed Rodney's head and held it steady as he pushed in, grunting as the head of his cock bumped against the back of the sub's throat. A few deep, hard thrusts, and John was coming into his condom, feeling the sub's throat muscles work as he swallowed around him to make it even better. Not bad. John allowed his fingers to card through the sub's soft, dark blond hair to let him know he'd done well, and then he took a step back and pulled off the condom.
"Eat," he told Rodney as he tucked himself away and straightened his clothes. Rodney nodded, reaching for the plate and wolfing down the food at a startling rate that was almost funny. John watched him, a little bemused. Rodney's obvious delight in the simple dish John had provided for him was strangely satisfying. Maybe it was some new, unexplored part of his sexuality; maybe he liked having subs surrender to him, seeing them helpless, even out of the bedroom. The explanation seemed as good as any.
Less than five minutes later the plate was empty. "Want some more?" John asked.
"Yes, please." Belatedly, Rodney seemed to remember, "uh, I've got allergies-"
"I know," John interrupted, holding up the list. "Don't worry, I'm not going to kill you with nuts or a slice of orange. Eat up and then I'll drive you wherever you want to go."
Rodney nodded again, taking his word at face value. It was strange, John thought as he watched the sub eat. He didn't even know the man, but this weird little domestic scene? It felt almost nice.
He wondered why.
~~~
Two days after driving Rodney to a gas station that presumably was close to the sub's home, John was back on 49th, slowing down when he spotted a familiar figure. As he stopped the car, Rodney pushed away from the wall he'd been leaning against, and slowly walked to the open window on the passenger side.
"Jump in," John said.
Rodney looked at him for a long moment, not saying a word. Then he opened the door and climbed into the seat. "I'll assume we won't have to negotiate," he said, his gaze fixed on the dashboard, "since you've already read my list."
"I'm not going to do anything you're not comfortable with," John promised. "You just have to tell me your safe word."
"Boston."
John raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment - that wasn't even close to being the weirdest safe word he'd heard. "All right."
Back at the house, he took his time undressing Rodney. He'd always liked to peel his subs out of their clothes, revealing skin that was his to mark. Rodney's was pale, almost translucent, and John stroked a hand over the sub's soft belly before he leaned in to suck at a little patch of skin right next to Rodney's belly button.
"Please." Rodney's breath hitched a little, and John smiled. "No marks that aren't gone by tomorrow, or I'll have to ask for more money."
"Sounds fair," John replied, sucking, licking and biting until there were several stark red marks standing out against the whiteness of Rodney's chest and belly.
Money had never been a problem. John's father had been a war veteran, a bona fide hero, and he'd made sure that whatever he did, it was for the proper payment. His mother, a meek and quiet sub, had always been good with numbers, investing what had been a nice financial bolster and turning it into a fortune. Whatever John wanted, he could afford to buy it.
He stopped sucking on another patch of Rodney's enticingly pale skin and leaned back to admire his handy-work. There was no pattern to the marks he'd made; they were simply random spots scattered across Rodney's body, evidence that it had been John's to caress, to hold, to claim. He nibbled his way down the fine trail of hair that led from Rodney's belly button down to the hem of his jeans, and continued the slow undressing he'd started. Rodney was hard by the time John had him fully naked, his cock long and thick, surrounded by coarse, golden curls. He wasn't circumcised, and John took his time to play, enjoying the slide of soft skin over hardened flesh, watching the blunt head appear and disappear behind the wrinkled foreskin.
"Don't come," he ordered, and proceeded to try his best to suck the sub's brains out through his dick. It earned him the most delightful little pants and shudders, breathy moans and whispered curses, and finally pleas and constant trembling. Small drops of pre-come were forming on the tip of Rodney's cock, and John licked them away. Carson had said the sub was as healthy as someone with his lifestyle could be, giving John the opportunity to tease a little further with his tongue. The sub didn't come, and against his will, John was impressed.
"Not bad," he murmured, leading the other man over to his bed, making him kneel. "Let's see if that ass is as nice as it looks like."
It was. Pale, full globes that reddened when John spanked them lightly. He smirked at the way the flesh wobbled slightly under his hand. Picking up the tube of lubricant from its place on the night stand, he squirted a good amount on his fingers. John didn't want to overdo it. He hadn't played in over a week, and he knew he tended to get a little rough when the need overcame him - better not to drag things out this time.
He shouldn't have chosen Rodney in the first place, he knew that. The sub had been so exhausted he'd collapsed, and two days was nowhere near enough time for him to regain his strength, but for some reason, John had been unable to forget Rodney's wide blue eyes and the hopelessness that had dulled them. He didn't have a saviour-complex or anything like that, but for the last two days, knowing Rodney was back on the street, John had felt restless. It made no sense at all, so John blamed it on a lingering physical attraction. That one was a first for him as well, but it wasn't half as scary as the idea that there might be another reason for this weird need to have Rodney right where he could see him.
And see him he did, kneeling on the bed before him, pale and naked and shivering. John could feel his breath coming faster; this man wasn't his usual type, but his surrender was sweeter than anything had been for John in a long time. He took great care to prepare the sub properly, even though it wasn't necessary - Rodney was as relaxed as a person could get, and John could have probably slipped inside after only a minute. Still, he didn't want to hurt the sub, not yet, and it was fun, testing how worked up John could get the man simply by finger-fucking him. Pretty worked up, it turned out, and with four fingers up Rodney’s ass, John actually considered going the whole way. Rodney could take it, he was sure of it, watching the sub's hole clench and unclench around his fingers, his thumb pressed into the crease between Rodney's cheeks. Rodney was amazingly responsive, shuddering with every brush of John's fingers over his prostate, and it would be so simple to make him break.
Take it easy, John reminded himself, pulling away to roll a condom over his dick, and slick himself up. Rodney was panting, head resting on his crossed forearms, ass high in the air. His face was red and his erection looked painful, but he still held on, deep inside his own headspace, from the looks of it, his blue eyes glazed and wide, not really focussing on his surroundings.
"Hang on," John instructed him, lining his cock up against Rodney’s hole, pushing, sinking inside the tight, slick channel with one long, slow thrust. He had to stop for a moment, had to ignore nerve endings that were screaming soft, hot, yes! and catch his breath. Around him, Rodney was twitching before he relaxed, opening up and giving in, his body becoming an instrument for John's pleasure as he submitted completely.
John pulled back until only the head of his cock was still inside Rodney, and then he pushed back in. There was no resistance at all, causing him to shudder, his hands fluttering over Rodney's flanks, belly, and chest, helplessly petting him. Rodney looked up at him, eyes drugged-out and glassy, and John didn't think he'd ever seen anyone so far gone before.
"Please," Rodney whispered.
With a choked groan, John started to thrust, slowly at first, then harder, grabbing Rodney's sweat-slick hips for better leverage as he let himself go. Rodney's soft moans were a perfect counterpoint to his pounding, and he tried to make sure he hit the sub's prostate on every other stroke, wanting to make this good for both of them. Leaning forward, he licked a stripe along Rodney's spine, right between his shoulder blades, biting down and sucking when he reached the juncture of shoulder and neck, leaving yet another mark.
John's orgasm took him by surprise, making his hips stutter and his breath catch as he emptied himself into the condom. For a moment, the world faded away, and when it came back, he was utterly spent, Rodney still kneeling in front of him, still hard and waiting. John flipped him around, closed his fist around Rodney's straining erection, and started to pump. "You can come now."
Rodney did so with a strangled moan, tensing up as his fluid splashed across his stomach, white liquid almost invisible against his pale skin. The sub sagged, closing his eyes, and John allowed himself to drop on the bed beside the other man. Slowly, they caught their breath, lying next to each other on the soft mattress. John reached out to stroke Rodney's arm, letting him be grounded by his touch, bringing him back into himself. In that moment still caught inside his own topspace, John felt an overwhelming tenderness towards the sub who had surrendered so sweetly, so entirely to his need. There was a strange urge to protect Rodney from the world, to make sure nothing ever happened to him. It was a little frightening, but at the same time, it felt natural, inevitable.
As his brain sluggishly kicked into gear, John shook himself, wondering what the hell he thought he was doing. He didn't get mushy after sex, and he certainly didn't form instant connections to strangers he was paying for their services. Yet he'd just come so hard he'd thought he might pass out. It made him wonder what it would be like to take his time with Rodney, to play with the sub's body until they were both shaking with lust. He usually didn't sleep with the same sub more than once, but…
"We definitely have to do this again."
Rodney opened his eyes to look at the ceiling, blinking as he visibly dragged himself the rest of the way back to reality. He was silent for a moment, and then he nodded.
"Okay."
~~~
It became something of a routine. Every two or three days, John would pick Rodney up and drive them back to his house, where they'd play - with the soft flogger John had bought thinking of the sub's pale back, with the thick leather straps he loved to wind around those sturdy wrists, with the ice dildo John kept in the freezer, buying the mould after realising just how sensitive Rodney was to even the slightest change in temperature.
The sub let it happen, let himself be used in whatever way John desired, and it was entirely possible that John loved him just a little bit for that. He got the submission he wanted, but it wasn't about trust, just about the money that passed from one man to the other at the end of each session. It was the perfect relationship, more honest than anything John had ever had before. Rodney never asked for anything. He didn't want little gifts to be sure of John's affection, he was always there when John needed him. In return, John paid more than the sub asked for; it was his reward for the way two or three times a week, Rodney was completely his.
John didn't know when he had started to look forward to their encounters. He only knew that somehow, they had become the highlights of his week.
There was one time John went too far, though. Rodney hadn't been all that happy with the idea of knife play in the first place, and when John started after a pretty intense round of seeing how far he could push Rodney into subspace, all it took was the slightest scratch of the blade across his forearm for Rodney to break down.
"Boston, Boston, Boston, Boston…" he whimpered, and John flung the knife aside to take the trembling sub into his arms, rocking him as he stroked soothingly up and down his back.
"Shhh, it's okay," he whispered softly, listening to Rodney's hiccupping breaths. "It's okay, I've got you, shhh, it's okay…"
"No!" Half-heartedly, Rodney tried to pull away, but John didn't let him.
"Not going to hurt you. Shhh, relax, no one's going to hurt you, I promise, calm down, it's okay." He kept mumbling promises of comfort and safety, and slowly, he could feel the tension drain from Rodney's body, until the sub melted against him, his harsh sobbing breaths calming to deep, regular breathing. "Come on, let's get you settled down."
Rodney nodded against John's collarbone and followed him like a child, not protesting as John led him to his bed and made him curl up underneath the blanket. John sat down beside him, running his hand through the sub's hair, watching Rodney blink slowly as his eyelids started to droop.
"I should go."
There was no way John was letting Rodney out on the street in his current state. What he said, though, was simply "I think you should stay," in a voice that allowed no argument. Rodney sighed, but nodded, and they were silent for a while.
"Why Boston?" John finally asked.
"I got my first PhD at Northeastern," Rodney told him quietly. "Youngest student ever. I was so smart; I thought I could change the world."
John didn't reply; he just sat on the edge of the bed for a while, carding his fingers through the soft strands of Rodney's hair, wondering who had broken this man, and why. "What happened?" he asked eventually, keeping his tone soft.
Rodney sighed again, and John hated the defeated sound of it.
"Too smart. I knew everything about almost everything, and I had the matching attitude." Rodney chuckled at the memory of his younger self. "It was… physics, computers, engineering, I just needed to see something and it made perfect sense. Same with numbers. I was a genius, and I knew it."
He fell silent, smiling slightly, and John waited for him to continue. Rodney's smile faded, turning into something bitter as he took a deep breath.
"One of my professors didn't like my attitude. She made sure I knew that." There was a short pause. "I made her the laughing stock of the scientific community by disproving her theories, one by one."
John could see where this was going.
"So she took revenge on you."
"She killed herself," Rodney whispered, staring at the wall like he could see the past. "She couldn't take it, and she killed herself. I… my fault, it was my fault, I…"
"Shhh." John pressed a small kiss on Rodney's temple, trying to soothe the shaking man. "You were young, you didn't know."
"She had a husband," Rodney continued, like he hadn't heard John, "and he… he made sure I could never hurt someone again, he made sure I…" He started to cry, curling in on himself.
John stayed with him, rocking him, whispering soft reassurances until the other man fell asleep. For a long while after, he just sat there, looking at Rodney's tear-streaked face, wishing there was a way to protect him from things long past.
~~~
John woke at the first streaks of dawn, staring at the grey ceiling while he listened to Rodney's quiet breathing.
He'd thought the protectiveness he'd felt had been a side effect of his own topspace, or later brought on by Rodney's tears, but it was still there, and it was… unsettling. Unsettling, because it meant that without really noticing, John had been gradually falling for the man who was sleeping next to him. He wanted to claim Rodney as his own, wanted to keep him safe. Most importantly, he wanted to know what Rodney looked like when he was happy. He didn't think he was in any way suited to make that happen.
Rodney was damaged, but so was John; he knew that. There had never been any abuse in his past, nobody who'd tried to break him, but neither had there been love. He wasn't sure he could feel that particular emotion, even if he wanted to. Rodney deserved better than someone who kept him as some kind of glorified pet, deserved better than being used as a tool for sexual gratification, which was what John was doing. He had been doing it right from the start and felt a little sick when he thought about how he'd made Rodney suck him off for a little food. If they kept this up, Rodney would only be broken further, and that was the last thing John wanted.
Turning his head, John looked at Rodney, a dark shape in the barely-lit room. There was the familiar curve of his neck, the well-explored set of his shoulders, the broad expanse of his pale back where he wasn't covered by the blanket - there wasn't one inch of skin on that body that John didn't know, that he hadn't paid for. His stomach clenched when he realised he had to give this up if he didn't want to hurt Rodney.
They couldn't go on like this. He'd have to let go.
~~~
For the next three weeks, John stayed away from 49th Street and its temptations.
He tried not to think about Rodney. His father would laugh if he could see him, how he basically reshaped the wide gardens around his house for lack of a real occupation to lose himself in. And it wasn't like the physical work even helped; instead, it gave him more than enough time to remember the sub while his hands were busy felling one tree and planting another. He couldn't stop thinking about the way Rodney's blue eyes glazed over when he went into subspace, the way his body was so deliciously responsive, the way it felt to have him close, in John's bed, when they were coming down together. So he'd abandoned his forgetting-through-working project and gone out to pick up other submissives, only they didn't work for him anymore. He'd just compare them to the one he was trying not to think about. It was driving him crazy.
In a desperate attempt at distracting himself, John went to see a movie. Just his luck the promising 'Dead or Alive' was actually a chick-flick about a soldier and his scientist husband who fought for their love in the midst of war, only for both to die when the scientist was run over by a car. John winced when around him, women started to sniffle over the romantic tragedy that was the lifebond. His parents hadn't been lifebonded, a lot of people never were. Unable to get a certain sub out of his head, John started to wonder if the reason wasn't the lifebond's stupid danger, as his father had called it, but rather a simple lack of emotion. He wondered, if his parents had loved each other, would his life have been different?
But his life already was different, wasn't it? He was infatuated, obviously unable to fight whatever it was that kept pulling him to Rodney, and for the first time, he started to think about simply giving in. To pick Rodney up, launch into a halted speech about stability and the advantages of having a safe top, and see if they could make it work. They hadn't talked all that much, granted, but that could be changed. John could change, and if they were compatible in bed, why not outside as well?
What it all came down to was that he needed to see Rodney. He needed the sub to calm him down, to ground him. He'd been feeling off-balance for three weeks now, and this couldn't go on.
He needed to go back.
Returning to 49th, he drove up and down the street twice, but Rodney wasn't there. Finally, John spotted the sub who had helped him get Rodney into his car an eternity ago, and stopped next to him.
"Where's Rodney?"
"He's got a job," the man answered curtly.
John cursed inwardly. He hadn't deluded himself into thinking he was the only one for Rodney, of course, but somehow, he'd just expected Rodney to be there, waiting for him. He'd always been there before when John had come to pick him up, no matter if only a day had passed and his marks hadn't even begun to fade, or if it had been the better part of a week since their last encounter. Rodney had been there, and John had come to count on that. Then again, he didn't even truly know if Rodney was actually willing to go back with him. Maybe he'd found another top who was more reliable than John. Damn it.
"When's he going to be back?"
"Dunno." The sub shrugged in a vaguely insulting way, and John had to take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. He didn't take disrespect very well, not even from a sub who had nothing to do with him.
"All right, tell him to wait for me when he gets back."
"Yeah, well, I guess he got tired of waiting for you when his money ran out," the sub spat with an accusing glare. "If you were going to dump him, you could have just told him so!"
Something inside John went cold. That couldn't mean what he thought it meant, it was… he couldn't have been the only one. It was impossible; it was insane, for Rodney to be his own kind of faithful to a man who had never given him the slightest reason to believe their relationship was based on anything other than business. Waiting for John to turn up, every day, until the simple lack of money had meant he couldn't wait any longer.
"Where is he?" John asked, feeling strangely numb.
"I don't see how that's any of your-"
"I just want to get him home, so don't give me that shit!"
The sub started at John's outburst, then he crossed his arms and pouted. "Broken Plate. One of those guys came by yesterday and- hey!"
John ignored the angry curses behind him as he sped away, blood rushing in his ears. The Broken Plate was an infamous club for tops who liked to play the old-fashioned games - games that left permanent marks, sometimes worse. They paid well, but they weren't safe; they broke people. The thought of Rodney's body trembling under their hands made John drive faster.
He had been stupid. In his need to keep Rodney safe, John had driven him to one of the worst places in town. And his sub had been stupid for going there in the first place. What the hell had he been thinking, selling himself to them? If he'd needed money so badly, there were a dozen other places that would take him in and not fuck with his mind.
The club was members only, but John didn't care about that as he pounded on the sturdy black door. After a minute, it was opened by a small Asian guy who glared at him.
"What?"
"You've got something that belongs to me," John told him, trying to keep a rein on his worry and fury. Thankfully, the Asian guy didn't even try to pretend he didn't know what John was talking about.
"Can you prove it?"
"I can break your neck," John offered hotly, and at that moment, he meant it. Apparently, the Asian guy realised that too, because he opened the door and stepped aside.
"He wasn't wearing a collar," he said grumpily as John entered the club. "This way."
John followed him up a narrow flight of stairs and down an equally narrow corridor. The man opened another door and John cursed at the sight that greeted him, cursed his own stupidity again even as he strode into the room. He had waited too long.
In the middle of the small, dark room, Rodney was hanging limp in a pair of chains, his bruised, naked body swaying gently two inches above the ground. His torso and upper thighs were covered with shallow cuts that were still seeping blood. He didn't even twitch when John stepped close and carefully removed the clamps from his nipples.
"Release him," John ordered, surprised as his voice came out in a low growl, surprised at the fierce surge of protectiveness he felt when the chains gave and Rodney fell into his arms. Carefully, he lowered the sub to the ground and shrugged out of his coat to cover the other man's nakedness. Then he patted Rodney's cheek, lightly, but the sub didn't even stir.
"Rodney, come on, wake up."
There was no reaction to his coaxing, and he felt a bubble of panic rise in his throat. There were no serious wounds, most of the cuts wouldn't even scar, but at that moment, he realised that he might be able to feel love after all. Love was the only explanation for the way his heart was trying to pound its way out of his chest, for the way his arms tightened protectively around his sub without his conscious decision. He longed to feel the bones of those who did this break under his hands
"What the hell did you do to him?" he snapped.
"Nothing much." The Asian guy shrugged uncomfortably - John would be well within his rights to seek retribution for others touching his sub without permission, and he wanted to, oh, how he wanted to, but getting Rodney out of there was more important. "He passed out during the knife play, that's all. Look, he wasn't collared, and he said he didn't have a top… how the hell were we supposed to know-"
"Can it." John gathered Rodney in his arms and walked towards the door, thinking the sub's sturdy body really shouldn't be that light, but maybe it was just the adrenaline that made it seem easy to carry the unconscious sub down the stairs and to his car.
"We've got to stop meeting like this," John murmured as he carefully placed Rodney on the backseat and tucked his coat around him. "I can't always be there to rescue you."
He caressed the sub's pale face, wishing those blue eyes would open and look at him. Then he called Carson, and drove home.
~~~
"Just what is it with you and that aversion against hospitals?" Carson scolded John as soon as he saw Rodney's battered figure.
John had been driving slowly for fear that any sharp braking might throw Rodney from the backseat and hurt him further. Subsequently, Carson had been forced to wait for them and wasn't exactly in the best mood.
"I'm not letting him out of my sight again," John replied grimly. Together they carried the sub inside. Déjà vu - this time, though, John steered them towards his own bedroom, instead of the guest room.
"Aye? And what's his opinion on that?" Carson challenged, clucking his tongue as he started to disinfect the numerous shallow cuts that were strewn across Rodney's body. "Did you even ask him if he wanted to stay?"
John thought about what that stray had told him, about how Rodney had been waiting for him. "He wants to stay."
"If you say so." Carson didn't prod him any further, taking care of Rodney in a sure, efficient way. It was like before, only that this time John was sure he'd actually get that bill Carson kept threatening him with.
He didn't mind. It wasn't like he couldn't pay up.
So, here they were, right back where they'd started, and John didn't have a clue what to do now. Sitting next to Rodney, who was lying unconscious in his bed, he thought he could safely say he'd never been this terrified. What if he messed this up? Worse, what if he messed Rodney up? What if he did the wrong thing at the wrong moment and Rodney broke completely, leaving John alone with his regrets and his self-hatred for the rest of his life?
Thankfully, his sub chose that moment to stir, distracting John from his pathetic insecurities. Rodney's eyelids fluttered, and then opened, revealing those startling blue eyes that had become part of John's addiction. He could tell the exact moment Rodney realised where he was, heart fluttering in his chest as the sub gave a soft sigh.
"I still can't pay you."
"Yes, you can," John corrected him, smiling a little, then frowning as Rodney struggled to sit up, wincing when the movement pulled at his cuts. John could have kicked himself when he realised what the sub was trying to do.
"That's not what I meant," he said shortly, pushing the man back down. "I don't want you to suck me off. At least not now," he added at Rodney's confused gaze.
"I, uh, I don't think I'm up for more right now," the sub said hesitantly, and it was John's turn to wince. He knew his behaviour hadn't exactly instilled confidence in the other man, but this was ridiculous.
"Rodney… no, wait. Look, let's start this again, okay? Yes, you can pay me, by staying out of that kind of shit. And to make sure you do, I'm not letting you out there again," John told him, not sure if that was a threat, or a promise. Rodney frowned, and John babbled on. "I can pay you, if you want, though I'd prefer not to. I mean, I will if that's what it takes to keep you here, but I was thinking more along the lines of, well, a relationship. If you want to. I mean, obviously, we hardly know each other, but-"
"Okay." Rodney's lips had formed into a small, crooked smile, and John felt himself relax. He reached out to run his thumb across Rodney's cheek, encountering soft skin and stubble.
"Okay." He smiled, and then grinned at Rodney's expectant gaze. Slowly, he leaned down, sliding his hand around Rodney's ear to the back of his head to sink his fingers into the fine hair. Rodney sighed against his mouth as their lips met for the first time, chastely, hesitantly, both of them burned too many times to be anything but shy. Rodney's lips were warm and a little chapped, but soft as they kissed again, and again. John thought he could become addicted to this. It wasn't really sexual, but it felt right; having Rodney with him felt right, and he'd nearly lost it.
"Do you have any idea how worried I was?" he scolded when he pulled back. "What the hell were you doing in that place?"
"You didn't come back. I thought I did something wrong," Rodney replied softly, closing his eyes. "Wouldn't have been the first time."
"No." John's voice was hoarse, and he cleared his throat. "That was just me being an idiot."
Rodney nodded slightly, scooting over to rest his cheek on John's knee in a gesture of trust and submission. John swallowed, automatically bringing his hand up to play with his sub's hair.
"Why did you go there?" he asked again.
Rodney was quiet for a moment, absent-mindedly stroking a hand up and down John's calf.
"I thought… I couldn't do what you asked me to, and then you were gone. I, I thought, if I could learn to…"
"God, Rodney." John pulled Rodney up and into his arms, holding him close. "Never think that. I'll never ask you to do anything you're not comfortable with."
Rodney returned the embrace, but stayed silent.
"Rodney? I'd never hurt you, you know that, right? Not like that." Never like that.
His sub shook his head, and over the blood rushing in his ears, John almost didn't notice the soft words.
"I trust you."
And in that moment, John couldn't remember why he'd been dreading those words so much, because they were the sweetest he'd ever heard.
~~~
John parked the car in front of the house and just sat behind the steering wheel for a moment, staring blindly at the front door. His entire body was sweating; he was feeling nauseous, and there didn't seem to be enough air in the car.
He couldn't remember ever being that nervous.
Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the small, oblong box from the passenger seat and went into the house. Even from the foyer, he could hear Rodney furiously typing. He smiled, nervousness forgotten for the moment as he listened to that familiar sound. Then he remembered the box he was holding, and his smile vanished as the anxiety returned full force. It had been a spur of the moment idea. He'd seen the thing a week ago, passing a shop window as he'd been walking through a side street, and it had been like a revelation. A little like finding the Holy Grail. He'd entered the small shop, made the necessary arrangements, and had returned today to pick it up. Making his way to the study, he hoped he wasn't making a mistake.
Rodney was hunched over his laptop as John entered the study, scowling at the monitor.
"You're late," he complained without looking up.
"I know," John returned, pressing a quick kiss on his cheek, "I had to pick something up."
Rodney grabbed his arm when he took a step back, and pulled him back in for a proper kiss. It was fast and dirty, like they hadn't seen each other for weeks instead of just a few hours, and it left both of them a little out of breath.
"What, did you get me something?" Rodney asked, giving that crooked little half-smile of his.
"As a matter of fact, I did." John took a deep breath, and handed him the box, trying to appear casual. "Here."
His sub turned the box over in his hands, clearly puzzled.
"What's that?"
"Open it, and you'll see."
Too nervous to watch Rodney's face, John occupied himself with the figures and equations on the laptop monitor. It had taken quite a bit of persuasion on his part to get Rodney back to physics again. Once he had, though, it had quickly become obvious that Rodney was a born scientist - curious, with an insatiable thirst for knowledge, and an ego like a diva. John didn't mind that last one. On the contrary, he loved watching Rodney getting all worked up over someone else's stupidity, even if it was only in the safety of their own home. The man who'd been sharing his bed and his life for the past year didn't have all that much in common with the meek, broken sub John had first picked up all those months ago, but he'd probably never be ready to resume his work in the outside world.
Well, that was what the internet was for, wasn't it?
Rodney had opened the box and was now busy pulling out the various layers of paper that kept his gift safe from scratches. Maybe John should have gotten something with a satin inlay, but he didn't want to come over as too mushy. Even if he was, sometimes, usually in the middle of the night when Rodney slept curled up against his side, and he was feeling a happiness that was so fierce it scared him. They were both damaged, but maybe a little less together than apart. Rodney had needed to be saved, and John thought that maybe had needed to save someone to realise that he wasn't as jaded and disillusioned as he'd once thought.
"John." Rodney's shaky voice pulled him out of his thoughts. John risked a glance at his sub, a little terrified of what he might see.
Rodney held up the slender silver collar, watching with something like awe on his face as the fine metal strands caught the light from the large windows. There was a small silver pendant dangling from its front. John, it said in bright blue letters that looked like they had been painted with a calligraphy brush. They weren't exactly the shade of Rodney's eyes, but they came close enough.
"Will you do me the honour?" John asked hoarsely. Rodney gazed at him then, and it felt like a punch in the gut. The sub was positively glowing, his eyes shining, and John thought stupidly, this is what he looks like happy.
"Yes." Rodney beamed at John as he handed him the collar. "Please."
John had to fumble a little before he managed to close the small clasp at the back of the collar, but then it was done, and he took a step back. He watched as Rodney ran his fingers along the metal around his throat, his eyes suspiciously bright as he blinked a few times in rapid succession. John beheld this man who, for all intents and purposes, was now his; he had given himself freely.
"Thank you," Rodney said, still smiling brightly as John pulled him into his arms and brought their lips together.
"No. Thank you."
~~~
End.