New SGA fic!
Title: Need
Fandom: SGA
Pairing: McShep, natch
Warning: M, for mature, though not technically explicit. I probably wouldn't recommend reading it at work.
Disclaimer: Not mine. :weep:
Warning: Complete and utter self-indulgence. I wanted to write something a little smutty, so I did.
Acknowledgments: Thanks to sapphiresmuse for the speedy beta. :)
Summary: There was want, and there was need, and John had always believed he'd known the difference.
There was want, and there was need, and John had always believed he'd known the difference.
Want was for things like candy bars and coffee and pizza, for fast cars and faster planes, hot showers and warm beds, for football and beer and a good book. Those were the things he wanted, things that made life a little better, but ultimately still things that he could live without.
Need was for the few things he couldn't live without, like food and water and air. Sex was always want, not need, because John was never stupid enough to think he couldn't survive without it.
But it turned out he'd been wrong, completely wrong -- tragically, pathetically wrong -- because this, this was need, sharp and bright and eager, twisted up inside him like a living thing, curling his toes and arching his back and making him sweat and pant and growl. Making him crazy, making him willing to screw it all, fuck the regs, pack his bags and go home so long as Rodney came with him because he knew now what need really was, and this was it, need was Rodney, Rodney thrusting into him with long, fierce strokes, strong hands gripping his legs, pressing him down hard into the mattress, making him burn in all the right ways in all the right places.
"Need," he gasped, hands clenching, "God, I need --" and it was need, not want, and he finally understood the difference, knew that everything he'd ever thought he'd needed, he hadn't, not even air, because you could live without air, for a few minutes at least, but he couldn't live without this, not for a few minutes, not even for an instant.
This was need, this ache, this feeling, and he couldn't see how he was going to survive all the countless future moments when he wouldn't have Rodney with him, on him, in him; he couldn't see how he would survive moments when they weren't touching, when they weren't close enough to share each other's breath. He couldn't see how he could survive all the moments that weren't this one.
"Need," he said again, desperately. "Fuck, please, I need --" everything, all at once, all right now, and Rodney was giving it to him because he understood; it was the same way he understood everything: instinctively, unconsciously, the way he got math and physics, the way he just looked at a problem and knew the answer without having to bother to work it out. He understood that this wasn't anything like wanting: wanting was for all the stupid things, like food and water and air, but not this, and Rodney knew it, he got it.
"Rodney," he managed, low and rough, "Rodney, I need..."
"I know," Rodney said, but not with words. "I know," Rodney said silently, with hungry kisses and sharp, delirious thrusts, with one arm gripping his thigh and the other squeezing him just... oh god, just right, stroking him inside and out and fuck, it was perfect, it was like being born, it was like dying, it was the creation of the universe and it was the end of time.
He got it now, finally understood it. Want was everything else. Need was Rodney.