Fic: Just So You Can Fly Pt. 2
Title: Just So You Can Fly
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Warning: Angst, nakedness, bondage. (This is not a how-to manual. Do not try this at home.)
Prompts: tictactales Robe, Loyalty, Rope Bondage
Summary: The only thing that ever settled John's insides was pulling Gs. When Todd the Wraith gave him years back, probably made of parts of Genii, all of John's insides squirmed to get out. Rodney thinks he has a solution.
Go to Part One
Just So You Can Fly Pt. 2
When he woke up, it was mostly dark and he was cuddled against Rodney's legs, one of Rodney's knees pressed into his armpit and his arm wrapped around Rodney's thighs. He blinked a bit at the feel of Rodeny's pants against his cheek. Rodney was sitting up, back propped against the wall behind the bed, mostly, and slumped over in a way that would kill his back. His hand was still in John's hair, curved around John's scalp. Rodney's laptop had slipped into hibernation on its own, it was dark, open, and poking John in the side. There was enough light coming from the moon through the balcony to see clearly enough.
He rolled a bit, more onto his back, so he could crick his neck comfortably enough to look up at Rodney's face. He was drooling slightly, his face a combination of slack and rumpled in worry. He looked so...Rodney. John couldn't stop the smile from carving itself across his lips, didn't want to, truth be told. Baby fine hair alternately sticking every which way and flattened to Rodney's skull, lips crooked and thinned to point of near invisibility, one of his cheeks vaguely jowled by gravity, the patrician nose bladed from the angle. John had never seen anyone more beautiful in his life than Rodney at that moment.
It couldn't last. Rodney's back would be kinked and John didn't particularly want to hear the bitching for the next three days, well, he didn't not want to hear it either. To everyone else, it would be an annoying indication that Rodney had slept wrong. To John, it would be a reminder that Rodney got him. And cared enough to do something about it.
It took everything John had to pull away from the warmth of Rodney's leg along his front and the comfort of Rodney's hand in his hair. He felt replete and refreshed and didn't want to give that up. But he did. It was late and past time he left, and well past time he let Rodney have his bed back enough for him stretch out.
"Rodney." John poked him in the leg.
Rodney groaned and smacked his lips.
"Rodney, time to move, buddy."
""s Con'ns watch," Rodney muttered.
John smiled. "You can go back to sleep, buddy. Just lay down, okay?"
Rodney moaned and clutched at John's arm. "Kay."
"I'm just going to go back to my quarters."
Rodney's eyes opened a little and he smacked his lips again, and then yawned. "John?"
"Yeah. Just gonna get dressed and go. You get some sleep."
Rodney sat up fully, eyes completely open. "Are you okay?"
"We're on Atlantis. Of course I'm fine."
"No, I mean from," Rodney gestured at the bed. "Did this work?"
John didn't know what to say for a moment, then didn't think he could say it past the burn in his throat. He nodded and managed a, "Yeah."
Rodney smiled then. "Good. I'm glad."
John's heart constricted a bit and the back of his throat grew a bit heavy. He didn't know what to say to that. Thank you didn't seem to be enough. Instead, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to Rodney's forehead. When he pulled away and climbed from the bed, Rodney shifted around to lay down. John poked through his clothes folded neatly beside the side table and began pulling them on while Rodney moved his laptop from the bed to the floor.
"John?" Rodney said while John strapped on his pistol.
"Hm?"
"You're welcome."
John smiled at him, ruffled the messy skein of hair on Rodney's head, and then headed to his own quarters.
He spent the next day in his usual routine, a morning run with Ronan, sticks with Teyla, doing paperwork, and finally wandering down to Rodney's lab well after most of his minions had taken off for the evening.
Rodney was sitting at his computer, grumbling to himself about something. John recognized Rodney's build-his-own-ZPM calculations and something in him quieted down. Rodney only trotted those out after he'd sent everyone away. John draped himself on the chair next to Rodney. "Whatcha doing?"
"Working." Rodney glared at him for a moment before the glare evaporated. "You're looking better today."
John smiled. "I feel better. Thank you."
Rodney studied him with the same expression he reserved for difficult calculations.
"What?"
"I want to try something," Rodney said. "Test a hypothesis."
"Oh?"
Rodney rummaged through a box of wires and cables, then pulled up what looked like a Cat-5 cable, colored artificially flavored bubblegum blue, with one of the ends clipped off.
John frowned. "What's that for?"
Rodney held the cord out in his palm, the same way a wallflower fourth grade boy might hold out a piece of Halloween candy for a girl he hoped would like him back. "Will you trust me?"
John turned his frown on Rodney, who was staring back at him all earnestness and nervousness. Yes, he discovered, yes, he would. "Yes."
Rodney smiled. "Hold your wrists out."
Oh. A little unsure---the lab was one of the least secure places, as far as people wandering in and out go-John held his wrists out, as if Rodney was going to handcuff him and lead him off to jail.
With his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth, Rodney slowly wound one half of the cable around John's right wrist and then the other half around John's left wrist. He watched silently, without offering any resistance, as loops of blue cable hugged his wrists and drew them together. Once done, Rodney tucked the lengths at each end of the cable into John's right hand. John pulled at them gently, testing the limits and snugness. They didn't compress him like the bandages had, or like his robe had, but they held him firmly, quieted the thrum of energy running through his muscles just as the bandages had.
"It wouldn't take much for you to get free on your own. Not like with the bandages." Rodney glared at John's wrists. "I had to return them to the infirmary. Carson runs that place like some kind of military reform school." Rodney poked at a piece of dull metal covered by paper. "I have the zat."
"Oh." John took a deep breath and let it go. He felt deeply oxygenated and a bit lazy now. He let his body fall lax in the chair.
Rodney smirked. "Works?"
John nodded. He remembered what Rodney had said before he'd been wrapped the bandages. He had to speak or it would not happen. "Yeah."
"Just as good? Less? More?"
John thought about the relaxation spreading through his body from his wrists. Of course, he'd felt mellow pretty much all day long, unlike last time, when he'd been strung like warped guitar string. But still, relaxation spreading all over. "Just as good, maybe better. Calmer today."
Rodney's smirk turned into a smile. "Okay, then. I'm gonna just," Rodney pointed at the laptop. "Tell me if you need anything."
"Kay," John said.
With his eyes drooping, he listened more than watched Rodney work on the laptop. Sometimes Rodney sat back and stretched, but mostly he leaned forward and typed.
He didn't sleep, not precisely. John had no idea what to call his state. It was sort of like that place between sleeping and waking, where the body was still, quiet, and all of everything inside of him was where it was supposed to be without any Gs, without any gripping, or any robe. It was that place that snooze alarms were built for, so you could just lie there in bed, toasty warm from body heat and cocooning blankets, not dreaming, but not thinking either. It was.... It was perfect.
Eventually, there was that vibration again. The one from Rodney's room yesterday, only a bit louder because it rattled along the table. John opened his eyes all the way, just knowing he was smiling goofily when he focused on Rodney.
"It's been thirty minutes," Rodney said.
Wow, John thought. That long.
The cables were tugged from his hands, then gently unwrapped. His wrists were a bit reddened from heat and tenderness. There was an mark from the bit of the cable in odd places, where he'd pulled on them. Rodney dropped the cable on table top and produced a pot of lotion like stuff they got from the Athosians in trade for soap. Rodney's fingers massaged his wrists, down into his palms, spreading the cool cream into his skin. John felt boneless and a little sleepy.
Rodney capped the pot. "There."
"Thanks, buddy," John managed.
"I don't think you'll be able to do dinner for a while."
John smiled. "Already ate."
"Can you make it to your quarters? You should catch up on your sleep."
Great idea. John yawned. "In a minute."
Rodney smiled. "Need help getting there?"
John huffed a breath, too lazy to get disgruntled. "Nah. I'll head out in a minute."
Still smiling, Rodney shook his head and turned back to the computer. John sat up, even though that's the last thing he wanted to do, and watched him work. Finally, Rodney shut the computer down. John levered himself to his feet, still feeling as if he were floating a bit, and meandered after Rodney, at least until he had to separate to reach his own quarters.
Further experimentation in the following weeks showed that various levels of binding with various materials produced the same effects for John, but not when he did it himself. He suspected that it was mostly just Rodney who could keep him together with a few loops of rope or whatever else was handy---he could trust Rodney to not think less of him for it---but Ronon or Teyla could probably do in a pinch. Maybe. He didn't know how Ronon would react to a man willingly putting himself into such a vulnerable position and he suspected that Teyla might not think less of him, but would certainly treat him as if he were more, well, fragile. Rodney didn't treat him any differently. Maybe to Rodney, nothing had changed, aside from a new dimension to their friendship. John had no way to describe the relief he felt to discover that Rodney was just as Rodney now as he ever had been. There were some differences. Rodney always carried a loop of 5-50 cord now. The cord was just long enough to loop around both of John's wrists in an infinity loop with enough space for Rodney to hold both ends in one hand, or to tuck the ends into John's fist. Sometimes, when John was jiggling and didn't notice, he'd find one wrist circled by Rodney's hand and slowly squeezed for a few moments.
No, despite the loyalty he felt toward Ronon and Teyla, and the loyalty he knew they had for him, it would only work with Rodney. They loyalty between the two of them was thicker, partly a shared set of cultural values, despite the Canadian thing, partly a shared reference point, but mostly because it was Rodney. Rodney understood action and reaction. If you subject a mass to gravity, it will fall with predictable acceleration. If you bound John Sheppard for this length of time in such a manner, he would predictably alter his behavior. To Rodney, there didn't seem to be a difference between calculating physics and calculating John. Once he understood the laws of John, that was apparently all there was to it. Passing judgment, which was generally the first thing Rodney did when confronted with someone's behavior, wasn't in the agenda. At least not with John. Connected and safe. It was heady enough for John to doubt its reliability, if it was even a good thing. But it was Rodney. And Rodney, all evidence to the contrary, just knew how to handle John with this thing.
A week after Rodney's sister had gone back home and Rod was gone---that had been too weird, John had enjoyed a sociable version Rodney, but couldn't see himself allowing Rod to touch him---they settled. Rodney had taken to gripping his wrist to settle himself these days, not just John. He didn't do it often, but usually once a day John could count on feeling that wide, strong hand calloused by years of fixing Atlantis. But not today, apparently. Rodney had been absent all day long. John had wandered around, looking for him, but nothing. He kept missing him. With nothing left, John slunk into the mess and fetched a piece of pie. He shifted crumbs around with his fork, but didn't eat. He didn't think the food would fit in his belly with the sinking lump of tension he'd picked up. Maybe Rodney was finished with their thing. Maybe he'd figured out all he thought he needed to know and was moving on.
Then Rodney dropped into the chair next to him. "I've been looking for you everywhere!"
John tilted his head. "Seems to be going around."
"You gonna eat that?" Rodney reached for the pie just as John pushed it toward him. "I've got something worked out, Colonel. Something I think you'll really like. And I've got something else worked out. I don't know if you'll like it or not, but I think you'll agree with it."
John frowned. "What is it?"
John found his wrist circled by Rodney's fingers for a moment, then let go. He also got a close up of Rodney shoveling the last chunk of pie into an already full mouth. He looked away. "Oh."
"No need to sound so bored, Colonel."
He was glad he'd looked away. Rodney could be hard to take in many ways, one of the worst was his table manners. Or complete lack thereof.
Rodney stood, still chewing. "C'mon."
"What's the rush?"
"Do you want to see this or not?"
John stood up, too, and stuck his hands in his pockets. Rodney gave him a narrow-eyed glare, then led the way to Rodney's quarters.
There was rope on the bed. A lot of rope. It was soft rope, too, made from a cotton type fiber that really wasn't good for anything except livestock. It was thick rope, off-white in the way of unbleached fibers. John took a few halting steps, enough to reach out and touch the rope.
Rodney settled to a halt next to him. "I found it at some ridiculous store where they played too much country music and wore hats that were far too large. They don't check carryon luggage on the Daedelus." Rodney puffed himself up, as if he'd pulled off some feat of heroic derring do. "I did some research. It's all so simple now that I understand the basics. Hardly a match for my genius, naturally. It is something of an art form, however, so I it will take even me a bit of practice." Rodney glared at him. "Technique is everything, so don't complain about feel."
"Rodney," John said.
"I have several books on the subject, but I don't think I'll need them. It is simple physics and anatomy. I've studied anatomy."
"What are you talking about?"
Rodney was silent for a few moments, to the extent that John didn't think he'd answer. Rodney picked up the rope, holding it out to John. "Do you trust me?"
He looked at the rope and didn't know what to think. He reached out and trailed his fingers over it. "Yes."
Rodney smiled. "Good." He tossed the rope on the bed. "Now, a few things first."
John frowned.
"The only condition we have so far is that you have to talk. You have to tell me yes and no and if anything doesn't feel right. And the other condition, that you are protected while we do this. If you don't feel safe, we don't do it. Ever." Rodney pointed to the zat on the bed side table.
John's frown relaxed. He nodded.
"We're going to add to that. We never mentioned it, but no offworld. I got that, no need to tell me. No declarations in the gateroom or mess hall, or anyplace else. This is strictly you and me." Rodney peeked up at him, looking a bit uncertain. "It probably didn't need to be said, but controlling the variables is important."
John nodded.
"What we're going to do here, tonight, we don't do often. No more than once a month. It's..." Rodney's hands flexed, as if reaching for the words. "It's too intense. Too much, I think. The smaller stuff," Rodney waved dismissively, "around the wrists, I don't think we need to set limitations. We can discuss it more if it gets to be," Rodney sucked in a serious breath, "intense."
When it became obvious Rodney was waiting for a response, John nodded. "Yeah. I agree."
Rodney smiled. "Good. Now, go on the balcony and look around. You'll see that there's no way anyone can see into my quarters. I'll start setting things up in here. Go, look."
John balked at the ridiculousness of the suggestion, but nodded when Rodney's face started to pucker into a frown. Rodney bustled around the room while he looked at the view. He'd already known that there wasn't anything to see but seemingly endless ocean. When Rodney started talking, he wasn't surprised to be ordered to strip, which he did quickly and efficiently. He thought he should be bothered by the fact that he was naked and Rodney was fully dressed, but he wasn't.
He should be, though. The last time this had happened was months ago, not long after Todd the Wraith, but a few weeks before Rodney's sister and Rodney's extended absence from Atlantis. Maybe that was it. He'd spent more than a month without Rodney's grounding touch. It wasn't the ropes so much, though the 5-50 cord loop at odd times of the day meant a lot, but the circle of fingers compressing his wrist. He'd done it to himself, of course, like he'd always had, but it hadn't been enough. It wasn't Rodney.
He stood still while Rodney threaded and wove the rope around him and around a large, metal ring. He could feel the cool metal against his spine, where it hung and sometimes slapped against his skin as Rodney moved around him, intent on criss-crossing his body with diamond shaped rope patterns and carefully placed layers of wrapped rope around his biceps, thighs, and chest.
John closed his eyes and swayed with the push and pull of Rodney and his rope. This, he decided, was better than the bandages had been. Rodney's fingers shifted along his body, testing and moving the rope around. The fingers soothed his skin in their wake, smoothed the rope against his skin. That floating state, the half asleep, half awake state, settled into his body with an easy lassitude. At least until he felt a sharp sting on his left buttock.
Rodney has slapped his butt. Spanked him with a flat hand. John's eyes popped open and he sucked in a breath. It hadn't hurt, but it was shocking.
"Stay alert, John. You can float off when I'm done."
Stay alert? He tried. He listened carefully to Rodney's movements, tried to figure out the intricate patterns Rodney was weaving, but the push-pull-sway with Rodney's fingers and the rope collecting him settled back in and dragged him toward the floating. So Rodney slapped him on the butt again.
"Don't make me do that. You have to stay alert until I'm done."
In the end, it took one more stinging slap to his butt before Rodney was satisfied with is weaving.
"Excellent work, if I do say so myself," Rodney said, standing in front of him and surveying the rope with a smirk.
John blinked at him, unable to say a thing. He was fighting to keep his eyes open, to stay away from the siren call of the floating.
He focused on the ropes as Rodney checked them over again. They were wrapped around his biceps and chest, row after row. He could move his biceps away from his ribs, but only a fraction of an inch. The give was a little loose for his tastes, but the amount of rope winding around him made him feel snugged in. There was a similar winding around his thighs, which held them together, and around his hips. His wrists had a few coils of rope, which were bound to his thighs. He could not move his hands away from his legs. his waist and the rest of his chest had tight webbing holding him in.
Rodney moved around behind him where a few metal clicks sounded around his back. "Don't move. Not so much as twitch. This isn't dangerous, but I want it to be smooth, with as little as motion as possible."
John found that he could nod.
"Talk, John."
John swallowed. "Yes."
Rodney pulled a drape away from the wall next to the open balcony doors. There was a handle for a winch? John watched him crank the handle, listened to the click of gears, and then felt himself lift from the floor. His eyes widened and he nearly flailed around. He held his head stiffly, wondering if he should make Rodney put him down. His body went up further, tilted until he was suspended flat, face down, with half of his body over the balcony and the other half in Rodney's quarters.
The wind ruffled through his hair and across his naked skin. He blinked again, holding perfectly still. He could see the ocean. The balcony didn't extend far, so if he lifted his chin a bit, he could see nothing but ocean several stories down. With the view and the feel of the wind....
"I'm flying," John said.
Rodney loomed in his vision, smiling and very pleased with himself. "Yes. That was the intent. You have no idea how difficult it was to---nevermind. One more thing and you can go wherever it is that you go that makes you so, so whatever."
John smiled. "I'm flying."
Rodney patted his cheek, and then pulled a wide piece of cloth down to wrap around his forehead. "There. You'll be able to rest your neck just by lowering your head down on plane with the rest of your body. Don't worry, it's hooked to a breakaway clip. Should my engineering fail for some completely unforeseeable and unimaginable reason, you won't break your neck."
"Rodney," he said through the floating feeling, "I'm flying."
"I know. I made this just for you to fly."
The floating feeling was overwhelming him, connecting him completely to Rodney, now. "C'mere," he said.
Rodney furrowed his brow and took a step closer.
"Closer."
Rodney took another step, and then another when asked, until he was breathing the same air as John. John tilted his head, please that he could do so freely, and pushed his chin forward. He tasted Rodney's crooked lips for the first time. He felt the surprise. He opened his mouth and pressed forward with his tongue. Rodney sucked in a breath, stiff as John used to be before Rodney came along and connected with him, before he abruptly relaxed, opened his mouth, and let John in, too. John could stay that way forever, connected to Rodney by rope, flight, and mouth.
Rodney cupped John's cheeks and stepped back. "You fly," Rodney whispered. "We'll talk about this," Rodney's thumbs traced John's lips, "after." Rodney pressed a kiss to John's lips. "I'll stand watch so you can fly."
John smiled, eyes drifting closed. Rodney moved back into the room, but John didn't pay much attention. Instead, he let the floating feeling from the ropes and his connection to Rodney launch him into the sky.
The End
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Warning: Angst, nakedness, bondage. (This is not a how-to manual. Do not try this at home.)
Prompts: tictactales Robe, Loyalty, Rope Bondage
Summary: The only thing that ever settled John's insides was pulling Gs. When Todd the Wraith gave him years back, probably made of parts of Genii, all of John's insides squirmed to get out. Rodney thinks he has a solution.
Go to Part One
Just So You Can Fly Pt. 2
When he woke up, it was mostly dark and he was cuddled against Rodney's legs, one of Rodney's knees pressed into his armpit and his arm wrapped around Rodney's thighs. He blinked a bit at the feel of Rodeny's pants against his cheek. Rodney was sitting up, back propped against the wall behind the bed, mostly, and slumped over in a way that would kill his back. His hand was still in John's hair, curved around John's scalp. Rodney's laptop had slipped into hibernation on its own, it was dark, open, and poking John in the side. There was enough light coming from the moon through the balcony to see clearly enough.
He rolled a bit, more onto his back, so he could crick his neck comfortably enough to look up at Rodney's face. He was drooling slightly, his face a combination of slack and rumpled in worry. He looked so...Rodney. John couldn't stop the smile from carving itself across his lips, didn't want to, truth be told. Baby fine hair alternately sticking every which way and flattened to Rodney's skull, lips crooked and thinned to point of near invisibility, one of his cheeks vaguely jowled by gravity, the patrician nose bladed from the angle. John had never seen anyone more beautiful in his life than Rodney at that moment.
It couldn't last. Rodney's back would be kinked and John didn't particularly want to hear the bitching for the next three days, well, he didn't not want to hear it either. To everyone else, it would be an annoying indication that Rodney had slept wrong. To John, it would be a reminder that Rodney got him. And cared enough to do something about it.
It took everything John had to pull away from the warmth of Rodney's leg along his front and the comfort of Rodney's hand in his hair. He felt replete and refreshed and didn't want to give that up. But he did. It was late and past time he left, and well past time he let Rodney have his bed back enough for him stretch out.
"Rodney." John poked him in the leg.
Rodney groaned and smacked his lips.
"Rodney, time to move, buddy."
""s Con'ns watch," Rodney muttered.
John smiled. "You can go back to sleep, buddy. Just lay down, okay?"
Rodney moaned and clutched at John's arm. "Kay."
"I'm just going to go back to my quarters."
Rodney's eyes opened a little and he smacked his lips again, and then yawned. "John?"
"Yeah. Just gonna get dressed and go. You get some sleep."
Rodney sat up fully, eyes completely open. "Are you okay?"
"We're on Atlantis. Of course I'm fine."
"No, I mean from," Rodney gestured at the bed. "Did this work?"
John didn't know what to say for a moment, then didn't think he could say it past the burn in his throat. He nodded and managed a, "Yeah."
Rodney smiled then. "Good. I'm glad."
John's heart constricted a bit and the back of his throat grew a bit heavy. He didn't know what to say to that. Thank you didn't seem to be enough. Instead, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to Rodney's forehead. When he pulled away and climbed from the bed, Rodney shifted around to lay down. John poked through his clothes folded neatly beside the side table and began pulling them on while Rodney moved his laptop from the bed to the floor.
"John?" Rodney said while John strapped on his pistol.
"Hm?"
"You're welcome."
John smiled at him, ruffled the messy skein of hair on Rodney's head, and then headed to his own quarters.
He spent the next day in his usual routine, a morning run with Ronan, sticks with Teyla, doing paperwork, and finally wandering down to Rodney's lab well after most of his minions had taken off for the evening.
Rodney was sitting at his computer, grumbling to himself about something. John recognized Rodney's build-his-own-ZPM calculations and something in him quieted down. Rodney only trotted those out after he'd sent everyone away. John draped himself on the chair next to Rodney. "Whatcha doing?"
"Working." Rodney glared at him for a moment before the glare evaporated. "You're looking better today."
John smiled. "I feel better. Thank you."
Rodney studied him with the same expression he reserved for difficult calculations.
"What?"
"I want to try something," Rodney said. "Test a hypothesis."
"Oh?"
Rodney rummaged through a box of wires and cables, then pulled up what looked like a Cat-5 cable, colored artificially flavored bubblegum blue, with one of the ends clipped off.
John frowned. "What's that for?"
Rodney held the cord out in his palm, the same way a wallflower fourth grade boy might hold out a piece of Halloween candy for a girl he hoped would like him back. "Will you trust me?"
John turned his frown on Rodney, who was staring back at him all earnestness and nervousness. Yes, he discovered, yes, he would. "Yes."
Rodney smiled. "Hold your wrists out."
Oh. A little unsure---the lab was one of the least secure places, as far as people wandering in and out go-John held his wrists out, as if Rodney was going to handcuff him and lead him off to jail.
With his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth, Rodney slowly wound one half of the cable around John's right wrist and then the other half around John's left wrist. He watched silently, without offering any resistance, as loops of blue cable hugged his wrists and drew them together. Once done, Rodney tucked the lengths at each end of the cable into John's right hand. John pulled at them gently, testing the limits and snugness. They didn't compress him like the bandages had, or like his robe had, but they held him firmly, quieted the thrum of energy running through his muscles just as the bandages had.
"It wouldn't take much for you to get free on your own. Not like with the bandages." Rodney glared at John's wrists. "I had to return them to the infirmary. Carson runs that place like some kind of military reform school." Rodney poked at a piece of dull metal covered by paper. "I have the zat."
"Oh." John took a deep breath and let it go. He felt deeply oxygenated and a bit lazy now. He let his body fall lax in the chair.
Rodney smirked. "Works?"
John nodded. He remembered what Rodney had said before he'd been wrapped the bandages. He had to speak or it would not happen. "Yeah."
"Just as good? Less? More?"
John thought about the relaxation spreading through his body from his wrists. Of course, he'd felt mellow pretty much all day long, unlike last time, when he'd been strung like warped guitar string. But still, relaxation spreading all over. "Just as good, maybe better. Calmer today."
Rodney's smirk turned into a smile. "Okay, then. I'm gonna just," Rodney pointed at the laptop. "Tell me if you need anything."
"Kay," John said.
With his eyes drooping, he listened more than watched Rodney work on the laptop. Sometimes Rodney sat back and stretched, but mostly he leaned forward and typed.
He didn't sleep, not precisely. John had no idea what to call his state. It was sort of like that place between sleeping and waking, where the body was still, quiet, and all of everything inside of him was where it was supposed to be without any Gs, without any gripping, or any robe. It was that place that snooze alarms were built for, so you could just lie there in bed, toasty warm from body heat and cocooning blankets, not dreaming, but not thinking either. It was.... It was perfect.
Eventually, there was that vibration again. The one from Rodney's room yesterday, only a bit louder because it rattled along the table. John opened his eyes all the way, just knowing he was smiling goofily when he focused on Rodney.
"It's been thirty minutes," Rodney said.
Wow, John thought. That long.
The cables were tugged from his hands, then gently unwrapped. His wrists were a bit reddened from heat and tenderness. There was an mark from the bit of the cable in odd places, where he'd pulled on them. Rodney dropped the cable on table top and produced a pot of lotion like stuff they got from the Athosians in trade for soap. Rodney's fingers massaged his wrists, down into his palms, spreading the cool cream into his skin. John felt boneless and a little sleepy.
Rodney capped the pot. "There."
"Thanks, buddy," John managed.
"I don't think you'll be able to do dinner for a while."
John smiled. "Already ate."
"Can you make it to your quarters? You should catch up on your sleep."
Great idea. John yawned. "In a minute."
Rodney smiled. "Need help getting there?"
John huffed a breath, too lazy to get disgruntled. "Nah. I'll head out in a minute."
Still smiling, Rodney shook his head and turned back to the computer. John sat up, even though that's the last thing he wanted to do, and watched him work. Finally, Rodney shut the computer down. John levered himself to his feet, still feeling as if he were floating a bit, and meandered after Rodney, at least until he had to separate to reach his own quarters.
Further experimentation in the following weeks showed that various levels of binding with various materials produced the same effects for John, but not when he did it himself. He suspected that it was mostly just Rodney who could keep him together with a few loops of rope or whatever else was handy---he could trust Rodney to not think less of him for it---but Ronon or Teyla could probably do in a pinch. Maybe. He didn't know how Ronon would react to a man willingly putting himself into such a vulnerable position and he suspected that Teyla might not think less of him, but would certainly treat him as if he were more, well, fragile. Rodney didn't treat him any differently. Maybe to Rodney, nothing had changed, aside from a new dimension to their friendship. John had no way to describe the relief he felt to discover that Rodney was just as Rodney now as he ever had been. There were some differences. Rodney always carried a loop of 5-50 cord now. The cord was just long enough to loop around both of John's wrists in an infinity loop with enough space for Rodney to hold both ends in one hand, or to tuck the ends into John's fist. Sometimes, when John was jiggling and didn't notice, he'd find one wrist circled by Rodney's hand and slowly squeezed for a few moments.
No, despite the loyalty he felt toward Ronon and Teyla, and the loyalty he knew they had for him, it would only work with Rodney. They loyalty between the two of them was thicker, partly a shared set of cultural values, despite the Canadian thing, partly a shared reference point, but mostly because it was Rodney. Rodney understood action and reaction. If you subject a mass to gravity, it will fall with predictable acceleration. If you bound John Sheppard for this length of time in such a manner, he would predictably alter his behavior. To Rodney, there didn't seem to be a difference between calculating physics and calculating John. Once he understood the laws of John, that was apparently all there was to it. Passing judgment, which was generally the first thing Rodney did when confronted with someone's behavior, wasn't in the agenda. At least not with John. Connected and safe. It was heady enough for John to doubt its reliability, if it was even a good thing. But it was Rodney. And Rodney, all evidence to the contrary, just knew how to handle John with this thing.
A week after Rodney's sister had gone back home and Rod was gone---that had been too weird, John had enjoyed a sociable version Rodney, but couldn't see himself allowing Rod to touch him---they settled. Rodney had taken to gripping his wrist to settle himself these days, not just John. He didn't do it often, but usually once a day John could count on feeling that wide, strong hand calloused by years of fixing Atlantis. But not today, apparently. Rodney had been absent all day long. John had wandered around, looking for him, but nothing. He kept missing him. With nothing left, John slunk into the mess and fetched a piece of pie. He shifted crumbs around with his fork, but didn't eat. He didn't think the food would fit in his belly with the sinking lump of tension he'd picked up. Maybe Rodney was finished with their thing. Maybe he'd figured out all he thought he needed to know and was moving on.
Then Rodney dropped into the chair next to him. "I've been looking for you everywhere!"
John tilted his head. "Seems to be going around."
"You gonna eat that?" Rodney reached for the pie just as John pushed it toward him. "I've got something worked out, Colonel. Something I think you'll really like. And I've got something else worked out. I don't know if you'll like it or not, but I think you'll agree with it."
John frowned. "What is it?"
John found his wrist circled by Rodney's fingers for a moment, then let go. He also got a close up of Rodney shoveling the last chunk of pie into an already full mouth. He looked away. "Oh."
"No need to sound so bored, Colonel."
He was glad he'd looked away. Rodney could be hard to take in many ways, one of the worst was his table manners. Or complete lack thereof.
Rodney stood, still chewing. "C'mon."
"What's the rush?"
"Do you want to see this or not?"
John stood up, too, and stuck his hands in his pockets. Rodney gave him a narrow-eyed glare, then led the way to Rodney's quarters.
There was rope on the bed. A lot of rope. It was soft rope, too, made from a cotton type fiber that really wasn't good for anything except livestock. It was thick rope, off-white in the way of unbleached fibers. John took a few halting steps, enough to reach out and touch the rope.
Rodney settled to a halt next to him. "I found it at some ridiculous store where they played too much country music and wore hats that were far too large. They don't check carryon luggage on the Daedelus." Rodney puffed himself up, as if he'd pulled off some feat of heroic derring do. "I did some research. It's all so simple now that I understand the basics. Hardly a match for my genius, naturally. It is something of an art form, however, so I it will take even me a bit of practice." Rodney glared at him. "Technique is everything, so don't complain about feel."
"Rodney," John said.
"I have several books on the subject, but I don't think I'll need them. It is simple physics and anatomy. I've studied anatomy."
"What are you talking about?"
Rodney was silent for a few moments, to the extent that John didn't think he'd answer. Rodney picked up the rope, holding it out to John. "Do you trust me?"
He looked at the rope and didn't know what to think. He reached out and trailed his fingers over it. "Yes."
Rodney smiled. "Good." He tossed the rope on the bed. "Now, a few things first."
John frowned.
"The only condition we have so far is that you have to talk. You have to tell me yes and no and if anything doesn't feel right. And the other condition, that you are protected while we do this. If you don't feel safe, we don't do it. Ever." Rodney pointed to the zat on the bed side table.
John's frown relaxed. He nodded.
"We're going to add to that. We never mentioned it, but no offworld. I got that, no need to tell me. No declarations in the gateroom or mess hall, or anyplace else. This is strictly you and me." Rodney peeked up at him, looking a bit uncertain. "It probably didn't need to be said, but controlling the variables is important."
John nodded.
"What we're going to do here, tonight, we don't do often. No more than once a month. It's..." Rodney's hands flexed, as if reaching for the words. "It's too intense. Too much, I think. The smaller stuff," Rodney waved dismissively, "around the wrists, I don't think we need to set limitations. We can discuss it more if it gets to be," Rodney sucked in a serious breath, "intense."
When it became obvious Rodney was waiting for a response, John nodded. "Yeah. I agree."
Rodney smiled. "Good. Now, go on the balcony and look around. You'll see that there's no way anyone can see into my quarters. I'll start setting things up in here. Go, look."
John balked at the ridiculousness of the suggestion, but nodded when Rodney's face started to pucker into a frown. Rodney bustled around the room while he looked at the view. He'd already known that there wasn't anything to see but seemingly endless ocean. When Rodney started talking, he wasn't surprised to be ordered to strip, which he did quickly and efficiently. He thought he should be bothered by the fact that he was naked and Rodney was fully dressed, but he wasn't.
He should be, though. The last time this had happened was months ago, not long after Todd the Wraith, but a few weeks before Rodney's sister and Rodney's extended absence from Atlantis. Maybe that was it. He'd spent more than a month without Rodney's grounding touch. It wasn't the ropes so much, though the 5-50 cord loop at odd times of the day meant a lot, but the circle of fingers compressing his wrist. He'd done it to himself, of course, like he'd always had, but it hadn't been enough. It wasn't Rodney.
He stood still while Rodney threaded and wove the rope around him and around a large, metal ring. He could feel the cool metal against his spine, where it hung and sometimes slapped against his skin as Rodney moved around him, intent on criss-crossing his body with diamond shaped rope patterns and carefully placed layers of wrapped rope around his biceps, thighs, and chest.
John closed his eyes and swayed with the push and pull of Rodney and his rope. This, he decided, was better than the bandages had been. Rodney's fingers shifted along his body, testing and moving the rope around. The fingers soothed his skin in their wake, smoothed the rope against his skin. That floating state, the half asleep, half awake state, settled into his body with an easy lassitude. At least until he felt a sharp sting on his left buttock.
Rodney has slapped his butt. Spanked him with a flat hand. John's eyes popped open and he sucked in a breath. It hadn't hurt, but it was shocking.
"Stay alert, John. You can float off when I'm done."
Stay alert? He tried. He listened carefully to Rodney's movements, tried to figure out the intricate patterns Rodney was weaving, but the push-pull-sway with Rodney's fingers and the rope collecting him settled back in and dragged him toward the floating. So Rodney slapped him on the butt again.
"Don't make me do that. You have to stay alert until I'm done."
In the end, it took one more stinging slap to his butt before Rodney was satisfied with is weaving.
"Excellent work, if I do say so myself," Rodney said, standing in front of him and surveying the rope with a smirk.
John blinked at him, unable to say a thing. He was fighting to keep his eyes open, to stay away from the siren call of the floating.
He focused on the ropes as Rodney checked them over again. They were wrapped around his biceps and chest, row after row. He could move his biceps away from his ribs, but only a fraction of an inch. The give was a little loose for his tastes, but the amount of rope winding around him made him feel snugged in. There was a similar winding around his thighs, which held them together, and around his hips. His wrists had a few coils of rope, which were bound to his thighs. He could not move his hands away from his legs. his waist and the rest of his chest had tight webbing holding him in.
Rodney moved around behind him where a few metal clicks sounded around his back. "Don't move. Not so much as twitch. This isn't dangerous, but I want it to be smooth, with as little as motion as possible."
John found that he could nod.
"Talk, John."
John swallowed. "Yes."
Rodney pulled a drape away from the wall next to the open balcony doors. There was a handle for a winch? John watched him crank the handle, listened to the click of gears, and then felt himself lift from the floor. His eyes widened and he nearly flailed around. He held his head stiffly, wondering if he should make Rodney put him down. His body went up further, tilted until he was suspended flat, face down, with half of his body over the balcony and the other half in Rodney's quarters.
The wind ruffled through his hair and across his naked skin. He blinked again, holding perfectly still. He could see the ocean. The balcony didn't extend far, so if he lifted his chin a bit, he could see nothing but ocean several stories down. With the view and the feel of the wind....
"I'm flying," John said.
Rodney loomed in his vision, smiling and very pleased with himself. "Yes. That was the intent. You have no idea how difficult it was to---nevermind. One more thing and you can go wherever it is that you go that makes you so, so whatever."
John smiled. "I'm flying."
Rodney patted his cheek, and then pulled a wide piece of cloth down to wrap around his forehead. "There. You'll be able to rest your neck just by lowering your head down on plane with the rest of your body. Don't worry, it's hooked to a breakaway clip. Should my engineering fail for some completely unforeseeable and unimaginable reason, you won't break your neck."
"Rodney," he said through the floating feeling, "I'm flying."
"I know. I made this just for you to fly."
The floating feeling was overwhelming him, connecting him completely to Rodney, now. "C'mere," he said.
Rodney furrowed his brow and took a step closer.
"Closer."
Rodney took another step, and then another when asked, until he was breathing the same air as John. John tilted his head, please that he could do so freely, and pushed his chin forward. He tasted Rodney's crooked lips for the first time. He felt the surprise. He opened his mouth and pressed forward with his tongue. Rodney sucked in a breath, stiff as John used to be before Rodney came along and connected with him, before he abruptly relaxed, opened his mouth, and let John in, too. John could stay that way forever, connected to Rodney by rope, flight, and mouth.
Rodney cupped John's cheeks and stepped back. "You fly," Rodney whispered. "We'll talk about this," Rodney's thumbs traced John's lips, "after." Rodney pressed a kiss to John's lips. "I'll stand watch so you can fly."
John smiled, eyes drifting closed. Rodney moved back into the room, but John didn't pay much attention. Instead, he let the floating feeling from the ropes and his connection to Rodney launch him into the sky.
The End