Dream of Home, by Sugar (Must Be Dreaming challenge)
Title: Dream of Home
Author: Sugar
Rating: PG
Pairing: John/Rodney
Word count: 417
Summary: Years after leaving Atlantis, John still dreams of home.
A/N: Thanks to
kimberlyfdr for the beta.
"Take me home, Rodney."
He draws in a pained breath; tastes smoke and sea air and sweat.
Out on a far-flung pier; the central spire of the city rising behind him, looming, in a pool of tears and miles and years in the past. His arm stretches out forever, back and back and back in time, until his fingertips touch steel and the burning strips flesh from bone. He pulls back, a cool mouth suppressing the fire in his fingers, ice blue eyes quelling the burning in his soul.
Laughter; distinct chords ringing from his own lips and from the city beneath his feet. Rodney is laughing, too, wild and musical, around John’s burning fingers. The notes chase each other through the air and turn into drones; flaming piranha nibbling away the flesh of the city.
“Put it out. Make it stop.”
Atlantis is a tower of fire, raining flaming debris into the ocean; drowning, subsuming his entire world. He tastes the fire now, and the regret and the grief.
“It can’t protect itself from you. None of us can.” Words of ice and surrender, dripping from Rodney’s tongue, bleeding from between his lips and forming brutal glistening stalagmites where they fall.
His fingers are cold now, frigid; frost crawling up his arm, spreading across his chest. The fire reaches his brain, laughing while the city screams; while he screams.
“Take me home, Rodney.”
~~~
“Take me home, Rodney.” The words were slurred, sleep-thick and frightened. Rodney didn’t rouse, but John’s plea slipped into his sleep and he tightened his arm around John’s chest and pushed his hips against warm flesh.
Atlantis and her destruction were a decade behind them, but the dreams would probably never stop. At least both men were used to them by now; neither even woke anymore.
John shivered and Rodney mumbled into his neck, “I’m here, John, I'm here. I’ve got you.”
Like flipping a switch, John stilled and settled.
~~~
His hand, his wrist, his arm all disappear into Rodney’s mouth. His shoulder, his chest, his waist and cock and legs. And he sees and he knows and he quietly dreams.
Rodney has consumed him and the tower is once again whole. The city weeps softly in relief and John dreams. The smoke is his soul and the sea is Rodney and the sweat is Atlantis weeping for him, for all of them and for all the years and for home, and John dreams on.
- end -
Edit: For tech magic reasons I can't explain, the italicization in the story forced multiple lj-cuts. The first one's all you need; ignore the other two, thanks.
Author: Sugar
Rating: PG
Pairing: John/Rodney
Word count: 417
Summary: Years after leaving Atlantis, John still dreams of home.
A/N: Thanks to
kimberlyfdr for the beta.
"Take me home, Rodney."
He draws in a pained breath; tastes smoke and sea air and sweat.
Out on a far-flung pier; the central spire of the city rising behind him, looming, in a pool of tears and miles and years in the past. His arm stretches out forever, back and back and back in time, until his fingertips touch steel and the burning strips flesh from bone. He pulls back, a cool mouth suppressing the fire in his fingers, ice blue eyes quelling the burning in his soul.
Laughter; distinct chords ringing from his own lips and from the city beneath his feet. Rodney is laughing, too, wild and musical, around John’s burning fingers. The notes chase each other through the air and turn into drones; flaming piranha nibbling away the flesh of the city.
“Put it out. Make it stop.”
Atlantis is a tower of fire, raining flaming debris into the ocean; drowning, subsuming his entire world. He tastes the fire now, and the regret and the grief.
“It can’t protect itself from you. None of us can.” Words of ice and surrender, dripping from Rodney’s tongue, bleeding from between his lips and forming brutal glistening stalagmites where they fall.
His fingers are cold now, frigid; frost crawling up his arm, spreading across his chest. The fire reaches his brain, laughing while the city screams; while he screams.
“Take me home, Rodney.”
~~~
“Take me home, Rodney.” The words were slurred, sleep-thick and frightened. Rodney didn’t rouse, but John’s plea slipped into his sleep and he tightened his arm around John’s chest and pushed his hips against warm flesh.
Atlantis and her destruction were a decade behind them, but the dreams would probably never stop. At least both men were used to them by now; neither even woke anymore.
John shivered and Rodney mumbled into his neck, “I’m here, John, I'm here. I’ve got you.”
Like flipping a switch, John stilled and settled.
~~~
His hand, his wrist, his arm all disappear into Rodney’s mouth. His shoulder, his chest, his waist and cock and legs. And he sees and he knows and he quietly dreams.
Rodney has consumed him and the tower is once again whole. The city weeps softly in relief and John dreams. The smoke is his soul and the sea is Rodney and the sweat is Atlantis weeping for him, for all of them and for all the years and for home, and John dreams on.
- end -
Edit: For tech magic reasons I can't explain, the italicization in the story forced multiple lj-cuts. The first one's all you need; ignore the other two, thanks.