Fic: So True a Fool Is Love (No Precious Time Series, 2/28)
Title: So True a Fool Is Love (No Precious Time Series, 2/28)
Author: The Time Being/SGAtlantisLight
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Genre: Smutty angst, H/C
Rating: NC-17 overall, though some chapters are lower
Author's Notes: Part of the No Precious Time Series. Beta and encouragement from a lot of people, but especially lapislaz, mice1900, and inkscribe.
Warnings can be found here for those who can't read without them. These contain plot spoilers so do not read unless you can't live without knowing.
Disclaimer: I own them all! But, alas, not in this universe.
Previous chapter
"We say that slavery has vanished from European civilization, but this is not true. Slavery still exists, but now it applies only to women and its name is prostitution." - Victor Hugo
Carson walked into the ward where the freed slaves were being housed, separate from the rest of the infirmary, and looked around, peering into beds. He jumped when someone palmed his ass. "Jastain! Ye can't be doing that, lad."
"Don't you like it?" The ex-slave gave him a hopeful smile.
"I'm not a customer, son. I'm not here looking for sex."
Jastain's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "Why not?"
Carson sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I was looking for Colonel Sheppard."
Jastain gave him a blank look.
"John?"
"Oh! He's with Amaro and Ri in one of the private rooms."
"Ah. I see. I'll just come back--"
"They're probably almost done. Let me see," Jastain volunteered.
Before Carson could stop him, he skipped to one of the doors and flung it open, leaving it wide as he peered inside. The light fell on John in profile on all fours, someone in front, hands buried in his hair, pumping slowly into his mouth, while another someone knelt behind, pushing into him in a desperate rhythm. Carson froze, unable to turn away as John shuddered, a glob of semen flying to the floor beneath him.
"Yeah, just about done," Jastain said, turning and shutting the door.
Carson snapped his attention away from the door and licked suddenly-dry lips. "I'll come back. Ask him to, erm, wait for me, would you?"
Jastain's eyes slid down Carson's body. "Or you could wait here and I could take care of that..."
Carson turned and fled.
***
Carson sat down in his office, still shaking from the effects of what he'd seen. He clicked on his radio. "Beckett to McKay."
"McKay here," Rodney answered. "What'd you need, Carson?"
"Are you busy right now?"
"I'm always busy. Why?"
Carson paused, suddenly realising how his request was going to sound. How exactly did one say, "I just caught a glimpse of a friend of ours having sex and it turned me on and you need to take care of me"?
"Carson?"
"Never mind, love. We'll talk about it later."
He turned to his laptop, trying to get his mind off what he'd seen. There was a lot of data to enter on their new patients and a lot that still needed to be gathered. He opened up the file on one of the two women that had positive pregnancy results. He sighed and shook his head. He had no idea what the effects of the cocktail of drugs she'd been on, the virus, and then withdrawal and whatever cure he could come up with would have on the pregnancy, but it was likely to be devastating.
"Damned slavers," he muttered. Because he knew so little of what options he could offer, he had yet to discuss the situation with the two women-- hardly more than girls, really, which made it all the more difficult.
He laid his head in his hands and closed his eyes, desperately wishing he could wake up and discover this was all some horrible nightmare. A warm hand landed on his shoulder, starting him awake. He looked up into his lover's concerned eyes.
"Carson? What did you need?"
He reached up and closed his hand over Rodney's. "I just needed you here for a wee bit. It's all so..." He sighed. "How can it all be so arousing and so... horrible at the same time?"
Rodney pulled Carson up and wrapped his arms around him. Carson melted against him, taking comfort in his heat and familiar scent. "They are pretty distracting, aren't they?"
Carson shivered. "You have no idea."
***
When Carson arrived back in the special ward, it was to find Sheppard curled into a miserable ball on one of the beds. "Are you all right, Colonel?"
Sheppard peeked out from between fingers. "Are you talking to me?"
"Yes, Colonel."
"Why do you call me that?"
Carson blinked. "It's... well, it's your title."
"Title?"
"What did you think it was?"
John gave a small shrug. "Some sort of nickname."
Carson settled into the chair next to his bed, looking around warily, but everyone seemed to be occupied at the moment. "What did they call you in the brothel?"
"Just John. Or sometimes 'the shepherd' because I took care of everyone else. They seemed to think it was funny."
Carson's hands curled into fists and he shook his head. "How are you feeling, John?"
"My head hurts. I thought it was just the usual, but it didn't go away."
"Where exactly does it hurt?"
"Just on the left side," John answered. "I'm feeling a little queasy, too."
"All right. I want to look at your eyes. Can you roll over onto your back for me?"
"Any way you want me, sweets," John answered, almost automatically.
Carson shook his head, torn between laughing and crying at the response. "I'm just interested in your eyes, Colonel."
"Kinky," John said, grinning, even though it was strained, and sprawling out seductively on his back.
Carson focused on his face, ignoring the wanton pose as he stood and leaned over. There was a lingering scent of sex and sweat and something else-- wild and seductive. Had that something else always been there? "Close your left eye, Colonel."
John did as asked, flinching when the light hit.
"Sorry. Other eye now."
As Carson pocketed the small penlight, John opened both eyes and looked up into his face, a sudden flash of confusion, fear, hope, wariness, and then it was gone again. John gave him a tentative smile, fingers brushing along one of Carson's arms. "Are you sure you weren't a customer?"
"No, John, I was never a customer." He pulled his arm away.
John shut his eyes. "Bet it would be good."
"I'm taken, Colonel. And I would never take advantage, even if I weren't."
John's eyes popped open, his forehead creasing in confusion. "But we need it, so how is it taking advantage?"
"You can take care of each other. You don't need us."
"It would be better with you. The pain comes back too soon when it's just us."
Carson settled back into the chair. "I don't understand. It shouldn't make any difference."
"Does. The slow days were always bad."
Carson considered. "Maybe there's something here I'm not understanding. Can you explain to me what it was like?"
"What?"
"I don't know precisely. Just tell me what a day at the brothel was like."
John shrugged. "You wake up in the morning and there's a bit of food and the special tea."
"Tea?"
John nodded. "Only for us. Not for the owner or the customers."
"I see. Go on."
"If you were lucky, there was an early customer to take the edge off. If not, we took care of each other."
"And why was it lucky for it to be a customer?"
"You didn't start feeling crappy as soon. A good customer could leave you almost pain-free for a few hours. With each other? Maybe two hours. Some of us tolerate the pain better than others. Prio's really bad... Marna... Veza."
"And this was a pattern throughout the day?"
"Yeah. And then at night, you'd hopefully been pretty well-fucked and you could sleep for quite a while before the pain would wake you up."
Carson nodded grimly. "Thank you, Colonel. If you'll excuse me, I'll go get something for that headache."
***
Carson held Rodney close, chest pressed to Rodney's back, and pumped into Rodney's willing body. "Ah, love," he murmured, slowly stroking Rodney's cock, warm and hard and right in his hand. He closed his eyes and breathed in Rodney's scent-- musky with arousal. His mouth found the nape of his lover's neck and kissed and licked it, tasting across his shoulder.
Rodney moaned and pressed back against him. "Going to come soon."
Carson's fingers tightened around his cock, stroking faster, but never too fast, feeling the pressure building within himself as well. "Come for me, love."
Rodney's breath stuttered. "Love you, ah! Love you, Carson." He let out a long groan and his cock pulsed in Carson's hand, hot semen spurting over Carson's fingers.
Carson gasped as Rodney's body spasmed around him, pushing in deep, biting down on Rodney's shoulder.
John in profile on all fours, someone in front, hands buried in his hair, pumping slowly into his mouth.
Carson's balls drew up, fire in his belly.
"Feed me your cock and let me swallow you down. You know you want to..."
No, he didn't want this. He didn't want to think about this.
Prio reached out almost blindly and yanked John into his bed, their lips meeting in desperate kisses, bodies already moving against each other. The two men gasping as one, faces frozen in pleasure
John's name was in his mouth and he bit down hard to hold it in.
"God, I need you, Carson. Please, fuck me... fuck my ass."
There was blood in his mouth, someone yowling in pain.
Someone knelt behind John, pushing into him in a desperate rhythm. John shuddered, a glob of semen flying to the floor beneath him.
He groaned as the heat pulsed out of him and into the welcoming body under him, overwhelmed with pleasure and release and heat, the scent of blood and sweat and semen in his nostrils.
"Ow! Dammit, ow! Carson! My shoulder!"
He came back to himself, Rodney's blood in his mouth, back against him, soft cock in his hand, semen slicking his fingers, Rodney's body around his slowly-softening cock.
"Oh, God! Sorry!" he gasped and rolled off, covering his eyes with his hand. "I'm so sorry."
"What the fuck? You bit me!"
Carson bit his lip, his cheeks aflame. He'd just had one of the biggest orgasms of his life, and it had been John's image in his mind, John's name on his tongue.
"Carson?" He could hear Rodney moving, feel his attention shifting. "What's wrong?"
"I love you, Rodney. I do. I'm sorry."
"What? What's going on?" He could feel Rodney stiffen. "You're not...? This isn't...? You didn't...? Carson! You didn't, did you?"
He looked between his fingers. "Didn't what?"
Rodney gestured helplessly in the direction of their apartment door. "The slaves. You didn't... with one of them?"
He sat up in shock, eyes wide. "God, no! Why would you think that?"
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you're acting guilty as hell and have been for the past couple of days. What the hell is going on?"
Carson ducked his head. "I've just... seen a lot."
"And?"
Carson swallowed hard. "Sometimes, the images, erm, pop into my head."
There was a moment of silence, then Rodney chuckled. "You perverted little... You were thinking of someone else!"
"I didn't mean to, honestly. Rodney, I'm sorry."
"But you haven't...?"
"No! I would never do that to you. I love you." Carson looked up and met Rodney's eyes. "And I could never do that to them, either. What's happening with them is horrible, and it shouldn't..."
"But it turns you on."
Carson looked away. "I'm sorry."
Rodney lay back onto the bed. The silence stretched between them. Carson didn't know what else to say, how to make this right. Fear settled into his gut. Rodney shifted and made a pained sound.
"I should take care of that. I'm sorry."
"Damned right you should. I'll probably need antibiotics. You know human bites are the most dangerous bite you can get? People die all the time."
Carson slid from the bed and padded to the bathroom, letting Rodney rant. He washed his hands and grabbed the first aid kit. When he returned, Rodney had fallen silent. "Let me see."
Rodney sat up and turned. Carson examined it carefully and then began cleaning it.
"Carson?"
"Yes?"
"You're supposed to tell me I'm being silly to worry about the bite wound."
"I'm sorry."
"Would you stop saying you're sorry already!"
"Sor--" Carson stopped himself. He began applying antibiotic ointment.
Silence again. He pulled open a gauze pad and covered the wound. "Is it Sheppard?"
Carson's hands froze. "What?"
"What you're seeing? Is it him, or someone else, or all of them?"
His heart pounded as he applied tape to hold the gauze in place. "It's mostly the Colonel. I'm..."
Rodney turned and looked into his eyes. "I thought you two might be together, you know, before us."
Carson shook his head and smiled. "I thought you two were together."
Rodney blinked. "Really?"
Carson nodded. "I finally asked him. I... needed to know." He gave Rodney a sheepish grin. "He told me he thought we were together and that we were both idiots if we were letting him stand in the way."
"He's probably right."
"What?" Carson's asked, confused.
"We're idiots if we let him stand in the way."
"You mean you...? You're not...?"
"Mad at you? Yeah, I am, a little, but honestly, Carson, we're guys. Fruit can turn us on."
Carson chuckled. "Only you get turned on by fruit, love."
"Only those little pink berries from P4X-373." He leaned forward and kissed Carson, who relaxed into his touch. He drew back and looked into Carson's face. "If it gets to be too much, call me? I'd rather give you a blowjob in the middle of the day than have you all worked up and guilty at night when you get home. Besides, then I know you're not going to give in to them."
"Mmm!" Carson grinned. "Having you on your knees in my office... Oh, aye, that image could do a lot for my willpower."
***
Carson hesitated outside the door, turning to Elizabeth. "You might want to wait here."
Rodney and Radek had set up a screen and DVD projector in a room off the slave ward and stocked it with movies from Sheppard's personal collection and others he'd mentioned, very heavy on the humour value. Carson appreciated the sentiment and the distraction it provided his patients. He'd noted it seemed to have a positive impact on their pain management, which made sense-- laughter produced its own endorphins.
The problem was, the ex-slaves had decided it counted as a private space, since it wasn't their main ward, and had been recalcitrant of changing their ways. Carson cracked open the door as little as possible and slipped through, shutting it quickly. His eyes flicked to the screen where he saw Back to the Future was playing once again. He shook his head remembering the fight Rodney and Radek had had over the movie.
"The science is utter crap!" Rodney had said.
"But he likes it," Radek had argued.
Rodney had sighed and added the disc to the collection. "But don't blame me if he's... damaged somehow when he gets his memory back."
Carson tried to keep his eyes on faces, though even that could be arousing when the faces in question were wearing expressions of intense pleasure. Others pained him to see, their misery evident. Even with a battery of drugs at his disposal to ease withdrawal symptoms, all the ex-slaves were suffering-- headaches, nausea, vomiting, insomnia, blurred vision, dizziness, loss of appetite, and even worse things, such as cataplexy, heart palpitations, and seizure-like electric shock sensations.
Carson found John's face in the crowd, a slight smile gracing his lips, and looked down to see John's hands slowly caressing the face and hair of the person whose head was in his lap. Carson thought it was Amaro, but it might have been Ri. They were close to a matched set, though unrelated, and hard to tell apart in the dark of the room-- stocky, broad-shouldered, and blue-eyed. John turned and kissed a woman sitting next to him, then slid one hand down into Amaro's shirt.
Carson noted one of the woman's hands was slowly stroking Amaro's erection through his pyjama pants, the other hand disappearing behind Amaro's head against John's crotch. Carson hesitated. The ex-slaves engaged in a lot of idle sex-play and didn't seem to object to being interrupted, but he found it hard to do.
The woman, Veza he thought once he could see her better, leaned over and whispered into John's ear. He turned and smiled at Carson. "Hey, sweetpants, did you want me?"
"The name is Doctor Beckett, or Carson, Colonel. And Doctor Weir was wishing to speak to you."
"Oh." John stretched, fingers tightening in Amaro's hair. The other man slid off, revealing Veza's hand disappearing into John's pants. John leaned over and kissed her, then pulled her hand away, while Amaro sat up and gave him a kiss as well. "Be right back."
As he stood, John paled and stumbled. Carson reached out and caught him. "Are you all right?"
John swallowed. "Just a bit light-headed."
"Just stand and get your bearings a moment. Lean on me if you need to."
John looked at him, blinking, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. "Carson?"
"Colonel Sheppard?" Carson let go, turning the ex-slave's face toward him. "John?"
John's eyes rolled up in his head and Carson barely caught him before he hit the floor.
Next chapter
Author: The Time Being/SGAtlantisLight
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Genre: Smutty angst, H/C
Rating: NC-17 overall, though some chapters are lower
Author's Notes: Part of the No Precious Time Series. Beta and encouragement from a lot of people, but especially lapislaz, mice1900, and inkscribe.
Warnings can be found here for those who can't read without them. These contain plot spoilers so do not read unless you can't live without knowing.
Disclaimer: I own them all! But, alas, not in this universe.
Previous chapter
"We say that slavery has vanished from European civilization, but this is not true. Slavery still exists, but now it applies only to women and its name is prostitution." - Victor Hugo
Carson walked into the ward where the freed slaves were being housed, separate from the rest of the infirmary, and looked around, peering into beds. He jumped when someone palmed his ass. "Jastain! Ye can't be doing that, lad."
"Don't you like it?" The ex-slave gave him a hopeful smile.
"I'm not a customer, son. I'm not here looking for sex."
Jastain's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "Why not?"
Carson sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I was looking for Colonel Sheppard."
Jastain gave him a blank look.
"John?"
"Oh! He's with Amaro and Ri in one of the private rooms."
"Ah. I see. I'll just come back--"
"They're probably almost done. Let me see," Jastain volunteered.
Before Carson could stop him, he skipped to one of the doors and flung it open, leaving it wide as he peered inside. The light fell on John in profile on all fours, someone in front, hands buried in his hair, pumping slowly into his mouth, while another someone knelt behind, pushing into him in a desperate rhythm. Carson froze, unable to turn away as John shuddered, a glob of semen flying to the floor beneath him.
"Yeah, just about done," Jastain said, turning and shutting the door.
Carson snapped his attention away from the door and licked suddenly-dry lips. "I'll come back. Ask him to, erm, wait for me, would you?"
Jastain's eyes slid down Carson's body. "Or you could wait here and I could take care of that..."
Carson turned and fled.
***
Carson sat down in his office, still shaking from the effects of what he'd seen. He clicked on his radio. "Beckett to McKay."
"McKay here," Rodney answered. "What'd you need, Carson?"
"Are you busy right now?"
"I'm always busy. Why?"
Carson paused, suddenly realising how his request was going to sound. How exactly did one say, "I just caught a glimpse of a friend of ours having sex and it turned me on and you need to take care of me"?
"Carson?"
"Never mind, love. We'll talk about it later."
He turned to his laptop, trying to get his mind off what he'd seen. There was a lot of data to enter on their new patients and a lot that still needed to be gathered. He opened up the file on one of the two women that had positive pregnancy results. He sighed and shook his head. He had no idea what the effects of the cocktail of drugs she'd been on, the virus, and then withdrawal and whatever cure he could come up with would have on the pregnancy, but it was likely to be devastating.
"Damned slavers," he muttered. Because he knew so little of what options he could offer, he had yet to discuss the situation with the two women-- hardly more than girls, really, which made it all the more difficult.
He laid his head in his hands and closed his eyes, desperately wishing he could wake up and discover this was all some horrible nightmare. A warm hand landed on his shoulder, starting him awake. He looked up into his lover's concerned eyes.
"Carson? What did you need?"
He reached up and closed his hand over Rodney's. "I just needed you here for a wee bit. It's all so..." He sighed. "How can it all be so arousing and so... horrible at the same time?"
Rodney pulled Carson up and wrapped his arms around him. Carson melted against him, taking comfort in his heat and familiar scent. "They are pretty distracting, aren't they?"
Carson shivered. "You have no idea."
***
When Carson arrived back in the special ward, it was to find Sheppard curled into a miserable ball on one of the beds. "Are you all right, Colonel?"
Sheppard peeked out from between fingers. "Are you talking to me?"
"Yes, Colonel."
"Why do you call me that?"
Carson blinked. "It's... well, it's your title."
"Title?"
"What did you think it was?"
John gave a small shrug. "Some sort of nickname."
Carson settled into the chair next to his bed, looking around warily, but everyone seemed to be occupied at the moment. "What did they call you in the brothel?"
"Just John. Or sometimes 'the shepherd' because I took care of everyone else. They seemed to think it was funny."
Carson's hands curled into fists and he shook his head. "How are you feeling, John?"
"My head hurts. I thought it was just the usual, but it didn't go away."
"Where exactly does it hurt?"
"Just on the left side," John answered. "I'm feeling a little queasy, too."
"All right. I want to look at your eyes. Can you roll over onto your back for me?"
"Any way you want me, sweets," John answered, almost automatically.
Carson shook his head, torn between laughing and crying at the response. "I'm just interested in your eyes, Colonel."
"Kinky," John said, grinning, even though it was strained, and sprawling out seductively on his back.
Carson focused on his face, ignoring the wanton pose as he stood and leaned over. There was a lingering scent of sex and sweat and something else-- wild and seductive. Had that something else always been there? "Close your left eye, Colonel."
John did as asked, flinching when the light hit.
"Sorry. Other eye now."
As Carson pocketed the small penlight, John opened both eyes and looked up into his face, a sudden flash of confusion, fear, hope, wariness, and then it was gone again. John gave him a tentative smile, fingers brushing along one of Carson's arms. "Are you sure you weren't a customer?"
"No, John, I was never a customer." He pulled his arm away.
John shut his eyes. "Bet it would be good."
"I'm taken, Colonel. And I would never take advantage, even if I weren't."
John's eyes popped open, his forehead creasing in confusion. "But we need it, so how is it taking advantage?"
"You can take care of each other. You don't need us."
"It would be better with you. The pain comes back too soon when it's just us."
Carson settled back into the chair. "I don't understand. It shouldn't make any difference."
"Does. The slow days were always bad."
Carson considered. "Maybe there's something here I'm not understanding. Can you explain to me what it was like?"
"What?"
"I don't know precisely. Just tell me what a day at the brothel was like."
John shrugged. "You wake up in the morning and there's a bit of food and the special tea."
"Tea?"
John nodded. "Only for us. Not for the owner or the customers."
"I see. Go on."
"If you were lucky, there was an early customer to take the edge off. If not, we took care of each other."
"And why was it lucky for it to be a customer?"
"You didn't start feeling crappy as soon. A good customer could leave you almost pain-free for a few hours. With each other? Maybe two hours. Some of us tolerate the pain better than others. Prio's really bad... Marna... Veza."
"And this was a pattern throughout the day?"
"Yeah. And then at night, you'd hopefully been pretty well-fucked and you could sleep for quite a while before the pain would wake you up."
Carson nodded grimly. "Thank you, Colonel. If you'll excuse me, I'll go get something for that headache."
***
Carson held Rodney close, chest pressed to Rodney's back, and pumped into Rodney's willing body. "Ah, love," he murmured, slowly stroking Rodney's cock, warm and hard and right in his hand. He closed his eyes and breathed in Rodney's scent-- musky with arousal. His mouth found the nape of his lover's neck and kissed and licked it, tasting across his shoulder.
Rodney moaned and pressed back against him. "Going to come soon."
Carson's fingers tightened around his cock, stroking faster, but never too fast, feeling the pressure building within himself as well. "Come for me, love."
Rodney's breath stuttered. "Love you, ah! Love you, Carson." He let out a long groan and his cock pulsed in Carson's hand, hot semen spurting over Carson's fingers.
Carson gasped as Rodney's body spasmed around him, pushing in deep, biting down on Rodney's shoulder.
John in profile on all fours, someone in front, hands buried in his hair, pumping slowly into his mouth.
Carson's balls drew up, fire in his belly.
"Feed me your cock and let me swallow you down. You know you want to..."
No, he didn't want this. He didn't want to think about this.
Prio reached out almost blindly and yanked John into his bed, their lips meeting in desperate kisses, bodies already moving against each other. The two men gasping as one, faces frozen in pleasure
John's name was in his mouth and he bit down hard to hold it in.
"God, I need you, Carson. Please, fuck me... fuck my ass."
There was blood in his mouth, someone yowling in pain.
Someone knelt behind John, pushing into him in a desperate rhythm. John shuddered, a glob of semen flying to the floor beneath him.
He groaned as the heat pulsed out of him and into the welcoming body under him, overwhelmed with pleasure and release and heat, the scent of blood and sweat and semen in his nostrils.
"Ow! Dammit, ow! Carson! My shoulder!"
He came back to himself, Rodney's blood in his mouth, back against him, soft cock in his hand, semen slicking his fingers, Rodney's body around his slowly-softening cock.
"Oh, God! Sorry!" he gasped and rolled off, covering his eyes with his hand. "I'm so sorry."
"What the fuck? You bit me!"
Carson bit his lip, his cheeks aflame. He'd just had one of the biggest orgasms of his life, and it had been John's image in his mind, John's name on his tongue.
"Carson?" He could hear Rodney moving, feel his attention shifting. "What's wrong?"
"I love you, Rodney. I do. I'm sorry."
"What? What's going on?" He could feel Rodney stiffen. "You're not...? This isn't...? You didn't...? Carson! You didn't, did you?"
He looked between his fingers. "Didn't what?"
Rodney gestured helplessly in the direction of their apartment door. "The slaves. You didn't... with one of them?"
He sat up in shock, eyes wide. "God, no! Why would you think that?"
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you're acting guilty as hell and have been for the past couple of days. What the hell is going on?"
Carson ducked his head. "I've just... seen a lot."
"And?"
Carson swallowed hard. "Sometimes, the images, erm, pop into my head."
There was a moment of silence, then Rodney chuckled. "You perverted little... You were thinking of someone else!"
"I didn't mean to, honestly. Rodney, I'm sorry."
"But you haven't...?"
"No! I would never do that to you. I love you." Carson looked up and met Rodney's eyes. "And I could never do that to them, either. What's happening with them is horrible, and it shouldn't..."
"But it turns you on."
Carson looked away. "I'm sorry."
Rodney lay back onto the bed. The silence stretched between them. Carson didn't know what else to say, how to make this right. Fear settled into his gut. Rodney shifted and made a pained sound.
"I should take care of that. I'm sorry."
"Damned right you should. I'll probably need antibiotics. You know human bites are the most dangerous bite you can get? People die all the time."
Carson slid from the bed and padded to the bathroom, letting Rodney rant. He washed his hands and grabbed the first aid kit. When he returned, Rodney had fallen silent. "Let me see."
Rodney sat up and turned. Carson examined it carefully and then began cleaning it.
"Carson?"
"Yes?"
"You're supposed to tell me I'm being silly to worry about the bite wound."
"I'm sorry."
"Would you stop saying you're sorry already!"
"Sor--" Carson stopped himself. He began applying antibiotic ointment.
Silence again. He pulled open a gauze pad and covered the wound. "Is it Sheppard?"
Carson's hands froze. "What?"
"What you're seeing? Is it him, or someone else, or all of them?"
His heart pounded as he applied tape to hold the gauze in place. "It's mostly the Colonel. I'm..."
Rodney turned and looked into his eyes. "I thought you two might be together, you know, before us."
Carson shook his head and smiled. "I thought you two were together."
Rodney blinked. "Really?"
Carson nodded. "I finally asked him. I... needed to know." He gave Rodney a sheepish grin. "He told me he thought we were together and that we were both idiots if we were letting him stand in the way."
"He's probably right."
"What?" Carson's asked, confused.
"We're idiots if we let him stand in the way."
"You mean you...? You're not...?"
"Mad at you? Yeah, I am, a little, but honestly, Carson, we're guys. Fruit can turn us on."
Carson chuckled. "Only you get turned on by fruit, love."
"Only those little pink berries from P4X-373." He leaned forward and kissed Carson, who relaxed into his touch. He drew back and looked into Carson's face. "If it gets to be too much, call me? I'd rather give you a blowjob in the middle of the day than have you all worked up and guilty at night when you get home. Besides, then I know you're not going to give in to them."
"Mmm!" Carson grinned. "Having you on your knees in my office... Oh, aye, that image could do a lot for my willpower."
***
Carson hesitated outside the door, turning to Elizabeth. "You might want to wait here."
Rodney and Radek had set up a screen and DVD projector in a room off the slave ward and stocked it with movies from Sheppard's personal collection and others he'd mentioned, very heavy on the humour value. Carson appreciated the sentiment and the distraction it provided his patients. He'd noted it seemed to have a positive impact on their pain management, which made sense-- laughter produced its own endorphins.
The problem was, the ex-slaves had decided it counted as a private space, since it wasn't their main ward, and had been recalcitrant of changing their ways. Carson cracked open the door as little as possible and slipped through, shutting it quickly. His eyes flicked to the screen where he saw Back to the Future was playing once again. He shook his head remembering the fight Rodney and Radek had had over the movie.
"The science is utter crap!" Rodney had said.
"But he likes it," Radek had argued.
Rodney had sighed and added the disc to the collection. "But don't blame me if he's... damaged somehow when he gets his memory back."
Carson tried to keep his eyes on faces, though even that could be arousing when the faces in question were wearing expressions of intense pleasure. Others pained him to see, their misery evident. Even with a battery of drugs at his disposal to ease withdrawal symptoms, all the ex-slaves were suffering-- headaches, nausea, vomiting, insomnia, blurred vision, dizziness, loss of appetite, and even worse things, such as cataplexy, heart palpitations, and seizure-like electric shock sensations.
Carson found John's face in the crowd, a slight smile gracing his lips, and looked down to see John's hands slowly caressing the face and hair of the person whose head was in his lap. Carson thought it was Amaro, but it might have been Ri. They were close to a matched set, though unrelated, and hard to tell apart in the dark of the room-- stocky, broad-shouldered, and blue-eyed. John turned and kissed a woman sitting next to him, then slid one hand down into Amaro's shirt.
Carson noted one of the woman's hands was slowly stroking Amaro's erection through his pyjama pants, the other hand disappearing behind Amaro's head against John's crotch. Carson hesitated. The ex-slaves engaged in a lot of idle sex-play and didn't seem to object to being interrupted, but he found it hard to do.
The woman, Veza he thought once he could see her better, leaned over and whispered into John's ear. He turned and smiled at Carson. "Hey, sweetpants, did you want me?"
"The name is Doctor Beckett, or Carson, Colonel. And Doctor Weir was wishing to speak to you."
"Oh." John stretched, fingers tightening in Amaro's hair. The other man slid off, revealing Veza's hand disappearing into John's pants. John leaned over and kissed her, then pulled her hand away, while Amaro sat up and gave him a kiss as well. "Be right back."
As he stood, John paled and stumbled. Carson reached out and caught him. "Are you all right?"
John swallowed. "Just a bit light-headed."
"Just stand and get your bearings a moment. Lean on me if you need to."
John looked at him, blinking, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. "Carson?"
"Colonel Sheppard?" Carson let go, turning the ex-slave's face toward him. "John?"
John's eyes rolled up in his head and Carson barely caught him before he hit the floor.
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