Fic: Solace (NC-17)
Title: Solace
Author: SGAtlantisLight
Characters: McKay, Sheppard, Beckett, Zelenka, mini!Jack, Corrigan, Kavanaugh
Relationships: McKay/Sheppard, Zelenka/Beckett
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Smut, more smut, a bit of angst, and did I mention smut?
Spoilers: None
Summary: Part 28 of the Broken Series
Disclaimer: The characters, the setting, etc. are NOT mine, even if I wish they were.
The first sensation was cold. He was so damned cold. If his gran was right about hell, he'd have to rethink the whole "hot as hell" concept because, damn!
Warm fingers stroked his face and he turned toward them, seeking that warmth.
"Hey," Jack O'Neill's voice said.
He opened his eyes, flinching at the light. The lights suddenly dimmed. He blinked, bringing the form of his lover into focus. "N-not hell, th-then," he whispered.
Jack looked at him in confusion. "What?"
"C-cold."
"Hang on a second." Jack stepped to the door of the recovery room and peeked out. Dr. Beckett was just stepping out of his office, saying goodnight to his staff. "Doc? Eric's awake."
Beckett paused, looking surprised. "Already? All right, I'll be right there, son."
Jack slipped back inside the room and sat next to Eric's bed. He couldn't resist touching the hair at Eric's temple, where a few white strands had appeared among the black.
Beckett stepped into the room and smiled at the patient, even though Jack could see the tiredness in his face. "How are you feeling, son?"
"Cold."
Beckett's eyes traveled to the temperature monitor and he once again looked surprised. "No wonder. Ye shouldn't even be conscious at that temperature, son." He stuck his head out the door. "Gen, we need some blankets for Dr. Corrigan, please."
"Right away, doctor," the nurse answered.
Beckett took Eric's wrist, checking the pulse, even though a monitor recorded it, the touch soothing. He nodded in satisfaction, patting Eric's arm, careful of the various tubes and wires. "Can you look at me, son? That's a lad." He studied the green-hazel eyes, then pulled a flashlight from his pocket and quickly flicked it into one eye, then the other. "Sorry," he said as Eric flinched. "I know it hurts, but it's only for a second."
The nurse entered with a pile of blankets. Beckett helped her lay three out over his patient, smoothing and tucking, rearranging wires and tubes. Jack noticed that the room felt warmer, too. He supposed the doctor had mentally adjusted it while checking Eric's vitals.
"All right. That should warm you up. Now, you need to get some sleep."
"What happened to my head?"
"Ye had a building fall on you."
Corrigan seemed to remember then. "The wraith... Did she...? Am I...?"
Beckett looked like he'd rather discuss this in the morning, but sighed and answered instead. "I need to run some tests to find out exactly what she did to you, but, yes, you've lost a wee bit."
"Define wee," Jack said, considering the white hairs at his lover's temples and the deepened laugh lines.
Beckett gave him a sour look. "Probably five to ten years."
"Oh, God!" Eric gasped.
The monitors all noted sudden increases in breathing, pulse, and blood pressure.
"Calm down, son. I know it sounds like a lot now, but it's not that bad, considering."
Eric shuddered, remembering. "Jennelle."
Beckett looked grim, then sighed. This wasn't going to wait. He pulled up a chair. "All right, lad. I didn't want to discuss this until I had a clearer picture of how much you'd aged, but I don't think this can wait. Let's go with the worst-case scenario and say she's aged you ten years. We're not clear exactly on how it all works. For instance, the appearance of grey hair has completely baffled us. But what we do understand is that most of the aging is the result of subcellular damage that occurs when they drain your life energy. But such damage is only part of what causes a lot of what we associate with aging. For instance, the wraith didn't add ten years of bad eating habits, so there's no more plaque on your arterial walls than there was this morning. So, even if she has aged you the full ten years in terms of cellular damage, you've not lost ten years of life. Do ye understand?"
Eric nodded. "Okay. I get that." But he still looked strained.
"Talk to me, son. What's the problem?"
The anthropologist was silent for a moment. Jack reached out and took his hand, watching his face with concern.
"Jack and I... we already have to put up with a bit of... shit over the age difference..."
Carson nodded. He'd once overheard someone refer to Corrigan as a pedophile. Jack O'Neill had the unfortunate distinction of being the youngest person on the Atlantis expedition and, added to his being the "nephew" of General O'Neill, he had to deal with being sort of the baby of Atlantis along with all the overprotectiveness that implied. In that one instance, Carson had given the accuser a piece of his mind, but had realised that it probably hadn't helped when he'd heard one of the man's companions commenting on "Goddammed fag recruitment."
"I'm not going anywhere," Jack reassured his lover.
"I know you wouldn't, but..."
Carson considered calling Heightmeyer, but he was here, they trusted him, and they were opening up now. Damn, this was going to be a long night...
***
A slight sound woke Radek up. He lay still, orienting himself. His apartment. His bed. No Carson.
"John," he heard Rodney whisper in the dark from the direction of the couch, "stop that."
"What? Radek's asleep," John answered. "I'm just making sure you're okay."
There was a slight hint of motion and the sound of a kiss. "You can do all the exploration you want when we get back to our own bedroom."
"God, you're a heartless bastard, Rodney." Despite the words, they were full of affection and accompanied by the susurration of cloth sliding on cloth.
"Nnng... John... please... Not the neck..." A wet, sucking sound. "Oh, God. Please, stop."
"Can't. I thought I'd lost you today. I need to hold you... feel you... taste you..."
Rodney let out a long, shuddering gasp and then suddenly yelped. "Ow!"
The sound of a body shifting, sitting up. Radek could almost make out their forms on the couch, outlined by starlight. "Ow?" John's voice asked.
"I have a bruise there, apparently."
"You didn't mention it to Carson."
"That's because I didn't feel it. Remember me saying my left leg was still numb?"
"Oh, yeah. Sorry."
There. He could see them now. Rodney relaxing back into John's arms. John's head bending forward. He couldn't see details, but could guess that John was kissing Rodney's neck or nibbling his ear.
"John, really, stop. Carson could walk in any minute and I really don't want to greet him with a hard-on or, worse yet, a wet spot on my pants."
"His damned fault for being late. He's a doctor. He's seen worse."
"We're supposed to be keeping an eye on Radek, not getting kinky on Carson's couch while his lover sleeps a few feet away."
John's hands were moving on Rodney's chest. "Could be worse. We could be getting kinky on his couch while Radek was awake a few feet away..."
"Let's not go there, please." Rodney's voice was suddenly tense. Radek could make out that Rodney's body seemed suddenly tense, too.
John stilled. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. It's just... Sorry."
"No. Rodney, don't apologise. Just tell me what I did."
Rodney was quiet for a moment, then said quietly, "Stephen. He used to get off on..." His voice died. "Sorry."
"Fuck!" John swore. "I'm sorry, babe. You know I'd never..."
"I know. Shhh. It's okay. It's not you."
Radek could see John pull Rodney closer. "I love you."
Rodney sighed, relaxing back against him. "Love you, too, John."
Just then the door slid open and the lights came up just slightly. Carson stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the brighter corridor lights for a moment, swaying slightly. Radek quickly closed his eyes.
"Sorry ye had to wait," Carson said, sounding exhausted. "Corrigan woke up from surgery much earlier than we expected and needed to talk."
"We figured it was something important," Rodney answered.
"Thank you for waiting. How is he?"
Radek decided he didn't want to hear them talking about him, so he feigned waking, rolling over and mumbling, "Carson?"
"We'll just go," John said. "Good night, you two."
Radek blinked his eyes open and nodded sleepily to the two.
Carson bid the two good night, then turned to the bed as the door slid shut behind him. He sat on the edge and rubbed Radek's back. "How are you feeling, love?"
"I'm not sick, you know," Radek answered.
"I know," his lover answered. "I just know what it feels like to lose patients, even if there's nothing I could do. It's devastating to lose one. I didn't want you to go through that alone."
Radek reached out and took his hand and held it as he rolled over, pulling Carson into the bed on top of him. "Thank you," he answered, then pulled his lover down for a kiss, taking comfort in the warmth of his lover's mouth, the desire that was there even now when Carson was exhausted, the solid weight of his body on him. As they broke apart to catch their breath, he said, "Can I make love to you tonight?"
Carson smiled. "Aye, love. Though I'm a wee bit tired, so I may not be terribly energetic."
"Is okay," he answered, taking hold of the hem of Carson's shirt and pulling it up, knuckles skimming the skin underneath. "Let me love you."
***
"Uhuh!" John said, grabbing Rodney's hand and returning it to the pillow above his head. "This is me showing you how much I love you. You get to just lay there and enjoy."
Rodney closed his eyes as John went back to covering his husband's body with kisses. Each kiss was a gentle touch of lips and the tip of his tongue, neither slow not quick. He paid no extra attention to especially sensitive or erogenous areas and no less attention to less sensitive areas, though he had only skimmed the dark purple bruise on Rodney's left leg. He returned to the point at which he'd been interrupted, kissing Rodney's balls. He covered them with light kisses and then followed, pressing lips up Rodney's hard shaft. His husband shuddered, but he didn't remain there, instead moving to the crease between leg and body and then slowly working his way down Rodney's right leg, simply relishing the warmth, feel, and taste of him.
When he finally had covered the sole of Rodney's right foot, he didn't follow the pattern he'd done with the left of lifting it and paying his respects to the back of the leg. Instead, he whispered, "Turn over, Rodney."
With a whimper, Rodney obeyed.
John resumed, starting with the back of the heel, then pressing his mouth to the soft skin of Rodney's ankle, and moving slowly upward. His husband moaned as he began kissing over his right ass cheek, but John soon moved up to the small of his back, working in toward the spine and then outward again on the right side. He covered the broad shoulder and then moved up the right side of the neck and into the hair, which smelled of Rodney's shampoo and conditioner, carefully avoiding the lump there. Rodney hadn't been lying when he said the wraith had apparently bumped his head on the floor. He moved to the left side and down the neck, visiting each inch of shoulder there and then slowly working down the muscular back, toned from months of field work. Rodney's ass was pleasantly soft under his mouth. As he reached the bottom curve, he followed it to the crevasse between cheeks and worked his way down carefully, pulling the cheeks apart to expose the puckered hole there.
As he kissed it, Rodney's whole body trembled. John had never done this before, always a bit disturbed by it, even when Rodney was fresh-showered like now. He was surprised at how turned on it made him to smell Rodney's musk there, to taste the tang of him, to see the effect it had on his lover.
He licked out again, then pushed against the puckered opening, and Rodney moaned. "Oh, God, John... please... don't stop..."
***
The toes on the foot that Carson had resting on Radek's shoulder began curling as his breath came in sharper and sharper gasps. Radek deepened his thrusts, pushing the leg toward his lover's chest to open him up further.
"Oh... sweet mother of God!" Carson exhaled, fingers clenching in Radek's hair, and then threw his head back, his face a mask of pleasure-pain as his semen coated both their stomachs.
Radek withdrew slowly, feeling the ring of muscle clenching around him and then thrust in hard and deep, surrendering, filling Carson's body with his fluid. He hung there until he was capable of noticing something other than the white heat of his climax, in this case, the fact that Carson's hand was so tight in his hair as to be painful. He reached up and gently untangled Carson's hand, then shakily shifted and lowered himself to the bed.
And suddenly he couldn't stop shaking.
Carson turned onto his side, concern etched on his face. "Love? What is it?"
"You almost died," Radek said.
Carson looked confused. "I'm fine, love. What do you mean?"
"You were last one I got out. One second... one second later and security protocol..." Radek let out a wordless cry and pulled his lover closer. "You would have been erased!"
"Shhh... I'm fine, love. You got me out... You saved me... All right? I'm here and I'm okay, thanks to you. Just remember that." Carson hugged Radek close, fighting back his own tears, his own trembling. He hadn't realised he was the last one out. The thought of how close he'd come to death shot an icy fear through him.
"What if I'm not so fast the next time?"
Carson kissed the corner of Radek's frowning mouth. "Hopefully, there won't be a next time. But, if there is, we'll just have to live our lives until then to the fullest so the time comes with no regrets."
It was all that any of them could do.
***
The kid in the infirmary had awoken with a scream and started crying. The nurse grimaced, trying to record all of Corrigan's vitals quickly. Damn, that wasn't right. She crossed out several notations and wrote in the proper numbers, then dashed out and into the main infirmary room, missing the sudden cessation of crying, and paused to take in the sight.
"Dr. Kavanaugh! What do you think you're doing?"
The scientist turned. "Shutting him up." He turned back to the boy, who was watching him with wide eyes. "You can keep it, okay? Just don't tell Dr. Zelenka."
"I'm not sure that's safe..."
Kavanaugh glared at her. "There are no small parts to come loose and no sharp edges. Nor is there lead, harsh or dangerous chemicals, or any exposed wiring. I'm not a complete idiot."
"Sorry," she said. "That's... very generous of you."
He sniffed. "He was giving me a headache. Nothing generous about it."
The scientist angled himself back into his bed and closed his eyes. Gen smiled at the little boy as he explored the toy puddle jumper and then considered the pale form of Dr. Kavanaugh and shrugged. She'd never understood why McKay had spent so much time here trying to bring the man out of his coma. Perhaps there really was something decent about him.
Kavanaugh's eyes popped open. "Do you mind?"
"What?"
"Go stare vacantly into space elsewhere."
Then again, probably not.
***
John held Rodney, arms wrapped around Rodney's waist as Rodney's were around his neck, rocking their joined bodies gently with just enough motion to keep him hard, not pushing toward orgasm, but simply enjoying the intimacy of holding him, kissing him, being inside him, so close he could feel each inhalation, could sense Rodney's heartbeat.
"We should stay like this forever," John said.
"Mm. Might make it a bit hard to work."
"You'd just have to set up your laptop behind me and type around me."
"Oh, of course. Silly me."
"Missions might be a problem though."
He could feel Rodney's smile against his cheek. "Well, we'll just have to send some other team." Rodney shifted slightly and sighed. "Sorry, John. I'm getting a bit sore."
John sighed. "Okay."
"I'm probably good for a bit if you need to--"
"I'm fine. Not sure I could anyway. You?"
"Definitely done for the night."
John kissed Rodney's neck. "Hey, Rodney?"
"Hm?"
"Let's not wait for the next case of 'Oh my God, you almost died!' to do this again."
"This 'this' or the whole night 'this'?"
"The whole night."
"Mental note: Spend hours and hours making love to John for no reason at all on a more regular basis. Check."
John chuckled. "I could probably live with that checklist. What else is on it?"
Rodney grinned at him. "It's a surprise."
"I thought you didn't like surprises."
"Depends on whether I'm the surprisee or the surpriser."
"I don't think those are real words," John said.
"They are now." Rodney sighed and pulled away from John, lying down beside him.
John scooted down to lay next to him. "We should get some sleep."
"Well, I intend to give myself the day off tomorrow and sleep in."
"As if!" John laughed. "You've got ten thousand years of Ancient data on the wraith. You'll be out of here in four hours or less."
"You know, sometimes you're too smart for your own good."
"I do believe that distinction goes to my husband."
Rodney rolled over, kissed him, and laid his head on John's shoulder, fingers playing in the dark chest hair. "I just hope it was worth it."
"Go to sleep, Rodney."
Rodney grunted and closed his eyes. As John felt his husband's body relax against him, he stared up at the ceiling and wondered what the worth of a Juarez or an Achebe or an Andrepont or a Zacharias, or even the shortened life of a Northrup or the loss of a few years for Corrigan was worth in terms of knowledge and hoped for something spectacular.
Author: SGAtlantisLight
Characters: McKay, Sheppard, Beckett, Zelenka, mini!Jack, Corrigan, Kavanaugh
Relationships: McKay/Sheppard, Zelenka/Beckett
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Smut, more smut, a bit of angst, and did I mention smut?
Spoilers: None
Summary: Part 28 of the Broken Series
Disclaimer: The characters, the setting, etc. are NOT mine, even if I wish they were.
The first sensation was cold. He was so damned cold. If his gran was right about hell, he'd have to rethink the whole "hot as hell" concept because, damn!
Warm fingers stroked his face and he turned toward them, seeking that warmth.
"Hey," Jack O'Neill's voice said.
He opened his eyes, flinching at the light. The lights suddenly dimmed. He blinked, bringing the form of his lover into focus. "N-not hell, th-then," he whispered.
Jack looked at him in confusion. "What?"
"C-cold."
"Hang on a second." Jack stepped to the door of the recovery room and peeked out. Dr. Beckett was just stepping out of his office, saying goodnight to his staff. "Doc? Eric's awake."
Beckett paused, looking surprised. "Already? All right, I'll be right there, son."
Jack slipped back inside the room and sat next to Eric's bed. He couldn't resist touching the hair at Eric's temple, where a few white strands had appeared among the black.
Beckett stepped into the room and smiled at the patient, even though Jack could see the tiredness in his face. "How are you feeling, son?"
"Cold."
Beckett's eyes traveled to the temperature monitor and he once again looked surprised. "No wonder. Ye shouldn't even be conscious at that temperature, son." He stuck his head out the door. "Gen, we need some blankets for Dr. Corrigan, please."
"Right away, doctor," the nurse answered.
Beckett took Eric's wrist, checking the pulse, even though a monitor recorded it, the touch soothing. He nodded in satisfaction, patting Eric's arm, careful of the various tubes and wires. "Can you look at me, son? That's a lad." He studied the green-hazel eyes, then pulled a flashlight from his pocket and quickly flicked it into one eye, then the other. "Sorry," he said as Eric flinched. "I know it hurts, but it's only for a second."
The nurse entered with a pile of blankets. Beckett helped her lay three out over his patient, smoothing and tucking, rearranging wires and tubes. Jack noticed that the room felt warmer, too. He supposed the doctor had mentally adjusted it while checking Eric's vitals.
"All right. That should warm you up. Now, you need to get some sleep."
"What happened to my head?"
"Ye had a building fall on you."
Corrigan seemed to remember then. "The wraith... Did she...? Am I...?"
Beckett looked like he'd rather discuss this in the morning, but sighed and answered instead. "I need to run some tests to find out exactly what she did to you, but, yes, you've lost a wee bit."
"Define wee," Jack said, considering the white hairs at his lover's temples and the deepened laugh lines.
Beckett gave him a sour look. "Probably five to ten years."
"Oh, God!" Eric gasped.
The monitors all noted sudden increases in breathing, pulse, and blood pressure.
"Calm down, son. I know it sounds like a lot now, but it's not that bad, considering."
Eric shuddered, remembering. "Jennelle."
Beckett looked grim, then sighed. This wasn't going to wait. He pulled up a chair. "All right, lad. I didn't want to discuss this until I had a clearer picture of how much you'd aged, but I don't think this can wait. Let's go with the worst-case scenario and say she's aged you ten years. We're not clear exactly on how it all works. For instance, the appearance of grey hair has completely baffled us. But what we do understand is that most of the aging is the result of subcellular damage that occurs when they drain your life energy. But such damage is only part of what causes a lot of what we associate with aging. For instance, the wraith didn't add ten years of bad eating habits, so there's no more plaque on your arterial walls than there was this morning. So, even if she has aged you the full ten years in terms of cellular damage, you've not lost ten years of life. Do ye understand?"
Eric nodded. "Okay. I get that." But he still looked strained.
"Talk to me, son. What's the problem?"
The anthropologist was silent for a moment. Jack reached out and took his hand, watching his face with concern.
"Jack and I... we already have to put up with a bit of... shit over the age difference..."
Carson nodded. He'd once overheard someone refer to Corrigan as a pedophile. Jack O'Neill had the unfortunate distinction of being the youngest person on the Atlantis expedition and, added to his being the "nephew" of General O'Neill, he had to deal with being sort of the baby of Atlantis along with all the overprotectiveness that implied. In that one instance, Carson had given the accuser a piece of his mind, but had realised that it probably hadn't helped when he'd heard one of the man's companions commenting on "Goddammed fag recruitment."
"I'm not going anywhere," Jack reassured his lover.
"I know you wouldn't, but..."
Carson considered calling Heightmeyer, but he was here, they trusted him, and they were opening up now. Damn, this was going to be a long night...
***
A slight sound woke Radek up. He lay still, orienting himself. His apartment. His bed. No Carson.
"John," he heard Rodney whisper in the dark from the direction of the couch, "stop that."
"What? Radek's asleep," John answered. "I'm just making sure you're okay."
There was a slight hint of motion and the sound of a kiss. "You can do all the exploration you want when we get back to our own bedroom."
"God, you're a heartless bastard, Rodney." Despite the words, they were full of affection and accompanied by the susurration of cloth sliding on cloth.
"Nnng... John... please... Not the neck..." A wet, sucking sound. "Oh, God. Please, stop."
"Can't. I thought I'd lost you today. I need to hold you... feel you... taste you..."
Rodney let out a long, shuddering gasp and then suddenly yelped. "Ow!"
The sound of a body shifting, sitting up. Radek could almost make out their forms on the couch, outlined by starlight. "Ow?" John's voice asked.
"I have a bruise there, apparently."
"You didn't mention it to Carson."
"That's because I didn't feel it. Remember me saying my left leg was still numb?"
"Oh, yeah. Sorry."
There. He could see them now. Rodney relaxing back into John's arms. John's head bending forward. He couldn't see details, but could guess that John was kissing Rodney's neck or nibbling his ear.
"John, really, stop. Carson could walk in any minute and I really don't want to greet him with a hard-on or, worse yet, a wet spot on my pants."
"His damned fault for being late. He's a doctor. He's seen worse."
"We're supposed to be keeping an eye on Radek, not getting kinky on Carson's couch while his lover sleeps a few feet away."
John's hands were moving on Rodney's chest. "Could be worse. We could be getting kinky on his couch while Radek was awake a few feet away..."
"Let's not go there, please." Rodney's voice was suddenly tense. Radek could make out that Rodney's body seemed suddenly tense, too.
John stilled. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. It's just... Sorry."
"No. Rodney, don't apologise. Just tell me what I did."
Rodney was quiet for a moment, then said quietly, "Stephen. He used to get off on..." His voice died. "Sorry."
"Fuck!" John swore. "I'm sorry, babe. You know I'd never..."
"I know. Shhh. It's okay. It's not you."
Radek could see John pull Rodney closer. "I love you."
Rodney sighed, relaxing back against him. "Love you, too, John."
Just then the door slid open and the lights came up just slightly. Carson stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the brighter corridor lights for a moment, swaying slightly. Radek quickly closed his eyes.
"Sorry ye had to wait," Carson said, sounding exhausted. "Corrigan woke up from surgery much earlier than we expected and needed to talk."
"We figured it was something important," Rodney answered.
"Thank you for waiting. How is he?"
Radek decided he didn't want to hear them talking about him, so he feigned waking, rolling over and mumbling, "Carson?"
"We'll just go," John said. "Good night, you two."
Radek blinked his eyes open and nodded sleepily to the two.
Carson bid the two good night, then turned to the bed as the door slid shut behind him. He sat on the edge and rubbed Radek's back. "How are you feeling, love?"
"I'm not sick, you know," Radek answered.
"I know," his lover answered. "I just know what it feels like to lose patients, even if there's nothing I could do. It's devastating to lose one. I didn't want you to go through that alone."
Radek reached out and took his hand and held it as he rolled over, pulling Carson into the bed on top of him. "Thank you," he answered, then pulled his lover down for a kiss, taking comfort in the warmth of his lover's mouth, the desire that was there even now when Carson was exhausted, the solid weight of his body on him. As they broke apart to catch their breath, he said, "Can I make love to you tonight?"
Carson smiled. "Aye, love. Though I'm a wee bit tired, so I may not be terribly energetic."
"Is okay," he answered, taking hold of the hem of Carson's shirt and pulling it up, knuckles skimming the skin underneath. "Let me love you."
***
"Uhuh!" John said, grabbing Rodney's hand and returning it to the pillow above his head. "This is me showing you how much I love you. You get to just lay there and enjoy."
Rodney closed his eyes as John went back to covering his husband's body with kisses. Each kiss was a gentle touch of lips and the tip of his tongue, neither slow not quick. He paid no extra attention to especially sensitive or erogenous areas and no less attention to less sensitive areas, though he had only skimmed the dark purple bruise on Rodney's left leg. He returned to the point at which he'd been interrupted, kissing Rodney's balls. He covered them with light kisses and then followed, pressing lips up Rodney's hard shaft. His husband shuddered, but he didn't remain there, instead moving to the crease between leg and body and then slowly working his way down Rodney's right leg, simply relishing the warmth, feel, and taste of him.
When he finally had covered the sole of Rodney's right foot, he didn't follow the pattern he'd done with the left of lifting it and paying his respects to the back of the leg. Instead, he whispered, "Turn over, Rodney."
With a whimper, Rodney obeyed.
John resumed, starting with the back of the heel, then pressing his mouth to the soft skin of Rodney's ankle, and moving slowly upward. His husband moaned as he began kissing over his right ass cheek, but John soon moved up to the small of his back, working in toward the spine and then outward again on the right side. He covered the broad shoulder and then moved up the right side of the neck and into the hair, which smelled of Rodney's shampoo and conditioner, carefully avoiding the lump there. Rodney hadn't been lying when he said the wraith had apparently bumped his head on the floor. He moved to the left side and down the neck, visiting each inch of shoulder there and then slowly working down the muscular back, toned from months of field work. Rodney's ass was pleasantly soft under his mouth. As he reached the bottom curve, he followed it to the crevasse between cheeks and worked his way down carefully, pulling the cheeks apart to expose the puckered hole there.
As he kissed it, Rodney's whole body trembled. John had never done this before, always a bit disturbed by it, even when Rodney was fresh-showered like now. He was surprised at how turned on it made him to smell Rodney's musk there, to taste the tang of him, to see the effect it had on his lover.
He licked out again, then pushed against the puckered opening, and Rodney moaned. "Oh, God, John... please... don't stop..."
***
The toes on the foot that Carson had resting on Radek's shoulder began curling as his breath came in sharper and sharper gasps. Radek deepened his thrusts, pushing the leg toward his lover's chest to open him up further.
"Oh... sweet mother of God!" Carson exhaled, fingers clenching in Radek's hair, and then threw his head back, his face a mask of pleasure-pain as his semen coated both their stomachs.
Radek withdrew slowly, feeling the ring of muscle clenching around him and then thrust in hard and deep, surrendering, filling Carson's body with his fluid. He hung there until he was capable of noticing something other than the white heat of his climax, in this case, the fact that Carson's hand was so tight in his hair as to be painful. He reached up and gently untangled Carson's hand, then shakily shifted and lowered himself to the bed.
And suddenly he couldn't stop shaking.
Carson turned onto his side, concern etched on his face. "Love? What is it?"
"You almost died," Radek said.
Carson looked confused. "I'm fine, love. What do you mean?"
"You were last one I got out. One second... one second later and security protocol..." Radek let out a wordless cry and pulled his lover closer. "You would have been erased!"
"Shhh... I'm fine, love. You got me out... You saved me... All right? I'm here and I'm okay, thanks to you. Just remember that." Carson hugged Radek close, fighting back his own tears, his own trembling. He hadn't realised he was the last one out. The thought of how close he'd come to death shot an icy fear through him.
"What if I'm not so fast the next time?"
Carson kissed the corner of Radek's frowning mouth. "Hopefully, there won't be a next time. But, if there is, we'll just have to live our lives until then to the fullest so the time comes with no regrets."
It was all that any of them could do.
***
The kid in the infirmary had awoken with a scream and started crying. The nurse grimaced, trying to record all of Corrigan's vitals quickly. Damn, that wasn't right. She crossed out several notations and wrote in the proper numbers, then dashed out and into the main infirmary room, missing the sudden cessation of crying, and paused to take in the sight.
"Dr. Kavanaugh! What do you think you're doing?"
The scientist turned. "Shutting him up." He turned back to the boy, who was watching him with wide eyes. "You can keep it, okay? Just don't tell Dr. Zelenka."
"I'm not sure that's safe..."
Kavanaugh glared at her. "There are no small parts to come loose and no sharp edges. Nor is there lead, harsh or dangerous chemicals, or any exposed wiring. I'm not a complete idiot."
"Sorry," she said. "That's... very generous of you."
He sniffed. "He was giving me a headache. Nothing generous about it."
The scientist angled himself back into his bed and closed his eyes. Gen smiled at the little boy as he explored the toy puddle jumper and then considered the pale form of Dr. Kavanaugh and shrugged. She'd never understood why McKay had spent so much time here trying to bring the man out of his coma. Perhaps there really was something decent about him.
Kavanaugh's eyes popped open. "Do you mind?"
"What?"
"Go stare vacantly into space elsewhere."
Then again, probably not.
***
John held Rodney, arms wrapped around Rodney's waist as Rodney's were around his neck, rocking their joined bodies gently with just enough motion to keep him hard, not pushing toward orgasm, but simply enjoying the intimacy of holding him, kissing him, being inside him, so close he could feel each inhalation, could sense Rodney's heartbeat.
"We should stay like this forever," John said.
"Mm. Might make it a bit hard to work."
"You'd just have to set up your laptop behind me and type around me."
"Oh, of course. Silly me."
"Missions might be a problem though."
He could feel Rodney's smile against his cheek. "Well, we'll just have to send some other team." Rodney shifted slightly and sighed. "Sorry, John. I'm getting a bit sore."
John sighed. "Okay."
"I'm probably good for a bit if you need to--"
"I'm fine. Not sure I could anyway. You?"
"Definitely done for the night."
John kissed Rodney's neck. "Hey, Rodney?"
"Hm?"
"Let's not wait for the next case of 'Oh my God, you almost died!' to do this again."
"This 'this' or the whole night 'this'?"
"The whole night."
"Mental note: Spend hours and hours making love to John for no reason at all on a more regular basis. Check."
John chuckled. "I could probably live with that checklist. What else is on it?"
Rodney grinned at him. "It's a surprise."
"I thought you didn't like surprises."
"Depends on whether I'm the surprisee or the surpriser."
"I don't think those are real words," John said.
"They are now." Rodney sighed and pulled away from John, lying down beside him.
John scooted down to lay next to him. "We should get some sleep."
"Well, I intend to give myself the day off tomorrow and sleep in."
"As if!" John laughed. "You've got ten thousand years of Ancient data on the wraith. You'll be out of here in four hours or less."
"You know, sometimes you're too smart for your own good."
"I do believe that distinction goes to my husband."
Rodney rolled over, kissed him, and laid his head on John's shoulder, fingers playing in the dark chest hair. "I just hope it was worth it."
"Go to sleep, Rodney."
Rodney grunted and closed his eyes. As John felt his husband's body relax against him, he stared up at the ceiling and wondered what the worth of a Juarez or an Achebe or an Andrepont or a Zacharias, or even the shortened life of a Northrup or the loss of a few years for Corrigan was worth in terms of knowledge and hoped for something spectacular.