Decision
Title: Decision
Author:wilde_girl
Pairing:Rodney/John
Kink: corporal punishment
Rating: R
Summary: Rodney's angry. John explains.
Author's Notes: "Decision" is a sequel to "Mainland," where Rodney came upon Teyla switching John and fled back to Atlantis in despair. "Mainland" is here: http://community.livejournal.com/atlantiskink/38898.html#cutid1
Please feed the hungry author. Constructive crit welcomed. Thanks much for your comments so far.
Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowed.
Part One
24 hours later, Rodney was back in the puddle jumper, flying low over the mainland again.
Oh, it had taken a huge amount of will power to bring him back. He hadn't slept a wink in those 24 hours, and he'd gone through every conceivable emotion. Pain, intense pain. Seeing John with Teyla was just about unbearable. Fear. Maybe John wanted Teyla, not him. Never him. The stuff with him was just a joke, just John amusing himself, playing a bit of a game, when what the man really wanted was Teyla. It was Teyla who could really give him what he wanted.
Back on Atlantis, Rodney had bit his pillow so hard at this thought there was a hole in it now.
He'd cried. Heck, he never cried. But his pain at the idea that John had been merely toying with him for weeks had made his eyes water, no matter how hard he tried to stop it. His throat had hurt so much he'd had to shut down for awhile, stop thinking, just float.
Then came anger. Fuck, John! What the heck are you doing? Why are you lying to me? What is the deal, lying to me? Fuck, that hurts. And what's this, asking to be punished? Asking...fucking hell! to be switched? John must have asked; Rodney could not imagine that the scene he had witnessed could have been anything but consensual...or else he didn't know John Sheppard at all.
Maybe he didn't.
It was sometime after 3 a.m. The sheets were clammy now, twisted, grabbing at Rodney's skin, rough, unwelcoming. He had to get up and remake the bed. He had a shower. He drank some coffee.
These actions calmed him a bit. Though his chest felt like his insides had turned to stone, he fought against panic and self-disgust. Fought hard.
He left his room and silently walked the corridors until he stood on the balcony, looking over the quiet grey sea, gazing into the distance, imagining the mainland, imagining John right now.
Fucker.
Bastard.
Liar.
It began to rain, lightly. Rodney could have stayed there and been drenched, like some sad-sack character in a mushy chick-flick. Like Clint Eastwood at the end of "Bridges of Madison County," which Rodney had seen, eons ago, on some godawful blind date. Pathetic. Get a grip, Mr. Eastwood. Really. Don't shame us.
Rodney headed back inside, went to the cafeteria, had breakfast. Breathed deep, and calmed himself. Between mouthfuls of food that could have been sawdust for all he cared, he methodically planned his next move. Wrote a note for Elizabeth. I'm taking a couple of days off. Will turn off comm link. Need a break...R and R. Call me on emergency frequency if you need me...for anything. Otherwise, would appreciate two days off.
Rodney packed a few things, and then went to see Carson. "Carson, I need some ointment...the best you have...healing, antibiotic, antiseptic, pain relief. All in one. I'm going hiking...might get sunburned, bug bitten, scraped by trees in that godawful forest. You know me; I'm a complete wuss about pain."
Carson gave him a look. His intelligent eyes searched deep into Rodney's, but Rodney stared back, his jaw tight, his eyes quiet, revealing nothing.
Carson moved over to the supply cupboard and brought out a nondescript tube. "This is new. I've been working on it for surface injuries. You...test it for me. Let me know."
"Thanks, Carson," Rodney said, pocketing the tube, and walking out with measured steps. This was Rodney on a mission. No more hesitation, no more angst, no more fucking weakness.
***
Rodney's "John finder" and his increasingly adequate flying skills helped him pinpoint the right location. As before, he landed his jumper some distance away, shouldered his pack, and walked in. It gave him time to breathe deeply, to increase his sense of calm and purpose. Only the knots in his stomach could not be totally willed away.
On the edge of a clearing, he found the tent. Teyla sat outside, alone, cooking something over the fire, looking weary and tired.
Rodney strode over to stand in front of her. Her eyes widened in surprise, but she kept calm and still...he knew she was wondering how he'd found them, how he'd gotten so close without her sensing it.
"Teyla. Thanks for all you've done. I appreciate it. But I'd like to take over now, if it's all the same to you. I'll look after him."
Teyla's eyes were unfathomable...she stood stock still for a full three minutes. "It is my duty to stay, to wait with him," she said finally.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. A warrior's duty and responsibility and blah, blah, blah. Like I said, I appreciate it, but I'm here now. I'm the one who should be here. I won't leave him on his own, no matter how pissed off...." Rodney stopped, breathed deep.
Teyla sized him up with her dark eyes, then nodded. She gathered her things in a pile, and put them in her pack. "I'll go back to the camp," she said quietly. "Contact me if you need anything, anything at all."
Rodney nodded and watched her go, politeness just about gone now but holding his temper in check. Then he sat down and ate some of the stew, which was, of course, delicious.
He turned, finally, and went into the tent.
Part Two*********
John was lying on the low bed in the tent...it appeared to have been skillfully made out of large tree branches and bark lashed together, probably by that Princess of the Woods, Teyla. Soft blankets covered the bed, and on them lay John, naked, quiet, his head turned away from the door, his dark hair sticking up wildly all over his head, his back drawn tight, probably with pain. His back muscles, usually so relaxed and beautiful...
Rodney refused to go there, and instead forced himself to look at John's ass. His ass was striped with angry red lines, as were his thighs. Rodney refused to count them, refused, also, to look away, even though he wanted to. Would not let his own eyes close.
He must have exhaled too loudly, because John turned his head. His dull eyes widened at the sight of Rodney. "Rodney, what the fuck?" he rasped hoarsely.
Rodney moved quickly to the water pitcher next to the bed, poured some into a cup, and then saw that John could not get up to drink. He sat on the bed, dipped his fingers into the water, and put them near John's mouth. John eyed him warily, but then licked his fingers dry with his soft, warm tongue. Rodney suppressed a shiver...suppressed all emotion as he dipped his fingers in water again and again until the strained look on John's face eased a bit.
Finally, John sighed, and opened his lips to speak. "Look, Rodney..."
"No, you look, John. I saw everything that happened. I came to look for you, yesterday, to have it out with you, and I saw. I saw how hard she hit you. I saw you bend over for Teyla, give it all up for her, put yourself at her mercy, turn yourself over a tree trunk, bare your entire fucking body for her, put yourself under her lash. Her lash!"
John closed his eyes, wincing. "Rodney, I'm sorry. You weren't supposed to see."
"Oh, isn't that fucking great," Rodney said, exploding at last. "I wasn't supposed to see. Well, dandy. That makes it all make sense, of course. Hide it from Rodney. Don't let him know. Don't tell him that he's just a fuck-toy. Don't tell him that I'm waltzing off to put myself in the hands of the fucking warrior queen of Atlantis...that I have a secret desire to have the crap beat out of me by a gorgeous woman."
John opened his eyes, moved, winced. "It's not like that."
"Oh, isn't it? Well, then how is it, John? What was all the stuff you said to me, about how you owned me, I was yours, I belonged to you? That was a bunch of crap, or what?"
John,incredibly, smiled. "You are so you, Rodney McKay. That's why I love you...you are always...so you."
"Well, that's fucking great. You love me. That solves everything. Excuse me while I put on my "I'm a total sucker" face." Rodney was growling now, and, damn it to hell, his whole body was shaking.
John sighed. "Okay, listen, Rodney. Let me explain, okay?" He tried to pull himself on his elbow, and gasped, turning his head away, presumably so Rodney could not see pain ravage his face.
Rodney thought about the tube of healing ointment in his pocket, but he was just enough of a bastard not to want to use it just yet. "I'm here, John," he said, in a calmer voice. "I'm listening."
Part Three*********
"Rodney, you know you are very spec---"
"Oh, John," Rodney said impatiently, "cut the crap. Just get to the why, okay? I'm dying here. Just total honesty, okay? No waffling around. I don't think it's too much for me to ask, considering."
John winced. "Okay. Well, then I should tell you that this is the second time I've done something like this with Teyla. The first time was just a short thing; I...wanted to try out what a switch felt like. Wanted to know, so I could know if you might like it some day."
"Fuck!" Rodney said. "You are fucking kidding me, here."
"No. It's true. And I saw...no way would you want it...it's too harsh, and hurts too much. Took a long time to heal, too...or would have, without some magic healing potion from Carson...only four strokes, but they stung like crazy and itched like mad."
Rodney felt a little guilt about the healing cream thing, but said nothing, looking pointedly at John, waiting for him to continue, ignoring how obviously exhausted he was, how much he needed sleep.
"After that, I put it out of my mind. Or tried to. But...it wouldn't go away. Every night, I thought about it. Spanked you...fucked you...held you in my arms. The best time of my life. Only...in a little part of my mind, something was growing. A huge thought. It started small. I tried to squash it, fuck you harder, love you harder, close my eyes. But it was there."
This was just about inhumanly hard to listen to, but Rodney grit his teeth and said nothing. He would not, however, give John any reassurance, but sat on the edge of his bed with stony eyes.
John smiled ruefully. "Guilt. That's what it was, Rodney. Guilt. Starting small, growing larger every day. You made some remark one time...how it was I who..."
"You who what?"
"I who turned the Atlantis crew into ...wraithbait. That was the time I left, for two days, and went off-world."
Rodney started to protest, apologize for being such a jerk, but John shook his head, slightly. "No. I know you were joking. But it didn't matter. I saw myself...with the wraith queen. Over and over, killing her. And she...mocking me. Telling me...I'd woken the whole ship. They would come for us, for all of us, for Atlantis, for Earth. Because of me, of what I did."
Rodney had turned totally pale now, could not speak; he put his hand on John's shoulder.
"And then, I thought about how many times...how many fucking times!...I'd made decisions, stupid ones, rash ones, brave ones, heroic ones, whatever. How many times I'd sent people to their deaths."
Rodney sighed. "John, that's part of your job. You know you always try to make the right decision."
"I know. But it doesn't get any easier. Then...while thinking about all this, racked by this guilt, I did that scene with you, that schoolroom scene. I was with you, playing around, giving you a spanking for fun, pretending I was your teacher, and then, suddenly...something happened. You...were me. Me, reckless. Me, impetuous. Me, causing havoc, endangering entire planets with my stupidity. And I snapped. Spanked you so hard...could not even see you or hear you...whipped you with that ruler, mercilessly. Lost control completely."
Rodney drew a deep breath. "John..."
"Let me finish. That was the last straw. I was a total shit. There was nothing I didn't deserve. I just could not take the guilt anymore. So...I set this thing up with Teyla. I booked some time off, told her I needed expiation for waking the wraith. I told her this was an earth ritual from our people. I told her to have no mercy, to punish me harshly, to cut a switch and whip me thoroughly....that it was the only thing to banish the guilt. She was very reluctant."
"I'll bet she was," Rodney said dryly.
"She was! She might have liked it if it were a game, but she knew I was serious. And she did it for me; I'm grateful for that. She did not laugh or mock me. She set up the place, the time. She did it right. Lectured me, just as I needed. Made me stand, naked, while she told me why I was to be punished. Turned me over the tree trunk, and started with a sword blade; god knows where she got it. Scared me half to death; first I thought she was going to cut me. Pure theatrics, and boy was it effective. Bladed me, smacked me with the flat of the sword first, again and again, until I couldn't help yelling. Then, took up the switch."
"Okay, okay, I saw that part. Let's cut to the chase, okay? You had to have her hit that hard?"
"Yes, I did. Anything else wouldn't do it. Had to expiate. Had to rid myself of all I'd done. Kept asking for harder. Kept screaming for harder! Used to do that..."
"Used to do that when?" Rodney asked, heart in his throat.
"With my first dom. Yeah, I had a dom, too. Long time ago. He was a bit rough, though. Liked to push me farther, even, than I wanted to go. When he was angry, sometimes he'd lose it. He liked to tell me that he would take me to places I'd never even dreamed of...show me pain I'd never even imagined. Scared the shit out of me sometimes. But I'd emerge from sessions with him so high that I forgot the entire world."
Rodney put his head in his hands. Oh, fuck.
"Anyway. Yesterday, after it was over, Teyla brought me back here. Looked after me. But I wouldn't use any of her remedies. Wanted to feel every second of it. Every cut. Every burn."
John raised himself on one arm, wincing, until it seemed like the endorphins were taking him to a far distant planet. "Let this pain...expiate!"
"Oh, for God's sake, John. That is so stupid," Rodney burst out, finally waking from the trance he'd been in for the last ten minutes.
"Stupid?"
"Of course it is, you moron. You've been reading too many old comic books, for chrissake. Having the shit beat out of you will not change what you did. It will not change what happened. It will not change the fact that we are wraithbait, which by the way is not your fault. Feeling all this pain may be noble, and all that, but it's also fucking stupid."
John looked at Rodney, just looked at him, his face incredulous, his body drawn tight on itself with what Rodney realized was an intense amount of pain. Rodney cursed himself for being such a total asshole, and pulled out the cream he had been holding in his pocket. Seeing it, John shook his head, no.
"Oh, please," Rodney said. "Give me a break. Let me put this on, John. Your ass will still hurt a lot...you need sleep, and time, and quiet. But the cream will take the worst of the burn away. And John, really. How does this pain really help solve anything? You need to be in good shape, you need to be strong and ready, for whatever comes. You need....well,anyway. This suffering is totally idiotic and unnecessary, and you know it."
John sighed, giving up. "Okay. Do it."
Rodney washed his hands quickly in the water of the pitcher, then rubbed them with an antiseptic cleanser. He very carefully positioned himself so that he was crouching above John's legs and ass without brushing any of the red, angry lines. Then he began smoothing the cream over that beautiful ass, over those long, strong legs. John shivered and shook and groaned in a way that made Rodney's breath speed up and all the blood rush to his crotch...but he tried to ignore his own body and concentrate on that of his lover. Gently, firmly, he smoothed cream over the tight curve of John's ass, into the crevice where ass met thigh, and down along his legs.
It would take awhile. It would take awhile to trust John again, to feel totally comfortable again, to get back what they had had. Still. Here he was, alone in a tent for two days with the most delicious man in the universe. Why waste it?
"You know what I'm really looking forward to?" he said to John, trying to hide how rock-hard he was from the sheer beauty of John's body, from the incredible gorgeousness of John's ass, from the incredible hotness of the way John had put himself under punishment, let himself be bladed and switched, chastened and broken.
"What?" John bit out from between clenched teeth, trying to bear Rodney's touch on his raw skin.
"The makeup sex," said Rodney, grinning.
Author:wilde_girl
Pairing:Rodney/John
Kink: corporal punishment
Rating: R
Summary: Rodney's angry. John explains.
Author's Notes: "Decision" is a sequel to "Mainland," where Rodney came upon Teyla switching John and fled back to Atlantis in despair. "Mainland" is here: http://community.livejournal.com/atlantiskink/38898.html#cutid1
Please feed the hungry author. Constructive crit welcomed. Thanks much for your comments so far.
Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowed.
Part One
24 hours later, Rodney was back in the puddle jumper, flying low over the mainland again.
Oh, it had taken a huge amount of will power to bring him back. He hadn't slept a wink in those 24 hours, and he'd gone through every conceivable emotion. Pain, intense pain. Seeing John with Teyla was just about unbearable. Fear. Maybe John wanted Teyla, not him. Never him. The stuff with him was just a joke, just John amusing himself, playing a bit of a game, when what the man really wanted was Teyla. It was Teyla who could really give him what he wanted.
Back on Atlantis, Rodney had bit his pillow so hard at this thought there was a hole in it now.
He'd cried. Heck, he never cried. But his pain at the idea that John had been merely toying with him for weeks had made his eyes water, no matter how hard he tried to stop it. His throat had hurt so much he'd had to shut down for awhile, stop thinking, just float.
Then came anger. Fuck, John! What the heck are you doing? Why are you lying to me? What is the deal, lying to me? Fuck, that hurts. And what's this, asking to be punished? Asking...fucking hell! to be switched? John must have asked; Rodney could not imagine that the scene he had witnessed could have been anything but consensual...or else he didn't know John Sheppard at all.
Maybe he didn't.
It was sometime after 3 a.m. The sheets were clammy now, twisted, grabbing at Rodney's skin, rough, unwelcoming. He had to get up and remake the bed. He had a shower. He drank some coffee.
These actions calmed him a bit. Though his chest felt like his insides had turned to stone, he fought against panic and self-disgust. Fought hard.
He left his room and silently walked the corridors until he stood on the balcony, looking over the quiet grey sea, gazing into the distance, imagining the mainland, imagining John right now.
Fucker.
Bastard.
Liar.
It began to rain, lightly. Rodney could have stayed there and been drenched, like some sad-sack character in a mushy chick-flick. Like Clint Eastwood at the end of "Bridges of Madison County," which Rodney had seen, eons ago, on some godawful blind date. Pathetic. Get a grip, Mr. Eastwood. Really. Don't shame us.
Rodney headed back inside, went to the cafeteria, had breakfast. Breathed deep, and calmed himself. Between mouthfuls of food that could have been sawdust for all he cared, he methodically planned his next move. Wrote a note for Elizabeth. I'm taking a couple of days off. Will turn off comm link. Need a break...R and R. Call me on emergency frequency if you need me...for anything. Otherwise, would appreciate two days off.
Rodney packed a few things, and then went to see Carson. "Carson, I need some ointment...the best you have...healing, antibiotic, antiseptic, pain relief. All in one. I'm going hiking...might get sunburned, bug bitten, scraped by trees in that godawful forest. You know me; I'm a complete wuss about pain."
Carson gave him a look. His intelligent eyes searched deep into Rodney's, but Rodney stared back, his jaw tight, his eyes quiet, revealing nothing.
Carson moved over to the supply cupboard and brought out a nondescript tube. "This is new. I've been working on it for surface injuries. You...test it for me. Let me know."
"Thanks, Carson," Rodney said, pocketing the tube, and walking out with measured steps. This was Rodney on a mission. No more hesitation, no more angst, no more fucking weakness.
***
Rodney's "John finder" and his increasingly adequate flying skills helped him pinpoint the right location. As before, he landed his jumper some distance away, shouldered his pack, and walked in. It gave him time to breathe deeply, to increase his sense of calm and purpose. Only the knots in his stomach could not be totally willed away.
On the edge of a clearing, he found the tent. Teyla sat outside, alone, cooking something over the fire, looking weary and tired.
Rodney strode over to stand in front of her. Her eyes widened in surprise, but she kept calm and still...he knew she was wondering how he'd found them, how he'd gotten so close without her sensing it.
"Teyla. Thanks for all you've done. I appreciate it. But I'd like to take over now, if it's all the same to you. I'll look after him."
Teyla's eyes were unfathomable...she stood stock still for a full three minutes. "It is my duty to stay, to wait with him," she said finally.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. A warrior's duty and responsibility and blah, blah, blah. Like I said, I appreciate it, but I'm here now. I'm the one who should be here. I won't leave him on his own, no matter how pissed off...." Rodney stopped, breathed deep.
Teyla sized him up with her dark eyes, then nodded. She gathered her things in a pile, and put them in her pack. "I'll go back to the camp," she said quietly. "Contact me if you need anything, anything at all."
Rodney nodded and watched her go, politeness just about gone now but holding his temper in check. Then he sat down and ate some of the stew, which was, of course, delicious.
He turned, finally, and went into the tent.
Part Two*********
John was lying on the low bed in the tent...it appeared to have been skillfully made out of large tree branches and bark lashed together, probably by that Princess of the Woods, Teyla. Soft blankets covered the bed, and on them lay John, naked, quiet, his head turned away from the door, his dark hair sticking up wildly all over his head, his back drawn tight, probably with pain. His back muscles, usually so relaxed and beautiful...
Rodney refused to go there, and instead forced himself to look at John's ass. His ass was striped with angry red lines, as were his thighs. Rodney refused to count them, refused, also, to look away, even though he wanted to. Would not let his own eyes close.
He must have exhaled too loudly, because John turned his head. His dull eyes widened at the sight of Rodney. "Rodney, what the fuck?" he rasped hoarsely.
Rodney moved quickly to the water pitcher next to the bed, poured some into a cup, and then saw that John could not get up to drink. He sat on the bed, dipped his fingers into the water, and put them near John's mouth. John eyed him warily, but then licked his fingers dry with his soft, warm tongue. Rodney suppressed a shiver...suppressed all emotion as he dipped his fingers in water again and again until the strained look on John's face eased a bit.
Finally, John sighed, and opened his lips to speak. "Look, Rodney..."
"No, you look, John. I saw everything that happened. I came to look for you, yesterday, to have it out with you, and I saw. I saw how hard she hit you. I saw you bend over for Teyla, give it all up for her, put yourself at her mercy, turn yourself over a tree trunk, bare your entire fucking body for her, put yourself under her lash. Her lash!"
John closed his eyes, wincing. "Rodney, I'm sorry. You weren't supposed to see."
"Oh, isn't that fucking great," Rodney said, exploding at last. "I wasn't supposed to see. Well, dandy. That makes it all make sense, of course. Hide it from Rodney. Don't let him know. Don't tell him that he's just a fuck-toy. Don't tell him that I'm waltzing off to put myself in the hands of the fucking warrior queen of Atlantis...that I have a secret desire to have the crap beat out of me by a gorgeous woman."
John opened his eyes, moved, winced. "It's not like that."
"Oh, isn't it? Well, then how is it, John? What was all the stuff you said to me, about how you owned me, I was yours, I belonged to you? That was a bunch of crap, or what?"
John,incredibly, smiled. "You are so you, Rodney McKay. That's why I love you...you are always...so you."
"Well, that's fucking great. You love me. That solves everything. Excuse me while I put on my "I'm a total sucker" face." Rodney was growling now, and, damn it to hell, his whole body was shaking.
John sighed. "Okay, listen, Rodney. Let me explain, okay?" He tried to pull himself on his elbow, and gasped, turning his head away, presumably so Rodney could not see pain ravage his face.
Rodney thought about the tube of healing ointment in his pocket, but he was just enough of a bastard not to want to use it just yet. "I'm here, John," he said, in a calmer voice. "I'm listening."
Part Three*********
"Rodney, you know you are very spec---"
"Oh, John," Rodney said impatiently, "cut the crap. Just get to the why, okay? I'm dying here. Just total honesty, okay? No waffling around. I don't think it's too much for me to ask, considering."
John winced. "Okay. Well, then I should tell you that this is the second time I've done something like this with Teyla. The first time was just a short thing; I...wanted to try out what a switch felt like. Wanted to know, so I could know if you might like it some day."
"Fuck!" Rodney said. "You are fucking kidding me, here."
"No. It's true. And I saw...no way would you want it...it's too harsh, and hurts too much. Took a long time to heal, too...or would have, without some magic healing potion from Carson...only four strokes, but they stung like crazy and itched like mad."
Rodney felt a little guilt about the healing cream thing, but said nothing, looking pointedly at John, waiting for him to continue, ignoring how obviously exhausted he was, how much he needed sleep.
"After that, I put it out of my mind. Or tried to. But...it wouldn't go away. Every night, I thought about it. Spanked you...fucked you...held you in my arms. The best time of my life. Only...in a little part of my mind, something was growing. A huge thought. It started small. I tried to squash it, fuck you harder, love you harder, close my eyes. But it was there."
This was just about inhumanly hard to listen to, but Rodney grit his teeth and said nothing. He would not, however, give John any reassurance, but sat on the edge of his bed with stony eyes.
John smiled ruefully. "Guilt. That's what it was, Rodney. Guilt. Starting small, growing larger every day. You made some remark one time...how it was I who..."
"You who what?"
"I who turned the Atlantis crew into ...wraithbait. That was the time I left, for two days, and went off-world."
Rodney started to protest, apologize for being such a jerk, but John shook his head, slightly. "No. I know you were joking. But it didn't matter. I saw myself...with the wraith queen. Over and over, killing her. And she...mocking me. Telling me...I'd woken the whole ship. They would come for us, for all of us, for Atlantis, for Earth. Because of me, of what I did."
Rodney had turned totally pale now, could not speak; he put his hand on John's shoulder.
"And then, I thought about how many times...how many fucking times!...I'd made decisions, stupid ones, rash ones, brave ones, heroic ones, whatever. How many times I'd sent people to their deaths."
Rodney sighed. "John, that's part of your job. You know you always try to make the right decision."
"I know. But it doesn't get any easier. Then...while thinking about all this, racked by this guilt, I did that scene with you, that schoolroom scene. I was with you, playing around, giving you a spanking for fun, pretending I was your teacher, and then, suddenly...something happened. You...were me. Me, reckless. Me, impetuous. Me, causing havoc, endangering entire planets with my stupidity. And I snapped. Spanked you so hard...could not even see you or hear you...whipped you with that ruler, mercilessly. Lost control completely."
Rodney drew a deep breath. "John..."
"Let me finish. That was the last straw. I was a total shit. There was nothing I didn't deserve. I just could not take the guilt anymore. So...I set this thing up with Teyla. I booked some time off, told her I needed expiation for waking the wraith. I told her this was an earth ritual from our people. I told her to have no mercy, to punish me harshly, to cut a switch and whip me thoroughly....that it was the only thing to banish the guilt. She was very reluctant."
"I'll bet she was," Rodney said dryly.
"She was! She might have liked it if it were a game, but she knew I was serious. And she did it for me; I'm grateful for that. She did not laugh or mock me. She set up the place, the time. She did it right. Lectured me, just as I needed. Made me stand, naked, while she told me why I was to be punished. Turned me over the tree trunk, and started with a sword blade; god knows where she got it. Scared me half to death; first I thought she was going to cut me. Pure theatrics, and boy was it effective. Bladed me, smacked me with the flat of the sword first, again and again, until I couldn't help yelling. Then, took up the switch."
"Okay, okay, I saw that part. Let's cut to the chase, okay? You had to have her hit that hard?"
"Yes, I did. Anything else wouldn't do it. Had to expiate. Had to rid myself of all I'd done. Kept asking for harder. Kept screaming for harder! Used to do that..."
"Used to do that when?" Rodney asked, heart in his throat.
"With my first dom. Yeah, I had a dom, too. Long time ago. He was a bit rough, though. Liked to push me farther, even, than I wanted to go. When he was angry, sometimes he'd lose it. He liked to tell me that he would take me to places I'd never even dreamed of...show me pain I'd never even imagined. Scared the shit out of me sometimes. But I'd emerge from sessions with him so high that I forgot the entire world."
Rodney put his head in his hands. Oh, fuck.
"Anyway. Yesterday, after it was over, Teyla brought me back here. Looked after me. But I wouldn't use any of her remedies. Wanted to feel every second of it. Every cut. Every burn."
John raised himself on one arm, wincing, until it seemed like the endorphins were taking him to a far distant planet. "Let this pain...expiate!"
"Oh, for God's sake, John. That is so stupid," Rodney burst out, finally waking from the trance he'd been in for the last ten minutes.
"Stupid?"
"Of course it is, you moron. You've been reading too many old comic books, for chrissake. Having the shit beat out of you will not change what you did. It will not change what happened. It will not change the fact that we are wraithbait, which by the way is not your fault. Feeling all this pain may be noble, and all that, but it's also fucking stupid."
John looked at Rodney, just looked at him, his face incredulous, his body drawn tight on itself with what Rodney realized was an intense amount of pain. Rodney cursed himself for being such a total asshole, and pulled out the cream he had been holding in his pocket. Seeing it, John shook his head, no.
"Oh, please," Rodney said. "Give me a break. Let me put this on, John. Your ass will still hurt a lot...you need sleep, and time, and quiet. But the cream will take the worst of the burn away. And John, really. How does this pain really help solve anything? You need to be in good shape, you need to be strong and ready, for whatever comes. You need....well,anyway. This suffering is totally idiotic and unnecessary, and you know it."
John sighed, giving up. "Okay. Do it."
Rodney washed his hands quickly in the water of the pitcher, then rubbed them with an antiseptic cleanser. He very carefully positioned himself so that he was crouching above John's legs and ass without brushing any of the red, angry lines. Then he began smoothing the cream over that beautiful ass, over those long, strong legs. John shivered and shook and groaned in a way that made Rodney's breath speed up and all the blood rush to his crotch...but he tried to ignore his own body and concentrate on that of his lover. Gently, firmly, he smoothed cream over the tight curve of John's ass, into the crevice where ass met thigh, and down along his legs.
It would take awhile. It would take awhile to trust John again, to feel totally comfortable again, to get back what they had had. Still. Here he was, alone in a tent for two days with the most delicious man in the universe. Why waste it?
"You know what I'm really looking forward to?" he said to John, trying to hide how rock-hard he was from the sheer beauty of John's body, from the incredible gorgeousness of John's ass, from the incredible hotness of the way John had put himself under punishment, let himself be bladed and switched, chastened and broken.
"What?" John bit out from between clenched teeth, trying to bear Rodney's touch on his raw skin.
"The makeup sex," said Rodney, grinning.