TEAM SHEPPARD: fall from grace, "Seven Day Fool"
Title: Seven Day Fool
Author: reddwarfer
Team: Sheppard
Prompt: fall from grace
Pairing(s): McKay/Sheppard, McKay/Keller (background)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: (highlight to reveal) Partner betrayal
Summary: So, in the end, the only way to equal it out was to hurt them all.
Notes: Many, many thanks to the very lovely and very patient moderators. I would also love to give profuse adoration to my beta-readers (busaikko and djin7)
Once you've read the story, please take a moment to vote in the poll below. Ratings go from 1 (low) to 9 (high), so all you need to do is enter a single number in that range into each text entry box. You'll be able to see the prompt in the header above.
More details about the voting procedure can be found here.
I know I'm heading for the bottom, but I'm riding you all the way.
Chris Cornell
carpe diem
seize the day
The quiet hum of Atlantis and the soft pant of breath was all John could hear in the dim sanctity of his room. Rodney was curled up against him, absently rubbing the skin on John's belly.
Part of him knew he should get up soon, move about, but he was comfortable in a way he rarely ever felt.
The sweat on his skin had begun to cool when Rodney finally spoke again. "John," Rodney's voice was quiet, hesitant. "Do you want...should I-have a talk-you know...with Jennifer?"
John turned his head to face Rodney. He saw all the things Rodney wanted from him; things he either couldn't or wouldn't give (and he could scarcely tell the difference between the two anymore), and he felt a twinge of fear in the pit of his stomach. Clearing his throat, he shook his head. "No. You shouldn't. Not for this."
He watched as irritation and relief fought for dominance on Rodney's face before his expression shifted somewhere in between and settled on resignation. "If that's what you think is best..."
"Yes," John replied, not knowing what else to say, feeling every other word choke up in his throat.
The hurt on Rodney's face was clear for all of three seconds before he pulled it back, and with it everything else. He got to his feet, pulled on his clothes, and went to the door. He paused for a few seconds-John took this time to roll over onto his front-then sighed and left.
forsan et haec olim meminisse iuvabit
perhaps even these things will be good to remember one day
Rodney marrying Jennifer hadn't surprised John in the least. She was exactly what Rodney said he'd been fantasizing about for years. Jennifer marrying Rodney, however, had surprised him-her part in their relationship always had. She didn't seem the sort to settle for being second to someone; and with Rodney, she could never be more than that. Work always came first, second, and even third. And then, John-when he was feeling particularly honest with himself-knew that he was right below that. So any woman in Rodney's life would have to settle for a rung far below what was expected.
During that last bit of leave-a long weekend-a week before they shipped back to Pegasus, Rodney and Jennifer disappeared, only sending a "To all" SGC email notice of their Vegas wedding after the fact. When they came back, Rodney seemed reluctantly happy, he kept shooting John complicated glances when he thought he wouldn't notice.
Work prevented John from going to see Rodney for most of the week, and John hadn't exactly been eager to confront him until he heard from scuttlebutt that although Rodney and Jennifer were married, they weren't sharing quarters, apparently due to issues of space and conflicting work hours. John knew bullshit when he heard it-although Rodney bristled at sharing his space, John doubted that Rodney had cared to explore living arrangements for himself and his new wife during the preparation to return home. The though made John smile a little as he finished off his much-neglected paperwork. He knew Rodney would continue to avoid him if John let him, so he decided to take that option out of Rodney's hands.
Night had long since fallen when John walked into Rodney's rooms without knocking. Rodney didn't greet him, just simply looked up from putting away some clothes-Jennifer's, John decided-in a drawer from the laundry duffel on the floor. Last night, apparently, was one of their shared evenings. John stood in the middle of Rodney's room and watched as Rodney sat on the edge of his bed and tried to avoid John's eyes.
"So," John said, breaking the awkward silence with a small, wry grin. "Married, huh?"
Chin tilting defiantly, Rodney finally looked up at him. "Yes."
"Good," John said, face serious again, nodding as he moved closer. Before Rodney had a chance to apologize or explain, John darted forward, going to his knees, and grabbed Rodney's face into a kiss. Rodney fought for all of two seconds before he retaliated, John's face in his hands, biting at John's lips, licking into his mouth, making every moment of this kiss an angry tirade.
John pulled back, panting, stared at Rodney's face, and repeated, "Good," and pushed Rodney fully back down on to the bed. This time, Rodney went without a fight. John tore off his shirt, throwing it to the side, and unbuttoned his pants while Rodney just watched.
"Rodney," he grated out, and finally Rodney sat up and disrobed quickly, just in time for John, finally naked, to once again push him down, covering Rodney's body with his own.
Kissing along Rodney's jaw, John felt a heady sensation curl through him that he'd not had their first time, or even the second or third. Now, it was okay. Now, it was safe. He could have this without worrying about what would happen after.
Rodney's hands slid down his back to grope at his ass, thrusting up against his hip with more want than rhythm. Grinning against the skin of Rodney's throat, John blindly reached over to the side table, and fumbled with the drawer until he found the lube and a condom packet.
He didn't care about consequences, in that moment, or tomorrow, or the ring on Rodney's finger; he cared about the way Rodney scrambled to his hands and knees, he cared about the way Rodney spread his legs wide to give him room, he cared about the way Rodney pushed back onto his fingers, he cared about the way Rodney begged.
"John," Rodney panted against the pillow, his hands clenched tightly in the sheet, hiding what John didn't want to see.
The grip he had on Rodney's hips wasn't enough. Neither was the pulse pounding in his ears. John moved forward, blanketing Rodney's body with his own, reveling when Rodney shuddered as his chest hair scraped along the sweaty skin of his back. He shoved his cock in hard, fast, with little care for finesse or gentleness. Only need, bone-deep need, drove him. John darted out his tongue to taste the sweat beading along the skin behind Rodney's ear, not thinking about whether his teeth were leaving lasting marks, and kissed his way down until he was just panting against Rodney's cheek.
"I need," Rodney said, desperate and shaky, "I...John...so much." John huffed out a sound of agreement, his own desperation vibrating beneath his skin.
Rodney came, blindsiding John with the tight clench of his hole around him, only then registering the movement of Rodney's left hand when it came up to blindly aim for his mouth. John sucked in the wet fingers, closing his eyes at the taste, and felt himself fly.
The night had settled, along with most of the city, into quiet hours before dawn. John lay awake, not able to turn off his brain enough to sleep. Rodney was tucked in next to him, drooling on his shoulder. He had no idea what Rodney told Jennifer about what he was doing, only that when John returned from the shower, Rodney had ended the conversation with Jennifer by saying he loved her and would see her tomorrow.
Rodney had dared John with his eyes alone to say something, anything, to argue with him. John got back into bed and asked Rodney if he'd remembered to grab the latest season of Dr. Who for the trip back. There was a moment where he thought Rodney might make him leave, but instead he just rolled his eyes, said, of course, do I look like a complete moron?, and fell asleep shortly after.
Now, with the city sleeping, John was left alone with his thoughts, with his guilt, strangely coupled with an intense feeling of relief. Rodney was not the first married man he'd been with-he preferred them; they were safe. They only needed the things he could give-fucking, blow jobs, rimming, hand jobs, and the like-and never the things he couldn't-reliability, openness, emotional connections. They didn't want to be out, they didn't demand visibility. They were content with the meager bits he could provide because they were never going to leave their wives, their families, not for him.
And John'd never had a hard time sleeping in the aftermath before now-it wasn't his fault if these men strayed. He wasn't destroying anything that hadn't already been laid to waste before they'd turned to him. But John knew in his heart that it was different with Rodney-it always was-and that Rodney's marriage hadn't had the time to become dead and Jennifer wasn't some faceless person he didn't care about.
He hated her, sure, but that had nothing to do with her at all.
hodie mihi, cras tibi
today it's me, tomorrow it will be you
Rodney frowned unhappily at the wall. There was too much to do, too little time to do it in, and he could barely focus on a damned thing. His stress level was going to push him into needing blood pressure medicine if he didn't get it under control. Dr Biro was scarily insistent about him treating his health a little less flippantly.
The truth was, he wasn't happy. The truth was, there wasn't a way he could be. He tried not to think about what he was doing. He tried not to think about his upcoming anniversary. He shored himself with the knowledge that sometimes the ends justified the means. He wasn't sure how it was particularly relevant in this situation, but he was sure he could figure it out given enough time.
He glanced over at the clock and noticed it was just past one. He was bored. Teyla and Ronon were gone from Atlantis, off doing their annual political reaffirming Pegasus native bonding, or whatever-the-fuck, and thankful as he was to not take part in it, he was still bored. A small part of him was also grateful not to have them around at the moment. They were the only people, aside from John, who knew him well enough, to see right through the lies he told himself and were brave enough to call him on it. It was selfish, but being selfish was old hat to him.
He dithered pointlessly for another few minutes, then he got to his feet, leaving his lab abruptly, not bothering to inform anyone about where he was going.
John was sitting at his desk in his office, looking as bored as Rodney felt. There was a brief smirk on his face, some sort of mocking comment on his lips, but it died when Rodney strode into the room, locking the door behind him.
"Shut up," Rodney said, dropping to his knees, practically ripping at John's fly. "Whatever you're going to say, shut up. I'm tired. I'm distracted. I'm also, quite frankly, bored to tears. If you don't let me suck your cock, it could result in dire consequences for everyone on this base."
John didn't have time to argue, because Rodney swallowed him whole before he had the chance.
Rodney lost himself in the taste of John's precome, the scent of his musk, and tried to imagine every thrust of cock in his mouth was shoving away another unwanted thought. John's hands reached down, one with a claw-like grip on his shoulder-ow-and the other gripping his hair painfully-ow, Christ, Sheppard-but he ignored it in favor of John's dick hitting the back of his throat.
"Jesus," John cursed softly, and came before Rodney was ready to stop. He pulled back, panting, and lay his head against John's lap, grateful when John's grip loosened, turned into a caress.
Every moment like this with John convinced him he was doing the right thing, told him he was doing the wrong thing, existing for both relationships at the same time, and not all.
He missed her when he was with John, sometimes, and missed John when he was with her. He liked seeing her smile at him during breakfasts and liked the way John teased him over dinner. Rodney liked the way people looked at them when he escorted Jennifer into a room and the way John made everyone else around them disappear.
Rodney's mind was a mess, and there was no scenario he could imagine in which nobody got hurt; he knew this because he ran the numbers endlessly on loop when he got restless like this.
So, in the end, the only way to make everything equal out to was to hurt them all.
diem perdidi
i have lost the day
Looking over at the clock, John noticed it was finally closing in on seven. The solitude in his quarters was getting stifling, and he'd run out of things to distract himself hours ago. Ronon was busy with Amelia as usual, now that they were married, and John avoided Teyla's barely disguised disapproval whenever possible. She didn't know the extent of what was happening, but she was far from unaware-she was too intuitive to be otherwise. She never let it disrupt their working relationship but John missed her friendship, which had turned cold.
Rodney had been busy most of the week, mostly lab stuff, and John had only seen him during missions and meals. Oh, and twice in the storage closet near John's office.
He quickly made his way over to Rodney's quarters, hoping that he wouldn't fall asleep in there, again, before Rodney decided to break away from work and make his way back there.
John was slouched on his couch half an hour later, and smirked when Rodney hurried in and dropped a folder filled with paper in surprise.
"What are you doing here?" Rodney bent over to pick up his papers, then turned around to put them away on his desk.
"Jennifer said she was having a girls' night, and asked me to keep you company."
And hadn't that been a pleasant conversation. John had taken to eating lunches with her-penance, his brain told him-and he wondered what sort of sense of humor Fate had to make him someone she would call 'friend'. Jennifer had mentioned how they'd been bickering a lot lately, how she didn't really know why, and that maybe Rodney needed some more time to relax with his friends, like she did. John had nodded and smiled, and pretended like he wasn't the biggest asshole in the galaxy.
Rodney swallowed thickly, distracting him from his thoughts. "Good thing you're so accommodating..."
"I do my best," John replied, tugging Rodney down to join him.
They kissed for a while, heated and demanding, Rodney straddling his lap, thrusting against his stomach languidly as John tasted every inch of Rodney's neck and mouth, first urgently, then slowing until it tapered off and then they were just wrapped around each other, breathing quietly. John ignored both of their erections, wanting Rodney rather badly, but not wanting to fuck just yet and lose the rest of the night to sleep.
He pulled back, looked up into Rodney's eyes-sad, tense, sure-and said, "Want to watch Back To Earth? I hear it's done in the best Blade Runner tradition."
Rodney's eyebrows shot up for a moment, and he snorted as he moved off John's lap to sit down next to him, instead.
They didn't get enough quiet moments like this, like the ones they used to enjoy before. Every moment now was imbued with urgency and barely repressed need, something he used to ignore, and pretend didn't exist. Now, he indulged, they indulged in the demands of their bodies more often than not; but that didn't mean he wanted to lose moments like these, he didn't want them replaced. John wanted it all-and he was such a prick and knew it-but he had to pick his battles; more often than not he chose the physical, as if trying to make up for the years of unsatisfied want.
Sitting side by side, Rodney's head started upright, but then drifted down to John's shoulder, eventually migrated to his lap, his lips open, welcoming, wet. John couldn't recall how the show ended.
Later, while Rodney lay splayed on his bed, loose and warm, flat on his belly, John fucked him slow, with every possible inch of skin touching, and he held one of Rodney's hands in a tight, tangled grip. Rodney sighed with each languid thrust, peppered little kisses on John's knuckles pulled close to his lips.
John didn't want this to end, even if he knew it should.
dies irae
day of wrath
John had barely answered the chime when Rodney came barreling inside into his room, pawing at his pants before the door had time to shut behind them.
"Hey," John said, grabbing Rodney's wrists away from his clothing. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, too, but I generally start with 'hello'."
"Work was terrible, lunch was stir-fried tofu, Jennifer's making noise about 'the next stage of our lives' five years ahead of schedule-which is a euphemism for children, in case you didn't know-so if you don't mind, can we have sex before I decide to build a bomb and detonate it in my third favorite lab, with me in it?" Rodney's desperation was radiating off him in waves, hands making abortive movements as if confused as to why John's pants weren't in them anymore. John spent a passing moment trying to parse why Jennifer thought kids with Rodney was a good idea, then quickly shoved it in the back of his mind with every other unpleasant thought he did his best to forget.
"So, this is a safety issue. My duty as commander to keep this base standing," John said, a trifle amused, letting go of Rodney's wrists, allowing his hands drop to his sides.
Rodney immediately went back determinedly to stripping John naked, paused, looked up, and said, "Huh? What? Oh, yes, fine. Whatever. As long as it ends with me having an orgasm within the next hour, I don't care what you call it."
Rodney pinned him against the wall, the steady hum of anger that Rodney always seemed to have nowadays was pouring off his skin. Then he had their cocks lined up, and the delicious drag of skin caused sparks to shove away those unpleasant and unwanted thoughts. John just closed his eyes and let himself feel.
nulla dies sine linea
not a day without a line drawn.
Rodney was drifting pleasantly when John began fidgeting enough to snap him out of his sleep-induced haze. He turned and saw the soft glint of John's eyes. "You're thinking too loud."
"Go back to sleep." John's voice was stilted, quiet, and that was never a good thing.
"Jennifer won't get off work 'til eight. That's plenty of time to sleep after you finish telling me what's bothering you," Rodney said, hoping there was enough stubborn in his voice to get John to capitulate.
Sighing, John shifted again. "The SGC is ordering me to take my vacation on Earth."
"Are they worried about you going native or are they just evil pencil-pushing bastards who have a vendetta against lieutenant colonels who like surfing off-world? Or, is it something worse that I'm unable to concoct because I'm still, at least partially, asleep?"
"Some new time-waster on the IOA is arguing that any time spent in this galaxy is on the clock."
"And it's taken them over eight years to come up with this?" Rodney asked, incredulous. Though he suspected that there was more going on than just the vacation. John had a tendency to pull away from Rodney, particularly when they spent too much time together. Rodney hadn't figured out the calculations John used to determine how much was too much, but he suspected it was directly related to intimacy levels, not actual units of time. He didn't have much to go on, but, Rodney had over five years of being Sheppard's best friend and three more years experience since dealing with John's emotional moods, he would figure out the pattern, eventually. He was not a stupid man.
"You know the suits like inventing new hoops for us to jump through. Keeps us on our toes." John sounded resigned, now.
"If you're up for vacation, I should be, too," Rodney mused, wondering if this was in one of the many administration emails from Woolsey that he'd been ignoring.
"You should take Jennifer somewhere nice. Didn't you forget your anniversary this year?" John said, but there was a hint of command in his voice. The same tone he'd used with Rodney in their early days, and their first few times together. Rodney often wondered why John always called him on his fuckups with his wife, how he advised ways to get him out of his marriage doghouse. Rodney didn't figure his chances were great at finding out, either, so he just let John fret about Jennifer's feelings. Somebody had to.
"I didn't forget. It was just that there were at least three very important projects that required my attention on that day," Rodney huffed, leaving out the bit where John had sucked his brains out the night before and he'd woken up the next morning late and distracted.
"Sure you did," John agreed lightly, a counterpoint to the heaviness in the room.
Rodney wanted John to know how much he wanted a divorce.
About the fights he'd been having with Jennifer, and how he thought she'd leave him soon.
He wanted John to know that he secretly hoped Jennifer did leave him, because she didn't deserve this. In order to be what she deserved, Rodney would have to give up John-and didn't know how he could.
Rodney was terrified that if he lost her, he would lose them both.
"Well, I guess I should find out if she's got something planned," Rodney said a moment later, acquiescing. He felt John relax beside him. "Now, if we're done with this scintillating conversation, we should probably sleep."
John hummed in agreement, but didn't close his eyes. Rodney rolled his eyes, moved closer, and cupped his hand around John's cheek. Maybe they could wear themselves out enough that falling asleep was no longer a choice.
sine die
without a day
This thing with Rodney had to end.
It wasn't the first time John told himself this. His reasons for not following through just as he was about to tell Rodney were numerous; the day-week-year was stressful enough, there were important projects Rodney needed to focus on, there were performance reviews that needed his attention, he didn't want to hurt Rodney's feelings, it was meatloaf night.
He also knew reasoning after the fact was called rationalizing.
Whenever Rodney blithely told Jennifer about work projects he didn't have or movies he didn't watch, John had to fight not to cringe. Sometimes, it embarrassed him how good Rodney got at lying.
John tried to ignore the growing whispers from the gossip about Rodney and Jennifer being on the rocks, and the ever-persistent guilt that their marital problems were, in most ways, his fault. He avoided Teyla all the time and tried to quell the worry in the pit of his belly that Jennifer would leave Rodney. They'd get divorced and then Rodney would turn to him, expectant and needy and so very Rodney-and John would have to say no.
Because he couldn't say yes. Don't ask, don't tell, don't be out.
John couldn't be all the things Rodney deserved.
All he could give Rodney were the bits he already had, when no one was watching.
Rodney must know by now that there was a limit to what he could have from John. But the worry remained.
It was no use, John figured. He had to break up with Rodney now lest he give himself permission to procrastinate. He got to his feet, girded himself, and opened his door-only to find Rodney standing on the other side. One good look at him, and John could see every single thought he'd had mirrored on Rodney's face.
It was something of a relief to be on the same page. Rodney knew this couldn't go on, and he wouldn't make it hard for John when he finally said what needed saying.
Yet, John couldn't make himself open his mouth. He just stood there, staring at Rodney, willing him to be the strong one. Rodney stared back, stress lines around his eyes, mouth slanted in a frown, his shoulders slumped in defeat.
After what felt like an eternity, John swallowed the words he knew he should say, and stepped back, silently inviting Rodney inside. With visible relief, Rodney relaxed his posture, and walked in, moving toward the bed, not looking back
Not looking back either, John let the door close behind them.
ad extremum
to the end
Poll
Author: reddwarfer
Team: Sheppard
Prompt: fall from grace
Pairing(s): McKay/Sheppard, McKay/Keller (background)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: (highlight to reveal) Partner betrayal
Summary: So, in the end, the only way to equal it out was to hurt them all.
Notes: Many, many thanks to the very lovely and very patient moderators. I would also love to give profuse adoration to my beta-readers (busaikko and djin7)
Once you've read the story, please take a moment to vote in the poll below. Ratings go from 1 (low) to 9 (high), so all you need to do is enter a single number in that range into each text entry box. You'll be able to see the prompt in the header above.
More details about the voting procedure can be found here.
I know I'm heading for the bottom, but I'm riding you all the way.
Chris Cornell
carpe diem
seize the day
The quiet hum of Atlantis and the soft pant of breath was all John could hear in the dim sanctity of his room. Rodney was curled up against him, absently rubbing the skin on John's belly.
Part of him knew he should get up soon, move about, but he was comfortable in a way he rarely ever felt.
The sweat on his skin had begun to cool when Rodney finally spoke again. "John," Rodney's voice was quiet, hesitant. "Do you want...should I-have a talk-you know...with Jennifer?"
John turned his head to face Rodney. He saw all the things Rodney wanted from him; things he either couldn't or wouldn't give (and he could scarcely tell the difference between the two anymore), and he felt a twinge of fear in the pit of his stomach. Clearing his throat, he shook his head. "No. You shouldn't. Not for this."
He watched as irritation and relief fought for dominance on Rodney's face before his expression shifted somewhere in between and settled on resignation. "If that's what you think is best..."
"Yes," John replied, not knowing what else to say, feeling every other word choke up in his throat.
The hurt on Rodney's face was clear for all of three seconds before he pulled it back, and with it everything else. He got to his feet, pulled on his clothes, and went to the door. He paused for a few seconds-John took this time to roll over onto his front-then sighed and left.
forsan et haec olim meminisse iuvabit
perhaps even these things will be good to remember one day
Rodney marrying Jennifer hadn't surprised John in the least. She was exactly what Rodney said he'd been fantasizing about for years. Jennifer marrying Rodney, however, had surprised him-her part in their relationship always had. She didn't seem the sort to settle for being second to someone; and with Rodney, she could never be more than that. Work always came first, second, and even third. And then, John-when he was feeling particularly honest with himself-knew that he was right below that. So any woman in Rodney's life would have to settle for a rung far below what was expected.
During that last bit of leave-a long weekend-a week before they shipped back to Pegasus, Rodney and Jennifer disappeared, only sending a "To all" SGC email notice of their Vegas wedding after the fact. When they came back, Rodney seemed reluctantly happy, he kept shooting John complicated glances when he thought he wouldn't notice.
Work prevented John from going to see Rodney for most of the week, and John hadn't exactly been eager to confront him until he heard from scuttlebutt that although Rodney and Jennifer were married, they weren't sharing quarters, apparently due to issues of space and conflicting work hours. John knew bullshit when he heard it-although Rodney bristled at sharing his space, John doubted that Rodney had cared to explore living arrangements for himself and his new wife during the preparation to return home. The though made John smile a little as he finished off his much-neglected paperwork. He knew Rodney would continue to avoid him if John let him, so he decided to take that option out of Rodney's hands.
Night had long since fallen when John walked into Rodney's rooms without knocking. Rodney didn't greet him, just simply looked up from putting away some clothes-Jennifer's, John decided-in a drawer from the laundry duffel on the floor. Last night, apparently, was one of their shared evenings. John stood in the middle of Rodney's room and watched as Rodney sat on the edge of his bed and tried to avoid John's eyes.
"So," John said, breaking the awkward silence with a small, wry grin. "Married, huh?"
Chin tilting defiantly, Rodney finally looked up at him. "Yes."
"Good," John said, face serious again, nodding as he moved closer. Before Rodney had a chance to apologize or explain, John darted forward, going to his knees, and grabbed Rodney's face into a kiss. Rodney fought for all of two seconds before he retaliated, John's face in his hands, biting at John's lips, licking into his mouth, making every moment of this kiss an angry tirade.
John pulled back, panting, stared at Rodney's face, and repeated, "Good," and pushed Rodney fully back down on to the bed. This time, Rodney went without a fight. John tore off his shirt, throwing it to the side, and unbuttoned his pants while Rodney just watched.
"Rodney," he grated out, and finally Rodney sat up and disrobed quickly, just in time for John, finally naked, to once again push him down, covering Rodney's body with his own.
Kissing along Rodney's jaw, John felt a heady sensation curl through him that he'd not had their first time, or even the second or third. Now, it was okay. Now, it was safe. He could have this without worrying about what would happen after.
Rodney's hands slid down his back to grope at his ass, thrusting up against his hip with more want than rhythm. Grinning against the skin of Rodney's throat, John blindly reached over to the side table, and fumbled with the drawer until he found the lube and a condom packet.
He didn't care about consequences, in that moment, or tomorrow, or the ring on Rodney's finger; he cared about the way Rodney scrambled to his hands and knees, he cared about the way Rodney spread his legs wide to give him room, he cared about the way Rodney pushed back onto his fingers, he cared about the way Rodney begged.
"John," Rodney panted against the pillow, his hands clenched tightly in the sheet, hiding what John didn't want to see.
The grip he had on Rodney's hips wasn't enough. Neither was the pulse pounding in his ears. John moved forward, blanketing Rodney's body with his own, reveling when Rodney shuddered as his chest hair scraped along the sweaty skin of his back. He shoved his cock in hard, fast, with little care for finesse or gentleness. Only need, bone-deep need, drove him. John darted out his tongue to taste the sweat beading along the skin behind Rodney's ear, not thinking about whether his teeth were leaving lasting marks, and kissed his way down until he was just panting against Rodney's cheek.
"I need," Rodney said, desperate and shaky, "I...John...so much." John huffed out a sound of agreement, his own desperation vibrating beneath his skin.
Rodney came, blindsiding John with the tight clench of his hole around him, only then registering the movement of Rodney's left hand when it came up to blindly aim for his mouth. John sucked in the wet fingers, closing his eyes at the taste, and felt himself fly.
The night had settled, along with most of the city, into quiet hours before dawn. John lay awake, not able to turn off his brain enough to sleep. Rodney was tucked in next to him, drooling on his shoulder. He had no idea what Rodney told Jennifer about what he was doing, only that when John returned from the shower, Rodney had ended the conversation with Jennifer by saying he loved her and would see her tomorrow.
Rodney had dared John with his eyes alone to say something, anything, to argue with him. John got back into bed and asked Rodney if he'd remembered to grab the latest season of Dr. Who for the trip back. There was a moment where he thought Rodney might make him leave, but instead he just rolled his eyes, said, of course, do I look like a complete moron?, and fell asleep shortly after.
Now, with the city sleeping, John was left alone with his thoughts, with his guilt, strangely coupled with an intense feeling of relief. Rodney was not the first married man he'd been with-he preferred them; they were safe. They only needed the things he could give-fucking, blow jobs, rimming, hand jobs, and the like-and never the things he couldn't-reliability, openness, emotional connections. They didn't want to be out, they didn't demand visibility. They were content with the meager bits he could provide because they were never going to leave their wives, their families, not for him.
And John'd never had a hard time sleeping in the aftermath before now-it wasn't his fault if these men strayed. He wasn't destroying anything that hadn't already been laid to waste before they'd turned to him. But John knew in his heart that it was different with Rodney-it always was-and that Rodney's marriage hadn't had the time to become dead and Jennifer wasn't some faceless person he didn't care about.
He hated her, sure, but that had nothing to do with her at all.
hodie mihi, cras tibi
today it's me, tomorrow it will be you
Rodney frowned unhappily at the wall. There was too much to do, too little time to do it in, and he could barely focus on a damned thing. His stress level was going to push him into needing blood pressure medicine if he didn't get it under control. Dr Biro was scarily insistent about him treating his health a little less flippantly.
The truth was, he wasn't happy. The truth was, there wasn't a way he could be. He tried not to think about what he was doing. He tried not to think about his upcoming anniversary. He shored himself with the knowledge that sometimes the ends justified the means. He wasn't sure how it was particularly relevant in this situation, but he was sure he could figure it out given enough time.
He glanced over at the clock and noticed it was just past one. He was bored. Teyla and Ronon were gone from Atlantis, off doing their annual political reaffirming Pegasus native bonding, or whatever-the-fuck, and thankful as he was to not take part in it, he was still bored. A small part of him was also grateful not to have them around at the moment. They were the only people, aside from John, who knew him well enough, to see right through the lies he told himself and were brave enough to call him on it. It was selfish, but being selfish was old hat to him.
He dithered pointlessly for another few minutes, then he got to his feet, leaving his lab abruptly, not bothering to inform anyone about where he was going.
John was sitting at his desk in his office, looking as bored as Rodney felt. There was a brief smirk on his face, some sort of mocking comment on his lips, but it died when Rodney strode into the room, locking the door behind him.
"Shut up," Rodney said, dropping to his knees, practically ripping at John's fly. "Whatever you're going to say, shut up. I'm tired. I'm distracted. I'm also, quite frankly, bored to tears. If you don't let me suck your cock, it could result in dire consequences for everyone on this base."
John didn't have time to argue, because Rodney swallowed him whole before he had the chance.
Rodney lost himself in the taste of John's precome, the scent of his musk, and tried to imagine every thrust of cock in his mouth was shoving away another unwanted thought. John's hands reached down, one with a claw-like grip on his shoulder-ow-and the other gripping his hair painfully-ow, Christ, Sheppard-but he ignored it in favor of John's dick hitting the back of his throat.
"Jesus," John cursed softly, and came before Rodney was ready to stop. He pulled back, panting, and lay his head against John's lap, grateful when John's grip loosened, turned into a caress.
Every moment like this with John convinced him he was doing the right thing, told him he was doing the wrong thing, existing for both relationships at the same time, and not all.
He missed her when he was with John, sometimes, and missed John when he was with her. He liked seeing her smile at him during breakfasts and liked the way John teased him over dinner. Rodney liked the way people looked at them when he escorted Jennifer into a room and the way John made everyone else around them disappear.
Rodney's mind was a mess, and there was no scenario he could imagine in which nobody got hurt; he knew this because he ran the numbers endlessly on loop when he got restless like this.
So, in the end, the only way to make everything equal out to was to hurt them all.
diem perdidi
i have lost the day
Looking over at the clock, John noticed it was finally closing in on seven. The solitude in his quarters was getting stifling, and he'd run out of things to distract himself hours ago. Ronon was busy with Amelia as usual, now that they were married, and John avoided Teyla's barely disguised disapproval whenever possible. She didn't know the extent of what was happening, but she was far from unaware-she was too intuitive to be otherwise. She never let it disrupt their working relationship but John missed her friendship, which had turned cold.
Rodney had been busy most of the week, mostly lab stuff, and John had only seen him during missions and meals. Oh, and twice in the storage closet near John's office.
He quickly made his way over to Rodney's quarters, hoping that he wouldn't fall asleep in there, again, before Rodney decided to break away from work and make his way back there.
John was slouched on his couch half an hour later, and smirked when Rodney hurried in and dropped a folder filled with paper in surprise.
"What are you doing here?" Rodney bent over to pick up his papers, then turned around to put them away on his desk.
"Jennifer said she was having a girls' night, and asked me to keep you company."
And hadn't that been a pleasant conversation. John had taken to eating lunches with her-penance, his brain told him-and he wondered what sort of sense of humor Fate had to make him someone she would call 'friend'. Jennifer had mentioned how they'd been bickering a lot lately, how she didn't really know why, and that maybe Rodney needed some more time to relax with his friends, like she did. John had nodded and smiled, and pretended like he wasn't the biggest asshole in the galaxy.
Rodney swallowed thickly, distracting him from his thoughts. "Good thing you're so accommodating..."
"I do my best," John replied, tugging Rodney down to join him.
They kissed for a while, heated and demanding, Rodney straddling his lap, thrusting against his stomach languidly as John tasted every inch of Rodney's neck and mouth, first urgently, then slowing until it tapered off and then they were just wrapped around each other, breathing quietly. John ignored both of their erections, wanting Rodney rather badly, but not wanting to fuck just yet and lose the rest of the night to sleep.
He pulled back, looked up into Rodney's eyes-sad, tense, sure-and said, "Want to watch Back To Earth? I hear it's done in the best Blade Runner tradition."
Rodney's eyebrows shot up for a moment, and he snorted as he moved off John's lap to sit down next to him, instead.
They didn't get enough quiet moments like this, like the ones they used to enjoy before. Every moment now was imbued with urgency and barely repressed need, something he used to ignore, and pretend didn't exist. Now, he indulged, they indulged in the demands of their bodies more often than not; but that didn't mean he wanted to lose moments like these, he didn't want them replaced. John wanted it all-and he was such a prick and knew it-but he had to pick his battles; more often than not he chose the physical, as if trying to make up for the years of unsatisfied want.
Sitting side by side, Rodney's head started upright, but then drifted down to John's shoulder, eventually migrated to his lap, his lips open, welcoming, wet. John couldn't recall how the show ended.
Later, while Rodney lay splayed on his bed, loose and warm, flat on his belly, John fucked him slow, with every possible inch of skin touching, and he held one of Rodney's hands in a tight, tangled grip. Rodney sighed with each languid thrust, peppered little kisses on John's knuckles pulled close to his lips.
John didn't want this to end, even if he knew it should.
dies irae
day of wrath
John had barely answered the chime when Rodney came barreling inside into his room, pawing at his pants before the door had time to shut behind them.
"Hey," John said, grabbing Rodney's wrists away from his clothing. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, too, but I generally start with 'hello'."
"Work was terrible, lunch was stir-fried tofu, Jennifer's making noise about 'the next stage of our lives' five years ahead of schedule-which is a euphemism for children, in case you didn't know-so if you don't mind, can we have sex before I decide to build a bomb and detonate it in my third favorite lab, with me in it?" Rodney's desperation was radiating off him in waves, hands making abortive movements as if confused as to why John's pants weren't in them anymore. John spent a passing moment trying to parse why Jennifer thought kids with Rodney was a good idea, then quickly shoved it in the back of his mind with every other unpleasant thought he did his best to forget.
"So, this is a safety issue. My duty as commander to keep this base standing," John said, a trifle amused, letting go of Rodney's wrists, allowing his hands drop to his sides.
Rodney immediately went back determinedly to stripping John naked, paused, looked up, and said, "Huh? What? Oh, yes, fine. Whatever. As long as it ends with me having an orgasm within the next hour, I don't care what you call it."
Rodney pinned him against the wall, the steady hum of anger that Rodney always seemed to have nowadays was pouring off his skin. Then he had their cocks lined up, and the delicious drag of skin caused sparks to shove away those unpleasant and unwanted thoughts. John just closed his eyes and let himself feel.
nulla dies sine linea
not a day without a line drawn.
Rodney was drifting pleasantly when John began fidgeting enough to snap him out of his sleep-induced haze. He turned and saw the soft glint of John's eyes. "You're thinking too loud."
"Go back to sleep." John's voice was stilted, quiet, and that was never a good thing.
"Jennifer won't get off work 'til eight. That's plenty of time to sleep after you finish telling me what's bothering you," Rodney said, hoping there was enough stubborn in his voice to get John to capitulate.
Sighing, John shifted again. "The SGC is ordering me to take my vacation on Earth."
"Are they worried about you going native or are they just evil pencil-pushing bastards who have a vendetta against lieutenant colonels who like surfing off-world? Or, is it something worse that I'm unable to concoct because I'm still, at least partially, asleep?"
"Some new time-waster on the IOA is arguing that any time spent in this galaxy is on the clock."
"And it's taken them over eight years to come up with this?" Rodney asked, incredulous. Though he suspected that there was more going on than just the vacation. John had a tendency to pull away from Rodney, particularly when they spent too much time together. Rodney hadn't figured out the calculations John used to determine how much was too much, but he suspected it was directly related to intimacy levels, not actual units of time. He didn't have much to go on, but, Rodney had over five years of being Sheppard's best friend and three more years experience since dealing with John's emotional moods, he would figure out the pattern, eventually. He was not a stupid man.
"You know the suits like inventing new hoops for us to jump through. Keeps us on our toes." John sounded resigned, now.
"If you're up for vacation, I should be, too," Rodney mused, wondering if this was in one of the many administration emails from Woolsey that he'd been ignoring.
"You should take Jennifer somewhere nice. Didn't you forget your anniversary this year?" John said, but there was a hint of command in his voice. The same tone he'd used with Rodney in their early days, and their first few times together. Rodney often wondered why John always called him on his fuckups with his wife, how he advised ways to get him out of his marriage doghouse. Rodney didn't figure his chances were great at finding out, either, so he just let John fret about Jennifer's feelings. Somebody had to.
"I didn't forget. It was just that there were at least three very important projects that required my attention on that day," Rodney huffed, leaving out the bit where John had sucked his brains out the night before and he'd woken up the next morning late and distracted.
"Sure you did," John agreed lightly, a counterpoint to the heaviness in the room.
Rodney wanted John to know how much he wanted a divorce.
About the fights he'd been having with Jennifer, and how he thought she'd leave him soon.
He wanted John to know that he secretly hoped Jennifer did leave him, because she didn't deserve this. In order to be what she deserved, Rodney would have to give up John-and didn't know how he could.
Rodney was terrified that if he lost her, he would lose them both.
"Well, I guess I should find out if she's got something planned," Rodney said a moment later, acquiescing. He felt John relax beside him. "Now, if we're done with this scintillating conversation, we should probably sleep."
John hummed in agreement, but didn't close his eyes. Rodney rolled his eyes, moved closer, and cupped his hand around John's cheek. Maybe they could wear themselves out enough that falling asleep was no longer a choice.
sine die
without a day
This thing with Rodney had to end.
It wasn't the first time John told himself this. His reasons for not following through just as he was about to tell Rodney were numerous; the day-week-year was stressful enough, there were important projects Rodney needed to focus on, there were performance reviews that needed his attention, he didn't want to hurt Rodney's feelings, it was meatloaf night.
He also knew reasoning after the fact was called rationalizing.
Whenever Rodney blithely told Jennifer about work projects he didn't have or movies he didn't watch, John had to fight not to cringe. Sometimes, it embarrassed him how good Rodney got at lying.
John tried to ignore the growing whispers from the gossip about Rodney and Jennifer being on the rocks, and the ever-persistent guilt that their marital problems were, in most ways, his fault. He avoided Teyla all the time and tried to quell the worry in the pit of his belly that Jennifer would leave Rodney. They'd get divorced and then Rodney would turn to him, expectant and needy and so very Rodney-and John would have to say no.
Because he couldn't say yes. Don't ask, don't tell, don't be out.
John couldn't be all the things Rodney deserved.
All he could give Rodney were the bits he already had, when no one was watching.
Rodney must know by now that there was a limit to what he could have from John. But the worry remained.
It was no use, John figured. He had to break up with Rodney now lest he give himself permission to procrastinate. He got to his feet, girded himself, and opened his door-only to find Rodney standing on the other side. One good look at him, and John could see every single thought he'd had mirrored on Rodney's face.
It was something of a relief to be on the same page. Rodney knew this couldn't go on, and he wouldn't make it hard for John when he finally said what needed saying.
Yet, John couldn't make himself open his mouth. He just stood there, staring at Rodney, willing him to be the strong one. Rodney stared back, stress lines around his eyes, mouth slanted in a frown, his shoulders slumped in defeat.
After what felt like an eternity, John swallowed the words he knew he should say, and stepped back, silently inviting Rodney inside. With visible relief, Rodney relaxed his posture, and walked in, moving toward the bed, not looking back
Not looking back either, John let the door close behind them.
ad extremum
to the end
Poll