Breakaway Part 3 (Cam/Lorne)
Author: Rubygirl29
Universe: Sg-1, SGA crossover
Genre: Slash Cam/Lorne
Rating: This part is rated R for language
Note: The F-302 program brings John Sheppard, Evan Lorne and Cameron Mitchell together for the first time. This story takes place prior to any of them joining SGC.
Breakaway Part 3
There was nothing, absolutely nothing, like doing barrel rolls at near supersonic speeds and rocketing up into the stratosphere until the only things you could see were the dark blue horizon ahead and the curve of the earth below. It was enough to bring out the cowboy in Cam. On this flight, it just happened that Lorne was his co-pilot, and he heard Evan’s chuckle low and warm in his ear. Adrenaline and something else coiled in Cam’s belly, but he was too psyched to give it a name. It could have been the result of pulling heavy Gs and the excitement of being airborne.
“Man, that is cool!” Cam exclaimed. “What a rush!”
“Just don’t rush us into a greasy spot on the desert floor,” Lorne said drily, and Cam had to laugh out of sheer exhilaration. When they got out of the cockpit and stood on solid ground, he and Lorne grinned at each other like idiots until Cam noticed Sheppard’s absence.” Where’s John?” he asked.
“Up there, I guess.” Lorne looked at the sky where the sound of powerful engines still roared overhead. “I thought we were all supposed to be down.”
“God, I hope that’s not him.” He took off his helmet, ran a hand through his sweat-dark hair.
“Colonel Mitchell, Major Lorne. Sirs, you’re needed for the debriefing,” they were reminded by an airman.
“Let’s not keep the man waiting,” Cam said. Lorne was still looking overhead. Cam tugged at his sleeve. “Sheppard’s a big boy, Evan. What he does isn’t your responsibility.”
“He’s also a friend.”
“Yeah,” Mitchell agreed. “C’mon.”
When they came out of a too long debrief, Sheppard was standing in the hall being dressed down by a bird Colonel. Cam caught an edge of anger in Sheppard’s responses, but at least it was controlled. He wanted to listen in on the conversation, but lingering in the hangar wasn’t an option. Lorne, at his side, was also straining to hear what had Sheppard riled up.
“It’s not our business,” Cam said, despite curiosity and concern.
“It is, if he’s our friend,” Lorne insisted.
Cam hated doing this, but as much as he was about being a free-spirit, he had to stick to regs as part of his duty. “No, major, it isn’t.”
Lorne looked like Cam had thrown a bucket of ice water on him when he brought rank into the equation. “Yes, sir.” He started walking away quickly. Cam cursed and followed though he didn’t say anything until they were out of the hangar and in the bright sun.
“Evan!”
Lorne halted mid-stride and slowly turned. “Sir?”
“Don't do that. It's just me - Cam - not Lieutenant Colonel Mitchell.”
“You pulled rank on me,” Lorne accused, the rebuke evidently still stinging like a slap.
Cam stood, hands on his hips and shook his head. “Yes, I did. You were about to commit career suicide by involving yourself in an argument between two other officers, probably coming in on the wrong side. Sure, John’s my friend, but I’m not sticking my head in where it doesn’t belong. Got it?”
“Is that all, sir?” Lorne was still seething, but at a simmer instead of a full boil.
“No. Sometimes it sucks being the boss.”
Lorne blinked and then raised a brow. “Sucks? Is that official Colonel terminology?”
Cam had to laugh. “Yeah. They teach you that in Colonel school. You have to pass a test and everything.” Evan’s mouth was curving now, and a flash of those dimples left Cam feeling like he had up in the 302. It was unsettling. “Buy you a beer?” he offered to counter what he couldn't, shouldn't be feeling.
“It might take more than one,” Lorne sighed. “What about Sheppard?”
Cam looked over. Whatever it had been, the confrontation seemed to have ended with the Colonel walking away and the flush of anger fading from John’s cheeks. “I’ll text him. Give him some time to decompress. I don’t think he wants to talk to anybody right now.” As if to confirm that, Sheppard slammed his fist into the wall and walked away. He didn't even see Cam and Lorne standing in the desert light.
“Come on,” Cam said to Evan. “Let’s get out of here and let him settle down.”
John met them at the bar an hour later. His hair was damp from a shower and his mouth was tense. He shredded napkins as they talked, drank a little too much beer and flirted with the forty-something waitress with a hint of desperation in his voice. The three of them, so comfortable with each other, were suddenly like awkward strangers.
Sheppard dug a coin out of his pocket. “I wonder if they have Johnny Cash on the jukebox,” he said, and wandered over, only slightly unsteady.
Lorne looked at his watch. “Listen, I gotta go. I signed up for an hour in the simulator. I'll see you back at the house.” He looked at Cam. “Get Sheppard home safely?”
“Sure. What are friends for?”
“See you later.” Lorne’s hand rested briefly on Cam’s shoulder. His steps were light and fast as he made his way through the crowded room.
“Yeah, later,” Cam whispered. He still felt the warmth of Evan's hand on his skin. He drank the rest of his beer a little too quickly and went over to the jukebox to see what was taking John so damn long to pick out a tune.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^
Cam was dozing in the recliner when Evan came back from his simulator session. He heard the door close, opened one eye, and sat up. “How was it?”
“After the real thing ... no big thrill. You want a beer or something?”
“Water. I’ve been keeping up with Sheppard in the beer department. I’ve had enough ... and so has he.” He stood up and stretched. “We got home, had a few more beers, and he passed out.”
“Did he talk?”
“Drunk, he’s about as chatty as he is sober.”
“So, nothing.”
“Nope.” He trailed after Lorne into the kitchen and leaned against the counter while Evan filled two glasses from the ice-maker and water in the refrigerator door. “I’m gonna miss that thing,” he said.
“Are you leaving?”
“Eventually, we all are. We’ve got, what? Two more weeks?”
“Do you have any idea what happens after that? You being a Colonel and all.”
“Nope. It’s a mystery.” He took the glass from Lorne. Evan’s fingers were warm. Cam pressed his over them, hard bones beneath his grip, warm flesh over the chilly glass. Without breaking the hold, he raised the glass and took a sip.
Lorne’s eyes narrowed. “What are you doing?”
Cam wasn't sure what he was doing, he only knew that it felt right to be doing it. Impulsively, he leaned in, tilted his head and brought his cool mouth to Lorne's. It was a remarkably chaste kiss, given the way his heart was pounding and the blood pooling in his groin. For a brief moment, heat flared between them like a match-strike. He set his hands on Lorne’s hips to bring him closer, felt him sway but resist. Cam wasn't certain enough to press the advantage, and Evan pulled away before Cam could even begin to analyze what would happen if he hadn’t.
“You've had too much to drink.” Evan’s voice was as cold as the ice in Cam’s glass.
“Oh, no. I haven't had enough,” Cam rasped. He reached for Lorne's shoulder, but his timing was off and his hand fell foolishly on empty air. “Evan!”
“What?” He was breathing hard, Cam saw the pulse shivering in his throat, the hurt and longing in his eyes.
“I know …”
“Christ! Know what? That I'm a fucking fairy? That rank has privileges? That DADT doesn't mean shit when the whole fucking world knows? What else can you do to me?” Fury blazed in Lorne's blue eyes and he shoved Cam away with both hands. “This better be off the record, sir!”
He left the kitchen, slamming the door, heedless of John sleeping down the hall, and not seeing Cam loose his battle with too much beer and shame as he vomited into the sink.
Part 4