Waking (1/1)
Title: Waking
Author: somehowunbroken
Fandom: SGA/SG1
Characters: John/Cam
Word Count: 900
Rating: PG
Notes: For camshaft22. Happy birthday, dear! Thanks to race_the_ace and stormylullabye for looking this through for me :)
Summary: John wakes first the morning after.
The sex is good - well, it’s kind of more than that; it’s pretty fucking fantastic, is what it is - and they both drop off to sleep without trouble. Cam’s a sprawler by nature, taking up all of the available space; John has learned to fit his body on the too-small mattress he has in Atlantis, so he curls up into himself and takes up very little room at all. They shift, though, in the night, so that by the time John comes awake at the crack of dawn, he’s on his back in the middle of the bed with Cam’s arm curling over his chest and a leg tossed across his own.
John very carefully closes his eyes and keeps his breathing steady. For all that Cam looks like a giant teddy bear right now, he’s as sharply trained as they come, and he’ll come awake soon if John doesn’t pretend he’s still sleeping. John’s pretty sure he’s not ready for that.
He’s a worrier by nature; this surprises exactly no one who knows him. He overanalyzes and prepares for every eventuality, even if that preparation takes scant seconds and seems spur-of-the-moment. It’s easier to have a contingency plan in place than to be forced to fly by the seat of your pants - he does that often enough in his day job, thanks, so he tries to avoid it in his personal life.
This, though, this hadn’t been planned, hadn’t been considered. There’s no contingency plan here, no back-up ideas, nothing to get him through this. This is sleeping with his best friend, probably fucking up the only normal, consistent thing he’s had in his life in a long time. John can see it now: when Cam wakes up it’ll be awkward, remembering what they’d done, what he’d said. Cam’s a good guy, so he won’t bring up the words John was gasping out as Cam had thrust into him. Hell, he’ll probably just offer John a shower and some breakfast. And then they’ll go into the Mountain together, just like they’d left last night, but then John will stay on base in his own shitty quarters and Cam will find reasons to not stop by as often. It won’t be hard; John won’t even begrudge it of him. Cam’s a busy guy.
It hurts, though, that he knows he’s tossed away his friendship for a little bit of comfort. It’s a bone-deep kind of ache, one that’s settled right in like it knows it’s home. But it’s been a year since Atlantis landed in the ocean, one year to the day yesterday, and John had just wanted to - forget, or remember, or just goddamned feel something. When Cam had offered pizza and beer and a game on DVR, John hadn’t thought twice before accepting; when Cam has bumped their shoulders together towards the end of the game, John had just turned and leaned and kissed him, easy as you please.
And yeah, John had said some things he probably wouldn’t have without the beer and the endorphins, and sure, Cam had murmured some of those feelings back to him, but things said in the heat of the moment can’t be held against you, right?
Even if you’d meant them.
The problem with it is that neither of them do casual - Cam’s the committed relationship type, and John’s pretty much married to his job, to his City. This, John knows, this was a mistake, and they’ll be lucky to salvage their friendship out of it.
John wonders idly if it would be better if he just left - but then, there’s no way to leave without waking Cam, and getting caught trying to sneak out would be more awkward than just dealing with whatever sort of morning after they’re headed into.
“Hey,” Cam mumbles against his chest, eyes still closed. “Stop thinking so hard up there, John. G’back to sleep.”
John tenses, can’t help it, and Cam’s eyes blink open slowly. “What’s wrong?”
“I-” John falters, presses his lips together, shakes his head, and Cam frowns a little before propping himself up on his elbow and leaning over.
“Stop worrying,” he says gently, a trace of a smile on his lips. “I might have been a little drunk, but I’m not regretting any of it if you’re not, okay?”
“It’s just-” And here, right here, this is part of why he doesn’t do relationships; the thoughts in his head don’t easily translate to words. He’s never quite been able to make himself heard in this sort of discussion.
“John,” Cam says, still in that soft, gentle tone. “If you want to get up and leave, if you want to pretend this didn’t happen…” He closes his eyes and lets out a breath. “We can do that. If it’s what you really want.”
“It’s not,” John replies before he can even think about the words. He’s pretty surprised to find that it’s even true. “I’m not - good at this,” he adds, and Cam smiles and lays his head back on John’s chest and presses a lazy kiss to the skin there.
“Start by going back to sleep,” Cam tells him, looping his arm firmly around John’s waist and settling back against his body.
“You’re sure?” John asks, because he has to, but Cam just smiles against his chest, eyes still closed.
“Sleep, John,” Cam repeats, so John closes his eyes and does.
Author: somehowunbroken
Fandom: SGA/SG1
Characters: John/Cam
Word Count: 900
Rating: PG
Notes: For camshaft22. Happy birthday, dear! Thanks to race_the_ace and stormylullabye for looking this through for me :)
Summary: John wakes first the morning after.
The sex is good - well, it’s kind of more than that; it’s pretty fucking fantastic, is what it is - and they both drop off to sleep without trouble. Cam’s a sprawler by nature, taking up all of the available space; John has learned to fit his body on the too-small mattress he has in Atlantis, so he curls up into himself and takes up very little room at all. They shift, though, in the night, so that by the time John comes awake at the crack of dawn, he’s on his back in the middle of the bed with Cam’s arm curling over his chest and a leg tossed across his own.
John very carefully closes his eyes and keeps his breathing steady. For all that Cam looks like a giant teddy bear right now, he’s as sharply trained as they come, and he’ll come awake soon if John doesn’t pretend he’s still sleeping. John’s pretty sure he’s not ready for that.
He’s a worrier by nature; this surprises exactly no one who knows him. He overanalyzes and prepares for every eventuality, even if that preparation takes scant seconds and seems spur-of-the-moment. It’s easier to have a contingency plan in place than to be forced to fly by the seat of your pants - he does that often enough in his day job, thanks, so he tries to avoid it in his personal life.
This, though, this hadn’t been planned, hadn’t been considered. There’s no contingency plan here, no back-up ideas, nothing to get him through this. This is sleeping with his best friend, probably fucking up the only normal, consistent thing he’s had in his life in a long time. John can see it now: when Cam wakes up it’ll be awkward, remembering what they’d done, what he’d said. Cam’s a good guy, so he won’t bring up the words John was gasping out as Cam had thrust into him. Hell, he’ll probably just offer John a shower and some breakfast. And then they’ll go into the Mountain together, just like they’d left last night, but then John will stay on base in his own shitty quarters and Cam will find reasons to not stop by as often. It won’t be hard; John won’t even begrudge it of him. Cam’s a busy guy.
It hurts, though, that he knows he’s tossed away his friendship for a little bit of comfort. It’s a bone-deep kind of ache, one that’s settled right in like it knows it’s home. But it’s been a year since Atlantis landed in the ocean, one year to the day yesterday, and John had just wanted to - forget, or remember, or just goddamned feel something. When Cam had offered pizza and beer and a game on DVR, John hadn’t thought twice before accepting; when Cam has bumped their shoulders together towards the end of the game, John had just turned and leaned and kissed him, easy as you please.
And yeah, John had said some things he probably wouldn’t have without the beer and the endorphins, and sure, Cam had murmured some of those feelings back to him, but things said in the heat of the moment can’t be held against you, right?
Even if you’d meant them.
The problem with it is that neither of them do casual - Cam’s the committed relationship type, and John’s pretty much married to his job, to his City. This, John knows, this was a mistake, and they’ll be lucky to salvage their friendship out of it.
John wonders idly if it would be better if he just left - but then, there’s no way to leave without waking Cam, and getting caught trying to sneak out would be more awkward than just dealing with whatever sort of morning after they’re headed into.
“Hey,” Cam mumbles against his chest, eyes still closed. “Stop thinking so hard up there, John. G’back to sleep.”
John tenses, can’t help it, and Cam’s eyes blink open slowly. “What’s wrong?”
“I-” John falters, presses his lips together, shakes his head, and Cam frowns a little before propping himself up on his elbow and leaning over.
“Stop worrying,” he says gently, a trace of a smile on his lips. “I might have been a little drunk, but I’m not regretting any of it if you’re not, okay?”
“It’s just-” And here, right here, this is part of why he doesn’t do relationships; the thoughts in his head don’t easily translate to words. He’s never quite been able to make himself heard in this sort of discussion.
“John,” Cam says, still in that soft, gentle tone. “If you want to get up and leave, if you want to pretend this didn’t happen…” He closes his eyes and lets out a breath. “We can do that. If it’s what you really want.”
“It’s not,” John replies before he can even think about the words. He’s pretty surprised to find that it’s even true. “I’m not - good at this,” he adds, and Cam smiles and lays his head back on John’s chest and presses a lazy kiss to the skin there.
“Start by going back to sleep,” Cam tells him, looping his arm firmly around John’s waist and settling back against his body.
“You’re sure?” John asks, because he has to, but Cam just smiles against his chest, eyes still closed.
“Sleep, John,” Cam repeats, so John closes his eyes and does.