Fic: Perhaps Speak, Kneel, Touch, Kiss

[erda]

Title: Perhaps Speak, Kneel, Touch, Kiss
Author: keefaq
Pairings: Todd/Sheppard, Katie/Rodney mentioned(no het), McKay/Sheppard
Disclaimer: Transformative work
Word Count: ~9500 words
Spoilers: Common Ground, Tao of Rodney, Submersion, Reunion, Tabula Rasa, The Seer, Miller’s Crossing, By All My Sins Remembered, Spoils of War, and Quarantine.
Beta:zelempa. Thanks for pushing me to re-write. I only hope I haven’t replaced one set of problems with a different one.
A/N: Title is from The Eve of St. Agnes. (Keats) Some dialogue taken verbatim from The Seer. Story takes place directly after Common Ground.

Summary: Wraith worshippers are made, not born.



Occasionally John let himself touch Rodney, just a little. They were spending a lot of time in Rodney’s lab late at night, which maybe wasn’t a good idea, but it beat being alone with his feelings about the wraith, or thinking about the gritty floor of the Genii cell.

He was just getting them both some fresh coffee when he felt Rodney come up behind him, impatient to retrieve his cup. He bent down to snag a clean spoon from the bottom shelf, and Rodney was so close they were almost touching, his smell mingling with the similar smell coming from the coffeemaker. He glanced over his shoulder and caught Rodney staring at him, alive and intense against the mechanized hum of the lab around them. He had a sudden heady thought of what it would feel like to press back (they were only inches apart) and rub himself wantonly all over Rodney’s body. The impulse was so strong he could feel the hair on his arms and the back of his neck stand up and he almost dropped the spoon. He tried to step forward away from Rodney but he was too close to the coffee maker to put any distance between them. Rodney seemed to realize he was crowding him and took a step back, enabling him to turn and hold out the coffee as if nothing had happened.

The flirting was getting out of hand, and John didn't think his self-control had been so weak back before the wraith had fed on him. When the wraith returned his life, McKay was on the mark with his complaint that John looked younger than ever. He’d felt younger and stronger, and his natural optimism, blunted by all the blows the Pegasus galaxy had dealt him, was reborn. Beckett had given him a clean bill of health.

During the day everything went along as usual. But several times John had awakened at night gasping, images of the wraith spilling out of his head, alien body pressed hard against him on the ground while the unexpected rush of the reverse feeding blew back through the center of his chest. His cock would soften as he woke, imagery going from seductive to revolting. He’d stagger to his feet and sometimes barely make it to the bathroom before his stomach rejected its contents, then sink down on the floor to rest his head on his knees, waiting for the tremors to pass, reminding himself that it wasn’t real. They were just bad dreams. Particularly revolting ones.

It wasn’t so strange to associate regaining his life with sexual imagery, and John had had other perverted dreams, but these left him feeling unclean. He’d been taking long, long showers during which he didn’t think about the ecstasy of his life force rushing back into him. He’d been not thinking about it for a while, but it was getting harder.

John found himself hovering too close again and Rodney pushed him out of the way impatiently, just as he’d done lots of times. But when John stepped back he was against the wall, and his breath hitched as he stared at the palm of Rodney’s hand pressed firmly into the center of his chest. Rodney looked down, thankfully misinterpreted his expression and stepped back awkwardly. “Sorry, god, John, I’m sorry.”

He averted his gaze before Rodney could see anything else on his face. “That’s ok, it’s nothing.” Realizing he was clutching Rodney’s forearm he let go, and swiped his hand down over his chest, trying to calm his nerves which were tingling with arousal.

Rodney grabbed his shoulder, which, god, was shaking a little. The moment was beyond awkward. He could hardly control the impulse to grab Rodney and kiss him, but since Rodney was probably partially correct in thinking he was having some kind of flashback to the wraith feeding, it would be a very weird thing to do. Rodney moved him aside. “You’re in my way, here, could you move?” He was probably going for brisk, but his voice sounded strangled. John took a breath, moved aside and the moment passed.

Rodney started shutting down his machines. “I’m a little tired of working so late all the time,” he said. “What say we call it a night?”

John nodded reluctantly. He didn’t look forward to going back to his room. An unwelcome vision of the Genii cell always seemed to be waiting for those quiet moments alone. “We could, uh, watch a movie or something?” he suggested.

Rodney nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “I have some more episodes of MacGyver.”

“Great.”

They usually sat side by side on Rodney’s bed to watch, with John balancing the laptop on his knees. But Rodney was sprawled sideways on the bed propped up on one arm, and John, in a sudden fit of recklessness, positioned his back against Rodney’s chest. He figured Rodney had only two choices now, accept the obvious invitation or squirm away in a fit of awkwardness. He was surprisingly okay with either choice. He started the video player up.

Rodney did squirm around a little, but then surprised him by reaching down and grasping his hip. He gave it a gentle, affectionate little squeeze and then let his hand rest there firmly, holding him in place. John looked down where Rodney’s blunt fingers lay against his skin. It was a gesture oddly more protective than sexual. It made John remember that one of the things he loved best about Rodney was his unpredictability. How many times had his ability to grasp an unexpected opportunity and think outside the box saved lives? He settled back against Rodney’s chest contentedly, feeling a little drowsy as they watched the show together, Rodney alternately advising, warning and berating MacGyver in a low voice near his ear.

He went back to his room feeling more relaxed than he had since the wraith had fed on him, removed from the vision of himself collapsed alone on that cold cell floor, body aching with age. But the reprieve was temporary. The bad dreams continued. Sometimes the images of the wraith got mixed up with images of McKay, which was even more disturbing than the wraith alone. He started to wonder if pushing away his feelings for McKay was actually making things worse. Like maybe if he had some sort of normal sex life he wouldn’t be plagued by all these revoltingly vivid wet dreams about life sucking aliens.

Rodney had become his default location a long time ago, but it was no longer enough just to be in the same room with him; he wanted to be closer and closer, and to touch more and more. Being with Rodney was oddly relaxing. He never fell into bragging and babbling mode when they were alone anymore, and that was...well, it made John feel privileged. Rodney was everything the wraith was not, and being near him wiped out the dirty feeling the dreams gave him, so he tried to stay close without getting too close. He had to keep reminding himself that he’d long since decided he couldn’t risk acting on his feelings. Getting involved with Rodney that way could get very intense and messy.

He’d been asleep less than an hour when he woke from the wraith nightmare clutching his cock, so close to coming he felt a momentary regret as the dream sensations faded, then gave a cold shudder and got up, pulling his clothes on quickly. He needed to get away, far away from where his brain seemed determined to go. He could still remember the dream clearly this time, but the erotic feeling of being pressed up against the wraith was gone.

He opened his door and jogged down the dimly lit hallway. He knew where he wanted to be, and his distress at the dreams had worn away all the very good reasons he had for not going there.

He was probably projecting when he felt that there was an eagerness to the way Rodney’s door snicked open under his touch. Rodney was awake, sitting at his desk typing away furiously, and he spun around in surprise. “What?” he demanded impatiently, but then he must have seen something in John’s expression because his voice went soft. “What’s the matter?”

“Hard question,” he said. Rodney’s mere presence drained some of the urgency out of him. He knew he could get Rodney where he wanted him, and he leaned back, deliberately letting his shirt ride up and smiling when he saw Rodney notice. He had an urge to pounce on Rodney, but that wasn’t the way it worked for him ever. He licked his lips suggestively. “Come on,” he said instead. “You’re the smart one.”

Rodney’s eyes widened. “What?”

“I think you know what,” he said, “or do you just want me to beg?” He pulled the lube out of his pocket and looked down at it, scraping his fingernail around the cap, slouching a little further so he could look up coyly at Rodney, who had gotten up and taken a step toward him.

Rodney came closer, reaching out and taking the lube from him, inspecting it as if he had no idea what it was, which was just bullshit. “Okay,” he said, “What’s going on?”

He closed the distance between them with a half step, put his hand on the back of Rodney’s neck, leaned in and whispered, “You’re going to fuck me,” making it a statement, and Rodney sucked in a hard breath and pulled back to stare at him. He wet his lips again, pushing down his doubts and letting some of his real desire show, just a little, before putting his expression back on casual.

“Hey,” Rodney said, and for a minute it seemed like he would try to lighten the mood with a joke, but then he said, “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” he said. He couldn’t pull off the sly teasing tone he wanted and it came out tentative and breathless.

Rodney smiled. “Just like that, huh? Four years of friendship, then out of the blue: let’s fuck?”

He thought he should probably feel insulted at the way Rodney was ridiculing his attempt to be seductive, but he found himself smiling back a bit sheepishly. “All the flirting we’ve been doing, I’m thinking it’s not that out of the blue. I’m tired of thinking about it, and I’m tired of jerking off alone. Aren’t you?”

Rodney kissed hard and dirty, not holding anything back, and he fucked the same way. It was just what John needed to banish all the disturbing images of the wraith back from the edge of his consciousness.

Afterwards they lay side by side catching their breath. “Does this have something to do with the ordeal with the wraith?”

John, filled with regret, couldn’t bring himself to an outright lie. “Maybe a little,” he said, “but I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

“Is this a one off?” Rodney asked, his eyes on the ceiling, and there was nothing in his voice to bridge the distance between them.

John felt his stomach churning. “No,” he whispered, and then more firmly, “no, it’s not.” He rolled over to face Rodney. “But this is all there is, I can’t-”

Rodney stopped him with a shockingly gentle kiss. “Okay.”

He felt better, calmer for a minute, but Rodney never knew when to shut up. “Are you sure you’ve done this before?” he asked, “Because you were awfully tight.”

That was so not what he wanted to hear. Now was not the time for Rodney to remind him that the wraith had renewed his body. He didn’t want the wraith intruding here, too. He got up and started pulling his clothing on, fingers clumsy with a rage that had nothing to do with Rodney, who was always up front with him, and was out the door just as Rodney was asking, “What? What did I say?”

He didn’t exactly avoid Rodney over the next few days, but he made sure they weren’t alone for any length of time. He knew he’d drift back into the circle of safety Rodney projected, but he needed to pull himself together first. When the dreams returned he didn’t hesitate to chase Rodney down in his quarters again. He’d said it wasn’t a one off and he’d meant it.

Rodney, thank god, didn’t try to talk to him about what was going on, even though he clearly knew something was wrong. He leaned over John and stroked his fingers into him carefully, gently. It made him forget the hard frenzied revolting dreams. He lay back and relaxed, determined to enjoy the sensations Rodney was evoking. Rodney loved him, he’d known that for a long time. Rodney was good and safe and capable. He closed his eyes. He felt a little twinge of conscience at the way he was using Rodney as a placeholder, but Rodney was getting something he wanted out of it, too.

He wondered if the wraith would guide him gently onto his stomach the way Rodney was, or would he shove him down roughly? Would he take his time entering him slowly like Rodney, or would he push in quickly? Would the wraith grip his hip hard and pant over him, moving roughly, saying his name over and over, and then grab him with both hands, using the hand that had fed off him, the hand that had ripped his life out of him and then filled him back up, to jerk him off while he fucked him? He was scrambling against the bed, overwhelmed with sensation and Rodney had stopped moving, clutching him tightly as they both came.

He rolled over and. put his hand around Rodney’s neck so he could pull him in and kiss him gently. Rodney opened his mouth and John caressed him with his tongue, spending a long time just attending to Rodney, trying to push away the feeling that he’d taken advantage of him. He didn’t have much to offer and he was aching with the desire to give back something. He stayed until he was sure Rodney was asleep.

The bad dreams slowly faded away, and he felt closer to Rodney than he’d ever been to anyone. Everything was going fine until Rodney stumbled onto the ascension machine.

Standing in the infirmary watching Rodney die was revelatory. He looked around appalled at the small group of people gathered at Rodney’s bedside. Elizabeth, Teyla and Ronon. Beckett was probably the closest thing Rodney had to a friend. And himself. He was utterly useless. He might as well have been miles away. Rodney had no one really. No wife, no children, no one to hold him as he faced death. He wondered briefly what had happened to that nice botanist woman Rodney had been dating, but he knew he was what had happened. Rodney had stopped seeing her because he was spending all his time fucking his closeted best friend. Rodney had wanted to have children someday; he might have already started a family if John hadn’t been standing in the way.

Afterwards, when everything was back to what passed for normal, he thought about it some more. He’d started up with Rodney while he was freaked out about the wraith feeding on him. It was a reaction to a traumatic event, and he hadn’t thought it through.

He’d prevented Rodney from forming a real relationship, a relationship he didn’t have to keep a secret, with someone that could be there for him in a way John never would be.

He started spending a little more time with Teyla and Ronon, and even with Lorne and some of the other military personnel, trying to gradually distance himself from Rodney, but that only made Rodney look hurt. He should have known a subtle withdrawal wasn’t going to work, nothing subtle ever worked with Rodney, so he invited him over to his quarters to talk, much as he hated the idea.

Rodney came, and he was all freshly showered and shaved, wearing some fucking stupid cologne, his expression bright open and hopeful. But after a moment his face went closed and dark, and he looked so terrified that John just wanted to grab him and kiss the self-doubt out of him. He reminded himself that Rodney really liked women and wanted children, and as long as John was stringing him along, he would never pursue that dream. John would never be the family Rodney deserved. He was just a hot, illicit and slightly sordid affair, and that was all he had to offer.

Rodney stared at John for a moment, then gave a little knowing nod and said, “Ok, you can stop agonizing over what you want to say, I get it. It’s not like I haven’t been here before; you don’t need to explain. It was great, it was fun, over now; that’s fine. I never expected this to last as long as it did. Just, try not to be too weird about it, ok? I really don’t want to lose my place on the team.” Before he could formulate a response to that Rodney had spun around and walked out.

That was the end of that. Rodney started dating Katie again. He hardly ever mentioned her in front of John, and he never, ever tried to bring her to their lunch table or to team night. John was grateful for that, because it hurt a lot more than he expected. He tried not to hate Katie much; she was really a nice person and she cared about Rodney. She could do things for Rodney and be there for Rodney in ways he never could.

Rodney still spent a lot of time with John, and he was relieved that they were able to preserve their friendship. He didn’t think he could stand to give up Rodney completely. They played games together and got in scrapes together and it was okay for a long time. He still remembered that when the wraith had leaned over to finish him, his main regret was that he would never know what it felt like to kiss Rodney, to touch Rodney, to make love to Rodney. That he hadn’t even had the courage to try, just once, to get what he wanted. Now he knew, and he held those memories close, even though they hurt sometimes. No one could take that away from him.

He had a bad moment when they ran up against the wraith queen on the underwater drilling station, but there was nothing new there, no attraction at all. It was the same as the last time he’d confronted a queen. She could force him to his knees, but he felt nothing for her except rage and disgust. Teyla was more compromised than he was.

Life went on. John was lonely. Same old.

He was a little nervous around Ronon after he found out his old friends were wraith worshippers, that they had gone from hating the wraith to betraying their own people, but Ronon didn’t look at him suspiciously, and he didn’t feel any different. He wasn’t like them at all; he couldn’t ever be like them.

****

He woke up under the cold lights in the infirmary. His memories were all back, but his brain felt like it was moving at half speed. It took him a while to notice that only Ronon and Teyla were with him. “Where’s McKay?” he asked, and when Teyla patted his arm without immediately answering his mouth went dry.

“John,” she finally said. “He’s with Katie. She was very strongly affected by the fever.”

It hurt like a fire in his belly to know that Rodney was with her, but he didn’t let it show, not even a little. Of course Rodney would be at Katie’s bedside in a crisis. Even when they had been involved he couldn’t have hovered over John in the infirmary holding his fucking hand or whatever. It was childish to even think about it.

****

A haze hung over the planet, or maybe the fuzziness was in his mind. Wraith all around, fucking wraith, but there was one there that was different, his wraith. He could feel a weakness behind his knees, a lack of oxygen in his throat, and he clutched his P90 desperately, over-compensating because he could not afford to feel what he was feeling. Even with years of practice in dissembling he couldn’t help an apologetic shrug when the wraith looked so disappointed in him. He wondered for the first time what the wraith felt. He came right up to them, unarmed, completely sure he wouldn’t be shot. John had to turn away, letting Ronon escort the wraith back to Atlantis. He didn’t want to see the wraith and think things like calm, brave, intelligent, reliable.

He made sure Ronon was beside him when he went down to the holding cell to talk to the wraith, hoping Ronon’s suspiciousness would counteract any weakness in himself. Was he imagining that the wraith was being extremely reasonable and conciliatory? It scared the hell out of him that he wasn’t sure.

“I require your help,” the wraith said. Not a request, and his gaze swept down John’s body like he owned it. “We worked together once before.”

“Doesn't mean I wanna do it again.” But god help him, he did want to do it again, and he suspected the wraith knew exactly what he was feeling, exactly how much he wanted to unlock the cell and throw himself onto him, touch him and be touched. His body was stiff with the need to restrain himself. Ronon would surely have seen something of what he was feeling if he hadn’t been concentrating all his attention directly on the wraith.

The wraith, on the other hand, paid no attention at all to Ronon. He was as intently focused on John as John was on him. “You will.” The wraith’s calm certainty made him feel cold. It suppressed a shiver which he hoped was dread, not desire; revulsion, not attraction.

He’d always thought the wraith were repulsive. He couldn’t tell if this one really was more attractive, or if it was part of the enzyme casting its spell over him. It seemed to have started even before the reverse feeding. Was it something to do with being fed on? Had Gall felt something of this; was self disgust part of his desire to end his life? Had Colonel Everett felt this? Or was that early feeling simply a result of isolation, shared captivity and a common enemy?

He admitted to himself what he’d been denying, that Kolya had broken him, that he’d given up on the floor of that cell, an old man with no hope of regaining his position on Atlantis, all chance of ever acting on his feelings for Rodney gone. If the doors to the cell had come open at that point, he wouldn’t have even tried to get up. The wraith had pulled him back from that despair with his talk of escape, made the terrible feeling of isolation bearable. He couldn’t deny anymore how powerfully attracted he was. If Ronon hadn’t been there, he didn’t know if he’d have been able to walk away. He was no longer asking himself if he was compromised. It was now only a matter of how much.

When they detected the wraith’s ship heading toward Atlantis, he felt a stab of pain worthy of a betrayed lover and rushed back down to the cell in a rage. “What did you do?” he demanded coldly.

The wraith’s eyes widened innocently. He actually looked hurt. “What are you referring to?”

He wanted to believe the wraith’s explanations so badly it was terrifying. He felt like he could read the emotions in the wraith, and he wondered if he was fooling himself, seeing what he wanted to see, being manipulated. He froze when the wraith said, “We need each other,” his voice low and intimate. He was sure he wasn’t imagining the subtext under the words. If the guards hadn’t been there, he might well have gone into the cell. He had to exert all his self control to stop the way his eyes kept roaming over the wraith’s body and keep his thoughts from going to places that ought to disgust him.

He left before he could do anything he might regret. When Woolsey and Carter went down to speak to the wraith, he knew it seemed odd that he didn’t accompany them, but he was afraid to have Carter’s discerning eye on him, on them.

It had become imperative that he come clean about his reactions to the wraith. He couldn’t continue to pretend nothing was wrong. He found Colonel Carter on the outside balcony of the control room and steeled himself to tell her what was happening to him, enough so that she would at least stop consulting him.

“ The other hive ship'll be here soon,” he said.

“I know. You should get down to the Chair Room.”

“So we've decided to take ‘em out?”

“Right now, I'm having a hard time deciding anything.”

“Know what the problem is?” He was going to tell her that he was well and truly compromised, operating with half his brain under the wraith’s subtle control and that she needed to take him completely out of the chain of command for the sake of the city and the people of Pegasus. But instead he found himself spouting vague platitudes in an attempt to say basically nothing. Soon he was advising her again, and he knew he was using his knowledge of her character to slant things in favor of the wraith. He told himself it was ultimately up to her and he wasn’t saying anything that wasn’t perfectly true, but he couldn’t completely convince himself.

Once the crisis had passed, he went back over everything he’d said and done, and he told himself it was all perfectly reasonable. It had been okay to trust the wraith, and the city was safe.

It did seem that as he was dogging Rodney, Ronon was dogging him, but he told himself that was just a natural progression of Ronon’s protectiveness toward the team. If Ronon suspected something was off with him, he didn’t speak up about it, and John worked at acting normal. Still he didn’t argue when Ronon insisted on accompanying them to earth to search for Jeannie.

Once they brought the wraith to earth to help save Jeannie he found himself more confused than ever. He thought he could feel the wraith’s hunger inside his own body, and he found himself worrying about it long before the wraith collapsed. His thoughts kept circling around the feeling he had that the wraith was more important than a lot of the humans on the base, and he knew that he’d never had thoughts like that before. Taking Wallace to the wraith felt so good and right and satisfying. He stood close while the wraith fed, and when he was finished and Wallace fell onto the floor, and the wraith’s hand, his feeding hand, brushed lightly down his arm in gratitude he stumbled away from the touch as if it hurt, as if he was disgusted. And he was disgusted. He’d never gotten so hard, so fast, and that shouldn’t happen. It was sick and wrong. The wraith met his eyes and grimaced, then shrugged. “I am sorry, JohnSheppard,” he said in that low, growling voice.

Only the scuffle of Rodney trying to get into the lab allowed him to pull out from the wraith’s searing gaze and keep him from falling to his knees or touching or …he didn’t want to think about what else was going through his mind. He felt himself getting almost hysterical between the pull of his feelings for Rodney and his body’s unwilling reaction to the wraith. He turned away from them both, his voice clipped and hard. He stumbled over the story he’d carefully constructed about the wraith attacking Wallace.

Later Rodney’s gratitude made him feel sick with self loathing. If Rodney knew how strongly he’d been drawn to feed the wraith, he’d never understand, never forgive him. To sit and accept Rodney’s gratitude was unbearable, but he couldn’t tell anyone what had really gone on.

What could he possibly say? “Sorry, Rodney, it’s not that I don’t care or anything. I’m just distracted by my sick, twisted connection with the wraith. See, I can feel when he’s hungry and it makes me hurt like nothing I’ve ever felt. And every time I get near him I’m so overcome with lust it takes a good hour alone with my dick before I can think straight again.” Yeah, he wasn’t sharing any of that ever.

Once back home he promised himself he would stay away from the wraith, but he wanted to stay near Rodney, and the wraith was more often than not in the lab working on the coding with Rodney now. Rodney would ask him to take the wraith back to his cell at night, and he didn’t have any sensible reason to refuse.

They were getting lax in supervising the wraith. They no longer kept guards outside his cell or restrained his arms, and night after night as they walked back to the cell together John found his eyes following the wraith, fascinated by his relaxed stride, his gaze drawn again and again to his freely swinging arms, especially the feeding arm. He wanted to feel that hand on him again, and that was absolutely fucking crazy. He didn’t know who or what he was anymore.

He was walking closer and closer to the wraith every night, and he was taking detours to make the walk longer, stopping to show the wraith any innocuous thing he could think of. One night they left the lab later than usual. The corridor lights were dimmed and they walked slowly. John kept sneaking glances at the wraith’s face. He wondered not for the first time what it was like for the wraith, cut off from his own kind, dependant on their good will, locked up every night alone. He didn’t seem to resent their mistrust despite the fact that he had kept faith with them all along, never giving them any reason to treat him as an enemy. John’s eyes went again to the wraith’s hand, watching the way the wraith brushed it lightly along the wall as they walked. It made him feel breathless no matter how careful he was not to think about touching. He tried to read the wraith’s expression, couldn’t tell if he was imagining what he thought he saw there.

In his room alone that night he thought about it some more. Was the wraith feeling anything like he was feeling? Was he aching to reach out and touch? He undressed and started stroking his hard cock. He wondered if the wraith jerked off. Maybe he was doing it right now, thinking about John, about kissing him, pressing up against him. Maybe the feeding process was erotic to the wraith. Maybe he thought about feeding off him when he jerked off. He thought about how easy it would be to touch the wraith on the long walk back to the cell at night. To run his hands under the wraith’s clothing, touching as much as he wanted. The wraith would pin him up against the wall, grab his face and kiss him, run his feeding hand down, open his pants and jerk him off there in the corridor. He squeezed himself almost to the point of pain, filled with revulsion before he’d even finished coming.

He’d never worried about what he jerked off to before, but he’d never had so much trouble drawing lines between fantasy and reality before, either.

The walks back to the wraith’s cell at night were getting longer and longer. John couldn’t resist his desire to spend more time in the wraith’s company, and he detoured to any place he thought they could walk that wouldn’t compromise security. He thought about showing the wraith the botany labs, but botany now meant Katie Brown to him, and her name always started the little voice in his head, saying over and over again, in tones ranging from resigned to incredulous, ‘This is what Rodney wants, this is who Rodney wants.’

One night he led the wraith down a corridor they’d only recently discovered and into a room filled with small fountains. The fountains drew water from the ocean around them and cast it into the air, each one a different color, some of them multicolored. It was quite beautiful and the walkways through the fountains were dotted with benches where one could sit quietly and observe.

He touched the wraith’s arm lightly to direct him down another path. His stomach fluttered nervously. The wraith didn’t seem to react to the touch, and it made him bolder. He wrapped his hand around the wraith’s bicep and pulled him toward one of the fountains, his heart pounding. “Is there any way to get you out of my head?” he asked.

The wraith was standing so close that he could feel his breath against his skin. “I am sorry,” he said. “It was the only way to keep you alive. I couldn’t kill you.” The wraith touched him, lightly, running the back of his hand down the side of his face and he leaned into it with a gasp.

Anyone could come along and find them here, practically embracing, and he just didn’t care. The wraith’s hand was on the back of his neck and the wraith’s mouth came down hard on his. He opened his mouth and moaned, grabbing at the hard material covering the wraith’s chest, brushing one hand down between the wraith’s legs and, feeling a thrill at the hardened flesh there. The wraith grabbed his hand and used his superior strength to push him back against the wall, leaning close to him, his measured breath brushing across John’s forehead contrasting with the short harsh panting he couldn’t control. He used his other hand, the feeding hand, to stroke John’s erection through his pants, and John would have lost his balance if the wraith hadn’t leaned forward, pinning him to the wall.

The wraith dropped his head and dragged his lips lightly across John’s neck, then pressed his legs apart with his knee, and John rubbed himself wantonly against the wraith’s thigh. A shudder went through the wraith and John felt a jolt of elation at the response he was getting. The wraith drew back slightly. “This feeling…this…attraction,” he said, his voice even lower and rougher than usual. “It will fade in time unless we…unless I…” he placed his hand on John’s chest. “This is how it works,” he explained. “I feed from you, then you bring me some other prey and I use that life force to replace what I’ve taken from you. It will make you strong, stronger than before. And it will draw us closer together every time we do it.”

His chest was on fire where the wraith was touching him. He wanted it, wanted the feeding, craved it. It wasn’t that he’d forgotten the pain, but the pain was trumped by the stronger memory of something he supposed was an effect of the enzyme but felt like a triple dose of amyl nitrite inhaled at the point of orgasm. He pushed up against the wraith’s hand and felt his cock jerk when the wraith pushed back. He recognized the tingling, pleasurable sensation that preceded a feeding. He rubbed his cock roughly against the wraith’s leg. The wraith let go of his hand and wrapped his arm around the small of his back, pushing forward with his knee, and John wrapped one hand around the wraith and grabbed his dick through his pants with the other, shaking through a powerful orgasm, soaking through the front of his pants. The wraith stared intently into John’s face before flicking a glance down at his feeding arm still pressed in feeding position to John’s chest. He shook his head slightly. “You don’t truly want this,” he finally said.

John leaned his forehead against the wraith’s shoulder, and pulled in a shaky breath. “No,” he said, though he didn’t really know if he did or not. Despite the powerful orgasm he still somehow felt aroused. He wanted to get away from the wraith; he wanted to scream or break something. He wanted to lie down in the corridor and let the wraith fuck him through he floor.. He wanted to kill the wraith. Jesus, he fucking wanted the wraith to feed off him again so much. “Can you read my mind?” he asked.

“No,” the wraith said. “But I can feel what you feel, just as you feel what I feel.”

The wraith dropped his arm away slowly, caressing John lightly from chest to thigh, and stepped back, one arm still keeping John from sliding down onto the floor. He braced his arm on the wall by John’s head and kissed him gently, almost chastely. John was noting somewhere how it felt, how a wraith could be gentle and tender and patient. “I know what you think, but you don’t understand how it could be,” the wraith said. “You wouldn’t be a slave. That’s not how it works.” He sighed and stepped back.

John reached up, brought his mouth against the wraith’s mouth and pressed his tongue inside briefly before breaking off to nuzzle along the wraith’s neck a moment. “No,” he said, and this time he was sure. He pushed against the wraith, pushed him back against the bench, pushed until the wraith sat, then slid down onto his knees. He pressed his face against the wraith’s groin, smiled when he felt the hardness still there. He felt a surge of power that he could make the wraith feel this.

But the wraith pulled him back up and onto the bench. “If you truly want this to stop,” he said. “Then you must stop touching me, and you must definitely not bring me prey again.”

He nodded reluctantly, willed himself to calm down. “We should go. Before someone else comes along and see us.”

The most horrifying thing was the way he no longer felt so horrified.

****

He was eating lunch a few days later when Rodney plunked his try down and sat across from him. “Where have you been keeping yourself?” Rodney demanded.

He shrugged. “Been busy.” Rodney looked more tired than usual. He wondered why Rodney spent so much time working. He had a girlfriend now, a very nice one, but he didn’t seem to spend much time with her, and he didn’t seem any happier than he had when they had been sneaking around together. Really he’d seemed happier then, always snapping off little sarcastic putdowns and looking so pleased with himself, waving his arms around dramatically, putting on a show and loving it. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Rodney really wound up like that. Rodney seemed to be in a slump. “Hey, what’s been happening with you and Katie?” he asked.

Rodney picked up his sandwich and peered at it suspiciously “Uh,” he put the sandwich down and shoved a forkful of some strange vegetable mix into his mouth. “Nothing really.”

All along he’d been thinking it was selfish to keep Rodney for himself, that preventing Rodney from having a wife and kids was preventing Rodney from ever being happy. Now he noticed Rodney seemed anything but happy with his freedom. He seemed as miserable as John felt. “Rodney,” he said. He leaned forward.

Rodney put his fork down and turned his full blue attention on John.

“Never mind,” he said, because the middle of a crowded lunchroom was no place for this kind of epiphany.

That night he stopped off in the lab and it was surprisingly easy to bully Rodney into taking a break. He didn’t argue or even ask where they were going, just followed John so meekly it was alarming. John led him back to his quarters and Rodney didn’t say a word. He closed and locked the door, then closed the distance between them, standing right up against Rodney, still not sure what he wanted to say, though he knew what he wanted to do. Rodney was still silent, leaning slightly away from him, looking unusually patient.

After a long moment he cupped Rodney’s face in his hands and kissed him gently, but Rodney pulled away from him and stepped back. “What’s changed?” he asked. He sounded merely curious.

Rodney stepped back further, but John followed. He leaned his forehead against the wall, his cheek almost brushing against Rodney’s. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I made a mistake.” He took a deep breath and stealed himself for the tirade of Rodney’s indignation, which if it burned bright, at least tended to burn out very quickly. But instead of berating him, Rodney huffed as if he was amused, and put his arms around John, and that was that.

John was determined to make it up to Rodney, and he started by dropping to his knees and opening Rodney’s pants, pulling out his cock, which was soft, but only for a minute. He wanted to give Rodney the best blowjob he’d ever had, and Rodney seemed ok with that plan. He took his time, opening his own pants and touching himself just a little, putting most of his attention on Rodney because he loved doing this, and he hadn’t had nearly enough opportunities in his life to do it with someone he trusted, some place where he didn’t have to rush.

Rodney was touching his shoulders, his hair, his face with little fleeting caresses. He moaned as he ran two of his fingers into one side of John’s mouth and then felt along his cock as John slid his mouth up and down the shaft. Something about having Rodney almost jerking off into his mouth made John’s cock jerk in sympathy and he was no longer interested in going slow. He took Rodney’s cock and fingers all the way in, pressing his face into flesh, sucking as hard as he could. Rodney made a little intense gasp and came hard, wrapping one hand into John’s hair and pressing him close, almost smothering him for a moment before letting go.

John leaned back gasping and coughing a little, his hand jerking his own cock roughly. Rodney pulled on his arm and he staggered stiffly to his feet. Rodney stopped the desperate noises he was making by kissing him and covered the hand he was using to jerk off with his own broad, capable hand to help things along. He gave up trying to say anything coherent and came all over both of them.

John had to work at concealing his glee when Rodney suddenly came out of his slump and started spinning the whole blob of replicator idea out of his magical hands. Rodney as usual went too far with the whole Friendly Replicator Android, but John felt a little smug even while he was yelling about that, and wisely didn’t share the conceit that he was personally responsible for Rodney getting back his game.

He stayed away from the wraith as much as he could and he was relieved to feel his little wraith fantasies lose some of their power over him. He was still mightily attracted, but no longer overwhelmed, not feeling out of control or that his judgment was warped. It helped that the few times they were alone, the wraith treated him with meticulous courtesy. It was perfectly reasonable that he would feel protective of someone who’d allied himself with them over and over. Still, he was glad when the wraith left to join his fleet.

The whole wraith incident gradually faded into just another lovely Pegasus experience he never wanted to be reminded of and he was confident that he was his normal self again, actually better than normal since he had Rodney back. Without the distraction of worrying about his personal problems he could concentrate on the slightly more important problem of the war with the wraith.

The morning of the day that Rodney picked up the wraith tracking device they woke up wrapped around each other in a way that was becoming familiar. Rodney was lying on his back with his eyes open, looking worried. “I have to deal with Katie,” he said. “This isn’t fair to her. I have to make a choice and stick to it.”

“Yeah,” was about all he could say to that.

Rodney rolled his eyes. “Look, I already picked you twice now. I just want to know how long until you break up with me again.”

“I said I was sorry.” That sounded kind of ridiculous, but he didn’t know what else to say. It really was up to Rodney to choose. Katie seemed like a much surer bet.

It was a relief to meet up with the wraith again and discover that, while he had a genuine liking for him, the sexual compulsion was gone. He even felt comfortable giving the wraith a name, something he hadn’t been able to do before. If he was a tiny bit flattered to see how glad Todd was to see him, it didn’t affect his judgment, and they didn’t have any time to worry about it anyway. The rush was on to destroy the cloning facility.

The familiar adrenaline rush of ideas bouncing between Rodney and him carried them through the crisis as always. He ordered everyone to run for the puddlejumper. As the wraith turned to head toward the dart he grabbed John’s arm hard and pulled him into the corridor. There was no time for this, but the wraith (Todd, he reminded himself) looked so desperate that John leaned forward impatiently with a small nod of permission and the wraith kissed him so hard he almost lost his balance. He let it go on for the briefest moment before pulling back. “You’ve got to go, now,” he said and the wraith went. John spun around to head for the jumper and froze, because Rodney was standing at the bend of the corridor staring, and his expression was all sorts of very bad, going rapidly from hurt through furious and straight on to disgusted and horrified.

It was all Rodney’s own fault, John thought furiously, because he couldn’t follow a direct order to run for the puddlejumper when he was told to. There was no time to explain even if he’d had an explanation, so John just shoved Rodney back down the corridor and took off after him.

The atmosphere in the jumper was less than jovial. Rodney didn’t say a word, and John didn’t have the courage to even glance at him. Ronon stopped John as they were leaving the puddlejumper. “You break up with McKay again?” he asked. He shrugged at John’s incredulous look. “McKay likes to talk. I listen.”

John sighed. It was all just too exhausting. “I think it’s his turn to break up with me,” he said.

“The first two years are the worst,” Ronon said. “After that things settle down and it gets easier.” Which was, yeah, cause Ronon had actually had a relationship once.

Rodney remained silent through the debriefing, and Sam, thankfully, acted as though she didn’t notice, which was pretty far fetched what with Rodney not talking and all. As soon as they were finished, Rodney hustled out of the room and headed for his quarters.

John went after him, catching up just in time to have the door slam in his face. “Rodney,” he called, barely managing to keep his voice steady.

“Go away.”

Rodney had locked the door, but John forced it open anyway.

“Excuse me,” Rodney said. "These are my private quarters and I expect you to respect that privacy and get the hell out of here now."

“Just let me explain.”

“Explain?” He hated having Rodney’s bitter, contemptuous laugh directed at him. “Genius here, there was no way to misinterpret what I saw.”

He tried to put his hand on Rodney’s arm because he couldn’t stand this. The need to touch, to get back close to Rodney was unbearable. Rodney shook him off. “Don’t put your filthy hand on me after touching him. Jesus! He had his tongue in your mouth. How could you do that? You make me sick. And don’t even try to tell me there was some sort of compulsion going on there. You were completely willing to let him put his mouth on you. It’s just all the same to you as long as you’re getting some, isn’t it?”

Wow, he hadn’t realized Rodney had the power to hurt him that much. The rift between them was so vast it was dizzying. How could he explain his actions? His stomach twisted with shame at the way Rodney was looking at him. The only thing worse than what he’d done with the wraith was having Rodney know about it. He had reached for Rodney every time the wraith was around, and he’d never made any attempt to confide in Rodney or solicit his help, just deliberately concealed his demented, sick, twisted attraction to the wraith. He most definitely had been deceitful and stupid. How could he ask Rodney to excuse what he couldn’t excuse himself?

Rodney had gone quiet, which made it one of the shortest rants he’d ever been subjected to, and for a moment he thought that was all. But then Rodney grabbed the coffee cup from his nightstand and threw it. The metal cup bounced and rattled onto the floor, splattering cold coffee like a Rorschach design down the wall. He couldn’t remember if he’d ever seen Rodney throw anything in anger before.

“I actually thought I had some idea what was inside your head,” Rodney said. “ If you don’t get out of my sight, I’ll radio Lorne and tell him you’re refusing to leave my quarters. How would you like to explain this situation to him?” He wasn’t yelling anymore. He’d slumped down into his chair and was staring at the floor as if he couldn’t bear the sight of John, which, yeah, he probably couldn’t.

John left.

****

Rodney adopted a clipped formality for dealing with him which was a lot worse than being yelled at. Days passed during which they spoke only when necessary. John told himself he was giving Rodney time to cool off, but basically it was easy to fall into his normal pattern when his relationships went south. Avoid, repress, avoid.

John was amazed a few weeks later when Rodney invited him down to the lab to play video golf. Rodney acted as if nothing had ever gone wrong between them, joking around and being his usual sarcastic self. So maybe John was a little over eager to believe that Rodney was just going to let it go and forgive him, maybe he just wanted it too bad. He may have gotten a little manic over the game.

When Rodney showed him the ring and dropped the bombshell of his plans to propose to Katie, John was completely blindsided. Rodney had made his choice without giving him any chance to explain. He’d never been so flustered in his life.

Rodney ignored his stunned remarks and dashed out of the room while his brain was still stalled in shock and disbelief. Once again it seemed he’d allowed the flow of events to wash over him and wipe out his connections to people because he didn’t know what else to do. He’d messed up with the whole wraith thing, but he hadn’t exactly been in his right mind. Whereas Rodney had no fucking excuse at all for setting him up like that. Was he really angry enough to propose to someone he clearly wasn’t all that interested in just to get revenge?

The press of events swept his personal life aside, keeping him focused on escaping from the lab when the city malfunctioned and locked everything down. Every time the pressure eased up he had to push away thoughts of Rodney, wondering what Katie and Rodney were saying, what they were planning while trapped together in the botany lab. He knew he was more important to Rodney than Katie ever could be, and he clung to that knowledge, promising himself they would sort things out, that this time he would not step aside and give up what he wanted without a fight.

John left Ronon and the others in the cafeteria and went wearily back to his room. He knew how to be alone. But when his door slid open he saw Rodney sprawled out on his back on the bed. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I didn’t ask her,” Rodney said.

He was so worked up it took him a minute to get that. “What?”

“I couldn’t go through with it.”

“Why did you…why did you show me the ring and all that then?”

Rodney rubbed his eyes. He looked as tired as John felt. “I don’t know. I wanted to share the pain or something.”

“Did it help?”

“Were you hurt? Cause I gotta tell, you, you didn’t seem to be. Do you have any idea how I felt when I told you I was going to propose to Katie and you offered to buy me a beer? I mean, what the fuck was that? I expected you to at least try to stop me. How little can you care?”

“Stop making assumptions about what’s going on with me.” He was going to be calm and firm as soon as he could stop yelling. “You have no idea the power that wraith was working on me and you obviously have no idea what I feel. You’re going to have to learn that when you’re in a serious relationship with someone you have to give them a chance to explain stuff and not act like a fucking jackass out of spite.”

“You think we’re in a serious relationship?”

“What? Yes!”

“Cause I thought we were just fucking.”

“Cut it out!” He couldn’t remember the last time he had been this furious with anyone, and he grabbed the front of Rodney’s shirt and yanked him up off his chair.

“You’re not intimidating me,” Rodney said, and it was true. If anything, Rodney looked amused for a minute. John continued glaring at him, and finally Rodney dropped his eyes. “Okay, okay,” he said. “ I shouldn’t have said that.” Incredibly, he smiled a little. “But, hey, this is our first big fight.”

“Yeah, so?” He had every right to sound sullen, because what the fuck was Rodney smirking about? “Are you seriously going to try to characterize this as a lovers’ quarrel?”

“Well, maybe. After the fight there’s making up, right?”

“That’s…” Leave it to Rodney to say something absolutely crass and ridiculous in the middle of a serious argument over their serious relationship.

“I’m done with Katie. Can you say the same thing about Todd?”

He sighed and let go of Rodney’s shirt. “Fuck, it’s not at all the same thing. He said the compulsion would fade as long as he didn’t feed on me anymore.”

“So you are going to try to sell me on a compulsion thing?”

“Not, okay, I let him kiss me. I don’t really know how much that was part of the compulsion. But there was compulsion. He could have fed off me easily Rodney; I would have let him. Hell I invited him to, and he backed off voluntarily.”

“Well, gee, he probably figured the rest of us would not take too kindly to that.”

“Yeah, good point. But I think he was telling the truth about the compulsion.”

Rodney sat up. “Fine.” he said. “It doesn’t seem that important anymore. I can’t afford to drain all the energy out of my brain being mad at you. Can we just make up?”

“I…yeah.” He stepped between Rodney’s legs and let Rodney pull him down onto the bed.

Now if only Todd would stay gone.
























.