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General & Dr Sheppard ~
Part Eight: Sensory Deprivation
Title: General & Dr Sheppard - Part Eight: Sensory Deprivation Author: Xanthe Feedback: Yes please! To xanthe@xanthe.org Many thanks to: Bluespirit for unwavering support, constant enthusiasm,
good suggestions and beta help and for just being fabulous. I really
can't thank Bluespirit enough. She's been so fabulous and I seriously
doubt I'd have continued writing this story without her help and
support. Any mistakes are my own. Special thanks also to Flying North
for discussions and suggestions. Separate thanks also due to the
fantastically talented Bluespirit for the amazingly inspiring title
graphic ;-).
General & Dr Sheppard
Rodney Sheppard's mouth felt dry as he hung there, naked, exposed and vulnerable. He wondered what John would do to him next and trembled. "Shh...you have to stop thinking," his husband said, somewhere by his left side, stroking his trembling body calmingly. "Now, first things first...cock ring." Rodney felt the cold, unforgiving steel of the ring slide onto his semi-erect cock. "You know the rules—you'll keep nice and hard for me," John said, massaging Rodney's cock into a state of full erection, so that it was straining against the ring. "Nice and hard throughout or I'll punish you," John warned, his finger sliding up and down the underside of Rodney's cock, making it harden still further. "But of course you'll only come on my command," John told him. Rodney sighed, knowing that was inevitable. "And I might not let you come at all," John warned. "If you don't submit to me, if you don't fully and freely offer yourself up, then there's no way in hell you'll come today, Rodney. And of course, if you do submit, then you won't mind whether you come or not—it'll be my decision and you'll accept that." Rodney felt a warm mouth close suddenly and unexpectedly on his left nipple and he let out a startled cry that was muffled by the gag. Rodney hated being gagged. It stifled all his natural responses. He was such a verbal man that it felt like he'd been stripped of his last defense, and John knew that all too well, which was presumably why he liked to gag him. Rodney relaxed into the warm caress on his nipple as John sucked down hard on it. He loved nipple play, and could take quite a lot of rough treatment on his nipples before it got too much for him. John's hands and mouth seemed to be simultaneously everywhere as he stroked, caressed and sucked Rodney's body, trailing a line of hot kisses down over his belly, and then up to his right nipple, before sucking down hard on that, too. Rodney tensed and then relaxed again. He tried to remember that he was offering himself up to his husband, and that John could do what he liked to him, and his cock ached at that thought. He belonged to John, and if John wanted to suck him, or bite him, or flog him, then he could. Rodney just had to surrender, to allow it to happen, to stop trying to second guess what John would do next. There was silence for a moment, and John moved away. Rodney longed to feel those warm lips on his body again and missed his touch. Then he let out a shriek that was once again lost in the gag, as something freezing descended on his ass. Where the hell had John been hiding ice cubes? Rodney jack-knifed into his bonds, completely pointlessly, as John slid the ice cube over his buttocks and then dipped it deep into his anus and left it there, cooling his hot flesh. Rodney wanted to shout out a protest, to make some cutting remark, but he couldn’t speak, and he bounced against his bonds in annoyance, which only earned a wry chuckle from John's general direction. "Now, now, temper, temper, Rodney," he said. Rodney let out a very muffled curse and was rewarded with a hard slap to one of his butt cheeks. "You're mine, remember, Rodney. I can do what I like to you," John reminded him. Rodney fought it for a moment, and then hung his head down between his shoulders, with a sigh. "Good boy," John murmured, and Rodney could feel his hands caressing his body again. Then he jack-knifed once more as two cold ice cubes landed, one on each of his nipples. John held them there for what felt like an eternity and Rodney was so tightly shackled that he couldn't get away from the freezing torment. "Shh, take it...there's a good boy, Rodney," John was saying, kissing his collarbones as he held those cubes against Rodney's warm flesh, freezing his nipples into hard points. "Good...good," John said, and one of the ice cubes disappeared to be replaced by John's warm mouth. The change in sensation was so sudden and so acute that Rodney cried out around the gag again. The same thing happened to the other nipple and Rodney was screaming now, jerking pointlessly in his bonds. He could still feel the other ice cube, lodged deep in his ass, melting cool water out of his body. John continued the ice torture for several long minutes, alternating the cold and hot until Rodney didn't think he could bear it any more...and then, suddenly, it was over. John squeezed the abused nubs of flesh between his fingers and they were now so sensitized that Rodney squirmed. "Are you still resisting me, Rodney?" John asked in a dangerous voice. Rodney shook his head frantically. "I think you are. You tried to flinch away from me just then," John told him. "It's a shame. I thought these," he squeezed Rodney's nipples hard, making Rodney throw his head back, sweat trickling down the side of his face, "had been tortured enough, but now I think we need to punish them some more." Rodney shook his head frantically again, sure that he couldn't take any more play on the abused nubs of flesh, but next thing he knew, there was a clicking sound and then he felt the head of John's nipple clamps tighten around his right nipple. He knew these clamps very well—they had been on the belt Carson had given his husband on his wedding day and they were adjustable so John could use them to suit the circumstances. John rarely used anything other than his strap for punishment, but on one or two occasions, when Rodney had really screwed up, he had used the clamps on their tightest setting, and Rodney had learned to have a healthy respect for the damn things as a result. Rodney tensed as he heard John tighten the little wheel on the side of the clamp and gradually it started to tighten around his nipple. He gave a little cry as the tightening continued, pinching the nipple hard...and then, thank God, it stopped. Rodney knew, logically, that this was nowhere near the most severe setting, but it felt bad enough. He tensed again as John fastened the other clamp onto his left nipple and began tightening that, too. They hurt on his sensitized skin, and yet he was aroused, too. He loved it when John tortured his nipples, good and long and hard, and he knew that he'd have been disappointed on some level if John had stopped after the ice cube torment, even though he also knew that right now he desperately wanted the torture to stop, and for John to leave his poor nipples alone. "That's good," John said silkily, his voice sounding somewhere near his left ear. "You look good now, Rodney. All tied and clamped." Rodney sighed, allowing himself to relax into his bonds. His arms were starting to ache, but he knew he had to endure a lot more before John would free him. "I like how good you look like this," John said throatily, and now his wet, warm mouth was sliding down Rodney's back, kissing a path down his spine and ending up on his ass. He took hold of Rodney's butt cheeks and Rodney gasped as he felt John's tongue dip inside his anus. It felt strange, to have that cold ice cube and John's warm tongue inside him at the same time and he struggled with it for a moment, and then just surrendered himself. It felt so good—and the more John worked his tongue inside his body, the nicer it felt. Rodney sighed, and felt his shoulders begin to loosen as he hung in his bonds. John rimmed him for a good long time, which felt fantastic, but also meant that Rodney was more and more aware of the ache in his cock and how badly he wanted to relieve it. John had told him he might not get to come at all tonight—which would be cruel, but Rodney knew that it was by no means certain. Sometimes John wouldn't allow him to come, even when he'd submitted totally to his husband's will. It was just another way in which John reinforced the fact that Rodney belonged to him, and even though at the time of being denied orgasm Rodney hated it, he had to admit that there was something about the way John exercised this control over him that appealed to him mentally and kept their relationship fresh and unpredictable. Finally, John released his hold on Rodney's buttocks. "Now I'm going to undress," he said. "You'll have to take my word for that, Rodney, seeing as you're blindfolded." Rodney sighed around the gag, wishing he could watch as his husband undressed, seeing the image in his mind's eye of John sliding out of his clothes, revealing that hard, toned body that Rodney loved so much. "I'm taking my pants off now," John told him, amid a sound of rustling. "Mmm, my cock is hard again, Rodney. I'd like to take you right now, I'd like to fuck your plump ass while you're all tied up like that and you wouldn't be able to do a thing to stop me," John purred. Rodney champed around his gag, because he could think of a hundred things he wanted to say in answer to that and the fact that he couldn't say any of them was driving him insane. "But I can wait. There's some more I want to do to you yet, boy," John hissed. "Okay, I'm done now, but you can't touch me. Not yet." For one brief moment, John pressed himself against Rodney's body and Rodney could feel the long lines of his husband's naked body and the hardness of his large cock as it poked against Rodney's thigh, but a moment was all John allowed him, and then he pulled back and Rodney groaned in frustration. "Not yet," John teased. "You'll have to wait for that. Now...how are these doing?" he said, and he took hold of both the nipple clamps and twisted. Rodney cried out, bucking against John's body, but John kept hold of him, twisting for a long time, while Rodney screamed into the gag. Then it was over, and John was soothing him with little kisses on his cheeks and chest. "Hush, it's okay...hush," John whispered and Rodney moaned and pressed against his husband longingly, seeking out his naked flesh, wanting to be close to him. "Mmmm, your cock isn't as hard as it should be," John told him, sliding his finger along it. Rodney felt it harden again immediately. "Too late," John hissed. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to punish you, Rodney." Rodney bowed his head, trembling slightly but accepting the idea that he'd be punished. He didn't want to struggle any more. There was silence for a moment, and then a whooshing sound and then Rodney felt the paddle impact on his buttocks. He loved the loud, thwapping sound it made, and loved even more the fact that John had made this implement himself, with his own hands. He could just imagine John bending over the wood, a thoughtful expression on his face, his tongue protruding slightly between his lips the way it did when he was concentrating hard. The paddle thwapped back down again. It stung, but it was a nice sting. The paddle John had made was a light, thin implement, so it didn't pack a lot of weight when it hit home. It was nothing like the strap, which hurt, plain and simple—the paddle just warmed up his ass nicely. John went slowly, pausing every now and then to rub a hand over Rodney's increasingly hot ass. "Feels good, Rodney. I wish you could see it—it's looking pretty red now," John told him. Rodney sighed and loosened up his shoulders another notch. He loved it when John toyed with him like this, telling him how he looked and what was happening to him. It turned him on even more and he felt his cock straining harder against the cock ring. After several minutes, John stopped paddling him, and then Rodney felt warm kisses land on his buttocks, followed swiftly by an equally warm tongue. "Hmmm, you need cooling down," John told him and next thing he knew, some more of those ice cubes were being pressed against his burning ass. Rodney sighed—this felt good. John cooled his buttocks down for a little while and then he moved away again. Rodney didn't even tense this time. He didn't know what was coming next, but there was nothing he could do about it, anyway. He could only accept whatever it was his husband wanted to do to him. A few seconds later, he felt a soft whumph on his shoulders and sighed deeply around his gag, relaxing even more. This was the new flogger, and it was beautiful. John used it to caress his back and shoulders for what felt like hours and Rodney started to drift off. This was beautiful—so sensuous. Rodney was so relaxed that it came as a shock when the implement changed, and something much harder and more scratchy landed on his shoulders. He recognized the plait of rope that he'd seen in the chest and gave a little sob. This was a flogger with much more bite to it. John increased the tempo and Rodney could feel his shoulders start to warm and he began to moan, stirring in his bonds. "Take it, Rodney," John told him. "Take it for me." He continued flogging Rodney relentlessly, until Rodney was grunting hard with each stroke. The flogger covered every square inch of his back and buttocks, not letting up for a second, and now Rodney was crying out loud around his gag, begging and pleading with John for it to stop, knowing that the sound was incoherent and made no sense...and then, suddenly, it did stop. A lubed finger slid into his ass and removed the remnants of the ice cube and then another lubed finger was inside him. "I'm going to take you, Rodney, in a minute," John told him, his voice sounding right below Rodney's left ear. "I'm going to let you down and then tie you up again, on the bed. I'm going to tie you tight, and then I'm going to fuck this little asshole." His fingers wriggled as he said that and Rodney moaned with pleasure, longing to feel John's hard cock inside him. A few seconds later, the fingers were removed, and he felt himself being lifted and unclipped from the chains. He dropped into John's arms and his husband held him up, stroking and kissing him, but his respite was brief. John half-led, half-carried him across the room, still blindfolded, and guided him onto the bed. He put Rodney in a kneeling position and tied his ankles to the corners of the bed, fastening them wide apart. Then he placed what felt like pillows under Rodney's belly and chest and pushed him forwards onto them. Finally he took hold of Rodney's hands and tied them behind his back. Rodney angled his head sideways so he could breathe. He felt so exposed like this, his legs stretching his asshole wide open, and he loved that this was how John must be seeing him—naked and utterly wanton, open and ready for him to enter. A hand slapped his ass again, several times, and then Rodney felt the bed give and he guessed John had knelt on it behind him. His buttocks were seized and he felt the tip of John's cock slide into him. Rodney's own cock was hard as a rock, but he knew he'd have to hold on and he genuinely had no idea whether John would let him come or not. John pushed himself inside Rodney's ass slowly, up to the hilt, and Rodney felt completely helpless to do anything other than accept the intrusion. Being tied up, being blindfolded and gagged, made him acutely aware of the feel of John inside his body, of that long, blunt cock claiming him, inching its way inside him. There was nothing else except his asshole, and John within him, reminding him who he was and who he belonged to. Now Rodney knew that John was right—he didn't care anymore whether he came or not, as long as his husband was satisfied. John gripped his buttocks tightly and then began to pound into him with slow, leisurely thrusts. Rodney groaned, his prostate sending messages of molten pleasure to his brain. John's hands slid under his body and he rested them on Rodney's clamped nipples. "When I remove these, then you can come," he said. "But if you don't come then, you won't get to come at all." It was a fiendish thing to say. It was precisely when the clamps came off that they hurt most, and Rodney often lost his erection when that happened. Still, that was what his husband had said, and that was what would happen. Either he'd come then, or he would go without this evening. Rodney accepted that. John continued to thrust into him, lazily, taking his time. "Are you enjoying this, Rodney?" he murmured, hands caressing Rodney's back and ass as he rode him. "Because I am. I love seeing you like this...your ass is nice and red and warm...." He grunted in pleasure with each inward thrust. "Nice plump ass...all helpless and open...just sitting here, begging to be fucked." Rodney groaned around his gag, wanting to come, knowing he could come right now, if only John would give him permission. "I love your ass, Rodney...and this tight little hole that you save just for me..." John was saying, and he knew how much it turned Rodney on when he talked to him like this. Rodney felt his entire body go into a spasm of need, and he wished he could beg John for permission to come, but the gag was firm around his mouth and all he could do was accept his submission, and take John's beautiful, hard cock into his compliant body and worship it the only way that was available to him right now. "I'm close, Rodney. When I come, I'm going to take those clamps off you, so you'd better be ready..." John warned him. Rodney knew he was ready right now...but he also knew that once the pain kicked in, then it might be too late. He had to stay in the moment, stay focused. "Such a tight little asshole, squeezing me. I love that you can't move, Rodney. You can't wriggle or squirm or do anything except tighten this little hole around my hard cock. I love that," John growled and Rodney whimpered into his gag, barely able to hold on. "You look good when you're tied up, when you're helpless," John added. "When you've been flogged and spanked, when you've submitted to me and given it all up to me...it's such a turn-on." It was a turn-on for Rodney, too, and he was relieved when he felt John speed up inside him, heard his grunts become more pronounced, and then John was gasping out loud and Rodney knew he was coming. He seemed to take forever, his hands gripping Rodney's thighs hard as he came deep inside him, and Rodney opened up even more, loving the fact that John was leaving his warm come so deep within him. Then there was a moment of silence, followed, a split second later, by a fumble of fingers on his chest, and then the pinching torment in his nipples faded and Rodney tried to make the most of his window of opportunity...but it was already too late. The pain crashed in, the way it always did when his nipples had been released from their cruel prison, and he lost the moment and gave himself up instead to the rolling waves of sensation currently assaulting his sore chest. When that had finally subsided, he realized he'd failed and he sighed into his pillow. John was undoing his bonds, stroking him gently as he did so. He unbuckled Rodney's gag, then untied his blindfold and rolled him over and Rodney blinked in the dimly lit room. John had ensured the lights were turned down low so as not to assault his eyes, and Rodney slowly adjusted to visual stimulus, gazing around blearily. The first thing he saw was John, looming over him, dark hair sweaty and flopping into his eyes. "How are you doing?" John asked him, smoothing Rodney's own sweaty hair away from his face, and planting a kiss on his lips. "Mmmm," Rodney replied, lying on the bed in a completely relaxed state, incapable of coherent thought. John grinned and picked up one of his wrists and massaged it between his fingers, then repeated the massage with his other wrist. Rodney just lay there and let him work, completely out of it. John moved his hand down further, and slid the cock ring off Rodney's penis. "So, you didn't manage to come, huh?" John asked, a little grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, as he played with Rodney's cock. "Mmmm?" Rodney blinked, trying to figure out what the question was and then shook his head weakly. "No... Doesn't matter, though." He smiled up at his husband adoringly. "You're right...doesn't matter at all as long as I can please you." Rodney was surprised by the look of intense love that flared in John's eyes as he said that. Then his husband bent his head and captured Rodney's lips with his own and kissed him with all his heart. Rodney moaned and opened up. The one problem with wearing a gag was that he had missed the kisses that John usually gave him during sex. This one more than made up for that, though—it was searing and passionate, yet oddly tender, too, and John wrapped his hand gently in Rodney's hair and held him down while he devoured his lips. Then he drew back and smiled down on him. "You were so good.... I love it when you give yourself up to me like that. It's such a turn-on," he whispered. "Now...I have an idea. How are these?" He ran his fingertips lightly over Rodney's abused nipples and Rodney hissed and jerked up immediately. "Pretty sore huh?" John said. Rodney gave a little whimper of agreement. "Okay..." John glanced at the clock. "I'll play with them for five minutes. Now, you can push me away, if you want—I give you permission—and if you push me away or tell me to stop, then I will. But if you don't, if you let me play for the full five minutes, then I'll let you come." Rodney gazed at him blearily. His cock was semi-erect again just from that deep kiss, and the feeling of John's skin against his as they lay on the bed. "Okay," he whispered. In truth, his permission didn't really matter—and John was being kind. If he wanted, he could play with Rodney's sore nipples all night and Rodney didn't have the right to stop him, but in reality John didn't force him down that kind of path too often, although he did occasionally, just to remind Rodney who was in charge and who he belonged to. John grinned at him, kissed him on the mouth again, and then dipped his head down to take one of Rodney's nipples between his lips. Rodney jerked at once at the soft caress, and John glanced up. "You have to stay still, or I'll stop," he said. "I need you to surrender, to let me do what I want, even though it's hard and it hurts." Rodney nodded, gazing at his husband in wonderment at how fiendish and brilliant a top he was. John smiled at him and then lowered his head again and took the other nipple gently between his lips. He teased it for a long time, sending sparks of pure red-hot pain through the abused piece of flesh. He wasn't even sucking very hard, but Rodney's nipples were so incredibly sensitized right now that it didn't take much to make them feel like they were on fire. He moaned softly, but didn't move, and allowed John to suck. Then John moved back to the other one, and took it carefully between his teeth and pulled back on it just a little, squeezing the tip. Rodney gave a whimper of pure pain, but he still didn't move. He knew he could—that John would stop if he told him to, and he knew the price of that would be giving up on an orgasm this evening, but that wasn't what was motivating him. Some part of him simply wanted to surrender to John. He loved surrendering to his husband, even when it was hard—no, especially when it was hard, because that was when it was sweetest and when it gave his submission the most meaning. John's fingers were now caressing his other nipple, gently stroking it, making Rodney shiver, and then his grip tightened and Rodney started to pant, moaning loudly as the nipple was squeezed beyond what he thought he could endure, but still he didn't protest or move away. It took every single ounce of his determination, but Rodney was an extremely obstinate man when he set his mind to it, and he wanted his husband to know just how devoted he was in his submission. John released his bite and smiled at Rodney lovingly, and Rodney knew his husband understood the place he was in in his head right now. In fact, he thought that John was in a similar place in his own head, only while Rodney was concentrating on submission, John was in an incredibly toppy place right now, completely on fire with his own sense of domination. Rodney's submission wouldn't be sweet if John didn't make it mean something, if he didn't take him places he didn't think he could go, if he didn't demand those very things from Rodney that were so hard for Rodney to surrender. John lowered his head again and this time he sucked down hard on the same nipple he'd just lightly bitten. Rodney squealed, but he didn't move...and John stayed there, his warm mouth sucking down for what felt like hours. Rodney glanced at the clock. Three minutes had passed—he still had two more to endure. It might as well have been hours because each second was agony and Rodney could feel the sweat bead on his brow and drip down his face. John didn't go easy on him. He moved his head again and took Rodney's other nipple in his mouth and tongued it purposefully, while squeezing its twin with his free hand. Rodney gasped, losing himself completely in his own submission, offering himself up to John for whatever torment his husband wanted to hand out. That pain in his chest seemed to go on forever, but Rodney was lost now, unaware of the time passing. There was just the fiery agony in his nipples, and John's mouth and fingertips, just him and them...just his husband taking and him offering up freely and that was the way it should be, and it made him feel at peace with this strange universe they were in. Then, suddenly, shockingly, it was over. It took a few moments for Rodney to realize that he'd been released, so absorbed was he in his own submission, but then he glanced blearily at the clock and realized the five minutes was up...and next thing he knew, John was sliding down his body, and that tormenting mouth was swallowing his cock whole. "Oh, shit..." Rodney whispered as John's tongue flicked over his entire length, arousing it from its flaccid state immediately. John was as expert at giving head as he was in all the other things he did to Rodney's body, whether painful or pleasurable, but this most definitely fell into the latter category. Rodney's hands clutched at the sheets and he took fistfuls of them, groaning as John sucked down gently on the very tip of his penis. He could feel himself leaking pre-come and knew that he was close, but John was taking his time. He alternated between licking the crown of Rodney's cock and sliding his warm mouth over the whole of the helmet, sucking down hard. He dipped his head and took Rodney's entire cock into his mouth, deep throating him easily, as he'd made Rodney deep throat him earlier. Rodney screamed out loud, bucking his hips up against his husband's face, and John moved his mouth back and forth around his distended cock, milking it, and then he drew back. "Come for me, Rodney," he whispered, looking handsome and crazy and wild, his dark hair disheveled, his lips sex-swollen, his eyes alight with some toppy energy all of his own. Then he dipped his head again, slid his lips around Rodney's cock once, twice...and then Rodney was coming, and John was holding his hips tight and still sucking, swallowing down his come. Everything seemed to go white for a while and then Rodney came to and found John lying next to him, cheek resting on the hand of one propped up arm, a loving grin on his lips. His other hand was stroking Rodney's hair gently, long fingers sliding down to caress Rodney's cheek with each stroke. "So...imagine Dr. McKay was in the room right this minute," he said, in a teasing tone. "How would you feel?" "Dr. who?" Rodney muttered, never taking his adoring gaze off his handsome husband. John gave a delighted chuckle. "I told you I could make you forget about him," he said. Rodney gave a little snort of laughter. "Now, next time he's winding you up, just take a deep breath and remember all the things I've just done to you, and zone out. If it's really bad, I'll take care of it again when we're alone together. Yes?" "Mmm. Yes," Rodney sighed. "Promise. God, that was fantastic. All those toys...all the many cruel ways you tormented me." "If you weren't so incredibly easy to torment, and so amazingly beautiful when you're being tormented, then I wouldn't want to do it so often," John told him. "Beautiful?" Rodney snorted. "But you are. You should see yourself as I see you, when you're tied up, when you're being spanked, when that plump ass of yours is all open and ready to receive me...when I'm making you surrender...you are beautiful, Rodney." "Hmm, well, I think of myself more as incredibly handsome in a manly kind of way, but I'll take beautiful, if it pleases you," Rodney said with a dreamy smile. John laughed out loud, and wrapped his husband in his arms with infinite tenderness, taking care not to jolt Rodney's sore nipples. "I'm just going to hold you for a while," he murmured in Rodney's ear, planting a kiss on the back of Rodney's neck at the same time and Rodney relaxed back against him contentedly, still lost in the haze of his own submission, completely at peace in his husband's arms.
* * *
The look that flared in Sheppard's eyes when he said the word surprised Rodney. He'd been going to joke about it, say something like, "Happy now?" But instead he just stayed where he was, still pinned down under John's weight, transfixed by the expression on the colonel's face, which gradually creased up as he gave a wide grin. He sat back, allowing Rodney to sit up, that intense expression remaining in those hazel eyes. Rodney rubbed his wrists where John had been holding him down, and was about to complain about the red marks on them, but somehow, once more, he didn't feel like talking. He just examined the marks intently, wondering why he was so fascinated by them. John got to his feet, and Rodney expected him to make some stupid ass comment about the fact that he'd gotten Rodney to say the 's' word, despite Rodney's protestations that he never would, but John didn't say anything. Instead, he reached down a hand—Rodney thought it was to help him up, but instead he did something extremely weird—he ruffled Rodney's hair. Rodney frowned at this very un-Sheppard-like behavior, but he still felt too relaxed and out of it to say anything. Some small part of him was surprised by his complete lack of conversation—he was never usually at a loss for words. Usually, he could hardly stop himself from spewing forth on any endless number of subjects, although often it was just whatever was going through his overactive brain. For the moment, though, his brain seemed to have slowed down to what he guessed was normal speed for everyone else, and half-speed for him. He felt as if he was doing everything in slow motion, his body loose and lacking the tension that usually made his shoulders feel tight and sore, and he suspected that he might actually be humming, but he was too out of it to be sure. John was leaning over him again now, and this time he was reaching out a hand to help him up. Rodney accepted it and allowed the other man to pull him to his feet. "So...did that help?" Sheppard asked. "Mmm. What?" Rodney glanced at him with a tired smile. "Your argument with Dr. Sheppard...it had you all jumpy, but now you look like you're sleepwalking so I'm guessing you've calmed down." "I do feel...." Rodney drifted off, unsure how he felt, and his brain was working too slowly for him to think of the right words to finish the sentence. Usually he wouldn't want to give Sheppard the satisfaction of knowing he'd gotten something right, but on this occasion he was surprised to find that he really didn't mind. "Yes...it worked. Thank you, John." He said the name absently, and in fact barely even registered that he'd said it, and he also hardly even noticed the little smile that appeared on the colonel's lips in response to his slip. "I was thinking...it's about time to eat and the Daedalus docked a few hours ago with new supplies, so there'll be good stuff on the menu tonight. How about we go straight to the mess hall?" Sheppard suggested. "Mmm. Why not?" Rodney gave a contented little sigh—they always ate really well after the Daedalus returned from Earth. As they walked towards the door, Sheppard put a hand on his shoulder and normally he'd have shaken it off, but it felt like the most natural thing in the world right now. In fact, it felt really good, warm and solid and sort of...protective. Rodney wasn't even aware of it, but he leaned in, ever so slightly, towards the colonel, so that his upper arm and thigh were touching the colonel's body as they walked. The mess hall was busy when they got there, but they managed to find a table and sat down together, side by side, bodies still touching. Rodney suddenly realized he was famished and he started to devour his food with his usual gusto. "Hey, there's the general and Dr. Sheppard," the colonel said, glancing up as the two men entered the room. "There aren't many free spaces. Do you mind if I wave them over, Rodney?" "Mind?" Rodney glanced at him in surprise as he chewed on a massive mouthful. "Oh. Right. Because of my argument with Dr. Sheppard earlier. Nope. I don't mind." Sheppard grinned at him. "You could slow down with your food, Rodney. There's no rush." Rodney grinned back stupidly, thinking that was a very good point and wondering why he was eating so fast. It must just be a reflex action because he was feeling pretty laid back right now. He began chewing more slowly, gazing hazily at the two men who were approaching their table. They both looked kind of damp around the edges, as if they'd just had a shower, and the general was doing that leading his Rodney around on the end of his leash thing that wound Rodney up so much. He felt a small spasm of annoyance about it, but was feeling too good right now to let the emotion take over. As they came close, Rodney found himself frowning, though. "What on earth are you wearing?" he couldn't help blurting out as Dr. Sheppard approached, bearing a massive plateful of food. "Something John got for me," his counterpart replied, shooting a look of sappy adoration at his husband. He was clad in a pair of tight black pants, which laced up provocatively at the crotch, drawing attention to that area of his body, and he had on a dazzlingly blue silk shirt, which clung to his chest and shoulders, accentuating their breadth. "I think it's neat," Sheppard said, gazing at the other Rodney appreciatively. Rodney gave him a look of disbelief. "It's kind of...revealing," he muttered. Not that it should matter, but the point was that when his doppelganger wore stuff like this, then people could see what he would look like dressed in the same way and he found that incredibly embarrassing. "The shirt's cool. Nice color—matches your eyes," Sheppard said. Rodney glared at him. "What?" Sheppard shrugged. "You're a guy. How come you even notice these things?" Rodney protested. "I'm a guy, I'm not blind," Sheppard said defensively. "The shirt looks good on him." "Well, thank you, Colonel," the other Rodney said, sitting down very gingerly, a slight wince crossing his features as his ass made contact with the chair. "Oh, God, not again," Rodney sighed. "What did you do this time?" "Do?" His counterpart gazed at him blankly. "Oh. Right. Nothing." He grinned at his husband in a conspiratorial kind of way. "I was just feeling...tense...and John took care of it for me." "That takes care of it?" Rodney screwed up his face. "Really?" "Oh, yeah." Rodney gave that little giggle of his that always irritated Rodney so much. Rodney gazed at him, not even wanting to admit to himself, let alone anyone else, how much that idea fascinated him. He wondered what it felt like to be held down and spanked – he didn't like being helpless and he still less liked being hurt so why couldn't he stop thinking about what it would be like to willingly go over a pair of strong knees and feel a firm hand on his naked, upturned bottom…? "So...you two are looking a bit red in the face...and kind of sweaty, if you don't mind me saying so," the general commented, interrupting Rodney's train of thought and wrinkling up his nose as he took his seat beside his Rodney. He forked up some food and fed it to his husband and Atlantis' Rodney tensed. He always found this feeding thing so weird. He felt his knee start to bounce up and down, the way it did when he was agitated. "Yeah, just took Rodney through some wrestling moves," Sheppard said casually, and as he did so he put a hand on Rodney's knee to still the restless movement. He left it there for a second until Rodney stopped bouncing. Rodney took a deep breath and tried to recapture the peaceful mood he'd been in. "Ah. Right," the general said smugly, looking as if he knew some big, important secret that he wasn't going to share with anyone. Rodney glared at him now, but not too much because the truth was, the general kind of scared him. "The colonel is just trying to give me some lessons that will help me when we go off-world," he said, jutting his chin out combatively. "Okay. Right." The general nodded pleasantly, but he still had that annoying smug look on his face. "Sounds good!" his Rodney said cheerfully. Rodney took another slow mouthful of food and tried to stay in that nice, calm headspace. He sat back and watched his counterpart, noticing how he kept gazing at the general with a dreamy look on his face. The two men had always been close, and had never made any secret of how in love they were, but all the same, Rodney had never seen his counterpart looking like this before. The tense, snappy man he'd shouted at in the lab earlier had completely disappeared to be replaced by this almost Buddha-like incarnation of the man. He had a completely sappy smile on his face throughout the meal, although he barely seemed able to make coherent conversation. He kept saying "What?" and "Mmm?" whenever anyone asked him anything and he never took his eyes off his husband. Rodney felt uncomfortable as he wondered just what the general had done to him to make him so happy and zoned out. He was in a pretty good mood himself, but he doubted it was anything approaching the level of relaxed ecstasy that his counterpart was currently experiencing. The general seemed to be in an equally good mood. He couldn't keep his hands off his husband, and petted him much more than usual—and Rodney thought that he usually petted him more than was necessary as it was. Now, though, he kept stroking the other Rodney's hair or kissing his cheek as if mesmerized by him. Rodney grew more and more uncomfortable as the meal progressed and kept darting little glances at Sheppard to see if he felt the same way, but the other man seemed oblivious to the embarrassment factor and just smiled back at Rodney, an easy look in his eyes, no hint of discomfort in his body language. When had Sheppard become so at ease with their counterparts' relationship?, Rodney wondered. He knew the other man had been unsettled by it to begin with, just like him, but now the colonel seemed completely unfazed. The two Johns got to talking about something to do with the Daedalus and some tedious military chat about the Daedalus' weaponry systems which Rodney allowed to go in one ear and out the other. He was lost in his own headspace, anyway, still trying to cling to his earlier good mood. He noticed that the other Rodney wasn't very talkative, either, which made a change. Usually, he and his counterpart talked endlessly—or bickered might have been a more accurate description—and the two Johns sat back and tried to get a word in edgeways, but this evening neither of the two Rodneys was very talkative. Rodney was almost at the end of his coffee when his counterpart got up to get some dessert. Rodney watched him walking off, and noticed how relaxed his entire body was, his arms swinging loose. He seemed lost in his own little cloud, humming some kind of happy song under his breath and Rodney was surprised to see a couple of people checking him out as he walked past. He was pretty sure that nobody ever checked him out and his counterpart looked almost exactly the same as he did. The two Johns were still wrapped up in their own conversation and Rodney rested a head on his arm, feeling drowsy. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed someone approaching the other Rodney and he blinked, surprised. Kavanagh. Damn, how could he have forgotten that the other scientist was due back on the Daedalus today? Kavanagh was looking at his counterpart as if he was something out of a zoo. "My God. What the hell...?" Kavanagh looked Dr. Sheppard up and down. The other Rodney sighed and glared at him. "Do I know you?" he said. "Rodney? Oh, no, I get it—you're the other one I've heard about. My God, this is priceless. McKay must love having you around," Kavanagh sneered. "I wish I had my camera. You look...like a rent boy or something." He leaned in close, too close, one hand brushing Rodney Sheppard's silk clad arm, and the other Rodney stiffened. "Look, I don't know who the hell you are, but back off," he hissed. "Trust me—you really don't want to mess with me." "Oh, I'm just looking. What's this?" Kavanagh had a slightly too interested look in his eye as he flicked at the pendant around the other Rodney's neck. Rodney Sheppard snapped out a hand and fastened it—hard—around Kavanagh's wrist. "I'm warning you...you really don't want to mess with me," he said, in a low, hard tone. Rodney was impressed—his counterpart really knew how to take care of himself. Even as he was busy thinking that, he heard a whizzing sound and next thing he knew, a knife had twanged past Kavanagh's head, narrowly missing his ponytail, and was buried in the wall just behind his right eye. The entire room went silent and the general got slowly to his feet and walked purposefully over to Kavanagh. Rodney almost laughed out loud as the pony-tailed scientist slunk back against the wall like a cornered rat. The general walked right up to him, invading his personal space...and the mess hall inhaled a collective breath, wondering what was going to happen next. Beside him, Rodney saw Sheppard scramble to his feet anxiously, ready to stop a fight, but the general just smiled politely. He reached out a hand and Kavanagh flinched, visibly. "Excuse me," the general said to Kavanagh. "I seem to have mislaid my knife." He pulled the weapon out of the wall and replaced it in his sheath. The entire mess hall exhaled en masse. "I did warn you," Rodney Sheppard said to Kavanagh with a shrug. "Jerk," he added for good measure. The general leaned in close and whispered something in Kavanagh's ear. Rodney couldn't hear what he was saying, but Kavanagh's face seemed to drain of blood and he went very pale. Then the general smiled at him pleasantly and patted his arm, before putting a hand on his Rodney's shoulder and drawing him back to the table. Kavanagh immediately scuttled out of the room like a scared rabbit. "You know, we generally don't approve of knives being thrown around in the mess hall," Sheppard said in a conversational tone when their counterparts returned to the table. "I have a very accurate aim," the general replied, his hand still firmly attached to his husband's shoulder. "Still. There's a lot of people around," Sheppard pointed out. "Someone could have gotten hurt." "There was provocation," the general growled. "Nobody touches—" "What's yours. Sure, I know that," Sheppard nodded. "I think we all pretty much know that by now. I'm just saying. That's all." There was a long silence and Rodney gazed at the general surreptitiously when he thought the other man wasn't looking. The general had a very dark look in his eyes and it was noticeable that he still hadn't relinquished his hold on the other Rodney's shoulder. "Uh-oh," John sighed a few seconds later. "Looks like word of your knife-throwing skills has gotten around." They all looked up to see Elizabeth standing in the doorway. The general sighed and put down his napkin, then stood up respectfully as Elizabeth strode towards him, her eyes flashing. "General, I've had reports of a fight in here," she said, fixing him with her steely eyed gaze, the one she saved for when she was really pissed. Rodney winced; he knew that gaze and it didn't bode well for the general. "My apologies, my lady," the general said, bowing his head. "The colonel has already explained to me that my actions were not appropriate in your universe." "There was a knife thrown?" Elizabeth demanded tersely. "Yes. Nobody was hurt," the general replied. "That's irrelevant, General!" she rapped out. "We can't have people starting fights in here and we most definitely can't have knives being thrown around—somebody could have been killed!" "What I did would not have been viewed as unacceptable or even out of the ordinary in our universe," the general murmured. "But I'm sorry to have offended you, my lady. Honestly." He bowed his head again. "I should throw you in the brig for a couple of days," she told him. Rodney Sheppard got to his feet anxiously at that, making a strange sound in the back of his throat. "It's okay, Rodney," the general told him softly. "I will willingly subject myself to whatever discipline you wish to impose, my lady," he told her, standing to attention. Elizabeth seemed surprised by that and she stood there for a moment, clearly assessing the situation. "I don't want to put you in the brig," she said finally, with a sigh. "I do understand that your ways are different to ours, and you are our guests while you are here, but I must ask you to respect our customs the way we have tried to respect yours." "You are very kind, my lady." The general bowed his head a third time. "I offer my sincere apologies again." "Thank you. Then we'll say no more about it," she said, turning to go. "Why do you tolerate him, my lady?" the general called after her. She stiffened and turned back. "What do you mean?" "In our universe, that man never made it to Atlantis. You met him at McMurdo and had a bad feeling about him, so he never made it on the team. You talked it over with me at the time and I agreed with you. Why don't you listen to your gut, Elizabeth? You have a bad feeling about him, too, but you ignore it. You're too interested in being polite. It's the same with the knife—you people don't like to show how you're feeling, whether its love or anger. Your universe is so polite, so constricted." "These are the rules we've chosen to live by," Elizabeth snapped at him. "Without them, there would be anarchy. Everyone would be at each other's throats!" "That's not what happens in our universe. Instead, we know where we stand," the general told her. "We're not in your universe, General!" she told him forcefully. "And I happen to like the rules of my universe just fine." Sheppard got to his feet cautiously. "I think we have another one of those culture clash issues going on here," he said in a soothing tone. "Nobody's right or wrong—it's just different. Elizabeth's got a point, though, General. You're here, not back home, and to be honest, it's been great learning from you, about all kinds of stuff, and fascinating getting an insight into your culture—but we must ask you to obey our rules while you're here." The general nodded at both Elizabeth and Sheppard. "I understand," he said. "I deeply regret that my actions might have embarrassed or offended you. Now...with your permission, my lady, I think we'll retire for the evening." He glanced at his Rodney, who got immediately to his feet. The general took hold of his husband's leash and the other Rodney wrapped an arm around his waist, and the two men left the mess hall together. Rodney watched as Sheppard went over to Elizabeth. "He does have a point you know," he whispered to her. "About Kavanagh?" "Yeah. I know," she sighed. "It'd be kind of nice to just ship him back home, wouldn't it?" Sheppard said softly, so that Rodney had to strain to hear him. Elizabeth gave a throaty little chuckle. "Yes, it would. Especially as he only just arrived," she grinned. "Maybe something to think about?" Sheppard raised an eyebrow. "Maybe," she said thoughtfully, and then she left. The colonel came and sat back down at the table beside Rodney again. "Wow. Way to go, Elizabeth," Rodney said, sitting back and folding his arms across his chest. "Standing up to the general like that. I'm impressed." "Yeah. There's the thing," Sheppard sighed. Rodney frowned and glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. "Everyone finds him so damn cool," Sheppard muttered, flushing slightly. "Wait...you're saying you're jealous?" Rodney asked. Sheppard bit on his lip. "Not jealous exactly, but.... You know, back on that mission to PBX-250, nobody even questioned him when he took command. Ronon and Teyla just did what he said without even looking at me." Sheppard paused and gazed at Rodney speculatively for a moment. Rodney realized that usually he'd make a snarky comment around this time, press one of the colonel's buttons and jump up and down on his insecurities about the general, but he didn't want to do that right now. Sheppard had been good to him today. In fact, he'd been pretty nice to him for a while now, and Rodney found that somehow he must have started to trust the man, because instead of saying something sarcastic, he put a hand on Sheppard's arm. "Go on," he said softly. "You think he's cool, too, don't you?" Sheppard said. "Everyone does. I mean, I do, too, but I was just wondering...what is it that you like about him particularly? Be honest with me, Rodney. Why did my team follow him so easily back there?" Rodney thought about it for a moment. Sheppard had asked him to be honest with him and he thought he could do that. Usually, his brand of honesty was pretty brutal, but he didn't want to hand that kind of honesty out to the colonel right now so he chose his words carefully. "I think...he's just very direct, John," he said, using the first name on purpose this time. "He's very in the moment somehow. You know he means what he says and he'll do what he says. It's not like you hold back on us, just that he's more in your face. I wouldn't beat yourself up about this. We trust you completely when we go offworld and you know that Ronon would do anything for you. I like your leadership style better, to be honest. He's very sure of himself, as we saw just now—" Rodney glanced at the knife mark in the wall, "—but you're more laid back, and, frankly, less scary." Sheppard grinned at him. "Damn. See, I'd like to be more scary." "I like you just the way you are," Rodney said, with a shrug. He hadn't meant the comment to sound sappy, but Sheppard actually looked rather touched. "Okay...while we're being honest. What do you like about Rodney Sheppard?" he asked with a sigh. "Go on, just tell me. I can handle it." "Okaaay..." Sheppard looked unconvinced on that score. "He's funny, he's smart." "I'm smart!" Rodney pointed out with a pout. "And I can be funny. How come all my staff like him more than they like me?" "I don't think they do, to be honest. It's just easier for him because ultimately it's not his lab and he doesn't have to take any of that responsibility, so he gets to have more fun around your people. Also, he really is less uptight," Sheppard said with a sigh. "He's.... It's just I find you fun to be around, and he is, too, but he's not climbing the walls every five minutes." "I don't climb the.... Did you say you find me fun to be around?" Rodney wasn't sure why that meant so much to him, but it did. "Sure I do. You must have noticed that we do hang out together quite a lot." Sheppard grinned. "I wouldn't do that if I didn't like you." "Oh. Right. Great." Rodney felt peculiarly pleased by that thought. "He's just a bit more laid back, and he has that infectious giggle," Sheppard added. "Infectious? Seriously? I hate that giggle." "I can't hear it without wanting to laugh with him. He's also, generally speaking, less likely to bite your head off." "He's always biting my head off!" Rodney protested. "Yeah, but I have to say that, nine times out of ten, you do seem to start that," the colonel pointed out. "No, I don't! If anything, it's six of one and half a dozen of the other!" "Okay," Sheppard nodded, putting up his hands in mock surrender. "But he's not like that with the rest of us, so it's mainly just you. The pair of you seem to wind each other up." "Well, he's so insufferably smug!" "I suppose he does come over that way sometimes – but maybe that's just because he feels so sure of himself," Sheppard grinned. "If it makes you feel better, I'd prefer to hang out with you any day. And I suspect your team feels the same. Like I said, you're wrong about them liking him more. I think he just makes more of an effort to socialize with them than you do." "Yeah, what's with this whole dinner party thing he and the general have going?" Rodney frowned in distaste, although he was glowing a little inside at finding that Sheppard at least preferred him to his counterpart. "They're just a boring, old, married couple, I guess," Sheppard grinned. "That's what married couples do." Rodney nodded thoughtfully, and found himself gazing at Sheppard. They had had a few honest conversations over the past couple of years, but he didn't think they'd ever had such an honest personal conversation without snarking or making some joke to deflect from what they were saying. Rodney never usually trusted other people enough to talk with them on a per-sonal level—he had very low expectations as a result of a long history of being ridiculed—but Sheppard was different. The other man seemed to actually be genuine. He'd been particularly nice of late, frequently seeking Rodney out and dining with him, and Rodney had slowly come to relax and unwind in his company, and he had to admit that it felt good. Rodney supposed that they'd been kind of thrown together as a result of the unusual situation they were in with their doppelgangers being on Atlantis. No wonder the colonel had started wanting to spend more time with him. They were the only people on the base who understood how weird this whole thing was. "Hello! Rodney!" Sheppard waved a hand in front of his eyes. Rodney blinked, realizing he'd gone off into a haze. "You look shattered." "It was that bloody wrestling," Rodney griped. "I bet I'll have bruises all over tomorrow." "Are you going back to the lab or will you turn in now?" the colonel asked, and Rodney noticed he'd gone very tense. "I should go back and do some more work," Rodney sighed, "but I'm falling asleep here, so I think I'll have an early night." They left the mess hall together, and Rodney wasn't entirely sure where Sheppard was going, but the colonel walked with him all the way to his quarters, and once again he placed his hand on Rodney's shoulder as they walked. It was getting to be a habit, and Rodney felt uneasy about it. His first thought was to shrug the hand off and make a snarky comment about it, but some other instinct was stopping him, and he didn't have a clue what that was about. This whole situation scared him. In his experience, the minute you started opening up to someone was the minute you exposed yourself to potential ridicule and that made him feel like running a mile in the opposite direction, but at the same time he didn't want to. He liked Sheppard, dammit! They stopped outside Rodney's door and Sheppard stood there, gazing at him in that weird, intent way he'd adopted lately. "Thanks for...you know...whatever, Colonel," Rodney said, unsure whether he was referring to the wrestling or the honest conversation over dinner, or maybe both, and feeling stupid. "Oh, I enjoyed it," Sheppard replied, with a glint in his eye that made Rodney think he was definitely referring to the wrestling. "Yeah, any excuse to throw me around," Rodney grumbled. He turned to go, one hand on his door lock, but as he did so, he was sure he saw a strange flash in the other man's eyes. Rodney shut the door behind him, feeling weird—still spaced out and hazy, but also unsettled and he wasn't sure why. He took a shower and as he soaped himself down, he noticed some little bruises from their wrestling session. He remembered how it had felt being pinned down by Sheppard's strong, lean body, and he traced the bruises idly with his fingertips. Sheppard's breath had been warm on his cheek as he'd pinned him to the mat and Rodney found his own breathing coming in sharp gasps. He closed his eyes to concentrate on the memory, fingertips ghosting over the bruises. He remembered wriggling, trying to get free, and the sensation of being overpowered...and next thing he knew, his hand had slid southwards and was wrapping itself around his hard cock. His eyes snapped open and he glanced down in horror. "You cannot be turned on by this," he told himself sternly, trying to focus on his usual jerk-off fantasies, which were mainly about large-breasted women pressing themselves against him. Somehow, though, it failed to work, and his cock softened. Rodney rested his head miserably against the shower wall. He didn't want to think about John holding him down; didn't want to think about how it had felt to have his arms held over his head and John's hazel eyes gazing at him so intently; didn't want to think about how he'd imagined John as a panther, all sleek, dark fur, wild eyes and sharp teeth, gazing at him like he was prey.... "Dammit!" Rodney realized that he was rock hard again, and that thought completely freaked him out so much that he turned on the cold water to teach himself a lesson. "Not gay," he muttered to himself as he stood under the freezing water. "Not gay, not gay, not gay..."
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End of Part Eight Friendly feedback adored at Xanthe@xanthe.org |