~
The Chair ~
By Xanthe
Title: The Chair Summary: "...are you saying I exist merely to be John Sheppard's plaything?" The Wraith have returned, the city is on the verge of destruction and Rodney makes a discovery that could change his relationship with Sheppard forever. Meanwhile, Sheppard has made an equally startling discovery of his own. Rating: R for graphic m/m sex. Category: Slash. Author's Notes: This story is dedicated to my dear friend, Bluespirit. Happy Birthday, Bluespirit! I hope you have as much fun reading this story as I had writing it :-) This story is set immediately after "The Siege Part 3", and before anything coming after that, simply because I haven't seen anything after that episode. So John is still a Major at this point. This story hasn't been properly beta'd but
I have pestered Bluespirit with lots of questions. Hopefully I haven't got
anything badly wrong. This is my first Stargate: Atlantis story so be
gentle with me!
The Chair Rodney McKay shifted restlessly in his bed, listening to the faint hum of the city reverberating around him. He had no idea why he couldn't sleep – god knows he was exhausted enough after the past week or so, having been forced to rise to one challenge after another in their recent confrontation with the Wraith. But now that the danger had passed, and he was finally able to collapse into bed, he suddenly found himself wide awake. Rodney thumped his fists into the mattress, willing himself to get some rest. He'd always slept perfectly soundly before the Atlantis mission, but ever since arriving in the city he'd found himself plagued by occasional bouts of insomnia. He told himself sternly that it was to be expected, considering the life he was leading now, with the constant threat from the Wraith and all the exciting intellectual challenges posed by simply living in the Pegasus galaxy, to say nothing of the ingenuity he had to display every single day just to keep this city of the Ancients running. However, none of that seemed to explain his insomnia – in many ways he felt more exhilarated and alive now than he'd ever been in his life, so why was he having so much trouble sleeping? What the hell was keeping him awake? To say that Rodney was not someone who thought a great deal about his emotions would be an understatement – he was barely aware he had any, save for feeling irritable with everyone who couldn't keep up with him intellectually, which was most people. Now Rodney found himself feeling irritable with himself. "Oh for god's sake. Either get some sleep or do something useful," he muttered to himself, getting up and glancing out of the window at the beautiful sea view. As he watched the waves rippling in the inky night, he felt that familiar gnawing sensation in his stomach, a sense that something was displaced. Something wasn't right, but he had no idea what. Could it be the Wraith? Had they returned? Rodney glanced skywards, not seriously expecting to find his answer there, and he wasn't surprised by the absence of a flotilla of Wraith ships hanging threateningly overhead. "Yes, the Wraith are a constant threat, but you're not Teyla," he growled under his breath. "You wouldn't be able to sense their proximity, even if they were 10 feet away." That freaked him out so much that he glanced around just to check there weren't any Wraith lurking in his quarters, but the room was still and quiet. "Idiot," Rodney berated himself, but still he couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right – something was out of place, wasn't where it *should* be, and it was annoying him. Rodney wasn't a man who had ever acted on instinct – intellectual impulse, yes, but not instinct - so he had no way of making sense of what he was feeling. Instead, the sensation kept him awake at night, making him even more irritable than usual during the day. There was only one thing to do in the circumstances. Rodney took a deep breath and dealt with this unsettling emotion the way he dealt with most emotions – he pulled on his jacket over his pyjamas, put his shoes on, and went to work. The lab was empty and eerie when he got there. Most of the occupants of Atlantis were sleeping exhaustedly in their beds, except for the nightwatch, and Rodney felt his spirits lift. One good thing about working while everyone else was sleeping was that he wouldn't be interrupted by a constant stream of people placing idiotic demands on his time and attention. He was so pleased with this observation that he started whistling quietly to himself as he pottered around the lab, grabbing all the bits and pieces of equipment that he wanted. There was one thing in particular that had been bothering him for months, and maybe now he'd finally have the peace and quiet he needed to work on the problem. Having gathered up all he needed, Rodney took himself off to the room that housed the weapons Chair. He dumped his equipment on the floor, went over to the Chair, and examined it closely. "This bit works the drone warheads, so why do we need this bit?" he asked nobody in particular, resting his hands on the large, energy-processing cell that filled the bottom section of the Chair's central column. "It's almost as if you're trying to engage some kind of energy beam – but that's not how the Chair works. Or is it?" Another good thing about working alone, a small part of Rodney's brain observed cheerfully as he tinkered with the Chair, was that he could talk out loud to his heart's content and nobody thought him strange, or asked him any irritating questions based on what he'd just said. Rodney puzzled over the problem, engrossed in thought, for a couple of hours, until it suddenly occurred to him that it was the middle of the night, his research on the Chair was going nowhere, and he was finally feeling tired. He pondered going back to bed, but the problem with the Chair was still bugging him, so instead he decided to take a nap, and then begin again when he felt more refreshed. "Might as well make use of the damn thing," he muttered to himself, sitting in the Chair. The Chair lit up as he sat down, but he quashed any thoughts of weaponry or battle and the Chair's lights quickly dimmed down again, to the level of a child's nightlight. "Thank you," Rodney told it, wondering whether he needed the Doctor's help to solve this particular problem. The Ancients' technology was so inextricably linked with physiology that sometimes it was hard to tell where physics left off and biology took over.
Rodney
curled onto his side and closed his eyes, wondering whether he should call
Beckett in straight away, or wait until morning. He wasn't remotely
concerned about disturbing the doctor at this hour of the night, but his
eyes stung, and he was aware that he needed some rest if he was to be at
his best. Just a catnap would do – but now that he'd closed his eyes, that
other sensation had come back again – the gnawing sensation in his stomach
that had kept him awake in the first place. "Now what the hell was…?" he began, but was interrupted by a call on his headset. "Rodney…" Major Sheppard's voice. Typical. The man had no sense of timing. "I'm busy," Rodney interrupted, getting to his feet and venturing back to the Chair, which, now that it no longer had an occupant, had stopped glowing that bright shade of blue. "I've found something," Sheppard told him. "So have I!" Rodney replied. "I said it first," Sheppard countered smoothly. Rodney stopped, arm half outstretched towards the Chair, and rolled his eyes heavenward.
"It's not
a contest, Major. I'm sure whatever you've found is very interesting but I
happen to think that…" "Yes sir, Major Bossyboots sir," Rodney griped, doing a mock salute as he tore himself reluctantly away from the Chair.
The lower west wing was one of those areas of the city that nobody had widely explored. In fact, Rodney wasn't entirely sure that any of the Atlantis team had ever been in this particular wing of the city – they were slowly exploring Atlantis, and finding new things all the time, but Rodney doubted that what Sheppard had found was important enough to interrupt his own crucial research into weaponry that could protect them from the next Wraith attack, whenever that came. "What is it?" Rodney growled as he stomped into the only room on Level 5 that had its door open. "I'm very busy…" He stopped short. Ahead of him was a peculiar little tableau of people; Sheppard was standing in the middle of the room, with Beckett on one side and Teyla on the other – and standing in front of them was the hazy, glowing, hologrammatic figure of a woman in a long white robe. "Oh great. You've brought me all the way down here to see another one of those welcome holograms," Rodney complained.
"It's not
a welcome hologram," Sheppard said, remaining unmoving. "This one is
interactive. She answers questions." "Uh, Major Sheppard kicked it," Beckett said, in an apologetic tone.
"He did
what?! This is sensitive Ancient technology, Major – you don't take your
size 10 boots to it just because it’s not…" "It's not a *television*, Major," Rodney reprimanded irritably. "I know that, Rodney. But it does have a similar signal-based operating system," Sheppard replied patiently, which, Rodney had to admit, was true enough. "And besides, kicking it worked. Now, can you fix it?" "Well, if you haven't completely broken the damn thing…" Rodney muttered, fiddling with the controls. Nothing happened. There was no visible sign of damage. Rodney nudged it slightly with his foot. Nothing. Swallowing his pride, and totally ignoring Sheppard's "I told you so" look, Rodney swung his foot against it more forcefully, and the hologram fizzed into life again. Her gaze alighted on Sheppard first, and she bowed towards him, a deep, low bow. "You are very welcome here, My Lord Protector," she said, gazing at Sheppard with what looked, to Rodney, suspiciously like an expression of adoration on her hazy features.
"My Lord
what?" Rodney exploded. "And I thought you said she wasn't a welcome
hologram?" "Welcome, My Lady Warrior," she said, giving Teyla a little bow.
Beckett
gave a little cough and she turned gracefully towards him. "And you too,
My Lord Healer. I am pleased to see you, My Lord. How may I be of
assistance?" The hologram turned at the sound of his voice. "Ah – I was wondering where you were, My Lord Devoter," she said, giving him the same little bow she had given to the others.
"What?"
Rodney spun around, gazing at the others. "What the hell is a Lord Devoter?
What does that mean? How come the rest of you get to have all the fancy
and yet weirdly appropriate titles – well except for you, Major - but
Healer…Warrior…I can see where she's coming from there with Beckett and
Teyla. Surely she's got my title wrong? Surely she means…I don't know…"
"I was
thinking more of My Lord…"
"No! My
Lord Scientist…or My Lord…" Rodney gave up. "Anyway, you said she was interactive?" "Yep – ask her a question," Sheppard said. "Okay. Why did you just call him My Lord Protector?" Rodney asked, because the grand title Sheppard had been given was annoying him.
The
hologram gave him another of those bright smiles. "One Lord Protector is
born in every generation," she said. "Sometimes our people have no need of
them, and sometimes they are vital for our defence."
"You say
this Lord Protector is born?" Beckett asked, edging forward, his eyes
glowing with a fascinated intellectual zeal that Rodney recognized all too
well. "Are you saying it's a genetic thing? That there's something in his
genetic makeup that makes him the Lord Protector?" "Sorry – I got delayed. What is it that you've found?" she asked, and then stopped short when she saw the hologram. "A message from the Ancients?" she asked, her eyes lighting up. "An *interactive* message," Rodney said, puffing up proudly, as if he'd found the hologram and not Sheppard. "She speaks to us?" Elizabeth stepped forward, a note of wonder in her voice. "I'm pleased to meet you. My name is Dr Elizabeth Weir and I am in charge of the Atlantis mission."
The
hologram ignored her. It didn't even turn in Elizabeth's direction, but
remained looking expectantly at Beckett. The team all glanced at each
other, unsure what was happening. "No…she appears to be working…but she doesn't appear to be aware that Elizabeth is speaking to her," Rodney said, confused. "Could you tell us how many people are in the room?" Sheppard asked her.
The
hologram turned back to him and smiled again. "Certainly. There are 4 of
you. My Lord Protector, My Lady Warrior, My Lord Healer and of course my
Lord Devoter." Her face creased into a fond smile as she gazed at Rodney.
"He would never be far away." "Because, of course, wherever My Lord…" At that moment, irritatingly, the hologram fizzled again and disappeared. "Damn," Rodney growled. "She couldn't see me at all. She didn’t even know I was in the room," Elizabeth pondered in a puzzled tone. "And what were all those strange names she gave to you?" She glanced around at them, a worried knot creasing her forehead. "I think I might have an explanation," Beckett said, while Rodney went back to fiddling with the hologram's controls to see if he could bring her back. "She mentioned that Major Sheppard had something in his genetic makeup – something she recognized instantly - and I'm guessing by the way she was talking that she recognized something similar in all of us too – except you, Doctor Weir," Beckett added apologetically. "I think she was designed by the Ancients to only recognize certain gene patterns, so they could be sure they were only giving information to the right people. Now, Major Sheppard, as we all know, has the strongest form of the Ancient gene that we've yet encountered. I have it in a more minor form, and so does Teyla. Dr McKay responded successfully to genetic manipulation, but it didn't work for you, Dr Weir. I can only presume that she is programmed not to respond to or recognize you if your genes don't fit." "Genes don't fit. Very droll," Rodney acknowledged as he continued to work on the hologram. After a few minutes he tried kicking the generator again, and when that didn't work, he had to admit defeat.
"Maybe
she needs to recharge her batteries or something," Sheppard said. "You're the scientist, not me, My Lord Devoter," Sheppard grinned. "Maybe you have a better explanation?" "You only want her fixed so she can continue to flatter your ego with all this 'Lord Protector' nonsense," Rodney jibed, stung because he hated to admit that he had no idea how to get the hologram working again. "You just don't like the name she gave you," Sheppard replied, his hazel eyes twinkling with amusement. "Rodney, is there a reason why you're in your pyjamas?" Elizabeth asked, breaking up the sniping between the two of them. For the first time, Rodney became aware that everyone else was in uniform, while he was still in his night garb. "I was working," he said stiffly.
"That
would explain why you're not in uniform then," Elizabeth said sweetly. "Actually, it's 9.15 in the morning," Beckett chipped in.
"Is it?"
Rodney glanced at his watch, wondering where the night had gone – and that
reminded him of his project with the Chair. "So it is!" he exclaimed.
"Well, this has been fun, but I don't have time to stand around here
chatting. I have work to do." And so saying, he turned on his heel and
headed towards the door. "I have important scientific projects to work on, Major. I'm sure you can get the hologram working all by yourself with all that specialist, protectoring-type knowledge you have. Perhaps you could try kicking it again - you're good at that," Rodney suggested with a superior smile, and with that he sauntered back to his quarters, feeling extremely refreshed. He always liked having the last word. Especially when it was with Major Sheppard. ~*~ The break seemed to do Rodney good, because once he'd had a shower, changed into his uniform, and returned to the weapon room, he felt positively inspired and raring to return to the project he'd left behind. He put all thoughts of being a 'Lord Devoter', whatever the hell that meant, out of his mind, and turned the full force of his concentration on his work – with the result that less than 2 hours later he had the breakthrough he had been looking for. "Ingenious!" he declared, crouching beside the Chair with a look of wonderment on his face. All he needed to do now was to test his theory, and there was only one person who could help him do that. True, that person would be reluctant, but then he always was where the Chair was concerned. Rodney didn't doubt for a moment that he could railroad him into aiding him though. -He hit the intercom and said, in a tone of immense self-satisfaction, "Doctor Beckett, your presence is required."
Beckett
was predictably wary, but Rodney used his usual tactic of not taking no
for an answer, and once he explained the genetic and physiological
implications of his experiments, he could see Beckett's curiosity become
engaged despite his misgivings. Before long, they were deeply immersed in
the project, and would have continued that way if they hadn't been
interrupted a few hours later by Dr Weir's voice on the intercom.
"What is
it NOW?" Rodney sighed. "Honestly, can't a man immerse himself in a
perfectly respectable scientific project without being subjected to
constant interruptions from…" "I don’t care what the hell you're working on," Elizabeth said. "The Wraith are back." "What?" Rodney exchanged a worried glance with Beckett. "But they left!" he protested. "The cloaking device worked – they thought we'd destroyed the city!" "Well obviously now they've changed their minds and they're on their way back," Elizabeth replied. "I need you both in the control room now." Rodney didn't even bother to reply. He and Beckett both left the room at a run.
A council
of war was already in session by the time Rodney and Beckett arrived and
took their seats.
"Are we
sure that they've seen through our ruse about destroying the city?"
Beckett asked desperately. "Maybe they're just coming back for a bit of a
second look?"
"How much
time do we have before they get here?" Rodney asked. "Are we sure there aren't any other ways to attack them?" Elizabeth asked, gazing around at her room full of experts. Nobody met her eye. "That's the problem – we're all out of options." Sheppard folded his arms across his chest and glanced at Rodney for confirmation. Rodney ignored him. He had an idea – he just wasn't sure whether to mention it. "The truth is they want Atlantis, and they are not going to stop until they get it," Teyla said earnestly. "I know the Wraith mind – we have woken them from their hibernation and antagonized them beyond endurance – we even fooled them into thinking we had destroyed ourselves. They are angry, and they will not stop until they have annihilated us, claimed Atlantis for their own…and found their way to Earth." "So we either destroy the city ourselves and gate back to Earth, or we go down with the city," Elizabeth mused. "If we're going to gate out of here we'll have to do it before they arrive. It'll take one hell of a lot of power to get us to Earth, and the ZPM won't be able to hold the shield and gate us home at the same time. So once they arrive…it'll be too late for us to escape," Rodney informed the room. "Those who want to should be given the choice to leave – while they can still gate to safety," Elizabeth said. "Okay. But I'm not going anywhere," Sheppard said stubbornly. "Anyone else want to gate out of here before they arrive?" He glanced around the room, but was met only by silence, and the shaking of heads. "Fine. Then we stay. And we fight," Sheppard said.
"The
Chair…" Elizabeth began. "Well…not quite useless," Rodney said softly, glancing at Beckett. "McKay, we're not ready, we've barely tested the thing and those ships are less than 10 hours away!" Beckett exclaimed. "Do you have any other suggestions?" Rodney snapped. Beckett sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes.
"They
won't like it," he said. "Well…there is something," Rodney said. "The Chair uses drone warheads, we know that, but it also has some kind of aggressive energy targeting beam as well."
"Any
energy beam powerful enough to destroy those ships will take too much
power away from the shield – I can't risk it," Elizabeth told him.
"Human
energy?" Elizabeth repeated blankly. Sheppard though, that lazy half-smile of his hiding a sharper mind than most people gave him credit for, was already one step ahead of the rest of them. "What kind of energy, McKay?" he asked softly, dangerously, leaning back in his chair and fixing the scientist with a piercing stare. Rodney swallowed, and glanced at Beckett who had gone a curious shade of salmon pink. "Human sexual energy," Rodney said, and then he ploughed on quickly before anyone could react. "The ancients designed the weapon to be able to make use of whatever natural resources exist in the absence of any external power source so…" "Hang on, back up a bit, Rodney," Elizabeth interrupted him, at just about the same time as uproar broke out in the room. "Are you saying that in order to activate that beam, someone has to sit in that Chair and, uh…have sex?"
"Well
that's a very crude definition of how it works. We're talking about
complicated Ancient technology here, whereby…" "Uh…yes," Rodney blinked. "Someone has to sit in the Chair, and, uh…look, I don't know what all the fuss is about! This is good news! It's an instantly available energy source – it costs us nothing, and if it works then it'll create enough juice to zap all those Wraith ships right out of the sky. Okay, what did I just say?" Rodney whispered to Beckett, noticing the shocked expressions on their faces. "I think the word 'juice' was possibly a little bit inappropriate in the circumstances," Beckett whispered back to him. "How on earth did you discover all this, Rodney?" Elizabeth asked quietly. Rodney felt himself flushing. "Just a hunch," he said briskly, not wanting to dwell on that. A memory of Samantha Carter removing her top while talking about ZPMs came to mind, and that wasn't something he wanted to share with anyone. "Doctor – do you agree with McKay's assessment?" Elizabeth asked Beckett who was now flushing a fetching shade of bright beetroot as he remembered the toe-curling testing process Rodney had just put him through.
"Yes,
Elizabeth," Beckett said, in a strangled tone.
"Well…"
Rodney paused. The look Sheppard was giving him wasn't mild at all – it
was deadly dangerous, and Rodney was suddenly aware that he was treading
on some very thin ice. "Well, you *are* the Lord Protector!" Rodney exploded. "You seemed to like the title well enough earlier, and this would be…well, protecting. And let's face it, you're the one with the fancy Ancient gene that sets all the technology in this place whirring. You've also got the technical and military knowledge to know how to use the Chair to best advantage." "And would this be a solo mission?" Sheppard asked, those hazel eyes of his giving nothing away. "Because, I seem to remember from biology class that this kind of thing usually requires two people." "We don't think…that is," Beckett said weakly, "uh, a, uh, solo mission wouldn't provide the power we need to activate the beam. You can get a rise out of it that way, but you can't get enough to do any real damage." "Who's using the inappropriate language now?" Rodney hissed at him. "Sorry," Beckett stammered. "Did you guys actually *test* this?" Elizabeth asked, the expression on her face one of barely disguised horror. "Well…kind of…" Rodney replied. "Some of it we extrapolated from the available evidence, obviously."
"So,
we've established that it has to be me, with a partner. Do I get to
choose, or do you guys get to decide that too?" Sheppard asked. "Major, there's something interesting about your genetic makeup – not just in the obvious way that you can operate Ancient technology, but there's also something else, something that's been puzzling me for a long time. I can figure out most of what that special gene you've got does, but there's one part of it that makes no sense. I think it might be that which needs to activate the weapon – and if that's the case, then you need to have a partner who has the corresponding gene – kind of like a key fitting into a lock." "Supposing there isn't anyone on Atlantis with that gene?" Sheppard asked quietly. "We just have to hope there is. Otherwise…" Beckett shrugged. "We're all doomed?" Sheppard suggested.
"It kind
of looks that way, yes," Beckett said apologetically. "I've already got
everyone's blood samples and genetic profiles – I could run a test on them
and find out who the best candidates are," he said, glancing at Elizabeth. "You can't seriously tell me you're happy about this!" "No, I can't. But I have a duty here, and I'm prepared to do it. Why don't we tell everyone what's going on – if they agree to have their blood samples analysed then fine…if not, then that's cool too. It'll be entirely voluntary. And I'm not just saying all this because I'm looking for an easy lay," Sheppard added, leaning back in his chair with a look that dared anyone to argue with him. Nobody did.
"Damn.
So, we have a supersonic beam operated by sexual energy. The Ancients –
they were kind of kinky weren't they?" Sheppard said, musingly. There was a long silence. Everyone stared at Rodney. "I'll be in my laboratory if anyone needs me," Rodney said with as much dignity as he could muster, getting up stiffly and stalking out of the room. Somehow having the last word hadn't been quite as much fun that time around. ~*~ A few hours passed, and nobody ventured down to the lab to see him. Rodney was both pleased and anxious about that. Perhaps he'd gone too far out on a limb this time. All the same, the threat remained real, and the Wraith ships got closer with each passing second so Rodney didn't think he'd done anything wrong in drawing his discovery to their attention. He busied himself boosting the ZPM and strengthening the shield – there was little else he could do. Finally, a soft-voiced Beckett contacted him.
"Dr McKay
– I've finished the blood analyses. D'you want to come up here?" he asked. Sheppard, Teyla, and Weir were all standing around the perimeter of the Doctor's office when he got there, each of them looking decidedly uncomfortable as they waited for the Doctor to impart the news. "So, is it an exact match, or a partial match?" Rodney asked. "Oh it's very exact," Beckett replied. "Surprisingly so. There were some partial matches but this one was stunning. Look." He pointed to the swirling picture on his screen. "This here is the Ancient gene that Major Sheppard has. You see this bit." His finger alighted on a strangely shaped, jutting-out part of the gene. "We found others that sort of work with it." Beckett pulled up various other strange shapes, some of which fitted the original better than others. "But then we found this." Beckett clicked on another picture, somersaulted the gene so it was upside down, and slotted it over the tip of Sheppard's gene. The two clicked into place so that there was no evidence of the join whatsoever – it could have all been one complete gene, not two separate genes from two completely different people.
"That's
extraordinary," Elizabeth gasped. "So, who's the lucky lady?" Rodney asked, glancing up at Sheppard, and feeling yet another wave of red-hot annoyance surge deep in his gut.
"Well,
that's where it gets awkward," Beckett murmured. "I'd have to ask that
this information doesn't go any further than this room."
Beckett
glanced at Sheppard, and bit his lip. "I'm not sure you're going to like
this," he said. "It's you, Doctor McKay," Beckett said softly. "Hmmm?" Rodney gazed at Beckett with a glazed expression. "I'm sorry?" Sheppard gave a little snort.
"It's
you, Rodney," Beckett said, in an apologetic tone. Teyla gasped, and
Elizabeth made a strange sound in the back of her throat that sounded
oddly like a dolphin caught in a net. "It's your gene. Your gene fits Major Sheppard's – you’re the match, Rodney," Beckett told him. The room went very quiet. Rodney gazed in horror at the genes spiralling happily together on Beckett's computer screen, and then, in shock, he glanced up and met Major Sheppard's amused hazel eyes. "There must be some mistake," Rodney croaked, his throat suddenly going dry. "It's not possible! I mean...I don't even have the Ancient gene naturally - you had to give me the genetic manipulation therapy...so it can't be me!" "I'm afraid it is, Rodney," Beckett told him sympathetically. "It appears that the therapy we gave you activated a dormant gene you already have - although it's possible that the dormant gene had already been activated even without the therapy, simply by being in contact with Major Sheppard because he has a dominant version of the gene. There's a strange kind of switching mechanism on it that I haven't quite figured out yet." "But...but..." Rodney floundered, looking for arguments to refute what he was being told and not coming up with any. "I don't know what you're worried about, Rodney," Sheppard told him, slapping him casually on the shoulder. "It's a simple matter of two people doing what comes naturally, after all," he said sweetly, quoting Rodney's own words back at him. "But when I said that…" Rodney blustered. "When you said that you thought this would be about me – not you. It was simpler then wasn't it?" Sheppard raised an eyebrow. "No! I didn't realize…I mean…when I said that, I just assumed, naturally, as you would, that your genetic partner would be female! Not male!" "Well, I told you the Ancients were kinky, but you wouldn't have it," Sheppard replied, although his tone was kind, and lacked the 'I told you so' bite that Rodney had been expecting. "And I told both of you that nobody has to go through with this," Elizabeth said. "I'm not issuing any orders. We'll do our best to fight them – this would be a worst case scenario, and it'll be up to you two whether you feel able to go ahead with it." "Thank you, Elizabeth. However, I'd be a hypocrite after what I said in that meeting if I turned around at this stage and refused," Rodney said stiffly. "Let's hope it doesn't come to it. Now, I think you two might need some time to discuss this recent turn of events," Elizabeth said, nodding to both Beckett and Teyla and indicating that they should leave Sheppard and McKay alone.
Rodney stared glumly at the whirling joined genes on Beckett's screen while the others left. In all honesty, he didn't have a clue where to look. He just knew that the last place on earth he wanted to look right now was into Sheppard's hazel eyes. "I'm still finding it hard to understand…" he muttered to himself when they were alone." I mean…why? Why would our genes match like this?" "Will the weapon work, Rodney?" Sheppard asked softly, and Rodney slowly raised his gaze to meet those searching hazel eyes. "I don't know," Rodney replied. "Probably not. I mean, it's absurd isn't it? No, it won't work. There's no point even trying. Don't worry, Major. I won't tie you down and force you to go through with what must be a pretty unpleasant prospect." He shuddered at the thought of it – of course Sheppard must be completely freaked out at the very idea of… Rodney couldn't even go there in his mind, and he pushed the image away.
"Rodney,
you're a brilliant scientist. You're also arrogant, irritating and a royal
pain in the ass, but I've never known you get anything in your field
wrong. This is your field, Rodney, not mine, and I think you believe it'll
work," Sheppard said, advancing on Rodney, never allowing his gaze to
drop.
"You know
– you're not nearly as surprised about this as I thought you would be," he
said. "No…not that…this." Rodney waved his hand at the image of the genes still merrily twisting away onscreen. "You don't seem surprised that it's me, that I'm your genetic match."
"I got
the hologram working again," Sheppard said. Rodney blinked. "No. It's still the same conversation. I learned quite a bit from that hologram. You might want to go and talk to her yourself. It might help you make up your mind." "Make up my mind about what?" Rodney asked. Sheppard's smile was slow, and it twisted the edges of his lips in a way that Rodney found curiously compelling. "About what your decision will be in a few hours' time," he said. "You're not seriously suggesting that we go through with this?" Rodney hissed, dumbfounded. Even leaving aside his own feelings, and, as usual, he had no idea what they might be, he couldn't believe that Sheppard would want in any way to be intimate with him. "Come on, Major. I must be the last person in Atlantis you'd want to have sex with!" Sheppard gave a wry little smile and his hand gently took hold of Rodney's shoulder and squeezed, creating a jolt of electricity that surprised Rodney – and burned him all the way down to his gut. "Go and see the hologram, Rodney," he said softly. "Then decide what you want to do. I'm not putting any more pressure on you than that – one way or the other. Now, I have a city to protect, so if you'll excuse me." And then he was gone. ~*~
Rodney
stood where he was for a moment, wondering how the hell his life had
become so complicated in the past half hour. Before then, it had all
seemed relatively simple, but now he was completely at sea and he wasn't
used to that sensation. Rodney had coped very well all his life by burying
himself in his work and his intellect, and ignoring any complicated areas
of existence, like relationships and emotions, and now he felt as if he'd
just run full tilt into a brick wall, and was lying dazed and winded on
the ground. Rodney sleepwalked his way down to the west wing, completely lost in thought. How on earth could this have happened? Were the Ancients *really* that kinky? And why? Why, above all else, did it have to be him? Just the idea of getting naked with Major Sheppard freaked him out, let alone either of them actually *touching* the other. The hologram sprang into life when he stepped into the room, instantly activating once he got close enough to the sensory unit where she was stored. "My Lord Devoter." She bowed deeply and Rodney started feeling a little better; he rather liked being bowed to. "Okay – that's where we need to start. What on earth is a Lord Devoter when it's at home?" Rodney asked tetchily. "My Lord is named for his devotion to the Lord Protector," the hologram said. "My devotion to…? Oh for god's sake!" Rodney screwed up his face. "The only person I'm devoted to, in case you haven't noticed, is myself!"
"I don't
believe that's true," the hologram said, her voice grave and low. "Maybe
you do not know yourself as well as you think you do, My Lord." "Well…I…" Rodney had a sudden image of Major Sheppard, lying on the floor of the puddle-jumper with a giant, life-sucking insect attached to his neck; he remembered the sick feeling in his stomach as he watched Sheppard's life ebbing away, and how he had used every single ounce of his ingenuity to save him. He also recalled leaving the safety of his hiding place and going to the Major's aid when the other man had been locked in deadly combat with a powerful Wraith adversary, and then there was the time when he'd taken a knife wound to his arm rather than give away the Major's whereabouts when the city had been taken by the Genii. "Okay – maybe I have saved his life on one or two small occasions," Rodney said, totally surprised to find that was true. "But I would have done that for anyone." "Have you always been so brave then, My Lord?" she asked him, a knowing twinkle in her eye.
"Well,
I…" Rodney remembered his life before Atlantis – before he met Major
Sheppard. "I wouldn’t exactly say I was ever all that brave, no," he
admitted, rubbing a weary hand across his eyes. "What? That's it?!" Rodney exclaimed. "I exist purely to worship Major John Sheppard? How insulting!" He pulled himself up to his full height and glared at the hologram. "I am one of the foremost physicists on Earth. I'm extremely clever and I have several degrees from various universities to prove it!" "My Lord, your title was not meant to be an insult," she told him gravely. "In my time, your title would have earned you the greatest respect, equal in rank to the Lord Protector himself. And as for your other talents – I would expect no less. When a Lord or Lady Devoter is born, they are always blessed with many gifts. Only a truly worthy person would be a suitable mate and consort for a Protector of the people, after all."
"Mate and
consort?" Rodney gaped at her. "What do you mean 'Mate and consort'?" "Are you sure you've got the right man?" Rodney asked, stupefied by this information. "Yes, My Lord. I am programmed to respond only to those who are able to activate me, and only those with the appropriate genetic heritage may do so." She bowed her head. "I would not be speaking to you if what I say is not true."
"Okay."
Rodney took a deep breath. "Today is just one surprise after another," he
muttered. "All right, let's back up a bit here. I think you need to start
at the beginning and explain all this stuff to me." "Yes, yes, I know all that," Rodney said irritably. She smiled at him, not the least bit fazed by his bad temper. "We are skilled geneticists," she said, "and it occurred to us that one day we might not always be so knowledgeable. We could not rule out the fact that one day, our society might fall back into ignorance." Rodney nodded. "Well that's pretty much what happened. We call ourselves the second evolution," he told her. She nodded. "I understand. Many years have passed since I was created and times have changed. In order to keep our race as strong as we could, we programmed a genetic code to activate in every generation, providing a leader who would protect their people with courage and ingenuity. This man or woman would, by virtue of their genetic inheritance, face many trials and pitfalls. It was therefore decided that they should be provided with companions for their travails; an exceptionally gifted healer, to keep him strong and healthy, and to tend his wounds; a warrior, to be his bodyguard, and fight at his side, loyal and strong; and a soul mate, loving and true, to care for him, and keep him happy, both in and out of the bedroom." The smile she gave him didn't contain one iota of lasciviousness at that last part. "But…but…I'm a *man*," Rodney told her. She gazed at him blankly. "And Major Sheppard is a man," he prompted her, trying to get her to see the difficulty. "So there must be some mistake," he announced firmly. She shook her head. "No. It was designed this way. My people had no taboos about a man taking another man as his mate, or a woman taking a woman. It would not have factored into our genetic code one way or the other. It is irrelevant to us," she said, in a distant, hazy voice that showed she had absolutely no concept what the problem was. "Well my people aren't quite so comfortable with it!" Rodney scowled. "I am sorry. Truly." She bowed her head. "But it was as we designed it, and it worked well for us. We attach no significance to the gender of either the Protector or the Devoter. It makes no difference – genetically the effect is the same. Wherever there is a Protector, a Devoter will be nearby, and he or she will be all and everything that the Protector requires." Rodney snorted. "Oh really? Perhaps you'd like to have a discussion with Major Sheppard on that one!" he growled. "I'm sure I wouldn't be top on his list of hot babes to share his life with." "My Lord Protector is provided with what he needs – it may not be what he thinks he wants, but it will be what he needs, and it will be his soul mate, his lover, someone good, faithful, and true."
"You
sound like a really bad love song," Rodney told her. She gave him another
of those blank stares and he sighed again. "Really – this can't be true,"
he said in despair. "Major Sheppard and I…well…" Well what, he thought to
himself? What was it about Major Sheppard that always affected him so
much, whether he wanted to admit it or not? Why did he always feel better
when the Major walked into a room, and worse when he left? Why did he seek
the man out, to talk to, and spar with, and why did he love making him
laugh so much? He thought of the way John's dark hair sometimes fell over
his forehead, and how those hazel eyes sparkled when he was amused by
something Rodney had said. And Rodney loved amusing him; he'd admit that
much. He never felt more alive when he was with John Sheppard. They
talked, and laughed – and they argued. God how they argued! "I…" Rodney stared somewhere over her left shoulder for a long time. Was that true? He really didn't understand his emotions well enough to know for sure. He did know that regardless of how he might feel, he was sure Major Sheppard didn't harbour any romantic inclinations towards him.
"Trust
me," she said, in a gentle, kind voice. "You were made for each other, My
Lord. Your feelings will be impossible to deny forever. He is your
destiny, and you his."
"In many
ways that is so, but sometimes there are stronger forces at work. My Lord
Protector's purpose is to protect his people, and yours is to keep him
happy, My Lord." "Do you think my Lord Protector would ask this of you?" the hologram asked, in a puzzled tone.
"I'd like
to see him try!" Rodney snorted.
"Hmm."
Rodney felt his pride somewhat mollified by that. He had never thought of
himself in terms of being someone else's partner, still less taking care
of and loving someone with the kind of devotion that seemed to be implicit
in the title that had just been thrust upon him, and he really didn't see
how that was going to work, to say nothing of the issue of sex, which he
barely wanted to even think about. Yet he was aware that in just a few
hours' time, that was something he was very definitely going to have to
think about, whether he liked it or not. "The Chair…the weapons chair…"
Rodney bit on his lip. "I discovered that it can transmit a powerful beam
that draws on sexual energy." "We're under attack. In a few hours' time…" "The Chair will work if it is used correctly. Others can activate and use it, but they will not be able to generate as much power as the Lord Protector will if he uses the Chair with his genetic mate," she told him gently.
"So it's
kind of like a duty?" Rodney said, brightening a little. If he could
convince himself of that then maybe he could get through this. "Yes, I thought you'd say something like that," Rodney sighed. "My signal is weakening, My Lord. I need time to re-energise," she told him, her outline flickering as she spoke. "I wish you well. My Lord Devoter must follow his heart, and trust that he has been aptly named - then all will be well." She flickered one more time, opened her mouth to say something else – and then was gone. ~*~ Rodney stayed where he was for a long time, hoping she'd re-energise quickly enough for him to speak to her again, and also simply to avoid having to go back out there, and talk to people. He was having a hard time getting his head around all this and he was acutely aware of the fact that time was running out, and the Wraith would shortly be upon them. He still wasn't sure what he was feeling; he broke out in a hot sweat at the thought of getting up close and personal with Major Sheppard, but now that he stopped to think about that reaction, he wasn't entirely sure why. Was he attracted to the Major? Even if he was, could the Major possibly be attracted to him? Rodney was not a modest man. He knew his intellect to be superior to that of just about everyone he'd ever met…but he was much less confident about his physical attractiveness. This fact took him by surprise of and by itself, but he'd never put himself out there and actually looked for a lover and thus had never had to face his own fears in that arena before. Now that all this had happened, he realized the reason *why* he never sought out relationships: he was shit scared. He'd always ignored his sexuality – he'd adopted Samantha Carter as his ideal fantasy sex object based on nothing other than a notion that she was the kind of person he *should* feel attracted to – it had been easier than figuring out the truth after all, and she was a good-looking blonde with brains so she fitted the bill quite nicely. But now that he thought about it he didn’t ever remember having actual *feelings* for her. Rodney was jolted out of his reverie by a booming sound far above him. He leapt to his feet immediately, recognising the sound instantly as being the beginning of the anticipated Wraith attack. He ran back to the control room, shoved people aside to get to his station, and grabbed Zelenka by the shoulders and ejected the man bodily from his seat. "Out of my way. What's happening? And where's Major Sheppard?" Rodney said, his mind quickly assimilating the data on the screen in front of him. There were several dots on the screen, one of them taking heavy firepower from the others. "Well?" Rodney glanced up at Elizabeth, who was standing beside him, arms crossed over her chest, looking anxious. "Major Sheppard?" Rodney prompted, too worried to even wonder why his mouth was so dry and his heart pounding so hard. Elizabeth's eyes were shadowed in concern. "He's on the Daedalus, Rodney," she told him carefully, clearly unsure what the current state of affairs was between the Major and her Head of Science. "What? But the Daedalus is…" Rodney glanced back at the screen, and flinched when he saw the Daedalus sustain another direct hit. "The Daedalus is outnumbered and under attack on all sides!" Rodney growled. "I know. I've told Caldwell to withdraw," Elizabeth said. "Well then why is he still there!" Rodney got to his feet and started pacing around his work station.
"He
is
trying to get out of there, Doctor McKay," Teyla told him softly. "The puddle
jumper is docked with the Daedalus – it was a manoeuvre Major Sheppard and
Colonel Caldwell worked out between them to buy us some more time to get
as many people off the base as possible and give the shield as long as
possible to recharge. Major Sheppard is going to fly back to Atlantis to draw off
their fire and give the Daedalus time to escape."
"He
will be
fine. He is a brilliant pilot," Teyla said, trying to calm the situation. "How is the shield holding up, Rodney?" Elizabeth asked, forcing him to tear his attention away from Sheppard's return to Atlantis. "The shield is…well it's holding," Rodney said, checking his instruments. "But this is just the beginning." He glanced back at the puddle-jumper, one eye always on its progress, watching as the little blip drew closer and closer towards Atlantis…and then suddenly faded from the screen – and didn’t reappear. "No!" Rodney felt as if his heart had stopped beating for one long, slow second, and all around him a sickly kind of silence fell. "Anyone miss me?" a familiar voice said behind him, and Rodney heard a rushing sound in his ears as the blood began to pump around his body again. "Why? Did you go anywhere?" he asked, glancing casually over his shoulder at the dishevelled figure of Major Sheppard. Sheppard grinned at him, and accepted heartfelt hugs from Elizabeth and Teyla. Rodney thought that Zelenka looked as if he wanted to hug the Major as well, and that thought irrationally annoyed him. Apparently if anyone had the right to hug the Major it was him, and he was restraining himself quite adequately so he didn't see why Zelenka couldn't do the same.
"I flew
the ship into a cluster of Wraith vessels and got Colonel Caldwell to beam
me out before it hit," Sheppard said. "That's two ships less to bombard us," Sheppard replied placidly. "And it bought us valuable evacuation and re-charging time. Is everyone out who needs to be out, Elizabeth?"
"Yes,
Major. There's just a handful left on Atlantis, but the shield's up now so
nobody else can gate out of here." "What's the status of the shields, Rodney?" Elizabeth asked. Rodney didn't reply. He felt as if his brain had disengaged from his body, and he no longer had the power to actually talk.
"Down to
40%," Zelenka said, looking over Rodney's shoulder. "We probably have
about two hours before it fails and then…boom!" He waved his hands around
expressively. "Rodney," Sheppard said again, softly, calmly, in a tone meant only for him. Rodney swallowed hard and stayed where he was. Nobody said anything. He heard a soft sigh behind him, and then the sound of footsteps and when he looked around, Sheppard had gone. Rodney gazed after him for a moment, lost in a haze of panic, unable to think clearly. Then he glanced up sharply, searching out those occupants of the room who knew what the blood tests had shown up; Beckett was leaning against one wall, his expression carefully neutral, studiously not meeting Rodney's eye. Teyla was standing by Rodney's side, her hand poised as if she wished to touch him, looking down at him with an expression of intense kindness in her eyes. Elizabeth…Rodney couldn't even meet her expectant, steely gaze. She wouldn't hesitate, he thought. Sheppard hadn't hesitated either. Rodney found himself getting to his feet. "The weapons Chair still has some drone warheads," he muttered. "Major Sheppard will…uh…need some help..." His voice tailed off and he scuttled out of there, eyes fixed firmly on his boots. He loved this city and he loved the people in it, although he wouldn't admit that to them of course. If the worst came to the worst, then Elizabeth would order the self-destruct rather than surrender Atlantis into the hands of the Wraith, and then this city, this beautiful city, and all the knowledge of the Ancients, would be lost to them forever – to say nothing of the fact that they'd all die with it. Rodney felt his pace quicken until he was running. He ran full pelt back to the weapons room, skidded straight through the door, and came to a halt, breathing hard. Major Sheppard was already seated on the Chair, and he glanced around as Rodney made his entrance.
"Glad you
could make it," he said.
"That's
it. Last ones," Sheppard said. Rodney nodded, and went slowly back over to
the door.
"So,
Major. How do we do this?" Rodney asked, amazed by how calm his voice
sounded when compared to the sensation of total panic in his stomach. "I
mean…you have to sit in the Chair, obviously, so I'm not sure where I
should go exactly. The Chair isn't huge…not designed for two…although
actually it IS designed for two so we just have to find a way to fit…" "From the way the Chair is responding, it looks like Doctor Beckett's genetic analysis might actually be correct. Astonishing," Rodney said, unsure where to put his hands to keep himself from falling off his perch. "Idiot," Sheppard said fondly. "Did you ever doubt it?" "Well…no," Rodney admitted reluctantly. "It did seem pretty conclusive – between that and that bloody hologram."
"Yeah."
Sheppard gave a small chuckle, his gaze fixed firmly on Rodney in a way
that made Rodney's skin feel hot.
"Uh,
okay. We'll kiss then. Kissing's good," Rodney whimpered when Sheppard
released him. "Of me?" Sheppard gave a little laugh, his hand still gently rubbing Rodney's arm. "No…of this…of us…of sex!" Rodney said, way beyond trying to hold onto any aspect of his pride. Sheppard gazed at him steadily. "I mean, come on…have you ever…with a guy before?" Rodney asked. "As a matter of fact, yes," Sheppard told him. "I've been pretty exploratory in my time. I like sex, Rodney."
"Well so
do I!" Rodney countered. "I think," he added, frowning.
"You mean
with anyone other than myself?" Rodney swallowed hard, keeping his gaze
fixed firmly on his boots. This was one of those dark secrets he had never
intended to share with anyone, and he dreaded the look of pity and
ridicule he expected to see in Sheppard's eyes. "Yeah." Sheppard sat back in the Chair and loosened his belt a little. Rodney swallowed hard again. Having got himself comfortable, Sheppard reached out and smoothed his hand through Rodney's hair. "So how come? A good-looking guy like you. How did you manage to avoid sex for all these years?" Sheppard said, his hand causing sparks of molten electricity to spark up and down Rodney's spine." "Oh please, Major. I may be God's gift to science, but I don't pretend I'm anything special in the looks department," Rodney snorted. "Really? I always thought you were kind of cute," Sheppard said, his eyes fixed firmly on Rodney's mouth. "What?" Rodney began, but his astonishment was kissed away as Major Sheppard pulled him down for another long, deep kiss. This one was even sweeter than the last, and when finally Sheppard released him, Rodney hung there, his lips slightly apart, moaning softly to himself.
"Yeah.
Cute," Sheppard said. "I like brainy guys – you've got that geek chic
thing going on." "No." Sheppard got up, and the Chair's lights faded immediately. Rodney stood there, bare-chested, feeling suddenly ridiculously stupid and exposed. "I won't do it your way, Rodney – I can't be that soulless - so you're going to have to do it my way or we don't do this at all," Sheppard told him, placing his hands on Rodney's bare back. Rodney shivered and nearly jumped out of his skin as Sheppard's hands burned his flesh. "I thought you were supposed to be the Lord Protector – I thought you were supposed to want to save the city and the people at any cost?" Rodney muttered bitterly, trying to ignore those firm, warm hands on his shoulders.
"And I
thought you were supposed to be the Lord Devoter," Sheppard said, his
voice suspiciously close to Rodney's ear. His mouth nuzzled Rodney's neck,
warm and inviting. "Dedicated to my personal happiness at all times." "That's why you wanted to keep this so cold and clinical? Because you thought I wouldn't get off on you and it'd hurt more if you were really into it? Rodney – trust me, you really don't have to worry about that. You turn me on. Look." Sheppard took hold of Rodney's hand and directed it to the front of his pants. Rodney gave a little gasp of surprise to find that the Major was not only well on his way to being rock hard, but also that he was very impressively endowed.
"Okay
now?" Sheppard asked, stealing another kiss from Rodney's willing mouth.
Rodney wondered if there was some kind of special pheromone in Sheppard's
kisses because it seemed to him that each time they kissed, Rodney became
less and less able to think straight. "What should I do?" he asked, unsure where to put his hands, and anxious not to completely squash the Major. "Well, if you could just relax, that'd be a start," Sheppard said, with one of those lazy half grins of his. His hands slid down the back of Rodney's pants and began stroking Rodney's ass. "Oh my god!" Rodney moaned. "Oh shit!"
"Good?"
Sheppard asked, his hands continuing their insistent stroking. "Okay," Rodney agreed, uncertainly. "Did you bring…um…are there things we need?" he asked. "Taken care of." Sheppard patted his jacket pocket.
"Oh…one
small thing," Rodney said, putting his scientist hat back on again. "No
condoms." "It's a technology thing. I think it kind of needs flesh on flesh in order to work properly." Rodney gestured with his head to the Chair, which was now humming loudly and glowing an intense shade of electric blue. "No problem," Sheppard said, his lips slightly swollen from kissing, his dark hair tousled, and those lazy eyes of his dark with arousal. Rodney felt his own already half-hard cock harden even more in appreciation of the sight. "Are you okay with that?" Sheppard asked. "Because I'm guessing that as I'm going to be working the beam, that I have to be lying back…which means there's only one way we can do this," he said carefully. Rodney swallowed hard. "I had figured that out for myself, Major," he said in a strangled kind of voice. "You've really gotta call me John if we're going to have hot sex, Rodney."
"John.
Right. Okay. John." Rodney nodded fiercely.
"Understood, Major," Rodney replied stiffly. "Uh, John," he added as an
afterthought. "No… I'm doing it," Rodney said, flushing a bright shade of pink. He took a deep breath, undid his belt, shoved his pants and briefs down to his ankles, and then realised he hadn't taken off his boots so he hopped around in an ungainly fashion for several seconds until he had finally managed to remove every single article of clothing and then turned to Major Sheppard again, feeling not only stupid, but also extremely self-conscious now that he was naked. He needn't have worried – Sheppard had been busy getting naked himself, and when Rodney turned around he was completely nude – and sporting a very large erection. Rodney found himself gazing at it, dumbfounded, and completely forgot his own embarrassment. "I want you – now," Sheppard said, grabbing Rodney's wrist and pulling him back down on him again. Rodney went very willingly, and dared to lean in for a kiss of his own, which Sheppard was all too eager to oblige him with. Rodney could feel the heat of skin on skin, and his cock throbbed insistently. He shifted, and their cocks touched, sending a jolt of pure, molten pleasure through Rodney's body. "Oh god…" he moaned.
"I need
you…closer…" Sheppard said, his hands clasping Rodney firmly, until they
were stretched full length on the Chair together. Rodney still felt clumsy
and awkward but Sheppard seemed to know exactly what he was doing, and his
hands wandered everywhere, arousing Rodney beyond endurance but staying
well clear of his cock, as if aware that if he touched him there Rodney
wouldn't be able to hold on. "Yes," he whimpered, burying his head down the side of Sheppard's neck. He heard a popping sound, and then a slicking sound, and then Sheppard's cool, lubed fingers circled around the rim of his anus. "Oh shit," Rodney panted, burying his head further into the Major's neck. Sheppard grasped him firmly across the waist with one hand, while sliding one finger from the other deep inside Rodney. "Oh god…that feels so good," Rodney whimpered, kissing the Major's hair, and blindly running his fingertips across Sheppard's nipples. Sheppard laughed, and turned his face to kiss Rodney's adam's apple. Rodney swallowed convulsively, and gave another gasp as he felt two fingers push inside him. Sheppard certainly knew what he was doing, as he expertly finger-fucked Rodney for several long minutes, and then two fingers became three, and Rodney found himself rocking in time to that insistent caress. His cock felt so hard he thought it might explode. How had he ever thought that solo sex could be anywhere near as good as the real thing? This was like something out of a different galaxy – quite literally – astonishing that he'd had to come all the way to the Pegasus galaxy in order to finally get laid. That thought made him laugh, and Sheppard pulled him close, removed his fingers and pressed his lips against Rodney's laughing mouth. "Good huh?" he asked, as they laughed and kissed at the same time. "Wonderful," Rodney sighed.
"Okay…then I need you to trust me here, Rodney. I'm going to guide
you…okay?" "Okay…I'm ready," Rodney said, his eyes fixed determinedly on Sheppard's smiling, sweat-sheened face.
"Okay…"
Sheppard grasped his hips and placed him over his own erect cock, and then
he slid his hands back and slowly pried Rodney's buttocks apart, guiding
Rodney into position. Rodney moaned as he felt the
slick, hard penis press insistently against his anus. Much as he wanted to
feel that hard cock inside him, he wasn't sure he'd be able to just impale
himself on it. It was too much to ask – he was too inexperienced to
process all the sensations he was feeling, and he felt sure he was going
to fail. "Stay with me, Rodney," Sheppard said urgently. "This'll be good.
You just have to trust me. Do you trust me?" |