Hold On, Hold On, Hold On

Rodney stared at himself in the palm-sized mirror he held in one hand, and brought the razor up to his neck. Soap he used sparingly lathered his days-old stubble. The items had all been given to him weeks ago, but he still didn’t like to think about where they came from. The soap was flakey and hard, and bespoke some primitive farm. The razor and mirror were even more disturbing. A civilization capable of refining steel and creating such flawless glass was surely close to an industrial age: the age where it would be culled wholly and permanently.



Rodney tried not to think. He preoccupied himself with shaving. One clean stroke followed the next.



“You’re serious? I mean. . .no! That’s a terrible idea! What’s wrong with you?”



The kicker was that things really had gotten better lately. There were lights in his work area so that he didn’t have such a hard time seeing everything. The food was much improved. Better taste, more variety. He even had free time – a few hours a day, to spend as he chose. His stay had become tolerable, and his work had improved. He’d made a major discovery which meant that the project might actually succeed within years instead of decades, although he still hoped to whittle that projection down even more.



Unfortunately, the Wraith he worked with continued to be a problem. They were the ones who shoved him, hit him – hurt him, casually – as often as they could. They were the ones who stared at him hungrily, who made him feel the need to carry makeshift tool-weapons with him wherever he went. Then, it was one of them who’d finally given in to its hunger, and left Rodney with barely enough life to get himself off the floor afterward.



“This will cement my claim upon you, and give you a place in the hive even superior to that of a worshipper. No Wraith under my command would dare harm you again.”



“I’d rather just be a worshipper. Where do I sign up?”



“Even they are sometimes drained of life, especially when the crew is as hungry as this one has become. There is no other way.”



“I won’t do it. No way. Absolutely not – you’re crazy. I will not.”



Except that he would do it, and they both knew that. At this point he would do anything. Anything. He would build the Wraith weapon. He might even build a weapon that could be used on human ships, if the task was demanded of him. He was such a worthless worm of a person sometimes.



He brought the razor up to his neck and looked himself in the eye.



When Rodney was fourteen he’d realized something: it really sucked to be Rodney McKay sometimes. His classmates hated him, and so did most of his teachers. He was different. He was smart, he was talented and determined, and he wouldn’t settle for the same mediocre lives he knew they would. That was why, nearly twenty years later, while the most successful of his classmates was managing a Tim Horton’s in Windsor, Ontario, he was defending the human race in another galaxy. Because in the end, he was Rodney McKay, and they were all pathetic for not being Rodney McKay.



It was this thought that he clung to now. This thought which kept him safe when facing the worst danger in the known galaxies, which, for him, turned out to be himself, staring in the mirror, with a straight razor in his hand.



‘I will see Atlantis again,’ he thought to himself, and shaved the last patch of stubble from under his chin.



~~**~~



“So, it’s kind of like marriage?” reasoned Rodney, from what had been explained to him.



“I suppose that would be the equivalent human term for a mating union, yes.”



“What does the ‘wedding’ involve?”



“The union is in the act. Once it is done, others will know. They will sense it.”



“Ah. A telepathic thing?”



“Yes. There is no public ritual.”



“So we can’t just not and say we did?”



“No. If that were an option, believe me, I would take it.”



“Gee thanks,” remarked Rodney, without much rancor. Somehow it made him feel better to know that Todd was less than enthusiastic about this too.



“This project means that much to you?” asked Rodney.



“Yes. As much as your life means to you.”



“Okay then. I guess I have to. I mean… I will.”



~~**~~





Rodney finished shaving and wiped himself off just as Todd entered the room. The door slid shut behind him with an ominous sense of finality.



The Wraith deposited a small sachet of things onto the bed, and turned to Rodney, who remained frozen to the spot. Todd was looking at Rodney, but Rodney could only look at the floor. His hands were clasped behind him, and he could feel them making repetitive wringing motions without his consent.



When the Wraith started walking towards him, Rodney actually flinched, but managed with effort not to back away. As the Wraith approached him, Rodney closed his eyes, desperately and fruitlessly wishing he could turn off the lights. Wraith hives existed in a constant state of twilight, created by the glow emitted by the walls, and whatever happened next couldn’t be hidden by the convenient flick of a switch. At the very least, Rodney thought he should be allowed a blindfold. Then maybe some last words and a cigarette. Although in this case, he supposed, the cigarette would be for after.



A hysterical giggle burst from Rodney’s lips, which he did his best to stifle, shaking from the effort. Even when the giggling had faded, he still shook ever so slightly. Eyes screwed shut, he felt the Wraith’s hands settle onto his shoulders, gently. There they stayed until Rodney stopped trembling.



“There is one tradition,” explained the Wraith, softly. “That we remove each other’s clothing.” His hands were still on Rodney’s shoulders, or Rodney might have jerked away. Todd waited another moment, then reached out with one hand and began undoing the zippers and clasps of Rodney’s worn-out uniform vest.



~*~



It didn’t hurt. Rodney wouldn’t describe it as pain, anyway. There was a slight burning, and the feeling of being stretched. Among the items the Wraith had pulled from his sachet had been two small vials of oil, one to lubricate and the other, as far as Rodney could tell, to anesthetize. The Wraith had been very careful to apply the latter only to the one spot where it would be needed. The spot had tingled briefly, and when the Wraith began other preparations a few moments later, Rodney found it to be very accommodating.



A flat, round piece of metal had also been one of the things that Rodney had insisted he bring. This, Todd had used to cover his right palm, wrapped in strips of cloth. Rodney still feared Wraith feeding hands, and the thought of that hand touching his bare skin terrified him. The cloth that Todd had used was very soft. Rodney could feel it on his hip, where the Wraith held him steady as he thrust into Rodney at a slow, almost languid pace.



The most painful part had been when he’d had to undress Todd himself. Wraith clothes were complicated, he’d realized, full of fiddly buttons and clasps. It had been painfully embarrassing because he’d had no clothes left on himself, and as his hands roamed and patted the Wraith’s body, searching for hidden clasps, it was plainly apparent that his own body was responding to the open display of flesh. It was a problem he hadn’t had to deal with since high school gym class, and having to face it now brought back painful memories.



He liked women. He did. Rodney loved the soft curves of their bodies, their breasts, hips and thighs. It was absurd that he could be equally aroused by the hard muscle and angular lines of the fit male form. He wasn’t… like that. Yet he was. He’d just never admitted it to anyone, not even himself.



Now Todd knew his secret, and having somebody else know meant Rodney couldn’t deny it anymore. Having to be so close, having to touch him, feel the warmth radiating from his skin, smell the distinctly male scent of his body… it made his blood pump faster. It made his cheeks flush and his nerves shiver, and it made him hard.



When they were finally ready and the Wraith had led him towards the bed, he’d felt like a teenager again, unable to control his own body and deeply ashamed of it.



His erection hadn’t gone away. It bobbed just above his abdomen, brushing its leaking head against his skin with every thrust the Wraith made. Nothing seemed to help. Looking at Todd didn’t help, for all that Rodney was still afraid of him. On his back, hips and ass raised up, Rodney had an excellent if unwanted view of the Wraith fucking him slowly. The sleek muscles of his torso shifted with movement beneath his death-pale skin, taut and well-defined, powerful and alien. Watching him move created a frisson of mingled fright and arousal that sent sparks down Rodney’s spine, straight to his groin.



Closing his eyes didn’t help either, since that only made him more aware of the sound their flesh was making as the Wraith drove in again and again. Rodney wanted nothing more than to lie back and think of Atlantis, but the sheer physicality of their coupling kept him firmly in the here and now, made him aware of very little except their two bodies grinding together. The ache that was growing in his thighs from being spread wide for so long was cancelled out by the surge of pleasure he felt every time the Wraith’s member brushed a certain spot inside. He often had to bite his lip to keep from moaning.



A low rumble began deep in the Wraith’s throat, something between a purr and a growl, and he increased the pace and force of his thrusts – Rodney sensed that he was near climax. With one arm Todd reached behind the human to lift him up and pull him near. Growling ferociously, he delivered his seed deep inside of Rodney with a few powerful thrusts.



They stayed close to him for a few moments, before Todd lowered Rodney back onto the bed. The Wraith’s ragged hair made a loose curtain around his face as he looked into Rodney’s eyes. When he smiled that sly, knowing smile, Rodney even found himself able to smile back, elated as he was that it was over.



That’s it? He thought to himself. That wasn’t so bad.



Then Todd looked down, and noticing Rodney’s strained erection, reached down between them and began to stroke him.



“Oh! Really, no, you don’t have to–” Rodney managed before being silenced by the intensity of the sensation. He hadn’t realized how long and how much he’d been aroused; he hadn’t guessed how good the Wraith’s firm strokes would feel. Head rolled back, he allowed the Wraith to stroke him to climax, and heedlessly spurted his release all over his stomach and the Wraith’s hand.



When Rodney’s breathing recovered, the Wraith was still there, watching. He wore a strange expression, one that Rodney couldn’t read.



Unafraid, Rodney met the Wraith’s gaze. It was as though all of his emotions had finally blown a fuse, after running on high for so long. He felt as close to calm as he’d felt in months.



The Wraith leaned over, and Rodney could feel his long hair falling around him, brushing his shoulders and the edges of his face, until he was so close that Rodney could feel his breath. Pressing their foreheads together, he closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again he said:



“Sekarr.”



Rodney waited for further explanation, but none came.



“Sekarr?” he replied. At this the Wraith smiled again.



“Yes. My name.”



“Oh,” said Rodney. “That’s… a good name. Simple. I might actually remember that.” And, after a thought occurred to him, “My name’s Meredith. Meredith Rodney McKay.”



“Meredith Rodney McKay.”



“Yeah. But please, please, don’t use that name in front of other people.”



The Wraith, his mate now, spouse, or whatever, chuckled.



“I was just going to say something similar.”





*~*~*