Creating the Illusion

Creating the Illusion

Word Count 1977

Contains spoilers for the episode "The Return Part 1." Based off a prompt from tipsywitch who asked for Egyptian cotton sheets - I got the cotton sheets, but the Egyptian eluded me! Title comes from this quote from Orson Welles: "We're born alone, we live alone, we die alone. Only through our love and friendship can we create the illusion for the moment that we're not alone."

Summary: He'd wanted this for so long, all those nights in Atlantis, but had never dared reach for it.

John drove Rodney back to the hotel after their dinner. Carson had been there, but Elizabeth's absence grated, making their little group feel incomplete. Rodney was loathe to have the evening end so soon, but John had a mission the next morning, and he didn't want to examine the feelings that that inspired too closely. All he knew was that these weekly dinners got harder every time - and going back to Nevada was worse.

He decided that he was just concerned for John's safety and left it at that.

As the headlights cut through the dark parking lot, he was surprised when John actually parked the car instead of pulling up to the front door. "Colonel?"

"Thought I'd invite myself in for a drink - if that's all right with you, that is."

"Um, sure. Of course. There's a bar inside, I think."

But John was already shaking his head. "I thought maybe we could grab some beers from the bar and take them up to your room."

"I guess." Rodney was confused about what was going on, but he desperately missed John - missed spending time with him, missed the bad jokes, and, god help him, he even missed the annoyed head slaps. No one did anything but jump to obey him these days. Without someone to argue with, he was afraid that he was going to lose his edge.

He tried to fill the quiet between them with inane chatter about his lab, and the sycophants he had working for him, but eventually, in the face of John's stubborn silence, he drifted to an end. They bought their beers, and Rodney led the way to the elevator.

John was still quiet, obviously thinking about something, as they walked down the heavily carpeted hall, but the silence had started to gain weight, pushing down on Rodney's shoulders. He nervously opened the door to his room and stepped through, waiving John in as well.

Setting the beer down on the table, he turned to look at John, only to discover that John had moved right into his personal space, and was... well, looming seemed like the only word that would suit. "Colonel? John? What is it?"

Reaching past him, John set the beer down on the table behind him, and then took Rodney's arms in his hands. He didn't even hesitate before he'd pulled Rodney up close to him, and then there were soft lips on his.

It took Rodney a moment to react, but when he finally did, he wrapped his arms around John and kissed back with as much fervor as he could. He should have been shocked, and maybe a little disturbed, but instead, all he could think was thank god.

He'd wanted this for so long, all those nights in Atlantis, but had never dared reach for it. John was straight - or so he'd thought - and his friendship was far too precious to risk it for a quick fuck. But their relationship had changed with the loss of Atlantis, and now John had taken a step that Rodney could only hope wouldn't destroy what had become of it. As always, though, he trusted John in a way that he trusted no one else, and he tried to put that in the kiss.

Far too soon, John brought the kiss to an end. Rodney was left gasping for air, hands clutching at John's t-shirt. "What brought that on?" Grabbing his beer, John took a sip and shrugged his shoulders expressively. Rodney wasn't sure, but he knew from talking to John on the phone and at dinner that John was bored and frustrated with his gate team. Given the kiss, Rodney suspected that he might be lonely as well.

God knew that Rodney was.

But John had never been good at talking, and Rodney hated to talk about emotional crap anyway, so he did the only thing he could. He took the beer out of John's hand, set it back on the table, and turned his attention to John's mouth, kissing him carefully and thoroughly.

Long before Rodney was ready to let the kiss end, John's hands closed over his and squeezed. Rodney took it as a signal that John wanted to stop, so he let go of John's t-shirt and backed up, leaving the next move in John's capable hands. If John wanted more, Rodney was good with that, and if he didn't - well, it might kill him, but he'd let John go.

John took several deep breaths, then raised one hand to cup the side of Rodney's face. "Are you - can we do this?"

Shakily, Rodney nodded. Without waiting for John, he slipped his shirt off, then unbuckled his pants. Before he could drop them, he was surprised again by John sliding to his knees. His breath hitched painfully in his chest, and he found himself fighting the urge to stop John. He didn't belong on his knees, especially not in some anonymous hotel room.

The words were frozen in his throat when John wrapped his arms around Rodney's hips, resting his forehead on the slight rise of Rodney's belly. Rodney found himself stroking his fingers through thick hair, pushing it back off John's face, looking for something that he made him swallow hard, but he couldn't put words to it.

John smiled up at him, then tugged his pants open and down around his thighs. His boxers followed, and Rodney wobbled on his feet, because John's mouth was on his cock, hot and wet and more perfect than anything that Rodney had ever felt.

It was intense, and thankfully brief, because Rodney was teetering on the edge of embarrassing himself by coming far too soon. But the mouth went away, and John rose again to his feet, pulling off his t-shirt as he went.

Rodney wanted to whine and bitch at John for stopping, and in fact had opened his mouth to say something, when John very deliberately turned his back and then bent down to unlace his boots. Rodney's mouth grew dry at the view of John's tight ass, and he couldn't have stopped the step forward if his life depended on it. Wrapping his hands around John's hips, he rocked suggestively against John.

John didn't stop what he was doing, but he turned to look over his shoulder at Rodney and the bastard had the nerve to wink. Rodney waited until John stood up again, then pushed him towards the bed.

Collapsing down onto the white cotton sheets - housekeeping hadn't gotten there after his nap earlier in the day - John flipped over on his back and took his cock in hand, looking up suggestively at Rodney from underneath his lowered eyelids. Rodney did the only thing he could - he sunk to his knees in front of the bed and batted John's hand away from his dick, replacing it with his mouth.

Groaning satisfyingly loudly, John laced his hands through Rodney's hair, pulling and tugging lightly. "Fuck," he said, wonderingly, as Rodney did his best to make John go non-verbal completely.

It had been years since Rodney had given head, but he discovered that it wasn't something that you forgot. The heavy weight on his tongue, the salty-slick taste of John's precome, the way that he could let go and just forget everything as he concentrated on doing the best he could.

His best was apparently gratifyingly good from John's point of view, from the gasps and moans coming from the bed. He wanted to stretch it out, take his time, really enjoy it, but John was begging now, hands clenched tight in Rodney's hair, and Rodney just relaxed and let John fuck his mouth in short, careful strokes.

John started to say, "Christ, I'm com - " and Rodney tightened his mouth down further, swallowing around the head of John's dick, and he came with a shout.

Rodney swallowed again and again, taking all of John's come and nursing him through the aftershocks. Only when he started to go soft did he let John's cock slip out of his mouth, wiping at his lips with the back of his hand and sitting up on his heels to look at John.

He looked like an abandoned rag doll, lying limp and relaxed on the bed. Even as Rodney was watching, though, John's eyes opened and he waived at Rodney. "C'mon, already. Get up here."

Crawling up on the bed, Rodney sucked in a breath as his cock brushed John's hip. He was so hard he ached, and even that brief contact was almost enough to make him come. John looped one arm around his neck and pulled him down into a deep, thorough kiss, then rolled underneath him.

Rodney's mouth went dry as his cock brushed along John's ass. He'd never admit that his voice cracked as he said, "John? What?"

John's voice was muffled as he said, "Don't make me explain myself. Just fuck me, already."

He wanted nothing more than to sink into John's body, feel that heat around him, but "I don't have anything."

"I. Don't. Care." John said, pressing his hips back into Rodney. It took everything he had to resist.

"I do." Rodney let his cock slip between John's trembling thighs, groaning as the head of his cock nudged up against John's balls. "Just... just close your legs, all right?"

John sighed, but did as he was told, clenching his legs together. His skin was sweat-slick, and Rodney groaned again, thrusting gently into that hot, slick space.

It didn't take long for John to be bucking under him, matching him moan for moan, and when Rodney bit down on John's shoulder, he cried out. The sound was all Rodney needed to push him over the edge, and he came. For a few more trembling strokes, he slid on the wet path. John tightened his muscles, pulling one last burst of come out of him, and then he slid to one side, panting, chest heaving as he tried to pull in enough air.

For a few minutes, that was the only sound in the room, then John moved to the edge of the bed, standing up and going to the bathroom. Water ran, then he came back with a wet washcloth, which he tossed down to land on Rodney's belly. "Yes, yes, thank you. Now, come get back in bed."

"Can't. I have a mission tomorrow, remember? Need to head home and get some sleep."

Rodney ignored the way that his gut clenched at that, at the reminder that John was going to be going offworld without him or Ronon or Teyla to watch his back. Instead, he silently watched through slitted eyes as John slowly dressed, pulling back within his skin with every sharply controlled movement.

Finally, John was fully dressed, and Rodney fought the urge to go over and strip him naked again, to look for that connection that had brought them together in the first place. "So, we still on for next week?" he asked, forcing a brightness to his voice that he really didn't feel.

"Yep," John said. "Carson says that he's going to go over and physically drag Elizabeth out, so it should be the four of us."

"Right, right. That would be good," Rodney said, and then fell silent again, watching as John shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. Unable to stand it any more, he stood up, and walked over to John, forcing himself to ignore the fact that he was naked. Wrapping one hand around the back of John's neck, he yanked him off balance and leaned his forehead to John's. "Next week, if you like, I'll bring lube," he said, hoping that it was the right thing.

When John raised his head, he was smiling. "I'd like that."


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