Complete Our Being

Complete Our Being

Word Count: 2209

Pairing: John/Rodney

Rating: NC-17

Summary: "I - I want to not think for a while. Just for a little while."

Rodney walks out of the infirmary, his shoulders stooped, his head bowed, because he thinks no one is looking.

All of the nurses are busy dealing with Ferguson right now, and Carson has his hand resting on his shoulder in a fatherly way. Ferguson, who's never going to see again, who is going to be sent home on the next Daedalus run. It wasn't Rodney's mistake, except that it was, because he didn't catch the error in Ferguson's calculations before he caused the explosion.

If he knew he was being watched, Rodney would lift his head, not let anyone see the grief and pain on his face, but he thinks everyone is far too distracted by the more important problem of what they can do for Ferguson. But he is being watched by the man in the corner, who frowns at the set of Rodney's shoulders.

As Rodney makes his way back to the lab, because there is no time for him to mourn the loss of an acceptable, if not brilliant, mind, Sheppard falls into step with him.

Rodney's shoulders come up and back, his head comes up, and he makes an almost visible effort to hide the grief. Sheppard isn't buying, though, and he rests a hand on Rodney's shoulder. It might be consolation, it might be comfort or encouragement, but right now Rodney wants none of those things.

What he really wants is to go back to his own room and hide, but there's cleaning up to do and no one else he trusts to fix what's broken.

Except that hand tightens, turning him towards the transporters. "You're going to lie down for a while, Rodney."

He struggles a little, only to have that hand grow even tighter. "Right, Colonel. And broken generators are just going to fix themselves, hm? I need to go back to the lab, not go mope like a five year old."

"Zelenka can handle it." The hand moves from his shoulder to his neck, and Rodney bows his head. "You've done enough today."

Bone deep exhaustion is crashing through him. The day had started far too early when the generator started to overload, and it's well past midnight now. All Rodney wants to do is rest, but he knows the moment he lies down he's going to be washed with nightmares.

But Sheppard's hand is implacable, pushing him towards the transporters, and Rodney doesn't have the energy to fight him anymore. So he goes, almost willingly, only to stop dead when Sheppard stops in front of his door instead of Rodney's.

"No, Colonel. I'm going back to my room." Where I can hide is the unspoken part of that sentence, but it didn't matter, because Sheppard has already opened the door and is pushing him through.

"You're staying here. That way I can be certain that you actually sleep, as opposed to screwing around for a few minutes and then heading back to the lab." Rodney wonders when Sheppard - no, John, it's always John in private - got so good at reading him.

Rodney stops in the middle of the room, breathing hard through his nose, trying to control his temper. "I am not a child, John. I know I can't accomplish anything without sleep, so I'd appreciate it if you just let me go."

John doesn't answer at all, simply reaches up and starts to unzip Rodney's jacket, tugging it off and throwing it into the pile of dirty laundry. It reveals blood stains on his t shirt, and Rodney suddenly can't bear to have them on any longer, ripping the shirt off and nearly nailing John in the nose as he throws it aside.

Stepping back, John lets him finish stripping out of his filthy clothes, then gathers him up in his arms and holds him close, not saying anything but letting his body speak for him.

Rodney turns his head so he can hide his eyes in John's neck, breathing in the scent of clean sweat and gun oil, using it to displace the smell of burned flesh and blood. John lets him stay there as he shakes, and then does him the courtesy of not saying anything about Rodney's breakdown when Rodney finally regains control over himself.

Instead, he leads him to the shower, and strips down so he can join Rodney under the hot water. Taking the washcloth from him, he rubs down Rodney's body with long strokes, wiping away as much of the day as he can, with no more than a quietly murmured, "Turn," or "Close your eyes."

When Rodney's as clean as he's likely to feel, John doesn't stop, instead drying him off and leading him to the bed, where he lies down, feeling curiously detached from everything. John sits on the edge of the bed and looks at him until Rodney feels suspiciously like a bug under a microscope. "What? What?" What he doesn't say is how he really feels, like John should be blaming him for the accident, or at least for not catching the error.

But John just shakes his head and slides into the bed next to him, kissing him softly. It's close-mouthed and chaste, and Rodney closes his eyes, relaxing into it. When John opens his mouth and licks at Rodney's lips, he can't help opening his own in response.

They kiss like that for a long time, tongues sliding together, talking without words, so that when John rolls on top of him, Rodney isn't surprised in the slightest. Instead, he takes comfort in the weight above him, keeping him rooted in the here and now.

Their mouths never stop, one kiss blending into another, and Rodney doesn't even realize he's hard until John touches him gently. "What do you want, Rodney?"

"I - I want to not think for a while. Just for a little while." Rodney can feel John smiling against his neck.

"I can do that." Before Rodney can say anything else, John's mouth is back on him, kissing him deeply as John shifts till he's lying between Rodney's legs. When John pulls back, Rodney can't help reaching for him, only to be stopped by John pinning his hands to the bed. "Don't move, Rodney."

Rodney whimpers, but holds still. John watches him for a moment, then moves down his body, kissing his neck, his collar bones, his chest. When he veers to one side, Rodney tenses. His nipples are so sensitive that John loves to play with them, but it takes so little to tip pleasure into pain.

John's aware, though, and just licks at them gently, blowing a stream of cool air over them until Rodney shudders and twists, even though his hands never move.

Just as Rodney is opening his mouth to beg John to stop, please, John moves further down, biting at Rodney's stomach, stopping to tongue fuck his belly button which makes Rodney try to curl up in laughter. The laughter dries up as John reaches his cock, though, and as his warm mouth slides so slowly down the length of Rodney's cock, he whimpers and shakes.

It's slow and gentle, and John is driving Rodney absolutely out of his mind. Rodney is whimpering and twisting, and without thinking he drops one of his hands to press it to John's face.

When John pulls back, he instantly puts his hand back, whimpering. "I'm sorry. Please don't stop," but John stands up and goes to the drawer where they keep their limited number of toys, coming back with a length of soft, flat rope.

"Wrists, Rodney." John looks at him, implacable, until Rodney sighs and holds out his hands, wrists together. John wraps the rope around them, till they're tightly secured and then binds them to the headboard. Rodney tugs at the ropes, then sighs and relaxes when the rope holds.

John smiles. "Where was I? Oh, yes," and then slithers down the length of Rodney's body to take his cock back in his mouth. Rodney gasps and pulls on the ropes, suddenly desperate to touch John, but the ropes hold, and he's left having to give in to the sensation.

Waves of pleasure are crashing through Rodney, leaving him shaking and tense as he begs for John to take him deeper, suck him harder. John just ignores him, keeping his mouth soft on Rodney's cock, not giving him enough to come, only enough to push him higher and higher. Rodney's focus has narrowed to that soft mouth, and the look on John's face when he lifts his head.

He's lost, floating in pleasure, and John takes him deeper, opens his throat and Rodney can't help the way his hips arch up, fucking John's mouth fast and deep, but it's still not enough, never enough.

Just when he thinks he can't take another minute without going mad, John tightens his mouth, pressing one knuckle into that spot behind his balls. Rodney cries out, as he comes, his orgasm blinding him to everything but the pleasure.

John nurses him through the aftershocks, until his cock is oversensitive and the merest touch is enough to wrack Rodney with pleasure. Then he slides back up, kissing Rodney deeply, sharing his own taste with him.

It's only as John starts to fumble with the ropes that Rodney realizes that John hasn't come yet. "John?"

"It's okay. I'm fine," but Rodney twists a little in his bonds and gets a thigh between John's legs, pressing against the hard length of his cock, feeling it as a searing heat.

"I'm not. Need you, please?" and John makes a broken sort of noise and kisses him hard, hands pressing his shoulders back to the bed and then sliding up his arms to tangle with his hands that are still tied to the bed.

John's dick finds the crease between thigh and leg, rubbing and thrusting, but Rodney wants more, so he spreads his legs wider. John turns to look at him. "Keep me from thinking?"

And John nods, pulling back and reaching for the tube under the pillow. Kneeling between Rodney's legs, his eyes locked on Rodney's face, he slicks up his cock, then rubs a slick finger over Rodney's entrance.

But Rodney is about as relaxed as he ever gets, and right now he wants the little bit of pain that comes with no prep, so he says, "I'm ready, John. Fuck me?"

John's already shaking his head, but he doesn't refuse. Instead, he lifts Rodney's legs over his shoulders and presses his cock to Rodney's entrance.

Rodney gasps as the head pops through the ring of muscles, stretching him suddenly. Then John is sliding in, and Rodney groans. It burns in all the right places, and Rodney treasures the feeling, clenching down tight to get more of it.

Gasping, John pauses. Rodney looks up into his face, and clenches again, trying to get John to move. John's arms shake, but he's not moving, not even a little. Rodney wants to touch John's face, but he's forgotten that his hands are tied. The aborted motion catches John's attention, and that seems to bring him into the moment.

He gives an experimental thrust, and Rodney meets it as best he can, moaning. Soon enough, John has set a slow pace, and Rodney is rocking in place. As John slides in, Rodney relaxes as much as he's able to, and as he slides back out, he clenches, trying to keep John in place.

Each stroke passes over Rodney's prostate, and even though he would have thought that it was too soon for him to get hard again, he is. John smiles as Rodney's cock brushes against his stomach, and wraps one hand around it, jacking him in time to his agonizingly slow thrusts.

Pleasure is filling him, making him rock even harder, trying to get more. John shushes him, not speeding up. "I'll give you what you need, Rodney. Just relax."

Unwillingly, he does so, letting his arms grow limp and heavy in their bonds. John smiles again and bends down to kiss Rodney, slowly, carefully. Rodney moans into the kiss.

Gradually, things are heating between them, and then it hits a flash point, where John is moving faster, deeper, hand still stroking Rodney in time. Both of them are panting, and as John twists his hand and fucks him hard, Rodney lets the pleasure wash through him, leaving him limp and shaking.

As he lays there, dazed, John finally breaks, fucking into him hard and fast, groaning what might be Rodney's name. Finally, he freezes, and Rodney can feel the throbbing that means that John has come deep inside.

When John has recovered, he slides to one side of Rodney and lifts shaking hands to untie him. It takes a few minutes to get the ropes undone, but when they finally are, Rodney rolls on his side, burying his face in John's neck and shaking.

Once again, John does him the courtesy of not saying anything, just holding him. Rodney wants to say thank you, and I love you, and so many other things, but all he can do is let his body language say it for him.

John seems to understand, and that's all that matters.

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