Stay, Part Two. (John/Rodney, NC-17)

[hildejohanne]

Part One

"Lie still, damn it!" Rodney wiped the wet cloth gently across Sheppard's face, trying to clean out as much of the dirt from his wounds as possible. The gash on Sheppard's forehead looked ragged and nasty and was bleeding profusely. Rodney got out a field dressing and pressed it against the wound, stemming the blood flow. As he gently ran his fingers over Sheppard's head, Rodney found a large goose egg towards the back. "Concussion," he mumbled to himself.

 

"Stay!" he hissed as John moved.

 

"M'not a dog…," Sheppard mumbled, his hands waiving feebly at Rodney as he tried to get away.

 

"No, Sheppard, you most certainly are not a dog. Dogs drool. They lick your face and wag their tails when they see you." Rodney paused, his hands stilling. "Although I must say the way you looked when you first flew the puddle jumper comes pretty close. They're also supposed to be obedient to their master. Cats are far superior. Highly intelligent animals, sophisticated…" Rodney knew he was babbling but he just couldn't stop. If he stopped talking, he had to start thinking and some things were too much to face right now.

 

"Hey, you're not my master," John slurred. "I'm my own…uh…'ma  big guy." His face scrunched up and he looked like he was thinking really hard. "I could be a cat," John finally said. "They don't let anyone tell'em what to do."

 

Rodney snorted despite the gravity of their situation. "I have to disappoint you, a cat you are not. Cats like to cuddle in my lap, they purr when I scratch their bellies. Cats are also very, very smart animals, capable of learning all sorts of things. They have nine lives, too, something which comes in handy …" He fell silent.

 

"'m wet," John mumbled, his hand fumbling at his side.

 

Wet? Rodney scooted back. Smears of blood went from his knees to John's side. "Fuck," he swore. His shaking fingers grappled at John's vest, pushing it aside. A crystal was lodged in John's side, blood trickling onto the floor.

 

"It's okay, John. Everything will be okay, but you need to keep still for me. Can you do that? Stay still?" He pressed another field dressing against the wound and hoped it would stem the bleeding for now.

 

He drew a shaky breath and looked at John once more. Sheppard's face was covered by dirt and blood. He looked very pale. Gently touching John's forehead he found his skin to be cold and clammy. He clamped down on the surge of panic rising up  

 

Rodney got up, groaning as his knees protested. He had to try the door again. Snagging his tablet off the floor, he hooked it up to the crystals in the door panel and tried to open the door once more. He'd been damn lucky. When the device exploded, he'd been mostly shielded by the console. He was knocked out, but came to a couple of minutes later, having escaped the accident with only a few cuts and bruises from the flying debris. Sheppard had not been so lucky. Rodney had found John lying in a heap, having been blasted across the room before being slammed into the door itself.

 

He tapped on his earpiece. "Teyla, Ronon? Do you read?" The radio crackled to life and a garbled message came through.

 

"…in…..explos…..tea," Teyla's voice was barely recognizable. The radio went silent again. Rodney tried to raise them again, but it remained quiet. "Fine," he mumbled., going back to kneel next to John again. "Just don't you dare die on me, you idiot. You still owe me a rematch, you cheating, smirking…" John moaned and Rodney fell quiet. "Please don't die…," he whispered, "I'm not ready to do this without you…" Rodney pressed two fingers against John's throat, checking for a pulse.

 

The lights flickered and the room was plunged into darkness. Momentarily disoriented, McKay fumbled around in his vest for the flashlight he knew was there.

 

"Am I dead?"

 

Rodney froze. "No, you moron. You're not dead. Native floozies and energy sucking space vampires haven't killed you off yet. You think I'm gonna let a shitty piece of crystal be the end of you?"

 

"I'm sorry," John  mumbled.

 

"For what?" Rodney asked. "Cheating in chess last week, hmm? You think I didn't notice that little trick move you had your queen do? Women always do as you please, don't they," he said, huffing. "Or maybe you're feeling guilty about the muffins you constantly manage to steal off of my plate?"

 

John moaned quietly and Rodney could hear him shifting, moving around on the floor. "Please, John. You need to keep still." His fingers finally closed around the flashlight and he quickly turned it on, careful not to shine it directly in Sheppard's eyes.

 

 

"Not cheating…" John grabbed his hand. "Won fair and…" he trailed off. "Didn't pay attention today," he continued, slurring his words. Rodney had to lean closer to hear him properly.

 

"Wraith…didn't know," John said, visibly distressed.

 

"The Wraith?" That's what this is all about? Rodney scooted closer, trying to assess John's injuries. He was not making sense. Maybe he'd hit his head harder than he'd thought, maybe he was bleeding out right in front of him and there was nothing he could do about it, maybe he really was dying, oh god, oh god, oh god…He pinched his arm really hard. "Ow," he mumbled. "All the things I do for you."

 

"Could have killed you. Lost everything."

 

"Ah, I see. Yes, I'm sure it would have been a loss for the team had I died. I mean, who's gonna bail you out very time the DHD malfunctions when we try to escape another murderous native who's out to get our hides," Rodney rambled on. "Now, I have to admit I may - occasionally - be the reason why they are chasing us, but that's not important. They shouldn't leave their Ancient tech just lying around. It's not like they can use it, anyway. My untimely demise would have been a great loss to humanity, as well. The work I'm doing on recreating ZPMs will solve Earth's energy crisis for millennia to come. As soon as I succeed, that is. And I haven't even started on the countless time I've saved Atlantis from some blood thirsty enemy or…"

 

"Rodney."

 

"Yes?"

 

"Shut up."

 

"Oh. Okay. Well, okay."

 

"We're friends, right?" John asked, still hanging on to Rodney's hand as if his life depended on it.

 

He suddenly heard Ronon banging on the door from the other side. "McKay? Sheppard?"

 

"Ronon!" Rodney yelled. "In here! The door's jammed, John's badly hurt and we need to get out of here. Get the god damn door open! Now!" He could hear his voice breaking.

 

"Dr.McKay? We are attempting to open the door, please seek shelter." Teyla's calm voice penetrated his growing hysteria. Get John to safety. Yeah, he could do that.

 

He carefully slid John behind the console furthest away from the door. The next few minutes were a blur of sound and activity. The chamber door was blasted open; Ronon stepped through, hauled John onto his shoulder and dragged Rodney along with him. Within minutes they were back at the gate. Rodney was about to dial out when the Stargate suddenly sprang into life. He quickly cloaked the jumper and positioned them at a safe distance.

 

"Shit, shit, shit," Rodney swore. "How's John doing?" he asked Teyla quietly. She was sitting down on the floor in the back of the jumper with John's head cradled in her lap.

 

"He is still unconscious. His pulse is weak, but the bleeding has ceased."

 

They all fell silent as the wormhole activated and the blue event horizon settled down. A few moments later a ship passed through the gate.

 

"Are you recording this?" Ronon asked.

 

"Every minute," Rodney replied quietly, staring intently as the sleek ship glided through the gate. It was shimmering silver and green and was like nothing else he'd ever encountered. The vessel slowed down and came to a full stop. The Stargate closed down behind it.

 

Teyla put a pillow under John's head and tucked a blanket tightly around him. "You think they have detected us?" Teyla whispered as she joined the others up front.

 

"As far as I can tell, we're not being scanned," Rodney said quietly. The ship remained in position for a few minutes. John's labored breathing made it hard to focus on the possible threat the ship posed. Half an hour later the ship broke orbit and disappeared behind the horizon. Rodney quickly dialed out, returning home via another planet, trying to hide their tracks.

 

As soon as they arrived safely at Atlantis, the back of the jumper filled with people. Rodney hovered around, needing to be close when they examined John's wounds. Teyla remained by his side and he was grateful for her silent offer of comfort.

 

"Rodney?" Teyla pulled him into her arms and touched her forehead to his. "You did well today," she said. Unable to reply, he just nodded and slipped away quietly.

 

******                                                                                

 

Rodney had forgotten how quiet the labs could get. Atlantis was usually a cacophony of noise. Instruments whirring and beeping, screaming voices - usually his own- , orders flying around as the newest enemy banged at their gates, trying to huff and puff and bring their door down. 

 

Usually, he was the one shouting orders, or demanding others to be quiet to let the genius work. Rodney McKay, PhD, PhD. Fat lot of good that had done him today. Okay, he had gotten John home alive, barely. Without Ronon and Teyla they would have both died in that god damn lab.

 

Rodney looked around the room again, wondering where everyone'd all gone. He spotted his coffee mug turned over, contents spilled over what might very well be part of his Nobel prize winning research and he couldn't get himself to care. Not tonight.

 

"Dr. McKay?"

 

"What?" The word lacked its usual bite, the tone that suggested the person speaking had an IQ slightly higher than his shoe size. On a good day. Tonight, Rodney's tone only conveyed how weary he felt.

 

"You wanted to be informed when they'd stabilized Colonel Sheppard? Dr. Beckett says you may see him now." Rodney glanced up and looked at the man standing in the doorway. He recognized him as a member of Lorne's team, but couldn't quite remember his name.

 

"Thank you," he mumbled, vaguely noticing the perplexed look on the young Marine's face as he pushed by him. He sprinted to the nearest transporter and stepped into the infirmary a few moments later.

 

Carson waved him over and pointed to a chair by the bed.

 

"You look like you're about to fall over, laddie. Have you had anything to eat since you came back?"

 

"What? No. That doesn’t matter." Rodney walked over to the bed and pulled the chair up as close as he could get.

 

Rodney couldn't take his eyes off of John. This pale, still figure was not his John. This was not the mad man who faced danger with a smirk every day. He looked so frail in that hospital bed. "Will he be okay?" Even to his own ears he sounded lost.

 

"The surgery went well. We were able to remove the crystal embedded in his abdomen. The other injuries are relatively minor. A severe concussion, a few bruised ribs, cuts and scrapes." Dr. Beckett squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "He will be fine, Rodney."

 

"I know," Rodney said, his hand curling around John's arm. He still felt a little cold, didn't he?

 

"I need a blanket," he demanded, turning to Dr. Beckett.

 

Carson snagged a blanket off the neighboring bed and draped it over Rodney's shoulders. "Better? It's probably the shock."

 

"It's not for me," Rodney snapped. "John's cold, why aren't you looking after him properly?"

 

Dr. Beckett raised an eyebrow. "Has someone checked you out yet?"

 

"I'm fine." Rodney waved Beckett away. "I just want to sit here for a little while." A moment later the curtain around John's bed closed and he could finally relax.

 

******

John couldn't quite remember what had happened when he awoke after surgery. The fact that he was in bed with IVs sticking out of him was his first clue that this was not a good day. Rodney's pale face was his second.

 

"John? You awake?" Rodney's face swam into his field of vision, worried blue eyes looking him over.

 

He tried to reply, but his mouth was too dry. A moment later, Rodney held a cup of water to his lips, supporting his head as he let the cool liquid soothe his throat.

 

"Wha' happened?" he asked, as Rodney eased him back down onto his pillow.

 

"Well, Colonel. You have the survival instinct of a lemming and seem unable to keep your hands to yourself. Clearly, it'll one day get you into real trouble, but luckily I - and the team, I guess - were there to save the day."

 

Rodney's tone lacked any real bite and his face was still pale. His hand was resting on John's thigh and he patted it lightly before slumping back into his chair.

 

"Just don't do that again, okay?" John could barely hear him. He wouldn't meet John's eyes, just grabbed his arm and pressed briefly. Before he could reply, a swarm of nurses showed up, alerted by their conversation. When John looked up again, Rodney was gone.

 

People came by, poked and prodded him a bit and went away again. He awoke to find Teyla knitting in the corner, talking quietly to him. After three days he'd had enough and convinced Carson to release him.

 

"It will be some time before you can return to active duty, Colonel. You can get back to desk duty in a week or two, but only for a few hours a day. A concussion should not be taken lightly," the doctor admonished.

 

John sighed, knowing he'd be bored out of his mind.

 

"All set?" John turned towards the voice and found Rodney bouncing a bit on his feet by the door.

 

Dr. Beckett nodded. "Ay, just keep him out of trouble, Rodney. I'll be by to check on you tonight," he said, looking sternly at John.

 

For the next week he was confined to his quarters. Ronon came by most mornings and afternoons, sometimes talking about Sateda but mostly he just sat there, whittling away at what looked like a new knife handle. Teyla came by before she went to spend the week at the Athosian settlement. Rodney was the only constant. It seemed like every time John opened his eyes he was there. By the looks of it, Rodney had practically moved in. Early in the mornings John found him slumped over asleep in the chair, or stretched out on the couch. Other times he was tapping away furiously on his laptop, mumbling to himself until he noticed John was awake.

 

Rodney didn't seem to expect much in terms of conversation. Most days John just stared at the ceiling from his bed and listened to Rodney chatter away about the latest disaster he had prevented, no thanks to his utterly incompetent staff. After a week John didn't think he could take it anymore. Rodney swamped his senses, made it impossible to keep his feelings under control. He finally snapped one evening when Rodney had used his shower and was pacing the room, dressed only in a worn pair of boxer shorts and his "I'm With Genius" t-shirt. Great, now he felt comfortable enough to prance about nearly naked. It took all of what little willpower John had left to not drag him onto his bed and cover him with his body as he finally got to kiss that agile, crooked mouth.

 

"Get out…"

 

"I'm sure the Nobel committee will acknowledge my brilliance as soon as the Stargate Program is declassified. I...uh…what?" Rodney looked at him in confusion.

 

"I can't…just get the fuck out, Rodney." John could hear his voice rising.

 

Rodney gaped at him for a moment, then clamped his mouth shut and walked out. 

 

As the door slid shut behind him, John closed his eyes and tried desperately to ignore the hollow chasm opening up in the pit of his belly. It was for the best. It was the way it had to be.

 

Rodney did not return the next day, or the day after. John was allowed out of his quarters, but still didn't run into Rodney anywhere in the city. He finally asked Teyla when she returned from the mainland, but all she knew was that Rodney was accompanying SGA-2 back to Aymaria to see if they could salvage any information from the blown up lab. John missed him, even if he could barely admit it to himself.

 

"Is it some kind of Earth ritual?" Ronon asked one evening, out of the blue. They were sitting out on the balcony, enjoying cold beers and something that looked like chicken wings but tasted like pork.

 

"It's just a beer, Ronon. We've had beers before." John took another swig, savoring the slightly bitter taste exploding over his taste buds. It was his first since the accident.

 

"I was talking about McKay. He's saved your ass and now you won't accept his help or even talk to him. I don't get it."

 

"It's complicated."

 

"Because you wanna fuck him?"

 

For a moment John nearly choked on an almost-chicken wing. He coughed for a while and tried to buy himself some time by making a little number of swallowing, wiping his hands, and taking a swig of beer.

 

"Not talking about it won't make it go away, Sheppard."

 

"I just can't." John could barely get the words out.

 

"You don't think he likes men?"

 

John huffed out a little laugh. He could not believe they were even having this conversation. It all made him feel giddy, and a little sick to his stomach.

 

"I don't know," he said, shaking his head.

 

"So ask him," Ronon replied.

 

"It's not…you don't know…," John fell silent. "I nearly got him killed," he finally said. "That day, at the lab, I got distracted. My…uh…feelings for McKay nearly got us both killed. What if it happens again? I have to get this under control. Forget about it."

 

"Sounds like a lousy plan." 

 

"Leave it alone, Ronon." John got up. He looked up to the sky, the now familiar constellations that used to be alien.

 

"You want Rodney for more than just fucking, right?" Ronon got up and stood by him. John just nodded. Of course he wanted more than just sex.

 

"Your men respect you, Sheppard, you know that, don't you?"

 

John thought back to those first few days after they arrived. How some of them had doubted him. He wondered if they resented him for awaking the Wraith, if he'd made up for that in the time that had passed.

 

"Who you love won't change that," Ronon said, looking out over the ocean.

 

"It's not that simple," John protested. "There are rules and regulations," he said.

 

"Yeah, you're all about following the rules," Ronon replied, smirking as he twirled the empty bottle in his hand. Ronon put it away, snagged the last beer and sat down on the couch again.

 

John was about to object when the door to his quarters opened and Rodney barged in. He looked a little wild, with his hair sticking up in all directions and a four day beard. His blue robe billowed around him as he stormed out onto the balcony.

 

"You are a fucking idiot," he shouted, walking right up to John, poking a finger into his chest. "I always doubted your intelligence, what with the hair and the smirking and the leaning, all that leaning with the boots and…." He turned around as Ronon snorted, as if he only now noticed his presence. "Oh, Ronon. Hi…I." He trailed off.

 

"Problem, McKay?" John drawled and couldn't resist leaning back against the railing. Rodney just stared and swallowed visibly.

 

"Yes, you asshole, are my problem. That was a really shitty thing you did, Sheppard. And Teyla has told me I need to talk to you about it." He grimaced.

 

John ducked his head and rubbed a hand over his neck. It had been a really shitty thing to do and he knew it.

 

Ronon got up, grabbed the plate of food and shot John a smile as he left. The room fell silent as the door slid shut behind him.  

 

John sat down on his bed and picked up his number 9 iron, polishing it as he tried to let the familiar activity calm him down.

 

"Oh, no you don't," Rodney said, pulled it out of his hands and flung the golf club out of the way. "Just talk to me!"

 

There were days when John wished he were a different man, someone for whom words of love would spill out as easily as barking commands do. There were days when he wished he had the courage to just say what was on his mind. "I always carry an epi pen with me now." Huh…Where did that come from?

 

Rodney looked as puzzled as John felt.

 

"That’s…," Rodney finally said. "That's good, I guess. Thank you. I didn't know you cared that much."

 

"Yeah, well, I do," John mumbled, looking away.

 

Rodney closed the distance between them. "I'm a genius, you know. Smartest man in the galaxy."

 

"Just the one galaxy?"

 

"Well, there's always Carter, but she's, you know, in the Milky Way. Whole other galaxy. If she'd given in to my charms - as I'm pretty sure she was about to do - we'd have made scary smart babies."

 

"You've always had a thing for smart blondes."  John couldn’t help himself.

 

"I told you I'm a genius, right?"

 

"Only ten times a day, McKay. What's your point?"

 

As Rodney opened his mouth to talk, John couldn't take it anymore. He leaned in and kissed him, just a soft press of his lips against Rodney's. It was not the kiss of all kisses. Probably not even up there on his top ten list. Still, Rodney's lips were soft and warm and he seemed to be getting the idea pretty fast. John found himself backed up against the wall, as Rodney leaned in close.

John took Rodney's face in his hands, relishing the feel of stubble against his palms. This time when their lips met, it was heated, wet, and a little wild.

"Bed," Rodney gasped. "Being in bed would be good."                

They stumbled over to John's narrow bed and landed in a heap on top of the covers. John quickly pulled off his t-shirt before shucking his pants. Rodney quickly got with the program and wriggled out of his robe before pulling John down on top of him.

It was all slick heat and pressure. John buried his face in Rodney's neck and lost himself in the sensation. Rodney's hands roamed over his body, touching and stroking everywhere he could reach. He curled his hand around both their cocks, moving his wrist just right, bringing John over the edge. Afterwards, Rodney flipped them over and worked himself against John's abdomen, before he collapsed in a heavy heap on top of John.

"Whoa," John said as their breathing returned to normal. "That was…unexpected. And quick," he chuckled.

"But good, right?" Rodney propped himself up against the headrest and pulled John close.

John fell silent.

"John?"

"You know I can't be open about us, right?"

"Yes, yes, I'm well aware of the archaic regulations your military abides by. It's just my luck to be dating the hottest man in the galaxy and not be able to tell anyone about it." Rodney huffed and tightened his arms around him. "Uh…are we dating?" he asked.

"I have no idea, Rodney. It's not like I have much experience with dating guys in the Pegasus Galaxy. Maybe the rules are different here," John said, smiling when Rodney rolled his eyes at him. They fell quiet.

"I want you to stay, okay," John finally said, looking out at the view from his bed. The ocean stretched on beyond the spires of the city and he felt the familiar tug of Atlantis in his veins.

Rodney kissed the top of his head and held him close. "Me too," he replied. "Me too."

 

Epilogue

 

"There's no need to be so smug about it," Rodney huffed, digging a little harder than necessary into John's sore muscles.

 

"You're only pissed because Zelenka got nearly as many votes as you did," John mumbled, his voice muffled by the pillow.

 

"13 more are not nearly as many!" Rodney spluttered, his hands stilling on John's back.

 

"Hey! A back rub was part of the bet, McKay, get on with it!" John complained, wiggling beneath Rodney. "Besides, I was thinking in percentage, which makes the difference only…"

 

"Yes, yes, Colonel Man of the Year, dazzle me with your math skills. It doesn't make your scrawny ass any sexier."

 

"You liked my ass just fine last night, McKay," John countered, wiggling a bit more insistently. "Besides, you just want me to say I like your ass best."

 

Rodney shifted around a bit, not willing to play John's game just yet. No amount of sex would dampen his foul mood.

 

"I will have you know that my fine specimen of a gluteus maximus was awarded Finest Ass in the contest."

 

John snorted. "As if you've let me forget," he said.

 

"How the hell did Elizabeth's idea of a Lantean winter dance snowball into this, anyway?" John asked, twisting around until he was lying on his back.

 

"Cadman," Rodney replied darkly. "She and a couple of the other women banded together and decided a mere dance wouldn't do. Oh, noooo! A sexist pageant had to be included."

 

"You liked the idea just fine before you realized your ass would be judged, too, Rodney."

 

"I'm sure Cadman's doing this just to piss me off. She's been after me ever since that horrible incident." He shuddered at the thought of it.

 

John twisted around beneath him and pulled Rodney down to lie beside him. "How about we leave Cadman out of this and focus on the more…uh…pressing matters."

 

"Real smooth, Sheppard," Rodney snorted, but curled one hand around John's neck and pulled him in for another kiss.

 

Rodney could stay like this forever, with his arms wrapped around John, rubbing circles along the smooth skin on his back. He nuzzled his face in all that ridiculous hair, inhaling the scent that was pure John. Rodney closed his eyes and felt a calm he hadn't known in years.

 

The End