Invulnerable

by Kylie Lee

URL: http://www.area52hkh.net/ask/klee/invulnerable.php
Summary: McKay's invulnerable

"We've got no power at all, no power whatsoever." Aiden Ford slapped the navigation console.

"Kids, we're going down," John Sheppard yelled. "Hold on."

Teyla Emmagan looked at me, and I looked at her. We didn't say anything. The Puddle Jumper pitched wildly in the planet's atmosphere. Isn't it always the way? There you are, minding your own business, doing a high-atmosphere flyby because you picked up some interesting hardware orbiting the planet, plus electronic emissions that meant radio, all of which meant intelligence, and next thing you know, you're crash landing.

"Major, reduce the angle of descent," Aiden ordered. He sounded panicky. That was not good.

"I'm trying," John ground out, hands clenched around the controls. "Got any good suggestions for a landing site?"

"You want water or land?"

"I get to pick?"

"Um. No."

"Major," I called.

"I'm busy, McKay, so shut up," John said.

I shut up. Crashing seemed to take a long time. Teyla and I sat in the back of the Puddle Jumper and hung on.

"Twelve degrees that way if you can," Aiden directed. "That's where I saw lights before we lost power. Good. Good job, sir."

Teyla took my hand. She gave me a smile, and I gave her a little squeeze. We didn't let go. I liked the idea of holding onto someone's hand when I died. It gave facing the Grim Reaper that personal touch.

"Okay, Major, there--lots of lights."

"Oh, thank god. A town. Civilization?"

"Looks like."

"Don't aim for it!" I yelled. If we pissed off the natives by killing a bunch of them when we landed on them, they would never help us.

"Stop with the unsolicited advice!" John said. "I'm not aiming for it. I'm aiming for those trees."

We were all strapped in, but the landing was rough. Not for the first time since this little adventure started, I wished I had the personal shield with me--and that it still worked. I could just stick it on my chest, activate it, and be enveloped in its protective green glow. The Puddle Jumper could crash all it wanted, but it would have to crash pretty damn hard for it to kill me while I was invulnerable.

My stomach dropped to my feet as we lost height rapidly. I shut my eyes when we hit the trees. I could feel the bottom of the Puddle Jumper shear off the tops. I knew John was using them to cut our speed, but it seemed stupid to aim right for a tree, even if we were going so fast that it would have to bend. I listened to Aiden and John shout inexplicable instructions at each other. Teyla's hand clenched mine. I could tell when we hit the ground: a few bounces, a sickening lurch to the side, and we stopped.

"Well, here we are," John said jovially. "It's dark and it's raining. But check out the not being dead part! Anybody hurt?"

"I think I wrenched my neck," I said, testing it. "Oh--ow." I'd also slammed against my harness when we'd come off a tree, and I could tell that my chest was going to have harness-shaped bruises on it.

"Not dead, McKay," John said warningly.

"I'm fine," I said quickly. "Great landing, Major. We didn't even flip over."

"It really was great flying, sir," Aiden said as John turned around in his chair and looked at me and Teyla. I'd forgotten we were still holding hands. John had a thing for Teyla, but it was nothing official, so he couldn't say anything. I gave him a fake grin and rubbed my neck.

"Thanks," he said after a second. "What do you want to do, head on over to the lights or wait for the welcome party?"

"Welcome party all the way," I said. "Maybe they've got cars."

"Good thought," John said as Teyla put her other hand on top, patted it, and let me go. He turned to Aiden. "All right, let's check out the damage, see what we need to do to fix her up."

"Can we help?" Teyla asked as we both unfastened our harnesses.

"Sure."

I struggled to my feet, my neck twinging, chest sore, as John put us to work.

***

"Ready?" Sheppard asked.

"Yep."

Sheppard shoved McKay over the balcony.

The long drop down. He hit, and it didn't even hurt. He barely felt any pressure at all.

"I'm fine!" McKay said, shaking himself.

He was fine because he was invulnerable.

***

McKay felt the curve of Sheppard's back, the way it indented slightly into his spine, the way the round cheeks of his ass swooped, framing the deep crack in between. Sheppard was on top of him, his hard dick drove into McKay's stomach, the only part of him that was not relaxed as they kissed, deep, open-mouthed kisses, tongues licking and playing. Ever since McKay first saw him, he'd wanted to do this to John, or he'd wanted John to do this to him. It was the hair, that ridiculous bed-head hair. One look at it, and McKay wanted him in bed, because he wanted to help him make his hair stick up.

When Sheppard pulled back, his face looked almost sleepy, drugged from pleasure, from kissing, from wanting, from needing, from touching. His eyes half-closed, he looked at McKay, and he smiled slowly.

"Mmm," John said.

But of course, that never happened.

***

"Yo!" someone yelled.

"Yo?" I said.

"What?" John looked up from his work under the navigation console.

"Someone just said 'yo,'" I explained, kicking aside a toolbox.

"Yo," John repeated. "What kind of greeting is that?"

"The kind of greeting instantaneously clear to us as a greeting," I said.

"Our welcoming party." Teyla opened the door and jumped out into the rain before John could issue any orders.

"So I guess Teyla's handling that, then," John said after a second.

"Looks like, sir," Aiden agreed.

"Well, she's the prettiest one of us," I said. "You know, stick out a leg."

John set his hands on his stomach and peered up at me. "What?"

"Claudette Colbert? Hitchhiking? She goes out alone, sticks out a leg, the car stops, and then--" I saw that he wasn't following me. "You know? Never mind." I changed the subject. "No luck here. You? Can we fix it?"

John slid out from under the console, stood up, and brushed himself off. I took in that ridiculous hair and resisted the urge to claim, aloud, that John was prettier than Teyla. He wouldn't take it in the proper spirit. I actually liked his artfully messy hair. I assumed that he'd brought a storehouse of hair gel with him as his personal item, in addition to a television and a bunch of nonhockey sports DVDs. "The Puddle Jumper? No, in that nothing seems to actually be wrong."

Aiden said hopefully, "Maybe they have a Gate."

"Yeah, it's in orbit two planets back," John said.

"Well, you never know."

I fiddled with the emergency override, which, like the rest of the systems, didn't seem to be broken. It just didn't work any more. It seemed like hours, but really only ten minutes passed before Teyla came back. She had two women and a man with her, all of them wearing raincoats.

"Yo," one of the women said cheerfully, pulling her hood down. She looked to be about fifty. "Everyone all right? I'm Laur. My husband Del. My daughter Eldra."

"Yo," Eldra said.

"Apparently we landed on their farm," Teyla explained.

"Sorry about the--the--" John waved his hands. "You know."

"No one was hurt," Del said. "That's the important thing."

Teyla introduced us, and everybody shook hands. "Laur says we can stay at her farm until the Puddle Jumper is repaired, but that if we wanted to go to the city, that would be fine too."

"The farm is good," Aiden said. I knew he didn't want to let the Puddle Jumper out of his sight.

"It's festival, so many people are visiting," Eldra said. "Four more are welcome."

"Festival?" I asked.

"The storms," Laur said, as if it were self-explanatory. "They last about a week. The electromagnetic disturbance shuts down machinery."

"Wait," I put in. "You're saying that once the storms are over, then the Puddle Jumper will work again?"

Laur nodded. "Yes, of course. But we welcome the time of festival that it brings. Oil lamps, sleeping in, very little work, seeing friends."

"Sounds fun," Aiden said.

"You don't happen to have a Stargate, do you?" John asked. "Big stone circle thingie, takes you to different worlds?"

"The Ring?" Del said. "That's two planets over."

John sighed. "Just checking," he said. "That's how we got here."

Eldra brushed her raincoat, sending water to the floor. I had noticed that she kept looking at John. It figured. I wondered why everyone went for John. Aiden, for example, was really handsome, and also more Eldra's age. And then there was me, of course. But no. She couldn't take her eyes off John. Eldra said, "Why don't you come over to the barn? It's about a twenty-minute walk from here in this rain, with all the mud. We have food and dancing and places to sleep. And I'm sure we can find you some dry clothes."

"I should stay with the Puddle Jumper," John said, but he didn't sound convinced.

"It's perfectly safe," Del assured us. "I've flagged it."

Teyla explained, "He placed a marker nearby to indicate to others who may come to inquire that we are fine, and to warn off anyone who might try to take it."

"You guys have it all figured out," John said admiringly. "The lock is mechanical, so we can seal the door. At least it'll keep out curious kids."

"The storm will last two more days," Laur said.

"Well, lead the way," I said. "Except--do we have any raincoats?"

We left about five minutes later, after finding a stash of green camouflage rain ponchos in one of the packs.

***

"Look, Beckett's gene therapy worked. I was able to activate this. It's a personal shield--it acts like a protective skin, and it must have inertial dampening features too, because I didn't feel a thing. Watch this." McKay turned to Peter Grodin and invited: "Hit me."

Without a word, Grodin stepped back and let fly. The shield activated. Grodin gave a yell of pain and cradled his hand.

"Didn't have to swing so hard," McKay said. "And notice he didn't even hesitate?"

Elizabeth Weir said, "I'm still trying to understand how you thought it was a good idea to test this device by having someone throw you off a balcony."

"Oh, believe me, that's not the first thing we tried," McKay said.

Sheppard gave Weir a huge grin and nodded. "I shot him. In the leg," he clarified, apparently to assuage Weir's shock.

McKay grinned. He didn't look at Sheppard. "I'm invulnerable," he said.

***

McKay had a dream.

He wandered through the Atlantis base, wearing the personal shield, the one he'd found last month and hadn't worn since the little incident with the hostile life form that got out of its cage. It glowed green around him, because this was a dream, after all, and the fact that in real life, it only glowed when something hit it didn't apply in a dream. Nobody seemed to be around. The base was utterly deserted. As McKay wandered, he was able to open doors that previously hadn't existed. When he walked into unfamiliar rooms, the lights would come up; he could even hear the faint hiss of the ventilation, clearing out stale air and cycling in new. When he approached panels, magic panels that did magic things, and put his hands on them, they would glow, clearly waiting for input.

In his dream, he found a room with a control chaise longue. He knew it was important because it was the only thing in the room. When he entered, the lights didn't go up until he sat on the chaise. Then they glowed faintly. He leaned back and swung his legs up, and the lights grew brighter. He reached out with his mind and tried to activate the chair, hampered by the fact that he didn't know what it did. Maybe it controlled weapons, like the similar chair in Antarctica, on Earth.

McKay reached out with his mind, the lights came up slightly, and suddenly, bright rings leapt up around him. Rings. He was going to be transported somewhere--somewhere important. Everything would be explained when he got there. He could control the machinery now. That, coupled with his brilliant scientific mind, made him unstoppable. He was on the verge of finding out something wonderful, something crucial, something that would save them from the Wraith, against everything bad. He knew it with absolute certainty.

He held his breath and waited for transport.

The rings cycled the light, bottom to top, seeming to ripple. Then, with an electronic hum, they sank back into the floor.

McKay blinked and looked around. He was still on the chaise longue. He hadn't moved. He hadn't been transported. Something had gone wrong.

He looked down at himself, at the green glow.

Oh yeah. He'd forgotten.

He was invulnerable.

***

Laur and her people really knew how to throw a festive festival. The music was live, of course, because no electrical equipment would work while the storms threw off electromagnetic waves of their own, and the dancing was enthusiastic. I talked with Laur for a while and found out that her planet, which was called Teol, knew of the Wraith but hadn't been troubled for at least a century. Laur theorized that they may have happened to come during a storm, which would have scrambled their ability to scan the surface, and Teol somehow got dropped off the "check regularly and cull the inhabitants mercilessly" to-do list. As a result, they'd been able to reach a level of technological sophistication, one that easily switched between mechanical and electronic, that most other human colonies known to the Wraith could not reach. They took care to remain unknown, despite which they seemed to get offworld travelers regularly, for trade. She didn't say what they did to maintain security, but I made a mental note to talk more with her about it. We could share tips.

I didn't want for dance partners--none of us did. Teyla, wearing a dark green dress that our hosts had found for her, danced with each of us more than once. John and Teyla made a striking couple. They looked transparently happy, like they belonged together, like they could be in love. When John looked at Teyla, with that intimate smile, she was the only woman in the world for him. Judging by the way she smiled back, it looked like his hard work with her was paying off. Good for them, I thought, turning my back on them, and I headed for the food table. I had a fondness for one of the spicy dips.

I loaded up a plate, leaned against the wall, and watched the dancing as I ate. Aiden was trying to teach a young woman how to swing dance, complete with under-leg tosses, and it looked like they were having fun. I'd lost sight of Teyla, but John sauntered up with a full plate of his own.

"Rodney!" he said. He smiled, like he was happy to see me. "Having fun? I saw you out on the dance floor with Teyla. Nice moves."

"Thanks," I said. For some reason, I felt annoyed with him.

"Can I pull up some wall?" he asked. He leaned next to me and picked up some rolled-up leaves from his plate. "Is it safe to eat this stuff?"

"I've tried most of it, and it's fine," I said as he sniffed the leaves and tasted them. "Those're good with that greenish dip stuff."

John tried it. "Mmm." He nodded. "Not bad. Tastes a little like hummus."

"It tastes nothing like hummus," I said. "It's a totally different kind of spicy."

"No, really," John said, picking up another leaf roll. "It's got this kind of tahini aftertaste."

"What, are you an arbiter of Middle Eastern food?" I snapped. "Some kind of garbanzo bean connoisseur? Oh, no, wait, not garbanzo beans. Obviously you're a tahini connoisseur, a master of the sesame paste."

John protested, "What is your problem, McKay? It's good dip! Yum! I'm agreeing with you!"

"You are not," I said. "Hummus? On what planet does this dip taste remotely like hummus?"

"On this one," John retorted. "The texture is like hummus. It's a dip, which hummus is. It's spicy, like I like my hummus. And it has a faintly tahini-esque taste. And it all adds up to...let me think...hummus!"

"God, this is a stupid conversation," I said, pushing off the wall. "Excuse me."

"It's like you're picking a fight," John said. I glared at him. "What? What?"

"You're just...wrong," I said. "Wrong, wrong, wrong. And the fact that you can't even admit it, that you cling to this whole pathetic tahini thing, even when, in reality, there is no tahini, because we are on a planet completely free of sesame, just--just--bugs me."

"I bug you," John said flatly.

"Oh, yeah," I said. "It's just so like you. You get an idea in your head and you run with it." I made a pushing motion with my plate. "You run with it, even when you're wrong."

"You're describing yourself," John said.

"No, I'm describing you," I said. "And this hummus thing is just one example. I could provide thousands more. Alphabetically. You're wrong. Couldn't be wronger. Your wrongness is overwhelming."

"I didn't say this planet had tahini or sesame on it. I happened to comment that this dip reminded me of hummus, with a faint tahini aftertaste."

"Wrong, wrong, wrong," I chanted.

"Fine." John stuck his plate on top of mine. "You know? I need some air."

"Where are you going?" I demanded to his back as he turned to leave.

"Out," John tossed over his shoulder.

"It's pouring down rain," I pointed out, but he was gone. I shrugged and picked up a leaf roll from John's plate. "Wrong," I repeated.

Pissing off John didn't bother me in the least. I was feeling invulnerable.

***

"Ready?" Sheppard asked.

McKay looked at Sheppard, took in the grin, the hair, the enthusiasm, the body, the whole package, and that's when he knew.

"Yep," McKay said.

He could handle it. It was just a crush. It would fade--it would probably fade, because Sheppard was really not at all his type. Sure, he was great at math, and he had the Ancient gene, so he could activate and work useful equipment. But he was military, so even, by some amazing fluke, Sheppard happened to swing toward men, it wouldn't do any good because of the "don't ask, don't tell" policy. Smart was one weakness of McKay's. Incredible physical beauty was another. Sheppard leaned more toward the latter than the former. McKay was better off flirting with that Athosian woman who'd caught his eye. He might actually get somewhere with her. And of course, there was always Samantha Carter, but she was back on Earth.

Sheppard shoved McKay over the balcony.

The floor came up to meet him. He hit, and it didn't even hurt. He barely felt any pressure at all. He looked up at Sheppard, laughing down at him. It really was fun, being shot, being shoved over balconies, by Sheppard. Right now, he could ignore the niggling voice in his head that was telling him how stupid this was, letting himself have these feelings.

"I'm fine!" McKay said, shaking himself.

He'd get over it, the wanting.

He was fine because he was invulnerable.

***

I went the only place I thought John would go: the site of our controlled crash. I figured John would want to be able to get someplace warm, safe, and dry, and the four of us were the only people who could get inside the Puddle Jumper. Teyla had missed John about an hour after he left, and when I confessed that I'd seen him go off into to rain and dark, she had immediately said she would go after him. I did the noble thing and told her I'd go after John so she could stay at the festival, having men line up to dance with her. It wasn't hard to convince her.

So I put my pathetic rain poncho over my borrowed clothes, pulled the hood up, waved goodbye to Aiden and Teyla, who didn't notice me leave, and slogged toward the Puddle Jumper. Without a flashlight, compass, or native guide, it took me about forty-five minutes to find it. The rain gusted nearly horizontally with the wind, and by the time I found the Puddle Jumper, I was soaked and more annoyed than ever. This was all John's fault--the crash, me having to come after him, all of it.

I hesitated when I saw the Puddle Jumper ahead. I'd gotten used to the lack of light, but every time lightning flashed, it would dazzle my eyes, and I'd have to get reacclimated to the dark. I saw John a few meters off. It looked like he was dancing. I stood there and watched him leap into puddles, making extravagant splashes. One time he slipped on the slick, wet grass and came down hard on his butt. He got up gingerly, wiped himself off, and went back to stomping puddles. I couldn't tell if he was playing or if he was angry. After a few minutes of watching, I walked toward him. He spotted me. It was too dark for me to see the expression on his face, but he hesitated, then stood still, waiting for me.

Just as I came up to him, there was a huge roll of thunder. A sharp flash of sheet lightning lit the sky, and the rain gusted. John whooped, a long, loud call.

"Did you see that?" he yelled, grinning.

I blinked the glare from my eyes. "I saw."

"Beautiful!"

I saw only him in my dazzled eyes. "Yes. Beautiful."

It was a beautiful storm. Water ran down his face, flattening his hair, hair that wouldn't stay down, even if this wet. We couldn't have been wetter. I gave up and pulled back the poncho's hood. John lifted his face up and opened his mouth. I looked away, looked up, looked everywhere but at him. If I were invulnerable, then I wouldn't be wet. I'd stand out here with the green glow protecting me, and quite literally, nothing could touch me.

"Why are you out here?" John said.

"Teyla sent me after you. She's worried."

"Oh." John shook his head, sending water droplets everywhere, and I stepped back automatically. "The lightning," John said, pointing. "It doesn't seem to arc to the ground. It's all sheet lightning."

"That's good," I said. "I guess we won't get hit."

"Guess not."

"Are you done being mad?" I said. "Come on back. It's like a big slumber party, but with pretty girls and alcoholic beverages."

"Yeah, I'm done being mad," John said. "How's the party going?"

"Going strong," I said. "Lieutenant Ford's single-handedly started a new dance craze. And he made a new friend."

"Friends are good," John said. "What about you? Any pretty girls caught your eye?"

"Not so much," I said. "You? Or are you sticking with Teyla?"

"Teyla?" John said blankly.

"Yeah," I said. I rephrased my question. "Did you find anybody at the party you like, or are you going to keep working on Teyla?"

"I am not 'working' on Teyla," John said. "Teyla and I are just friends. Plus--I thought *you* had a thing for Teyla, what with your--your hand-holding and all."

It took me a second to remember what he meant. Teyla and I had held hands when we thought we were going to die. "I do not have a thing for Teyla," I said. "Sure, she's incredibly gorgeous, smart, a natural leader, and multilingual. But she's not my type. And *you* like her. Everyone knows it."

"Everyone who? And I just said I didn't like her. Not like that. Maybe once--yeah, maybe once I had my hopes. But that was months ago. Our relationship has evolved. I'm finding the person I like...unavailable."

I found it impossible to feel sorry for him. It served him right, thinking he could have whoever he wanted, only to find out he couldn't. That kind of setback built character. "How interesting," I said. "Who?"

"What?"

"The person you're finding unavailable. Anyone I know?"

"Just someone...incredibly unavailable. Incredibly."

This was interesting. "Married?"

"Um, no."

I knew it was perverse of me to keep asking, when John so clearly didn't want to talk about it. But I was feeling invulnerable, standing out in a storm when I knew I wouldn't get hit by lightning, knowing that I could go back at any time and get warm and dry and a little drunk. "So what's stopping you? It's not like you're shy about that kind of thing."

John pointed. "You know? Going back now."

"Ah-ah-ah. No."

John looked down, where I had grabbed his arm. "Look, it's not funny," he said, because I was laughing at him. He pulled his arm back.

"It kind of is," I said. Then it struck me. It could only be one person. "It's Elizabeth, isn't it?"

"Yes. It's Elizabeth," John said immediately, so I knew it wasn't.

"Not used to rejection, are we?"

"In fact, we are," John said.

"If you're so used to rejection, then why don't you go for it?" I demanded. "You like somebody unavailable. Well, big whoop. Welcome to the club."

"God, you piss me off sometimes," John said with incredible feeling.

"Ah, well, it's mutual."

"You know?" John said, and he took a deep breath. I sensed a rant coming on. I crossed my arms and waited. "You know? Never mind. I'm going back."

"Go on," I invited to his retreating back. The wind gusted rain into my face. "Whatever you were going to say, say it. I can take it."

John turned and squished back. He was literally trembling with anger. His index finger hovered by my chest. He thrust it at me to punctuate his words, without quite touching me. "No. You. Can't."

I didn't get it. John was mad all out of proportion to my crime. "That's where you're wrong," I told him. "Wrong, wrong, and wrong. Couldn't be wronger. As usual."

"Damn it!" John yelled. He grabbed my upper arms, fingers cutting deep, and for a second, I thought I'd pushed him too far. He was going to give me a good shake, and fisticuffs would be next. Instead, he leaned forward, put his mouth on mine, and gave me a hard, fierce kiss. There was nothing remotely romantic about it. I was too shocked to react. He pulled back and stared at me, water dripping into his eyes. "Now do you get it, McKay?" he said. He let go. "Unavailable."

"No, you don't," I said when he turned to go. I whirled him around just as thunder began to roll. Then it was my turn. I grabbed his cold, wet face in my hands and kissed him just like he'd kissed me: no romance, no sweetness, nothing but pissed-off pressure.

I pushed him back when I let him go, and we both staggered. We stared at each other. Then the lightning lit the sky. I saw every blade of grass, every tree branch in sharp relief.

"God damn it, Rodney!" John said. "Don't do this to me!"

"Fuck you, John!" I yelled. "I don't want to want this!"

"And I'm in the military! I can't want this!"

"You and your--your girls! Your flirting!" I screamed.

"And you and your stupid invulnerability! Nothing I say or do touches you!" He mocked my voice, from that day when he'd pushed me off the balcony--the same tone I'd used when I'd told him he was wrong, wrong, wrong. "Invulnerable! Invulnerable!"

"I want to be invulnerable because I can't have you!"

I shocked myself into silence. I must have shocked him too, because John didn't retort. We stood there in a standoff, glaring at each other through the rain. The thunder rolled again, and I wasn't sure who grabbed whom, but I dug my fingers into his hair, just like I'd always wanted, his cold, sopping wet hair, and this time, his mouth opened, and oh, god, he was warm inside, warm like a furnace sending out waves of heat. He put an arm around my neck, and I didn't care when it twinged. I tasted rain when I licked his skin, his stubble rough against my tongue. Then I found his mouth again. His teeth bit my upper lip, not very gently, a precursor to his mouth pushing against mine, exploring it. His body fit right against mine, lithe and strong, and we strained to get closer, pushing, pushing, until I lost my footing and on the slick grass tumbled backward, taking John with me and sending waves of pain through my bruised chest.

"Damn it," John gasped, blowing out water as I shoved him back. I ripped off my pathetic rain poncho and tossed it down. "Rodney--"

I picked him up by the front of the shirt he'd borrowed from Del, partially dragged him on top of the poncho, and straddled him before he could say anything. I kissed him again, and he didn't say a word. He kissed me back. He pulled me against his body. The heat in my groin solidified. I got even harder when I stuck one leg between John's and he started to work himself against me as we kissed. He squirmed under me, trying to get closer, and made little frustrated noises that I felt right through my bruised body. My clothes were plastered against me, but John got my pants undone and put his cold, wet hands on my ass. My dick got even harder, even though it nudged against his soaking-wet clothes. His hands clenched, and I realized he wanted me to scoot up. With that came the realization of why, and I wanted it so much I felt faint.

"I can't get them off," I gasped. "They're too wet."

"We should go inside the Puddle Jumper."

"It's way over there."

John urged me up. "We'll figure it out," he said as I did my best to straddle him. My dick rose up out of the front of my pants. John's rough stubble brushed my balls as I adjusted myself. His hands tugged viciously at my pants, bringing them down the tiniest bit. Then he guided me into his mouth.

Hot. John's mouth was hot. He sucked hard at the glans, and I felt myself throb. Waves of pleasure hit when he circled the cap with his tongue. I grabbed the wet grass and tried not to thrust into his mouth. I barely noticed the cold or the rain anymore, barely noticed the pain in my neck and chest, because his tongue was stroking the underside of my dick now, and it felt beyond good. His fingers clenched, pulling me in closer. He moaned as he sucked me, like he couldn't get enough, like I couldn't get deep enough. John Sheppard was under me, John Sheppard was sucking me off, wanting me so much that he made little delirious noises. He was pleasuring me, but it was getting him hot, too. I shuddered, grabbed the grass, and let his mouth draw me in, that warm, tight cavern, and I could feel it, right there, everything centered on my dick, hot, hard, tight, big, and his fingers sinking into my ass, his mouth, his tongue, and oh, god, right there, right there--

I came hard, pumping into John's mouth, ripping at the mud and grass, and I couldn't tell if it was my coming or the lightning, but I couldn't see. Everything was white and bright and bleached, and I was finally warm inside and out.

When he released me, I balanced on all fours and panted for a second. I slipped a little when I slid myself back down his body. I grabbed his wrists with my muddy hands and leaned down to kiss him. "That was--that was really nice. Really, really nice."

"You seemed to enjoy it," John said. I slid his shirt up and rubbed my face against his chest. "Oh. Do that again."

I did, then added in teeth, tasting his skin underneath the rain water. His skin was barely warm. I could feel his breath catch when I rubbed my cheek against his nipple. We should have been doing this in a nice, big bed, with the lights on so we could look at each other, so we could take it slow, but going this fast was a tremendous relief. John's coarse body hair had gotten plastered down in the wet, but I could imagine what he would look like, dry and nude and open to me. With my tongue against his skin, I could feel every catch of breath, every moan, and between that, the movement of his hips, and his warmth, I realized that he was close. He'd practically come, just by sucking on me.

I pulled back and fumbled with the unfamiliar drawstring of his borrowed pants. I first saw his dick as a heavy rod in his pants, skewed to one side, toward a leg; then, when I released it, it sprang up, large and full. I didn't want the wet to dampen his enthusiasm, so I leaned over quickly and took him into my mouth. His dick was long and hot, and at the tip, I could taste sharp semen. He made noises of need that made me want to know what kind of noise he made when he actually came. I slid my mouth up and down, enjoying the hard slickness of him, stroking the interesting ridges that I hoped would become very, very familiar to me, figuring out where he liked to be touched. I felt his hand tangle in my hair, and he rocked his hips up to me, saying, "Oh, please, don't stop, don't stop." I felt his dick pulse thickly against my tongue, and then he lost it, jetting into my mouth. And I'd been right: he made noise when he came, low, intensely erotic cries, erotic because it felt so good he couldn't speak, he couldn't think, and I had done that to him. When he was done, I put my cheek on his wet stomach and listened to him say, "Oh, god," between pants. When he was ready to move, he turned his hold on my hair into a caress before letting me go.

"Okay, let's get in the Puddle Jumper," I said, tugging his shirt down.

"What about the festival party thing?" John asked, sitting up. "Here." He tried to help me with my clothes

"If we go back, we can't do that again," I explained, my knee slipping a little as I tucked myself back into my pants. We'd done hard and fast. I wanted sweet and slow next.

"The Puddle Jumper it is, then," John said immediately, steadying me. My chest twinged. "Look, Rodney--"

"You don't need to talk," I said hastily. "I mean, we can talk later. When we're dry."

"No, wait," John said, stopping me from getting up by putting his hands on my neck. "About Teyla. Dancing with Teyla."

"It's okay," I said, even though, really, it wasn't, and, in retrospect, I realized I'd picked an incredibly stupid fight with John because of it.

"I've wanted you for two months, maybe more," John said. "I never thought--you know. That I'd get you." He leaned forward and kissed me gently on the lips. I tasted rain. "This--what I'm doing with you--this isn't flirting. This isn't about getting laid. This is the real thing. Is that okay with you? Because I can be kind of...difficult."

"Difficult, but useful," I said. I barely noticed the rain, because the warmth within me radiated outward, creating its own kind of field of invulnerability, one that had John inside. "Can you hang out in my lab and make the equipment work? And maybe I can use you as a calculator."

"But not as difficult as some people," John amended. "Rodney. Seriously."

"Seriously," I repeated. "I'm not very good at talking about my feelings." This time, I kissed him, and I made it deep and thorough. "So is it okay if I show you?"

"Absolutely," John said.

-end-