Sleepless

by Merlin7

URL: http://www.area52hkh.net/asm/merlin7/sleepless.php
Summary: John can't sleep. Rodney wants to help

Rodney felt him jerk away, felt John try to slip out of bed without waking him. He reached out and gripped arm pushing off from the bed. "You can't run away from it."

John stiffened. He closed his eyes and wished he could will Rodney back to sleep. "I'm just getting a glass of water."

"Bullshit." Rodney knew better. They had been lovers for two months and John had yet to sleep the night through. All the other nights Rodney had let him slip away. But not tonight. "What are you running from?"

"I'm thirsty for christ's sake!" John snapped. He yanked his arm free then stood up, turning to glare at Rodney. He tried not to notice the concern that glimmered in bright blue eyes. "I'm fine, okay? Back off."

Rodney sat up and shook his head. He wasn't going to let John off the hook. "You're wasting away."

John snorted at that one. It sounded like a line from one of the trashy romance novels an old college girlfriend used to read to him before they had sex. She had considered it foreplay. "Don't analyze me, Rodney." John searched for his tee shirt and swore when he couldn't find it.

"I wouldn't dream of it?" Rodney could be condescending as hell when he wanted to be. And now seemed like a good time . Anything that would shake John up. Anything that would get an honest reaction out of him. "You don't eat or sleep for shit."

"I eat!" John wasn't going to let Rodney lie about things just to make his point.

Rodney rolled his eyes. "You're right..I'm sorry. You eat, whenever anyone is looking. You've lost at least ten pounds since you came to Atlantis."

John had a comeback for that one. "So have you!" He looked under the bed for his tee shirt. Not there.

"I was fat when I got here!" Rodney was surprised at himself for admitting it out loud. But it was John so it didn't matter. John didn't see him the way anyone else did. Not even the way Rodney saw himself. Which was both a good thing and a bad thing. Depending on both of their moods. "You were too skinny to begin with." Time to get back to making his point. "And you don't sleep. That one you can't fudge about."

"Sure I can. I sleep." John knocked over a stack of books as he continued hunting for his shirt. He could get another from the dresser but that would be the logical thing to do and he was feeling anything but right now. "I just don't need eight hours like you do. I've never slept more than four or five hours a night."

Rodney believed him, but he still held the trump card. "You don't even sleep an hour now."

John stopped searching to glare at Rodney. "Bull...shit!" He didn't believe him.

"You made it to fifty-two minutes tonight." Rodney glanced at his watch then back at John. It would never cease to amaze him how the man could look like shit yet still be so fucking beautiful. So beautiful it made his heart ache. Made his cock ache too, but Rodney gave that part of himself a mental slap. Now was not the time.

"I eat...I sleep...I function." John spoke slowly, each word measured and clearly enunciated so that Rodney would understand and drop the subject.

Rodney shifted under the covers, pushing John's tee shirt down farther with his toes. "You do and say all the right things at just the right time, but it's a con. Which you're barely pulling off. You do just enough to keep out of the infirmary and out of Heightmyer's office." He watched John scanning the floor. "Talk to me."

John stiffened. He did not want to do this. Not now, not ever. He thought Rodney understood that without having to be told. Freezing a neutral expression on his face, John faced his lover. "There's nothing to talk about." His voice sounded gritty and thick. Like all the emotions he did not allow himself to feel were clogged up in his throat. He swallowed them back down.

"Don't lie to me!" Rodney was angry now. The one thing he and John had between them - The one thing that defined their relationship was honesty. In all things. Even when it hurt.

"I'm not doing this." John turned to leave, fuck his damn tee shirt, but he had strayed too close to the bed and he found a hand on his arm, yanking him down onto his back, then Rodney was looming over him, knees straddling his hips, fingers wrapped around both wrists. "Let....go." It was a definite order.

Rodney didn't take orders. Not here. Not now. "I'm not going to let you run away from me." He glared at his lover, wanting John to hear him. To listen just this once.

But John didn't want to hear this. He tried to push Rodney off him and anger washed over him when he couldn't. "Get the fuck off me!"

"You're so damn tired and so fucking worn out...and too damn skinny to push me off you!" Rodney's voice was cold and clipped. "Buy a clue, John. You can't keep this up!" It hurt to watch John suffer in silence. Rodney hated John's silences. They were too deep, too dark and too disturbing. John knew how to wallow in silence and it made Rodney nervous. John could say more with his silence than most people could with a fucking dictionary.

"Let..me..up." John would never beg but he came close to it now. Rodney was digging too deep. He was scraping a raw nerve and it scared John. Terrified him.

Rodney tightened his grip and pressed his weight into John, feeling the sculptured line of bone covered by nothing more than a taut layer of muscle. "Why won't you trust me? You know I won't hurt you." And that was what bothered Rodney the most. The fact that John wouldn't trust him with this. Whatever *this* was. Whatever demons haunted him.

John almost laughed at that. "You can't hurt me." It was meant to be sharp but the words were softly whispered. An echo of the truth.

"Liar." Rodney felt sad as he looked into John's eyes. Eyes that were the mirror of John's soul and all Rodney was allowed to see was the image John wanted him to see. The illusion John had so carefully created to hide everything he truly felt. But Rodney didn't want John to hide from him. Not when he couldn't hide anything. So he held John's glare. "I think I'm the only one who can hurt you."

"Is there a point to this?" John was good at diversionary tactics. But it was hard to fool Rodney. The one person he wanted to fool the most. Only he never could.

Shifting slightly, so he could press his naked body full length against John's, Rodney beseeched, "Talk to me."

John closed his eyes. He didn't want to see his reflection in Rodney's gaze. It would be distorted into something grotesque. "There's nothing to talk about."

"That's pretty funny, considering we never talk about anything." And they didn't, not really. They snarked and bitched at each other and fucked like rabid bunnies, but they never really talked. Of course, Rodney didn't do emotional well.

"We talk about the things that matter." John desperately wanted to believe that was true. He hoped Rodney would let him. But Rodney was being an ass about this.

Rodney rubbed his body over John's, loving the friction between them. Skin on skin, smooth and slick and textured and he felt himself harden. "What about trust?" Rodney could not let this go. He wanted John to trust him. It mattered in ways that Rodney didn't want to think about.

John felt Rodney's hardness and he opened his legs letting Rodney snug in closer. This was something he could relate to. This was what mattered in the end. Rodney was smart, he should have understood that actions spoke louder than words. Words weren't real. They were a tool or a weapon. Words were stupid. "I let you fuck me, Rodney. Only you." That was trust on level that sometimes scared him.

"It's not enough." Rodney felt John try to tug his arms free, but he tightened his grip on the sharp wrists. He could be possessive like nobody's business. John was his in all the ways that mattered, only Rodney knew that John didn't get that.

"I won't let anyone fuck with my head." John arched suddenly when Rodney's tongue licked a stripe down the side of his neck. Just under his ear.

Rodney lifted his head to study John. He saw a quicksilver flash of fear in his lover's eyes. A *blink and you miss it* flicker. He smiled softly. "Scary place?"

John smiled back. Maybe Rodney did understand. "You have no idea." And he wanted to keep it that way. "Now...off me, please."

"No." Rodney looked at John and wondered, not for the first time, how someone so perfectly beautiful could be so blind to his own perfection and the affect it had on people. John could charm the birds from the trees, and he used his charm to suit his own purposes when neccessary. But he was truly oblivious to his own beauty and that amazed Rodney on every level. He also wondered how someone who was truly smart could be so truly stupid.

"What do you want from me?" John figured he might as well ask and maybe they could get past this . Maybe Rodney would be content and let sleeping demons lie.

Rodney wasn't sure how to answer that and he was a bit surprised that John had even asked. He bought himself some time by bending his head and pressing a kiss to John's lush lips. And Rodney expected John to kiss him back and so he did. Frantically. Almost desperately. It was always the same. Rodney pulled back and wondered if his mouth looked as red and swollen as John's did. Then he shook his head at himself. It would be too easy to let himself be distracted. But he had a point to make. "You're so damn fragile."

That shocked John to his core because he could hear that Rodney meant it. He could see it too, in the blue eyes that swept over him. "Fuck you, Rodney. I won't break!"

"Yes...you will." And that was the hardest truth Rodney had ever had to say. Because to say it meant admitting it was true and he didn't want to accept it. But how could he not? John was breakable and he was shattering right before Rodney's eyes. And if he wasn't answer man or superman, how the hell could he be Mr. Fix it man? Rodney hated to admit it, but he couldn't fix John. So he got up and started getting dressed.

"What are you doing?" John knew it was a stupid question and he waited for Rodney to snark back at him for it. But Rodney just kept getting dressed. Since he was asking stupid questions, John figured another one was in order. "Going somewhere?"

Rodney nodded then looked for his socks. If John wanted specific answers he had to ask specific questions.

Sliding over to the edge of the bed, John sat up, swinging his legs over the side. "Why are you leaving?"

"You don't trust me so I'm out of here." Rodney was rather proud of John. Now he was catching on. He found his socks and sat down to put them on.

"Bastard!" John reacted without thinking and War and Peace went sailing across the room. It was a stupid book anway.

Rodney finished with his socks and stood up. Tough love was such a damn cliche, but it was all he had in this moment. He said nothing as he grabbed his shoes and headed for the door.

John didn't move. Fuck Rodney. Let him leave. It didn't matter. But the moment the door whooshed open John closed it with a thought. It wasn't something he did often. He didn't like using his gene for such a mundane thing as opening or closing a door. But he felt frozen to the spot. Rodney was leaving. John hadn't thought about that happening. Until now. And now he was shaking. "What do you want from me, Rodney?" It was as close to begging as he could get.

"Hell if I know!" Rodney turned around to face John and it shocked him to see how scared he looked. Terrified even. But Rodney resisted the urge to go to him. He had to be the strong one right now. Sucky position to be in. But he locked eyes with John and declared a ridiculously simple truth. "You're more fucked up than I am." Intensely scary thought, that.

"What do I have to do to make you stay?" John didn't even hesitate to ask. If Rodney left he was fucked up for sure. He wouldn't even be able to fake it any more.

Rodney moved to the bed and he smiled as he stood in front of John. "All you have to do is trust me."

John knew that it couldn't be that easy. Didn't Rodney know how much he trusted him. With everything? For a fucking genius Rodney could be fucking dense. "I trust you." Ridiculously easy to say.

"Don't say it....do it." Rodney started stripping. "Let me make love to you. To you, John. Not just with you."

"You always do?" John was starting to feel confused, but he let Rodney push him down onto the bed. He felt warmed by the solid bulk that covered him. Rodney was strong enough to hold on to and John let himself hold on tight.

Rodney pulled back and shook his head. "You let me fuck you."

John wasn't sure what Rodney was getting at. "That takes trust."

"But you always have to control it." Rodney let one hand fall between them so he could stroke John to hardness. He loved the way John's turgid flesh swelled in his fist. "It's always fast and furious and you always make it about how I feel."

"So?" John didn't get his point and he was pretty sure he didn't want to get it. Rodney overanalyzed everything.

Rodney eased back so he could kiss the tip of John's cock, licking away the drop of precum. He didn't bother with words as he sucked John deep into his mouth and it was a beautiful, perfect, moment when he felt John throb against his tongue. And Rodney swelled and preened a bit when John hissed his name as he came. And he didn't miss a drop, nor did he waste it. Rodney shifted over John and kissed him, sharing the taste and texture. And only then did he whisper, "Let me in."

John felt achingly tired in this moment. He had never come so hard or so fast and it was a rush but it was almost too fast. He felt as if he had missed something important. So John weighed Rodney's words and gave him the only answer that made sense. "I always let you in." And he relaxed his body as Rodney slid a slick finger inside him. This was the easy part.

"No." Rodney slid another finger in and found John's prostate. Habit. He pulled his fingers out and lifted John's legs over his shoulders. Then he looked hard at the beautiful face before pressing inside the taut body. Rodney felt the resistance and it was almost a relief. "Let...me...in," he begged. And he would be content to beg for now. Rodney felt John's hesitation and that was a good thing. The message was getting through. Sinking in. He watched John close his eyes and Rodney pressed forward, slipping into the warm tightness inch by inch until he was sheathed all the way inside and John's eyes were still closed and Rodney stopped moving.

"I can't do this." Gritting out that truth was the hardest thing John ever had to do. Holding his body still and accepting Rodney inside him was the easy part.

Rodney had no idea if this was a good thing or a bad thing. Odds were he was fucking things up and making things worse for John. But when a tear slid down John's stubbled cheek, it was the most natural thing in the world for Rodney to lean in and kiss it away. And only then did he begin to move.

Only then did John let him.

As he slid into a familiar rythmn, Rodney felt John hold on tight. But that was all he did and that was a big thing. Huge. And Rodney was properly awed by it and when he came it was starburst bright and shiny and warm and he didn't want to ever move again as he slumped over John and licked his shoulder. He didn't know what to say so he said nothing. He just laid there, crushing John into the mattress.

"Get up." John didn't mean for it to sound so harsh. He felt Rodney shift a bit but he was still over him and in him and John was starting to panic. But he didn't let it show. He kept the illusion intact.

"You can't run away from this! Rodney was starting to get mad again. One baby step forward and they fell back a mile.

John shoved him. "I have to pee."

Rodney hadn't expected that and he was surprised enough to roll off to the side. He watched John get up and was half tempted to follow him until he heard the toilet flush. Then he heard the shower start up so he slid off the bed to check for wet spots. Yepper. Fucker. So Rodney stripped the bed and put on clean sheets and it pissed him off that he could never make them as smooth as John did. No doubt some assinine military secret on how to make the perfect bed. Rodney didn't care. He heard the shuffle of footsteps and turned to find John watching him, a towel wrapped around him and slung low on the lean hips. "You're coming back to bed." Rodney realized that sounded like an order. Which it was.

"I can't sleep." Great big ole *Duh* there.

"Why can't you sleep?" Rodney pulled John to him and unwrapped the towel. He let his hands stroke over John's damp skin then pulled him over to the bed and pressed him down onto it. He never let go as he slid in beside him. "Bad dreams?"

John let Rodney shift him around so that they were snugged together. It was the way Rodney liked to go to sleep. Usually behind him, still *in* him, but this time Rodney's soft cock was just tucked between John's cheeks. Then the familiar weight of Rodney's arm was draped over him. Then the blankets followed. He felt Rodney waiting and realized that this was the part where he was supposed to *metaphorically* let Rodney in. It was stupid that it was so hard to do because Rodney was already inside him. Somehow, when John wasn't looking, Rodney had snuck inside his heart. God he was tired. John pulled away from Rodney so he could turn and face him. If he was going to do this he wasn't going to be a coward. He would say it to Rodney's face then maybe Rodney would see the truth and let it go. So John locked eyes with Rodney and whispered, "I killed Sumner."

Rodney didn't blink. "You've killed alot of people." And there was nothing insensitive in that. Simple truth. But he watched John flinch.

"I have to live with it." John didn't drop eye contact and he saw it start to register with Rodney. Maybe just a little.

"Oh." Rodney knew he wasn't ready to deal with this. And it wasn't that he didn't want to, he just knew this was beyond his capabilities to fix. He had known it all along. "So the Air Force didn't issue you a manual *How to kill the enemy and not get fucked up by it?*"

John closed his eyes. "Sumner wasn't the enemy."

Rodney realized that was a very good point. Nope...he couldn't fix this. He slid out of bed and retrieved his pants, fumbling in the pocket for a moment. He knew John was watching him. Then he went into the bathroom and got a glass of water. Moving back to the bed he held out his hand. "Take this."

"Why?" John stared at the little white pill. He knew what Rodney was offering but the temptation was too great.

"It's this or I call Beckett down to give you a shot." Rodney shuddered. He hated shots.

John shook his head. "Pass." Rodney had no idea what a bad idea this was.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Rodney kept his hand out. John had to sleep. They both knew it. "Look...Beckett gave this to me this morning. It's this or a shot. You're one step away from being grounded and stuck in the infirmary for a week." And he wasn't kidding.

"It's not that bad." John's protest sounded weak to his own ears. He knew just how bad it was and Beckett was no fool. Neither was Rodney. He looked at Rodney's hand but nothing more. He just looked. "Pills are a bad idea."

"Why?" Rodney saw a flicker of something in John's eyes. Something he needed to figure out.

Scooting back against the pillows, John tented the blankets with his updrawn knees. "Some friends died a few years ago and I couldn't sleep then either. So they gave me pills." Pills that looked just like the one in Rodney's hand.

Rodney was not a genius for nothing. "You got hooked on them."

"Could have." John sighed and rubbed his eyes. They felt gritty and raw and he felt them tear up. So he blinked hard and saw Rodney staring at him. The pill was still in his hand.

"You get this one pill," Rodney stated. "You get some sleep tonight. I hold you and for once you won't hear me snoring, and in the morning we go see Heightmyer."

John shook his head. "Nobody fucks with my head, Rodney. I told you."

Rodney put the pill in John's hand. He knew he could not make this choice for him. But he could prod him a bit. "You've been to shrinks before. Fake her out if you have too. Either you fix what's wrong or you tell Beckett he can ground you now. Then Weir will order you put under Beckett's care. You'll spend a week in the infirmary being sedated and poked with needles. And then..oh yeah..you'll still end up in Heightmyer's office. You're call."

"Fucker." John took the pill and swallowed it dry.

"Gee...how macho of you." Rodney put the water on the bed table then got back into bed. "Can we go to sleep now? I'm ready for my post coital nap."

John curled around Rodney, letting his head rest on the broad chest so that he could hear Rodney's heart beat. So he could be connected to someone who was very much alive. "You're a prick."

Rodney chuckled and let his fingers comb through John's hair, helping it spike up the way they both liked it. The way Rodney had tried to make his hair look like of late. John hadn't mentioned it yet, but Rodney knew he had noticed. "I'm your prick."

"Lucky me."

"You have no idea."

John lifted his head and looked at Rodney, realizing he had to force his eyelids to stay open to do so. Damn pill worked fast. But he had to say this. "Lucky...me," John repeated, and he saw Rodney get the message. Loud and clear.

Rodney pulled John back down and held him tight. "Go to sleep. We'll figure the rest of this out later."

"Maybe." John was a realist, but he let himself have a little bit of hope. This was Rodney and Rodney could fix almost anything. If nothing else he wouldn't stop trying. So John closed his eyes.

Rodney watched him sleep.

THE END