Mama Deb's Fan Fiction

Hurt III -I Am Still Right Here (American Idol RPS, G)

debra.baker3@verizon.net — Fri, 18 Dec 2009 02:41:12 GMT

Title:Hurt 3 - I Am Still Here
Author:mamadeb
Pairing: Will be Kradam
Fandom: American Idol RPS
Word count:2117
Rating: G
Warning: Rape
Summary: Eber Lambert keeps watch
Notes: Title from "Hurt" by Nine Inch Nails

Hurt I - My Sweetest Friend

Hurt II - I Cannot Repair

I Am Still Right Here

"NO! No! Stop!"

Eber snapped awake with the instincts of parenthood. He moved without thought to the bed next to his and shook Adam gently. "Wake up, yeah. Come on, it's just a dream, that's a boy."

Adam's eyes flew open and he drew in a deep, sobbing breath. Next moment, he was shaking in Eber's arms, his face buried deep. Eber tried to calm him, stroking his back and rocking him - his strong, courageous, adult son - in his arms.

"It's all right. Yes, yes. I'm here, Adam. I'm here." Adam just shook more. "Daddy's here, Adam. Daddy's here." Was it his imagination, or did Adam's breathing get more even? Was he starting to relax even a little? "It will be fine, sweetheart. Daddy's here." Adam grasped at him as if he were a small boy but shook harder.

Eber had no idea what he could do other than what he was doing. Then he felt the bed dip. A pair of masculine arms wrapped around Adam's waist. "Hey, buddy. I'm here." Last time Eber had checked on Kris in his adjoining room, the boy had been fitfully asleep after a long and loud phone call with his wife. Now he was in Adam's bed.

Next thing Eber knew, Adam was out his of his arms and in Kris's, Kris's hand describing slow circles on Adam's back. And the young man who couldn't take a quiet breath before was calming down. Eber shook his head in wonder.

"Adam?"

Adam pulled away from Kris a little and sat up. He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry. It was - I was with Drake and then I was…" He shot a glance at Kris. "And then he turned into Allison, and Allison was screaming and bleeding and saying she hated me and would always and…"

Kris tightened his grip. "Alli loves you, man. She's not going to stop loving you. No one is."

"He's right, Adam. Everyone loves you here, and they're not going to stop."

Eber had been witness to that love all that evening. Both kids had been given a prescription for sleeping pills. Adam had taken his dose obediently enough, after choking down a "supper" of soup and crackers, and Eber got to watch as Adam went from wired to asleep in a half-hour. Then he settled in for a long evening of reading and watching Adam sleep the sleep of the drugged, with maybe Leila spelling him for awhile.

So he was surprised when he answered the tapping on the hotel room door and found Matt and Anoop, carrying various electronic toys and a book. Two minutes later, they were cross-legged on Adam's bed, each with a hip pressed close to Adam, tweeting and emailing away. Eber took the time to get a soda and call Amy, who was anxiously waiting at home.

When he returned, both boys brushed their lips against Adam's hair before leaving. A half hour later, Michael showed up with a book and a notebook, and he went so far as to climb into Adam's bed. He worked on what looked like song lyrics while Eber went to chat with Leila and share a phone call to Neil, who was ready to drop everything and come out. Michael pressed a kiss on Adam's cheek before he left. Adam, of course, never responded.

The oddest one of all was Danny. It was maybe ten pm when Danny showed up, empty-handed. Eber wasn't sure about him - he saw that awkward hug earlier. His memories of Danny during Idol were of a young man who seemed to be incurious, unthinking and nonobservant, if well-meaning. Adam, of course, never said a negative word about him, but Eber was used to reading between the lines where Adam was concerned, and he could tell there was some tension. But Danny seemed as eager to help as the other young men.

His worry over Adam took precedence, but Eber was also concerned about Kris. Both families had adopted the other's son, and Kris had not sounded good after that intense phone call with Katy. So, with some trepidation, Eber left Adam alone with Danny while he checked on Kris. He was already asleep, tangled in bedsheets as if tossing and turning. A touch on his shoulder didn't wake him up, so Eber decided to let him be.

When Eber returned to the other room through the open adjoining doors, Danny was, like the others, on Adam's bed. He was also touching Adam - he was, in fact, stroking Adam's hair to the rhythm of the soft song he was singing.

Eber had forgotten that, for all his faults and lack of knowledge, Danny had a strong and beautiful voice that was suited to the lullaby he'd chosen. He settled back in his chair with his book and listened until a half-hour passed and he first hinted and then told Danny outright it was time to leave.

Danny kissed Adam on the forehead.

Eber knew that Adam kissed all his friends, but these were straight boys whose only connection to Adam's world was Adam himself. He'd been worried about that. He knew Adam could take care of himself, but this was his sweet, sunny, surprisingly trusting boy on the road with other young men who might not accept him.

And Adam won them over somehow, without changing who he was.

A knock on the door woke Eber from his reverie. "It's Leila! Is Adam all right?"

Adam looked up, blinking before dropping his head on Kris's shoulder.

"I'll take care of him." Kris ran a hand through Adam's hair.

Eber frowned, but Leila knocked again. "Okay. If he wants another pill, it's in my duffel bag. There's only one."

Kris nodded. "Come on, buddy. I'll bet you need the bathroom." He half lifted Adam off the bed.

Meanwhile, Eber answered the door. Leila wasn't the only robe-clad person in that hallway - Michael Sarver, Lil Rounds and Megan Joy stood behind her, and he had a glimpse of both Mrs. MacIntyre and Sara Iraheta before they disappeared into their own rooms. Of course - all the parents, attuned to the sound of a child's - anyone's child's - nightmares.

He quietly assured them that Adam was fine, and in Kris's hands. The other three Idols nodded as if they'd expected it, but Leila looked a little startled. Then she pulled them into her room, across the hall from Adam's.

"Is he really okay?" Leila sat down on her bed, clutching her robe. Eber sat next to her and put his arm on her shoulder. Michael rolled the desk chair over, and the two young women sat on the other bed.

Eber shook his head. "He's fine, but he's not okay. Adam had a bad nightmare."

"Adam never has nightmares. Neil woke up us twice a week, but Adam slept like an angel." Leila wiped away tears.

"Adam never had a day like today, either. Poor kid." He shook his head. "I told Kris where to find that last sleeping pill. The first two knocked him out for hours." Eber looked at Michael. "I'm not sure I thanked you guys enough for tonight."

Michael smiled. "No need to thank us, Mr. Lambert. We were just doing what we could do to help. Adam would have done that for any of us. He'd'a done MORE."

"What did they do?" Leila looked at him.

Eber told her about all the guys coming in to give him breaks. "One thing really touched me, though. Why did all of you just get into the bed with him? It's not something I'd have, well…given Adam and given…you know."

All three kids laughed, with Michael the loudest. Lil stopped first. "Mr. Lambert, there's none of us who haven't slept with your son, least during the tour."

"Explain yourself." Leila stared at Lil, who was, after all, a married woman.

"Not like that, Ms. Lambert." Lil grinned again. "I love your boy and he is fine looking, but even if he was interested, I'm sure not. Look, thing about Adam is that if any one needs someone to talk to, for whatever reason…"

"Or no reason, or nothing they can put their finger on…" Megan readjusted the scrunchy holding back her hair.

"Or even something they didn't even know themself…" Michael leaned back almost too far in the desk chair.

"Yeah, any of that - they go to Adam. Or Adam sees something was up and goes to them. He's good. He always listens, he don't judge and he gives advice with sense to it. It always helps."

Eber looked at Leila. They knew Adam complained sometimes about being "a therapist," but didn't know he'd actually helped. "How does explain the bed thing?" Leila looked at the Idols.

Michael shrugged. "When we were in the mansion, or during the tour rehearsal, it was kinda easy. We'd go someplace private and talk. There ain't no time at the arenas, most of the time, and there ain't no place private on the bus. And the girls are in their own bus anyway. That leaves the hotels, which we often got to at 4AM or so, mostly asleep. We'd go to his room or he'd go ours and it was easier to talk in the same bed, and a lot of the time we'd go back asleep. So, we all slept with him."

"Adam's a bit of a cuddler, too." Megan laughed a little.

Michael and Lil both nodded. Michael didn't even blush at it.

Leila shook her head. "I'm Adam's mother, so I think he's wonderful no matter what, and I know what a sweet, kind boy he is, and that you all care about him. It's…

"You should be proud of him, Ms. Lambert, Mr. Lambert." Megan nodded at the other two. "We all have sons. And we've all decided that we'd be lucky and proud if any of them grew to a man like your son."

Leila was crying openly now, and Eber found his own eyes stinging. He was proud of Adam, of course, but a father should be proud of his son, and he never understood those parents of gay children who rejected them. Adam was intelligent and honest and hardworking, and more courageous than HE could ever be. Okay, he spent more money than he should on clothes and he was rather wild and he did drop out of college, and when he did get that temper up, Adam could be scary for the few moments he felt it, but all in all…Eber smiled.

"Thank you. We did our best, but Adam is…"

"Sunshine." Leila smiled through her tears. "Damn those animals for taking that from him."

"He'll get it back, Ms. Lambert. Adam is the strongest person we know. It'll be like it broke through clouds." Michael yawned. "I do apologize. Good night, everyone." He shook Eber's hand firmly. The two women made their good nights and left with him.

"Our son, Eber." Leila shook her head. "I just don't know. I'm so scared. They hurt him so badly. Michael said he was strong, but how does someone like him survive what they did to him?"

"I don't know. But I do know he'll have help. These kids love him." He stood up.

"That won't be enough."

"But it will help. Will you be all right? Because I should get back to the boys."

"Yeah." She shook back her hair. "Give Adam a kiss for me. If he's still awake."

"Come with me. You can give him one yourself. Besides, you need to see him, don't you?" He offered his hand. She took it.

Adam was asleep when they got to the room. So was Kris. Both young men had their arms around each other, and legs tangled under the blankets, their faces close together. Leila, next to him, stifled a gasp. "Did you know about this?" She spoke softly to not wake them.

Eber could only shake his head. "And right now, I don't think I'm able to deal with this at all."

"You think I can?" She bit her lip. "They do look sweet, though."

Kris stirred a little, bringing Adam a little closer. Eber looked at Leila. All he saw on that bed was more heartbreak. And it was clear she saw the same thing.

She shrugged and kissed Eber on the cheek before leaving for her room. Eber got into his bed, noting that there was an half-empty water bottle and an open bubble pack on the table between them. He wished there'd been a sleeping pill for him.

Glittering R Kradam

debra.baker3@verizon.net — Fri, 17 Jul 2009 02:39:19 GMT

Glittering

"Look at him." Katy had her hands on her waist. "He's glittering."

Kris looked. Yeah, something was up. Adam, as much as all of them, had hated Wednesday nights, but, being Adam, he did his best to make everyone else feel better - just being positive about everyone's future. He'd even done that for Sarver and they couldn't stand each other. Adam loved Matt - he'd led the cry for him to be saved two weeks earlier, and, yes, he was hugging him and giving him phone numbers because he knew everyone one in Hollywood, and he was smiling.

But there was something fake about that smile, and something hard, bright and cold in his eyes. He let Matt go to Anoop, who touched Adam's shoulder first. Kris watched as Adam's fingers curled for just a moment before he smiled again, and nodded his head, even gesturing with his hands. The nail polish was already half chipped off.

And then Anoop was replaced by Allison. Who put her hand on his shoulder as if she were trying to reasure him - clearly she'd picked up on his emotions, too. And Adam had to restrain himself from shrugging her hand off. Adam would never reject anyone, and certainly not Allison, their little sister, but he clearly wanted make her go away. And she did - and he clenched his jaw instead of relaxing. Then he squared his shoulders and went back to his seat to play with his food, occasionally looking at his drink - but not drinking it. Which was also odd. He'd only seen Adam this upset a couple of times - when the pictures came to light, and that time with Gokey.

"Seen enough, babe?" Katy put her hand on the back of Kris's neck.

"Oh, yeah. He's brittle as glass, and I'm worried if he breaks here. Adam - you know him. He hates losing control, and he really hates losing it in public. He's darn close, too." Kris could feel his stomach clench at that. It would kill Adam if it happened, and that would kill Kris.

"Think he'll let us help him out?" She moved so she stood in front of him, and looked him in the eyes. "Because nothing's happening unless he says 'yes.'"

"I don't know. I mean. Would he even believe…?" Kris tried to work out even what he'd do.

"If he turns us down, he turns us down. At least you'll be there to pick up the pieces."

"If I can. Honestly, babe, this scares me."

"Me, too, but I have faith in you." She stood up straigher. "We'll take him outside and ask him. I'll start, but baby, you'll have to finish. I'm not going to work at all."

"I can do that." Kris nodded. I can watch a fantasy turn into a nightmare. No problem.

"I know." She kissed him, which made Allison squeal and everyone else laugh. Even Adam worked up a smile before he pushed away his plate and stood up. Without even looking at each other, he and Katy walked up to him.

"Adam? Sweetie, can we talk to you? Outside?" Katy framed it as a question, but her tone and her look implied more. Kris held his breath.

Adam froze. He looked at Katy, who wasn't posing or anything, but everything screamed "Obey me, mister." "Sure, if you want. I'm not great company tonight. In fact, I can tell you that pretty much anyone in that room is better company than I am."

"We noticed. Let's go." Adam obeyed, which made Kris smile to himself.

The May night was surprisingly chillyl, and the parking lot was pretty much empty of people, other than their drivers, who were out of earshot. "Look, you two. I love you both, but I'm not in a good mood right now. I've been in a worse one, but this is pretty bad." He brushed back his bangs as if annoyed even at his hair. Kris leaned against the building while Katy manuevered Adam away from the door.

"That's why we're here. We have something we want to offer you." She looked at Kris, who smiled.

"You're about to fall apart, bro." He kept his smile lazy. "I can help you with that."

"Help me to not fall apart? Can you do that?" Adam clenched and unclenched his hands, now almost naked of nail polish.

Kris shook his head. "Yeah, that's not going to happen. Not the way you are. But I can help you when you fall.. And I'll try to make it good, too." He stroked his belt.

Adam stared at his hand. "You…it's really not a good idea to play around with me right now. I left my sense of humor at the Kodak, okay?"

"We're not playing, sweetie." Katy touched Adam's shoulder. "Look, it's not just an LA thing. Kris and I have been doing this since I was in college. Really." Adam looked at her, and then he looked down, recognizing what she was.

"You…I am not having this conversation. This is totally not real. I am NOT being offered a kink scene by…by Polly Purebred and…and…"

"Shoeshine Boy?" He rolled his eyes, while Katy giggled.

"Well, you are</a> humble and lovable."

"Also Underdog, if you believe the judges." The two of them grinned at each other. Adam looked at them in disbelief for a moment, and then it got scary. Really scary - Adam started laughing and crying at the same time, and it looked like he wanted to stop but he couldn't. The only thing Kris could do was put his arms around him - and Adam was strong. He held Kris tightly enough that Kris could barely breath. But that did seem to help.

"This is not good." Kris managed to turn his face to look at Katy.

"Yeah. I'll get your coats." She motioned to one of the drivers and disappeared inside the restaurant. In a few minutes, Kris got Adam calmed down and seated in the door to the back seat of the limo, and Katy came out with their coats and bags, and Matt.

"I heard Adam wasn't feeling well. And, gotta say, dude, you don't look good." Adam actually looked terrible - his mascara and eyeliner had run, and his make-up was smeared - half of it on Kris's shoulder. "Hell of a night for both of us."

"Mostly for you, though. I can't believe you're actually going this time." Of course Adam was smiling, but it had never looked so fake.

Matt smiled back, after shooting Kris and Katy a look. "Third time's a charm, bro. Look, I have some stuff lined up for after the tour, and I'll be back in a couple of weeks for the finale anyway. Which will totally be you two, and I won't know who to vote for."

"We'll see, Matty." Adam stood up. "Come here." Matt grinned and there was a typical awesome Adam hug, and even a kiss on Matt's cheek. Kris watched Adam sit back down, his mask as tattered as his make-up, as Matt got a hug and kiss from Katy.

Then it was Kris's turn. "Better kiss me, too, bro, or I'll be totally hurt."

"Don't be jealous, Matty." He brushed his lips against Matt's jaw. "Take care of yourself."

"And call those people!" Adam yelled after him, before Matt went back into the restaurant. He buried his face in his hands when Matt was gone.

Katy kissed them both. "Adam, no matter what, we love you, okay?" Adam only nodded. "Kris, take care of him any way he'll let you. ANY way." She walked to her car, blew a kiss and drove away.

"I feel ridiculous. I should be happy - I'm top four - we're top four, and Alli's still with us, and…all I feel is negative,and you know how I avoid negative energy." He rubbed at his tattoo as if to remind it why he'd gotten it in the first place. "Yes. If you can help get me back to normal - normal for me - yes."

"I can't promise." Kris moved the bangs away from his face, feeling possessive and protective. "But I'll do what I can. And…we'll do it. Get in the car already." Adam swung his legs into the car, and Kris got in the other side. The driver took off for the mansion, which wasn't far. They rode in silence, Kris lacing his hand in Adam's. Adam gripped hard, but not hard enough to hurt - always careful of Kris's hands.

They walked through the empty house to their suite and then the door of Kris's room. "Okay. Safeword is…Paula, okay?" Adam grinned. "Say it, please."

"Safeword is Paula." Adam blinked - and then looked down.

"Look at me, please." His bright blue eyes seared into Kris's. "What can't I do?"

"I don't like blood, and I'm not really into pain."

"A little, if I need to?"

Adam nodded. "But I can tell you right now - I'll be shouting every name in the judges panel if it's worse than a papercut."

"I know. You're a wuss. I don't know how you managed the tattoo and the plugs."

"Neither do I." He licked his lips and looked at his hands.

"Okay. When we go in my room, you'll obey everything I say. And if it gets one bit past your limits, safeword."

"I will do as you say, and safeword when my limits are reached." He didn't sound happy. Good.

Kris closed the door behind him, and leaned against it, his arms folded. He looked at Adam - smeared make-up, pinstriped suit and black t-shirt. That had to go. "Take off your clothes. All of them." Adam began rolling his shoulders as he slipped the jacket off. "None of that. I don't want a show. You're sexy enough just being Adam. Just strip down." Kris kept his voice lazy and slow. In what seemed like seconds later, Adam stood before him naked. Kris smiled to himself - he'd seen Adam's quick change act before. The theater had made him more than a singer.

This was the first time he'd ever gotten to really look at Adam - always before it was quick glances as they got ready for bed when they'd shared a room, or a glimpse in the bathroom after Kris had moved. And Kris was 75% straight, with a definite preference for Katy, but Adam was, well. Adam. He was tall and elegant, with freckles everywhere - thicker on his shoulders, arms and calves, and lighter on the rest of his body - or they were covered with an light, even layer of fine red hairs, slightly thicker on his chest and down his stomach, which Adam was trying to cover with his hands, to his cock. Which…Kris knew Adam was big. Adam liked skin-tight pants, and boxer-briefs, after all, even if he never actually walked around naked. But there it was, hanging flaccid between his thighs, and about as big as Kris was hard. Which Kris was.

"Put those hands down, please." Adam bit his lip but obeyed. His stomach was a bit soft, maybe, but the way they've been eating and not exercising other than dance practice, everyone had that problem. He moved his hands to his waist. "No posing, either. No masks, no…kneel, please."

Adam got down on his knees on the bare floor. He shivered a bit, but Kris didn't want to give him anything to hide behind. That included make-up. He ducked into their bathroom and grabbed what he needed. He cleaned off Adam's face, as gently as he could, revealing more freckles and his pale eyelashes. He stepped back. Adam looked more naked than ever. He stepped back.

"Now, you're going to let me speak. You're not going to say anything." Adam nodded. His eyes were wide and there were goosebumps - Kris didn't know if it were cold or nerves. The nerves Adam pretended not to have, in fact. "And I am going to talk about tonight. And last night."

"Did you expect to make it through without being on the bottom at least once? Do you think you're that hot that no one hates you?" Adam shook his head. "No? You sure? Because you're acting like America has insulted you. And take it from me - all that counts is that you survive it." He rolled his eyes at Kris. "Okay, you know that. In your head. But you - you're the … what are they calling you? The dark unicorn prince, right?"

He walked over to Adam and started caressing his head, stroking his rough cheek. "And you bought into it, didn't you? Simon's superstar and Paula's darling. And you could do no wrong, could you? And you were smug last night, too, after that performance." He slapped Adam's face lightly - just enough to sting. Adam reared back. "You were smug - you sang Muse and you were so very different than the rest of us - we were all smooth and boring. And you had no competition - it would have Anoop's night, but you're so good you can do better than him. Right? You're better than all of us, right?" He hit Adam a bit harder. Adam flinched again, but dropped his head. Kris stroked that cheek.

"You're damn good - you were blessed - yes I will use that word - with that voice. And you work hard enough - you make the rest of us look lazy. But are you the best? Are you the one destined to win?" In his heart, Kris thought that Adam would. It would be him and Gokey or him and Allison, and that would be it. "You know better now, and it burns, doesn't it? I have no chance. If Simon … well, he wanted me gone way early. But you - you never doubted."

"NO!" Adam clapped his mouth shut. Kris hit the back of his head.

"No? You doubted? Hah. You stride onto that stage and you own it, and you know you own it. How dare they not vote for you - how dare they vote for me or Allison or even Danny. Oh, don't roll those eyes. The judges love him, and he has to have fans - he's NEVER been bottom three. And you know that - you picked that group, didn't you? When they made you pick, you picked Danny and Allison because you knew Matt and me - we're cannon fodder but Danny isn't. And you aren't."

Adam grabbed Kris's hand and kissed it, staring at him.

"Oh, don't apologize, baby." Kris frowned. Adam looked like he was bursting to say something, but not an apology, and…"You are who you are - you know you're the best. I wouldn't expect you to choose the losers." He gave another light slap. "Like me." Adam shook his head wildly. Kris bent to kiss the cheek he'd reddened. "You doubt the almighty judges?" He tasted salt on his lips. "Hey, no masks, Adam. No lies. You were called a loser, and Simon made a special plea for you because he can't save you next week - they're starting to doubt you, aren't they?"

More head shakes, this time more violent, and the tears were running freely.

Kris frowned. This was getting somewhere, but he didn't know where. He needed to call Katy, but he knew there was no service in his room. Think, Kristopher. You put him into this state, you've exposed a normally private man and he's one step from being humiliated, and you need to know...

He knelt down next to Adam, and wrapped his cold, naked body in his arms. Adam was shaking hard, in a way he never did before a show. "Adam. It's the choosing, isn't it? It's what the producers made you do."

Adam nodded, resting his head on Kris's shoulder. "Why? You seemed okay on stage - you didn't hesitate or anything. Tell me." He sat back on his heels, still keeping his hands on Adam's shoulders.

"They knew what I was going to do. They knew I'd choose the top group. The one who chooses when they do this manuver is always in the top group, so why would I assume anything else? They fucking knew it and they knew that Ryan was going to *pull* me to the others. So now I look like an egomaniac who betrayed his best friend - oh, God, Kris, I'm sorry about that. But Danny was actually good last night - not that you weren't - and Allison was sick as usual, and Matt's been better. It was so humiliating, and so unnecessary and I could have died up there. And then to be physically taken to you two - like I was Scott. I am so SICK of Ryan's fakeouts and tricks - he got you a couple times yourself. And I died for you when he did that. You know he apologized to me before the show? 'We're going to do a choosing thing tonight, and you're choosing. I'm sorry.' I was angry throughout that group song - I couldn't keep it in. No one should be required to do that, and then the extra helping at the end? I was fucking embarrassed and nothing embarrasses me. And I had to smile and be gracious - the only thing that saved it was that YOU were safe. Even if I went home, YOU were safe and you'd win it all." Adam poured these words out between wrenching sobs, barely stopping for breath. He was hoarse before they were over - and Adam took such care of his throat.

"You know that next week, everyone's going to vote for you, right?" He held Adam close and stroked his back. "You know that you're going to rock the Kodak, right? You and Alli are going to tear it up and everyone will vote for you because you'll be great." Adam just cried harder. "Doesn't matter. You're awesome. Everyone loves you." He grabbed Adam's chin and pulled his face so he could looking into Adam's eyes. "And if some people think otherwise - they probably wouldn't have voted for you anyway. Which means they're deaf. Everyone else loves you. Adam. I love you. I love you like I love Katy. Which makes no sense since I met Katy in high school and I've known you months, but it's true." And he kissed Adam's mouth. In a very few moments, Adam responded slowly, hesitantly and then fully, following Kris's lead.

Together, they pulled off Kris's clothing and climbed on the bed. Adam was even more impressive hard, but Kris had enough confidence in his own abilities that didn't matter. He laid Adam down on the bed and climbed on top, fixing their mouths together as he brought their bodies into alignment, while pinning Adam's arms to the mattress. Adam sobbed his orgasm into Kris's mouth, and Kris followed him, kissing as he came down from the heights.

Adam held on, still sobbing, for a few minutes and then grew quiet. Kris let go long enough to grab a t-shirt to clean them off, and then gathered his long body in his arms again. "Better?"

"Yeah. I believe the worst is over. And the best." He kissed Kris on his lips, lightly. "I love you, too. I needed this."

"Good. Because I'm tired of sleeping alone." And, resting his head on Adam's broad chest, he fell asleep.

New Story: Princes are But the Breath of Kings (Arthur/Merlin, PG)

debra.baker3@verizon.net — Tue, 03 Mar 2009 01:45:44 GMT

Written for the merlin_flashfic emo challenge. Character death.

"I can't do this. I'm not ready. I don't know what I'm doing."

"Yes, you can. I have faith in you." Merlin held Arthur tightly in the light of the bedroom fire.

* * * *

"He's gone, sire." Gaius' voice shook from grief and exhaustion.

"NO! He can't be! You - he trusts you with his life, Gaius! You're his physician! There must be something you can do - or Merlin!" Arthur, white and gaunt from three days without sleep and little food, turned to him. "I know you…I know you can do this. I know you have those gifts - use them! I order you! Save my father's life!"

Merlin could only shake his head, his heart hurting at the naked pain on Arthur's face. "If I could have - Gaius and I used everything we had, consulted everything we could." He gone to the dragon, who told him there was nothing at all to be done, that it was Uther's time. Merlin still spent hours muttering spells. "Please - " he reached to touch Arthur's shoulder. Arthur flinched then relaxed. "Believe me. Gaius is half-dead himself - you're barely holding on."

"No! It can't be! He's the KING! The king can't die - Camelot needs him. Our people need him. I need him. He can't be dead! He can't!" Arthur backed away from the bed where his father had lain unmoving for all that time and stumbled. Merlin caught him before he hit the floor. Arthur kept grasping Merlin's arm even after he'd been guided to a seat. "He can't be. He can't…" He trailed off, his burst of energy fading, but his hold was still firm.

Morgana, who had been weeping on the other side of the bed, looked up. "Gaius, I know you did your best, and Arthur will, too, when he has some rest." She hadn't reacted at all to Arthur's revelation about Merlin's gifts - what had she known?

"We all need rest, Morgana." Gaius looked at the body. "I don't know if my heart will let me sleep, but we have much to do in the morning." Gaius tried to stand, but his knees couldn't hold him, and Merlin was still trapped by Arthur's hands.

"I'll get some help." She went to the door and shouted for servants. In a few minutes, a strong groom was getting Gaius to his feet.

"Merlin, take Arthur to his chambers. And stay with him. I'll send Robin here with clothes for you."

"Yes, Gaius."

Merlin needed the help of another groom to get Arthur out of his seat, and then he protested. "I won't leave my father alone."

"He won't be, your…your majesty. I'll be here to keep watch and to help prepare him. Gwen and I will make sure he's not alone. Merlin, do as Gaius says and take the…the king to his rooms." Morgana gestured towards the two of them.

Arthur flinched at the title that was now his. "You will not leave him this night?"

"I promise."

Arthur nodded, and, leaning only on Merlin, allowed himself to be removed from the deathchamber. On the way to his rooms, they passed two elderly women with warm water and cloths. They had tears on their faces. Arthur gathered what had to be a last reserve of strength and acknowledged their grief with a nod and a touch, then walked the rest of the way alone. Merlin barely got him on to his bed in time.

The room was cold and dark. Merlin, no longer needing to keep hidden, used magic to light candles and start the fire. There was water available, so Merlin heated that, too and brought it over to Arthur, who was staring at nothing. By the time the servant arrived with clothes, plus some food, he had the new king tucked up in bed, clean and in his nightshirt.

He thought about offering some bread and cheese, but decided that the hot cider was the most he could offer - and blessed the cook for not sending wine. Arthur was fragile enough. Arthur took a few swallows and pushed the mug away. Merlin covered the food carefully so it would stay sweet for the morning, and got into his own nightshirt after a cursory wash. He was about to get blankets out to make a pallet on the floor when he caught Arthur's eyes by the light of the fire.

He had never seen Arthur looking so lost, so vulnerable. So alone. A pallet by the fire would be too far away.

He got into the bed, where Arthur let Merlin gather him into his arms.

"It's all right. I'm here tonight. I'm here as long as you need me. I'll always be here for you." And on those words, the most horrible thing happened.

Arthur - strong, self-assured, brave Arthur, Arthur who was born to be a king, was always a king under his mantle of pratdom, Arthur who never let anyone even know he was injured - Arthur buried his face on Merlin's shoulder and began to cry, terrible sobs just pulled from his body as if he had no control over them.

Merlin held him close, stroking his back and hair, murmuring nonsense phrases until he quieted. "All right, sire?"

"I can't do this. I'm not ready. I don't know what I'm doing." His voice was hoarse, but under control.

"Yes, you can. I have faith in you." Merlin held Arthur tightly in the light of the bedroom fire.

"You'll stay with me? You'll help me, Merlin?"

"I will stay by your side forever, Arthur. You won't be able to get rid of me." And then - he never knew what made him do this, but there was Arthur's face looking up at him, and it was so close and so easy, and when he touched Arthur's lips with his own, Arthur sighed and kissed him back.

They fell asleep tangled together.

New Story: In the Kitchen

debra.baker3@verizon.net — Tue, 04 Nov 2008 21:48:37 GMT

Original fiction, from the prompts 1789, London, regret, sheep, loyalty by llennhoff.

In the Kitchen

"Mistress says that we're waiting no more for dinner, Mrs. Bates. Master can fend for himself, she says, and there's no point in letting good food be ruint for him." Stevens stood carefully - he'd gotten soot on his livery before now, and felt both Mistress's and the housekeeper's tongues on him before spending a night brushing it by hand - after doing his other duties. Molly was not pleased at that, no. It was hard, though, in the damp of February, to stay away from the heat of the hearth.

"As if any food I serve will ever be ruint, no matter how long the wait." Mrs. Bates filled the platters and bowls that Molly held out for her, waving her hand over them so the dishes would stay just right for the eating. "But do you know why Master is so late? It's almost four in the afternoon. 'Tis not healthy to eat so far in the day."

Stevens carefully balanced the food on his tray, tapping each one so it wouldn't spill off. "It's the doings in the Lords, of course. My lord is keeping Master while they have that vote on the king, poor soul - getting his son as regent and all."

Molly wiped her hands on her apron. "It's hard, it is. I wouldn't want to make that choice if I were of the lords."

"Off with you, lad. Mistress'll want you now." Mrs. Bates shooed Stevens off. "As for you, you'd best be taking care of them pots. Lords isn't the place for you or me or any of our kind. Leave it to them who has no other power."

Molly gave a sniff before taking the pots and spoons to the sink and causing the water in the kettle to heat as hot as her hand could take. At home, she'd have just done them all, but things had to look right here.

Stevens and the others came in when dinner was over. "Master showed up halfway, but he hardly ate nothing - young Master's wife ate more'n him."

"Young Master's wife needs to eat more in her condition and all." Mrs. Bates made sure the dishes would stay sound until breakfast, leaving out the platter of raguot from last night's joint for the servants to finish. "I'll give you something to slip into her tea at supper, shall I? Might ease the way a bit."

Stevens nodded. "It's not my place and all, but I like her - she'll do for the next lot. Master was that angry, though. He came in and even before I could help him to something, he started talking. My lord isn't happy - the lords are putting the Prince as regent. He said my lord called them 'sheep' and they'd regret this. That we shouldn't fool with royalty and the Prince of Wales'd be the ruination."

Molly put her spoon of ragout down. "If the king, bless his soul, had died, Prince'd be king now - true?"

"Yes." Stevens filled a bowl and settled next to Molly, careful of his livery. "Master said that to young Master's wife - Mistress Ann is sharp even when she fells unwell. But then it would have been as the Lord - the Lord, not my lord - commands. It's unnatural for a son to rule the father while the father yet lives. Young master laughed at that one and promised never to do so."

"Even if the king has no wits to rule?" Mrs. Bates poured them out mugs of ale for the scullery maids, and took one herself. "This is a pretty problem, then."

"That it is. And it's got Master and my lord all upset, those good men." He put down his bowl. "Mrs. Bates, is there ought we can do? I know we do not act outside ourselves, but it is the land we live in, too. They know so little of medicine and how the body is - they might kill the king or leave him to live in madness all his days, and no proper king for them."

Mrs. Bates closed her eyes in thought. "I must consult on this. The others must know. Let me be." She took three deep breaths and her body became still and empty. The others continued their meal and their work - the family would want a supper soon enough. It was an hour or more before she moved again. Only Molly and Stevens remained.

"Is there an answer, Mrs. Bates?" Molly stood next to Stevens, as close as maybe.

"The king's illness is in his blood and cannot be cleansed forever, but we can help for a time - a time that may be years. So, we shall, in the hopes that his life will end before the madness returns. One of us is hidden among his servants now, and the deed shall be done. Now, how is Master's supper coming along?"

Unbreakable (Harry Potter, PG, Neville/Harry) - for roadnotes

debra.baker3@verizon.net — Wed, 11 Jun 2008 20:57:50 GMT

hand, heat, tea Harry Potter, Neville/Anyone

Unbreakable

Neville balanced the tray carefully on his wand. He managed to make it back in bed before Harry woke up, and even better, managed not to spill the tea or the toast.

"Tea?" Harry opened his eyes. They glowed in the afternoon light. "Did I fall asleep again?" He sat up and leaned against the headboard.

"You always do." Neville handed him a cup, the heat filling his hand. "I think I bore you." He smiled.

"Oh, yes. Of course, you do." He kissed Neville softly. "That's why I...well." He sighed and took a sip. "Why I wish I could stay with you."

"You wouldn't leave her."

"I *can't* leave her. Wizarding weddings last forever. Because you can make that decision at the age of twenty when you don't even know who you are or what you want." His voice was as bitter as the stewed tea in Neville's cup - he'd never got that right. "And then I fell in love with you, and she fell for the brother of the other Chaser and we're both stuck. She's pregnant again, you know. We're hoping for a girl."

Neville bit his lip. "Must you?"

"No. No, I don't. Never again." The tray spilled after all, but a spell took care of the mess, and Neville could lose himself in fantasy of Harry's arms.

Take Me Dancing (Torchwood, Jack/Ianto G)

debra.baker3@verizon.net — Wed, 28 May 2008 20:51:22 GMT

for gnomi. She requested dancing, life and fidelity for Jack/Ianto. Spoilers for "Meat".

Take Me Dancing

Ianto watched Jack on the dance floor, his eyes manic as he moved to the music.

"Take me dancing, Ianto," he'd asked. "Please. Take me some place with life." Ianto, who would never forget the whale's last moments, understood. He knew this place, had taken Lisa to this place once upon a time, and he didn't know many others. But he knew he could dance with Jack here, and no one would blink or care.

The music was good - mostly fast and hard, with some slow to mix it up, and Jack knew how to dance. He felt good in Ianto's arms, letting him lead during the slow songs and tossing his head around like he was drunk on the music to the fast ones. Eventually, he wore Ianto out. His suit soaked with sweat, Ianto claimed a table and a bottle of beer and just watched.

Jack moved from partner to partner, dancing almost frantically, but gracefully - Ianto could not take his eyes off of him. He wore out men and women, magazine pretty girls and ordinary blokes alike, his brilliant smile reeling them in before they staggered back to the bar or table. He even danced a time or two with guys who came in with ladies. He let no one else lead, though. That was only for Ianto. Ianto smiled around his beer. No one could resist his Jack.

And Jack was his, in a way that didn't mean fidelity or a lifetime - who could talk about lifetimes for them? Eventually, he'd take Jack home (or Jack would take him, since Jack was only drinking water, while Ianto was on his third beer) and they'd find another way to reaffirm life in a universe where an innocent creature could suffer like that. Meanwhile, he put his beer down and claimed Jack from the blond woman on the dance floor.

Chores (Bujold "The Sharing Knife", Fawn/Dag G)

debra.baker3@verizon.net — Wed, 28 May 2008 19:38:47 GMT

for cbpotts who gave me the prompts balance, boat and star.

Chores
"What are you doing out here?" Fawn stood over him, dusting the flour off her arms with her apron. "The men are all in the barn doing something and I'd think you'd be with them."

Dag shrugged awkwardly. "I wouldn't be much good at farm work no matter what, and right now I don't even have one hand to work with." He gestured towards his broken arm with his hook. "Don't have much in the way of balance, either."

She sat on the ground next to the tree he was leaning on. "I figured as much, but it's pretty lonely out here. Nothing much to do. I'd go resty-testy if I didn't have something to do. Might be a farmer thing."

He smiled. "I don't think so. Might be a maker thing, though. My ma's a maker, and she can't sit still without making her rope, and your aunt is a maker her own self, even if she's not a Lakewalker, You might have gotten it from her."

"I guess, though most womenfolk I know are like that. Comes of work never being done."

"Farmers." Dag looked at her - her ground sparking like a star, all bright and happy. "You won't need to do that when we're home. Least, not as much." Maybe. Maybe not.

"There'll be meals to get, and clothes to make and mend and wash. Can't just sit all day in a boat and watch the sky. But doing them for you and not my brothers - that'll be relief enough." She smiled at him, before wrapping her arms around his shoulders and kissing him. "I'm going to make a home for you, Dag. You see if I don't, no matter where we are."

"You already have." He kissed her back.

Possessed (Torchwood, Jack/Ianto. G)

debra.baker3@verizon.net — Wed, 28 May 2008 19:11:35 GMT

For maya_a, who didn't specify a pairing but suggested swagger, ebullient and leopard.

Possessed

"Today...today. Today is a wonderful, beautiful day!" Jack swaggered down the stairs into the Hub, neatly dodging Myfanwy as she flew in search of...well, it didn't matter what. Because it was a beautiful, wonderful day and he felt like flying, too.

"We are very...ebullient today, Captain." Ianto handed him a cup of coffee - the magical coffee that Ianto and only Ianto could make so well.

"Especially since we are in Wales and the weather proves it. I swear the rain came through my umbrella." Owen scowled at his monitor, which, so far as Jack could see, was him losing at some video game. "At least, my hair was that soaked. Give us some coffee, too, will you?"

"Oh, stuff it, Owen." Gwen tossed Owen a look that Jack had no problem defining, given that sweet Gwen was as open a book as ever was. "If Jack's happy for a change, I say we all enjoy it."

"Right. Because it's never a problem when someone comes bouncing in with a grin that'd light up Cardiff...are we sure that's the Captain?"

"It's me. It's definitely me."

"Then you won't mind if I take some blood, would you? Just to make sure nothing strange came through the rift last night - any rift activity, Tosh?"

Tosh frowned and tapped on her keyboard. "Actually, there was *something* last night. Didn't last long, though - doubt much of anything came through."

"Still, wouldn't hurt to find out. Come on, Jack."

Jack's mood was too good for even that to hurt. "Just be careful. Don't want a bruise where it might show." He let Owen poke and prod and drain him of blood and stick swabs into his mouth. Jack knew who he was and just why he was in such a good mood - and they didn't need to know it at all. Well, except for one of them.

After Owen admitted that Jack was, indeed Jack, Jack got a fresh cup of coffee from Ianto. "You found it, then?" he whispered, his breath brushing Jack's ear.

"I'm wearing them now. How did you ever know I liked leopard print?"

Ianto smiled. "Grrr."

Beach Volleyball (Sports Night, Dan/Casey G)

debra.baker3@verizon.net — Wed, 28 May 2008 18:48:53 GMT

For lomedet, who wanted Sports Night with the prompts sand, apple and jigsaw.

"Beach volleyball." Casey leaned back in his chair and smiled.

Dan nearly choked on his coffee. "Beach volleyball?"

"Beach volleyball."

"What about beach volleyball?"

"Natalie says that CSN is covering the beach volleyball championships. In California."

"Beach volleyball is, according to most definitions, a sport. It's more of a sport than poker, and CSN covers poker. Which I'm sure you remember because Jeremy spent the entire time we covered it talking about it. If CSN covers poker, it can fit beach volleyball with all the pretty...girls into the jigsaw puzzle of programming." He drank the coffee, which was cool and bitter.

"Dan. Dan. Danny. My very good friend and co-anchor. Dan. If CSN covers beach volleyball in California, *we* can go to California to cover it. We can report live from the beach in California, where it is warm and not trying to decide if it should rain or snow, but it should definitely be cold and not warm." Casey sat up, his eyes dancing.

"From the beach in California? With the sun and the ocean and the sand? Which will go places sand should not go? That California? Those beaches?"

"Beach volleyball, Danny. Where the official uniform is a bikini - girls in bikinis jumping and spiking, all tan and athletic. You want to do this."

"Even if I wanted to watch girls bounce around on a beach..."

"That should be a given."

Dan rolled his eyes. "Even if I did, no way would they pay us to bring the ENTIRE production to California and let us anchor in swimsuits." He paused. "Which I don't even own anymore. And you, Mr. Minnesota, would burn into a highly unattractive apple-red that will clash with pretty much everything. And you'd expect me to rub Noxema on it."

Casey smiled at him. "This would be bad how?" He moved closer to Dan. "And the guys all wear Speedos. Which makes them as much fun as the girls."

"Speedos?"

"Speedos."

"But not on us?"

"Not on us because that would be bad."

"Would you wear one for me?"

"Only if it doesn't clash with sunburn." Casey smiled and, glancing first through the transparent walls of their office, gave Dan a quick kiss.

"Deal."

Torchwood No One Else - for spiderine

debra.baker3@verizon.net — Wed, 09 Apr 2008 17:34:51 GMT

Torchwood. Jack/Ianto NC-17

Spoilers for Series One. A first time.

No One Else

"You don't need to walk me in, Sir." Ianto stood next to the door to his apartment block, craving that very thing but this was beyond his experience. Jack was always beyond his experience.

"Ah, but it's the polite thing to do, isn't it? Besides, I'd love to see your flat." He put his hand on the small of Ianto's back. It was warm and sure. "And I could really do with a cup of your coffee." Jack hadn't drunk anything but water at dinner that night, and he claimed to never sleep - althoughIanto knew better.

"Yes, of course. Coffee not being available anywhere else in Cardiff." He put his arm around Jack's waist, which gave him a dazzling smile.

Ianto wouldn't do just anything for those smiles, but it was close. The problem was, Jack knew it. Or, perhaps it wasn't a problem.

He had no worries about the condition of his flat - his mother made sure he knew how to keep house and he was hardly in it long enough for it to get untidy. And Jack seemed charmed by his collection of storybooks from childhood, leafing through the yellowing pages with delight and criticism. Apparently, some of the monsters were actually aliens.

"I do know that, Sir. After all, we have been fighting them for a fair bit now." He handed Jack a cup of coffee.

Jack put down the book and took the cup and saucer, brushing Ianto's cheek with his free hand. "Yes, you have. And worse than that. But it's not those demons that keep you up at night, are they?" He looked directly intoIanto's eyes. There was something in them, something he couldn't place.

"No. Not that I'm up..." Jack smiled at him. And Ianto's mind became a mix of Lisa as she was and as she became, and the taste of Jack's lips and the feel of cold water, and all that fear and pain and anger he'd been living with since. And he wanted to know something. He took the cup away, placing it safely on a table, and brought a hand to the side of Jack's head. Jack didn't smile. If anything, he looked as nervous as Ianto - no, that was impossible. Jack was Jack - he'd done this a million times before. He'd kissed blokes a million times before. This was normal for Jack.

Except all he did was wait, his eyes open. And Ianto knew that if he took his hand away, if he stepped back, Jack would pick up his coffee and they'd talk about fairy tales and then Jack would go back to the Hub and that would be that. This time. And knowing that made the next step easy.

He bent his head forward and Jack met him halfway, his eyes still wide open. Last time, Ianto remembered, he tasted of water and fear and anger, but also something that Ianto hadn't felt in a long time. Because he'd loved Lisa - he would always love Lisa - but he hadn't felt any desire for her hybrid body. He'd told himself it was that she was sick and helpless, not that she was changed, and she was surely still beautiful, but he knew better. Jack had tasted of desire then.

He tasted of it now - a low flavor in the back of Ianto's throat - and Ianto wanted more, making that first kiss last longer than he'd expected. He hadn't let himself know he'd wanted Jack like this. It wasn't the betrayal of Lisa he thought a new love...Love? Maybe. Not yet...would be.

As he pulled back, he could feel Jack smile again. This time, Ianto put his hand on the small of Jack's back, and guided him into his bedroom, with its neatly-made bed and racks of suits.

He'd never been with a man before, and Jack knew it - he was gentle and patient, and very surprised when Ianto took matters into his own hands and went further than even he'd expected - so much so that Jack let him take charge and Ianto hadn't realized until that moment that he'd needed that, needed to be in control of something in his life, just as his body reveled in the feel of Jack underneath him, their hands and lips hungry for skin and touch and Jack shoutingIanto as he came, his clever hands bringing Ianto along with him.

It was messy and sticky, and his sheets were damp and cold - his family would have been shocked. And he and Jack fell asleep in it, wrapped up in each other's arms.

New story - Supernatural

debra.baker3@verizon.net — Fri, 15 Feb 2008 20:47:14 GMT

Incest warning, non-explicit Sam/Dean

For rayphile

Life

"Thank you, Mrs. Anderson. That is the *finest* lemonade I have ever had." Dean, steaks of dirt on his face, handed the glass back to the beaming old lady.

"You boys deserve it - it wasn't your fault that my garden was damaged, but here you are, fixing it up just for me." She collected a glass from Sam as well before going back into the house, where Sam could smell chocolate chip cookies over the odor of fertilizer and fresh soil.

"We shouldn't still be here, Dean!" Sam began digging out the holes for the new shrubs. "The demon is gone and we have too much to do."

"That's where you're wrong, Sammy. This is exactly what we should be doing." He carefully placed bulbs in a neat arc by the house, knee deep in the loose earth. "Giving something back - I'm not going to have a lot more chances of that. And we did tear this place up last night."

"We did not. It was that hellspawn - if it weren't for it, this place would still be winning prizes." It was a weird plant creature, turning the formal garden into a zoo of carnivorous flowers. They had to destroy all of them before sending it back where it belonged. Sam wanted to salt the place just to be sure, but Dean wouldn't let him. Made him dig out some ritual that wouldn't make the place barren instead. And now, after a night of fighting, and then that whole cleansing thing, he looked.

Happy. Peaceful, almost. Like he looked when he tinkered with the Impala, or used to. Sam wanted to memorize that look forever. Not that he would have to, of course, but even so. Dean, filthy and exhausted, was more beautiful than he'd ever been.

Sam refused to squash that thought down. Instead, he slipped the root ball of the azalea bush into place. It felt. Good. He'd been dealing in death, living with death so long that doing this was completely alien and new.

Dean looked like there was nothing else he'd rather do. Sam, who thought he knew his brother, didn't realize there was this about him that craved life, that would do anything to affirm it.

Mrs. Anderson was tending her cookies and there was no traffic on the road, and Sam decided, for once, to do what would feel good. So when Dean asked for the garden hose, Sam walked up to him and kissed him the way he'd knew was not right.

And Dean smiled against his lips and kissed him back.

New Story - SGA, McKay/Sheppard, Teen

debra.baker3@verizon.net — Tue, 29 Jan 2008 20:19:50 GMT

For gnomi - Happy belated birthday.

"Welcome to the worst kept secret in Pegasus! I think even Wraith know."

Worst Kept Secret

"I'm on level 10 in the North Tower, around the storage area."

"Cold."

"I'm moving east."

"Colder."

"South?"

"You're no longer freezing to death. Stay that way for a bit, okay?" Rodney took a sip of his coffee.

"You know, I think these things work and I can come back now." Oh, John was getting bored. Not a good thing.

"Yeah, yeah. You'll be happy when you get there. Just keep going south. And remember, I can hear you cursing."

The things, the Ancient devices that amplyfied hearing, were working very well - Rodney had to carry on his end of the conversation via radio, but John was just talking. Or, in this case, breathing evenly as he jogged along in the nearby tower.

The wonder was that he had to *think* about hearing John, and that he didn't have to hear the conversation six tables away. Unless he wanted to because, as it turned out, the two people - a couple of Marines, one he knew and one he didn't - were looking at him. John's breathing faded away.

"Really?" The new guy frowned.

"Yeah." The one Rodney knew...Henderson?...grinned. "You almost never see Dr. McKay without Col. Sheppard. Not if they're both on planet and off-duty. They eat half their meals together, play games, watch movies. You know, I'll bet they're playing something now. Geeks."

"The colonel is a geek? He looks like a surfer to me." New guy laughed. "But, you know. Flyboys."

"Totally, dude. He even skateboards around the city. But he's also into chess and Star Trek, and you should hear those two get into arguments about Batman. It's the dorkiest thing ever."

Dorky? Him? Maybe Sheppard, with that hair and all, but Rodney? Rodney was...okay, fine. "Is that why he hangs around *that*guy?"

Henderson just dissolved into laughter. It took several false starts before he could speak again. "Welcome to the worst kept secret in Pegasus! I think even Wraith know."

"Know what?"

"The colonel - and no one knows why. Not even the other gay guys. The colonel has this huge crush on McKay." Rodney nearly fell out of his chair. It was a joke. It had to be a joke. John was...John was straight, right?

"You're pulling my leg."

Henderson, still laughing, shook his head. "You'll see. He's a cool guy for a dork - you already know that." The new guy nodded. "But he doesn't have a lot of friends. Mostly, since Dr. Weir and Dr. Beckett died, it's been his team - two natives and McKay. And most of the time, it's McKay. And he looks at him - oh, a blind man could see it's love."

"Everyone knows?"

"Everyone. Even the aliens - and I don't mean Teyla and Ronon, although they surely do. Know. I've heard the stories - big bad Wraith queen or whoever wants to get to Sheppard, they automatically threaten McKay."

"They're dating?" The new guy smiled. "I knew people didn't care about the regs here..."

"They don't." There was an edge in Henderson's voice. "One of the perks of being in a different galaxy."

"Too true. Was pretty much the same in Korea, too."

"Yeah. Or McMurdo. But those two? That's the best part. They should be dating, but they're not. Because McKay is totally oblivious. And Sheppard isn't telling him because he's a giant dork *and* he thinks he's got us all fooled."

Sheppard. Gay. Rodney thought. It wasn't as if he bought into stereotypes, of course, and he knew his gaydar was completely nonfunctional, but John talked about girls...no, he didn't. John didn't talk about women. And he never dated anyone who didn't throw herself at him. Even stranger - so far as Rodney knew, John had no porn at all, which was very weird. And Rodney maintained John's computer, so he'd know. And he hated it when anyone touched him...

Anyone but Rodney. Rodney could feel all the pieces falling into place, like a puzzle finally making sense. He quickly tuned out the other guys and focused on Sheppard again. "John?"

"Hi. I'm going to run out of south real soon now."

"Where are you?" Rodney dumped his tray and ran out of the mess hall, towards the North Tower.

John gave his precise location. He could get there in five minutes if he hurried. "Okay. You're practically on fire."

"Why are you out of breath?"

"Never mind."

"I'm close?"

"Yes....yes. In fact, don't move. Just. Don't move."

"Rodney, I do want to find this..."

He didn't get to finish because Rodney pushed him against the wall and started kissing him. John started out stiff, and Rodney knew his hands were moving awkwardly, and he was about to let the poor guy go when John suddenly relaxed into Rodney's arms, kissing back hungrily.

"How...how did you know?"

Rodney smiled into John's mouth. "Worst kept secret in Pegasus."

The Sentinel Jim/Blair PG

debra.baker3@verizon.net — Wed, 24 Oct 2007 20:53:25 GMT

For mecurtin

Tin

"The sky is *blazing* tonight. I wish you could see them, Chief." There was only one thing that could take Jim's eyes away from the stars above his head . He only wished he could describe them to Blair - the layers of stars like curtains, the brilliant jewels, even the movements of satellites, but he didn't have the language.

"I'm not surprised. It's a new moon, for a miracle there are no clouds up there, and we're in an open area with no light pollution. But, oh, man, I am *so* jealous right now. I used to *love* planetariums - I'd get my mom to take me there every chance we had. You must feel like you're sitting in one now." Blair grinned at him, his eyes sparkling in the star light. He even bounced a little - not the way he'd have done all those years ago, but some things don't change completely.

"Almost makes up for being here instead..." Jim smiled back, taking his eyes off the stars and his partner long enough to pay attention to what they were really doing.

"Don't knock it - we're alone together, it's a lovely night and at least the coffee's good." To emphasize that, Blair poured another cup. "And, no. I have NOT had enough." He moved closer to Jim. "It is a tad cold, of course." Jim smiled and wrapped his arm around Blair's shoulder.

"You don't need to hint, you know." Jim kissed Blair's forehead. Blair smiled up at him.

"So? We're here in the truck - we should be making out." And he pulled Jim down for a real kiss - just before Jim heard a door close in the warehouse behind them. Moments later, both were out of the truck, guns aimed, and the perp they were waiting for gave up without a fight.

"Happy 10th anniversary, Jim." Blair snapped the cuffs on the guy's wrists. "Let's celebrate this with paperwork."

"Sounds good to me." Funny thing was, it was true.

New Story: Mascot (Friday Night Lights, Jason/Tim PG-13)

debra.baker3@verizon.net — Wed, 17 Oct 2007 18:57:01 GMT

For lomedat. Prompt: Lemonade

Mascot

"He's a jerk." Riggins tossed the beer can out of the truck window, and opened another.

Jason nodded. "You got that right. Coach Taylor..."

"Like he's any better, man? He got a call to a big fancy college and we got McGregor, who can't coach worth shit. Don't talk to me about Coach, okay?" Riggins emptied the new can in two gulps.

"That ain't lemonade, man." Tim tossed the can at him with a grin. "Least he wouldn't have told me not to be friends with you. Least he wouldn't have called me a mascot." Jason looked at the remains of the six pack sitting between them, but it took a lot more concentration to drive these days. Also, he'd have to ask Riggins to pour it into a mug for him, and that was more than he could do just now.

"You ain't no mascot, Street. You're the only thing keeping this team a team, with coach gone and Smash acting like he's God, not just captain, and Saracen...I don't know what's up with Saracen right now." Riggins stared at the cans, too, but didn't take one.

"Yeah, I'm a mascot. That's what I am - an in-spir-a-tion to the whole town is what I am. Bout time I faced up to it, you know? Lyla's gone all...all..." He kind of made a gesture with his hand, but it looked like nothing at all.

"Christian?"

"Like she wasn't before and all, you know? And Saracen...Matt's a good guy, you know. That's the problem. Good guys..." They don't go anywhere, unless they have talent, and Matt...he tried.

"You're a good guy. I'm going to bring you down, and you...you ain't no mascot."

Jason looked at Tim in the dimming light. He held a beer can on his forehead, letting the sweat from the can mix with the sweat from his forehead. His eyes were closed, but Jason knew they could see as well that way. And he thought about Tim and Lyla, and Tim and him, and everything that used to be. And Tim's lips were very red and he knew - he knew Tim would do anything for him.

He leaned across the seat, as far as he could. Tim must of have heard, because he opened his eyes and leaned the rest of the way - Tim could always read Jason's mind.

His lips were cold and bitter from the beer.

For - Firefly, Jayne "Alone at Last"

debra.baker3@verizon.net — Wed, 11 Jul 2007 20:44:14 GMT

Firefly. Jayne.
Gen.

Alone at Last

"I am not having you just hanging around here doing nothing. If you're not going to help on, get yourself someplace else, hear?" Kaalee, her eyes flashing in a way that would get any normal man's heart to beating faster, stood over Jayne with her hands on her hips.

"There's nothing do anyway. We got no cows to tend, and we got days before we get to the next job. What am I supposed to do with myself?"

"Unless you want learn what you can do with a wrench 'sides hit someone over the head, you best be gone. I have to keep this pretty ship moving, and I can't with you sitting in the way."

They both knew what happened when Jayne held tools that weren't guns, so he heaved himself off the decks and took himself to the kitchen, where he was as useless as a wrench in a lifeboat with nothing to wrench, what with Wash and Zoe acting inappropriate in public, and Inara looking at the captain like he was some prize piece of jewelry when the captain wasn't looking at her, and the captain doing the same and there was no way Jayne could stand to be around that gorramed mess.

So he ended up back in his bunk with nothing to do to entertain himself but think thoughts he'd rather not be thinking, since they were about someone he shouldn't be thinking about.

But everyone else was busy or pretending to be busy, or otherwise doing something that wasn't where Jayne was, and Jayne could maybe take this time to something he never, ever would care to have anyone else know.

He reached under his mattress, where he kept those things that were private for him, and found a skinny book that was filled with pictures that he didn't want no one else to see.

He opened the book to where he was the last time.

"T...th..thr...three...li..lit..littly...little...b..bluey...blue ...fish...fishies...s...swum..." If anyone heard him do that, he'd purely have to kill them.

For Castiron -Vorkoseverse Ivan/Don(na)(o) Vorrutyer

debra.baker3@verizon.net — Mon, 09 Jul 2007 20:25:52 GMT

Womanly

"Lady Donna Vorrutyer, may I present my son, Ivan?" Ivan stared. Lady Donna had to be the most...womanly woman he'd ever seen in all his seventeen years. "Ivan!"

He jumped. "I'm so sorry, Mother. I'm pleased to meet you, my lady." He bowed over her hand, which was perfectly manicured and bejeweled. And then he felt her thumb stroke him, and he nearly jumped again.

"Oh, it's always a pleasure to meet handsome young men, Lord Ivan. Lady Alys, may I steal him from you for a moment?" His mother didn't look happy - Ivan rather thought she would've stared wistfully at the somewhat rare Vor daughters his own age if she could have.

"Of course, Donna, dear. Just don't keep him too late - he has to report back to the Academy in the morning."

"Eighteen? How wonderful! Why, Ivan, I could have sworn you were five years older." She tucked her hand into the crook of Ivan's elbow and led him away. "Now, let's get you something to drink, shall we?"

Five minutes later, he had a cup of something more powerful than he'd ever had, even when he'd robbed Uncle Aral's drinks cabinet with his dratted cousin. He pretended not to choke when he took his first drink. Luckily, Lady Donna didn't seem to notice.

Fortunately, the band began to play a waltz, something he did very well. He drew her into the dance, where he found that she took his lead perfectly - they fit together like two modular units. She was just the right size, too - just below his chin and beautifully curved. He knew he was the envy of all the other cadets.

And, unlike the Vor flowers, she even knew how to talk - drawing him out on his classes at the Academy. "Linguistics? I was fascinated by that - I do believe that if the Count-My-Father had permitted me to go university, I'd have studied that. Tell me more." She was also interested in mathematics (the only woman Ivan knew who was like that was Aunt Cordelia, but Aunt Cordelia was from Beta Colony, which was wildly different.) She wasn't just the most beautiful (older!) woman in the room, she was also the most interesting, and Ivan thought that he was In Love.

He thought that even more several hours later when she'd pulled him into her bedroom in Vorrutyer House and gave him an initiation he'd never, ever forget - even with all the drinking he'd done.

His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool the next morning when he traveled back to his dorm room, but that was of no matter at all.

New Story: Wanting (Friday Night Lights, Smash/Tim)

debra.baker3@verizon.net — Fri, 20 Apr 2007 20:15:16 GMT

Wanting

Pairing: Smash/Tim
Rating: Adult

Notes: Set during "Wind Sprints". Much, much, much thanks to devilc for her wonderful beta.

Summary:

Wanting

Coach had them running tackling plays all afternoon, saying that they needed the practice. Tim knew why he was doing it, but didn't like it. It wouldn't have been so bad except for Smash, who thought that Tim was his own, personal and private tackling dummy. Wasn't like that was even something that would happen on the field, but Smash had it in for him bad. Next time that happened, Tim would see to him.

And so, he got up from the field glaring at Smash, who'd just tackled him down again. Coach set them up for the play and this time - and now Tim was mad. Okay, Tim was mad all the time these days, between Jason getting hurt and losing the game and Tyra doing what she did and all, but Smash made him madder than any of that.

So this time, he didn't get tackled. This time, he was all over Smash, pushing him to the grass and getting ready to do more than tackle, even getting his fist all balled up and his elbow cocked, with Smash looking at him as if that was the funniest thing he ever saw.

"You even sober, Riggins? Huh? Or are you just drunk again, same as you always are? Or maybe just hung-over? Not that much better from here, is it?"

There was nothing else Tim could do - just hearing those words come out of that mouth, things he'd been wondering himself since that game, wondering if maybe if he hadn't been drinking before, he might have kept Jason from being hit, things that all the beer in Texas couldn't drown out. And God knew he drank enough beer to know. He couldn't stand that, not at all. But just as he balled up his fist, got his arm back all ready to crush that damned mouth - right then, he saw Coach Taylor's face. Not his eyes behind those sunglasses, but Tim knew and so did Smash, because Smash was smart. Smarter than Tim, which Tim knew.

"Later. Tonight. Here. After ten."

"I'll be there, Riggins. You don't be late to this, either." Tim nodded, jumped to his feet and did not give Smash a hand up like maybe he should have. And they went on practicing, only looking at each other once in a while.

He didn't drink that night. He wanted to - he wanted a beer like he wanted nothing else - but not if he was facing Smash alone. Smash was smart and he was strong and fast, and there was other things that Tim didn't want to think about - same things he didn't want to think about Jason, maybe. Things which made no sense.

It was dark enough when Tim walked to the field, and there was Smash. "Not even five minutes late, Riggins. Coach'd be proud."

"Not the kinda thing I can be late for, now."

They looked at each other. The mad from earlier, that was pretty much gone after practice and dinner and so on, but this had to happen. "You mean that about my drinking, don't you?"
"You come in drunk, you come in looking like shit because you were drunk, you can't play the game at all and we will lose. You can't play your position. Only thing you're good for, Riggins, and you can't even do that. Hell, you can't even keep your girlfriend." Smash looked too damn smug at that, like he knew something.

"She ain't my girlfriend, but are you trying to tell me something?"

"Not much - just that she knows how to kiss and her skin feels so good you just don't want to stop touching it." Smash moved closer - close enough that Riggins could see by the full moon up there the muscles moving under his tight t-shirt.

Bigger muscles than Tim expected, too. Everyone looks big with shoulder pads, but Smash looked big without them.

And then the words came through. "You...you fucked Tyra?"

"I would have, but my mom came home. She was right there, on my couch in my house, you know?" And he grinned again. "And all you can do is nothing, Riggins. Because you are useless."

And that was that. Tim launched himself at Smash, tackling him straight to the field the way he should have done that guy that night and starting to punch him - and Smash gave as good as he got, maybe better, making them roll all over that field, wrestling like the guys in UFC and not letting go.

And then they had to stop to breathe, and there was Smash lying on top of him, all heavy and muscles, and somehow, Tim had gotten his hands under Smash's t-shirt and - damn. He was hard. And - he moved just a bit - so was Smash. And Smash knew it, too. Given they were touching right there, be hard for him not to.

He should have let go right then. He should have jumped up and gone home and gotten drunk. But Smash was on top of him, and Smash - didn't jump up, either. He was moving, though, and Tim had to move with him, his hands hungry for what he was feeling - skin over muscles, even if the skin had more hair than he was used to and the muscles were hard and Smash felt like no girl ever did, and Tim didn't know why that was good.

And then he stopped noticing anything but Smash's hands under his own shirt - big hands, powerful - and Smash's dick rubbing against his through their jeans, and okay, it seemed like it was going on forever, but it was real, real fast and Smash didn't take that much longer - and all of a sudden, he was the one on top and there was Smash looking up at him and for a moment - a crazy, insane moment - he wanted to kiss him. And that was more than he could think about, so Tim finally, finally jumped to his feet, and even held out his hand but Smash got up without it.

"We..." Smash took a few deep breaths and brushed his clothes. "Homosexuality is an abomination."

"Hey, I ain't no fag, Williams." It had to be said. "What just happened - fluke is all. Emotions. Something. Never happen again."

Smash nodded. "Yeah. Which means we have no need to talk about it. Ever."

"With anyone." Not that he thought Smash would - be suicide to let anyone know. Not that this was gay or anything, but people sometimes...yeah.

"See you at practice, Riggins." And, still brushing away dirt and grass, Smash walked back to his car.

Tim watched him walk. Never, ever happen again.

Even if he wanted it more than he wanted a win or Tyra or even beer. Not as much as he wanted to see Jason walk again, but he'd never want to see anything more than that.

Flash Fic: Sports Night (Danny/Casey, Mature)

debra.baker3@verizon.net — Wed, 21 Mar 2007 20:22:14 GMT

"I can't find them!" Dan began to breathe hard. Casey could see the panic starting. He, himself, was feeling an enjoyable lassitude.

"Can't find what?"

"My shoes!"

"Your shoes?"

"Yes! Brown things, cost me a fair amount, perfectly broken in and necessary for separating my socks from the sidewalks! Also, looks funny if I'm *not* wearing them. People will ask questions, and we do not want people asking questions."

"You could start a trend." Casey pulled on his pants, checking to see that the crease was as he'd left it. "We could be like the Japanese and not wear shoes in the workplace."

Dan ducked under the mixing desk again. "Yes, that would work until we had the first thumbtack or staple related tetanus, and there would be suing and blood and other not pleasant things. Casey, you tossed them some place. Where are they?"

"You're getting dust on your knees. Get up. We'll figure this out." He pulled Dan, whose clothing was thoroughly rumpled because he just threw them everywhere when he was in a hurry, to his (stocking) feet. "Let's...I know. Let's reenact the crime."

Danny glared at him. "Crime? You think someone stole my shoes? Someone snuck in here while we were...we were...and stole my shoes and we didn't notice?"

"Crime might be too strong a word. Although - given what we were doing, I don't think we'd have noticed a fire alarm." Casey knew all he'd had eyes for was Danny, moving over and in him. The building could have burned down at that point, and Casey would have died happy.

"Yeah, well. The fact remains that my shoes were on my feet when we came into the sound room and this is not a large room and I cannot find them and wardrobe does not have shoes because no one sees our feet. And you're just putting your shirt on like there's nothing wrong."

He couldn't help it. Panic looked so cute on him - Casey pulled Danny towards him and kissed him. Thoroughly. Thoroughly enough that he contemplated taking his clothes off again.

"Aha! There they are!" Dan pounced on the wayward footware, which were hiding in plain sight next to the door. Casey sighed, and tied on his own.

Jeremy gave them a strange look when they left the room. "Guys? I understand you want to keep things quiet and all, but you should probably wear your own shirts afterwards."

Danny looked *adorable* at those words.

Games (SGA John Sheppard/Rodney McKay Adult)

debra.baker3@verizon.net — Thu, 15 Mar 2007 17:32:14 GMT

Games

"Rodney?" He didn't have look up from his laptop to know that Sheppard was leaning - oh, God, *leaning* - against the door to the empty lab.

"Busy."

"Yeah, I can see that. You can put that seven over that eight." Rodney automatically moved the card before scowling at Sheppard. "And only one suit?"

"I'm not exactly playing for the challenge, okay?" He closed the Spider solitaire window. "I'm just relaxing for a moment while working this very important problem for...the city."

"Sure." He sat on the corner of the desk, barely visible in the glow of the laptop. "I don't want to do this, either, okay? But we need to talk."

"No, we don't. We don't need to talk, ever, and we can forget that anything confusing happened. Because I'm happy to bury it and just be, you know. What we've always been, and anyway, Mr. Open, you're good at keeping stuff inside, so why change now?" By which Rodney meant, yes. We do.

***

"Rodney, it's not like we're going any place new, okay? It's just a training thing at the Alpha site." Sheppard gestured at the group of Marines waiting by the gate. "For the new guys."

"Yes, I can see that, and it's not like I want to do the little torture thing your military has devised - running backwards for two kilometers with half your pack on your head or whatever."

Sheppard stuck his finger over Rodney's mouth. "Don't tell them that - it's for next week!" Rodney pulled it off in disgust. "Why do you want to go?"

Because there was absolutely nothing to do at the station, which was why Sheppard was taking the Marines out in the first place, and all his research was up to date and it was totally boring. "There are ... readings I'd like to take."

"You just can't stand to let me out of your sight, right, darling?" The Marines grinned at each other.

Okay, he knew this game. He watched guys play it at college. "Well - you know how I get."

"Oh, I do. I do." Sheppard leaned in closely. He smelled of clean exercise and coffee. "Seriously, Rodney - this is going to be live fire. You being there is a bad idea."

Yeah, not that bored. "Fine, Colonel. I'll figure something out." Sheppard nodded and signaled Chuck to dial up the alpha site. Rodney thought of something *good*. "Colonel!"

"Yes, Rodney?"

"Not even a kiss good-bye?"

"What was I thinking?" Sheppard looked at the bunch of very young men and winked. Then he planted a kiss on Rodney's mouth, and grinned hugely. The gate ka-whooshed at that exactly moment, and the entire laughing bunch disappeared.

Rodney rolled his eyes to show the rest of the people in the gateroom that he totally got the joke, which he totally did, and even thought of saying something extremely witty except he couldn't think of anything witty, so he just left to find something to do that wouldn't involved thinking about John Sheppard's mouth. Because, of course, thinking about John Sheppard's mouth was bad thing.

Which was why he was playing Spider in the dark with one suit. Since *not* thinking about Sheppard's mouth wasn't working well enough for him to play with more than one suit.

And it was even harder with the mouth in the room.

***

"That's what I thought." Sheppard moved his hand like he'd wanted to put it on Rodney's shoulder or something and then thought better of it, which Rodney thought was good and bad and confusing and the only place he could reach was Sheppard's knee which was even more confusing. "Look, I have to explain."

"No, no, you don't. I roomed with a football player in college until I got my own room. I know all about those games. Not that Jason ever played them with me, but it was one of those things the jocks did, and I know Jason was straight because I spent half that semester sleeping in the lounge, and the other half made my inability to buy porn less of a problem. So when he pretended to kiss other guys or called them 'ladies', well. Okay, I didn't think you'd, you know. Actually kiss me, but I'm not having some sort of heterosexual panic here, okay?"

Except he was. Because he didn't want to say that while three-quarters of the porn replacement fantasies were about the random girls, one quarter. Weren't.

"Too bad. Because, Rodney, I've been wanting to do that almost since we met." And then Sheppard smiled with that mouth. "And I was sort of hoping you'd let me do it for real."

And before Rodney could answer, or, really, his brain could reboot, they were both on their feet and Sheppard's arms were around him and his lips - oh, they were nice. Warm. A bit chapped, and there was stubble, but Rodney decided he liked stubble. And Sheppard's tongue - that was also nice. And it seemed he was kissing back, and his tongue - and, yeah, he liked it.

They finally had to breathe. Or something. "I thought..."

Sheppard - maybe he should call him John now? "Yeah. You weren't wrong about the game." He didn't let go from that clinch, either. His hands moved over Rodney's back as if they needed to touch him - as if they were hungry for this. "I just wasn't playing it."

"Good." And then they kissed again to the light of Spider Solitaire playing itself.

Promise

debra.baker3@verizon.net — Wed, 24 Jan 2007 20:37:43 GMT

Sequel to Consequences and Final.

Draco/Neville PG

Promise

Lancashire was green. Somehow, Draco had always thought that the stony moors would be grey and forbidding, but even through the rain, it was green. Then again, this was where he lived. Things would be green for him.

He walked up to the front door, broom over his shoulder and drew his wand to signal his presence. Then he put his wand away and got back on his broom, wincing in advance. *He* wouldn't be sitting in some study or drawing room. Not him. Draco flew off to the rear of the great house, hoping to find...he didn't know what.

There was a kitchen door, propped open, and a very neat vegetable garden, with a familiar looking toad hoping around in the black mud. Even Neville would...yes. Greenhouse just past the garden, and there was someone inside. Draco dropped down onto the stone pathway and shouldered the broom again. He was about to knock on the door when he caught sight of himself, dirty and wet and worn out from the long flight. He thought for a moment about fixing his appearance, but he didn't have the energy to care. Especially since it was likely he'd be on that broom and gone.

Neville was only a few feet from the door, pruning a plant that twined lovingly around him. At Draco's knock, he turned, and his eyes widened. He then took off his dragonhide gloves and for a moment, Draco thought he was going to go for his wand. That's certainly what Draco would have done in his case.

Instead, Draco found himself dragged into the greenhouse. "What are you doing here? Everyone's looking for you! And where's Snape?" Now Neville took out his wand - all shiny and dark red - and touched Draco's robes with it. It had been so long since Draco was dry.

"We...Snape said it was safest if we split up. I don't know where he is. I didn't know where else to go." Now that he was dry and, maybe, for a moment, safe, he started to shake with nerves and exhaustion.

"Come. Sit here." Draco let himself be guided to a bench and covered with an old cloak before Neville sat beside him and wrapped him in his arms. "It's..." Neville bit back any words he would have said, and just stroked Draco's back. "Why?"

Draco had to compose himself for a moment - he couldn't let Neville hear his voice break. "It was the safest place. No one would ever suspect, and I hoped...I hoped you were right. When you said that you would never hate me." That awful day when he failed at the one task he'd been asked to do, and everything ended.

He felt a pair of lips press against his neck. "I couldn't. Because you didn't kill him, and you couldn't kill him. You're too strong for that."

"You mean weak, don't you? Weak and cowardly - a 'true' Slytherin, just like the Prophet, right?"

Neville pulled back and looked Draco in the eyes. His own were ringed with red. "I never believe the Prophet. My gran taught me better." He bit his lip, and his face grew melancholy.

"I read about her there, though. Some birthday gift. Right that night?" That's one reason he thought he'd could find haven there.

"It was like - she'd done her job. I was seventeen. She could. Quit." He shook his head. "It's...safer for you, though. There's only a couple of house elves and me. And Trevor." And then he leaned forward and kissed Draco's mouth. "Rain's slackened off and I'm done in here. Let's go to the house, shall we?"

"I'll...just stay the night, then?" He couldn't hope for more, but he did.

"You idiot." Neville drew him to his feet. "As if I'd let you go." He smiled. "You've come home, Draco."

And Draco looked into those eyes that had never lied to anyone and believed.

Five things about John Sheppard (Gen)

debra.baker3@verizon.net — Wed, 27 Sep 2006 20:48:05 GMT

Five Things about John Sheppard only his team knows

1. The lights in his room never go completely dark.
"There you go, Major. The nice drugs should kick in soon, and you'll be in happy land in no time." He carefully levered Sheppard onto his bed and took off his boots before draping the blankets over him.

"Very funny, Rodney. If I didn't just strain..."

"Dislocate."

"Hurt, in a manly, heroic manner, my shoulder, I'd..." He'd rolled down a hill because he'd tripped on a tree root. In broad daylight. Rodney snickered.

"Yeah, right. Look, I'll just get the lights, okay? Radio me if you need anything." He hit the light switch, and the room went...dim. Very dim. But not dark. "Major?"

"I...that's what happens here."

"I can fix that."

"Just get out of here, McKay. It's what I want, okay?"

Rodney, for once in his life, didn't say anything.

But he did cobble together a low-energy, lightweight LED that made a tent on moonless night into twilight, and claimed he didn't want to be on a strange planet in the dark.

2. He doesn't play Sudoku like anyone else.

Teyla stopped as she passed John's table in the mess hall hours after dinner - indeed, closer to breakfast. He had a pad of paper in front of him. This was already odd since most of the Atlantis people used their computers for everything.

On it was a grid - nine boxes of nine boxes, arranged in rows of three. She knew the Atlantean number system was based on ten, not the far more logical twelve, as if they had not gotten past counting on their toes.

"This is that game I see some of the others play, is it not? Where the empty spaces must be filled?

John started and looked. "Uh. Yeah. I...sometimes find it relaxing." He did not look relaxed, but that was not what caught her eye.

While the others who played the game used their computers or preprinted books with erasable styli, John used ink. Two colors, in fact.

He was making his own puzzles and then solving them. Later, she asked Dr. McKay if that was normal, and McKay stared at her as if she were insane.

3. He never sleeps on mission

"Sheppard?" Ronon crouched by the fire, where Sheppard stared at the device McKay had built for him. He'd never been on mission overnight before.

"Go back to bed, Ronon." He could hear the tension in Sheppard's voice.

"Judging by that moon, I should have been here a while ago. It's my turn on watch. It's nearly Teyla's."

"It doesn't matter, Ronon. I'm awake, so the rest of you need to sleep."

"Do you do this every time?"

"Just go to sleep, Ronon. I'll see you in the morning." Sheppard's voice had an edge that Ronon knew too well. He left to crawl into a sleeping bag with the others, but he didn't sleep.

That morning, Teyla told him about what happened when Sheppard slept, even with Rodney's toy.

4. He knew the corridors of the city better than anyone.
"What's that sound, Lieutenant?" The Marine - Jenkins - stopped and brought up his gun.

"I don't know." Ford got his own ready. "It sounds very familiar." He looked around the dim hallway, empty except for him and Jenkins. "You stay here. I'll investigate."

"But, sir..."

"Order, Jenkins." The man nodded and stood at ease, holding his weapon at the ready. Ford followed the sound around the corner.

Oh, yeah, that sound was familiar. He'd heard it every day in high school. He made it himself - he was, after all, the champion of Washington Junior High, only to be superseded by a *girl* in 10th grade.

Major Sheppard was riding a skateboard up and down an unused corridor in Atlantis, and he was doing it with deadly seriousness in the middle of the night. Ford watched for a few minutes, admiring his form on the straight - pretty good for the Major's age - and then turned back to Jenkins, telling him it was nothing and to complete their patrol.

Ford later found out Sheppard did this every night he could. And wished he'd brought his own skateboard.

5. Sometimes, the tricks don't work.
"Go to sleep, Rodney." Sheppard's voice sounded more exasperated than anything else. "We're stuck here for the night. Just. Go to sleep."

"Easy for you to say, Colonel. You don't need a special mattress." Not that this wasn't comfortable, really, but it was too dark for Rodney to see his hand in front of his face and they were...well, the door wasn't opening. This was not a good thing, and Rodney knew it, and knew it for reasons he'd never tell Sheppard. And they'd taken the toy away, too.

"Yeah, right." Rodney heard him turn over in his own bed, and gave up. He even heard Sheppard's breaths even out - he'd fallen asleep.

Rodney tried to sleep, but all he could do was wait. Maybe this time...he could heard the first signs - the gasps and sobs as the nightmare overtook him.

He huddled under the covers and waited some more, until maybe Sheppard would not toss him aside at a touch. Or went past the dreams. Or woke up.

Rodney wished he had the courage to do more than make devices and teach him how to do number puzzles.

Note: I did not watch "The Return" until 10PM tonight, and I read no reviews. When John mentioned sudoku books, I squealed.

Clue

debra.baker3@verizon.net — Tue, 12 Sep 2006 16:32:31 GMT

SGA. Sheppard/McKay PG-13

AU from "Dr. McKay and Mrs. Miller"

Rod gets a clue.

Clue

Everyone was there - Elizabeth, wringing her hands, Teyla looking inscrutable in her draperies, Ronon looking - well, Ronon was Ronon, apparently - and Sheppard. John.

Oh, God, John. He didn't realize how much he missed John. John, with his pressed uniform - man had smuggled in a travel iron - and his food stains and his hair.

Rod never knew how much he'd miss John's *hair* - every bit of hair gel, every millimeter of that stupid part, the one which Rod believed with every fiber of his being that John did with a ruler.

Sheppard was sexy as hell, and laid back, nothing like this person standing in front of him, his hands moving and his mouth open and nothing being said.

And if the other Rodney and that Sheppard never noticed the tension between them - the one that everyone else smirked about, well.

He walked up to John, whose eyes were big and hazel, and whose shirt showed more signs of dropped pudding than usual, because his hands got clumsy unless he was flying. And he took off his leather jacket and wrapped it around John's shoulders. Just to see - but it didn't change anything. It was still his John, now utterly in shock and so cute about it.

And, well, no point in overthinking this one. He slid his arms under the jacket, letting it fall to the ground, and gathered his John in, and - it was only Elizabeth and Ronon and Radek and Teyla.

He kissed his John. And it was - well, it was awful, because John's mouth was open but not responding and his body was all stiff - stiffer than usual, but it was still John's mouth and body and then John melted, and it was good.

"I'm home. You were wrong, and I'm home." Rod spoke right into John's mouth.

John just kissed him back.

Threat for basingstoke

debra.baker3@verizon.net — Fri, 04 Aug 2006 14:30:01 GMT

This was written as a birthday present.

Stargate: Atlantis Sheppard/McKay
Adult

No spoilers

Summary: "And by saying inspired, I do not mean that the there is some malevolent being out there who is out to make my life totally hell, except that I totally do mean that."

Threat

"When the lights starting flickering, okay, we could handle that - it would take a bit of fidgeting, but even the engineering types could do basic work."

"Rodney..." Sheppard leaned against the wall. The lights dimmed and brightened again.

"But we were not finished when the temperature started going wonky. Which is why it's snowing in the gateroom, but people are working in their underwear in the lab, and while seeing Simpson like that is fuel for fantasies to come, not so much with Radek. But we were working on that, too - your guys were good for that." Rodney wiped the sweat out of his eyes with his thermal shirt. He paced some more, trying to get his things straight in his head, but the shaking of the city made it hard. "The stabilizers - now that was inspired. And by saying inspired, I do not mean that the there is some malevolent being out there who is out to make my life totally hell, except that I totally do mean that. Because that can be the only explanation why I am currently seasick - or I would be had I not emptied my stomach earlier because all the refrigerators were flickering too."

"No one has food poisoning, Rodney. Especially you."

"I do not have food poisoning because I took the precaution of emptying my stomach." He rolled his eyes at such an obvious statement. Really - did no one else have common sense? He'd have thought Sheppard, at least....

But then, Sheppard had dragged him out of the sauna/lab into the freezer/corridor, and then locked them in this not-quite-as-sauna-like closet for no discernable reason except that Radek (and there was the image of nearly naked Radek again to torture him) asked him to, which was totally unreasonable as the entire city was breaking down around them. And he had to come up with a reason why so that they could have it stop breaking down, so taking him out of the lab was clearly counterproductive, but here they were and why was Sheppard frowning at him like that? He ran his fingers through his hair, which he knew made him look like a total dork, what with the frozen sweat - and he was so catching pneumonia from this, too, which was totally Sheppard's fault. And Radek's, and the malevolent being. Definitely, the malevolent being.

"Rodney, if you don't calm down, I'll...I'll....I'll give you a blowjob." Sheppard put his hands on his hips.

Rodney stopped. And turned around. And. "You...you're threatening me with a blowjob?"

Sheppard frowned again. His eyes widened. "Yes. Yes, I am ." He sounded vaguely surprised.

"Okay, leaving aside the idea that that was a threat - which deserves its own exploration - since when does Captain Kirk do blowjobs? And I never bought that thing about him and Spock, so don't even go there."

"Kirk and Spock?" Sheppard shook his head. "No, no. Just look at the fifth movie. It's totally Spock and McCoy."

Rodney considered. "That *would* be possible *if* the fifth movie ever happened, but we ALL know it didn't."

"Only the story never happened. The campfire scenes did." He smirked.

"Yes, well. Huh. That doesn't change the fact that YOU just threatened ME with a blowjob." Yeah, backtracking. That'll work. Except what was he backtracking to?

"You're not panicking anymore, are you?" He smirked *more*, which, combined with the blowjob idea, gave Rodney images that overwrote Simpson in a sports bra.

"That's because I'm wondering what universe you're from that a blowjob, *any* blowjob at all, really, but especially one from someone like you, would be a threat...universe. Universe." He tapped his radio. "Radek, get some clothes on - PLEASE - and check the ZPM for leakage. Just do it, all right? I don't know what kind - something that doesn't look like it belongs. You'll figure it out. Just do it." He turned to Sheppard.

"Let me out now? Not panicking now."

"Don't you want me to make good on my threat?" He moved closer. And - wow, Sheppard looked really, really good there on his knees.

"This is...you're not doing this. Oh. Oh. You are. And...you're...oh."

Sheppard let go. "Rodney, if you don't stop talking..."

Okay, that *was* a threat. Rodney shut up and let Sheppard's mouth - very talented, too - go to work, and also his hands and there were teeth and oh....Yes.

Twenty minutes later, they were on the floor with Sheppard buried deep inside Rodney, while the city calmed down around them and Radek crowed triumphantly in Rodney's ear.

Answers

debra.baker3@verizon.net — Tue, 18 Jul 2006 18:53:25 GMT

cluegirl wanted some pr0n. However, this is what came out instead.

Harry Potter. Snape/Lupin. G

"Why did you do it?" Lupin didn't look up from the tome. There was neither blame nor disgust in his voice.

"I had no choice." Snape dropped down beside him, carefully keeping his hands open and visible. They also shook, but he could not help that.

They'd been shaking ever since that night. It was fortunate that Narcissa could make any potions they needed.

"Clearly. How could you put yourself in that position?" He turned a page.

"It was necessary. Albus...Albus demanded I do it." Remus nodded. "You believe me?"

Finally, Lupin turned to face him. He looked thinner than ever, and grayer. "I know you, Severus. I know the boy you were and the man you are. You do what you have to do, even if it breaks your heart. And you saved young Malfoy."

"If that is the only thing I am remembered for, Lupin...I will have done better than I would expect."

"Better than I have done. I can't save anyone." He looked straight into Snape's eyes. "I will watch all those bright young lives...and there is nothing I can do."

"You gave them the tools they need, Lupin. You are a better teacher than I am." Snape gazed back, wondering why his heart was beating so quickly.

"When this war is over, Severus. If both of us survive it with any sort of a soul, or any sort of a heart - I'd like to teach you." He placed his hand over Snape's. Snape nodded and grasped it before pouring out the intelligence he'd come to give.

Some Far-off Touch

debra.baker3@verizon.net — Tue, 16 May 2006 19:26:16 GMT

Stargate: Atlantis Sheppard/McKay PG-13

With many,many, many thanks to mecurtin for beta'ing this.

Some Far-off Touch

Rodney felt the bed dip and John's arms, cold beneath the long sleeves, wrap around him. He reached a decision and turned over inside John's embrace, pulling him closer in. John shivered and buried his head in Rodney's neck, his skin clammy and damp. Rodney, not sure if John was even awake dared to press a kiss onto his sweaty hair and held him as close as he could.

****

"We have found him!" Teyla's voice crackled over the radio. Rodney, who had been called back to Atlantis for what turned out not to have been an emergency at all, paused in his repair work. He felt like he could breath for the first time since Sheppard had been separated from the others, which would not have happened had he been there. The relief in Elizabeth's voice was warm in his ears. "Can you get him to the gate?"

"We will be there shortly. He is...uninjured." Rodney could feel the words Teyla left unspoken.

"What she means is that I'm fine." There was an edge to Sheppard's voice. "I'm conscious, on my feet and in one piece. Let us through the gate now, please." The gateroom scurried into action, grating against Rodney's nerves. He didn't care. Sheppard was just fine. He said so, and that was good enough for Rodney. It had to be - if only his heart would listen instead of vibrating in his chest like that.

Minutes later, the three of them came through, Ronon clutching a bandage to one arm and Teyla looking frazzled. Rodney barely noticed them. Sheppard's lips were pale and his eyes were large, and he wrapped his arms around himself, as if he were cold. He pushed away everyone, even Rodney.

"Elizabeth, I'm sorry. I...failed in the mission. The natives don't take kindly to visitors."

"John..." She shook her head. "Go to the infirmary - take Ronon there, and get checked out. We'll talk later."

"I'm fine." He turned away.

"Well, Ronon's not. Take him down." Her voice was hard.

"It's barely a scratch. Here, I'll show you." Ronon started to peel away the bandages. Elizabeth dissuaded him quickly, reminding him of protocol, and the two of them departed for the infirmary. When they disappeared, she radioed Carson to warn him.

"And try to keep Colonel Sheppard there long enough to get a look at him. Something is...off."

"I'll do my best, but he runs faster than I do. Beckett out."

A half hour later, his hair still wet from a shower, Sheppard reappeared. Rodney looked up from the console he was still repairing. "Doc said I was fine, which I am. Just let me get this report out of the way so I can get something to eat." He tugged at the zipper of his jacket and rubbed at his arms.

"All right." She led the way into her office. Rodney watched them through the glass walls. Sheppard thrust his hands into his jacket pockets and said something very quickly. Elizabeth asked him a question, and Rodney could see that Sheppard's hands were clenching. His own tightened in sympathy.

He answered with a few words and Elizabeth took his arm and asked more. He wrenched it away but answered. She pressed more and he stepped back and shook his head. Rodney could feel the distress streaming off Sheppard even at that distance and through the office walls.

Elizabeth could clearly feel it, too, but Sheppard flinched when she reached for him again. He took a deep breath and left.

"John!" She leaned out the door. "Talk to someone."
fine, Elizabeth. Just...leave it." He left the gateroom before she could find anything else to say.

She turned to Rodney and gestured with her chin.

He shook his head. "I don't want the Colonel to run from me, too. I'll be in the lab. I'm sure there are a half-dozen problems for me to get my hands on." And not a few necks. He left her gaping in silence.

Sure enough, his lab was in a shambles - well, not a shambles, but things were out of place and Zelenka was tangled in the stupidest project, and Miko was reaching too far in her research and at least Rodney could do something and not think about John Sheppard and what he wasn't talking about.

Two nights later, he woke with someone pressing close behind him - someone in a well-worn long-sleeved t-shirt, soft against Rodney's bare back. Someone cold under the soft material - Rodney could feel the heat leaching out of his body.

He knew it was Sheppard, was John, from the rhythm of the breath against the back of his neck. What he didn't know was why John was there at all, or even if he was awake.

And then John's arms - so cold, hard against his chest, wrapped around him, and Rodney felt like a stuffed animal, held by a small child, and the city would have had to be shuddering under attack before Rodney would have made John let go.

Instead he managed to find the blanket he'd kicked off earlier - he was always too warm at night - and drag it over both of them before wrapping his own arms over John's in the hope of transferring more heat.

He had no expectations of getting more sleep, since he'd never managed to sleep wrapped in someone's arms before. He didn't care.

"Rodney? What...oh, God. I'm...I have to..." The bed rose and John was out of the room before Rodney could move.

Two hours later, he dragged himself out of bed and through a shower. John - Sheppard was in the mess hall and Rodney sat down next to him because he always did, and after a minute, Sheppard stole his fruit juice as usual.

They both pretended that the world had not fallen out of balance, but Rodney could feel Sheppard's eyes on him. He had to force himself to not look up.

"So, when's our next off-world mission, Colonel?"

"After the amazing success of the last trip, I thought we'd cool it for a week or so." Rodney nearly spilled his coffee.

"Are you sure?"

"Drop it, okay?" Rodney' own jaw ached with how hard Sheppard's was clenched. He could only stare and gobble down his breakfast in response.

Fortunately, one of the newcomers made a stupid mistake - those tolerances were off by 3/8th of a point! - so Rodney could scream himself calm again. At least no one behaved oddly in the lab.

Two nights later, John was back in his bed. And three nights after that. And the next day, Sheppard refused to look at him at the staff meeting.

Rather, he kept rubbing his hands except when someone spoke to him. Elizabeth's eyes moved from Sheppard's hands - so raw and painful - to Rodney.

Rodney could not find it in him to care at all about the meeting.

Sheppard ran out, but before Rodney could go after him, Teyla blocked his way.

"What is happening with the Colonel, Rodney?"

"He won't let me near him! How should I know?" He could feel the frustration build inside of him. "And I was trying to get to him now. Idiots."

"Rodney." Elizabeth gave him her entire attention. "Please do what you can."

"Why me? Does Colonel Sheppard report directly to me? Isn't it sufficient that the entire city depends upon my brain and hands for our very survival? I mean, they're up to the task, which I've already proven time and again, so I suppose you take it for granted that I'll always do so, which I will if only to preserve myself and the one or two others who are worth saving and we can't do this alone, so I might as well..."

Until the day he couldn't, and he'd woken up dry-mouthed, his heart pounding, more times than he was willing to count, because Rodney was a realist and knew that the day would come when he would fail

"Dr. McKay, we are all aware of all you've done for this city and for my own people as well, but Colonel Sheppard is your friend." Teyla crossed her arms.

"He's your friend, too."

Elizabeth drew in a deep breath. "Rodney, please find a way to talk to the colonel."

Which is what he'd wanted to do in the first place. But now Sheppard was gone, and if he didn't want to be found, Atlantis would hide him. He told this to Teyla and Elizabeth before stalking off.

He searched for a couple of hours, but gave up and returned to his lab to get his hands on some solid physics. He could barely hold on to the math, though, and gave up. He handed it to Radek and settled in to supervise.

He couldn't work and he couldn't leave the lab, and he didn't know if Sheppard was rubbing the skin off his hands waiting to be found, or if he were running away -- neither off which sounded like the Sheppard he knew.

Sheppard wasn't at dinner. Rodney could feel everyone's eyes on him as he forced his dinner down - blaming him for not finding Sheppard.

And John didn't wrap himself around Rodney that night, either.

Lorne organized the Marines to look for Sheppard the next day. "We'll do our best, Dr. Weir, but you know as well as I do that the Colonel will only show when he's ready or if we need him."

"Understood, Major."

Rodney considered creating an emergency, but that would have been amazingly stupid and although he came up with several intriguing possibilities, he put them aside.

He managed to do some actual work that day, even if everyone tiptoed around him.

And that night, he turned around when a too-thin John climbed into his bed.

***

"Colonel?" Rodney tightened his arms. No response. "Colonel? John?"

He felt John's head move off his neck. "Yeah." John pushed at him, but Rodney didn't let that happen.

"Not this time. Just. Stay. Go to sleep. Be here in the morning. Okay?" He stroked John's back through the t-shirt.

Every muscle in John's body relaxed at Rodney's touch and words. "Okay." He fell asleep so quickly that Rodney wondered if he'd slept at all the night before.

And none of this felt like John Sheppard.

He was still there in the morning, sitting cross-legged on the bed and rubbing his hands.

"You were safe for me. Are safe."

Rodney pulled himself up, ignoring the pounding in his head. He'd cure that with coffee later. Or maybe sleep. He'd only slept a couple of hours that night. "Safe?"

"Yeah." He scrubbed his hands on his pants. "I think. Why I came the first time. I kinda freaked, when I woke up here and holding on to you. Why I had to leave."

"The second time? The others? You were still sleepwalking?"

"You were safe. And warm and I was cold. Am cold. And you didn't mind." He began rubbing his upper arms.

"You were certainly cold - you're all surface area and no insulation. I, on the other hand, have body heat to spare, and I was quite willing to share it with you." He stopped and chewed that over. "Am. Am quite willing to share it with you."

He slid back onto his side and pulled back the blanket in front of him. John blinked for a moment and then lay down, pressing his back against Rodney. His shirt rode up a bit - Too loose - and his skin was chill against Rodney's bare stomach.

He wondered if John was ever warm.

Rodney pulled the blanket over both of them and held John close in the narrow bed.

"Better?"

"I don't know. Yeah. Thanks."

Rodney could feel t-shirt, muscles, bones. "Don't you eat? I know I require more food than most to keep up my blood sugar and so I can keep barely on top of any emergency as well as just the day to day idiocy, but even you need to fuel yourself on occasion, besides stealing a couple of fries here and there."

"I do not steal your fries. You put vinegar on them."

"Better than ketchup...don't change the subject, John."

"I eat. When I'm hungry." Wow. That was a button, wasn't it? Rodney could sense every muscle in John's body tensing.

"You haven't been very hungry lately." John shrugged in his arms, still tense. "What the hell happened there?"

"Not going to talk about it." To Rodney's surprise, he made no move to leave.

"You've been not talking about it for a while now, and I don't see that working very well for you. Not that I terribly mind having you here, you understand, but I'd rather it were, um, recreational." He nuzzled the back of John's head, brushing his lips over the short hairs. "Did you have to...do something there?"

John crossed his arms over Rodney's. "Yeah. After I got separated from Teyla and Ronon. They had me...I couldn't use my weapon. Not without - they were using kids. Kids."

"They didn't want you to go?"

"They thought I'd stolen something. I didn't - I just touched it. They didn't believe me. They took out knives. I reached for my weapon. They grabbed the kids. I started to run. One guy got me by the throat. Don’t know why he didn't use his knife." He clenched his fists against Rodney's arms. "I had to...it felt like snapping a stick. With my hands. I had to. Like I needed another nightmare."

"None of us need more nightmares, thank you very much."

"I never used my hands before. When I look at them, I feel like..." He removed his fists from Rodney's arms. Rodney traced hid fingers down his arms - he was rubbing his hands again. "Ronon and Teyla came by after...they didn't see. They'd dropped the kids. The thing reappeared, but Ronon got cut in the fight." John rubbed his hands harder.

Rodney closed his own hands over them, to keep them apart. "Like that'll do any good. Look, you had to do it - you'd be dead otherwise. Or not here and then Atlantis would just collapse out of anxiety for you, and it doesn't like me or Carson enough to make up for that, and we'd go home miserable failures with the Wraith on our tails and it would have been all your fault, except that it won't happen now."

"Yeah, I've told myself that, too. Sort of. Doesn't work, either." His hands were quiet, though. "I'm sorry, Rodney. I'm dumping this on you."

"So?" Rodney shrugged. "Not that I'm going to be much help, and you should talk to someone who thinks they can help with the voodoo dolls and the...whatever, but you came here. And I'm here. And I'm glad you came back for reasons almost entirely unrelated to fears about going home miserable failures. Except maybe the miserable part."

John went still. And quiet. For a long time, which got Rodney feeling a bit worried that maybe he said the wrong thing, which happened on a regular enough basis that maybe he should wonder if he ever said the right thing, but he had to sometimes, or why would he even have people who tolerated him except for his genius, so when they realized that he thought sometimes he was only pretending and that circle of thought wasn't going to do him any good, so he just kissed the back of John's neck and petting his arms.

"I don't know. I...should be used to that." He turned over. Rodney stroked his back - he could cut himself on those shoulder blades but John wasn't cold anymore and that was a plus. Which reminded him and he pulled the blanket back up. No sense in wasting body heat. Even Rodney could only produce so much. "But. I'd be pretty miserable not being here, too."

His lips were cold and chapped, and he was clumsier than Rodney would have believed, and both of them truly needed to brush their teeth, and Rodney was so not expecting it, either, but he returned the kiss anyway, and felt John move against him, and then felt him begin to shake in a way that was completely not erotic.

Eventually, John went back to sleep, but Rodney kept watch for nightmares.