Part Seven: Submission Part Eight: Sensory Deprivation Part Nine: Double Trouble

 

Part Seven: Submission

 

 

Ten days later, Rodney stumbled sleepily to the door of his quarters and opened it in response to the insistent chiming.

 

"Good morning, Rodney!" Colonel Sheppard said, in an insanely cheerful voice, stepping into his room. Rodney glowered at him.

 

"What's good about it?" he grunted, walking back to his bed to pull on his boots. He hadn't bothered shaving because he assumed that whatever it was Colonel Sheppard wanted to do to him would require a lot of sweating and generally being uncomfortable to the point of him requiring a long shower when the hour was up. He had managed to put on his pants but still hadn't changed from his sleep tee shirt into his workout tee shirt. He tied his bootlaces very slowly, like a condemned man delaying his own execution. He'd deliberately left the light off but Sheppard seemed to feel a need for everything to be as bright-eyed and bushy-tailed as he was and he turned it on, making Rodney utter a curse and screw up his eyes against the sudden harsh brightness.

 

"So, you're not a morning person then?" Sheppard said, leaning against the wall.

 

"It's six am! I went to bed at one and now you've got me up early just so I can wear myself out with pointless callisthenics," Rodney grumbled, finishing with his bootlaces and getting up with a sigh.

 

"Not pointless, Rodney, and who the hell uses the word 'callisthenics' anyway? It's a drill – so I can teach you how to take care of yourself in a fight."

 

"Why now?" Rodney asked, getting up slowly, his entire body feeling sluggish. "I mean, we've been going on offworld missions for a couple of years and suddenly *now* you feel I need a military tutorial? And forgive me if I'm wrong but isn't the whole point of your job to protect me because as a civilian I'm clearly incapable of doing that myself? How would you like it if I insisted you spent an hour a day in the lab with me learning about astrophysics and mechanical engineering, hmm?"

 

"I think it'd be great." Sheppard smiled at him pleasantly and Rodney scowled.

 

"Yes. Well. You still haven't answered my question. Why now?"

 

"I agree – I must apologise to you," Sheppard said. Rodney screwed up his eyes suspiciously. Sheppard grinned. "I should have suggested it a long time ago. It hasn't been fair on you and the events of our most recent mission brought home to me just how remiss I've been in taking care of your personal safety."

 

"What?" Rodney blinked.

 

"You're invaluable to us, Rodney," Sheppard told him. "Your knowledge and expertise are far too important an asset for us not to take very good care of them. You've always handled yourself pretty well offworld, but you haven't had any formal training and now I'm going to take care of that. A bit late, admittedly, but I promise you I won't fail you again."

 

"Thanks. I think," Rodney said, wondering how the hell this whole conversation had been turned around so that it looked like he should be *grateful* about the coming hour of hell he was about to be subjected to.

 

"Ready?" Sheppard asked.

 

"Tee shirt," Rodney muttered, reaching for his clean tee shirt...and then hesitating. He hated undressing in front of people and he really didn't want to be half naked in front of Colonel Sheppard of all people.

 

"Well hurry up – it's already nearly five past," Sheppard said, glancing at his watch. Rodney bit on his lip. It seemed incredibly prissy to ask the Colonel to turn around so in the end he pulled his bed tee shirt over his head, feeling his face flush as he did so, and quickly pulled on the other tee shirt, all the time aware of the Colonel's eyes upon him. In fact, the Colonel's demeanour of casual indifference was disturbing of and by itself when contrasted with the tautness of his muscles, and the way he was leaning against the wall, never taking his eyes off Rodney. Rodney had the disturbing sensation of there being a panther in the room, poised ready to spring, sleek and powerful. He shivered and brushed the thought aside; it was only Colonel Sheppard.

 

"Right – I thought we'd go for a little run first, to warm you up. Just a quick jog down to the South West pier. Then we can go to the practice room and start work on some drills. Sound okay?" Sheppard asked.

 

"No. Sounds horrible. Does that mean I don't have to do it?" Rodney asked. Sheppard grinned at him, and Rodney had that same sensation of being locked in a room with a dangerous predator.

 

"You'll be fine," the Colonel told him, placing a hand on his shoulder as they exited the room together. It might just have been Rodney's imagination but that hand felt very warm and oddly affectionate.

 

They set off at a gentle jog which Rodney was surprised to find he was able to maintain. What also surprised him was that the Colonel seemed to have a pathological need to talk while running, which struck him as frankly weird – it was hard enough to breathe as it was without also having to make intelligent conversation.

 

"Why did you work so late last night when you knew you had to be up early this morning?" the Colonel said, and he wasn't even remotely out of breath – not even a hint of sweat on him. Rodney guessed that their current pace was barely a whisker above walking for him.

 

"There's - a - lot - to – be - done," he replied, between panting breaths. "QDD won't fix itself."

 

"Yeah, but you have Rodney Sheppard and all your team working on it, right?" the Colonel asked.

 

"You don't understand – there's weeks of work to be done," Rodney said, stopping for a moment to get his breath back, putting his hands on his knees as he panted. Sheppard circled him, still jogging, in a way that was incredibly annoying.

 

"You can't work at this pace for weeks," he said.

 

"I can." Rodney jutted out his jaw obstinately.

 

"You'll be a wreck."

 

"So?" Rodney shrugged.

 

"So...I'm just saying...Rodney Sheppard has more personally invested in this than you do because he wants to go home but I'm betting he wasn't there with you until one last night."

 

"No, in fact he's totally workshy," Rodney grumbled, ambling forwards again as Sheppard set off once more. "He never works later than seven."

 

"Do any of the rest of the team?" Sheppard asked. Rodney frowned.

 

"I haven't asked them to. I like working on my own anyway. Fewer people to get in the way."

 

"Maybe you should give yourself a break, Rodney," Sheppard said softly. "If Rodney Sheppard isn't pushing to get home early then why the hell should you work yourself into the ground? I know you feel guilty about bringing them here in the first place, but it won't help anyone if you keel over with exhaustion because of this."

 

"Your concern is touching, Colonel, but the hours I work really aren't any of your business," Rodney pointed out. "Now, if you don't mind, I need all my breath for this pointless waste of energy so perhaps you could shut up?"

 

They jogged to the practice room in silence, and when they arrived there Rodney flung himself down on a bench, feeling utterly exhausted. He glanced at his watch and was appalled to find it was only twenty past six. He couldn't believe he still had another forty minutes of this.

 

"Okay – a few stretches and then we'll start," the Colonel said, gesturing to Rodney to get up. "First of all, I'm going to teach you how to fall."

 

"That sounds very helpful," Rodney muttered. "I thought the whole point of this was that I learned how to fight?"

 

"Yeah, but I confidently predict that in learning how to fight you're going to be taking a hell of a lot of falls in the next few weeks," the Colonel told him, with a broad grin. "And I want to teach you how to fall properly – so you don't hurt yourself."

 

 

 

Rodney had the beginnings of a bad headache ten minutes later, after having been thrown onto the exercise mat more times than he could count. He was pretty sure that he was becoming good at falling though, and if faced by any hordes of hostile aliens he felt sure he would be able to impress them by his ability to throw himself to the ground.

 

"Great. You're doing well," Sheppard said, holding out a sweaty hand to pull him up for the umpteenth time. Rodney groaned, his body aching from all the unaccustomed exercise. "I think we can move on to something more interesting now."

 

He went over to the side of the room and returned with what Rodney always thought of as 'Teyla's sticks' although he was sure they had some technical term that he couldn't be bothered to retain in his memory. "Here." Sheppard tossed them to him and Rodney fumbled the catch, so they clattered onto the floor. Rodney stumbled after them, hating this whole thing. Really, it seemed to him, it was just a giant excuse to humiliate him, although he had to admit that Sheppard didn't seem to be taking any particular pleasure in his discomfort and had mainly been encouraging throughout.

 

Sheppard showed him a few moves that looked completely simple in slow motion but when he came to actually advance on the Colonel, somehow he found his hands and legs didn't move at the same pace and Sheppard thwacked him soundly on his arm and the back of his legs.

 

"Ow and ow," Rodney complained, glowering at him.

 

"Well concentrate then," Sheppard said, grinning back. "I know you can do better than that."

 

Rodney wasn't entirely sure why he was labouring under that delusion but he tried to be faster the next time around – with a fairly similar result.

 

"This really isn't as much fun for me as it is for you," he griped. Sheppard shook his head.

 

"It takes awhile to pick it up but you're doing well," he replied.

 

"So...I've been thinking about what you said earlier," Rodney said, trying to twirl one of the sticks and failing miserably. He caught it awkwardly before it spun off out of his reach entirely. "About spending an hour a day in my lab. You're obviously an intelligent man, Colonel - there's the whole MENSA thing apart from anything else – so why did you end up going into the military of all places? You could have done so much more with your life."

 

"Ouch." Sheppard pulled a face. "But no, this is good – you're trying to psyche me out, to distract me. I get it." He did a perfect flip with one of his sticks and grinned at Rodney again.

 

Rodney advanced on him determinedly, slightly annoyed that his ploy had been seen through so easily, but still fairly confident that he could distract the Colonel anyway. The other man had his hot buttons and Rodney was pretty sure he knew how to push them.

 

"I was a fighter pilot, Rodney," John told him, feinting to the left slightly. Rodney hopped back, out of reach. "Did you ever read the entry requirements for becoming a fighter pilot? They expect you to have top grades in every thing. You have to make dozens of fast mental calculations when you're flying at that level."

 

"Hmm. And yet, you could have taken those same qualifications and gone anywhere, done anything, made a real contribution to the field of human learning...instead of offering yourself up as canon fodder the entire time."

 

Rodney jumped forward, his stick raised high and managed to land a blow onto the Colonel's stick – which the other man easily deflected. They turned and faced off again.

 

"I wanted to fly," the Colonel told him. "Always have, always will. Everything else was worth the sacrifice."

 

"But you don't just have entry level qualifications, Colonel," Rodney persisted. "I've worked with you – you've even assisted me on some high level scientific projects and you're good. For a military man at least."

 

"Why thank you, Rodney." Sheppard feinted to the right and landed a blow on Rodney's stick but Rodney managed to deflect it just in time and hopped back again.

 

"Usually I find the military mind to be incredibly stupid," Rodney added, making another lunge forward. The Colonel sidestepped him easily and landed a tap on Rodney's ass. Rodney growled and turned, fast, sticks raised again. "I just think it's a waste, that's all," Rodney said. "Maybe you were afraid of failing in a more cerebral arena? Maybe you didn't want to put yourself to the test, Colonel."

 

"Maybe," Sheppard chuckled, but Rodney thought he might be getting to him. "One thing I was wondering – back in the puddle jumper, when you were out of it, you called me John. It struck me then, you always call me Colonel, or Sheppard – but you've never called me John, before or since," the Colonel said, circling him again. Rodney frowned. "You call Carson and Elizabeth by their first names but not me. Why is that?" Sheppard asked. Rodney shrugged, feeling uncomfortable.

 

"I've worked with the military for a long time, Colonel," he said, feeling the sweat trickle down the side of his face. "I know how obsessed you all are by your rank." Rodney brushed his arm angrily across his forehead to stop the sweat from dripping into his eyes. Sheppard, by comparison, still looked as fresh as a daisy.

 

"Not all of us," Sheppard replied, running forward and nearly knocking both Rodney's sticks out of his hands. Rodney turned just as Sheppard struck a glancing blow to his hip.

 

"That hurt! And yes, pretty much all of you. Take you, for example, and how annoyed you were when you found out that your counterpart in another universe outranked you. That really upset you."

 

Rodney lunged in wildly, was caught off balance, and only just managed to escape without being knocked to the floor. He took two hard swats to his ass as Sheppard passed him though.

 

"Word of advice, Rodney. Distraction is one thing – but pissing people off can be counter-productive," Sheppard growled.

 

"And you were ridiculously pleased when you got the promotion to Lieutenant-Colonel," Rodney continued, gathering himself up and moving forwards again, figuring that attack was the best method of defence. Their sticks clashed and then got tangled and they pushed against each other for several seconds. Rodney could feel the Colonel overwhelming him with his superior strength and experience and he went down on one knee, their sticks still locked.

 

"You're right. I liked the promotion," Sheppard said, in a soft, silky tone. "But I don't need to be reminded of it every minute of every day. Call me John."

 

"No," Rodney hissed, his other knee going so that he was now on both knees, his sticks still locked with Sheppard's, his arms shaking from the effort of trying to hold the other man back.

 

"Why not?" Sheppard asked, and his face was close – too close – and Rodney was reminded of that panther again, power barely leashed. Why not? Rodney didn't know why not, just that if he started calling the Colonel 'John' then he'd start thinking of him that way too, and if he started doing that...he wasn't sure how that would end. "It's just a name. It's just the same as how you address Elizabeth, and Carson, and Radek and just about everyone else. It doesn't mean anything," Sheppard said.

 

Rodney gave in, his arms dropping, and he slumped back on the floor, panting and covered in sweat, defeated. Sheppard loomed over him and held out a hand to help him up.

 

"That was good," he said, with a little grin. "You're learning, Rodney."

 

"Thank you," Rodney replied, taking the proffered hand and heaving himself to his feet. He paused for a moment, looking into Sheppard's hazel eyes which were gazing at him expectantly. "Colonel," Rodney added softly. Sheppard gave a barely perceptible sigh and Rodney turned away, glad the drill session was over.

 

He knew that he couldn't call Sheppard 'John' not because it didn't mean anything but precisely because it did.

 

 

 

Rodney's life didn't improve over the next couple of weeks. He found the drill sessions with Colonel Sheppard oddly disconcerting – he'd never yet found a way to defeat the other man with those damn sticks, and there was a permanent level of tension between them when they fought which Rodney found both exhilarating and exhausting. It wasn't even as if he disliked the man – he wished that he did – but the truth was that being with Colonel Sheppard, sniping with him, laughing at him and generally exchanging childish insults was fun and they both enjoyed it. All the same, he couldn't shake that feeling that the Colonel was like a panther, all tightly controlled power and as dangerous as any predator - and more and more he got the strange sensation that he was the Colonel's prey. It was an uncomfortable feeling, and yet weirdly exciting at the same time.

 

The drills were the least of his problems though – his main headache was his daily life in the lab. Rodney was used to being the Emperor of his own little kingdom during his working life. He ruled his lab with a mixture of irascibility and intellectual enthusiasm and he was used to his staff leaping around to accommodate his moods – only now there was two of him, and they were both used to being in charge in the lab, and neither of them wanted to give an inch.

 

Rodney found everything about his counterpart irritating – from the way he clicked his fingers when he was excited to his relationship with the General, but most of all he hated the way the other man had barged into his lab and tried to take over. And the worst part of it was that he got the distinct impression that all his staff liked the other Rodney much more than they liked him.

 

Rodney Sheppard giggled inanely at the most inopportune moments; he stopped everyone for a consolatory donut and coffee break when their work had gone spectacularly wrong, and he generally zoomed around the lab making friends and being nice to people when it wasn't remotely necessary. Rodney hated him. It wouldn't have been so bad if he'd been less intelligent than Rodney but he wasn't – he was on Rodney's exact same level and Rodney realised for the first time in his life just how much he relied upon his genius to make him feel special, in the absence of anything else in his life to feel special about. Now he wasn't even special any more because Rodney Sheppard could do what he could, understand the level of theoretical physics that he understood, and generally keep up with him effortlessly in arguments – which was never a good thing as far as Rodney was concerned.

 

After a couple of weeks enclosed in the confined space of the lab with him, Rodney was close to boiling point. He watched, sulkily, as his counterpart sauntered into the lab one morning, clapping his hands together and raring to go.

 

"Okay people – gather round. I've been thinking of a way to halve the recovery time on the crystals between imaging sessions," he announced. Rodney glared at him.

 

"Well that sounds good but perhaps you should run it past me first," he said. "In case it won't work."

 

"It'll work," his counterpart said loftily.

 

"And it might not and this is my lab so you ask first," Rodney snapped. His staff all shifted uneasily, clearly sensing yet another flare-up between the two men.

 

"Okay. If you want to waste an hour in pointless explanations then why not?" the other Rodney snapped back.

 

"Oh, I'm sorry, are we on the clock here?" Rodney raised an eyebrow. "If so, then perhaps you'd be more concerned about the fact that we've all been here for over an hour already while *you* just showed up."

 

"Well *I* was busy thinking this through in my quarters because *you* make it impossible to think at all in here."

 

"*We* could have thought it through together if you'd seen fit to bring it to me instead of just announcing it to everyone else first!" Rodney practically shouted.

 

"Uh, perhaps it is time for a coffee break?" Radek suggested meekly, positioning himself between the two men.

 

"Fine. Yes. Caffeine always solves everything," Rodney growled, returning to what he'd been doing before he'd been so irritatingly interrupted.

 

He watched, still glowering, as Radek brought his counterpart some coffee and they chatted easily together. That was another thing he hated about the other Rodney – Rodney had always thought of Radek as in some way his – his to generally boss around and exchange ideas with, and now Radek seemed to be spending most of his time with the other Rodney; it was as if he preferred him. Rodney didn't like that idea so he bent his head again and tried to ignore all these unfamiliar emotions. It was impossible to completely cut Rodney Sheppard's irritating voice out from his consciousness though. The man seemed to have made it his job to jump up and down on Rodney's nerves until he wasn't sure he could stand it any longer.

 

The day had got off to a bad start and things didn't get any better as the day wore on either as the two Rodneys continued to stoke each other up to boiling point - and by the evening, Rodney McKay was on the verge of hysteria. He watched Rodney Sheppard cosy up to ALL his team, one by one, during the course of the day, until he was at the end of his tether. Finally his doppelganger moved in on Miko, all guns in his charm offensive blazing, with the sole purpose, or so it seemed to Rodney, of turning all his staff against him.

 

"Hey, Miko," Rodney Sheppard said, buttonholing the sweet-natured Japanese scientist at her desk. "Are you still coming to dinner tomorrow evening?"

 

"Yes, sir," Miko bowed, nodding nervously at him. Rodney bristled – he'd never invited any of his staff to dinner and he really didn't think it was necessary.

 

"Great. We're having sashimi," his counterpart grinned.

 

"Sashimi? You know how to make sashimi?" Miko asked, in the breathy tone of pure wonder that she usually saved just for Rodney McKay. Rodney felt a wave of intense jealousy.

 

"Sure we do – you taught us," his counterpart grinned. "We're always hanging out together. You make us laugh - back in my universe we call you the Dragon Lady."

 

"What?" Miko's eyes were wide with surprise. "Dragon Lady? Why do you call me this?"

 

"Because of your reputation," Rodney Sheppard said, with a sly wink. Rodney found himself gripping his tools extra tightly to avoid throwing them somewhere. "Everyone thinks you're so polite and quiet but you've somehow managed to acquire three subs - which I think we'll agree is a little greedy - two sweet girls from the botany department and one of the military boys who likes to kiss your boots. Nobody knows how you keep them all in order but John says you rule them with a rod of iron."

 

Miko was blushing furiously, looking up at Rodney Sheppard through her eyelashes and giggling nervously, yet clearly utterly flattered and beguiled by him at the same time. Rodney McKay had finally had enough and he flung his tools down and marched across the room.

 

"Just...just shut up," he growled. "And do some goddamn work. You're always drinking coffee and being nice to people. It's disgusting!"

 

"You're just jealous because they like me more than they like you," Rodney Sheppard told him.

 

"They don't like you more than me – you're just a novelty factor," Rodney snapped at him. "With your collar and leash and endless obsession with weird sex."

 

"At least I'm actually having sex," the other Rodney snapped back. "You're always in a bad mood because you're permanently sexually frustrated."

 

"And *you* have to run whenever Daddy comes calling. 'Yes John, No John,'" he mimicked. "'Where do you want me, John?' You can't think for yourself, or feed yourself, or do anything by yourself."

 

"And I can think of one thing that you *have* to do by yourself," the other Rodney said, his eyes flashing angrily.

 

"Well at least I don't *belong* to anyone."

 

"Nobody would have you!"

 

"You are petty, arrogant, and a total...a total...loser!" Rodney yelled, searching for the worst insult he could find.

 

"Look in the mirror sometime!" his counterpart yelled back.

 

Rodney had had enough. If he stayed here he thought he might very well do something violent so he collected as much dignity as he could muster and stalked out of the lab. He wasn't entirely sure where he was going so he was as surprised as anyone when his footsteps took him to Colonel Sheppard's quarters. He ignored the door chime and hammered loudly on the door until the Colonel opened it, a bemused expression on his face.

 

"Rodney? What the hell is going on? Is there an emergency?" the Colonel asked.

 

"Yes there is – I'm on the verge of committing murder," Rodney said, pushing the Colonel aside and charging into his room.

 

"Let me guess - Rodney Sheppard," the Colonel sighed.

 

"He is...he is the most annoying man I've ever met."

 

"Yeah. I know." The Colonel gave a wry grin. Rodney glared at him.

 

"I am *not* that irritating!" he protested.

 

"No...you're not, but neither is he," Sheppard said sensibly. "He's just – you – and for some reason, you really don't like yourself that much."

 

"I...I..." Rodney didn't have an answer to that. He just stood there, gazing at the Colonel helplessly.

 

"You're looking really wound up. Come with me – I've got an idea for how we can handle this."

 

"Does it involve sending Rodney Sheppard on a one way trip through the Stargate?" Rodney asked hopefully.

 

"Nope – but it does involve making you feel better," Sheppard replied with a grin.

 

"Okay," Rodney sighed. "I guess I'll have to settle for that."

 

He half walked, half jogged down the hallway with the Colonel, gibbering away endlessly about his problems with his counterpart, completely high on his own nervous energy. The Colonel listened to him calmly, placing a soothing hand on his shoulder every now and again to guide him in the right direction, and then they finally ended up, much to Rodney's dismay, at the practice room.

 

"Oh you cannot be serious! I'm in no mood to get whacked around by those bloody sticks right now!" Rodney fumed.

 

"No sticks," Sheppard told him. "I have something else in mind."

 

"Like what?" Rodney asked suspiciously, hopping into the room after the other man.

 

"Hand to hand combat," Sheppard told him with a grin.

 

"And that's supposed to make me feel better how?" Rodney enquired.

 

"You'll see. It's just a hunch but somehow I think this will work. Now come here. Come on...come at me...use all that energy to throw me," the Colonel beckoned.

 

It was absurd, ridiculous...and yet, the way he was feeling right now, it made a strange kind of sense. Rodney didn't need telling twice. He threw himself bodily at the other man and tried to trip him onto the floor. The Colonel caught him easily, snuck a boot behind his leg, threw him onto the floor and then leapt on top of him and held him down by lying across his chest.

 

"Ow...get off..." Rodney panted, trying to free himself, but the Colonel wouldn't budge.

 

"Have to hold you for three seconds – unless you either tap my shoulder or say 'submit'," Sheppard told him. "Those are the rules."

 

"Yeah, like I'm ever going to say *that* to you," Rodney retorted.

 

"I'm happy to just stay here until you do," the Colonel said and then, for the first time, Rodney registered how all Sheppard's body weight was on him, pinning him onto the mat, and the other man's hazel eyes seemed very close. Sheppard's body was hard and muscular and Rodney could barely wriggle an inch beneath him. "One - two - three." Sheppard grinned, finally letting him up. Rodney glared up at him.

 

"Want to try again? Come on. You want to get your own back, don't you?" Sheppard taunted. "Just imagine I'm him. Come on..."

 

Rodney remembered that stupid curly hair and irritating giggle and the way Rodney Sheppard would finger that black leather collar of his dreamily sometimes, when he thought nobody was looking, and how somehow that annoyed Rodney more than anything else, and he got to his feet and threw himself at the Colonel. Sheppard was ready for him though, and he found himself cocooned in a vice-like grip, struggling to get free. "Harder," Sheppard said, his voice warm and tingly against Rodney's ear. "Come on...fight me – really fight me..." Rodney struggled even more, using every ounce of his strength, and managed to get himself free, then lunged at the Colonel again – and ended up flat on his back with Sheppard lying across his chest once more. He lay there, winded, feeling strangely exhilarated by the whole thing. Sheppard was so close that he could smell the other man's scent, and he had him pinned down so that he couldn't move, and, to be honest, suddenly Rodney wasn't so sure that he wanted to move.

 

~*~

 

Rodney Sheppard stormed back to his quarters after his argument with his counterpart feeling completely outraged. It didn't matter how much he tried, or how many good ideas he brought to their work, Rodney McKay absolutely refused to give him any kind of a break. The man picked arguments where there was no need, and Rodney didn't think he could stand it for much longer. He stormed into his room, threw his laptop down on the table, and kicked a nearby chair.

 

"Bad day?" a voice said sympathetically from the direction of the bed. Rodney turned, surprised; he hadn't expected John to be back yet. He and the Colonel had been over on the mainland all day and Rodney had assumed he'd be late home, but instead he was lying on the bed, gazing at Rodney with a quizzical expression on his face.

 

"Very bad day," Rodney growled. "I swear if I have to listen to that man trying to patronise me one more time then I might not be able to control myself." He kicked the chair again to illustrate the point. John grinned and sat up.

 

"Let me guess – Rodney McKay?" He raised an eyebrow.

 

"Who else? He's always sniping at me. Little comments here and there, all the time. Dig, dig, dig...mostly about my relationship with you and my sexual preferences...he's obsessed! And he seems to think he understands us when he doesn't – he gets it wrong. He makes it sound like what we have – what we do and what we enjoy – like it's bad or unnatural or something and that makes me furious and he knows that so he keeps on doing it until he gets a rise out of me."

 

"If you could just learn not to react then he might stop doing it," John said wisely, swinging his long legs over the side of the bed.

 

"I know, I know! And I *try*, I honestly do. He has a great team and I love working with them but it's just him I can't stand."

 

"I like him," John said, getting up and walking over to him. Rodney glowered at him.

 

"I have no idea why," he grumbled.

 

"Because he's kind of like you – and I *really* like you," John told him, grabbing his chin and bestowing a sweet kiss on his mouth. Rodney sighed and melted against him, trying to allow the kiss to calm him.

 

"You're back early," he said finally when John released him. "I thought you'd be late."

 

"Me too – but we got done earlier than we thought."

 

"Are we eating in the mess hall tonight or are you cooking?" Rodney asked, leaning against him.

 

"Mess hall. I'll be cooking tomorrow night because I believe we have guests."

 

"Oh – yeah. Miko." Rodney had forgotten about Miko. "It's weird. She's kind of like our Miko but also...just really timid. Our Miko has that whole cool toppy thing going on underneath the quiet exterior."

 

"Well, this Miko might be like that too – we'll just have to get to know her better," John said. "I invited Elizabeth over as well. Should be an interesting combination. I was thinking that next week we should invite Colonel Sheppard and Rodney McKay but I'm guessing that's not such a good idea?"

 

Rodney pulled back and gazed at him in abject horror. "There is no way I am spending a day in the lab with that man and then feeding him anything other than arsenic!" he growled, disengaging himself from his husband's arms. "He's a monster!" He could feel himself getting wound up again, and he spun around, fists clenching and unclenching.

 

"Uh oh. I sense another rant," John said, stepping back.

 

"It's just that he seems to resent me having any ideas or contributing in any way to our work in anything other than the most menial capacity. It's all 'Dr Sheppard – do you think you're able to hold my laptop while I get on with the very important and complicated work, or would that be too much for you?'" Rodney gave a growl of frustration and kicked the chair again, only narrowly missing his husband's leg as he did so.

 

"Okay – you need taking down," John said firmly. "And I think I know just the way to do it."

 

"Really?" Rodney gazed at him expectantly.

 

"Oh yeah. You see...I don't know about you but I've been missing some of the toys we have back home."

 

"Oh yes. Me too," Rodney sighed, thinking of their extensive collection of paddles, floggers, whips, clamps, chains, harnesses, gags, cuffs, butt plugs, dildos and other paraphernalia. They had the items that John wore clipped to his belt, but they were just the basics, and more for formal use than anything else, and Rodney longed for the more erotic items that they had in their closet back home.

 

"So...over the past few weeks, while you've been working in the lab...I've been making a few trips over to the mainland, doing some trading, offering up my services to help with anything the Athosians needed in return for them making me a few items...hell, I even made a couple myself," John grinned.

 

"What kind of items?" Rodney asked excitedly, barely able to restrain himself from hopping up and down.

 

"All kinds. Stand still and I'll show you." Rodney made a conscious effort to clamp down on the high levels of nervous energy currently coursing through his body. Only when he'd stood completely still for a couple of seconds did John nod and go over to their closet. He pulled out a wooden chest which was clearly quite heavy, carried it over to the table, and opened it. Rodney waited for permission to take a peek inside, desperately restraining himself from running straight over there to see what was in it. Finally John beckoned him over and he hopped to his husband's side and then stood there, utterly dumbfounded.

 

"Oh god," he said at last. "It's like it's my birthday or something."

 

John grinned. "Yeah. Let me show you everything, one by one – then I'm gonna take great pleasure in trying them all out on you."

 

He pulled out a flogger first and Rodney ran his fingers through it in awe. It was soft, its long tails made of some kind of furry animal hide, and Rodney ached to feel it caressing his shoulders. This was an item of serious pleasure. "This one is the good cop," John told him with a smile. "But this one..." He pulled out another flogger, and this one was made of thinly plaited rope and was a much more unforgiving implement. "This one is the bad cop," John said, a look of anticipation glittering in his hazel eyes.

 

Next John pulled out a sturdy wooden paddle.

 

"I made this myself," he said proudly, holding it up. Rodney fingered it, wondering what it would feel like on his ass. He suspected it would be loud and make a thwacking sound but it wouldn't hurt the way the strap did – John's strap was thick and hard and his husband only ever used it for punishment, not for pleasure.

 

"I'm impressed," Rodney said, grinning delightedly. "I never knew you could carve wood."

 

"Jinto taught me," John replied with a grin of his own. "He wasn't sure why I needed a paddle when I don't have any kids but I told him there would be a very deserving recipient."

 

Rodney giggled at that and pressed a kiss to the side of his husband's face.

 

A pair of butter-soft wrist and ankle cuffs were next out of the box. Rodney fingered them thoughtfully. "These are beautiful," he whispered.

 

"I know. It's the softest hide the Athosians have – only the best for you," John murmured, his lips moving over the skin of Rodney's neck as he spoke, making Rodney shiver.

 

"I also got these," John said, pulling out some items of clothing. Rodney sorted through them, his big fingers gently caressing a silk shirt in a dazzling shade of blue. "I thought it would match your eyes," John said. Rodney swallowed hard, feeling a lump rise in his throat. "And these..." John pulled out a pair of black pants that laced up rather than zipped, and some comfortable looking leather boots. "I know how much you hate the clothes that Dr McKay gave you. I thought you'd feel more like yourself in this outfit," John told him.

 

"I love you," Rodney told him, fingering the fabrics, loving the sensual feel of them. One of the things he'd found difficult about being in this universe was the lack of sensuality. He liked his clothes to whisper on his skin, to comfort him, restrict him, or caress him. He liked the way silk felt against his naked flesh, and the snug fit of his pants, the way they accentuated his ass for his husband to enjoy. Rodney McKay's clothes provided none of those sensory experiences and he'd missed them. Rodney turned to his husband and ran his fingers through John's dark hair, loving the feel of that too.

 

"Seriously - I love you," he said again, insistently, before pressing a deep, heartfelt kiss to his husband's lips. John's hands went around his waist and slid down the back of his pants.

 

"That's good," John murmured when the kiss ended. "Because I'm going to spend the next hour or so tormenting you by doing some very slow, very exotic things to your body. And by the time I'm done, you won't even remember who Dr McKay is because you'll be so boneless with pleasure. It wouldn't matter if he marched right in here and taunted you – you'd just smile and let it all wash over you."

 

Rodney stiffened under his husband's caress. "I'm not seeing that right now," he admitted. "But I'll take your word for it."

 

"Good...because I want you to submit to me now, Rodney. I'm going to take you down, and I want you to give everything up to me."

 

~*~

 

"Had enough yet?" Colonel John Sheppard asked, gazing at Rodney's red, sweaty face. The scientist shook his head, grimly. "Think you can beat me?" John taunted, grinning broadly. "Come on, Rodney – you're a big, solid guy, you've probably got a weight advantage on me. Use that."

 

Rodney gazed back at him, an intent look on his face, and then he lunged forwards again. John wrapped his arms around him, holding him back, but he was right – Rodney had a pair of broad shoulders on him and if he could learn how to use them to his advantage he could be a serious opponent. Unfortunately, he lacked a certain killer instinct, which had surprised John when he'd first got to know the scientist. In the beginning, he'd assumed Rodney's bite was as bad as his bark, but he'd soon come to realise that Rodney used words to keep people at bay, and while he might say one thing, he often did the complete opposite. When they'd first arrived on Atlantis, John had had Rodney pegged as a complete coward, but he'd soon been disabused of that notion and had since come to view Rodney as one of the bravest men he'd ever known. The scientist had saved a lot of lives, often putting himself at risk to do so - he might bitch and complain about the little things, but when it came to the really big things, John knew he could rely on Rodney completely. Not that he'd ever tell the scientist that of course – the other man's ego was a curious mixture of superiority and inferiority complexes and you had to be careful about which side of it you fed.

 

John turned Rodney in his arms, got a hold on the scientist's arm and pinioned it behind his back, then pulled him close, so that his back was against John's chest. Then John wrapped his free arm around Rodney's body, holding him tight.

 

"Now what?" John whispered in Rodney's ear. "What would you do if this happened offworld? If some badass alien had you like this? How would you escape?"

 

John could feel the warmth of Rodney's body pressed against his, could feel Rodney's breathing coming in gulps, could feel Rodney's hot cheek pressed against the side of his face. He wished he wasn't enjoying this quite so much but he couldn't help it. The General had told him that if he wanted Rodney he should just go for it, but John knew it wasn't as simple in his universe as it was in his counterpart's. For a start, Rodney had never given any indication that he would welcome his advances, so John had decided to take things very slowly. He'd sought out opportunities to spend time with the scientist, often dropping by his lab late at night for a chat while Rodney was working, or seeking him out in the mess hall. John was enjoying his one-sided courtship – and that's what it felt like to him - a courtship. Maybe that was a little old fashioned but in some ways John viewed himself as an old fashioned kind of guy. He didn't have any objection to playing a long game either. He'd just hang out with Rodney for long enough to see whether he had any chance at all with the scientist, or whether Rodney was completely and irrevocably straight. John thought that his tactics might be working as well – it was him, after all, who Rodney had come to this evening. He knew that if this had happened just a few weeks ago, Rodney would have gone back to his room to sulk or had a major explosive outburst that would have been heard all around the city. Now, though, he'd learned to trust John enough to at least cautiously sniff at his fingers, even if he was a long way from eating out of his hand yet.

 

John tightened his arm around Rodney's body, and tried not to become hard as he felt Rodney go still in his arms. He wasn't sure whether Rodney was responding to his own mood, somehow picking up, subconsciously, how best to react when John was overpowering him like this, but John loved it. It turned him on and gave him numerous jerking off fantasies to indulge in when he was alone. Right now he just wanted to push Rodney down, rip his clothes off, and slide his hard cock into the scientist's ass. He wanted to kiss those crooked lips and make Rodney moan and pant with need, but John knew that would have to wait until he had some sign from Rodney that this was what he wanted too.

 

They stood there for a long moment, Rodney limp in John's arms, until finally John whispered to him again.

 

"Giving up? Or just biding your time?"

 

An elbow in his ribs answered that question and he released his grip on Rodney, allowing him to escape, only to pull him back and throw him easily onto the floor. Rodney when down with a thump and John threw himself on top of him, holding those broad shoulders against the exercise mat with the weight of his body. He wanted to grab Rodney's arms, to hold them above his head and lower his head and force Rodney's mouth open with his lips but instead he kept himself tightly controlled, just enjoying the sensation of Rodney's warm body under his own. Rodney struggled, but John held him fast.

 

"You could always just say the word – if I'm hurting you," Colonel Sheppard said, gazing down on Rodney with a grin.

 

"You're not hurting me...you're just irritating me," Rodney replied. He'd been growing steadily quieter the longer their session continued as he came down from the agitated state he'd been in when he'd first knocked on John's door.

 

"Just one word...then I'll let you up sooner," John said silkily, loving the way Rodney's blue eyes were flashing at him.

 

"Not gonna say it," Rodney panted.

 

"We'll see." John reluctantly loosened his grip and allowed Rodney up.

 

~*~

 

"On your knees," General John Sheppard told his husband, in a low, sibilant tone. Rodney dropped immediately to his knees, gazing up at him with those bright blue eyes of his, with an expression of total trust. "Shirt first." John slipped his fingers under Rodney's uniform shirt and then slowly slid it up his husband's body, revealing Rodney's naked chest.

 

"Hands behind your back," John ordered and Rodney obeyed immediately again. John fastened the new cuffs to Rodney's wrists, and then clipped them together behind his back. "Mmm, looks good," he whispered into Rodney's ear, as he ran a fingernail down Rodney's bare back. Rodney shivered and John smiled to himself. He loved doing this to his husband – he'd never had a submissive as satisfying to play with as Rodney. Rodney could be completely hyper, full of high octane nervous energy, but John knew how to bring him down, gradually, slowly, finally quieting that endlessly chatting mouth and stilling the overactive brain, reducing Rodney to a mass of sheer physical sensation. It was so incredibly fulfilling to John as a top, and he relished it. In fact, it was making him hard just thinking about it and he decided to deal with that first so that he could really enjoy working on Rodney for the next hour or so without his own sexual urgency getting in the way – and by the time he was done he was pretty sure that he'd be ready to come all over again – this time in Rodney's plump ass.

 

John stroked his fingers over Rodney's torso, gently, softly, just ghosting over the surface of the bare skin with his fingernails, seeing goosebumps rise on Rodney's flesh. He circled him, stroking him the entire time, and he could see that it was all Rodney could do to keep still. Finally, John ended up in front of his husband once more. He undid his fly and released his aching cock, then took hold of Rodney's face in his hands.

 

"I'm going to use your mouth," he whispered, in that same low, dark tone that he saved for their most erotic encounters. "I don't want you to move. I want you to kneel there, and take me."

 

This was the first step in getting Rodney to forget all the anxieties and irritations of the day and surrender himself to John's will. It might take awhile for them to get there, but after a couple of years together Rodney was pretty well trained by now - and John knew how best to get the response he wanted. He caressed Rodney's ears for a second, and then slid his hand around and grabbed the hair on the back of his husband's head. He jerked Rodney's head back and his husband opened his mouth automatically. John took advantage of that to slide his hard cock between Rodney's lips, not loosening his hold on Rodney's hair as he did so. John let out a sigh as he slid his cock deeper into Rodney's open mouth, savouring the warmth of Rodney's tongue on his hard length.

 

"That's good," he whispered. "I'm going to go deep – relax your throat." Rodney was pretty good at deep throating him but it was easier for him to do that when he was moving his head down on John's cock – now John had him immobile and it was much harder to suppress the gag reflex in those circumstances. Rodney's eyes widened and John could see he was struggling with it, but making him submit to what John wanted was one way they both got off so John wasn't about to let him get away without trying. He could feel Rodney gulping, swallowing convulsively, and he used his free hand to stroke the side of his husband's face, relaxing and calming him. Rodney responded immediately, making a visible effort to accommodate John's cock, and then John was sliding in further, deep into Rodney's throat. He slid in and out for a long time, loving the way his cock disappeared so far inside Rodney's mouth. His balls slapped against Rodney's chin with every inward thrust and it felt so good. Finally, he backed up a little. "I'm going to fuck your mouth hard now," he told Rodney, in a very low voice, barely above a whisper. "I want you to take it. Just kneel there and worship my cock, Rodney." Rodney gave a little moan and John grinned, seeing by the tenting of Rodney's pants just how turned on he was by this. He released his grip on Rodney's hair, grabbed the sides of his husband's face, and then sank himself into Rodney's mouth again, fast and hard, as he'd promised. His hips were moving like a piston now, in and out, just one shade short of brutal, and Rodney was struggling to stay in position under the onslaught with his hands tied behind his back. Only the pressure of John's hands on the sides of his face was keeping him steady. John bucked into him over and over again, loving the expression in Rodney's blue eyes, loving the way he was offering himself up to his top, surrendering himself to John's demands. Then John felt himself coming, and he held Rodney's face in a firm grip and ejaculated down his throat. Finally he came to a halt, his fingers stroking Rodney's hair gently. He stood there for a long moment, enjoying the way his softening cock felt, still lying against Rodney's tongue, and the little panting movements of Rodney's breathing around the sensitive organ. Eventually he withdrew and tucked his cock away again in his pants. Rodney knelt there, a dreamy expression in his eyes.

 

"Up," John said, helping Rodney to his feet. He undid his husband's pants and then removed the rest of his clothes until he was standing there completely naked. Then John circled around him again, drinking in the sight of him. He loved Rodney's body and even though it was completely familiar to him he still couldn't get enough of it. John trailed a finger over his husband's broad shoulders, revelling in their strong shape. Rodney's body wasn't hard and lean like his own, but it was nicely toned, and his biceps bulged just the right amount. John pressed his lips against Rodney's shoulders and kissed them. "I'm going to flog you here later," he whispered. "Nice and long and hard, until these shoulders are red."

 

Rodney didn't reply. He just stood there, shivering again. John grinned, loving how responsive Rodney was to everything he said to him as well as everything he did. He undid the clip holding Rodney's cuffs together and allowed his hands to go free.

 

"I made the most of my free time earlier to make some modifications to the room," John said. "Just some hooks in the right places." Rodney glanced up and caught sight of the hooks John had fastened to the ceiling and walls, and he made a little moaning sound. "I want you spreadeagled – I'll fasten you to the hooks above and those set in the floor." John nodded downwards. "Then I'm going to spend a long time playing with you," he promised. Rodney swallowed, hard, his blue eyes wide with a combination of anticipation, fear and arousal. John loved that look. "Ssh," he whispered, running a finger over Rodney's skin again. "Surrender to me, Rodney. Give it up to me. You can't stop me anyway. It's going to happen whether you fight it or not, so give it up and let me do what I want to you."

 

Rodney sighed, as if a huge weight had been lifted from him and his body was already starting to look less tense. John grinned and began fastening the chains from the wooden chest to the hooks in the ceiling. When he was done, he turned back to Rodney, bearing a plain black blindfold. He bound it tightly around his husband's eyes so that Rodney wouldn't be able to see anything. "You don't get to be in control," John told him. "You don't get to see anything I'm going to do to you. You just have to accept it. That's all." Rodney was trembling in earnest now and John grinned, loving the way the power was flowing between them, back and forth, being surrendered and being taken, turning them both on. "Now the gag," John said, knowing how much Rodney hated not being able to talk or scream. Rodney stiffened. "I don't want you to even think about talking. In fact I don't want you to think at all. I just want you to feel every single thing I'm going to do to you. I want you to concentrate on that and nothing else."

 

Rodney nodded, his lips trembling slightly. John pushed the leather gag between those lips, and buckled it behind his head, and then he placed a little kiss on each of Rodney's cheeks, running his hands up and down Rodney's body as he did so, until some of the trembling subsided. Finally, John took hold of Rodney's wrists and tied him to the chains above them. Then he knelt down, fastened a cuff on each of Rodney's ankles, and chained him to the hooks in the floor. Rodney was now completely spreadeagled – legs wide apart, arms stretched equally wide above him, naked, blindfolded and gagged. John sighed.

 

"Oh that's a good sight," he whispered, stroking Rodney's bare ass with his hands, holding it and squeezing it affectionately. He stood back for a moment, just gazing at Rodney, drinking in the sight of him, bound like this, waiting for his attentions. It turned him on so much that he could feel his cock hardening again, despite the fact that he'd so recently come. It wasn't urgent yet though – he had time to play with Rodney for a good long while before he needed to slide into that ass and claim him again. Rodney was tense beneath his gaze, and John shook his head. Rodney was trying to second guess him, his brain working at top speed as he wondered what John would do to him first, and John wanted to stop that. He wanted Rodney to submit, to stop thinking and just accept.

 

~*~

 

Rodney McKay stood in the practice room, his breathing coming in heavy pants.

 

"Had enough yet?" Colonel Sheppard taunted.

 

Rodney shook his head grimly, wondering what the hell was wrong with him – usually he couldn't get out of the practice room quick enough but not today. Not right now. Right now he only wanted to hurl himself on the Colonel, to wrestle him to the floor and take him down. He wasn't sure why, or how, but on some level this was working. He could feel himself becoming quieter and calmer by the second. He'd almost forgotten why he'd been so uptight earlier - he wasn't sure why being thrown around and generally sat on by Colonel Sheppard was helping his mood but somehow it was. He could feel the blood zinging around his body and he had a sensation that he almost never had. It took him a moment to identify it and then he realised that he was simply glad to be alive. This – this was somehow good. He didn't understand it and he knew that intellectually it made no sense at all, but he couldn't deny how his body was feeling right now. And then there was Colonel Sheppard, standing right in front of him with that endless bloody grin on his face, always besting him, forever just a step out of reach, or able to turn Rodney's most adept lunges into an opportunity to throw the scientist down on the floor. It was...annoying, and yet oddly addictive at the same time.

 

Rodney caught his breath, and then began circling the Colonel again. The other man moved as well, lithe and graceful as a panther, and Rodney knew he couldn't match him in that. He didn't have Sheppard's speed or his hand-eye co-ordination but Sheppard was right – he did have upper body strength. He just had to find a way to use it to his best advantage. It would feel so good to trap Sheppard beneath him, the way the Colonel had been doing to him for the past hour or so. He'd like that. He'd like to be the one holding the Colonel down, being victorious over him. In fact, he'd like it so much that he wasn't sure he could give up until it happened, even if they had to stay here all night. Maybe it wasn't the Colonel he wanted to beat, a small voice inside told him, maybe he was just transferring all his competitive feelings towards Rodney Sheppard onto the Colonel, but Rodney didn't much care one way or another right now. He moved in, feinted to the left, and then caught the Colonel by surprise, lunging at him. He managed to get a firm hold on Sheppard's waist, and used all the power in his shoulders to throw the Colonel down onto the mat. Then with a triumphant growl he threw himself on top of him...only to land with a bump on the exercise mat as the Colonel twisted away from under him, and then threw himself on top of Rodney, holding him fast.

 

"No!" Rodney roared.

 

"That was good. You did all the hard work for me there," the Colonel said, that dark hair of his flopping over one hazel eye.

 

"Damnit..." Rodney struggled with all his might and managed to get one arm free but Sheppard just grabbed the freed arm and thumped it onto the mat above Rodney's head. Rodney got his other arm free but Sheppard just did the same with that. Now he was kneeling on Rodney's body, both his hands tight around Rodney's wrists, holding his arms above his head, holding him down. Rodney wriggled and writhed but he was held fast. All he could see were Sheppard's amused hazel eyes and he could smell the other man's sweat; it was all so incredibly raw and basic. Rodney struggled again, giving it everything he could and then, finally he slumped back, feeling exhausted.

 

"Submit?" Sheppard asked, his white teeth seeming very close to Rodney's face. Rodney shook his head mutely. The Colonel's expression changed, and he slammed Rodney's hands down above his head again. "Got you, Rodney," he hissed. "You're not going anywhere until you say it."

 

Suddenly the Colonel's hazel eyes didn't look so amused any more – they looked dangerous, as if he could kill Rodney without even thinking about it. Just slip a hand around his neck and squeeze, or bite down hard on his jugular with his teeth...Rodney gazed up at him for a long time, lost in the moment. He felt tired – and all those emotions he'd been feeling about his counterpart seemed to have disappeared. His shoulders felt loose and open – free of the tension that had been in them earlier. He felt...good. In fact, he didn't think he'd ever felt so good before in his life. What did it matter if he said the word? John – Sheppard - had done what he'd promised he would; he'd made Rodney feel better. Besides, Rodney had the feeling that unless he said the word Sheppard wouldn't release him this time. There was just something about the other man's expression that made him shiver. He could well imagine that they'd just stay here all night, until he said it, before Sheppard would let him go.

 

Rodney surrendered to the inevitable, allowing his muscles to relax, losing all fight in his body.

 

"Submit," he said softly.

---

 

Part Eight: Sensory Deprivation

 

 

Rodney Sheppard's mouth felt dry as he hung there, naked, exposed and vulnerable. He wondered what John would do to him next and trembled.

 

"Ssh...you have to stop thinking," his husband said, somewhere by his left side, stroking his trembling body calmingly. "Now, first things first...cock ring." Rodney felt the cold, unforgiving steel of the ring slide onto his semi-erect cock. "You know the rules – you'll keep nice and hard for me," John said, massaging Rodney's cock into a state of full erection, so that it was straining against the ring. "Nice and hard throughout or I'll punish you," John warned, his finger sliding up and down the underside of Rodney's cock, making it harden still further. "But of course you'll only come on my command," John told him. Rodney sighed, knowing that was inevitable. "And I might not let you come at all," John warned. "If you don't submit to me, if you don't fully and freely offer yourself up, then there's no way in hell you'll come today, Rodney. And of course, if you do submit then you won't mind whether you come or not – it'll be my decision and you'll accept that."

 

Rodney felt a warm mouth close suddenly and unexpectedly on his left nipple and he let out a startled cry that was muffled by the gag. Rodney hated being gagged. It stifled all his natural responses – he was such a verbal man that it felt like he'd been stripped of his last defence, and John knew that all too well which was presumably why he liked to gag him. Rodney relaxed into the warm caress on his nipple as John sucked down hard on it. He loved nipple play, and could take quite a lot of rough treatment on his nipples before it got too much for him. John's hands and mouth seemed to be simultaneously everywhere as he stroked, caressed and sucked Rodney's body, trailing a line of hot kisses down over his belly, and then up to his right nipple, before sucking down hard on that too. Rodney tensed and then relaxed again. He tried to remember that he was offering himself up to his husband, and that John could do what he liked to him and his cock ached at that thought. He belonged to John, and if John wanted to suck him, or bite him, or flog him then he could. Rodney just had to surrender, to allow it to happen, to stop trying to second guess what John would do next.

 

There was silence for a moment, and John moved away. Rodney longed to feel those warm lips on his body again and missed his touch. Then he let out a shriek that was once again lost in the gag, as something freezing descended on his ass. Where the hell had John been hiding ice cubes? Rodney jack-knifed into his bonds, completely pointlessly, as John slid the ice cube over his buttocks and then dipped it deep into his anus and left it there, cooling his hot flesh. Rodney wanted to shout out a protest, to make some cutting remark, but he couldn’t speak, and he bounced against his bonds in annoyance, which only earned a wry chuckle from John's general direction.

 

"Now, now, temper, temper, Rodney," he said. Rodney let out a very muffled curse and was rewarded with a hard slap to one of his butt cheeks. "You're mine, remember, Rodney. I can do what I like to you," John reminded him. Rodney fought it for a moment, and then hung his head down between his shoulders, with a sigh. "Good boy," John murmured, and Rodney could feel his hands caressing his body again. Then he jack-knifed once more as two cold ice cubes landed, one on each of his nipples. John held them there for what felt like an eternity and Rodney was so tightly shackled that he couldn't get away from the freezing torment. "Ssh, take it...there's a good boy, Rodney," John was saying, kissing his collarbones as he held those cubes against Rodney's warm flesh, freezing his nipples into hard points. "Good...good," John said, and one of the ice cubes disappeared to be replaced by John's warm mouth. The change in sensation was so sudden and so acute that Rodney cried out around the gag again. The same thing happened to the other nipple and Rodney was screaming now, jerking pointlessly in his bonds. He could still feel the other ice cube, lodged deep in his ass, melting cool water out of his body.

 

John continued the ice torture for several long minutes, alternating the cold and hot until Rodney didn't think he could bear it any more...and then, suddenly, it was over. John squeezed the abused nubs of flesh between his fingers and they were now so sensitised that Rodney squirmed.

 

"Are you still resisting me, Rodney?" John asked in a dangerous voice. Rodney shook his head frantically. "I think you are. You tried to flinch away from me just then," John told him. "It's a shame – I thought these," he squeezed Rodney's nipples hard, making Rodney throw his head back, sweat trickling down the side of his face, "had been tortured enough, but now I think we need to punish them some more."

 

Rodney shook his head frantically again, sure that he couldn't take any more play on the abused nubs of flesh but next thing he knew there was a clicking sound and then felt the head of John's nipple clamps tighten around his right nipple. He knew these clamps very well – they had been on the belt Carson had given his husband on his wedding day and they were adjustable so John could use them to suit the circumstances. John rarely used anything other than his strap for punishment but on one or two occasions, when Rodney had really screwed up, he had used the clamps on their tightest setting, and Rodney had learned to have a healthy respect for the damn things as a result. Rodney tensed as he heard John tighten the little wheel on the side of the clamp and gradually it started to tighten around his nipple. He gave a little cry as the tightening continued, pinching the nipple hard...and then, thank god, it stopped. Rodney knew, logically, that this was nowhere near the most severe setting, but it felt bad enough. He tensed again as John fastened the other clamp onto his left nipple and began tightening that too. They hurt on his sensitised skin, and yet he was aroused too. He loved it when John tortured his nipples, good and long and hard, and he knew that he'd have been disappointed, on some level, if John had stopped after the ice cube torment, even though he also knew that right now he desperately wanted the torture to stop, and for John to leave his poor nipples alone.

 

"That's good," John said silkily, his voice sounding somewhere near his left ear. "You look good now, Rodney. All tied and clamped." Rodney sighed, allowing himself to relax into his bonds. His arms were starting to ache, but he knew he had to endure a lot more before John would free him. "I like how good you look like this," John said throatily, and now his wet, warm mouth was sliding down Rodney's back, kissing a path down his spine and ending up on his ass. He took hold of Rodney's butt cheeks and Rodney gasped as he felt John's tongue dip inside his anus. It felt strange, to have that cold ice cube and John's warm tongue inside him at the same time and he struggled with it for a moment, and then just surrendered himself. It felt so good – and the more John worked his tongue inside his body the nicer it felt. Rodney sighed, and felt his shoulders begin to loosen as he hung in his bonds. John rimmed him for a good long time, which felt fantastic but also meant that Rodney was more and more aware of the ache in his cock and how badly he wanted to relieve it. John had told him he might not get to come at all tonight – which would be cruel, but Rodney knew that it was by no means certain. Sometimes John wouldn't allow him to come, even when he'd submitted totally to his husband's will. It was just another way in which John reinforced the fact that Rodney belonged to him and even though at the time of being denied orgasm Rodney hated it, he had to admit that there was something about the way John exercised this control over him that appealed to him mentally and kept their relationship fresh and unpredictable.

 

Finally John released his hold on Rodney's buttocks.

 

"Now I'm going to undress," he said. "You'll have to take my word for that Rodney seeing as you're blindfolded." Rodney sighed around the gag, wishing he could watch as his husband undressed, seeing the image in his mind's eye, of John sliding out of his clothes, revealing that hard, toned body that Rodney loved so much. "I'm taking my pants off now," John told him, amid a sound of rustling. "Mmm, my cock is hard again, Rodney. I'd like to take you right now, I'd like to fuck your plump ass while you're all tied up like that and you wouldn't be able to do a thing to stop me," John purred. Rodney champed around his gag, because he could think of a hundred things he wanted to say in answer to that and the fact that he couldn't say any of them was driving him insane. "But I can wait. There's some more I want to do to you yet, boy," John hissed. "Okay, I'm done now but you can't touch me. Not yet." For one brief moment John pressed himself against Rodney's body and Rodney could feel the long lines of his husband's naked body and the hardness of his large cock as it poked against Rodney's thigh, but a moment was all John allowed him, and then he pulled back and Rodney groaned in frustration. "Not yet," John teased. "You'll have to wait for that. Now...how are these doing?" he said, and he took hold of both the nipple clamps and twisted. Rodney cried out, bucking against John's body, but John kept hold of him, twisting for a long time, while Rodney screamed into the gag. Then it was over, and John was soothing him with little kisses on his cheeks and chest.

 

"Hush, it's okay...hush," John whispered and Rodney moaned and pressed against his husband longingly, seeking out his naked flesh, wanting to be close to him. "Mmmm, your cock isn't as hard as it should be," John told him, sliding his finger along it. Rodney felt it harden again immediately. "Too late," John hissed. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to punish you, Rodney."

 

Rodney bowed his head, trembling slightly but accepting the idea that he'd be punished. He didn't want to struggle any more. There was silence for a moment, and then a whooshing sound and then Rodney felt the paddle impact on his buttocks. He loved the loud, thwapping sound it made, and loved even more the fact that John had made this implement himself, with his own hands. He could just imagine John bending over the wood, a thoughtful expression on his face, his tongue protruding slightly between his lips the way it did when he was concentrating hard. The paddle thwapped back down again – it stung but it was a nice sting. The paddle John had made was a light, thin implement, so it didn't pack a lot of weight when it hit home. It was nothing like the strap, which hurt, plain and simple – the paddle just warmed up his ass nicely.

 

John went slowly, pausing every now and then to rub a hand over Rodney's increasingly hot ass. "Feels good, Rodney. I wish you could see it – it's looking pretty red now," John told him. Rodney sighed and loosened up his shoulders another notch. He loved it when John toyed with him like this, telling him how he looked and what was happening to him. It turned him on even more and he felt his cock straining harder against the cock ring. After several minutes, John stopped paddling him, and then Rodney felt warm kisses land on his buttocks, followed swiftly by an equally warm tongue.

 

"Hmmm, you need cooling down," John told him and next thing he knew some more of those ice cubes were being pressed against his burning ass. Rodney sighed – this felt good. John cooled his buttocks down for a little while and then he moved away again. Rodney didn't even tense this time. He didn't know what was coming next but there was nothing he could do about it anyway – he could only accept whatever it was his husband wanted to do to him.

 

A few seconds later he felt a soft whumph on his shoulders and sighed deeply around his gag, relaxing even more. This was the new flogger, and it was beautiful. John used it to caress his back and shoulders for what felt like hours and Rodney started to drift off. This was beautiful – so sensuous. Rodney was so relaxed that it came as a shock when the implement changed, and something much harder and more scratchy landed on his shoulders. He recognised the plait of rope that he'd seen in the chest and gave a little sob. This was a flogger with much more bite to it. John increased the tempo and Rodney could feel his shoulders start to warm and he began to moan, stirring in his bonds.

 

"Take it, Rodney," John told him. "Take it for me." He continued flogging Rodney relentlessly, until Rodney was grunting hard with each stroke. The flogger covered every square inch of his back and buttocks, not letting up for a second, and now Rodney was crying out loud around his gag, begging and pleading with John for it to stop, knowing that the sound was incoherent and made no sense...and then, suddenly, it did stop. A lubed finger slid into his ass and removed the remnants of the ice cube and then another lubed finger was inside him. "I'm going to take you, Rodney, in a minute," John told him, his voice sounding right below Rodney's left ear. "I'm going to let you down and then tie you up again, on the bed. I'm going to tie you tight, and then I'm going to fuck this little asshole." His fingers wriggled as he said that and Rodney moaned with pleasure, longing to feel John's hard cock inside him.

 

A few seconds later the fingers were removed, and he felt himself being lifted and unclipped from the chains. He dropped into John's arms and his husband held him up, stroking and kissing him, but his respite was brief. John half led, half carried him across the room, still blind folded and guided him onto the bed. He put Rodney in a kneeling position and tied his ankles to the corners of the bed, fastening them wide apart. Then he placed what felt like pillows under Rodney's belly and chest and pushed him forwards onto them. Finally he took hold of Rodney's hands and tied them behind his back. Rodney angled his head sideways so he could breathe. He felt so exposed like this, his legs stretching his asshole wide open, and he loved that this was how John must be seeing him – naked and utterly wanton, open and ready for him to enter.

 

A hand slapped his ass again, several times, and then Rodney felt the bed give and he guessed John had knelt on it behind him. His buttocks were seized and he felt the tip of John's cock slide into him. Rodney's own cock was hard as a rock but he knew he'd have to hold on and he genuinely had no idea whether John would let him come or not. John pushed himself inside Rodney's ass slowly, up to the hilt, and Rodney felt completely helpless to do anything other than accept the intrusion - being tied up, being blindfolded and gagged, made him acutely aware of the feel of John inside his body, of that long, blunt cock claiming him, inching its way inside him. There was nothing else except his asshole, and John within him, reminding him who he was and who he belonged to. Now Rodney knew that John was right – he didn't care any more whether he came or not, as long as his husband was satisfied. John gripped his buttocks tightly and then began to pound into him with slow, leisurely thrusts. Rodney groaned, his prostate sending messages of molten pleasure to his brain. John's hands slid under his body and he rested them on Rodney's clamped nipples. "When I remove these, then you can come," he said. "But if you don't come then, you won't get to come at all."

 

It was a fiendish thing to say. It was precisely when the clamps came off that they hurt most, and Rodney often lost his erection when that happened. Still, that was what his husband had said, and that was what would happen. Either he'd come then, or he would go without this evening. Rodney accepted that.

 

John continued to thrust into him, lazily, taking his time.

 

"Are you enjoying this, Rodney?" he murmured, hands caressing Rodney's back and ass as he rode him. "Because I am. I love seeing you like this...your ass is nice and red and warm..." he grunted in pleasure with each inward thrust. "Nice plump ass...all helpless and open...just sitting here, begging to be fucked." Rodney groaned around his gag, wanting to come, knowing he could come right now, if only John would give him permission. "I love your ass, Rodney...and this tight little hole that you save just for me..." John was saying, and he knew how much it turned Rodney on when he talked to him like this. Rodney felt his entire body go into a spasm of need, and he wished he could beg John for permission to come but the gag was firm around his mouth and all he could do was accept his submission, and take John's beautiful hard cock into his compliant body and worship it the only way that was available to him right now.

 

"I'm close, Rodney. When I come I'm going to take those clamps off you so you'd better be ready..." John warned him. Rodney knew he was ready right now...but he also knew that once the pain kicked in then it might be too late. He had to stay in the moment, stay focused.

 

"Such a tight little asshole, squeezing me. I love that you can't move, Rodney. You can't wriggle or squirm or do anything except tighten this little hole around my hard cock. I love that," John growled and Rodney whimpered into his gag, barely able to hold on. "You look good when you're tied up, when you're helpless," John added. "When you've been flogged and spanked, when you've submitted to me and given it all up to me...it's such a turn on." It was a turn on for Rodney too, and he was relieved when he felt John speed up inside him, heard his grunts become more pronounced, and then John was gasping out loud and Rodney knew he was coming. He seemed to take forever, his hands gripping Rodney's thighs hard as he came deep inside him, and Rodney opened up even more, loving the fact that John was leaving his warm come so deep within him. Then there was a moment of silence, followed, a split second later, by a fumble of fingers on his chest, and then the pinching torment in his nipples faded and Rodney tried to make the most of his window of opportunity...but it was already too late. The pain crashed in, the way it always did when his nipples had been released from their cruel prison, and he lost the moment and gave himself up instead to the rolling waves of sensation currently assaulting his sore chest. When that had finally subsided, he realised he'd failed and he sighed into his pillow.

 

John was undoing his bonds, stroking him gently as he did so. He unbuckled Rodney's gag, then untied his blindfold and rolled him over and Rodney blinked in the dimly lit room. John had ensured the lights were turned down low so as not to assault his eyes, and Rodney slowly adjusted to visual stimulus, gazing around blearily. The first thing he saw was John, looming over him, dark hair sweaty and flopping into his eyes.

 

"How are you doing?" John asked him, smoothing Rodney's own sweaty hair away from his face, and planting a kiss on his lips.

 

"Mmmm," Rodney replied, lying on the bed in a completely relaxed state, incapable of coherent thought. John grinned and picked up one of his wrists and massaged it between his fingers, then repeated the massage with his other wrist. Rodney just lay there and let him work, completely out of it. John moved his hand down further, and slid the cock ring off Rodney's penis.

 

"So, you didn't manage to come, huh?" John asked, a little grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, as he played with Rodney's cock.

 

"Mmmm?" Rodney blinked, trying to figure out what the question was and then shook his head weakly. "No...doesn't matter though." He smiled up at his husband adoringly. "You're right...doesn't matter at all as long as I can please you."

 

Rodney was surprised by the look of intense love that flared in John's eyes as he said that. Then his husband bent his head and captured Rodney's lips with his own and kissed him with all his heart. Rodney moaned and opened up – the one problem with wearing a gag was that he had missed the kisses that John usually gave him during sex. This one more than made up for that though – it was searing and passionate yet oddly tender too, and John wrapped his hand gently in Rodney's hair and held him down while he devoured his lips. Then he drew back and smiled down on him.

 

"You were so good...I love it when you give yourself up to me like that. It's such a turn on," he whispered. "Now...I have an idea...how are these?" He ran his fingertips lightly over Rodney's abused nipples and Rodney hissed and jerked up immediately. "Pretty sore huh?" John said. Rodney gave a little whimper of agreement. "Okay..." John glanced at the clock. "I'll play with them for five minutes. Now, you can push me away if you want – I give you permission – and if you push me away or tell me to stop then I will. But if you don't, if you let me play for the full five minutes, then I'll let you come."

 

Rodney gazed at him blearily. His cock was semi-erect again just from that deep kiss, and the feeling of John's skin against his as they lay on the bed. "Okay," he whispered. In truth, his permission didn't really matter – and John was being kind. If he wanted, he could play with Rodney's sore nipples all night and Rodney didn't have the right to stop him, but in reality John didn't force him down that kind of path too often, although he did occasionally, just to remind Rodney who was in charge and who he belonged to.

 

John grinned at him, kissed him on the mouth again, and then dipped his head down to take one of Rodney's nipples between his lips. Rodney jerked at once at the soft caress, and John glanced up.

 

"You have to stay still, or I'll stop," he said. "I need you to surrender – to let me do what I want even though it's hard and it hurts."

 

Rodney nodded, gazing at his husband in wonderment at how fiendish and brilliant a top he was. John smiled at him and then lowered his head again and took the other nipple gently between his lips. He teased it for a long time, sending sparks of pure red-hot pain through the abused piece of flesh. He wasn't even sucking very hard, but Rodney's nipples were so incredibly sensitised right now that it didn't take much to make them feel like they were on fire. He moaned, softly, but didn't move, and allowed John to suck. Then John moved back to the other one, and took it carefully between his teeth and pulled back on it just a little, squeezing the tip. Rodney gave a whimper of pure pain but he still didn't move. He knew he could – that John would stop if he told him to, and he knew the price of that would be giving up on an orgasm this evening, but that wasn't what was motivating him. Some part of him simply wanted to surrender to John – he loved surrendering to his husband, even when it was hard – no, *especially* when it was hard because that was when it was sweetest and when it gave his submission the most meaning.

 

John's fingers were now caressing his other nipple, gently stroking it, making Rodney shiver, and then his grip tightened and Rodney started to pant, moaning loudly as the nipple was squeezed beyond what he thought he could endure, but still he didn't protest, or move away. It took every single ounce of his determination but Rodney was an extremely obstinate man when he set his mind to it, and he wanted his husband to know just how devoted he was in his submission. John released his bite and smiled at Rodney lovingly, and Rodney knew his husband understood the place he was in in his head right now. In fact, he thought that John was in a similar place in his own head, only while Rodney was concentrating on submission, John was in an incredibly toppy place right now, completely on fire with his own sense of domination. Rodney's submission wouldn't be sweet if John didn't make it mean something, if he didn't take him places he didn't think he could go, if he didn't demand those very things from Rodney that were so hard for Rodney to surrender.

 

John lowered his head again and this time he sucked down hard on the same nipple he'd just lightly bitten. Rodney squealed but he didn't move...and John stayed there, his warm mouth sucking down for what felt like hours. Rodney glanced at the clock. Three minutes had passed – he still had two more to endure. It might as well have been hours because each second was agony and Rodney could feel the sweat bead on his brow and drip down his face. John didn't go easy on him – he moved his head again, and took Rodney's other nipple in his mouth and tongued it purposefully, while squeezing its twin with his free hand. Rodney gasped, losing himself completely in his own submission, offering himself up to John for whatever torment his husband wanted to hand out. That pain in his chest seemed to go on forever, but Rodney was lost now, unaware of the time passing – there was just the fiery agony in his nipples, and John's mouth and fingertips, just him and them...just his husband taking and him offering up freely and that was the way it should be, and it made him feel at peace with this strange universe they were in. Then, suddenly, shockingly, it was over. It took a few moments for Rodney to realise that he'd been released, so absorbed was he in his own submission, but then he glanced blearily at the clock and realised the five minutes was up...and next thing he knew John was sliding down his body, and that tormenting mouth was swallowing his cock whole.

 

"Oh shit..." Rodney whispered, as John's tongue flicked over his entire length, arousing it from its flaccid state immediately. John was as expert at giving head as he was in all the other things he did to Rodney's body, whether painful or pleasurable, but this most definitely fell into the latter category. Rodney's hands clutched at the sheets and he took fistfuls of them, groaning as John sucked down gently on the very tip of his penis. He could feel himself leaking pre-come and knew that he was close, but John was taking his time. He alternated between licking the crown of Rodney's cock and sliding his warm mouth over the whole of the helmet, sucking down hard. He dipped his head and took Rodney's entire cock into his mouth, deep throating him easily, as he'd made Rodney deep throat him earlier. Rodney screamed out loud, bucking his hips up against his husband's face, and John moved his mouth back and forth around his distended cock, milking it, and then he drew back.

 

"Come for me, Rodney," he whispered, looking handsome and crazy and wild, his dark hair dishevelled, his lips sex-swollen, his eyes alight with some toppy energy all of his own. Then he dipped his head again, slid his lips around Rodney's cock once, twice...and then Rodney was coming, and John was holding his hips tight and still sucking, swallowing down his come.

 

Everything seemed to go white for awhile and then Rodney came to and found John lying next to him, cheek resting on the hand of one propped up arm, a loving grin on his lips. His other hand was stroking Rodney's hair gently, long fingers sliding down to caress Rodney's cheek with each stroke.

 

"So...imagine Dr McKay was in the room right this minute," he said, in a teasing tone. "How would you feel?"

 

"Dr who?" Rodney muttered, never taking his adoring gaze off his handsome husband. John gave a delighted chuckle.

 

"I told you I could make you forget about him," he said. Rodney gave a little snort of laughter. "Now, next time he's winding you up, just take a deep breath and remember all the things I've just done to you, and zone out. If it's really bad, I'll take care of it again when we're alone together. Yes?"

 

"Mmm. Yes," Rodney sighed. "Promise. God that was fantastic. All those toys...all the many cruel ways you tormented me."

 

"If you weren't so incredibly easy to torment, and so amazingly beautiful when you're being tormented, then I wouldn't want to do it so often," John told him.

 

"Beautiful?" Rodney snorted.

 

"But you are – you should see yourself as I see you, when you're tied up, when you're being spanked, when that plump ass of yours is all open and ready to receive me...when I'm making you surrender...you are beautiful, Rodney."

 

"Hmm, well, I think of myself more as incredibly handsome in a manly kind of way but I'll take beautiful if it pleases you," Rodney said, with a dreamy smile. John laughed out loud, and wrapped his husband in his arms with infinite tenderness, taking care not to jolt Rodney's sore nipples.

 

"I'm just going to hold you for awhile," he murmured in Rodney's ear, planting a kiss on the back of Rodney's neck at the same time and Rodney relaxed back against him contentedly, still lost in the haze of his own submission, completely at peace in his husband's arms.

 

~*~

 

The look that flared in Sheppard's eyes when he said the word surprised Rodney. He'd been going to joke about it, say something like "happy now?" but instead he just stayed where he was, still pinned down under John's weight, transfixed by the expression on the Colonel's face, which gradually creased up as he gave a wide grin. He sat back, allowing Rodney to sit up, that intense expression remaining in those hazel eyes.

 

Rodney rubbed his wrists where John had been holding him down, and was about to complain about the red marks on them but somehow, once more, he didn't feel like talking. He just examined the marks intently, wondering why he was so fascinated by them. John got to his feet, and Rodney expected him to make some stupid ass comment about the fact that he'd got Rodney to say the 's' word, despite Rodney's protestations that he never would, but John didn't say anything. Instead, he reached down a hand – Rodney thought it was to help him up but instead he did something extremely weird – he ruffled Rodney's hair. Rodney frowned at this very un-Sheppard-like behaviour but he still felt too relaxed and out of it to say anything. Some small part of him was surprised by his complete lack of conversation – he was never usually at a loss for words. Usually he could hardly stop himself from spewing forth on any endless number of subjects, although often it was just whatever was going through his overactive brain. For the moment though, his brain seemed to have slowed down to what he guessed was normal speed for everyone else, and half speed for him. He felt as if he was doing everything in slow motion, his body loose and lacking the tension that usually made his shoulders feel tight and sore, and he suspected that he might actually be humming but he was too out of it to be sure.

 

John was leaning over him again now, and this time he was reaching out a hand to help him up. Rodney accepted it and allowed the other man to pull him to his feet.

 

"So...did that help?" Sheppard asked.

 

"Mmm. What?" Rodney glanced at him with a tired smile.

 

"Your argument with Dr Sheppard...it had you all jumpy but now you look like you're sleepwalking so I'm guessing you've calmed down."

 

"I do feel..." Rodney drifted off, unsure how he felt and his brain was working too slowly for him to think of the right words to finish the sentence. Usually he wouldn't want to give Sheppard the satisfaction of knowing he'd got something right, but on this occasion he was surprised to find that he really didn't mind. "Yes...it worked. Thank you, John." He said the name absently, and in fact barely even registered that he'd said it, and he also hardly even noticed the little smile that appeared on the Colonel's lips in response to his slip.

 

"I was thinking...it's about time to eat and the Daedalus docked a few hours ago with new supplies so there'll be good stuff on the menu tonight. How about we go straight to the mess hall?" Sheppard suggested.

 

"Mmm. Why not?" Rodney gave a contented little sigh – they always ate really well after the Daedalus returned from Earth. As they walked towards the door, Sheppard put a hand on his shoulder and normally he'd have shaken it off but it felt like the most natural thing in the world right now – in fact, it felt really good, warm and solid and sort of...protective. Rodney wasn't even aware of it, but he leaned in, ever so slightly, towards the Colonel, so that his upper arm and thigh were touching the Colonel's body as they walked.

 

The mess hall was busy when they got there but they managed to find a table and sat down together, side by side, bodies still touching. Rodney suddenly realised he was famished and he started to devour his food with his usual gusto.

 

"Hey – there's the General and Dr Sheppard," the Colonel said, glancing up as the two men entered the room. "There aren't many free spaces – do you mind if I wave them over, Rodney?"

 

"Mind?" Rodney glanced at him in surprise as he chewed on a massive mouthful. "Oh. Right. Because of my argument with Dr Sheppard earlier. Nope. I don't mind."

 

Sheppard grinned at him. "You could slow down with your food, Rodney. There's no rush."

 

Rodney grinned back, stupidly, thinking that was a very good point and wondering why he was eating so fast. It must just be a reflex action because he was feeling pretty laid back right now. He began chewing more slowly, gazing hazily at the two men who were approaching their table. They both looked kind of damp around the edges, as if they'd just had a shower, and the General was doing that leading his Rodney around on the end of his leash thing that wound Rodney up so much. He felt a small spasm of annoyance about it but was feeling too good right now to let the emotion take over. As they came close, Rodney found himself frowning though.

 

"What on earth are you wearing?" he couldn't help blurting out as Dr Sheppard approached bearing a massive plateful of food.

 

"Something John got for me," his counterpart replied, shooting a look of sappy adoration at his husband. He was clad in a pair of tight black pants, which laced up provocatively at the crotch, drawing attention to that area of his body, and he had on a dazzlingly blue silk shirt, which clung to his chest and shoulders, accentuating their breadth.

 

"I think it's neat," Sheppard said, gazing at the other Rodney appreciatively. Rodney gave him a look of disbelief.

 

"It's kind of...revealing," he muttered. Not that it should matter, but the point was that when his doppelganger wore stuff like this then people could see what *he* would look like dressed in the same way and he found that incredibly embarrassing.

 

"The shirt's cool – nice colour – matches your eyes," Sheppard said. Rodney glared at him. "What?" Sheppard shrugged.

 

"You're a guy – how come you even notice these things?" Rodney protested.

 

"I'm a guy - I'm not blind," Sheppard said defensively. "The shirt looks good on him."

 

"Well thank you, Colonel," the other Rodney said, sitting down very gingerly, a slight wince crossing his features as his ass made contact with the chair.

 

"Oh god, not again," Rodney sighed. "What did you do this time?"

 

"Do?" His counterpart gazed at him blankly. "Oh. Right. Nothing." He grinned at his husband in a conspiratorial kind of way. "I was just feeling...tense...and John took care of it for me."

 

"That takes care of it?" Rodney screwed up his face. "Really?"

 

"Oh yeah." Rodney gave that little giggle of his that always irritated Rodney so much.

 

"So...you two are looking a bit red in the face...and, kind of sweaty if you don't mind me saying so," the General commented, wrinkling up his nose as he took his seat beside his Rodney. He forked up some food and fed it to his husband and Atlantis's Rodney tensed. He always found this feeding thing so weird. He felt his knee start to bounce up and down, the way it did when he was agitated.

 

"Yeah – just took Rodney through some wrestling moves," Sheppard said casually, and as he did so he put a hand on Rodney's knee to still the restless movement. He left it there for a second until Rodney stopped bouncing. Rodney took a deep breath and tried to recapture the peaceful mood he'd been in.

 

"Ah. Right," the General said smugly, looking as if he knew some big, important secret that he wasn't going to share with anyone. Rodney glared at him now – but not too much because the truth was the General kind of scared him.

 

"The Colonel is just trying to give me some lessons that will help me when we go offworld," he said, jutting his chin out combatively.

 

"Okay. Right." The General nodded pleasantly, but he still had that annoying smug look on his face.

 

"Sounds good!" his Rodney said cheerfully.

 

Rodney took another slow mouthful of food and tried to stay in that nice, calm headspace. He sat back and watched his counterpart, noticing how he kept gazing at the General with a dreamy look on his face. The two men had always been close, and had never made any secret of how in love they were, but all the same, Rodney had never seen his counterpart looking like *this* before. The tense, snappy man he'd shouted at in the lab earlier had completely disappeared to be replaced by this almost Buddha like incarnation of the man. He had a completely sappy smile on his face throughout the meal, although he barely seemed able to make coherent conversation. He kept saying "what?" and "mmm?" whenever anyone asked him anything and he never took his eyes off his husband. Rodney felt uncomfortable as he wondered just what the General had done to him to make him so happy and zoned out.

 

He was in a pretty good mood himself, but he doubted it was anything approaching the level of relaxed ecstasy that his counterpart was currently experiencing. The General seemed to be in an equally good mood. He couldn't keep his hands off his husband, and petted him much more than usual – and Rodney thought that he usually petted him more than was necessary as it was. Now though, he kept stroking the other Rodney's hair or kissing his cheek as if mesmerised by him. Rodney grew more and more uncomfortable as the meal progressed and kept darting little glances at Sheppard to see if he felt the same way, but the other man seemed oblivious to the embarrassment factor and just smiled back at Rodney, an easy look in his eyes, no hint of discomfort in his body language. When had Sheppard become so at ease with their counterparts' relationship, Rodney wondered? He knew the other man had been unsettled by it to begin with, just like him, but now the Colonel seemed completely unfazed.

 

The two Johns got to talking about something to do with the Daedalus and some tedious military chat about the Daedalus's weaponry systems which Rodney allowed to go in one ear and out the other. He was lost in his own headspace anyway, still trying to cling to his earlier good mood. He noticed that the other Rodney wasn't very talkative either – which made a change. Usually he and his counterpart talked endlessly – or bickered might have been a more accurate description – and the two Johns sat back and tried to get a word in edgeways, but this evening neither of the two Rodneys was very talkative. Rodney was almost at the end of his coffee when his counterpart got up to get some dessert. Rodney watched him walking off, and noticed how relaxed his entire body was, his arms swinging loose. He seemed lost in his own little cloud, humming some kind of happy song under his breath and Rodney was surprised to see a couple of people checking him out as he walked past. He was pretty sure that nobody ever checked him out and his counterpart looked almost exactly the same as he did. The two Johns were still wrapped up in their own conversation and Rodney rested a head on his arm, feeling drowsy. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed someone approaching the other Rodney and he blinked, surprised. Kavanagh. Damn – how could he have forgotten that the other scientist was due back on the Daedalus today? Kavanagh was looking at his counterpart as if he was something out of a zoo.

 

"My god. What the hell...?" Kavanagh looked his counterpart up and down. The other Rodney sighed and glared at him.

 

"Do I know you?" he said.

 

"Rodney? Oh, no, I get it – you're the *other* one I've heard about. My god, this is priceless. McKay must love having you around," Kavanagh sneered. "I wish I had my camera...you look...like a rent boy or something." He leaned in close, too close, one hand brushing Rodney Sheppard's silk clad arm, and the other Rodney stiffened.

 

"Look, I don't know who the hell you are but back off," he hissed. "Trust me – you really don't want to mess with me."

 

"Oh, I'm just looking. What's this?" Kavanagh had a slightly too interested look in his eye as he flicked at the pendant around the other Rodney's neck.

 

Rodney Sheppard snapped out a hand and fastened it – hard – around Kavanagh's wrist. "I'm warning you...you *really* don't want to mess with me," he said, in a low, hard tone. Rodney was impressed – his counterpart really knew how to take care of himself. Even as he was busy thinking that, he heard a whizzing sound and next thing he knew a knife had twanged past Kavanagh's head, narrowly missing his ponytail, and was buried in the wall just behind his right eye. The entire room went silent and the General got slowly to his feet and walked purposefully over to Kavanagh. Rodney almost laughed out loud as the pony tailed scientist slunk back against the wall, like a cornered rat. The General walked right up to him, invading his personal space...and the mess hall inhaled a collective breath, wondering what was going to happen next. Beside him, Rodney saw Sheppard scramble to his feet anxiously, ready to stop a fight...but the General just smiled politely. He reached out a hand and Kavanagh flinched, visibly.

 

"Excuse me," the General said to Kavanagh. "I seem to have mislaid my knife." And he pulled his knife out of the wall and replaced it in his sheath. The entire mess hall exhaled en masse.

 

"I did warn you," Rodney Sheppard said to Kavanagh with a shrug. "Jerk," he added for good measure. The General leaned in close and whispered something in Kavanagh's ear. Rodney couldn't hear what he was saying but Kavanagh's face seemed to drain of blood and he went very pale. Then the General smiled at him pleasantly and patted his arm, before putting a hand on his Rodney's shoulder and drawing him back to the table. Kavanagh immediately scuttled out of the room like a scared rabbit.

 

"You know, we generally don't approve of knives being thrown around in the mess hall," Sheppard said in a conversational tone when their counterparts returned to the table.

 

"I have a very accurate aim," the General replied, his hand still firmly attached to his husband's shoulder.

 

"Still. There's a lot of people around," Sheppard pointed out. "Someone could have got hurt."

 

"There was provocation," the General growled. "Nobody touches..."

 

"What's yours. Sure I know that," Sheppard nodded. "I think we all pretty much know that by now. I'm just saying. That's all."

 

There was a long silence and Rodney gazed at the General surreptitiously when he thought the other man wasn't looking. The General had a very dark look in his eyes and it was noticeable that he still hadn't relinquished his hold on the other Rodney's shoulder.

 

"Uh oh," John sighed a few seconds later. "Looks like word of your knife throwing skills has gotten around." They all looked up to see Elizabeth standing in the doorway. The General sighed and put down his napkin, then stood up respectfully as Elizabeth strode towards him, her eyes flashing.

 

"General – I've had reports of a fight in here," she said, fixing him with her steely eyed gaze – the one she saved for when she was really pissed. Rodney winced – he knew that gaze and it didn't bode well for the General.

 

"My apologies, my lady," the General said, bowing his head to her head. "The Colonel has already explained to me that my actions were not appropriate in your universe."

 

"There was a knife thrown?" Elizabeth demanded tersely.

 

"Yes. Nobody was hurt," the General replied.

 

"That's irrelevant, General!" she rapped out. "We can't have people starting fights in here and we most definitely can't have knives being thrown around – somebody could have been killed!"

 

"What I did would not have been viewed as unacceptable or even out of the ordinary in our universe," the General murmured. "But I'm sorry to have offended you, my lady. Honestly." He bowed his head again.

 

"I should throw you in the brig for a couple of days," she told him. Rodney Sheppard got to his feet anxiously at that, making a strange sound in the back of his throat.

 

"It's okay, Rodney," the General told him softly. "I will willingly subject myself to whatever discipline you wish to impose, my lady," he told her, standing to attention.

 

Elizabeth seemed surprised by that and she stood there for a moment, clearly assessing the situation. "I don't want to put you in the brig," she said finally, with a sigh. "I do understand that your ways are different to ours, and you are our guests while you are here, but I must ask you to respect our customs the way we have tried to respect yours."

 

"You are very kind, my lady." The General bowed his head again. "I offer my sincere apologies again."

 

"Thank you. Then we'll say no more about it," she said, turning to go.

 

"Why do you tolerate him, my lady?" the General called after her. She stiffened and turned back.

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"In our universe that man never made it to Atlantis. You met him at McMurdo and had a bad feeling about him so he never made it on the team. You talked it over with me at the time and I agreed with you. Why don't you listen to your gut, Elizabeth? You have a bad feeling about him too, but you ignore it. You're too interested in being polite. It's the same with the knife – you people don't like to show how you're feeling, whether its love or anger. Your universe is so polite, so constricted."

 

"These are the rules we've chosen to live by," Elizabeth snapped at him. "Without them, there would be anarchy – everyone would be at each other's throats!"

 

"That's not what happens in our universe. Instead, we know where we stand," the General told her.

 

"We're not in your universe, General!" she told him forcefully. "And I happen to like the rules of *my* universe just fine."

 

Sheppard got to his feet cautiously. "I think we have another one of those culture clash issues going on here," he said in a soothing tone. "Nobody's right or wrong – it's just different. Elizabeth's got a point though, General. You're here not back home, and to be honest it's been great learning from you, about all kinds of stuff, and fascinating getting an insight into your culture - but we must ask you to obey our rules while you're here."

 

The General nodded at both Elizabeth and Sheppard.

 

"I understand," he said. "I deeply regret that my actions might have embarrassed or offended you. Now...with your permission, my lady, I think we'll retire for the evening."

 

He glanced at his Rodney who got immediately to his feet. The General took hold of his husband's leash and the other Rodney wrapped an arm around his waist, and the two men left the mess hall together.

 

Rodney watched as Sheppard went over to Elizabeth.

 

"He does have a point you know," he whispered to her. "About Kavanagh?"

 

"Yeah. I know," she sighed.

 

"It'd be kind of nice to just ship him back home wouldn't it?" Sheppard said softly, so that Rodney had to strain to hear him. Elizabeth gave a throaty little chuckle.

 

"Yeah, it would – especially as he only just arrived," she grinned.

 

"Maybe something to think about?" Sheppard raised an eyebrow.

 

"Maybe," she said thoughtfully, and then she left.

 

The Colonel came and sat back down at the table beside Rodney again.

 

"Wow – way to go, Elizabeth," Rodney said, sitting back and folding his arms across his chest. "Standing up to the General like that. I'm impressed."

 

"Yeah. There's the thing," Sheppard sighed. Rodney frowned and glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. "Everyone finds him so damn cool," Sheppard muttered, flushing slightly.

 

"Wait...you're saying you're jealous?" Rodney asked. Sheppard bit on his lip.

 

"Not jealous exactly...but...you know, back on that mission to PBX-250, nobody even questioned him when he took command. Ronon and Teyla just did what he said without even looking at me." Sheppard paused and gazed at Rodney speculatively for a moment. Rodney realised that usually he'd make a snarky comment around this time, press one of the Colonel's buttons and jump up and down on his insecurities about the General, but he didn't want to do that right now. Sheppard had been good to him today – in fact, he'd been pretty nice to him for awhile now, and Rodney found that somehow he must have started to trust the man because instead of saying something sarcastic he put a hand on Sheppard's arm.

 

"Go on," he said softly.

 

"You think he's cool too, don't you?" Sheppard said. "Everyone does. I mean, I do too, but I was just wondering...what is it that you like about him particularly? Be honest with me, Rodney. Why did my team follow him so easily back there?"

 

Rodney thought about it for a moment. Sheppard had asked him to be honest with him and he thought he could do that. Usually his brand of honesty was pretty brutal but he didn't want to hand that kind of honesty out to the Colonel right now so he chose his words carefully.

 

"I think...he's just very direct, John," he said, using the first name on purpose this time. "He's very in the moment somehow. You know he means what he says and he'll do what he says. It's not like you hold back on us, just that he's more in your face. I wouldn't beat yourself up about this - we trust you completely when we go offworld and you know that Ronon would do anything for you. I like your leadership style better to be honest – he's very sure of himself, as we saw just now..." Rodney glanced at the knife mark in the wall, "but you're more laid back, and frankly less scary."

 

Sheppard grinned at him. "Damn – see – I'd like to be more scary."

 

"I like you just the way you are," Rodney said, with a shrug. He hadn't meant the comment to sound sappy but Sheppard actually looked rather touched. "Okay...while we're being honest. What do you like about Rodney Sheppard?" he asked with a sigh. "Go on – just tell me. I can handle it."

 

"Okaaay..." Sheppard looked unconvinced on that score. "He's funny, he's smart."

 

"I'm smart!" Rodney pointed out with a pout. "And I can be funny. How come all my staff like him more than they like me?"

 

"I don't think they do to be honest. It's just easier for him because ultimately it's not his lab and he doesn't have to take any of that responsibility - so he gets to have more fun around your people. Also, he really is less uptight," Sheppard said with a sigh. "He's...it's just I find you fun to be around and he is too – but he's not climbing the walls every five minutes."

 

"I don't climb the...did you say you find me fun to be around?" Rodney wasn't sure why that meant so much to him but it did.

 

"Sure I do – you must have noticed that we do hang out together quite a lot," Sheppard grinned. "I wouldn't do that if I didn't like you."

 

"Oh. Right. Great." Rodney felt peculiarly pleased by that thought.

 

"He's just a bit more laid back – and he has that infectious giggle," Sheppard added.

 

"Infectious? Seriously? I hate that giggle."

 

"I can't hear it without wanting to laugh with him. He's also, generally speaking, less likely to bite your head off."

 

"He's always biting my head off!" Rodney protested.

 

"Yeah, but I have to say that nine times out of ten you do seem to start that," the Colonel pointed out.

 

"No I don't! If anything it's six of one and half a dozen of the other!"

 

"Okay," Sheppard nodded, putting up his hands in mock surrender. "But he's not like that with the rest of us so it's mainly just you - the pair of you seem to wind each other up."

 

"Well he's so insufferably smug!"

 

"I'm with you on that one," Sheppard grinned. "He is a bit - and you're not - which is why I'd prefer to hang out with you any day. And I suspect your team feels the same - like I said, you're wrong about them liking him more – I think he just makes more of an effort to socialise with them than you do."

 

"Yeah – what's with this whole dinner party thing he and the General have going?" Rodney frowned in distaste, although he was glowing a little inside at finding that Sheppard at least preferred him to his counterpart.

 

"They're just a boring old married couple, I guess," Sheppard grinned. "That's what married couples do."

 

Rodney nodded thoughtfully, and found himself gazing at Sheppard. They had had a few honest conversations over the past couple of years, but he didn't think they'd ever had such an honest personal conversation without snarking or making some joke to deflect from what they were saying. Rodney never usually trusted other people enough to talk with them on a personal level – he had very low expectations as a result of a long history of being ridiculed – but Sheppard was different. The other man seemed to actually be genuine. He'd been particularly nice of late, frequently seeking Rodney out and dining with him and Rodney had slowly come to relax and unwind in his company, and he had to admit that it felt good. Rodney supposed that they'd been kind of thrown together as a result of the unusual situation they were in with their doppelgangers being on Atlantis – no wonder the Colonel had started wanting to spend more time with him. They were the only people on the base who understood how weird this whole thing was.

 

"Hello! Rodney!" Sheppard waved a hand in front of his eyes. Rodney blinked, realising he'd gone off into a haze. "You look shattered."

 

"It was that bloody wrestling," Rodney griped. "I bet I'll have bruises all over tomorrow."

 

"Are you going back to the lab or will you turn in now?" the Colonel asked, and Rodney noticed he'd gone very tense.

 

"I should go back and do some more work," Rodney sighed, "but I'm falling asleep here so I think I'll have an early night."

 

They left the mess hall together, and Rodney wasn't entirely sure where Sheppard was going but the Colonel walked with him all the way to his quarters, and once again he placed his hand on Rodney's shoulder as they walked. It was getting to be a habit, and Rodney felt uneasy about it. His first thought was to shrug the hand off and make a snarky comment about it, but some other instinct was stopping him, and he didn't have a clue what that was about. This whole situation scared him. In his experience, the minute you started opening up to someone was the minute you exposed yourself to potential ridicule and that made him feel like running a mile in the opposite direction but at the same time he didn't want to. He *liked* Sheppard, damnit! They stopped outside Rodney's door and Sheppard stood there, gazing at him in that weird, intent way he'd adopted lately.

 

"Thanks for...you know...whatever, Colonel," Rodney said, unsure whether he was referring to the wrestling, or the honest conversation over dinner, or maybe both, and feeling stupid.

 

"Oh I enjoyed it," Sheppard replied, with a glint in his eye that made Rodney think he was definitely referring to the wrestling.

 

"Yeah, any excuse to throw me around," Rodney grumbled. He turned to go, one hand on his door lock, but as he did so he was sure he saw a strange flash in the other man's eyes.

 

Rodney shut the door behind him, feeling weird – still spaced out and hazy but also unsettled and he wasn't sure why. He took a shower and as he soaped himself down he noticed some little bruises from their wrestling session. He remembered how it had felt being pinned down by Sheppard's strong, lean body, and he traced the bruises idly with his fingertips. Sheppard's breath had been warm on his cheek as he'd pinioned him to the mat and Rodney found his own breathing coming in sharp gasps. He closed his eyes to concentrate on the memory, fingertips ghosting over the bruises. He remembered wriggling, trying to get free, and the sensation of being overpowered...and next thing he knew his hand had slid southwards and was wrapping itself around his hard cock. His eyes snapped open and he glanced down in horror.

 

"You cannot be turned on by this," he told himself sternly, trying to focus on his usual jerk-off fantasies which were mainly about large breasted women pressing themselves against him. Somehow though, it failed to work, and his cock softened. Rodney rested his head miserably against the shower wall. He didn't want to think about John holding him down; didn't want to think about how it had felt to have his arms held over his head and John's hazel eyes gazing at him so intently; didn't want to think about how he'd imagined John as a panther, all sleek dark fur, wild eyes and sharp teeth, gazing at him like he was prey...

 

"Damnit!" Rodney realised that he was rock hard again, and that thought completely freaked him out so much that he turned on the cold water to teach himself a lesson. "Not gay," he muttered to himself as he stood under the freezing water. "Not gay, not gay, NOT gay..."

---

 

Part Nine: Double Trouble

 

 

Rodney McKay surprised himself by sleeping like a log that night and woke up feeling lazy and refreshed. He sort of ached when he moved but it was a good ache, like all his muscles had been given a good workout. Rodney stretched, trying to remember why he felt so good, and he had a sudden mental flash of Sheppard leaning over him, dark hair dishevelled and a wild look in his eyes, and within seconds he was hard. Rodney glanced under his sheets with a growl of annoyance.

 

"We are SO not having this conversation again," he told his mutinous cock. He tried jerking off but his usual masturbatory fantasies failed him yet again. He lay there, struggling with himself, wanting the release but not at the cost of using the memory of lying under Colonel Sheppard's hard, lean body in order to get off. Eventually he gave in and took himself off for yet another cold shower rather than have any release but his good mood was already starting to evaporate. He got dressed and almost ran to his lab, eager to distract himself with his work – a tried and tested Rodney McKay avoidance strategy. To his surprise he was the last to arrive – he hadn't realised he'd slept for so long. He noticed Kavanagh, standing at the opposite end of the room to his doppelganger and casting malicious glances at the other Rodney every so often.

 

"Great to have you back," Rodney said to Kavanagh, in an entirely insincere tone. "Did Radek fill you in on the work?"

 

"Yes – I was wondering why you seem to be devoting virtually our entire team to this laborious task with the crystals," Kavanagh said sourly. "What about all the other projects we've been working on – have those been shelved just so we can get these...people home?" He looked over at Rodney Sheppard as if he was something he'd just stepped in.

 

"That's about right, yes," Rodney told him grimly. "Our mistake brought them here – the least we can do is work on sending them back."

 

"Well as far as I can see it was actually *your* mistake that brought them here," Kavanagh muttered. "If only Dr Weir had done as I suggested, and limited tinkering with Ancient technology to a properly approved committee of experts..."

 

"Uh, excuse me, but nobody here is a greater expert on Ancient technology than me," Rodney pointed out.

 

"Which would be fine if you didn't let your ego run away with you," Kavanagh replied. "That's why a committee would be a better idea. Now we've all had to give up our own projects to bail out one of your mistakes."

 

"You don't," Rodney said. Kavanagh blinked.

 

"No, no, no – you're right – there's no reason to tie everyone up on this and we *are* a little bit behind on our city maintenance projects," Rodney told him, rocking back on his heels with a brightly malicious smile. "I noticed we had a problem with the sewage system – things have gotten pretty backed up on the lower levels. You're an engineer. Here." Rodney handed him a lap top and a bag of tools. "Get down there and figure it out. Oh – and don't rush back on our account. It'll probably take the best part of a week to clear it but we'll manage without you somehow in the meantime." He gave Kavanagh another beaming smile and then turned back to the rest of his team. "Jerk," he muttered under his breath.

 

The other Rodney seemed oddly subdued and he sought Rodney out when the others had gone to lunch – which was unusual of and by itself because he usually liked to go to lunch with them, and keep them amused by regaling them with a list of TV shows from his universe that sounded almost like those from their own, but with some none too subtle differences. Rodney still shuddered when he recalled the details of the alternate version of Star Trek.

 

"So what's up with you?" Rodney asked his counterpart, thrusting a donut into his mouth as he poked his head under the casing of the QDD. "You're being uncharacteristically quiet. Where's all the sexual innuendo and general obsession with all things kinky?"

 

"What?" the other Rodney queried. "I have no idea what you just said." Rodney lifted his head out of the casing and removed the donut from his mouth with a sigh.

 

"You. Quiet. Why?" he asked, before cramming the donut back in.

 

"Nothing. Just..." The other Rodney actually looked genuinely worried. Rodney put his donut down with a frown. "Would Elizabeth really have put John in the brig?" his counterpart asked.

 

"Oh, is that still bothering you? I have no idea. Maybe."

 

The other Rodney wrapped his arms miserably around his chest and Rodney rolled his eyes.

 

"Oh for god's sake – it's not like you're joined at the hip. He's been away from you before – you said that when we brought you here he'd just got back from several days offworld without you. It's not like you can't cope without him or anything."

 

"No. It's not that." His counterpart bit down on his lip. "It's just the idea of him being locked up, put in some kind of cage, deliberately separated from me and everyone else. I can't believe you people are so casual about that."

 

"Well that's how we feel about that whole leash thing and the...that other thing you guys do." Rodney glanced pointedly in the direction of his counterpart's ass.

 

"Really?" The other Rodney just looked puzzled.

 

"Really," Rodney said firmly. They both gazed at each other blankly for a moment.

 

"John's pretty upset about last night," the other Rodney said finally. "We are trying, you know, McKay, but you must understand that our customs are different. I had to actually work on him to get him to allow me to come here without him this morning – he doesn't trust your people any more after last night. He's not sure I'll be safe. He doesn't think your people will respect me or my relationship with him."

 

"What's he frightened of? That someone might – ooh – touch you?" Rodney rolled his eyes. "What's that about anyway? I saw you yesterday with Kavanagh – and bear in mind this is Kavanagh we're talking about and not someone really scary. The man is a total wuss and you were clearly more than able to handle him. There was no need for the General to start doing his Indiana Jones routine with the knife."

 

"You don't get it," his counterpart said, shaking his head. "In our universe what Kavanagh did is...it's like a taboo. Can't you get your head around that?"

 

"Not really." Rodney shrugged. "So his hand brushed your arm and he flicked at your pendant – big deal. Hey – what are you doing?" he yelled, outraged, as his counterpart suddenly snatched up his donut and took a big bite.

 

"Annoyed?" The other Rodney raised an eyebrow, munching furiously. "Now multiply that feeling of outrage by a million and that's how John was feeling last night when Kavanagh touched me. It's that simple. In our universe I'm protected by my status – I'm respected because of my status - and nobody would touch me without asking John's permission first. It's just our way. I know it seems stupid and meaningless to you but it means a great deal to us."

 

"That makes you sound like some kind of possession!" Rodney exploded.

 

"I am!" Rodney shouted back.

 

"Well that's what I have a problem with!" Rodney yelled.

 

"Why? It's my goddamn life, not yours!"

 

Rodney came up short at that. It was a good point.

 

"Maybe because I can't understand how someone who looks like me and talks like me – someone with *my* intellect, could be happy being someone else's property. Why would you want to live in that kind of relationship?"

 

Rodney Sheppard shrugged, helplessly. "It's just our way. It's what we do. It makes me happy. It makes him happy. It's voluntary – I went into it with my eyes open and I can divorce him any time I like if I'm not happy with the arrangement. Where's the problem?"

 

"Maybe you should try seeing things from our point of view," Rodney said, trying to come at it from a different angle. "You're always banging on about how great things are in your universe – the General was going on last night about how we're so polite as if it's some kind of offence! Yes we are polite – if we weren't then we wouldn't have put up with you two the way we have, or be bending over backwards to help you get home!"

 

"Well, if we're so damn hard to have around why the hell don't you just throw us through the Stargate and have done with?" the other Rodney snapped.

 

"Oh, trust me, it's not as if I haven't suggested it," Rodney replied. "Luckily for you the Colonel is a more tolerant man than me and he vetoed it."

 

"Well maybe that's because he actually likes us. It seems to me that you're the only one around here who's freaked out by us and we both know why that is."

 

"Oh yeah?" Rodney knew they were both behaving like five year olds but somehow that was how he always felt himself responding to his alter ego.

 

"Yeah – you've got the hots for the Colonel and can't admit it because of this weird 'gay' taboo thing in your universe – although I've been asking around about that and there are some couples on this base in same gender relationships so I don't know what the hell your problem is, McKay."

 

"Oh just...just shut up," Rodney growled, feeling like someone had stuck a knife into his gut and twisted it. The other Rodney's barbs had always annoyed him but they'd never actually wounded him until today. Now, because of his recent masturbatory disasters, he was confused and upset and didn't have a clue what to do about it. He just felt locked up in his own little bubble of misery.

 

As the days wore on, Rodney's mood didn't improve. This was partly as a result of his refusal to jerk off while thinking about the Colonel. He was a highly sexed man and had been jerking off three times a day for most of his adult life and now he was denying himself that release and that was just stoking up his frustration even more. Working with Rodney Sheppard didn't help. It was hard enough struggling with these new fantasies without his counterpart being so easily and obviously in love with the alternate John. That felt like salt being rubbed into a raw wound as far as Rodney was concerned and he just wished he didn't have to see his counterpart on a daily basis in the lab. Rodney didn't even have the release of going to Colonel Sheppard for more wrestling, which had worked so well last time, because now just the thought of it had him running back to his quarters for a cold shower. Rodney suspected he might be cleaner now than he'd ever been in his life as a result of all this freezing cold water and he was heartily sick of being so in thrall to his libido.

 

He tried to avoid the Colonel but that wasn't easy as the man had a habit of popping up every five minutes, or so it seemed to Rodney. He was always poking his head around the lab door to find out if Rodney was going to the mess hall, or sometimes he'd come into the lab late at night when everyone else had gone to bed and just sit there, keeping Rodney company, those long legs of his stretched out on any available surface, hands behind his head. Sometimes he talked, and sometimes he handed Rodney various tools while he worked and Rodney had to admit it was nice – although it would have been even nicer if he hadn't felt himself growing hard just from having the other man around. It was getting to be embarrassing and Rodney was becoming more and more desperate.

 

At least work on the QDD was progressing well – Rodney thought they might be able to test it within a week and that meant that their unwelcome visitors might soon return home. He was sure his libido would return to normal once that happened. They were busy working on a particularly pivotal part of the whole project one afternoon when the General poked his head around the door.

 

"Rodney – I need you," he said. The other Rodney immediately put down his tools and Rodney gazed at him in amazement.

 

"You can't leave now!" he growled. "We are *this* close to getting the power source re-engaged."

 

"Well, it'll still be here when I get back," his counterpart said, with a grin.

 

"Oh for god's sake." Rodney threw his tools down and glared him. "Why do you jump to it whenever he calls? What does he want anyway?"

 

His counterpart waggled his eyebrows suggestively and Rodney shook his head in disbelief.

 

"You're kidding me right? He's calling you out of here when things are getting interesting just so that you and he can..."

 

"Rodney," the General said impatiently from over by the door. Rodney Sheppard gave Atlantis's Rodney a cheeky grin and then ran for the door. Rodney stared after him, utterly outraged. He was still outraged when his counterpart returned half an hour or so later, looking relaxed and humming softly to himself.

 

"Well I'm glad you're feeling so happy," Rodney commented sourly. "What the hell is wrong with you? Running out like that just when we were close to seeing if the crystals could take the power surge – don't you two have *any* self control?"

 

"He wanted me," the other Rodney shrugged.

 

"And that's the way it works? He *wants* you so you just go running?" Rodney exploded. "Supposing you weren't in the mood?"

 

"Well, then I'd still go running – although actually I don't think I've ever not been in the mood. And that *is* the way it works, yes. I'm his and he was horny," the other Rodney said, patiently, as if explaining something to a moron. "Look, that's just how things are in our universe in the kind of marriage he and I wanted to have. What does it matter to you anyway? Just because you're uptight and frigid doesn't mean I have to be too because we look the same."

 

"I'm not frig..." Rodney caught himself with great effort. "Let's get back to work," he said, through gritted teeth. Only he found that he couldn't. He couldn't stop thinking about the fact that his counterpart was so readily available to take care of his husband's sexual whims...and while his mind was outraged, his cock was reacting with its usual treachery. They worked for a few minutes but Rodney couldn't concentrate.

 

"Have you ever refused him?" he asked, annoyed with himself for wanting to know more but unable to contain his curiosity.

 

"What? Oh...kind of. Once. I was working on something really exciting in the lab one week and he thought I'd been working too long and too late. He warned me about it but I was too caught up in what I was doing and forgot to meet him that evening." The other Rodney paused and pushed a piece of wavy hair behind his ear so it wouldn't get in his way while he was working.

 

"What happened?" Rodney asked, hating himself for his fascination.

 

"He came to the lab. I told him to hang on because I was just finishing something..." Rodney made a little face. "Next thing I knew he'd thrown me over the table and was ripping my pants down. Man that was hot." He grinned at Rodney. "Kind of scary too – and I could tell he was pissed and wanted me to realise I wasn't taking our wedding vows seriously. He spanked my ass a few times then took me there and then, over the lab table."

 

"Oh god," Rodney breathed, wondering how it would feel if Colonel Sheppard stalked in here one night and instead of sitting down and putting his legs up, pushed Rodney down over one of the tables. Rodney closed his eyes, trying hard not to think of the Colonel's warm breath on the back of his neck, or his insistent hands fumbling with the fastenings on Rodney's pants. He couldn't imagine anyone being that full of desire for him that they'd feel a need to take him then and there, but the idea turned him on so much that his cock immediately hardened in his pants. "I need to...uh, check something out," he said, turning away from his counterpart and running for the door.

 

He made it back to his quarters and threw himself down on the bed while struggling to get his pants open - and this time he didn't stop himself. He wrapped his hand around his hard cock and imagined being pinned down by Colonel Sheppard, imagined the Colonel thrusting into him, hard, while he writhed, helpless but willing, beneath the other man. Rodney came, harder and more explosively than he could ever remember in his life before and then he groaned and buried his face in the pillow. He really didn't have any idea what was going on. He had never thought very much about his sexuality before but he knew that he liked women sexually – it had just never occurred to him that he might like men that way too. True, he'd never found it easy to persuade women to sleep with him but he assumed that was mainly because most people tended to dislike him. Although, now he thought about it, there had been some very sweet women in his life, such as Katie Brown, who had seemed genuinely interested in him but he'd felt so awkward around her that their relationship had never come close to getting off the ground – or into the bedroom and he'd never really pursued it. He backed off the moment a woman showed any interest in him – was there a reason for that? Rodney wondered what had been stopping him. Now he looked back he could see that he'd always enjoyed being around Sheppard – the Colonel had never physically intimidated him the way the military boys usually tried to; he laughed with Rodney rather than at him, most of the time at least, and Rodney had never felt more easy around anyone in his life than he did around Sheppard. Which all added up to what? Rodney had no idea. He just knew that he'd jerked off to thoughts of being fucked up the ass by his best friend on the base and now he felt utterly humiliated and angry with himself as a result.

 

In the absence of anyone else to take it out on, Rodney took it out on himself – both versions. He punished himself by becoming even more ferocious with his freezing shower regime, and he punished his counterpart, who looked so much like him, and who was so at ease with the very concept that was so frightening to Rodney, by sneering at him whenever he came within earshot. The relationship between the two men, which had never been good at the best of times, deteriorated rapidly as a result, and Rodney found himself becoming more and more isolated in his own work space as his counterpart gravitated towards the other members of his team – which in turn just made Rodney feel even more jealous of the ease with which he got on with them all – particularly Radek.

 

 

 

Things came to a head two days later when they were in the last stages of getting the QDD ready for a test run. Rodney was busy under the casing – he'd taken to spending most of his working day under there simply to avoid his counterpart – but he could still hear the other Rodney chattering on to Radek and Miko and anyone else who would listen, as they all worked on the crystals. Rodney knew that he could be talkative but at least he usually kept it work related – the other Rodney seemed to hold forth on any topic under the sun.

 

"So, 'Will and Grace'?" Radek was asking. Rodney gritted his teeth, hating this particular game and not understanding the appeal it held for the rest of his team.

 

"Will and...ah, right – you mean 'Will and Jack'," the other Rodney said, with that irritating giggle. "Will's a strait laced accountant, Jack is his naughty room mate just longing to provoke Will into taking charge of him. Jack barely makes it through an episode without someone tanning his hide. All very droll although personally I can't stand the show."

 

"'Desperate Housewives'?" someone else asked.

 

"Desperate Houseslaves," the other Rodney shot back. "A bunch of neurotic submissives hanging around the house waiting for their tops to come home and using the time to think up various schemes for outwitting them. Irritating. They could easily be out at work doing something useful. I can't stand subs who give up any idea of independent thought the minute they find some stupid dumb top to take care of them."

 

"Oh, I'm sorry," Rodney said, poking his head out from under the casing. "Because that's different to the way you act how exactly?"

 

His counterpart glared at him. "Well, the fact I'm here for a start, working on this, and not sitting in our quarters in a thong and some handcuffs waiting for John to come home."

 

"Oh I really didn't need that mental image thank you very much," Rodney growled.

 

"Well shut up and stop interrupting then," his counterpart said.

 

The rest of the team all sighed and turned back to their work.

 

"Don't tell me to shut up in my own lab," Rodney snapped, sliding out from under the casing and getting up.

 

"Well stop insulting me then," the other Rodney said.

 

"I think we will take a coffee break," Radek said smoothly, gathering up the rest of the team and ushering them out of the door. He'd taken to doing this every time the rows between the two Rodneys got too heated, which was becoming more and more frequent.

 

"Insulting you? How is that insulting you?" Rodney demanded when he was alone with the other man. "You're the one who drops his pants every time the General beckons."

 

"You shouldn't talk about things you don't understand," the other Rodney flared.

 

"Oh but I do understand – you're his sex slave and you have to do everything he says," Rodney told him, with a malicious grin. He knew how much it annoyed the other man to be called a sex slave.

 

"I'm not a..." The other Rodney took a deep breath and managed to get control of himself. "You don't get it, McKay, because you're too scared to get it – all you can do is ridicule it because you're frightened that if you don't you might actually like the idea."

 

"Yeah. Right. What's to like about being someone's fuck toy?" Rodney snapped.

 

"That's not what our relationship is about!" the other Rodney retorted angrily. "That's what gets me – you refuse to see it as it is. You have all these stupid misconceptions and you keep on repeating them over and over again."

 

"I don't see how they're misconceptions," Rodney said, crossing his arms over his chest smugly. "You walked in here, wearing a collar, being dragged around on the end of a leash and you never stop talking about the 101 degrading ways you and he fuck, and..."

 

"Shut up," his counterpart said, his face looking white and pinched. "It only upsets you because you can't stop thinking about it."

 

Rodney uncrossed his arms, stung by the comment.

 

"That's not true," he said, defensively, because it pretty much was.

 

"Yes it is." His counterpart scented blood and went in for the jugular. "You are the most fucked up man I've ever met, McKay. You want to know what it's like – you're fascinated by it. You've been asking me questions about it non-stop since I arrived but you keep pretending it's because you're revolted by it, because it disgusts you, but that isn't it at all. You and I look the same, and talk the same, and maybe deep down we want the same things, McKay. Things are just a little more sedate, a little more buttoned up in your universe, but you heard Carson – you and I have exactly the same DNA and that's what's eating you up inside, isn't it? If we're the same then does that mean that you want what I want? That you'd enjoy what I enjoy? And you're too damn scared to take the journey to find out. You're a coward, McKay."

 

Those words hit home and Rodney stood there, gaping like a fish. He'd been so busy being freaked out about the idea of being gay that he'd been conveniently suppressing his even greater anxiety that he might actually also be sexually submissive, just like his counterpart. That didn't fit into his world view at all – he was a brilliant, assertive man and the idea of being someone's possession just didn't appeal at all...except that his counterpart was a brilliant, assertive man as well and he didn't seem to have a problem with it.

 

"We may have the same DNA but there's a reason why our universes are different," he hissed. "We're not *like* you."

 

"Or maybe, if you scratch the surface, we're more similar than you're comfortable with," the other Rodney hissed back.

 

"Yeah, right, because you've seen me whoring myself out the way you do," Rodney growled. The other Rodney looked as if he'd been slapped.

 

"What did you say?" he asked, in a tight voice.

 

"You heard."

 

"John is my *husband*. Since when is sleeping with your husband 'whoring'?"

 

"Oh I don't know. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you told me that you're his possession, that people can't touch you without asking permission – did you sell yourself out for his protection? Do you feel so scared when you go offworld that you want some kind of bodyguard to keep you safe? Isn't that how it works? You take care of him in the bedroom, he makes sure you stay alive. That's how it looks to me."

 

The other Rodney gave him a look of total disgust and then turned on his heel.

 

"Yeah, why don't you just go running off to Daddy," Rodney called after him. His counterpart paused.

 

"He's not my Daddy. He's my husband," he said in a low, hoarse voice, his fists clenching and unclenching.

 

"It's not a relationship of equals whichever way you look at it," Rodney said, in a superior tone. He turned away loftily to resume his work and was therefore completely unprepared for what happened next, but suddenly there was a noise behind him and next thing he knew his shoulder had been pulled round and he was face to face with a grimly angry version of himself. He had a brief, weird moment of thinking that he'd never known he could look so scary or determined, and then the other Rodney lunged at him, landing a punch to his mouth. Rodney reeled from the force of the blow and from shock, and put up a hand to find blood trickling down his jaw. He responded by launching himself at his counterpart, arms flapping wildly as he tried to land a punch of his own. He was surprised by how strong the other Rodney was though – and how well trained in fighting - and he ended up in a head lock, the other man's arm wrapped around his neck.

 

"Take it back. All of it," Rodney Sheppard hissed, tightening his grasp. Rodney elbowed him in the stomach and his grasp weakened enough for Rodney to break away from him and turn to face him once more. They flapped their arms at each other, both too angry to back down and neither of them exactly fluid or graceful in their fighting style. Rodney closed his eyes and punched around wildly with his fists, hoping to land a blow. He was dimly aware of a commotion at the doorway and then suddenly someone grabbed him from behind and pulled him off his counterpart.

 

"Knock it off!" someone yelled at him but he was still to wound up to think straight and he tried to lunge forward again, only to find that he was held completely immobile in a pair of strong arms. The red mist cleared and he realised it was the Colonel who had him held fast, while his counterpart was being similarly restrained by the General.

 

"What the hell is going on here?" Sheppard demanded angrily. "Radek mentioned something ugly was brewing which was why we put in an appearance but I had no idea you two would be stupid enough to finally come to blows."

 

"It was his fault!" Rodney glared at his panting, dishevelled doppelganger. "He went crazy and hit me! Look." He tried to point to his bleeding lip but it wasn't easy while both his arms were being held behind his back.

 

"Is that true, Rodney?" the General asked, releasing his grip on his own Rodney and turning the other man around to face him.

 

"He was asking for it," the other Rodney said mutinously.

 

"Did you take a swing at him?" the General asked insistently. "Did you throw the first punch?" The other Rodney said nothing. He just gazed at the floor, all the muscles in his body tense.

 

"I was walking away!" Rodney said. "He just went ballistic and threw himself at me."

 

"Rodney?" the General asked in a soft voice. "Is that what happened?"

 

"Pretty much," the other Rodney said at last, finally looking up to meet his husband's gaze, his blue eyes glittering rebelliously.

 

"You hit him first? Not in self defence?" The General rocked back on his heels, still gazing at his husband intently, his lips pursed grimly into a thin line.

 

"Nope. Not self defence. I hit him first," the other Rodney muttered, never taking his eyes off his husband.

 

"You got any explanation?" the General asked. The other Rodney's gaze flickered over to Rodney bitterly for a moment, as if he was expecting something, and then he sighed.

 

"No," he said finally, in a tight voice, looking down again.

 

"Rodney?" the General put both his hands on the other Rodney's shoulders and tried to make eye contact with him. "Help me out here. What's going on?"

 

"Nothing. He was being his usual annoying self so I took a swing at him. I lost it, John. That's what happened," the other Rodney said.

 

"We talked about this. We agreed on how you would handle these emotions. You promised..."

 

"I know what I promised but I screwed up!" the other Rodney snapped. "Okay?"

 

"No, it's not okay," the General said. He turned to Rodney McKay, a very grim expression on his face and Rodney was so alarmed that he took a step back and trod on the Colonel's toes. Sheppard released his grip on his shoulders but Rodney hoped he wasn't going anywhere as he didn't want to face the General's wrath alone. The man had thrown a knife at Kavanagh just for brushing his husband's sleeve so god knows what he intended to do to Rodney. However, the General didn't touch him. Instead he just bowed his head at Rodney, taking him by surprise. "I must apologise for my husband's behaviour, Dr McKay," the General said. "I'm very sorry he assaulted you in this way."

 

"Oh. Right. Good. Well, that's fine," Rodney said, his voice breaking slightly as he spoke. "So, you're not going to...kill me or anything?"

 

The General shook his head, frowning. "I don't think the Colonel would let me," he said, "but anyway, I have no intention of killing you, Dr McKay. It seems clear to me that my husband was at fault here, and I'll punish him to your satisfaction I hope."

 

"Uh...what?" Rodney looked around, shocked, and met Sheppard's equally shocked gaze.

 

"Rodney," the General said, turning back to his husband. "You know what to do." The General folded his sleeves back to the elbow, and then unhooked his strap from his belt. The other Rodney just stood there, his blue eyes dark and resentful. "Rodney," the General said, in a hard tone. "Don't make me tell you twice."

 

The other Rodney moved his hands reluctantly to his waist and undid his pants. Rodney watched him in fascinated horror, suddenly understanding where this was going.

 

"Uh no!" he said, hopping forwards. "There's no need for this. Really. It was just one of those things."

 

"Rodney," the General said, ignoring him completely, "Come here please." He swung a chair round and put his leg up on the lower rung, and then reached out, grabbed his husband's wrist and swung him effortlessly over his knee.

 

"Please don't do this," Rodney squeaked ineffectually. "It was my fault. I provoked him. I said some stuff...look I'm really not surprised he punched me. I'd have done the same in the circumstances. I deserved it. Honestly!"

 

The General paused, one hand holding his husband steady over his knee, and gazed at Rodney impassively.

 

"My husband will take responsibility for his own actions," he said firmly. "He knew he had a problem with you and I showed him a way of handling it. He chose not to do as I told him and he'll be punished for that."

 

He turned back to his husband and pulled his pants down to just below his ass, exposing his buttocks. Rodney's heart did a flip of sheer panic and he turned around frantically, seeking out Sheppard for support.

 

"Colonel – tell him this isn't the way we do things around here," he pleaded.

 

"I don't think there's anything I can say that will stop him right now, and this looks like a private matter between them so I'm reluctant to interfere," Sheppard replied, giving Rodney an extremely dark look.

 

"What? Oh come on! It was just a little scuffle!" Rodney protested. "Look, General, I'm sorry! It really was my fault. If you could have heard what I said to him! He doesn't deserve this. Honestly!" He glanced down at his counterpart, but the other Rodney put his head down and grasped onto his husband's legs with his big hands, seemingly completely resigned to his fate and appearing to signal to Rodney that he should be too.

 

"Ready, Rodney?" the General asked.

 

"Yes, John," the other Rodney replied quietly.

 

The General lifted his strap and brought it down on his husband's exposed ass with a hard thwap. Rodney gazed, horrified, at the red mark it left in its wake. He didn't know what to do but the last thing he wanted to do was stand by and watch this happen. He could feel his own hands moving uselessly, frantically, at his sides. He was honest enough to know that this was largely his fault, and he couldn't bear it. Another loud thwap and Rodney winced. He remembered that his counterpart had told him that sometimes being spanked relaxed him and he wondered if maybe this wasn't as bad for him as it looked, but one glance at Rodney Sheppard's face disabused him of that notion. The other man was biting down on his lip, presumably to keep from embarrassing himself by crying out in front of an audience, but his face was flushed and he looked utterly miserable.

 

Rodney swallowed hard. He didn't want to witness this and he seemed powerless to stop it – so he edged slowly towards the door. He was nearly there when a hard voice rapped out.

 

"Stay right where you are, Dr McKay," the General commanded. Rodney stopped and turned, his heart in his mouth. "As you said, you provoked this so you can stay and see it through," the General told him. "This is his punishment – watching it can be yours."

 

 

 

Rodney looked over at Sheppard for help but the Colonel just gazed stonily back at him and gestured with his head that Rodney should stay where he was. Rodney took a deep breath, searching for a way out, but found none and realised he had no choice but to watch as the punishment continued. The General brought his strap down several times on his husband's ass, leaving a criss-cross pattern of red marks. Rodney winced with each stroke. It seemed to go on forever and Rodney didn't know where to look. He didn't want to look at Sheppard, because he seemed really pissed off with him right now but he didn't want to look at the General either, because there was such a darkly determined look on his face as he brought that strap down on his husband's ass that Rodney found it frankly alarming. Looking at his counterpart was even worse. The other Rodney's hands were wrapped around his husband's long legs to hold himself steady, and he gazed at Rodney blankly, his eyes registering the force of each hard stroke. Rodney longed for it to be over, while at the same time finding it horrifyingly, fascinatingly arousing. Finally the General stopped. He pulled his husband's pants back over his red ass, and swung him onto his feet again.

 

"That was the public part of your punishment. Now go back to our quarters, Rodney. I'm not done with you yet. We have some things to take care of in private," the General said. The other Rodney fastened his pants, gazing at the General's boots the entire time, and when the General finished talking he nodded and started walking. "Wait." The General put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him back. He took his husband's head between his hands and bestowed a firm kiss on his forehead, then released him and pushed him towards the door. The other Rodney kept his gaze fixed on the ground as he left. He didn't even look at Rodney as he passed him; he just hurried out of the door. The General fastened the strap back to its hook on his belt and then nodded at Sheppard.

 

"Colonel – I trust there won't be any need for you to mention this to Elizabeth. You know that Rodney has been punished – he couldn't stand being placed in your brig, even if only for a few days."

 

"I understand." Sheppard nodded. "I don't think Elizabeth needs to know about this. In fact, I don't think what happened here should leave this room."

 

"Agreed. Thank you," the General nodded. He turned and walked towards the door and Rodney found himself taking a couple of steps back, seriously scared of the other man right now. The General paused when he got to Rodney and gave him a disdainful look. "I hope my Rodney isn't the only one who learned a lesson here," he said.

 

Rodney bit on his lip and tasted blood from where it had been split earlier. "Sorry," he muttered again.

 

"Good," the General said, and then he swept from the room. Rodney gazed after him, utterly horrified.

 

"Oh shit," he whispered, turning back to Sheppard. "Man that was intense. Oh shit. Oh god."

 

Sheppard didn't say a word. He just stalked out of the room, ignoring Rodney completely. Rodney gazed after him for a moment, shocked, and then followed on behind him, running to catch up with him just as the other man reached the transporter.

 

"Colonel! John!" he cried out. Sheppard paused, his back to Rodney, every line in his body taut. "I'm sorry!" Rodney said pathetically when he caught up with him. "I had no idea he'd do that. I mean...how could I?"

 

Sheppard seemed to take a moment to visibly get control of himself and then he turned, and the expression on his face was so furious that Rodney shrank back, away from him.

 

"Rodney – right now, I really don't care. I suggest you go back to your room, or the lab, or wherever the hell you're headed, and think about your role in that little fiasco."

 

"My role? I know I provoked him but I had no idea he'd hit me!" Rodney protested.

 

"Really? Okay - what did you say to him?" Sheppard asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

Rodney flushed, when he remembered his accusation about whoring. "Okay...I wasn't very nice...but even so...he hit me! He hit me remember!" Rodney massaged his sore lip, scraping off some dried blood he found on his chin.

 

"Rodney, you've been spoiling for a fight with him since he arrived. Now, I don't know what your particular problem is with him but he's a nice guy so I suggest you sit down and have a good long think about it. Whatever is bothering you – figure it out, Rodney because I don't want anything like that to happen again. Understood?"

 

Rodney gazed at him, shocked, and found his mouth had gone completely dry. He wanted to argue and protest, but the expression on Sheppard's face was far too forbidding for him to even think about that so instead he just nodded, dumbly.

 

"Good. Now, if you'll excuse me." And with that Sheppard stepped into the transporter and was gone.

 

"Since when was he appointed the boss of me?" Rodney grumbled to himself as he walked down the hallway back to the lab. "I'm the Head of Science and this is primarily a civilian expedition. He's just here to protect us." He went into the lab and slammed the door shut behind him. His heart sank when he surveyed the debris in the lab. Things had been knocked over and broken in the tussle, and despite what the Colonel had said about keeping quiet about the events of the past half hour, the room itself told its own story. Rodney set about clearing things up, muttering to himself the entire time. The truth was that he felt desperately guilty about what had happened to his counterpart, and that feeling of guilt wasn't helped by the way Sheppard had just talked to him. Rodney finished clearing up the lab and then decided to head back to his quarters. He couldn't face doing any more work today and he really couldn't face seeing Radek and the rest of his team and putting a brave face on it and pretending nothing had happened – especially as his split lip would make it obvious just how much of a lie that was.

 

Rodney let himself into his room and went to his bathroom to gaze at himself in the mirror. His hair was askew from where the Colonel had restrained him and he had a little red bruise forming around his mouth. His lip was swollen and bleeding a little. Rodney took a handful of water and washed away the worst of the dried blood on his jaw and neck. He considered going to see Carson, but he really didn't want to answer any of the doctor's questions right now and the injury hardly looked serious, so instead he went back and threw himself down on his bed. He was still in a state of shock about what had happened and a dozen images kept rattling around inside his brain in an endless loop; his counterpart's pale, furious face when he'd finally pushed him too far; the way Sheppard had held him back with strong, forceful arms; the other Rodney's mutinous gaze as he glanced up at his husband through his eyelashes, still clearly furious. Then there had been the ease with which his counterpart had gone over the General's knee, without protestation, as if it was something he'd done on hundreds of previous occasions – which, Rodney supposed, he had. There had been something about the ease of his submission to his husband's authority though, that made Rodney tremble. He closed his eyes, trying to squeeze out the memory of that spanking but it haunted him. He knew he was aroused by it at the same time as hating himself for that very fact. He felt terrible for the other Rodney too and that made him feel even worse for in any way feeling aroused and he didn't understand his arousal in any case. But the image that stayed most in his mind was the way the General had kissed his husband before sending him back to their rooms. It was clear that despite the fact the other Rodney was in big trouble, and despite the fact the General had warned him that his punishment wasn't yet over - despite all that, the General was still holding out the promise of ultimate forgiveness. There was a big difference between that and the angry way in which things had been left between himself and Sheppard. Rodney stared up at the ceiling, feeling utterly wretched. He thought he'd actually prefer to be going through whatever the other Rodney was going through right now, if at the end of it he got to be forgiven, because at this moment in time he felt utterly and completely alone with his guilt.

 

~*~

 

Rodney Sheppard returned to his room and stood there for a moment, trying to catch his breath. He wondered if he should undress so he was ready for punishment when his husband returned, but John hadn't told him to do that and he was anxious not to do anything right now that would make the situation worse, so instead he just stood there, eyes down, waiting.

He still wasn't sure how he'd gotten into this position. It had been a very long time since John had looked at him the way he just had, or since Rodney had screwed up so publicly and spectacularly. This was like being back at the early days of their relationship, when they hadn't figured each other out, and when Rodney hadn't been sure what the limits were. Now he did know – and that made it worse because he had a full appreciation of just how much shit he was in right now.

 

The door opened but Rodney just continued to stand there, eyes down, unmoving. John stepped into the room, locked the door behind him, and then came to stand in front of his husband with a deep sigh. Rodney kept his gaze fixed on the floor.

 

"If that had happened back in our own universe then Elizabeth would have ordered you into the punishment room before your feet could touch the ground," John told him, in a hard, stern tone.

 

"I know. I'm sorry," Rodney said, in the general direction of his boots.

 

"Do you know what that means, Rodney? What that really means?" John demanded. "I'd have had to punish you in front of possibly the entire base and you know what I feel about that. All those people...looking at your bare ass," he growled.

 

"Well, you didn't seem to mind punishing me in front of people who were looking at my bare ass a few minutes ago," Rodney muttered rebelliously.

 

"Excuse me?" John took hold of his chin and pulled it up so that Rodney was looking at him.

 

"Nothing," Rodney said sullenly.

 

"That was damage limitation," John told him, his hazel eyes flashing. "You know their rules – I was trying to make sure you didn't end up in the brig." Rodney's heart did a little flip and he gazed at his husband anxiously.

 

"What? I...would they have done that?" he whispered, appalled.

 

"I don't know because these people are frankly weird, but it seemed like it was a distinct possibility after what happened in the mess hall the other night."

 

"I suppose so." Rodney took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "Oh god," he whispered.

 

"It's all right – I had a conversation with the Colonel after you left and he agreed that nobody would know what happened in there except for the four of us."

 

"Oh. Right. Good," Rodney said in relief. He was surprised to find that he was shaking just at the thought of the brig and John put his arms around him and held him.

 

"Okay. It's okay. Sssh. It's not going to happen," John told him, his hands soothing reassuring circles down his back. Rodney clung on for a moment, until he felt calmer.

 

"So - I'm still in trouble I take it?" Rodney asked into John's neck.

 

"Oh yeah," John replied, kissing the side of his face affectionately.

 

"I honestly am sorry. He was just being such a total bastard."

 

"I know. I guessed that much. If it's worth anything, I will say that he looked really shook up when I left. I felt kind of sorry for him."

 

"Don't," Rodney growled.

 

"He's so like you used to be – with all your faults and all your good points too. He was quick to take the blame and he was genuinely upset about what happened to you. He'd have done anything to save you that punishment."

 

"Well perhaps if the Colonel would just step up to the plate and tan *his* hide occasionally then things like this wouldn't happen. Plus, he'd be much nicer to be around."

 

John chuckled. "Maybe, but I have to say that doesn't seem to be the way things work around here." He kissed the side of Rodney's face again and then shifted. Rodney clung on for as long as was humanly possible. "You're just delaying the inevitable, Rodney," John told him.

 

"Hmmm, but I figure the delay is worth it," Rodney replied. John chuckled again but then pushed him back, more firmly this time. Rodney sighed, and gazed at his boots again. "You did already punish me," he reminded his husband.

 

"Yeah – but this was big, Rodney, you know that," John said. "I haven't seen you like this in a long time and that just tells me I've failed you as a top and as your husband."

 

"What?" Rodney glanced up in surprise.

 

"How did it get to this stage, Rodney? I thought I was taking care of it, keeping you grounded – and then I find you brawling?"

 

"You haven't failed me," Rodney said miserably.

 

"Look, Rodney, I know we're in a different universe but as far as I'm concerned the same old rules apply – and that means that if you act out I'm responsible. I knew that when we got married and I was happy to shoulder that responsibility in exchange for all the many benefits that also go with being your husband and your top." John gave him a wry grin. "So, if you're getting into fist fights then I'm doing something wrong."

 

"No you're not. It was my fault for letting McKay get under my skin."

 

"And my fault for not realising just how big an issue this was for you and dealing with it more thoroughly," John told him. "Now, I didn't enjoy punishing you just now and I sure as hell won't enjoy the punishment I'm going to give you in a moment so that'll be my retribution for not taking better care of you."

 

"This sounds bad," Rodney sighed.

 

"It isn't good," John replied, going over to the closet. "When I was on the mainland a few days ago I cut myself a switch," he said. Rodney's heart did an anxious flip. "I didn't think I'd actually need to use it – certainly not for real, but now I think I do," John said, opening the closet and retrieving a long, thin, whippy looking switch. Rodney took a deep, appalled breath.

 

"Please, John. I'm sorry," he said wretchedly.

 

"I know you are," John replied with a nod. "And I have already given you a good strapping but I think you deserve a thorough switching too. Imagine how I'd have felt if they put you in the brig, Rodney. And imagine if we'd been back home – do you think Elizabeth would have let you get away with less than a thorough caning for this?"

 

"No...but..." Rodney caught the flash in John's hazel eyes and bit back that protest. "No," he whispered.

 

"I really need this message to go home," John told him. "Because I can't keep you safe here, Rodney." He couldn't keep the note of worry out of his voice and Rodney's heart ached for him. "They don't understand us or our ways. People can touch you and apparently I'm supposed to just stand by and be fine with that – you don't get the protection your status should afford you and nobody respects my role in your life. Hell, they don't even *understand* my role in your life, even after we've explained over and over again."

 

"I know. That's partly why I threw that punch at McKay," Rodney said softly.

 

"So I need to keep you as safe as I can, Rodney, and if that means taking care of things so that you don't break any of their rules again then I'm happy to punish you long and hard until that message goes in."

 

Rodney nodded. "I understand," he muttered. "I was an idiot back there. There are other ways of dealing with McKay. I of all people should know that!"

 

"You should feel sorry for him rather than rising to his bait," John told him. "He's clearly struggling with some really hard issues right now."

 

"I know," Rodney said wryly. "Anyone can see that they're completely in love with each other and they're both single so what's all the denial about? I just wish I could bang their heads together, the pair of 'em," Rodney sighed, exasperated.

 

"It's not the same for them as it was for us. It's harder in this universe. Hopefully one day they'll figure it out but if not – it's not our responsibility, Rodney."

 

"I know," Rodney nodded.

 

"Our only responsibilities are to each other – you to me and me to you. That's what this means." John placed a finger on his pendant and Rodney felt the Kaeira flow lovingly between them. "And I'm not going to shirk those responsibilities, Rodney. You mean too much to me," John told him. He removed his finger and Rodney sighed, missing the contact already. "Get undressed, Rodney," John told him. "Then kneel on all fours at the end of the bed."

 

Rodney did what he was told, shaking slightly as he got undressed. John had never used a switch on him but he had caned him before, a long time ago, but only once, and he thought that had been bad enough. This was worse, far worse, because they were closer now than they'd been back then. A switch, like the cane, was a serious instrument of punishment, and Rodney knew that it would hurt like hell.

 

When he was naked, he took up the position John had indicated and tried to compose himself. His ass was already sore from the strapping but he knew he could take more and that John would make him take it in any case. There was a long silence and Rodney kept his gaze fixed on the sheets, trying to clear his mind. Then he felt the touch of the switch on his ass as John rested it there, taking aim, and he closed his eyes. He heard it first, before he felt it, and then a blaze of pain shot through his buttocks as the switch bit into his flesh. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Damn but that had hurt.

 

Another silence, another whistling sound and another wave of fire sweeping through his ass cheeks. Rodney gave a startled yelp at just how much it hurt and half rose on his haunches, more as a reflex action than anything else. John put a firm hand on his back and pushed him back down again.

 

"Hold still, Rodney, we're not done yet – not by a long shot," he said, in a grim voice. Rodney lowered his head, accepting. The next stroke elicited a shout of pure pain from him and by the fourth he was shaking hard with the effort of holding position when he wanted to do anything he could to evade the bite of that switch. John was absolutely implacable though, as he always was when delivering a punishment, and Rodney knew he wouldn't stop until he was completely satisfied that his husband had learned his lesson.

 

John delivered three more hard strokes before he was finally done, and by the time he finished Rodney was trembling in earnest. Then John put a hand on his shoulder and helped him off the bed. Rodney glanced over his shoulder to see seven very distinct and evenly spaced red lines on his already reddened ass.

 

"Damn thing hurts like hell," he told John as his husband drew him in for a stern but loving kiss.

 

"I know. You took it well though, Rodney. I'm proud of you," John told him. He drew back and escorted Rodney over to the wall. "Now take some time to think about everything that happened today," John told him. "When you're done, come to bed and I'll hold you."

 

Rodney nodded, and stood there silently. His bottom stung like crazy, waves of pain radiating out in little circles from the epicentre of each precisely delivered stroke, and he felt utterly miserable. John was right – their situation was precarious; they were stuck in a universe where nobody understood them – where people had a problem even accepting them, and they had to be as careful as possible. Things seemed so familiar here that he'd allowed himself to be lulled into a false sense of security. They were guests, visitors, and while it wasn't their fault that they were here, they still had to rely on the goodwill of these oddly familiar strangers. He'd been stupid – and self indulgent - in allowing McKay to get to him. He felt a lump rise in his throat at the thought that he might have been thrown into the brig. How would John have felt if that had happened? These people didn't understand how devastated John would have been by that – to be forcibly separated, to have other people take control of his husband, to have them imprison him against John's will and without his permission...these people didn’t have a clue how big a deal that was for them. If it had happened, John would have been distraught - and it would have been Rodney's fault. Rodney rested his hands against the wall and his head on his hands. The tears came slowly, leaking between the cracks in his fingers. He didn't move, or make a sound, just wept silently for a long time, until he was all cried out. He supposed he should go over to the bed as John had instructed, but he knew he didn't deserve to be held after what he'd done so he just stayed there.

 

Finally, after an hour or more had passed, he felt warm hands on his shoulders.

 

"That's long enough," John told him firmly, and he was turned around and led back to the bed and pushed beneath the sheets. He lay on his side and felt John slide in beside him and turn off the light, then an arm wrapped itself around his waist and he was pulled back against John's naked body. John kissed the back of his neck repeatedly and finally Rodney felt himself starting to relax.

 

"I know what'll help," John whispered. Rodney stifled a gasp as John moved, jostling Rodney's sore ass, and then John was back again and Rodney heard the pop of the lube tube. A few seconds later John's fingers slid carefully between his smarting butt cheeks. Rodney sighed and opened up to allow better access. He wasn't honestly in the mood to be fucked but if that was what John wanted then he was willing enough. John stretched him, slowly and purposefully, without any sense of sexual urgency, then withdrew his fingers and replaced them with his cock. He slid into Rodney carefully, tenderly, inch by inch, and came to rest, embedded deep within Rodney's ass. Then he wrapped his arm around Rodney and kissed the back of his neck again and Rodney realised that a fuck wasn't what John had in mind right now. Rodney floated away hazily. He never enjoyed being punished but he did always like the place he ended up in his head afterwards. His body felt heavy and drowsy; there were feel-good endorphins whizzing around in his bloodstream, and the familiar, beloved sensation of John's cock embedded in his ass.

 

"Go to sleep now," John told him, stroking Rodney's stomach gently with his fingertips. "I'll stay inside you."

 

Rodney closed his eyes with a contented sigh, feeling completely wrapped up in his husband's love. He knew John would be as good as his word. This wasn't about sex right now, it was about comfort, and John didn't intend to come – he was just going to stay inside Rodney until he slept. At some point he'd allow his cock to soften inside Rodney's body and during the night it would probably slip out, but right now, Rodney could feel it filling him, large and reassuring, reminding him that John was there, in him and with him, and that he was safe, and warm, and very, very much loved.

 

continued