Breathless

John should have seen it coming. Rodney had been on edge, more so than was usual, even for him. Relentlessly focused, Rodney had watched John's every move with enzyme-enhanced intensity, so it shouldn't have been a surprise when he leaned in and whispered, "I need," his hand sliding down John's chest.

"What the hell?" Startled, John put his hands on Rodney's shoulders and pushed. "I thought there was some equipment you wanted me to look at--"

Rodney pushed back, knocking John against the storeroom wall with his newfound strength. "Please Colonel--I need--this is what I need," he said brokenly.

What Rodney needed, John thought, was not to be on the enzyme, even this supposedly "dialed down" dose, because this couldn't possibly be what Rodney needed. What Rodney needed was to be able to think clearly, to have his mind clear and sound, and to finish repairs on that dart so they could all escape from this month-long nightmare.

And what John needed was for Rodney to stop groping him, to stop running big wide hands across his chest and down over his stomach. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked, trying to imbue his voice with a reasonable facsimile of heterosexual disgust.

Rodney's hands worked their way up to John's face, cupping it and holding it steady. "Just let me have this, just this once," he asked, eyes unnaturally bright

"No, Rodney." Panic rose up in John, because Rodney knew somehow, damn it Rodney must have figured him out. He yanked Rodney's hands away and shoved hard. "We're going to pretend this never happened, okay?"

Rodney fell back, momentarily off balance. John tried to dodge past him and make his get-away. But there wasn't enough room, the shelves were in his way and he wasn't quick enough to defeat Rodney's new super-fast reflexes. Rodney's arm shot out, going around John's waist, stopping him in his tracks. John struggled, but he wasn't strong enough. He stumbled backward as Rodney wrapped his other arm around pulled. "Oh god, this is good," Rodney sighed, hugging him.

"No, it is not good," John told him through gritted teeth. Rodney squeezed him so tight he couldn't breathe. His body crushed up against Rodney's solid frame, his back to Rodney's chest, his ass pressed against Rodney's hips, and Rodney's cock--Rodney's erect and ready cock--digging into him. John tried again, pulling at Rodney's arms, even kicking Rodney in the shin, but only made things worse. Rodney laughed a little, holding him tighter, breath quickening as if he was having the most fun ever.

"No, no, you want this too," Rodney said, voice low in John's ear.

John didn't want it. He didn't want to want it. "Rodney, Rodney, listen, now is really not a good time," he said. Short of seriously hurting Rodney, he couldn't break free, so he tried for reasonable. As reasonable as he could be, with his heart racing and his own cock hardening. "You said the dart is almost ready, right? So, not a good time."

"No, no, see, that's where you're wrong." Rodney rubbed his cock against John's ass. "This really is a good time," A great time."

"Let's just stop and think about this for a minute," John said with a calm he did not feel.

"No, no, no, I'm always thinking too much." Rodney pressed his lips against John's neck. "No more thinking. Just sex, okay?"

So much for reasonable. "Rodney, stop it, right now," John ordered. "Let me go."

Rodney bit his neck.

"Rodney," John said, less forcefully. He didn't need this. Not now, not ever, it was too fucking dangerous no matter where they were. He didn't need to find this out about Rodney, either. Although he supposed he had always known, had been aware of Rodney's overflowing mess of emotions. He couldn't kid himself. It drew him like a moth to a flame.

John had to leave, right now. He had to get as far away from Rodney, get as far away from the temptation, as possible.

Except Rodney was biting at his neck and pushing his cock into John's ass, his arms clamped like iron around his body. The situation was deteriorating; Rodney showed no sign of letting go. And maybe, John thought, he shouldn't. With Rodney full of enzyme-induced agitation and horniness, maybe letting him get off wasn't such a bad idea. John didn't want him storming off frustrated, making moves on the first guy he came across, or worse yet, making a move on Teyla, because no way would that end well.

Though John was pretty sure a certain smirky blond scientist would be all too eager to get on his knees for Rodney and that was not going to happen, not if John could help it.

"Okay, okay, Rodney." John attempted to twist around in Rodney's arms. "Change in plans. We'll do this, but we do it my way. Just keep the hell quiet." He couldn't believe he was saying it, it was crazy, but so was being held hostage by a drugged up marine and his merry men, who wanted to launch an offensive on a hive ship, for god's sake.

Rodney spun John around easily, as if he weighed nothing, and then crushed his mouth to John's in a fierce kiss. John tried to break away but one big hand clamped down on the back of his head, holding him in place, forcing him to withstand the wildly desperate mouth. Rodney grabbed hold of his ass, pulling him in until their cocks rubbed together and then John was the one moaning pitifully.

John managed to keep it together enough to work one hand down between them, undoing Rodney's pants. A quick blow-job was the safest bet, clean and neat. It wouldn't take long, not with Rodney so worked up. John felt a surge of excitement at the thought--Rodney's hard, sleek cock sliding into his mouth, just like his tongue was. It was something John only let himself think about late at night, when the city was still, when the only sounds were of the sea outside his window and the slip-slide of his own hands on his cock.

John unbuttoned Rodney's pants. Entirely contrary, Rodney's hands immediately went to John's pants, and he murmured, "Yes, yes, yes," into John's mouth.

"No," John insisted, pushing Rodney's hands away. He sank down, kneeling on the dirt floor, but Rodney followed, reaching for John's pants again. When John tried to stop him, Rodney smacked him in the chest, opened-handed. John fell back, the wind knocked out of him and before he could scramble away his pants were open and pulled down past his hips. Shaken, gasping for breath, John tried to bat away Rodney's hands and pull up his pants, but Rodney climbed on top of him, pushing his shirt up and biting at his chest.

This was all wrong, this was <i>not</i> what John had in mind, but then Rodney's mouth closed over a nipple and John had no mind left at all. Just pure, raw pleasure, taking over his body and Rodney's hot, wet mouth doing just what John always wanted it to do.

The floor was cold on his naked ass but Rodney was hot, and when Rodney slid up John's body, pulling his own shirt up so that their chests rubbed together, John moaned, his body on fire. He grabbed onto Rodney's shoulders, pulling Rodney down, letting Rodney's weight pin him to the floor. It was wildly exciting, and wrong, wrong, wrong. And damn it, being overpowered should not be such a turn on. Rodney pushed John's legs apart and it got even better. John's cock slid between Rodney's thighs, and Rodney's cock pushed wetly against his hip.

A gasp of delight and Rodney's face lit up with wonder, so much that it hurt to see, so John closed his eyes, giving up, letting go, letting Rodney do what he wanted. He could give Rodney this, at least.

He thrust up with his hips and Rodney shoved back down with brutal force, putting his weight behind it as his cock slid over John's skin. Over and over, Rodney mindlessly shoved and pushed, relentless friction pulling the pleasure from John's body. John spread his legs and planted his feet flat on the ground, thrusting hard as if to throw Rodney off. It incited Rodney to push harder and faster as he held John down, fingers tangled painfully in John's hair.

"Rodney," John growled, but then Rodney hit on the perfect rhythm, squeezing John's cock, rubbing it in all the right places, driving John over the edge. John came, sharp and sweet, his fingers digging into Rodney's ass as he muffled his cry against Rodney's shoulder.

"Oh wow, oh wow," Rodney panted. "You just--oh god--" He shoved against John even more excitedly, grinding his cock into John's hip. His breath stuttered and his body seized up. The force his orgasm shook his body, and John held him tightly, wetness spreading between them before Rodney finally collapsed down on top of him with a groan, his body a heavy, motionless weight.

John stared up at the ceiling in the following silence, trying to catch his breath. He was crazy. Rodney was crazy, but he was on the crazy-making enzyme, so what was John's excuse?

All he knew was that they had to get the hell of this planet. And that now was no time for post-coital cuddling.

"Rodney, move." John shoved at Rodney's still body. "Now."

"Mmm, yeah, moving." Rodney rolled off and then sat up, dazed. Sweat trickled down the side of his face.

John immediately missed the warmth and weight of his body. "I hope you have something to clean this up with," he said, sitting up.

"Um," Rodney said, his worried expression matching the worry in John's heart. He dug into his jacket pocket and produced a rag. "Here."

John took the rag and swiped at his stomach, while Rodney found a second rag and cleaned himself up. They buttoned up their pants in silence, a silence that John found both relieving and extremely discomforting. "Rodney," he started.

Rodney stood, then backed away from John. "I'm sorry, okay? It was the enzyme, it does things to me, I couldn't think straight, I--I--"

"Was it just the enzyme?"

Rodney searched John's tense face, as if the correct answer was hidden there. "No?" His face crumbled. "Yes, okay, yes it was, if that's what you want it to be, if that will make this all right and nothing is going to make this all right, is it?"

John wanted to reach out to him, wanted to gather him up in his arms and tell him everything was okay. He wanted to lick the sweat from Rodney's face, then bury his own face between Rodney's legs and start things all over again.

He sighed, rubbing his face, disgusted with himself. "I just need you to go, okay?" It came out harsher than he intended. "Just finish with the god damn dart and we can deal with this when we get out of here."

Rodney's eyes widened further. "Deal with? Okay, going. I--I just--" he waved his hands helplessly, then dropped them down to his sides. "Never mind. Going."

Damn it. "Wait," John said, scrambling to his feet and going after him. He couldn't leave it like this, couldn't bear to have Rodney walk away with that stricken look on his face. Grabbing Rodney by the shirt collar, John leaned in and kissed him.

It took Rodney a split second to kiss him back, but when he did it was tentative and startlingly sweet. John wanted to linger over it for hours. When he pulled back Rodney still looked confused but thankfully less distraught.

"Oh." Rodney took a deep breath. "Okay. I see."

"I'm glad one of us does," John said, with a sudden weariness.

Rodney nodded. "No, I don't really, I just--we just--we just had sex," he said, as if he had no idea how it could have happened.

"And I have the bruises to prove it." At Rodney's panicked look he held up a hand and added, "No, no, actually that's okay. Really okay." A glimmer of a smile on Rodney's face and John's stomach fluttered excitedly in return. Before John could incriminate himself any further he insisted, "Now go. I'll wait a bit. And just--just be careful, okay?"

Rodney nodded again. "Right. I'll go first," he said. "Carefully. We're almost done, you know. Another day, maybe less." He hesitated; staring at John before turning and leaving the room, walking with a quick, lively step.

John watched him leave, then shoved his hands in his pockets, breathing deep, trying to calm his racing heart.

*****

It was less than a day. Later that afternoon, John found himself in the seat of the repaired wraith dart, freedom so close he could taste it. And not a moment too soon--first Rodney going after him in the stockroom, then Ronon and Teyla going at each other dining room--everyone was losing it. John's ribs ached, his jaw hurt, and all he wanted to do was get his people the hell off this planet and off the enzyme. He listened as Rodney nervously explained the dart's heads-up display, pointing out the computer tablet with the translations. John didn't feel particularly sanguine about controlling the dart, but hell, whatever it took to get out of there.

Ford leaned in, interrupting them. "I knew you could do it," he told Rodney. "Right on time. Kanayo's gonna get you suited up. You should get ready."

Rodney exchanged a look with John. "Right." He backed down the ladder, eyes on John.

"Seems a little nervous," Ford commented.

John stared at the wraith controls, giving nothing away. "You know McKay -- he'll be fine."

"You know how to dial the D.H.D. on this thing?"

"The address is memorized," John told him. He willed Ford to stop talking, because god, Ford was going to do something stupid, and John was not going to take on an entire hive ship, no matter what Ford said or did.

"Good, good." Ford glanced at Rodney. "Listen, I should probably tell you, uh, there's been a slight change of plans.

"Oh yeah?"

The guns and weapons came out, and Ford's men grabbed Rodney.

"What the hell are you doing?" John asked.

With a maddeningly smug smile, Ford said, "McKay's gonna stay here while we do the op."

John watched as they dragged Rodney away, listening to Rodney's fading protestations. He should have seen it coming, that Ford would somehow find the one way to ensure his cooperation. John's chest tightened.

There was no escape. They were going to the hive ship. All of them.

Except Rodney.

John couldn't breathe.

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