Decreasing Radii by cathalin (Adult)
Mar. 13th, 2008 10:30 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
wickedwords.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
stargateficrecRec Category: John Sheppard/Rodney McKay
Pairing: John Sheppard/Rodney McKay
Category: Slash, angst, amtdi (aliens make them do it), first time
Spoilers: Through 'Outcast' (4x16)
Warnings: Aliens Make Them Do It (noncon overtones)
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cathalin
Author's Website: Stargate Atlantis tag on her LJ
Link: Decreasing Radii
Why This Must Be Read:
John Sheppard is on the wrong side of adolescence for this to be termed a 'coming of age' story, yet essentially, that's what this story is: the repeated clash of John's true needs, wants and desires with how he feels he has to present himself provides the crux of the story. Oh, it's dressed up in science fiction, with aliens that make them do it, and a bond that is forced on both Rodney and John, but it's really the story of John coming to terms with a part of himself that he wishes did not exist. The emotions are real and personal, showing all the conflict that John goes through that he doesn't want people to see. The story does a great job of showing how isolated John is from what he is feeling, and what he will do to maintain the image he feels has to maintain--until Rodney is involved. That's when John knows that something has to change, and his struggle is wonderful --and painful-- to watch.
Partway through the briefing that evening, John looked down and discovered that his hand had reached out, without him even being aware of it, and his fingers were firmly wrapped around Rodney’s wrist. Their hands were hidden under the table, and only Keller and Sam and Teyla and Ronon were there, but – god. Rodney turned to look at him, his expression unreadable, and John wrenched his hand away. He closed his eyes against the wash of pain, heard Rodney’s little gasp next to him. Through the sharp ache, he could hear Sam telling everyone all about it, about cell expansion and decreasing radii and the implications.
Some part of him, angry and dark and reckless, wanted to throw it all back at them, challenge the studiously tolerant looks on their faces. Fuck it – they all knew about it anyway. He reached out and encircled Rodney’s wrist again, still under the table, but brazenly, radiating fuck-yous to the staff sitting around the table. Rodney stiffened when he made contact, but didn’t pry himself loose. See, he told himself. You can touch people just fine. No problem.
“So we need everyone in Atlantis to understand that they have to stay in contact at this point,” Keller was saying.
“Yes, because I need more humiliation in my life. I think we should announce it over everyone’s headsets right now. And be sure to put in there about how we have to sleep in the same – the same room,” Rodney snapped. John’s body, already tense, stiffened even more, and he felt Rodney throw him a sideways glance.
Keller pursed her lips. “We need people to understand that it’s not just a matter of bearing pain.” She looked straight at John. “It’s a matter of cellular harm, at least potentially. There is no choice. Until we can fix this, they have to minimize the damage.” She scanned the group at the table, then returned her gaze to John, then Rodney. “In whatever way necessary. Do I make myself clear?”
“Clear as mud,” John muttered, not missing the fact that Rodney was turning an unattractive shade of red. John’s stomach was so twisted up now he felt light-headed, and there was a tightness in his chest he knew wasn’t from the pain.
“Right, well, I for one am going to continue to search for the origin of this – this thing,” Rodney huffed, standing up suddenly, losing contact with John. He staggered and clutched the edge of the table, then gritted his teeth. “Are you coming?” he asked John.
“Not much choice,” John muttered, following behind Rodney as closely as possible without actually touching. Sweat was breaking out all over his body from the pain now, the lack of physical contact making it almost impossible to move. Rodney was breathing hard in front of him. As they tumbled onto the transporter, both of them reached for each other at the same time, hands tangling clumsily until they figured it out, Rodney’s hand encircling John’s wrist this time.
The relief was instant.
“What happens when this gets worse?” Rodney asked, voice rising on every word.
“Rodney,” John said. He could hear the steel in his own voice. He didn’t want to talk about it, he just didn’t. The relief caused by the absence of pain was counterbalanced by his anger. It felt like something inside him was tightening, tightening, compacting everything that was him, that was his own, into a tighter and tighter space.
“Fine. Denial is fine with me right now. Fine,” Rodney replied, moving a fraction closer to John, setting John’s teeth on edge even more.
Pairing: John Sheppard/Rodney McKay
Category: Slash, angst, amtdi (aliens make them do it), first time
Spoilers: Through 'Outcast' (4x16)
Warnings: Aliens Make Them Do It (noncon overtones)
Author on LJ:
cathalinAuthor's Website: Stargate Atlantis tag on her LJ
Link: Decreasing Radii
Why This Must Be Read:
John Sheppard is on the wrong side of adolescence for this to be termed a 'coming of age' story, yet essentially, that's what this story is: the repeated clash of John's true needs, wants and desires with how he feels he has to present himself provides the crux of the story. Oh, it's dressed up in science fiction, with aliens that make them do it, and a bond that is forced on both Rodney and John, but it's really the story of John coming to terms with a part of himself that he wishes did not exist. The emotions are real and personal, showing all the conflict that John goes through that he doesn't want people to see. The story does a great job of showing how isolated John is from what he is feeling, and what he will do to maintain the image he feels has to maintain--until Rodney is involved. That's when John knows that something has to change, and his struggle is wonderful --and painful-- to watch.
Partway through the briefing that evening, John looked down and discovered that his hand had reached out, without him even being aware of it, and his fingers were firmly wrapped around Rodney’s wrist. Their hands were hidden under the table, and only Keller and Sam and Teyla and Ronon were there, but – god. Rodney turned to look at him, his expression unreadable, and John wrenched his hand away. He closed his eyes against the wash of pain, heard Rodney’s little gasp next to him. Through the sharp ache, he could hear Sam telling everyone all about it, about cell expansion and decreasing radii and the implications.
Some part of him, angry and dark and reckless, wanted to throw it all back at them, challenge the studiously tolerant looks on their faces. Fuck it – they all knew about it anyway. He reached out and encircled Rodney’s wrist again, still under the table, but brazenly, radiating fuck-yous to the staff sitting around the table. Rodney stiffened when he made contact, but didn’t pry himself loose. See, he told himself. You can touch people just fine. No problem.
“So we need everyone in Atlantis to understand that they have to stay in contact at this point,” Keller was saying.
“Yes, because I need more humiliation in my life. I think we should announce it over everyone’s headsets right now. And be sure to put in there about how we have to sleep in the same – the same room,” Rodney snapped. John’s body, already tense, stiffened even more, and he felt Rodney throw him a sideways glance.
Keller pursed her lips. “We need people to understand that it’s not just a matter of bearing pain.” She looked straight at John. “It’s a matter of cellular harm, at least potentially. There is no choice. Until we can fix this, they have to minimize the damage.” She scanned the group at the table, then returned her gaze to John, then Rodney. “In whatever way necessary. Do I make myself clear?”
“Clear as mud,” John muttered, not missing the fact that Rodney was turning an unattractive shade of red. John’s stomach was so twisted up now he felt light-headed, and there was a tightness in his chest he knew wasn’t from the pain.
“Right, well, I for one am going to continue to search for the origin of this – this thing,” Rodney huffed, standing up suddenly, losing contact with John. He staggered and clutched the edge of the table, then gritted his teeth. “Are you coming?” he asked John.
“Not much choice,” John muttered, following behind Rodney as closely as possible without actually touching. Sweat was breaking out all over his body from the pain now, the lack of physical contact making it almost impossible to move. Rodney was breathing hard in front of him. As they tumbled onto the transporter, both of them reached for each other at the same time, hands tangling clumsily until they figured it out, Rodney’s hand encircling John’s wrist this time.
The relief was instant.
“What happens when this gets worse?” Rodney asked, voice rising on every word.
“Rodney,” John said. He could hear the steel in his own voice. He didn’t want to talk about it, he just didn’t. The relief caused by the absence of pain was counterbalanced by his anger. It felt like something inside him was tightening, tightening, compacting everything that was him, that was his own, into a tighter and tighter space.
“Fine. Denial is fine with me right now. Fine,” Rodney replied, moving a fraction closer to John, setting John’s teeth on edge even more.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}