John stalked through the Gate, skin feeling like it was stretched too tight over his bones. He needed to get out of his tac vest, out of his uniform, and into the shower. As soon as fucking possible.
“Colonel,” Sam said. “We need to –”
Teyla neatly cut in and started talking to her, subtly moving her in the opposite direction. John made a beeline for the transporter; whatever expression was on his face backing people off without him having to say anything. Ronon glared at anyone who was feeling brave enough to approach.
“Thanks,” John managed to get out through clenched teeth.
The door slid shut before almost immediately sliding back open again, depositing John not far from his doorstep. Once he was inside his quarters, he felt he could get a little of his breath back.
“What the hell happened?” Rodney asked. “You look like shit.”
“Later.”
John started shedding his clothes, making his way unerringly to the bathroom. The shower kicked on before he was even through the door, and he mentally adjusted it hotter than he normally liked. He stepped under the water, hissing a bit until he got used to the sting of it, and braced himself against the wall so the spray hit him right between the shoulder blades.
“Ronon said things went sideways,” Rodney said hesitantly, standing just outside the shower.
“How’s your hand?” John countered.
“My fingers are still broken, if that’s what you’re asking. They didn’t magically repair themselves while you were gone.”
The water, and Rodney’s familiar snarky tone, helped John let go of some of the tension in his shoulders. His jaw was sore from all the clenching.
There’d been an accident during some ‘jumper maintenance, and Rodney had broken two of the fingers on his dominant hand. Everyone had agreed he should hang back in Atlantis, that John, Teyla, and Ronon could handle what was supposed to be a milk run without him. If the mission had been first contact, they’d have stood down until Rodney was able to go with them.
Just a milk run. Was that even really a thing in Pegasus?
“Do you want me to come in? The hand’s been waterproofed, you know.”
Did John want Rodney to join him in the shower? Just five minutes ago he’d have said no.
“Yeah.”
Rodney didn’t waste any time shucking his clothes. He yelped when he got in, and John mentally turned the hot water down. Rodney burned easily.
“Are you trying to parboil yourself? It’s not a good look, you know.”
In the next moment Rodney was soaping John up, washing his back and shoulders with brisk, capable hands. No coddling. No caresses. For all that people complained how socially unaware he could be – and he really, really could – with John, Rodney always knew what to do.
John let out a deep breath and widened his stance as Rodney soaped up his thighs, his calves, his ass. There was nothing sensual about it, because that’s not what John needed. He needed to feel clean.
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Fill 1/2: Bonus Teyla, Ronon & Sam (Warning for mention of attempted non-con)
Date: 2021-08-13 12:32 am (UTC)“Colonel,” Sam said. “We need to –”
Teyla neatly cut in and started talking to her, subtly moving her in the opposite direction. John made a beeline for the transporter; whatever expression was on his face backing people off without him having to say anything. Ronon glared at anyone who was feeling brave enough to approach.
“Thanks,” John managed to get out through clenched teeth.
The door slid shut before almost immediately sliding back open again, depositing John not far from his doorstep. Once he was inside his quarters, he felt he could get a little of his breath back.
“What the hell happened?” Rodney asked. “You look like shit.”
“Later.”
John started shedding his clothes, making his way unerringly to the bathroom. The shower kicked on before he was even through the door, and he mentally adjusted it hotter than he normally liked. He stepped under the water, hissing a bit until he got used to the sting of it, and braced himself against the wall so the spray hit him right between the shoulder blades.
“Ronon said things went sideways,” Rodney said hesitantly, standing just outside the shower.
“How’s your hand?” John countered.
“My fingers are still broken, if that’s what you’re asking. They didn’t magically repair themselves while you were gone.”
The water, and Rodney’s familiar snarky tone, helped John let go of some of the tension in his shoulders. His jaw was sore from all the clenching.
There’d been an accident during some ‘jumper maintenance, and Rodney had broken two of the fingers on his dominant hand. Everyone had agreed he should hang back in Atlantis, that John, Teyla, and Ronon could handle what was supposed to be a milk run without him. If the mission had been first contact, they’d have stood down until Rodney was able to go with them.
Just a milk run. Was that even really a thing in Pegasus?
“Do you want me to come in? The hand’s been waterproofed, you know.”
Did John want Rodney to join him in the shower? Just five minutes ago he’d have said no.
“Yeah.”
Rodney didn’t waste any time shucking his clothes. He yelped when he got in, and John mentally turned the hot water down. Rodney burned easily.
“Are you trying to parboil yourself? It’s not a good look, you know.”
In the next moment Rodney was soaping John up, washing his back and shoulders with brisk, capable hands. No coddling. No caresses. For all that people complained how socially unaware he could be – and he really, really could – with John, Rodney always knew what to do.
John let out a deep breath and widened his stance as Rodney soaped up his thighs, his calves, his ass. There was nothing sensual about it, because that’s not what John needed. He needed to feel clean.