Log in

No account? Create an account
04 September 2006 @ 08:52 pm
John/Wraith, slash, NC-17, Part II "Simple Truths"  
Author:  SylvanWitch
Title:  Simple Truths
Pairing:  John/Wraith
Rating:  NC-17
Category:  Angst, Episode-related, H/C
Disclaimer:  They aren't mine because if they were, they'd be having a LOT more fun with each other.
Author's notes:  See part I.

“Are you unwell, John Sheppard?  Do you feel any ill effects from our joining?”


John’s head rocked back and forth against the cold stone as he said, “No.  No, I’m good.” 


And he was.  He stopped banging his head and focused on a point across the cell.  He was alive, albeit a little older, but that was, purportedly, a temporary thing.  He had just had a mind-blowing total-body climax.  And they were one step closer to fooling their captors and paying that Genii bastard back for all the pain and suffering he’d put John and his people through.


So what was he complaining about—that Dave gave him the ride of his life?


John shook his head.  It wasn’t that simple. 


Dave—a Wraith—had made him feel a pleasure so powerful he’d actually stopped breathing in the wake of it.  And now they were engaged in a post-coital chat that made Sheppard’s role in this little tete-a-tete very clear—he was the wife, not Dave.  Absurd as the notion had started out being, it brought to light one very significant fact:  bring Dave back to Atlantis for a quick hitch, and it would be John doing the cooking and cleaning, having the headache, polishing Dave’s boots.


God, John, are you really that petty? 


Could it be that John was freaked out not by the sudden revelation that he could find pleasure in another man—male, he corrected—,not at the discovery that it was a Wraith that could bow his spine in a parabola of pleasure, but at the fact that John was the submissive partner in this little survival dance?


“Huh,” he said aloud, and he heard Dave shifting at the bars above him.


So I guess I am just that shallow.


Taking a deep breath, John levered himself slowly to his feet, feeling an age he hadn’t yet achieved, chronologically speaking, and suddenly having a lot more sympathy for General O’Neill and his bad knees. 


“Is there any way we can avoid the whole not-breathing thing?”  John asked, like he might say, “Got any ideas about the weather topside?”  or “So who do you like in the game Sunday?”  He’d be damned if he’d let shallow interfere with their chances of survival; there would be plenty of time for complications and self-recrimination later.


“I can moderate the degree of pleasure you experience, if that is what you wish.  But you must not struggle to release your life-force; that you must still offer openly and willingly.”


Right.  Open and willing.  Vulnerable.


Shifting his weight a little as though having to accommodate something heavy on his shoulders, John considered that he was learning first-hand what it meant to be the woman beneath him when they made love, open and offering, out of control in a way that John had never been in the position—literally or otherwise—to experience. 


I have to trust him to know when to stop. 


John shifted in place again, and Dave said in a low voice, “Do you have any pain?”


John shook his head absentmindedly, “No.”


Then, like an afterthought, “How do you know when to stop?”


Dave’s tone suggested he did not believe John’s casual introduction of the question.  “Instinct and experience, John.  Remember that I am many years older than you.  This is not the first time I have done this.”


And could I feel any more like the fumbling teenager in this relationship?


But John looked up, caught Dave’s gaze, held it.  “How old are you, anyway?”


The smile seemed less predatory now that John knew what it might mean, what it could mean:  pleasure—the thought thrummed through him and he had to shift once more.


“We do not count time in the same way that humans do, but I believe that my age converts to two and one-half thousand of your years.”


John whistled admiringly and then gave Dave a sharp look.  “How do you know how we measure time?”


“Of course we have studied our food, John.  And we have…acolytes.”


“Oh, right, right.  Wraith worshippers.  Can’t forget your little devotees.”  And if there was something bitter and self-denigrating in the remark, they both chose to overlook its implications.


“You have met some of our Helpers, then?”


“Yeah.”  Tersely.  This wasn’t something he would discuss with the enemy.  Although come to that, John was having a hard time discerning enemy from friend.  He had, after all, made a pact with the devil against another human in order to escape and destroy said human.


Sometimes simple is better.


The third session was just as mind-blowing, but he didn’t stop breathing, and John guessed from Kolya’s horrified look that Dave’s work must have been effective.  The colonel certainly felt considerably less spry as the guards led him gingerly—like I might break—back to the cells once more.


The difference was obvious, too, in the fact that John could not get up from the floor under his own power, preferring to lie on his side, staring up at the lighter space of the cell window, waiting for Dave’s face to appear.


When it did, John had to stifle a gasp.  The change was breathtaking.  The lines of hunger had been smoothed away, years pared from Dave’s flesh like a woodcutter carves away the rough bark to get at the smooth center of a prized piece.  Even the dark demarcations of the tattoo were richer in the half-light of their dim cells, and the teeth, gleaming like a beacon, shone brighter than before.  Only Dave’s hair remained the same, matted and tangled, but John supposed there was little the wraith could do about hair care in this place.


Never a stylist when you need one.  John snorted and then sobered.  


Despite the after-effects of having been prematurely aged, the pleasure he’d gotten still swam through him lazily, sending sparks to his extremities and leaving his eyes at half-mast. 


He gave Dave a slow smile.


“Almost there,” he observed, and Dave gave him a nod. 


“You are well, Sheppard?”


“Oh, yeah,” he drawled, smile expanding.  “I am co-pa-cetic.”  And maybe a little stoned.


Dave laughed.  “Sleep now.  You’ll need your strength.”


John slipped into the dark stream and let it carry him off.


He awoke when they dragged him from his cell for what was to be the last time, one way or another.  Dave’s graceful motions coincided with John’s own less coordinated efforts, but they succeeded in subduing the guards.


John had to look away as Dave forced the life from the Genii, knowing what that felt like, feeling guilty for having a different perspective.  He shrugged it away as Dave turned with a vicious smile and motioned John onward.


After that, everything was kaleidoscopic, all flashes of color and light, and John couldn’t say when or how Dave had been shot, what had led them to the escape route they had chosen, who it was that they had killed along the way.  All he knew was that they were bursting into blessed light above the underground bunker, both of them gasping in the clean air, lungs sore with exertion, pulses pounding with adrenaline rush and then the big come-down.


John looked at Dave, “You okay?” got a nod in response.


When the Wraith suggested that he feed again from John, John was emphatic in his refusal.  He turned away from the shadow of hurt that flitted across Dave’s face.  He was sure he was imagining it, anyway.


He didn’t want to tell Dave that the pleasure might incapacitate him, that he needed to be clear-headed if they were going to get to the gate and be finally free.


What became perfectly clear a little further on was that they were lost and Dave was dying.  John felt a frisson of fear slide up his spine at the thought of it; he didn’t want Dave to die. 


He tried to tell himself that it would serve no one’s purposes if the wraith died before he could give John back the life-force that he’d taken.  He wheedled himself into thinking of Dave as a convenience, his life-raft.  But John knew in some less-simple part of himself that he admired Dave, respected his efforts to save them both, maybe even empathized with his hunger.


Sighing, he said, “Okay, new plan.”


When Dave took the final draught of life from John, it was on a wave of all-consuming pleasure that flooded John until he drowned in it.  Back arched, hips thrusting upward for an incomplete fulfillment, shrieking to the empty skies, John gave and gave and gave, until Dave turned away from him with the merest whisper, “I’ll return,” and John lost consciousness.


When he recovered sight and sound once more, Dave was bending over him, baring John’s chest and saying, “Take what you will.”  There was a reverence in his voice that made John focus, brought his eyes wide open to look deeply into Dave’s own.


The hand was gentle on his chest, for the place was raw, and for a moment Dave’s free hand ghosted again over John’s cheek, along his throat, across shoulder and chest, downward, downward.


And without the thrall as an excuse, before Dave had begun to give back what he had taken, John gave assent, let the long fingers open him, wrap around his shaft and bring it to hardness.  His breath was labored in his sunken chest, his skin sagging around his eyes, and John could only imagine what he must look like, envisioning the wrecked husks of other men he’d seen, of Sumner gasping his last, eyes milky with age.  Only he was animate and consenting, not a victim at all, waiting in wonder for what came next.


One part of John responded immediately, and as Dave let the life trickle into him with the hand at his open wound, warming John and filling him, so did the wraith’s other hand make John warm, make him fill with life, with an aching want that the human could not name, that he had no words for. 


The trickle became a steady stream, and John sucked in a deep breath, feeling an elasticity where before there had been only brittle need, and an expansion of self until he felt Dave’s need, too, Dave’s desire to return to John what he’d taken. 


The hand at his chest was an intimate caress, the hand at his shaft an insistent one, and then Dave was bending over him, stroking his inner thigh, urging him open, and as the stream became a river, a flood of life filling him, Dave’s mouth wrapped hot and wet around John’s shaft, and he shouted his pleasure, feeling the cycle of life through his heart, filling his belly, his core where his Chi coiled, and into his shaft, which he thrust upward into Dave’s willing mouth. 


Every part of him alive with a knowledge he could never express, not even in the wordless cries that poured from his open mouth, which gabbled at air for breath, John arched and came, arched and came, and Dave sucked down his willing life even as he pushed it back into John’s heart with a hand that felt like it was touching him in a place so hidden John had never known he owned it.


How long it went on like that, John didn’t know, except that when it ended, it was abrupt, and he found himself whining for a return of the hot hand at his chest, the hot mouth at his member.  He should be spent, but he was full, full to overflowing with a vivid energy he could almost see.


And then John heard familiar noises in the woods, and while Dave was busy at John’s fly, the colonel struggled to gather words again from the shattered pieces of his human understanding.


He could not remember what he shouted, except that it worked.  Dave stood, unharmed, and gave John a long look, and John nodded so that only Dave knew, casually stunned him, and then turned to face his human friends, dreading that he might find in their faces a mirror of the shame he did not—could not, would not—feel. 


He would be human for them, in thanks for the worry that wore their faces to sharp angles.  But a part of him, he knew, was wraith.  He couldn’t explain how he knew, wouldn’t tell any of them even if he could. 


One word echoed in his head:  Brother. 


Could they live as brothers?  Could there be a lasting peace between them? 


For the crowd of uniforms at his back, John mouthed bravado about bets, knowing it was too simple an answer.  In his deepest part, the one that Dave had found and touched, the human knew he could never kill the wraith who had given him life, who had risked his own life to save John’s, world-altering, planet-shifting orgasms aside.  There was a point of honor here.


He called me “brother.”


So John fought through Ronon’s angry disbelief, Rodney’s panicked assertions, Elizabeth’s careful cautions, and won a final duet for the two of them, the cloaked jumper landing silently on the Wraith world, darts whining high overhead.


Dave regained consciousness almost at once, leading John to believe the wraith had been faking it. 


“Are we alone?”


“You know we are,” John answered, smiling and stepping away from the cloaked jumper with its hatch wide open to the night.


“I see,” Dave said, staring up at the familiar sky and then down at John’s P-90.


They repeated the pattern of words meant to ensure the line between enemies would never again blur.


Neither believed it, and John was tempted to step forward into Dave’s outstretched hand, to let him touch that secret place once more.


Keep it simple, stupid, John thought, instead stepping into the hidden hatchway of the jumper.


“Goodbye, Dave,” he called softly as he moved to close the door.


If he heard, “Goodbye, my brother,” before the hatch hissed shut, John did not let it complicate the familiar formula of flight.


Lauriellauriel01 on September 5th, 2006 11:58 am (UTC)
Wow! Definitely a different take on CG! I don't necessarily agree with the entire POV, but I love the way John periodically questions his emotional attatchment then pushes it aside due to the immediacy of the events he's caught up in. Very well written!
sylvanwitchsylvanwitch on September 7th, 2006 04:13 am (UTC)
Thank you so much! I was afraid, frankly, that I'd be flamed off the boards, so to speak, for even daring to suggest such an idea, and I'm very pleased with your reasonable and kind response to it. Again, thank you for commenting!
Lauriellauriel01 on September 7th, 2006 05:56 am (UTC)
I would hope you wouldn't be flamed for your creativity! That would be terrible. You write incredibly well. IMHO it didn't squick, and you presented this really well; so the emotions were the main focus. I'm glad you decided to share it. :D
Alialipeeps on September 5th, 2006 03:47 pm (UTC)
That... was absolutely awesome. A very different take on the idea but WOW, incredibly well written! Your prose is eloquent and lyrical, beautifully descriptive without beng obvious. The premise of the fic is radical and very intruiging and so well executed.

Your use of metaphor and description is just a joy - I adore phrases such as "the worry that wore their faces to sharp angles". Thanks for posting this.
sylvanwitchsylvanwitch on September 7th, 2006 04:14 am (UTC)
Thank you *so* much. *blushes* I'm so glad that my use of language pleased you and that you liked the story as a whole. Your comments are thoughtful and detailed, and I appreciate them very, very much.
cimmercimmerdeux on February 2nd, 2008 06:46 pm (UTC)
simple truths
Excellent story. I like all of John's internal dialogue and his thoughts on how the woman feels in a relationship. I enjoyed the comment about the chuckle of satisfaction being a universal sound of male conquest, cute. I wouldn't mind seeing more of this pairing and more exploration of wraith culture. Of course this all rather begs the questions of if you can be kind to the food why aren't you and how long can such a relationship go on before the weaker partner's heart simply gives out? All in all though, a clever way of dealing with a complex pairing.
sylvanwitchsylvanwitch on February 3rd, 2008 01:31 am (UTC)
Re: simple truths
Thank you so much for reading and for the lovely, thoughtful review. A lot of people seemed a little squicked by the whole idea, initially, but I think this season has given us a new perspective on the Wraith, and I've considered going back to revisit this pairing. Your words certainly offer encouragement. Thanks again! :-)
Sandrine: Todd/Sheppardsandrine on February 3rd, 2008 01:18 am (UTC)
*flails* I'd wanted to read this pairing ever since watching "Common Ground" but eventually gave up because I couldn't find any fanfic whatsoever until someone linked this to me yesterday. Great story, and a very intriguing remix of the episode! Thank you for the lovely read. :)
sylvanwitchsylvanwitch on February 3rd, 2008 01:29 am (UTC)
Oh, thank you so much! I really enjoyed writing this story, and I liked the pairing a lot. I've been thinking of returning to it since there's been so much opportunity this season for more of the same "bonding" between them. Thanks for reading and for the lovely review. :-)
dossierdossier on June 21st, 2008 04:54 pm (UTC)
fantastic take on the pairing, and kudos to having been on the cutting edge of what that experience may have meant. I loved the beginning, I can just see an insolent teenaged Sheppard getting kicked out of school, and those little things that we learn in school, and what they grow to mean as adults. great story, I thoroughly enjoyed reading!
sylvanwitchsylvanwitch on June 21st, 2008 05:29 pm (UTC)
Thank you so much for your thoughtful and considerate feedback. It always makes me smile to learn that people are still reading this story, despite its relative age in fandom. :-) It also surprised me at the time that I wrote and posted this that more people weren't writing the pairing; it seemed like an obvious choice to me. Anyway, I'm really just so pleased that you liked it, and I thank you sincerely for your kind comments!

Edited at 2008-06-21 05:29 pm (UTC)
imisspadfoot21imisspadfoot21 on July 11th, 2008 05:56 am (UTC)

I really liked your take on what the feeding process did to John. Also, I absoultly LOVE this pairing and love what you did with it.

Thank you!!!
sylvanwitchsylvanwitch on July 12th, 2008 12:48 am (UTC)
Thank you SO much for your really delightful feedback. I can't tell you how happy it makes me to know that people are still reading and enjoying this story, as it was and is one of my favorites. Thanks again for letting me know that you liked it!
eatingtheapple on September 24th, 2008 12:55 am (UTC)
Ive been searching every where for a wraith/sheppard story that didnt involve rape. Ive found a few that were poorly written but yours is not. Thanks. (I love you! :D )

Also, if you know of more please send links.
sylvanwitchsylvanwitch on September 24th, 2008 03:09 am (UTC)
Thank you so much for your truly kind words. I'm thrilled to hear that this is still being read. When I originally published it at Wraithbait, it was among the very first of its kind, and it didn't get an immediately warm reception, as you might imagine. Now that the wraith are more integral to the show and our beloved characters, I think more people are working with them as characters, as well.

I'm afraid the only other piece I know is actually a series of erotic Wraith/John poems that I wrote and that are also archived at Wraithbait under the title "Hunger: A Symphony in Seven Parts." I know poetry isn't everyone's thing, however, so I won't push :-)

Thank you again for reading and reviewing! :-)
Emerald Embersemerald_embers on February 1st, 2009 04:49 am (UTC)

Oh, wow :D. I loved this, and its prequel - it's so rare to find any good stories that aren't John/Rodney, even *more* rare to find anything good involving the wraith, and both this and its predecessor are just delicious. Thank you so much for providing something different :D, I'm glad my google-fu turned this up for reading because it's marvellous!

*huge, huge hugs*

Mm :D!
sylvanwitchsylvanwitch on February 1st, 2009 03:33 pm (UTC)
Wow in return! I'm just thrilled that you found this and liked it. Thank you so, so much for your lovely comments. :-) When I wrote this way back when, people found it sort of...odd, I guess? And, of course, it wasn't the OTP, so that added to the strangeness. But it just made a lot of sense to me that this pairing might work. I'm so, so glad that you agree!

If you'd like to read anything else, I do have my SGA work archived at Wraithbait under the same name. I wrote mostly Sheppard/Ronan, but there is a poem cycle that's John/Wraith.

Again, thank you so much for finding and reading and commenting on this story!
effu_kuneffu_kun on May 11th, 2009 11:53 am (UTC)


I would say more...but at this moment in time I am a heap of drooling fangirl.....

All I can say is thank you. THANK YOU!!!!!!
sylvanwitchsylvanwitch on May 11th, 2009 01:29 pm (UTC)
*grins hugely* You're quite welcome, my friend. Any time. So glad you enjoyed this. Thanks for letting me know!