Archive of Our Own

John smiled as he left the room and heard the indignation of those left behind. He had watched Rodney take a sip from Lucius' potion, and it had proved more amusing for him to go along with the man than to expose him immediately. Besides, a bit of doubt for Carson wasn't going to hurt – not after what John had had to put up with.

A frown crossed John's face as he remembered the sight of Carson animatedly describing to Elizabeth the benefits of an alliance with Lucius. Her remark that Carson seemed smitten had been an understatement in the circumstances and John took it as an example of her diplomatic skills that she had noted his presence and refrained from further comment. He made his way towards their quarters, briskly treading the hallways, undeterred by the looks he was getting, concern from the Atlanteans that the hero of the day was scowling while they celebrated.

Entering his rooms, he sat down with a heavy sigh, once more brooding on the events of the day, the image of Carson collapsing into his arms replaying itself in his mind. No matter that it had been necessary, that there had been no other way. It didn't matter that Carson had been under the influence of an alien substance and unable to control his own behaviour, it had still hurt, and Carson's comments and distrust of John had wounded him, the sight of Carson sitting opposite him in the jumper, tied up and sobbing for another man made John jump to his feet with pent up energy, pacing the room as he clenched and unclenched his fists, glad that Lucius was no longer on Atlantis so that the danger of doing something he might later regret had been removed.

But it was the mistrust that Carson had shown him that had hurt John the most, Carson normally trusted John with his life, as John did in return and John knew he needed reinforcement of this for himself to settle the unrest inside. If Carson thought his punishment was going to be limited to embarrassing comments in from of Elizabeth and the rest of the team, he had another thing coming.

Carson's steps slowed as he approached his quarters. He had seen the expressions on John's face through most of the day. In his enchantment with Lucius he had failed to understand how it would be affecting John, somehow the thought of their relationship had been pushed from his mind, and his shock when he had woken on the jumper to find himself John's prisoner had quickly turned to anger. Now that he had returned to his senses, John's little barbs had made him shuffle his feet and blush as Teyla, Ronon and Rodney looked on, apparently forgetting that they too had fallen under Lucius' spell, in evident enjoyment of Carson's discomfort. Somehow he was sure that he wouldn't have heard the last of those comments, and he debated eating his meals in the infirmary for the next week.

Shaking his head he dismissed the thoughts. Now there were more pressing concerns, the first of which was whether John would be waiting for him on his return, and if he was, what would he expect from Carson to make it up to him?

Carson's heart lifted as the doors to his room slid open and he saw John sitting in one of the chairs facing him. Then his eyes slid up and down the other man's body, taking in the black trousers, the tight black T-shirt and the determined expression on his face and without thinking he sunk to his knees, head bowed. The movement was reflexive, and even as the turmoil in his mind began to calm, with the reassurance that John was here, his heart began to race in anticipation of what he might have planned.

Carson heard John rise and saw his feet appear on the periphery of his vision, he held still, only his eyes moving as he watched John circle him, keeping his distance, but Carson could feel his eyes on him, taking in his position. His circuit complete, John stopped again in front of the kneeling man.

"A bit overdressed I think". His voice was soft, but there was no question in it. Carson pulled his shirt off in one practised, fluid movement, standing briefly to remove the rest of his clothing he was soon kneeling again, naked, relishing the vulnerability his exposure always brought him. The knowledge that the door was just behind him, that anyone could walk in and see him like this, was always in his mind. Rationally he knew John would have taken precautions against it, he would always protect Carson, but with the mind control John had over the city systems, there was no way of telling, no proof he had done so, and Carson could never shake the knot of fear in his stomach that it brought.

"No clothes, no toys. Nothing to distract us. It's up to you now."

A shiver ran up Carson's spine so he almost felt John's eyes run over him. His head still bowed he longed to look up into John's eyes, to beg forgiveness for his actions, but he knew it wasn't that simple. He could remember everything he had done through the day, and the hurt on John's face when the other members of the expedition had turned against him was seared onto his heart. Now he remained quiet, submitting himself to John's will, knowing that by giving him all his trust he could ease John's pain.

John circled him, stopping every so often, feasting on the sight of Carson like this, presented for him, his own to play with. Finally, when he could almost see Carson trembling with anticipation he allowed himself to touch, his hands reaching out to stroke over his skin, only touching lightly, watching Carson try to suppress the shivers he was causing.

He continued for a while, flitting touches varying with heavy strokes, his hands darting across Carson's body, so that the next contact was never expected, never certain. All the while he watched Carson's reactions, doing his best to stay still, but sways of his body as he tried to follow John's hands, seeking their touch, and little jumps as John caught him unawares, showing how tense his lover was.

Finally John couldn't wait any longer and standing in front of Carson he raised him up and led him towards the bedroom. Stopping in front of the bed he pulled Carson towards him, claiming his mouth in a kiss, waiting until Carson surrendered to him completely, leaning against his body, before stopping and pushing the other man back onto the bed. Following him, a feral smile on his face, John pushed Carson flat against the mattress, and guided his arms above his body until he had him as wanted. Sitting back on his heels with a satisfied look on his face he eyed the body laid out beneath him, planning his next move.

Carson lay on the bed, his arms stretched out above him, right hand grasping his left wrist; he squeezed firmly, trying to resist the temptation to move. His legs stretched out too, lying flat on the bed, pushing his knees back into the mattress, resisting the urge to thrust his hips, seeking the touch just out of his reach. A thin sheen of sweat covered his body, his mouth clamped shut as he fought for control. John hovered above him, his presence felt even when Carson closed his eyes – the dips of the mattress to either side of him, and the soft caress of John's breath upon his chest, its gentle teasing peaking his nipples. Without opening his eyes he could see the sardonic smile on John's face, the wry twist of his mouth, a detached affect belied by his dilated pupils and the expression deep within them.

Carson shuddered as the bed moved and John's mouth resumed its exploration of his body. Gently it kissed a path along his chest, following the contours of the muscles, barely there, then a sharp nip, or a quick lick followed by a puff of cool air caused Carson to grimace further and will his body still.

His resolve held until John moved from his chest onto the sensitive skin of his inner arm. The muscle held tense as Carson stretched his arms above him the sensation was too much and Carson couldn't help but twitch and pull away from the sensation. A growl from John brought his eyes flying open, looking into the feral hazel eyes of his lover as he looked down on him. Gently John lowered his weight onto Carson, stretching out, mirroring the other man's position his arms came up and he gripped Carson's wrists, stretching them up, bringing them together until he pushed them down.

"If you can't do what I say, then I guess you're going to have some help. But I'm warning you, the more I have to do, the longer this is going to take."

Carson sighed, even as his lips were caught by John's mouth, his lover claiming him, plundering his mouth, claiming him, so that it was all Carson could do to catch his breath in the storm of his lover's passion.

Carson felt his body still, gazing up into John's hazel eyes he almost seemed to melt into the mattress and he felt himself finally relinquish his control, completely John's, barely able to think of anything other than his lover looking down at him and his own wish was to please him.

John could feel the change in Carson body below him, a minute before he had been tense, holding his body still, now he was relaxed, pliant beneath him and something in his eyes had changed, their excitement seemed heightened intermingled with complete trust and he finally smiled, his own grin mirrored by Carson as he saw hope in John's eyes.

Slowly John drew himself up; Carson's body lay still now in the position John had demanded. Shuffling backwards John bent his head and resumed his earlier expedition down Carson's body, no longer looking at Carson's expression, content upon hearing the noises his lover was making to know the pleasure he was causing, John had never discouraged Carson from speaking when they were together like this, he loved to hear Carson's exclamations, the Scottish brogue growing broader and broader until John couldn't tell if Carson had lost the ability to form words or he was making perfect, unintelligible, sense.

Carson knew the answer. His speech as well as his body was John's and he no longer had any control over either. As he felt John make his way to his hips, circling Carson's eager cock with his head, investigating the smooth muscle of his thighs, all the time ignoring Carson's offering. Carson thought it was never going to end, the sensation built, soft touch on his skin, a lick, a soft breath of cold air causing his skin to prickle, and all the time his cock hot and eager, waiting, begging for attention in a way that Carson was unable to, but ignored, and Carson couldn't help the sigh that escaped his lips.

Only then did John look up and make eye contact again. A wicked grin spread across his face, and he held Carson's gaze. "Carson, you were doing so well. You know there's no chance I'm letting you come today" and without another word he returned to his teasing leaving Carson to focus on John's tongue and try and ignore the rising urge of his own body.

Concentrating as he was on stilling himself, Carson was unaware of the finer points of John's movements, so he was surprised as he felt a finger begin to tease him, even as John's mouth continued his ministrations. Slowly it entered him, stroking and stretching, brushing his prostate causing a jolt to run through his body, before withdrawing and beginning all over again. Carson didn't know how John did it, the co-ordination required for the complete lack of synchrony between his mouth and hands was driving him mad. There was no pattern, nothing he could focus on so that knew what to expect, nothing he could do but give himself to the feelings, even while trying to ignore their effect.

He didn't know how long it carried on for. The sensations John was producing coupled with his submission carried Carson's mind away, he was floating, all rational thought detached from the experience as he gave himself to John.

At last he became dimly aware of John stopping his teasing. Somewhere in the back of his mind Carson was aware that this was meant to be a punishment, and a part of him sort to feel guilt for the pleasure he was experiencing as John finally entered him. But a larger part of him quietened the guilt – it was for John to decide, not for him.

John smiled, looking down on Carson's face. His lover's eyes were on him, but there was a lack of focus familiar to John and he knew that Carson had surrendered himself. Slowly he thrust into him, gently now, lifting Carson's hips lightly to change the angle so that he stroked his prostate. As John saw Carson like this, lying beneath him, completely given up to John's wishes, he knew that he could never truly lose him, and the rush of feelings made him move faster, quickening the pace and moving to hold Carson's hips to steady himself. His hand moved to Carson's cock, stroking in time with his thrusts, both movements becoming more ragged as his climax approached; finally as he felt himself come he squeezed on the base of Carson's cock before collapsing forward onto the welcome chest of his lover.

John cried Carson's name as he came and Carson joining his shout, crying John's name as his own body shook with sudden pain and the effort of avoiding his own climax. John collapsed onto him, trapping his hard penis between the two and Carson shuffled uncomfortably, restless now, and satisfied by John, but desperate for himself. John eased himself away to lie beside Carson, his arm draped over the man's chest, pulling them together, holding him possessively while his other hand came to stroke Carson's face. Whispering in his ear, he drew him even tighter. "You're mine, Carson. Always. Mine." His hand slid down Carson's body, one finger stroking up Carson's throbbing cock. "And you don't come 'til morning".