My Ficathon Story
May. 10th, 2005 04:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
history_gurlTitle: Worth Noticing
Author: hg
For: aprilblood
Pairing: Bates/Grodin
Rating: R
This is my![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
prime_not_prime ficathon entry. I wrote it for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
aprilblood who wanted Bates/Grodin and men at work. Hope this works for ya. *g*
ETA: Big thanks tobladelover and aithine for reading the many drafts of this story. Couldn't have done it without you ladies.
Worth Noticing
The first time Peter Grodin noticed Sgt. Bates was at the foot of the ramp at the SGC. Peter watched Bates adjust straps for the Colonel, and admired the man’s form. The sergeant had an air of competency about him, and a really nice ass. Peter had no illusions about himself. He knew he was bisexual, had known it since he developed a crush on his Scoutmaster. He also knew he had a “type”. The fact that his type could usually be found wearing a uniform amused him, particularly in light of his current assignment. Peter supposed he could make grand, romantic assumptions about duty and honour, and the valour of a man in uniform, but he knew it was a kink. Grinning, he watched as that nice ass entered the wormhole.
*
Peter Grodin didn’t notice Sgt. Bates again until the man strode angrily out of Dr. Weir’s office. This wasn’t to say that he had never looked at Bates during their three months in Atlantis, but he hadn’t noticed him. Peter had noticed Lt. Ford, and Sgt. Stackhouse, and even Major Sheppard, briefly, but they just hadn’t held his interest. Now Bates was walking through the control room radiating barely controlled frustration, and Grodin was noticing. He noticed the nice ass again, but he also noticed the strong jaw, the sharp eyes and the tight muscles. Peter decided he wanted to keep noticing Sgt. Bates.
Watching Bates move down the stairs to talk quietly with the guards around the Gate, Peter glimpsed Major Sheppard leaving Dr. Weir’s office out of the corner of his eye. The major was as tense as Peter had ever seen him, outside of a life or death situation. Glancing back down at Bates, Peter wondered what was going on.
*
The third time Peter Grodin noticed Sgt. Bates was as he walked through the Gate to tell Dr. Weir of a trade agreement he had brokered with the Manarians. Peter had learned the details of the friction between Sheppard and Bates, but he had also seen them work together to contain the Wraith prisoner. Still, Peter thought he could see some glee in Bates at getting one up on the Major. Without even thinking, Peter moved to pace the sergeant out of the control room.
“I hear congratulations are in order, Sergeant.”
If Bates was surprised by the overture, he didn’t show it. “I don’t know about congratulations, Dr. Grodin. We simply achieved our mission objectives. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to check on my team.” Bates gave Grodin a nod and moved off.
Peter wished he had the liberty to follow the sergeant, but Major Sheppard and his team were still on the Genii planet, probably testing the limits of their luck; nobody essential would be leaving the Control Room until Atlantis’ premier team was back safely. Moving back to his console, Peter tucked the image of Bates’ small grin away in the back of his mind and wondered if he was the only one who noticed it.
*
The sun streamed through the high windows of Atlantis’ default gymnasium. It didn’t contain heavy bags, or free weights, or mirrors as could be expected from Earth gyms, but it was large, open, well ventilated and close to both civilian labs and military quarters. Peter knew that Teyla often used it to practice her stick fighting and that Major Sheppard was using it to teach self defence to the scientists. But that day, it was being used for something different.
Sgt. Bates stood in the sunlight, sweat gleaming on his face and shoulders, the circle of Marines around him panting harshly. Peter watched Bates signal the next soldier onto the rush mats the Athosians had provided as cushioning for the hand-to-hand training area. The two men moved through a series of moves and countermoves, culminating in the Marine flying over Bates’ hip to crash to the floor.
“You have to do better than that, Private.” Bates’ voice, quiet and controlled, was deadly.
“I’ll be ready next time, Sergeant.”
“If I were Genii, you wouldn’t have a next time. Dismissed.”
Peter watched the Marines file out of the room, eyes front, mouths closed. Bates remained in the sunlight, chest rising in slow, measured breaths.
“Sergeant.”
“Doctor.”
“I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You weren’t interrupting, sir.”
“Peter.”
“Sir?”
“My name is Peter.” Dropping his bag on a bench, Peter moved to the mats and began to stretch. “And weren’t you being a little hard on them?”
Bates moved into some stretches of his own. “I don’t believe so, si – Peter. They need to be prepared for anything, at any time.”
“Like the Genii attack?” Peter dropped to the mat to stretch his quads.
“I should go now, sir.” Bates began to move off the mats, but Peter’s foot lashed out, hooking his ankle and toppling him to the ground. “What the hell was that?”
“That, Sergeant, was an attack from a direction you didn’t expect.” Peter sprang to his feet and shifted smoothly into a fighting stance. “You can’t be expected to stay at alert all the time.”
“No, but I can be expected to do my job.” As he spoke, Bates feinted a blow at Peter’s head, then followed it with a kick to the thigh that was intended to disable an opponent quickly. Peter blocked the punch and dropped into a deeper stance causing the kick to glance off his leg. Another flurry of blows were blocked or deflected before Bates spoke again. “You’re pretty good at this.”
“Go Ju Ryu Karate, black belt … third Dan.” Peter grinned as he said the last, feeling the sweat starting to run between his shoulder blades. Then he saw Bates’ faint nod and was too busy sparring to grin.
Both men were breathing hard when Peter decided to break the silence. “You weren’t responsible for what happened.”
“It happened on my watch, from a planet that I okayed. They got past me. I’m the Head of Security for Atlantis, I am responsible.” Bates launched one last attack, moving inside his opponent, aiming for kill zones.
Peter felt his pulse racing as he grappled with the sergeant. The finesse of their earlier sparring was gone as each man pushed and edged and struggled for an advantage. Seeing an opportunity, Peter let Bates put him in a wristlock, ignoring the pain as his arm was wrenched forward. Dropping his stance again, he dragged his arm down, driving his other elbow into Bates’ shoulder then sweeping his foot between the Marine’s legs. As gravity tumbled them to the mat, he broke the wristlock and twisted Bates’ arm up behind his back.
Leaning forward, careful not to put too much pressure on Bates’ arm, Peter spoke directly into the other man’s ear. “You just committed to a fight with a fresh, well trained opponent, even though you were tired and distracted. Was that out of some sense of responsibility, or was it pride?” Easing himself up, Peter’s hips ground briefly against Bates’ leg, and he felt himself harden immediately. At that moment, Bates launched his counter attack.
Suddenly on his back, Peter looked up into the face of the angry man above him. Bates had both of Peter’s wrists pinned to the mat while he straddled one thigh to eliminate the threat of a knee to the groin. “Why do you even care?” he ground out as his eyes bored into Peter’s.
Tensing his muscles, Peter flexed his hips upward, brushing his erection against Bates’ thigh. “That’s why.” Taking advantage of the momentary shock, he stretched his arms up, causing Bates to press against him fully. He watched the dark eyes widen as he pushed into Bates’ hip, then felt an answering hardness press his own thigh. Before Peter could say or do anything more, however, Bates released him and almost sprinted through the gym door.
“Well, at least he didn’t hit me,” Peter muttered with conscious irony, then grabbed his bag and left the gym.
*
A feeling of relief swept the Control Room when Major Sheppard’s voice came over the radio, reassuring them that he had, indeed, survived the explosion that stopped the nanite virus. Caught up in the need to double check that systems were coming back online, it took Peter a few moments to notice that Dr. Weir had taken Sgt. Bates into her office. Peter had felt Bates’ turmoil as he elected to follow the orders of his commanding officer, rather than those of the Head of Mission, and he wondered how this latest event would impact the Marine.
Peter knew that the tension in the Control Room during the crisis had not been limited to fear for the inhabitants of Atlantis. Bates had successfully avoided exchanging any words with him, and Peter was unsure how he felt about that. His musings were interrupted by a question from one of the technicians, and he lost himself in his work until the door to Elizabeth’s office opened.
“Thank you, Sergeant. I’m glad we understand each other.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Bates drew himself to attention, nodded once at Dr. Weir, and turned away from the office. His eyes drifted over Peter as he left the Control Room.
“So, how did we hold up?”
“Ah, just fine, Elizabeth.” Peter dragged his attention back to his boss. “We lost a small amount of data from one of the interfaces, but overall, we are no worse off than we were before the nuclear explosion.” The slight grin that graced Elizabeth’s face caused Peter to respond in kind.
“Good, now get out of here. I know you were at the end of your shift when all this started.” Elizabeth raised her hand as Peter started to argue. “I need you rested and ready to do your job, Peter. Go.” With his own nod unintentionally echoing that of Bates, Peter moved from behind his console and out of the Control Room.
Rounding the corner to his quarters, Peter was surprised to see Sgt. Bates waiting outside his door. “Sergeant.”
“Doctor.” Bates gave him the same nod he usually reserved for Dr. Weir. “Could we … talk?”
“Please, come in.” Peter opened his door, and ushered his guest inside. “Have a seat,” he said, gesturing toward the only chair in the room, then seeming to realize Bates hadn’t moved far from the doorway. “Or not. So, you wanted to talk?”
Bates stood at parade rest, eyes front as he spoke. “I believe we need to discuss what transpired in the gymnasium, sir.”
“Peter, my bloody name is Peter!”
“With all due respect –“
“Look, Sergeant, if you’ve come to tell me that you regret what happened, or that you aren’t at all interested, just do so.” Peter could hear exhaustion sharpening his tone, but couldn’t seem to stop the flow of words. “Frankly, I find you attractive; have done so for quite some time now, but it won’t be the end of my world if you’d rather I didn’t pursue it.”
“Sir … Doctor … Peter,” Bates finally looked the other man in the eye, “please don’t take this the wrong way. I’ve been in the service long enough, I understand two buddies helping each other out. If that is what you’re offering, I’d be happy to accept. But,” one hand slipped from behind his back, reaching out blindly as Bates struggled to put his concerns into words, “I can’t care, I won’t.”
“And I won’t ask that of you.” Moving forward slowly, Peter placed his hands on Bates’ belt buckle.
*
The sound of his door sliding open startled Peter out of a light doze. “Who’s there?” he called out, knowing that he would have been radioed in case of emergency. He shifted up the bed as a shadowed figure approached, but relaxed as the familiar face was revealed by the reflected starlight.
“It’s me. I know it’s not our usual night, but,” Bates’ voice sounded tired and just a little lost.
“You’ve had a rough day.” Peter slipped out of the bed and moved toward Bates. “Has Elizabeth scheduled the memorial service for Markham and Smith yet?” As he spoke, Peter began unbuttoning Bates’ field jacket.
“The service will be at 1400 hours tomorrow, we don’t have much time for grieving with the Wraith so close.” Bates leaned into the warm hands that stroked across his shoulders as Peter pushed the jacket off. “Dr. Weir asked me to say something. I’m not sure what to say.”
“I’m sure you’ll find the words you need.” Peter quickly removed Bates’ t-shirt, placing his palms against the hard chest. His fingers circled the sensitive nipples, waiting for them to pebble before capturing them between thumb and forefinger and gently tugging.
Bates’ quiet gasps broke a silence that had stretched for minutes, but he raised his own hands to still Peter’s. “No, you don’t understand. Markham and Smith were soldiers, they were doing their duty, they knew the risks. But, that second jumper, Dr. Beckett was piloting it. It could have been him who died; I could have been responsible for killing our best doctor.”
“Haven’t we discussed this before?”
“I convinced him to go, if he had died –“
“He didn’t. Now shut up and lie down.” Peter pushed Bates onto the bed, stripping off boots and pants, then crawled between spread legs. “I know this can’t make it all go away, but it can make you sleep better. Let me help.”
Peter lowered his head, taking Bates’ semi-hard shaft into his mouth. Over their brief time together, he had learned what the other man liked and he flattened his tongue, dragging it up the underside of Bates’ cock. By the time he reached the tip, Bates was completely hard. He swirled his tongue around the flared head, inhaling the aroma of aroused male. Bracing one hand on a hip, the other rolled Bates’ balls gently as he began to slide his mouth up and down the velvety flesh, dragging his teeth lightly over the crown on each upstroke. Peter was rewarded with a deep groan and a surge of hips and thighs. Feeling Bates’ hands settle on his shoulders, Peter kept up a steady rhythm, sucking and stroking in equal measure.
“Oh, yes, please, yes!” The broken cry threw Peter off for a moment; he wasn’t accustomed to hearing Bates speak during sex. Communication was usually limited to moans, groans and small murmurs, so actual words were disconcerting. Peter redoubled his efforts, trying to drag a response out of the man beneath him. Relaxing his jaw, he leaned forward, taking Bates all the way in, something he had never done before. As the head brushed the back of his throat, he began to make swallowing motions.
“Peter!” With the sharp cry, Bates’ hips bucked, and his hands tightened. Peter pulled back slightly and let the salty come fill his mouth before he swallowed. Still licking his lips, he moved up the bed to lie beside Bates, batting a hand away as it reached for him.
“I’m fine, this was for you. Sleep.”
*
“I heard what happened.” Peter looked around the room with interest. He and Bates had only ever met in his room, so this was his first look at Bates’ quarters. He was almost certain he was intruding, but it seemed important that he be there. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“What is there to talk about? I believe Teyla is a security risk, Major Sheppard doesn’t. I just hope I’m not proved right this time.” Bates’ shoulders straightened even further as he spoke, presenting Peter with a picture of tired resilience.
“At least there were no major injuries at the alpha site.” Peter trailed off as he realized what cold comfort that was.
“Look, Peter, maybe there is something we should talk about.” Bates moved to pick up a photograph of a young boy from his desk. “I told you from the beginning that I can’t care, and now –“
Peter gave Bates a rueful grin. “This is because you fell asleep in my bed, isn’t it?”
“No,” Bates placed the photo back carefully, “it’s more than that. I just, I –“
“Don’t fret; I’ll make it easy on you.” Peter moved into the room finally noticing he was still standing just inside the door. “We both knew what we were doing when we started this. It certainly isn’t your fault I decided to change the rules, now is it? But I will tell you this,” Peter continued, “I’d just as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb.” With those words, he slipped his hand behind Bates’ head and leaned in for a kiss.
Peter brushed his lips gently across Bates’, teasing the corners of a mouth that had invaded his dreams. He licked the slightly fuller bottom lip, begging entrance, a plea that was not denied. Peter’s tongue swept behind teeth to tickle Bates’ palate, then darted back to trace the inside of those lips. He stroked, caressed and cajoled until his head swam from lack of oxygen. As he dragged in a breath of air, he reached up and placed one finger across Bates’ lips.
“I’ve wanted to do that for quite some time now. Goodbye, Sergeant.”
*
The last time Sergeant Bates noticed Dr. Peter Grodin was as he strode off to the Jumper bay with Miller and Dr. McKay for the long trip to the defence satellite.
Author: hg
For: aprilblood
Pairing: Bates/Grodin
Rating: R
This is my
prime_not_prime ficathon entry. I wrote it for aprilblood who wanted Bates/Grodin and men at work. Hope this works for ya. *g*ETA: Big thanks to
bladelover and aithine for reading the many drafts of this story. Couldn't have done it without you ladies.Worth Noticing
The first time Peter Grodin noticed Sgt. Bates was at the foot of the ramp at the SGC. Peter watched Bates adjust straps for the Colonel, and admired the man’s form. The sergeant had an air of competency about him, and a really nice ass. Peter had no illusions about himself. He knew he was bisexual, had known it since he developed a crush on his Scoutmaster. He also knew he had a “type”. The fact that his type could usually be found wearing a uniform amused him, particularly in light of his current assignment. Peter supposed he could make grand, romantic assumptions about duty and honour, and the valour of a man in uniform, but he knew it was a kink. Grinning, he watched as that nice ass entered the wormhole.
*
Peter Grodin didn’t notice Sgt. Bates again until the man strode angrily out of Dr. Weir’s office. This wasn’t to say that he had never looked at Bates during their three months in Atlantis, but he hadn’t noticed him. Peter had noticed Lt. Ford, and Sgt. Stackhouse, and even Major Sheppard, briefly, but they just hadn’t held his interest. Now Bates was walking through the control room radiating barely controlled frustration, and Grodin was noticing. He noticed the nice ass again, but he also noticed the strong jaw, the sharp eyes and the tight muscles. Peter decided he wanted to keep noticing Sgt. Bates.
Watching Bates move down the stairs to talk quietly with the guards around the Gate, Peter glimpsed Major Sheppard leaving Dr. Weir’s office out of the corner of his eye. The major was as tense as Peter had ever seen him, outside of a life or death situation. Glancing back down at Bates, Peter wondered what was going on.
*
The third time Peter Grodin noticed Sgt. Bates was as he walked through the Gate to tell Dr. Weir of a trade agreement he had brokered with the Manarians. Peter had learned the details of the friction between Sheppard and Bates, but he had also seen them work together to contain the Wraith prisoner. Still, Peter thought he could see some glee in Bates at getting one up on the Major. Without even thinking, Peter moved to pace the sergeant out of the control room.
“I hear congratulations are in order, Sergeant.”
If Bates was surprised by the overture, he didn’t show it. “I don’t know about congratulations, Dr. Grodin. We simply achieved our mission objectives. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to check on my team.” Bates gave Grodin a nod and moved off.
Peter wished he had the liberty to follow the sergeant, but Major Sheppard and his team were still on the Genii planet, probably testing the limits of their luck; nobody essential would be leaving the Control Room until Atlantis’ premier team was back safely. Moving back to his console, Peter tucked the image of Bates’ small grin away in the back of his mind and wondered if he was the only one who noticed it.
*
The sun streamed through the high windows of Atlantis’ default gymnasium. It didn’t contain heavy bags, or free weights, or mirrors as could be expected from Earth gyms, but it was large, open, well ventilated and close to both civilian labs and military quarters. Peter knew that Teyla often used it to practice her stick fighting and that Major Sheppard was using it to teach self defence to the scientists. But that day, it was being used for something different.
Sgt. Bates stood in the sunlight, sweat gleaming on his face and shoulders, the circle of Marines around him panting harshly. Peter watched Bates signal the next soldier onto the rush mats the Athosians had provided as cushioning for the hand-to-hand training area. The two men moved through a series of moves and countermoves, culminating in the Marine flying over Bates’ hip to crash to the floor.
“You have to do better than that, Private.” Bates’ voice, quiet and controlled, was deadly.
“I’ll be ready next time, Sergeant.”
“If I were Genii, you wouldn’t have a next time. Dismissed.”
Peter watched the Marines file out of the room, eyes front, mouths closed. Bates remained in the sunlight, chest rising in slow, measured breaths.
“Sergeant.”
“Doctor.”
“I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You weren’t interrupting, sir.”
“Peter.”
“Sir?”
“My name is Peter.” Dropping his bag on a bench, Peter moved to the mats and began to stretch. “And weren’t you being a little hard on them?”
Bates moved into some stretches of his own. “I don’t believe so, si – Peter. They need to be prepared for anything, at any time.”
“Like the Genii attack?” Peter dropped to the mat to stretch his quads.
“I should go now, sir.” Bates began to move off the mats, but Peter’s foot lashed out, hooking his ankle and toppling him to the ground. “What the hell was that?”
“That, Sergeant, was an attack from a direction you didn’t expect.” Peter sprang to his feet and shifted smoothly into a fighting stance. “You can’t be expected to stay at alert all the time.”
“No, but I can be expected to do my job.” As he spoke, Bates feinted a blow at Peter’s head, then followed it with a kick to the thigh that was intended to disable an opponent quickly. Peter blocked the punch and dropped into a deeper stance causing the kick to glance off his leg. Another flurry of blows were blocked or deflected before Bates spoke again. “You’re pretty good at this.”
“Go Ju Ryu Karate, black belt … third Dan.” Peter grinned as he said the last, feeling the sweat starting to run between his shoulder blades. Then he saw Bates’ faint nod and was too busy sparring to grin.
Both men were breathing hard when Peter decided to break the silence. “You weren’t responsible for what happened.”
“It happened on my watch, from a planet that I okayed. They got past me. I’m the Head of Security for Atlantis, I am responsible.” Bates launched one last attack, moving inside his opponent, aiming for kill zones.
Peter felt his pulse racing as he grappled with the sergeant. The finesse of their earlier sparring was gone as each man pushed and edged and struggled for an advantage. Seeing an opportunity, Peter let Bates put him in a wristlock, ignoring the pain as his arm was wrenched forward. Dropping his stance again, he dragged his arm down, driving his other elbow into Bates’ shoulder then sweeping his foot between the Marine’s legs. As gravity tumbled them to the mat, he broke the wristlock and twisted Bates’ arm up behind his back.
Leaning forward, careful not to put too much pressure on Bates’ arm, Peter spoke directly into the other man’s ear. “You just committed to a fight with a fresh, well trained opponent, even though you were tired and distracted. Was that out of some sense of responsibility, or was it pride?” Easing himself up, Peter’s hips ground briefly against Bates’ leg, and he felt himself harden immediately. At that moment, Bates launched his counter attack.
Suddenly on his back, Peter looked up into the face of the angry man above him. Bates had both of Peter’s wrists pinned to the mat while he straddled one thigh to eliminate the threat of a knee to the groin. “Why do you even care?” he ground out as his eyes bored into Peter’s.
Tensing his muscles, Peter flexed his hips upward, brushing his erection against Bates’ thigh. “That’s why.” Taking advantage of the momentary shock, he stretched his arms up, causing Bates to press against him fully. He watched the dark eyes widen as he pushed into Bates’ hip, then felt an answering hardness press his own thigh. Before Peter could say or do anything more, however, Bates released him and almost sprinted through the gym door.
“Well, at least he didn’t hit me,” Peter muttered with conscious irony, then grabbed his bag and left the gym.
*
A feeling of relief swept the Control Room when Major Sheppard’s voice came over the radio, reassuring them that he had, indeed, survived the explosion that stopped the nanite virus. Caught up in the need to double check that systems were coming back online, it took Peter a few moments to notice that Dr. Weir had taken Sgt. Bates into her office. Peter had felt Bates’ turmoil as he elected to follow the orders of his commanding officer, rather than those of the Head of Mission, and he wondered how this latest event would impact the Marine.
Peter knew that the tension in the Control Room during the crisis had not been limited to fear for the inhabitants of Atlantis. Bates had successfully avoided exchanging any words with him, and Peter was unsure how he felt about that. His musings were interrupted by a question from one of the technicians, and he lost himself in his work until the door to Elizabeth’s office opened.
“Thank you, Sergeant. I’m glad we understand each other.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Bates drew himself to attention, nodded once at Dr. Weir, and turned away from the office. His eyes drifted over Peter as he left the Control Room.
“So, how did we hold up?”
“Ah, just fine, Elizabeth.” Peter dragged his attention back to his boss. “We lost a small amount of data from one of the interfaces, but overall, we are no worse off than we were before the nuclear explosion.” The slight grin that graced Elizabeth’s face caused Peter to respond in kind.
“Good, now get out of here. I know you were at the end of your shift when all this started.” Elizabeth raised her hand as Peter started to argue. “I need you rested and ready to do your job, Peter. Go.” With his own nod unintentionally echoing that of Bates, Peter moved from behind his console and out of the Control Room.
Rounding the corner to his quarters, Peter was surprised to see Sgt. Bates waiting outside his door. “Sergeant.”
“Doctor.” Bates gave him the same nod he usually reserved for Dr. Weir. “Could we … talk?”
“Please, come in.” Peter opened his door, and ushered his guest inside. “Have a seat,” he said, gesturing toward the only chair in the room, then seeming to realize Bates hadn’t moved far from the doorway. “Or not. So, you wanted to talk?”
Bates stood at parade rest, eyes front as he spoke. “I believe we need to discuss what transpired in the gymnasium, sir.”
“Peter, my bloody name is Peter!”
“With all due respect –“
“Look, Sergeant, if you’ve come to tell me that you regret what happened, or that you aren’t at all interested, just do so.” Peter could hear exhaustion sharpening his tone, but couldn’t seem to stop the flow of words. “Frankly, I find you attractive; have done so for quite some time now, but it won’t be the end of my world if you’d rather I didn’t pursue it.”
“Sir … Doctor … Peter,” Bates finally looked the other man in the eye, “please don’t take this the wrong way. I’ve been in the service long enough, I understand two buddies helping each other out. If that is what you’re offering, I’d be happy to accept. But,” one hand slipped from behind his back, reaching out blindly as Bates struggled to put his concerns into words, “I can’t care, I won’t.”
“And I won’t ask that of you.” Moving forward slowly, Peter placed his hands on Bates’ belt buckle.
*
The sound of his door sliding open startled Peter out of a light doze. “Who’s there?” he called out, knowing that he would have been radioed in case of emergency. He shifted up the bed as a shadowed figure approached, but relaxed as the familiar face was revealed by the reflected starlight.
“It’s me. I know it’s not our usual night, but,” Bates’ voice sounded tired and just a little lost.
“You’ve had a rough day.” Peter slipped out of the bed and moved toward Bates. “Has Elizabeth scheduled the memorial service for Markham and Smith yet?” As he spoke, Peter began unbuttoning Bates’ field jacket.
“The service will be at 1400 hours tomorrow, we don’t have much time for grieving with the Wraith so close.” Bates leaned into the warm hands that stroked across his shoulders as Peter pushed the jacket off. “Dr. Weir asked me to say something. I’m not sure what to say.”
“I’m sure you’ll find the words you need.” Peter quickly removed Bates’ t-shirt, placing his palms against the hard chest. His fingers circled the sensitive nipples, waiting for them to pebble before capturing them between thumb and forefinger and gently tugging.
Bates’ quiet gasps broke a silence that had stretched for minutes, but he raised his own hands to still Peter’s. “No, you don’t understand. Markham and Smith were soldiers, they were doing their duty, they knew the risks. But, that second jumper, Dr. Beckett was piloting it. It could have been him who died; I could have been responsible for killing our best doctor.”
“Haven’t we discussed this before?”
“I convinced him to go, if he had died –“
“He didn’t. Now shut up and lie down.” Peter pushed Bates onto the bed, stripping off boots and pants, then crawled between spread legs. “I know this can’t make it all go away, but it can make you sleep better. Let me help.”
Peter lowered his head, taking Bates’ semi-hard shaft into his mouth. Over their brief time together, he had learned what the other man liked and he flattened his tongue, dragging it up the underside of Bates’ cock. By the time he reached the tip, Bates was completely hard. He swirled his tongue around the flared head, inhaling the aroma of aroused male. Bracing one hand on a hip, the other rolled Bates’ balls gently as he began to slide his mouth up and down the velvety flesh, dragging his teeth lightly over the crown on each upstroke. Peter was rewarded with a deep groan and a surge of hips and thighs. Feeling Bates’ hands settle on his shoulders, Peter kept up a steady rhythm, sucking and stroking in equal measure.
“Oh, yes, please, yes!” The broken cry threw Peter off for a moment; he wasn’t accustomed to hearing Bates speak during sex. Communication was usually limited to moans, groans and small murmurs, so actual words were disconcerting. Peter redoubled his efforts, trying to drag a response out of the man beneath him. Relaxing his jaw, he leaned forward, taking Bates all the way in, something he had never done before. As the head brushed the back of his throat, he began to make swallowing motions.
“Peter!” With the sharp cry, Bates’ hips bucked, and his hands tightened. Peter pulled back slightly and let the salty come fill his mouth before he swallowed. Still licking his lips, he moved up the bed to lie beside Bates, batting a hand away as it reached for him.
“I’m fine, this was for you. Sleep.”
*
“I heard what happened.” Peter looked around the room with interest. He and Bates had only ever met in his room, so this was his first look at Bates’ quarters. He was almost certain he was intruding, but it seemed important that he be there. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“What is there to talk about? I believe Teyla is a security risk, Major Sheppard doesn’t. I just hope I’m not proved right this time.” Bates’ shoulders straightened even further as he spoke, presenting Peter with a picture of tired resilience.
“At least there were no major injuries at the alpha site.” Peter trailed off as he realized what cold comfort that was.
“Look, Peter, maybe there is something we should talk about.” Bates moved to pick up a photograph of a young boy from his desk. “I told you from the beginning that I can’t care, and now –“
Peter gave Bates a rueful grin. “This is because you fell asleep in my bed, isn’t it?”
“No,” Bates placed the photo back carefully, “it’s more than that. I just, I –“
“Don’t fret; I’ll make it easy on you.” Peter moved into the room finally noticing he was still standing just inside the door. “We both knew what we were doing when we started this. It certainly isn’t your fault I decided to change the rules, now is it? But I will tell you this,” Peter continued, “I’d just as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb.” With those words, he slipped his hand behind Bates’ head and leaned in for a kiss.
Peter brushed his lips gently across Bates’, teasing the corners of a mouth that had invaded his dreams. He licked the slightly fuller bottom lip, begging entrance, a plea that was not denied. Peter’s tongue swept behind teeth to tickle Bates’ palate, then darted back to trace the inside of those lips. He stroked, caressed and cajoled until his head swam from lack of oxygen. As he dragged in a breath of air, he reached up and placed one finger across Bates’ lips.
“I’ve wanted to do that for quite some time now. Goodbye, Sergeant.”
*
The last time Sergeant Bates noticed Dr. Peter Grodin was as he strode off to the Jumper bay with Miller and Dr. McKay for the long trip to the defence satellite.
