Sarah Connor Chronicles fic for hunters_retreat
Title: Different Is Not the Same as New
Author: daria234
Rating: Mature
Categories: Slash
Fandom: Terminator:Sarah Connor Chronicles
For: The T:SCC Ficathon
Recipient: hunters_retreat Hope you like it!
Pairing: John/Derek
Prompt: John/Derek (or Jesse/Derek if a John/Derek writer isn't available) - counting the ways he's different
Contains: Incest, mild hints at possible bdsm elements, references to relationships between people of unequal power, mild sexual explicitness.
Note: this is an AU where Derek lives and continued fighting in the present with John. Sarah is elsewhere working with Weaver to defeat Skynet, and Cameron is still guarding John.
Summary: John and Derek's first kiss (and their other first kiss).
The first time John kissed Derek was exactly like the first time Derek kissed John.
Except that it was the exact opposite.
It happened when they started travelling together. John was 19, and it was just the two of them (and the machine) on the road, since John had finally convinced Sarah it was time for him to go on long missions without her. Derek liked to think it was a sign of how much faith she had in John, and to some extent, how much she trusted Derek finally (and maybe Cameron just a little); but it was also because their main strategem against Skynet involved working closely with Weaver, and though the T-1001 had been helpful, Sarah didn't mind too much if she got to keep an eye on Weaver with John far, far away. They had figured out a few things about Weaver but they still didn't know her exact agreement with the man they had taken to calling "future-John."
So Sarah and Catherine Weaver took on Skynet, and the rest of them got the mission of proctecting the people who, for whatever purpose they served in the future, were being targeted by the other terminators that Skynet kept sending back.
In other words their days usually followed one of the following patterns, as far as Derek could tell:
Wake up. Look at the intel Weaver sent them that morning and decide if she was still most likely on their side (or close enough to it). Comb the media for hints at possible cyborg arrivals. Gather information about the people whom, according to Weaver, Skynet might target. Stalk said civilians. Go out for burgers. Sit there at dinner, completely disturbed, as Cameron said very Cameron-like things, and John seemed to find it endearing. Go back, avoid telling John more of the future than he should, watch John play around like cyborg parts like he was tuning up a car, and then stay up most of the night, keeping an eye on the exits, trying not to think about the things his subconscious would thrust into his mind as soon as he fell asleep anyway.
Occasionally, their days would go like this: Wake up. Stalk some civilian who might be targeted. See metal coming (fine, usually Cameron would be the spotter). Try not to get anyone hurt when they take out said metal (again, it was possible that Cameron did a fair amount of the heavy lifting in the taking-out department). And then they would talk to the future-soldier or future-medic or future-engineer or whoever it was who was targeted, who was pretty much by that point cowering and covered in their own piss and wondering if they were going crazy or if they were really almost killed by some crazed robot but then instead saved by a waify teenager with superpowers. And John and Derek would tell them that it was real, and that the world would end, and that for the sake of the species they would need to leave their dreams right there on the sidewalk where they fell, because they needed to spend the next few years avoiding metal and preparing for what's to come.
Over and over, they gave the same speech, and over and over they watched the stages of their disbelief and anger and pain, witnessing the weight that John had carried since his birth spread to person after person. They saw it in everyone they had to tell, again and again: the downward press of "the future" clawing into some happily ignorant consciousness, some hopeful identity, scraping out what was there before, until the innocent civilian was something else entirely. And then they would have to learn to live with something other than hope or happiness, something darker and sharper but also hardier, more elastic.
Those nights - the ones after they saved someone's life and then took everything from them - Derek and John never said much when they got home.
It was on a night like that that it happened.
Derek was standing by his bed, about to wordlessly lie down and pretend to sleep (like always). But then John whispered for Cameron to stand guard outside tonight. And then he saw John coming toward him, slow and tired with that sheen of bitterness that Derek was getting used to. But also nervousness.
And Derek about panicked. Because when was John Connor nervous?
Derek stifled a laugh then, one that might have come out as a grimace. Beacuse after all this time, he shouldn't still see John this way. After being able to see with his own eyes that John Connor really was just a teenaged boy once, after living with him for the past year in close quarters, after arguing with him about half the things they did, he should know better. Not to mention when Derek gave the closest thing to a bedside manner as he knew how last month when John had a flu. Or when he held John back - and then held John still - when Cameron decided to tell John that Sarah only had a few years left and why. And even future-John would occasionally let his guard down around Derek - and maybe it was only in bed that Connor would be vulnerable, would ask Derek to take control-- but this should have been enough for Derek to understand that John was really human, really as breakable as any of them. So Derek should really have no more illusions; he should see nothing but the boy, or now the man, in front of him. But once in a while, Derek would suddenly be hit in the face with the fact that no matter what they went through together, now matter how much he got used to being there for him, Derek would always, deep down, think of him as John fucking Connor, leader of the human fucking species.
"What's up, John?" he asked, trying not to let a thing show.
John jumped toward him then, landing his lips on Derek's. It hurt like a mother, but soon John was moving his lips, his tongue parting Derek's lips and taking a deep swipe. Derek let him, not wanting to push him away, not wanting to hurt him, and so he stood passively, receptively even, as John pushed into his mouth, as John's hands landed frantically on his hips and then unevenly crept up to Derek's chest, pushing Derek's back gently into the wall. And it was clumsy and awkward and overly eager, but still, somehow, Derek was half hard in no time flat.
It was, in short, exactly like the first time Derek kissed John. A perfect role reversal of the time a young Derek Reese finally - finally - got the courage to kiss his CO, pouncing on him as the legend stood there, passive, neither pulling Derek closer nor pushing him away. And Derek almost thought that maybe John had no interest until he looked down and saw...
Exactly what young John was seeing now. And as the 19-year-old John gave a self-satisfied smirk, Derek knew that this was the same look he gave the older John so many years ago, and he finally understood how infuriating - and irresistable - that other John must have found it.
And Derek also knew now how good it felt to be wanted so badly, with young John looking to Derek like a mentor, like Derek had the answers, but still wanting more, wanting to be respected as a man, as an equal. Young John Connor, wanting to be desired as much as he desired, and wanting that desire spoken, acted on, acknowledged after years of aloofness and caution and distance and need. Derek saw it all on John's face, open and raw and unashamed, and all his body wanted to do was to bury itself in John's love, but all Derek's mind could think of was that this was exactly the way he must have looked to future-John all those years ago. All of this -- John's aggression, Derek's uncharacteristic passivity, his uncertain wash of conflict -- they had been here before, just in reverse, with each man playing the other's role. And Derek didn't know whether to think this iteration, this mirror image, was a perversion or a rectification of what happened then.
But John - for once - wasn't thinking about what future-John needed them to do for him. He paused, caught his breath, and then pressed his forehead into Derek's forehead.
"I want this from you," he whispered, as if that were enough.
"John, it's..."
"Don't even pretend you're not into it." That smirk again, now that Derek's body has given John proof. And then it's John's hands, more clever and more invasive than his lips even, finding a place on Derek's hips, not nearly so clumsy now.
Derek stared at John, trying to reconcile the two Johns. Since living with him, Derek had done his best to shove aside his memories of future-John, to try and feel nothing for the younger versions of the face and the body he used to know every inch of. But now this - the feel of John's hands and the taste of him, reminding him of something, but also promising something that might, somehow, be new....
Derek pulled John closer, then, fingers strong and conviction weak. He kissed back, almost as hard as John did, and closed his eyes, hoping that this thing they were about to do, this thing Derek had denied himself since the day he came back, might be on the very short list of things that Derek Reese didn't regret.
(end)
Author: daria234
Rating: Mature
Categories: Slash
Fandom: Terminator:Sarah Connor Chronicles
For: The T:SCC Ficathon
Recipient: hunters_retreat Hope you like it!
Pairing: John/Derek
Prompt: John/Derek (or Jesse/Derek if a John/Derek writer isn't available) - counting the ways he's different
Contains: Incest, mild hints at possible bdsm elements, references to relationships between people of unequal power, mild sexual explicitness.
Note: this is an AU where Derek lives and continued fighting in the present with John. Sarah is elsewhere working with Weaver to defeat Skynet, and Cameron is still guarding John.
Summary: John and Derek's first kiss (and their other first kiss).
The first time John kissed Derek was exactly like the first time Derek kissed John.
Except that it was the exact opposite.
It happened when they started travelling together. John was 19, and it was just the two of them (and the machine) on the road, since John had finally convinced Sarah it was time for him to go on long missions without her. Derek liked to think it was a sign of how much faith she had in John, and to some extent, how much she trusted Derek finally (and maybe Cameron just a little); but it was also because their main strategem against Skynet involved working closely with Weaver, and though the T-1001 had been helpful, Sarah didn't mind too much if she got to keep an eye on Weaver with John far, far away. They had figured out a few things about Weaver but they still didn't know her exact agreement with the man they had taken to calling "future-John."
So Sarah and Catherine Weaver took on Skynet, and the rest of them got the mission of proctecting the people who, for whatever purpose they served in the future, were being targeted by the other terminators that Skynet kept sending back.
In other words their days usually followed one of the following patterns, as far as Derek could tell:
Wake up. Look at the intel Weaver sent them that morning and decide if she was still most likely on their side (or close enough to it). Comb the media for hints at possible cyborg arrivals. Gather information about the people whom, according to Weaver, Skynet might target. Stalk said civilians. Go out for burgers. Sit there at dinner, completely disturbed, as Cameron said very Cameron-like things, and John seemed to find it endearing. Go back, avoid telling John more of the future than he should, watch John play around like cyborg parts like he was tuning up a car, and then stay up most of the night, keeping an eye on the exits, trying not to think about the things his subconscious would thrust into his mind as soon as he fell asleep anyway.
Occasionally, their days would go like this: Wake up. Stalk some civilian who might be targeted. See metal coming (fine, usually Cameron would be the spotter). Try not to get anyone hurt when they take out said metal (again, it was possible that Cameron did a fair amount of the heavy lifting in the taking-out department). And then they would talk to the future-soldier or future-medic or future-engineer or whoever it was who was targeted, who was pretty much by that point cowering and covered in their own piss and wondering if they were going crazy or if they were really almost killed by some crazed robot but then instead saved by a waify teenager with superpowers. And John and Derek would tell them that it was real, and that the world would end, and that for the sake of the species they would need to leave their dreams right there on the sidewalk where they fell, because they needed to spend the next few years avoiding metal and preparing for what's to come.
Over and over, they gave the same speech, and over and over they watched the stages of their disbelief and anger and pain, witnessing the weight that John had carried since his birth spread to person after person. They saw it in everyone they had to tell, again and again: the downward press of "the future" clawing into some happily ignorant consciousness, some hopeful identity, scraping out what was there before, until the innocent civilian was something else entirely. And then they would have to learn to live with something other than hope or happiness, something darker and sharper but also hardier, more elastic.
Those nights - the ones after they saved someone's life and then took everything from them - Derek and John never said much when they got home.
It was on a night like that that it happened.
Derek was standing by his bed, about to wordlessly lie down and pretend to sleep (like always). But then John whispered for Cameron to stand guard outside tonight. And then he saw John coming toward him, slow and tired with that sheen of bitterness that Derek was getting used to. But also nervousness.
And Derek about panicked. Because when was John Connor nervous?
Derek stifled a laugh then, one that might have come out as a grimace. Beacuse after all this time, he shouldn't still see John this way. After being able to see with his own eyes that John Connor really was just a teenaged boy once, after living with him for the past year in close quarters, after arguing with him about half the things they did, he should know better. Not to mention when Derek gave the closest thing to a bedside manner as he knew how last month when John had a flu. Or when he held John back - and then held John still - when Cameron decided to tell John that Sarah only had a few years left and why. And even future-John would occasionally let his guard down around Derek - and maybe it was only in bed that Connor would be vulnerable, would ask Derek to take control-- but this should have been enough for Derek to understand that John was really human, really as breakable as any of them. So Derek should really have no more illusions; he should see nothing but the boy, or now the man, in front of him. But once in a while, Derek would suddenly be hit in the face with the fact that no matter what they went through together, now matter how much he got used to being there for him, Derek would always, deep down, think of him as John fucking Connor, leader of the human fucking species.
"What's up, John?" he asked, trying not to let a thing show.
John jumped toward him then, landing his lips on Derek's. It hurt like a mother, but soon John was moving his lips, his tongue parting Derek's lips and taking a deep swipe. Derek let him, not wanting to push him away, not wanting to hurt him, and so he stood passively, receptively even, as John pushed into his mouth, as John's hands landed frantically on his hips and then unevenly crept up to Derek's chest, pushing Derek's back gently into the wall. And it was clumsy and awkward and overly eager, but still, somehow, Derek was half hard in no time flat.
It was, in short, exactly like the first time Derek kissed John. A perfect role reversal of the time a young Derek Reese finally - finally - got the courage to kiss his CO, pouncing on him as the legend stood there, passive, neither pulling Derek closer nor pushing him away. And Derek almost thought that maybe John had no interest until he looked down and saw...
Exactly what young John was seeing now. And as the 19-year-old John gave a self-satisfied smirk, Derek knew that this was the same look he gave the older John so many years ago, and he finally understood how infuriating - and irresistable - that other John must have found it.
And Derek also knew now how good it felt to be wanted so badly, with young John looking to Derek like a mentor, like Derek had the answers, but still wanting more, wanting to be respected as a man, as an equal. Young John Connor, wanting to be desired as much as he desired, and wanting that desire spoken, acted on, acknowledged after years of aloofness and caution and distance and need. Derek saw it all on John's face, open and raw and unashamed, and all his body wanted to do was to bury itself in John's love, but all Derek's mind could think of was that this was exactly the way he must have looked to future-John all those years ago. All of this -- John's aggression, Derek's uncharacteristic passivity, his uncertain wash of conflict -- they had been here before, just in reverse, with each man playing the other's role. And Derek didn't know whether to think this iteration, this mirror image, was a perversion or a rectification of what happened then.
But John - for once - wasn't thinking about what future-John needed them to do for him. He paused, caught his breath, and then pressed his forehead into Derek's forehead.
"I want this from you," he whispered, as if that were enough.
"John, it's..."
"Don't even pretend you're not into it." That smirk again, now that Derek's body has given John proof. And then it's John's hands, more clever and more invasive than his lips even, finding a place on Derek's hips, not nearly so clumsy now.
Derek stared at John, trying to reconcile the two Johns. Since living with him, Derek had done his best to shove aside his memories of future-John, to try and feel nothing for the younger versions of the face and the body he used to know every inch of. But now this - the feel of John's hands and the taste of him, reminding him of something, but also promising something that might, somehow, be new....
Derek pulled John closer, then, fingers strong and conviction weak. He kissed back, almost as hard as John did, and closed his eyes, hoping that this thing they were about to do, this thing Derek had denied himself since the day he came back, might be on the very short list of things that Derek Reese didn't regret.
(end)