Comment fic the third
5,348 words of comment_fic this time :)
North Pier: Chuck/Amelia, King and Queen of Atlantis
Amelia Banks knows the name of every single person on Atlantis. She knows their birthdays, which rooms they're assigned, which rooms they actually live in, who they're sleeping with. It makes for an interesting job, knowing that the nights Sergeant Ellimar spends in B-39-AH-03 instead of his own room will be followed by days of excessive cheeriness, or being one of the only ones who could notice that the hot water stopped running to the entire C block three days after Dr. DeCoombs stopped spending nights with Lieutenant Martin. And Amelia's the only one who knows.
Well, one of two, she amends as Chuck bursts out laughing from his console. Night shift with Chuck is pretty much the best four nights of Amelia's week. He's funny, he's good-looking, and he notices things that Amelia never would. Best of all, he can keep a secret just as well as she can.
"Look," he says, pointing at the map of the Jumper bay. "That's fourteen so far this month."
Amelia wheels her chair over and looks at the map. They've been able to rig a program to track people fucking on base, sort of - it can tell when people spend a certain amount of time in the same place with increased heart rate and breathing patterns, and it throws a readout up when it notices something. Amelia reads the report now on Chuck's screen quickly and grins.
"Popular place," she laughs. For whatever reason, the Jumper bay is a hot spot for activity. There was even the one night when Chuck had had to have some sort of awkward conversation with Dr. Zelenka, who'd wanted to run some late-night tests, while Amelia had snuck up the stairs to tell the couple necking in Jumper Three to button up and take the back stairs down.
Chuck just grins back at her. "Popular and stupid," he agrees. "Me, I'd go to the tower at the end of the North Pier and sit up in that big atrium. You can see all the starts through the ceiling, but it's still protected form the weather, and nobody's going to walk in on you out there."
"Sounds pretty," Amelia comments, and Chuck's grin shifts into a smirk and she smacks the back of his head before he can say anything. "Don't hurt yourself."
Chuck laughs again but wisely doesn't say anything else, and they pretend to be hard at work, studying something on the screen, as Major Lorne makes his way down the stairs from the Jumper Bay.
"Evening," he says, sauntering past. It's a few minutes before Dr. Parrish runs out, breathless, not even sparing them a nod as he pelts for the nearest transporter.
They look at each other and dissolve into laughter again before pulling the map back up and pointing at this pair or that. It's like they're in on the secrets of the City, Chuck and Amelia, like they know things that nobody else does, and it makes Amelia feel powerful and a little humbled with the responsibility of never sharing what she knows.
Except, she thinks as she slides her gaze sideways, with Chuck.
"So," she says casually when Chuck finally closes the map down. "The North Pier, was it?"
Natural: Cam/Evan/John, easy
It's easier than John thought it would be, easier than it maybe should be, to lean in and slide his tongue into Evan's mouth, to suck lightly on his lip, to run one hand through his hair and the other down his back. Evan shivers as John's hand rests in the small of his back.
"Relax," Cam murmurs from his spot beside Evan. John pulls his mouth from the smaller man's and turns, his lips meeting Cam's in a move that's more practised, more familiar. Cam breaks the kiss a moment later and leans over John's shoulder to lick at Evan's lips, and both John and Evan moan.
It's easy to progress from there, to remove clothing and inhibitions and slide together, the three of them, easy to gasp names and meaningless noises, easy to curl up with arms everywhere, Evan tucked in the middle.
It's almost natural, and the thought should mayve scare John, but he just wraps his arm around Evan's stomach and curls a little more into his back and tucks his face into Evan's shoulder, and Cam smiles at him from Evan's other side, and they all fall asleep.
Saturdays: Cam/John, waking up together
Most mornings are rushed, because it's been a long time since either one of them has had to worry about things like more than one person needing to use the shower in the morning or the drive from their new place being longer than it was from Cam's old apartment or things like that. Usually, mornings start with the alarm beeping, a quick kiss, and then they're off, John eating while Cam showers and then switching places before jumping into BDUs and jogging to the car.
Saturdays, though, Saturdays are John's favorite day of the week, because there are no alarms and no rushing. There's just the two of them waking when they feel like waking, sleepy kissing, curling into each other, tugging the blankets up higher and knowing that they could stay like this all day if they wanted. They rarely do, but it's nice to lie awake together for a while, just being with each other.
Yeah, Saturdays are fur sure John's favorite day of the week.
Salt: Cameron/John, Demon Hunters
John carries salt in his pocket now, because he didn't before, and he almost lost his other half.
The demon had been a small one, quick and cunning, and John would rather fight the huge, terrifying-looking ones, because they're slow and not all that intelligent. But this one had been small and fast, and John hadn't had the salt to trap it and it had gotten its hands on Cam and the light had started, arcing up Cam's body in strands, and Cam's eyes had glowed and his body had jerked and he'd screamed, screamed, until John had shaken off the shock and found the fucking thing and dispatched it.
Cam had dropped like a stone, breathing in shallow gasps, and John had tried everything he'd ever been taught, everything he'd ever heard of having worked, but Cam hadn't opened his eyes. John had dragged him back to their hotel and locked the door and wracked his brain until he locked onto a tiny sliver of memory, the voice of a witch they'd worked with once or twice upon a time, and he'd lifted the knife and slashed his palm open and pressed the wound to Cam's mouth without a second thought. Cam had taken a deep breath and woken up, and there had been blood everywhere but Cam was alive. John still carries the scar on his hand.
He also carries salt.
Still Me: Cam/John, John never joined the Air Force.
There's a new barkeep at the place Cam doesn't like to think he frequents, and good goddamn, the man is beautiful. He's masculine enough to be manly, but he's got those sweeping cheekbones and fluttering eyelashes and incredible hazel-green eyes, and he's got a little bit of smoky eyeliner on, and his hair is ridiculously unkempt, and fuck, Cam's maybe a little in love.
"Hey," he greets Cam. "What'll you have?"
Cam tries to act like he's not imagining this guy on his knees when he answers. "What's your specialty?"
From the smirk on the guy's lips, Cam didn't succeed, and okay, that probably wasn't the most subtle thing he could have said. "John," he offers as he reaches beneath the bar, twists the cap off a Sam Adams, and sets it in front of Cam.
"Cam," he replies, taking a sip of the beer on autopilot.
"Military," John says, sharp eyes taking in the haircut, Cam's sure, and probably the little bit of the chain around his neck that peeks above his collar. He just mods.
"I almost joined up once," John says, a little smile on his face that Cam wouldn't quite call wistful. "Air Force. I wanted to fly like nothing else, but..." He shrugs. "Couldn't not be me."
"It's not easy," Cam agrees.
John looks like he wants to ask a question, so Cam tilts his head a bit, and John asks, "Why'd you join, then?"
Cam smiles his own little smile. "Couldn't not be me."
There's a little moment, sort of, if guys have moments like that, and John pops another beer open for Cam even though his first isn't done and smiles. "I'm out of here in an hour," he says, and it's so casual that it might not be an offer, but Cam's good at the 'what's not being said' game by now.
Cam tips his beer in John's direction and smiles again. "I know a burger place nearby," he replies, and John smiles back and nods as he walks to his next customer.
Surprise: Cam/John, five times John surprised Cam and one time Cam surprised John.
1. The new kid meets Cam's eyes across the mess hall, grins, and ten seconds later, he's dropping his tray across the table from Cam and slouching in his seat.
"I'm John," he says.
"Cam," Cam replies warily. "Do I know you?"
John smirks at him, one corner of his mouth lifting higher than the other, and says, "Not yet."
2. They're watching a movie together, Cam's junior year, John's sophomore. Not like that, not really, or at least Cam tries not to think so.
He starts to revise his opinion when John sits right next to him, thighs pressed together, and thinks about it more when John's hand rests on his knee, decides it probably is that kind of watching together when John's fingers start to trace random patterns into Cam's thigh.
He realises that it's quite definitely that kind of watching together when the movie ends and John takes Cam's face in his hands and leans in to brush their lips together.
3. John leaves soon after that, and Cam's never before had a guy want to kiss him without immediately expecting more.
4. John goes home with Cam for Christmas during Cam's last year at the Academy. It was John's idea, which was surprising enough, but Cam is pretty much shocked when John slips into his family like he's always been there, bringing Great Gran'ma Edith her tea and laughing with the uncles and complimenting Momma's pie. The family loves him like another lost son, and that's less of a surprise; John can be downright charming when he wants to be, and the Mitchells have a long history of adopting strays.
"I like your family," John says to him that night, when they're curled into bed together - another thing that Cam's grateful to his family for, because nobody had even blinked.
"They like you," Cam returns, and it's true.
5. John never, not once in the seven years they're together, pressures Cam into anything. Other than that first kiss, Cam's had to make every first move - everything from the next kiss to full-on making out to eventually sleeping together - and it's not that he minds, it's just that he'd thought that it would have been John.
"It's easier to let you decide," he says when Cam asks him about it. I don't want to make you do anything you don't want to do, Cam hears, and it's not long after that he's the first one to say "I love you."
---
1. To the surprise of absolutely nobody who knows about them, Cam's the romantic in their relationship. He's the one that plans dates or send cards or says "I love you" spontaneously, always has been, and John's always a tolerant sort of amused when Cam does something like that. It's in that half-smile John always gives him when Cam says he's made plans for them, like the one he's giving Cam now.
It's a decent restaurant, nice without being ridiculous, the kind where you wear slacks but not a jacket. They sit sort of near the back, and Cam's stomach is too twisted to eat. John notices - John always notices, though he rarely lets anyone see that - and halfway through his entree he puts his fork down, looks Cam straight in the eye, and asks "What?"
"Marry me," Cam blurts out, and John gives him that half-smile again, but Cam isn't finished. "No, John, I mean it. Marry me."
The smile slips from John's face, replaced by a sort of surprised look. Cam sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.
"I had it all thought out, too, what I was going to say," he mock-complains, and just dives into it. "We've been together for seventeen years, John, and I love every goddamned thing about you, even the things that drive me batshit crazy, like how you leave your socks inside out in the laundry. And now we can, and I'd like to." He pulls the box from his pocket and drops it on the table near John's hand. "Marry me, John."
John's hand moves slowly to cover the box, but he's staring straight at Cam, a look on his face that Cam can't decipher. He flicks the box open and glances down at it, and Cam knows he's seeing two rings, shining white-gold in the dim light of the restaurant. His eyes meet Cam's again, and there's a smile on his lips like Cam's never seen before, one that seems to soften his whole face.
"God, yes," he says, and Cam feels the smile stretch across his own face as John takes the rings from the box. He offers one to Cam and takes the other in his fingers, rolling it lightly as he takes Cam's hand and slips it on. Cam does the same for him, and he threads their fingers together across the table and feels like a complete idiot for the way he can't stop smiling. It's okay, though, because John's smiling back at him, and the waitress is beaming from three tables away and dabbing at her eyes, and Cam loves this man so fucking much and they're getting married.
"I love you," John says, and he doesn't usually say it first, but Cam just smiles at him and squeezes his hand.
"I love you," Cam says back at him, and John squeezes back.
Family: Cam/John, and baby makes three
Cam's heard that some pretty fucked up things happen in the Pegasus galaxy - and really, all you have to do to believe it is meet a Wraith - but this? This he hadn't been expecting.
Because this is John, his partner of years and years, glaring at him from across his quarters as he sits in his bed, propped up by what just might be every single spare pillow in Atlantis.
Pregnant.
Because there's no mistaking that bulge in his middle; John's not put on a baby's worth of extra weight in the past month. No, he's actually somehow gotten pregnant, because that's baby-shaped, and as Cam watches, he can see a small ripple of movement across the skin, like he recalls with perfect clarity happening when Momma had been pregnant with Cole.
"This is your fault," John snaps at him, and Cam doesn't really know what to say to that.
"Um," he tries. "Before you go blaming me, can I interject a nice 'what the fuck'?"
"MRH-038," John supplies, and that's the one where they'd -
Oh.
Because there had been some sort of weird drink and some sort of 'sacred rite' and some sort of really amazing sex, and John had given him a lazy smile in the morning and kissed him and kissed him, and it's pretty much the best mission Cam can recall having.
Except now all he can think of is the weird drink and the bits of the priest's speech about a fertility rite, and-
"That was a month ago," he blurts. "How - what the - John, I don't even-"
"Welcome to the club," John says, and it should sound a little bitter, maybe, but it's delivered with that half-smile of John's and he doesn't look angry any more, so Cam walks over and sits on the edge of the bed.
John explains, sort of, about Beckett doing test after test when John had started to put on weight, and John recalling the mission, and how fucking weird it was to wake up every day feeling a lot more like a house.
"Um," Cam says again when John finishes and looks up at him expectantly. This is not a situation he knows how to respond to.
John's face closes off a little. "You're upset."
"No!" It bursts from Cam's lips, and he leans forward and puts a hand on John's stomach - on their baby - and takes John's nearest hand with his other. "Surprised, yeah. Weirded out, maybe a little, but you've gotta give me that one. But no, John, I'm not upset." He rubs his thumb across John's belly and stills when he feels something move, and looks down with astonishment as the baby kicks again.
"Yeah, it started doing that a couple of days ago," John offers. "Wakes me up at night."
"When are you going to - when's it-"
"Carson's going to take it out tomorrow," John says quietly. "I'm sorry. This is - crazy, I know, and you finally make it back and I'm having our kid tomorrow."
Cam lets out a breath. Tomorrow. He's going to be a father tomorrow. "Why didn't you tell me? I would have dropped everything-"
"That's why." John meets his eyes. "What you were doing is important, Cam. They needed you there."
"You needed me here," Cam replies, but John's right. They're in the beginning stages of declasification on Earth, and he's kind of a big part of it. And if John had told him, he'd have told them where they could shove their policies and careful proceedings and he'd have been back here in a split-second.
John just shrugs, though, and Cam knows he's considered all of this already. "You made it for the finale," he quips, smiling a little again, and Cam rubs his hand over the baby again and squeezes John's hand. Cam looks at his partner and thinks about tiny clothing and changing nappies and being exhausted for the next, oh, twenty years of his life, and he smiles back.
For Their Amusement: Cam/John, Bravo Sierra
It's hilarious to the handful of people who know, and really, John thinks it's kind of funny too.
"Bravo," someone calls down the hallway, and Cam looks up from his magazine, something investigating something else, as Rusty Saunders pops his head in a second later. "Foxtrot and I are going out with a few people. Interested?" His eyes slide to where John's sprawled on the couch, stomach down, working at a crossword puzzle. "Hey, Sierra. You're invited too."
"I'll pass," Cam replies easily, and John waves his hand and uses his pen to write erudite for 9-across. Rusty shrugs and continues his walk down the hall, and Cam snorts.
"Tango's losing it," he drawls, jerking his head after Saunders. "Sarge is gonna have his ass for going out on a school night."
John thinks it's amusing enough that there are twenty-six of them in this cohort of cadets, and that someone had decided to make their callsigns the words from the phonetic alphabet. He thinks it's even funnier that Bravo and Sierra ended up secretly sleeping together, because the law that keeps them from even smiling at each other for too long in public is the biggest piece of bullshit ever created. It's almost poetic justice.
But there they are, Bravo Sierra, in a dorm room at night while Foxtrot and Tango and the rest of the alphabet go get wasted, and John's kind of happy enough with his own particular brand of bullshit.
Wakeup: Lorne/Sheppard/Mitchell, "well that wasn't the exboyfriend I expected to hook up with today"
When Evan wakes up in the morning, the first thing he does is freeze. There's an arm around his middle, which is fine; he usually wakes up with John's arm slung around his waist, so that's not that weird. But John's molded into his front, and his arms definitely aren't anywhere near Evan's waist. There's someone behind Evan, someone big and warm and, at this point, unknown.
"Well," the guy says form behind him, "you weren't the ex I was expecting to hook up with last night."
And with that, Cam Mitchell presses a kiss to the back of Evan's neck, rolls out of the bed, and walks to the bathroom.
"Don't get me wrong," he continues a few minutes later when he comes back into the bedroom to see Evan turned over, his back to John, staring in Cam's general direction. "I'm not upset or anything, and hell, you look great, Evan."
A hand ghosts over his stomach, and Evan feels John press into his back. "You okay?" he asks quietly, and Evan nods.
"Morning," Cam says to John, who nods to him. "Jesus, John, your bedhead is even worse now than it was fifteen years ago."
"Not everyone goes for the so-closely-cropped-I-might-be-bald look," John shoots back, and it has the easy air of an argument that's been played over and over, words meant as affection rather than malice. Evan has about three seconds to process everything before Cam slips back into bed and rolls smack into Evan's chest, stretching his arm out to wrap around John's back with Evan in the middle.
"I didn't know you had-" Evan starts, looking at Cam, and John's hand tightens on his hip.
"Yeah," Cam says. "Before I met you."
"He was-"
"Yeah," Cam cuts him off, and there's nothing in his face or voice to indicate that something might be off, but they both know what he'd been about to say - the one you couldn't get over, the one who broke your heart.
It's silent for a little while longer, the three of them lying together in not-uncomfortable silence, despite shared and separate histories. Eventually, John's hand moves lower, and Cam's hand slides back to trace patterns into the skin on Evan's hip, and maybe Evan didn't expect to wake up like this, but he's not complaining.
Stranded: John/Cam, Love under blood red skies.
The planet is called Om'ran, and it would be an ideal place to be stranded, if John could just get over what it looks like.
Really, it's not a bad place. The locals are friendly and understanding; they've been provided a hut near the edge of the town, and they have work to do while they wait. The food is decent, and neither of them are malnourished, though they've been here for at least eight months.
John refuses to keep counting after the end of month six, but Cam keeps notching his sticks.
The thing that weirds him out, the thing that he can't get used to, is that the air is filled with a red sort of light. It's something to do with the sun, he knows, the star about to explode or implode or something else that probably isn't good, but it turns everything a shade that he just can't acclimate to. It still feels wrong to wake up here, to see Cam's face so rosy, to watch his own red hands tend the rows of grain in the field. He can't get used to it, no matter what, and it's what keeps him on his toes, keeps him from getting used to it.
Cam doesn't seem to mind, at least not any more, that they might very well spend the rest of their lives here. He's made friends with a bunch of the natives, and more nights than not, he stays at the campfire and tells stories about Earth and Atlantis and other things that these people will never see.
He always comes back to their hut, though. He always comes home at night to crawl in next to John, and if there's one thing about Om'ran that John can be grateful for, it's that living under these blood-red skies has given him the courage to finally say yes to Cam. By now, seven months into their relationship, John's not sure why he'd ever said no.
If this is the rest of his life, John thinks, he might actually be okay with it.
How He Is: Cam/John, accidental seduction
John is absolutely positive that Cam's not trying to seduce him. He's sure of it, because it's subtle enough that it's almost not there, and when he'd tried his own version of responding to it - flirting a little, making slightly more off-color jokes than usual - Cam had just seemed confused.
It's driving John crazy, though, because he's crashing in the guy's spare room while he's stuck on Earth for the next month or so in meetings, and Cam keeps walking around in boxers and socks with his hair all stuck up from sleep, or he'll leave the bathroom with just a towel around his waist and stop to talk to John for a minute on his way back to his bedroom, or he'll eat breakfast in just a pair of worn jeans on the weekends. And his eyes are really, really blue in the mornings, before the weight of the universe settles in, a color that even Lorne would have trouble mixing up.
And his drawl is just a touch heavier when he first wakes or when he's about to go to sleep, and John's always been a sucker for a country boy. And he loves football, and flying, and fast cars, and Ferris wheels, and John's going to have to find someone else's couch to crash on, else he's going to lose his damn mind.
Too late, he thinks later that week, because he and Cam are relaxing on the couch with a movie on, and John's had maybe a beer and a half, enough to loosen him up but not nearly enough to impair his judgment, and right in the middle of a scene with something exploding he leans across the two feet separating them and kisses Cam full on the lips.
Cam drops his beer.
John's standing and making his way into the kitchen before the liquid is done pouring form the bottle, and he's trying to toss his own bottle into the recycling bin and remember where his keys are and cram his feet into his shoes before he can make even more of an ass out of himself, but when he turns around in the kitchen after putting his bottle into the can, Cam's right there, looking at him.
"John-" he says, and when John doesn't meet his eyes and tries to just push past him into the hallway, Cam grabs him by the arms, looks right into his eyes, and kisses him soundly.
"Oh," John says when Cam pulls his head back. "I - was really about to fuck that up, wasn't I?"
"I probably would have forgiven you," Cam replies, and their faces are still just inches apart, so John leans forward and captures Cam's mouth with his own again.
"Walking around half-naked all the time and that damn stupid voice of yours and Michigan/Michigan State," John breathes. "How was I supposed to-"
"Sorry," Cam apologises, "it's just how I am," but he doesn't sound sorry at all as he threads his fingers into John's hair and draws him closer and closer until John can't do anything but kiss him again and again.
Trouble: Cam/John, "I told you I was trouble, You know that I'm no good"
"I told you I was going to fuck this up," John says, and there's blood welling in a cut on his bottom lip and his eyes are closed and his head is bowed. There's no resistance in his voice or his posture or anything. He looks like he's expecting Cam to hit him again, like he thinks he deserves it. "I told you I was no good at this."
"John," Cam says a little helplessly, his fist unclenching and dropping to his side. He's already regretting losing his temper. "John, sweetheart, talk to me."
"I told you," John repeats. "I slept with someone else."
"Context, John," Cam probes, because there's got to be more to it than that. It's not in John's character, for all he seems to think it is, and the way John's telling him - Cam knows there's more to the story.
"Offworld," John tells him, and he's looking over Cam's shoulder now. "There was - they had Teyla and McKay hostage, and they said-"
"They forced you?" There's a curl of anger in Cam's gut, white hot and distracting, and Cam forces it away for now.
"I did it willingly," John argues. "They would have killed my team if I didn't, so I just... tried not to think about it."
Cam takes a deep breath and steps towards John, hands carefully at his sides. "John," he says gently.
"I'm sorry," John says, and he takes a step back towards the door. Cam settles his hands on John's hips before he can run away completely, and John finally slides his eyes to meet Cam's.
"I'm not blaming you for anything," Cam says. "You didn't - they forced you, John, they didn't give you a choice."
"I didn't have to," John says hollowly.
"Did you want to?"
"No," John snaps instantly, and there's anger and hurt in his eyes. "No, Cam, I didn't want to bend over in front of the entire fucking tribe while my team watched-"
Cam keeps the lid on his anger firmly in place. "Do you want me to leave you?" he asks instead, more quietly, and John finally, finally loses the edge in his attitude. His shoulders drop and he falls a little forward.
"No," he says brokenly as his hands come up to cling to Cam's biceps. "God, no, no, Cam."
"I'm here," Cam murmurs to him over and over. "Don't worry, John. I'm here."
Celebrate: John/Cam, painting the town red
John swears he's never going to trust Vala again, because this is not what he had in mind when he agreed that she could plan a small, quiet celebration. There are people every-damn-where, and there's enough food to feed all of Colorado Springs, and John's pretty sure there's an entire room filled with gifts.
Cam lust laughs at the look on John's face. "It's just a few hours," he says as they walk in. "Smile and say 'thank you' a lot."
John barely has the time to glare at his husband before Vala whisks him away and he disappears into the crowd.
"Sheppard," a voice calls, and then John's swept up as well, and he pastes a fake smile on his face and goes.
It's five hours before he and Cam are packing the last of the gifts into the back of John's car. It's a lot of stuff, John thinks, most of which they'll probably never use, and will clutter up their apartment until they can give it away. It's a little ridiculous, the amount of gifts Vala had scared or coerced people into purchasing, and John sighs as he finally gets the door closed with everything inside. He's had to repack the back seat three times.
Cam slings an arm around his waist and kisses his temple as they stand next to the car. "I love you," he says, clear and loud, and there's no way that Captain Jarvis in the next car didn't hear it, but she just smiles a little as she drives away.
John relaxes a little and smiles at Cam. "Love you, too," he replies, and they get in the car and drive home together.
And look look at the shiny new icon! kazbaby made it and I totally stole it as soon as I saw it, because loooooooook at it. :D
North Pier: Chuck/Amelia, King and Queen of Atlantis
Amelia Banks knows the name of every single person on Atlantis. She knows their birthdays, which rooms they're assigned, which rooms they actually live in, who they're sleeping with. It makes for an interesting job, knowing that the nights Sergeant Ellimar spends in B-39-AH-03 instead of his own room will be followed by days of excessive cheeriness, or being one of the only ones who could notice that the hot water stopped running to the entire C block three days after Dr. DeCoombs stopped spending nights with Lieutenant Martin. And Amelia's the only one who knows.
Well, one of two, she amends as Chuck bursts out laughing from his console. Night shift with Chuck is pretty much the best four nights of Amelia's week. He's funny, he's good-looking, and he notices things that Amelia never would. Best of all, he can keep a secret just as well as she can.
"Look," he says, pointing at the map of the Jumper bay. "That's fourteen so far this month."
Amelia wheels her chair over and looks at the map. They've been able to rig a program to track people fucking on base, sort of - it can tell when people spend a certain amount of time in the same place with increased heart rate and breathing patterns, and it throws a readout up when it notices something. Amelia reads the report now on Chuck's screen quickly and grins.
"Popular place," she laughs. For whatever reason, the Jumper bay is a hot spot for activity. There was even the one night when Chuck had had to have some sort of awkward conversation with Dr. Zelenka, who'd wanted to run some late-night tests, while Amelia had snuck up the stairs to tell the couple necking in Jumper Three to button up and take the back stairs down.
Chuck just grins back at her. "Popular and stupid," he agrees. "Me, I'd go to the tower at the end of the North Pier and sit up in that big atrium. You can see all the starts through the ceiling, but it's still protected form the weather, and nobody's going to walk in on you out there."
"Sounds pretty," Amelia comments, and Chuck's grin shifts into a smirk and she smacks the back of his head before he can say anything. "Don't hurt yourself."
Chuck laughs again but wisely doesn't say anything else, and they pretend to be hard at work, studying something on the screen, as Major Lorne makes his way down the stairs from the Jumper Bay.
"Evening," he says, sauntering past. It's a few minutes before Dr. Parrish runs out, breathless, not even sparing them a nod as he pelts for the nearest transporter.
They look at each other and dissolve into laughter again before pulling the map back up and pointing at this pair or that. It's like they're in on the secrets of the City, Chuck and Amelia, like they know things that nobody else does, and it makes Amelia feel powerful and a little humbled with the responsibility of never sharing what she knows.
Except, she thinks as she slides her gaze sideways, with Chuck.
"So," she says casually when Chuck finally closes the map down. "The North Pier, was it?"
Natural: Cam/Evan/John, easy
It's easier than John thought it would be, easier than it maybe should be, to lean in and slide his tongue into Evan's mouth, to suck lightly on his lip, to run one hand through his hair and the other down his back. Evan shivers as John's hand rests in the small of his back.
"Relax," Cam murmurs from his spot beside Evan. John pulls his mouth from the smaller man's and turns, his lips meeting Cam's in a move that's more practised, more familiar. Cam breaks the kiss a moment later and leans over John's shoulder to lick at Evan's lips, and both John and Evan moan.
It's easy to progress from there, to remove clothing and inhibitions and slide together, the three of them, easy to gasp names and meaningless noises, easy to curl up with arms everywhere, Evan tucked in the middle.
It's almost natural, and the thought should mayve scare John, but he just wraps his arm around Evan's stomach and curls a little more into his back and tucks his face into Evan's shoulder, and Cam smiles at him from Evan's other side, and they all fall asleep.
Saturdays: Cam/John, waking up together
Most mornings are rushed, because it's been a long time since either one of them has had to worry about things like more than one person needing to use the shower in the morning or the drive from their new place being longer than it was from Cam's old apartment or things like that. Usually, mornings start with the alarm beeping, a quick kiss, and then they're off, John eating while Cam showers and then switching places before jumping into BDUs and jogging to the car.
Saturdays, though, Saturdays are John's favorite day of the week, because there are no alarms and no rushing. There's just the two of them waking when they feel like waking, sleepy kissing, curling into each other, tugging the blankets up higher and knowing that they could stay like this all day if they wanted. They rarely do, but it's nice to lie awake together for a while, just being with each other.
Yeah, Saturdays are fur sure John's favorite day of the week.
Salt: Cameron/John, Demon Hunters
John carries salt in his pocket now, because he didn't before, and he almost lost his other half.
The demon had been a small one, quick and cunning, and John would rather fight the huge, terrifying-looking ones, because they're slow and not all that intelligent. But this one had been small and fast, and John hadn't had the salt to trap it and it had gotten its hands on Cam and the light had started, arcing up Cam's body in strands, and Cam's eyes had glowed and his body had jerked and he'd screamed, screamed, until John had shaken off the shock and found the fucking thing and dispatched it.
Cam had dropped like a stone, breathing in shallow gasps, and John had tried everything he'd ever been taught, everything he'd ever heard of having worked, but Cam hadn't opened his eyes. John had dragged him back to their hotel and locked the door and wracked his brain until he locked onto a tiny sliver of memory, the voice of a witch they'd worked with once or twice upon a time, and he'd lifted the knife and slashed his palm open and pressed the wound to Cam's mouth without a second thought. Cam had taken a deep breath and woken up, and there had been blood everywhere but Cam was alive. John still carries the scar on his hand.
He also carries salt.
Still Me: Cam/John, John never joined the Air Force.
There's a new barkeep at the place Cam doesn't like to think he frequents, and good goddamn, the man is beautiful. He's masculine enough to be manly, but he's got those sweeping cheekbones and fluttering eyelashes and incredible hazel-green eyes, and he's got a little bit of smoky eyeliner on, and his hair is ridiculously unkempt, and fuck, Cam's maybe a little in love.
"Hey," he greets Cam. "What'll you have?"
Cam tries to act like he's not imagining this guy on his knees when he answers. "What's your specialty?"
From the smirk on the guy's lips, Cam didn't succeed, and okay, that probably wasn't the most subtle thing he could have said. "John," he offers as he reaches beneath the bar, twists the cap off a Sam Adams, and sets it in front of Cam.
"Cam," he replies, taking a sip of the beer on autopilot.
"Military," John says, sharp eyes taking in the haircut, Cam's sure, and probably the little bit of the chain around his neck that peeks above his collar. He just mods.
"I almost joined up once," John says, a little smile on his face that Cam wouldn't quite call wistful. "Air Force. I wanted to fly like nothing else, but..." He shrugs. "Couldn't not be me."
"It's not easy," Cam agrees.
John looks like he wants to ask a question, so Cam tilts his head a bit, and John asks, "Why'd you join, then?"
Cam smiles his own little smile. "Couldn't not be me."
There's a little moment, sort of, if guys have moments like that, and John pops another beer open for Cam even though his first isn't done and smiles. "I'm out of here in an hour," he says, and it's so casual that it might not be an offer, but Cam's good at the 'what's not being said' game by now.
Cam tips his beer in John's direction and smiles again. "I know a burger place nearby," he replies, and John smiles back and nods as he walks to his next customer.
Surprise: Cam/John, five times John surprised Cam and one time Cam surprised John.
1. The new kid meets Cam's eyes across the mess hall, grins, and ten seconds later, he's dropping his tray across the table from Cam and slouching in his seat.
"I'm John," he says.
"Cam," Cam replies warily. "Do I know you?"
John smirks at him, one corner of his mouth lifting higher than the other, and says, "Not yet."
2. They're watching a movie together, Cam's junior year, John's sophomore. Not like that, not really, or at least Cam tries not to think so.
He starts to revise his opinion when John sits right next to him, thighs pressed together, and thinks about it more when John's hand rests on his knee, decides it probably is that kind of watching together when John's fingers start to trace random patterns into Cam's thigh.
He realises that it's quite definitely that kind of watching together when the movie ends and John takes Cam's face in his hands and leans in to brush their lips together.
3. John leaves soon after that, and Cam's never before had a guy want to kiss him without immediately expecting more.
4. John goes home with Cam for Christmas during Cam's last year at the Academy. It was John's idea, which was surprising enough, but Cam is pretty much shocked when John slips into his family like he's always been there, bringing Great Gran'ma Edith her tea and laughing with the uncles and complimenting Momma's pie. The family loves him like another lost son, and that's less of a surprise; John can be downright charming when he wants to be, and the Mitchells have a long history of adopting strays.
"I like your family," John says to him that night, when they're curled into bed together - another thing that Cam's grateful to his family for, because nobody had even blinked.
"They like you," Cam returns, and it's true.
5. John never, not once in the seven years they're together, pressures Cam into anything. Other than that first kiss, Cam's had to make every first move - everything from the next kiss to full-on making out to eventually sleeping together - and it's not that he minds, it's just that he'd thought that it would have been John.
"It's easier to let you decide," he says when Cam asks him about it. I don't want to make you do anything you don't want to do, Cam hears, and it's not long after that he's the first one to say "I love you."
---
1. To the surprise of absolutely nobody who knows about them, Cam's the romantic in their relationship. He's the one that plans dates or send cards or says "I love you" spontaneously, always has been, and John's always a tolerant sort of amused when Cam does something like that. It's in that half-smile John always gives him when Cam says he's made plans for them, like the one he's giving Cam now.
It's a decent restaurant, nice without being ridiculous, the kind where you wear slacks but not a jacket. They sit sort of near the back, and Cam's stomach is too twisted to eat. John notices - John always notices, though he rarely lets anyone see that - and halfway through his entree he puts his fork down, looks Cam straight in the eye, and asks "What?"
"Marry me," Cam blurts out, and John gives him that half-smile again, but Cam isn't finished. "No, John, I mean it. Marry me."
The smile slips from John's face, replaced by a sort of surprised look. Cam sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.
"I had it all thought out, too, what I was going to say," he mock-complains, and just dives into it. "We've been together for seventeen years, John, and I love every goddamned thing about you, even the things that drive me batshit crazy, like how you leave your socks inside out in the laundry. And now we can, and I'd like to." He pulls the box from his pocket and drops it on the table near John's hand. "Marry me, John."
John's hand moves slowly to cover the box, but he's staring straight at Cam, a look on his face that Cam can't decipher. He flicks the box open and glances down at it, and Cam knows he's seeing two rings, shining white-gold in the dim light of the restaurant. His eyes meet Cam's again, and there's a smile on his lips like Cam's never seen before, one that seems to soften his whole face.
"God, yes," he says, and Cam feels the smile stretch across his own face as John takes the rings from the box. He offers one to Cam and takes the other in his fingers, rolling it lightly as he takes Cam's hand and slips it on. Cam does the same for him, and he threads their fingers together across the table and feels like a complete idiot for the way he can't stop smiling. It's okay, though, because John's smiling back at him, and the waitress is beaming from three tables away and dabbing at her eyes, and Cam loves this man so fucking much and they're getting married.
"I love you," John says, and he doesn't usually say it first, but Cam just smiles at him and squeezes his hand.
"I love you," Cam says back at him, and John squeezes back.
Family: Cam/John, and baby makes three
Cam's heard that some pretty fucked up things happen in the Pegasus galaxy - and really, all you have to do to believe it is meet a Wraith - but this? This he hadn't been expecting.
Because this is John, his partner of years and years, glaring at him from across his quarters as he sits in his bed, propped up by what just might be every single spare pillow in Atlantis.
Pregnant.
Because there's no mistaking that bulge in his middle; John's not put on a baby's worth of extra weight in the past month. No, he's actually somehow gotten pregnant, because that's baby-shaped, and as Cam watches, he can see a small ripple of movement across the skin, like he recalls with perfect clarity happening when Momma had been pregnant with Cole.
"This is your fault," John snaps at him, and Cam doesn't really know what to say to that.
"Um," he tries. "Before you go blaming me, can I interject a nice 'what the fuck'?"
"MRH-038," John supplies, and that's the one where they'd -
Oh.
Because there had been some sort of weird drink and some sort of 'sacred rite' and some sort of really amazing sex, and John had given him a lazy smile in the morning and kissed him and kissed him, and it's pretty much the best mission Cam can recall having.
Except now all he can think of is the weird drink and the bits of the priest's speech about a fertility rite, and-
"That was a month ago," he blurts. "How - what the - John, I don't even-"
"Welcome to the club," John says, and it should sound a little bitter, maybe, but it's delivered with that half-smile of John's and he doesn't look angry any more, so Cam walks over and sits on the edge of the bed.
John explains, sort of, about Beckett doing test after test when John had started to put on weight, and John recalling the mission, and how fucking weird it was to wake up every day feeling a lot more like a house.
"Um," Cam says again when John finishes and looks up at him expectantly. This is not a situation he knows how to respond to.
John's face closes off a little. "You're upset."
"No!" It bursts from Cam's lips, and he leans forward and puts a hand on John's stomach - on their baby - and takes John's nearest hand with his other. "Surprised, yeah. Weirded out, maybe a little, but you've gotta give me that one. But no, John, I'm not upset." He rubs his thumb across John's belly and stills when he feels something move, and looks down with astonishment as the baby kicks again.
"Yeah, it started doing that a couple of days ago," John offers. "Wakes me up at night."
"When are you going to - when's it-"
"Carson's going to take it out tomorrow," John says quietly. "I'm sorry. This is - crazy, I know, and you finally make it back and I'm having our kid tomorrow."
Cam lets out a breath. Tomorrow. He's going to be a father tomorrow. "Why didn't you tell me? I would have dropped everything-"
"That's why." John meets his eyes. "What you were doing is important, Cam. They needed you there."
"You needed me here," Cam replies, but John's right. They're in the beginning stages of declasification on Earth, and he's kind of a big part of it. And if John had told him, he'd have told them where they could shove their policies and careful proceedings and he'd have been back here in a split-second.
John just shrugs, though, and Cam knows he's considered all of this already. "You made it for the finale," he quips, smiling a little again, and Cam rubs his hand over the baby again and squeezes John's hand. Cam looks at his partner and thinks about tiny clothing and changing nappies and being exhausted for the next, oh, twenty years of his life, and he smiles back.
For Their Amusement: Cam/John, Bravo Sierra
It's hilarious to the handful of people who know, and really, John thinks it's kind of funny too.
"Bravo," someone calls down the hallway, and Cam looks up from his magazine, something investigating something else, as Rusty Saunders pops his head in a second later. "Foxtrot and I are going out with a few people. Interested?" His eyes slide to where John's sprawled on the couch, stomach down, working at a crossword puzzle. "Hey, Sierra. You're invited too."
"I'll pass," Cam replies easily, and John waves his hand and uses his pen to write erudite for 9-across. Rusty shrugs and continues his walk down the hall, and Cam snorts.
"Tango's losing it," he drawls, jerking his head after Saunders. "Sarge is gonna have his ass for going out on a school night."
John thinks it's amusing enough that there are twenty-six of them in this cohort of cadets, and that someone had decided to make their callsigns the words from the phonetic alphabet. He thinks it's even funnier that Bravo and Sierra ended up secretly sleeping together, because the law that keeps them from even smiling at each other for too long in public is the biggest piece of bullshit ever created. It's almost poetic justice.
But there they are, Bravo Sierra, in a dorm room at night while Foxtrot and Tango and the rest of the alphabet go get wasted, and John's kind of happy enough with his own particular brand of bullshit.
Wakeup: Lorne/Sheppard/Mitchell, "well that wasn't the exboyfriend I expected to hook up with today"
When Evan wakes up in the morning, the first thing he does is freeze. There's an arm around his middle, which is fine; he usually wakes up with John's arm slung around his waist, so that's not that weird. But John's molded into his front, and his arms definitely aren't anywhere near Evan's waist. There's someone behind Evan, someone big and warm and, at this point, unknown.
"Well," the guy says form behind him, "you weren't the ex I was expecting to hook up with last night."
And with that, Cam Mitchell presses a kiss to the back of Evan's neck, rolls out of the bed, and walks to the bathroom.
"Don't get me wrong," he continues a few minutes later when he comes back into the bedroom to see Evan turned over, his back to John, staring in Cam's general direction. "I'm not upset or anything, and hell, you look great, Evan."
A hand ghosts over his stomach, and Evan feels John press into his back. "You okay?" he asks quietly, and Evan nods.
"Morning," Cam says to John, who nods to him. "Jesus, John, your bedhead is even worse now than it was fifteen years ago."
"Not everyone goes for the so-closely-cropped-I-might-be-bald look," John shoots back, and it has the easy air of an argument that's been played over and over, words meant as affection rather than malice. Evan has about three seconds to process everything before Cam slips back into bed and rolls smack into Evan's chest, stretching his arm out to wrap around John's back with Evan in the middle.
"I didn't know you had-" Evan starts, looking at Cam, and John's hand tightens on his hip.
"Yeah," Cam says. "Before I met you."
"He was-"
"Yeah," Cam cuts him off, and there's nothing in his face or voice to indicate that something might be off, but they both know what he'd been about to say - the one you couldn't get over, the one who broke your heart.
It's silent for a little while longer, the three of them lying together in not-uncomfortable silence, despite shared and separate histories. Eventually, John's hand moves lower, and Cam's hand slides back to trace patterns into the skin on Evan's hip, and maybe Evan didn't expect to wake up like this, but he's not complaining.
Stranded: John/Cam, Love under blood red skies.
The planet is called Om'ran, and it would be an ideal place to be stranded, if John could just get over what it looks like.
Really, it's not a bad place. The locals are friendly and understanding; they've been provided a hut near the edge of the town, and they have work to do while they wait. The food is decent, and neither of them are malnourished, though they've been here for at least eight months.
John refuses to keep counting after the end of month six, but Cam keeps notching his sticks.
The thing that weirds him out, the thing that he can't get used to, is that the air is filled with a red sort of light. It's something to do with the sun, he knows, the star about to explode or implode or something else that probably isn't good, but it turns everything a shade that he just can't acclimate to. It still feels wrong to wake up here, to see Cam's face so rosy, to watch his own red hands tend the rows of grain in the field. He can't get used to it, no matter what, and it's what keeps him on his toes, keeps him from getting used to it.
Cam doesn't seem to mind, at least not any more, that they might very well spend the rest of their lives here. He's made friends with a bunch of the natives, and more nights than not, he stays at the campfire and tells stories about Earth and Atlantis and other things that these people will never see.
He always comes back to their hut, though. He always comes home at night to crawl in next to John, and if there's one thing about Om'ran that John can be grateful for, it's that living under these blood-red skies has given him the courage to finally say yes to Cam. By now, seven months into their relationship, John's not sure why he'd ever said no.
If this is the rest of his life, John thinks, he might actually be okay with it.
How He Is: Cam/John, accidental seduction
John is absolutely positive that Cam's not trying to seduce him. He's sure of it, because it's subtle enough that it's almost not there, and when he'd tried his own version of responding to it - flirting a little, making slightly more off-color jokes than usual - Cam had just seemed confused.
It's driving John crazy, though, because he's crashing in the guy's spare room while he's stuck on Earth for the next month or so in meetings, and Cam keeps walking around in boxers and socks with his hair all stuck up from sleep, or he'll leave the bathroom with just a towel around his waist and stop to talk to John for a minute on his way back to his bedroom, or he'll eat breakfast in just a pair of worn jeans on the weekends. And his eyes are really, really blue in the mornings, before the weight of the universe settles in, a color that even Lorne would have trouble mixing up.
And his drawl is just a touch heavier when he first wakes or when he's about to go to sleep, and John's always been a sucker for a country boy. And he loves football, and flying, and fast cars, and Ferris wheels, and John's going to have to find someone else's couch to crash on, else he's going to lose his damn mind.
Too late, he thinks later that week, because he and Cam are relaxing on the couch with a movie on, and John's had maybe a beer and a half, enough to loosen him up but not nearly enough to impair his judgment, and right in the middle of a scene with something exploding he leans across the two feet separating them and kisses Cam full on the lips.
Cam drops his beer.
John's standing and making his way into the kitchen before the liquid is done pouring form the bottle, and he's trying to toss his own bottle into the recycling bin and remember where his keys are and cram his feet into his shoes before he can make even more of an ass out of himself, but when he turns around in the kitchen after putting his bottle into the can, Cam's right there, looking at him.
"John-" he says, and when John doesn't meet his eyes and tries to just push past him into the hallway, Cam grabs him by the arms, looks right into his eyes, and kisses him soundly.
"Oh," John says when Cam pulls his head back. "I - was really about to fuck that up, wasn't I?"
"I probably would have forgiven you," Cam replies, and their faces are still just inches apart, so John leans forward and captures Cam's mouth with his own again.
"Walking around half-naked all the time and that damn stupid voice of yours and Michigan/Michigan State," John breathes. "How was I supposed to-"
"Sorry," Cam apologises, "it's just how I am," but he doesn't sound sorry at all as he threads his fingers into John's hair and draws him closer and closer until John can't do anything but kiss him again and again.
Trouble: Cam/John, "I told you I was trouble, You know that I'm no good"
"I told you I was going to fuck this up," John says, and there's blood welling in a cut on his bottom lip and his eyes are closed and his head is bowed. There's no resistance in his voice or his posture or anything. He looks like he's expecting Cam to hit him again, like he thinks he deserves it. "I told you I was no good at this."
"John," Cam says a little helplessly, his fist unclenching and dropping to his side. He's already regretting losing his temper. "John, sweetheart, talk to me."
"I told you," John repeats. "I slept with someone else."
"Context, John," Cam probes, because there's got to be more to it than that. It's not in John's character, for all he seems to think it is, and the way John's telling him - Cam knows there's more to the story.
"Offworld," John tells him, and he's looking over Cam's shoulder now. "There was - they had Teyla and McKay hostage, and they said-"
"They forced you?" There's a curl of anger in Cam's gut, white hot and distracting, and Cam forces it away for now.
"I did it willingly," John argues. "They would have killed my team if I didn't, so I just... tried not to think about it."
Cam takes a deep breath and steps towards John, hands carefully at his sides. "John," he says gently.
"I'm sorry," John says, and he takes a step back towards the door. Cam settles his hands on John's hips before he can run away completely, and John finally slides his eyes to meet Cam's.
"I'm not blaming you for anything," Cam says. "You didn't - they forced you, John, they didn't give you a choice."
"I didn't have to," John says hollowly.
"Did you want to?"
"No," John snaps instantly, and there's anger and hurt in his eyes. "No, Cam, I didn't want to bend over in front of the entire fucking tribe while my team watched-"
Cam keeps the lid on his anger firmly in place. "Do you want me to leave you?" he asks instead, more quietly, and John finally, finally loses the edge in his attitude. His shoulders drop and he falls a little forward.
"No," he says brokenly as his hands come up to cling to Cam's biceps. "God, no, no, Cam."
"I'm here," Cam murmurs to him over and over. "Don't worry, John. I'm here."
Celebrate: John/Cam, painting the town red
John swears he's never going to trust Vala again, because this is not what he had in mind when he agreed that she could plan a small, quiet celebration. There are people every-damn-where, and there's enough food to feed all of Colorado Springs, and John's pretty sure there's an entire room filled with gifts.
Cam lust laughs at the look on John's face. "It's just a few hours," he says as they walk in. "Smile and say 'thank you' a lot."
John barely has the time to glare at his husband before Vala whisks him away and he disappears into the crowd.
"Sheppard," a voice calls, and then John's swept up as well, and he pastes a fake smile on his face and goes.
It's five hours before he and Cam are packing the last of the gifts into the back of John's car. It's a lot of stuff, John thinks, most of which they'll probably never use, and will clutter up their apartment until they can give it away. It's a little ridiculous, the amount of gifts Vala had scared or coerced people into purchasing, and John sighs as he finally gets the door closed with everything inside. He's had to repack the back seat three times.
Cam slings an arm around his waist and kisses his temple as they stand next to the car. "I love you," he says, clear and loud, and there's no way that Captain Jarvis in the next car didn't hear it, but she just smiles a little as she drives away.
John relaxes a little and smiles at Cam. "Love you, too," he replies, and they get in the car and drive home together.
And look look at the shiny new icon! kazbaby made it and I totally stole it as soon as I saw it, because loooooooook at it. :D