D (denyce) wrote in lorne_sheppard,

FIC: Four Days 1/1 SGA (Lorne/Sheppard, FRT)

Title: Four Days
Author: Denyce
Fandom: SGA
Pairings: Lorne/Sheppard
Rating: FRT for language
Warnings: none
Spoilers: S2 post Coup D’ ETAT
Word count: 926
Note: Written for slashing_lorne's Nov Challenge. Mega KUDOS to vagablonde for the beta..any mistakes are mine for the twitchy tweaking I'm always doing..jlkm, thanks! Otherwise I hope you like ;-)

“Four days!”

“As I explained, and in triplicate, sir.”

“I read the report, Major.” John thumbed through the report in question then almost threw it on his desk as he stood. Nervously John clasped his hands behind him as he turned and addressed Lorne. “Doesn’t change the facts. Your team…YOU didn’t make any contact in four days.”

Gritting his teeth, Evan couldn’t help but be annoyed for the dress down, or for the unfairness of it. It just wasn’t something he expected from John. As it was, he had been gone for a total of six days. Four of those days were without contact with Atlantis. And it wasn’t like being stranded on MR2-140 was his idea of fun in the sun. It was a desert planet reminiscent of Death Valley, and unfortunately for him there was another coup. This time the coup was relatively small and harmless compared to the Genii. It also didn’t change the fact he and his team were stuck in the middle with neither side willing to help them out when things went sour, not to mention having to make shelter and provisions in 100-degree weather with sporadic combat fighting around them. Then there was dealing with Henderson, who they quickly discovered was too skittish for off world missions and a long way from McKay’s talent, who tried to work on the DHD crystals that were accidentally damaged in one of the skirmishes.

He was safely back less than a day, during which he had already briefed Dr. Weir and seen Carson, when his CO had demanded he file his mission report immediately before retiring. Complying with John’s orders Evan ignored his lack of sleep and slightly stiff body from the sunburned and typed up his report.

Now three hours later and standing at attention in John’s office, Lorne was quickly losing his patience. “We made contact as soon as it was possible and deemed safe…sir.”

Jaws clenched, John bit the inside of his cheek trying to contain his temper. Silently he had to admit his reaction was irrational, but it did nothing to stop the anger and panic that had already taken root. The panic he didn’t like but actually understood. It was something he had whenever Lorne left Atlantis, but now it was still too soon after Ladon’s coup. Just thinking of holding Evan’s dogtags. John tried to shake off the feelings, but they never left. The hardest to shallow was his anger. Anger at himself that he wasn’t there to be Lorne’s six.

It didn’t matter he was military. That he had lost men before. The reality was it was never easy. He had a career of going against orders not to leave anyone behind. But none of that was the same as this. Lorne wasn’t just a soldier, or his SiC. He was Evan. More than just a fellow soldier, or a friend he was John’s lover and the reality, the real fear of losing Evan sliced deeply, deeper than he had words for.

He wasn’t sure how long they stood there in a standoff, but suddenly Evan broke attention stepping forward, grabbing and slamming John up against the wall. Eyes defiant, Evan’s breath was harsh, struggling for words.


Angrily John tried to push back, but Evan only held him in place. Moments flew by, each struggling against the other until Evan pressed his body flat against John’s, body pinning him against the wall.

Instantly John stilled and knew when Evan felt his body tremble from his touch.

Frustrated Evan cursed, unable to continue looking at the anguish reflected in John’s eyes, “Fuck.” Leaning forward, he thoroughly kissed his CO. Minutes passed; John struggled to pull away, afraid of giving everything away. With each struggle Evan took the kiss deeper. Pushing back, holding John tighter and dominating the kiss until he felt John’s anger start to ebb away.

Slowly Evan pulled back, only enough to catch his breath, but continued to lick and nibble John’s lips. His own breath panted hot against John’s. Fingers laced through John’s hair holding him in place, his heart racing. “Out there we do what we have to.” One hand moved to tenderly tilt John’s head back forcing John to face him. “You have to trust me… that if I can I’ll always come back to you.”

With a tenderness he didn’t know he could express, Evan’s lips ghosted over John’s.

Acknowledging his words, John’s gaze questioningly held Evan’s. They had never said the words, but now it was in their actions; declaring their need, their fear, and their love. Steadying himself with each breath, Evan recounted the numerous times, too many to count when became a question about whether John was coming back alive. It happened too many times and wasn’t something he liked considering. Instead he’d shove those feelings down, try to not feel or give voice to those thoughts, but not anymore. Swallowing hard unable to on hiding, Evan allowed each word to reflect his emotionally charged feelings; his voice raspy even to his owns ears as he whispered, “Just as I trust you John… that you’ll come back to me.”

Stunned, John mutely nodded, as he finally understood.

Initially the kiss was hesitant each understanding they were suddenly in new territory. They were no longer fuck buddies, or even just close friends… it was more even if they didn’t put into words what they were feeling—it was there. No longer ignored or intangible, instead it was fully embraced with each touch, each look, and each kiss.


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