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High School Confidential: John

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Everything was silver and gold, John thought euphorically. The lights over the field were golden bars, the cheers and cries created a wave of silver sound, and the championship trophy shone brilliant gold. He held the trophy over his head, as he was lifted onto his teammates' shoulders, happier that he could ever recall being.

The coach hadn't expected him to do well when he'd tried out for the football team. He'd given John's skinny body a skeptical look and suggested he should try cross-country running. But John had persevered, insisting on his chance. He'd played at his last school, and he was going to keep playing. And now he'd won. The team had won, because of him.

The events after the game passed in a blur, being paraded around the stadium, people hugging him, at one point his dads squeezing him, Gil yelling, "We're so proud of you," as Adam grinned, his mouth curling up higher at one side, just like John's did. Finally he was in the locker room, dozens of people still talking and whooping, the noise diminishing as visitors trailed away so the team could change. John got out of his sweaty uniform and pads, showering before putting on his black t-shirt, faded blue jeans, and white sneakers. Standing at his locker, fussing with his hair, he looked in the small mirror at himself, realizing he was smiling insanely, reliving the game in his mind.

"Hey, John." Mitch slapped him on the back. "We got a present for you."

"A present?" John's mind was still focused on the championship game, one of the sweetest, most satisfying games he'd ever played. "What?"

"Come on." Mitch tugged at his arm, pulling him to the back of the locker room. Most everyone had cleared out, leaving only Mitch, Dex, Chad, and Josh. They all followed too, from their smiles already in on the secret. He didn't need any presents to make this night any more fabulous, but it was cool to think of his teammates planning a special surprise for him, before he'd even won the game.

The shower area was all white tile and silver fixtures except for the bound figure on the floor. "What the hell?" John said, surprised. He recognized Rodney McKay, of course. Everyone knew Rodney. It was hard to miss someone that loud, even in a high school with a couple thousand students. Rodney should have been in college already. At least, that's what he told everyone frequently, blaming his parents for being switches who argued constantly about Rodney's future rather than letting him advance. He did a lot of independent study, took some classes at the local college, and irritated both teachers and students alike. He was dressed in blue jeans and a t-shirt that proclaimed "I'm Sorry I Don't Moron," with a gag in his mouth and his hands and feet bound.

"He was watching you, so we got him for you."

"He's a top," John said dumbly. He was a top too; he'd known that since he was fourteen. He hadn't ever heard Rodney say what he was, but surely someone that loud and noisy would be a top.

"Who cares?" Mitch grabbed Rodney by his shoulders, hauling him onto his knees. Rodney was obviously trying to speak, making loud noises behind the gag. "He was watching you from behind the bleachers. I bet he's a switch. Or a sub."

"I can't just take him," John protested. "Jesus, Mitch."

"Everyone's heard him talk about football and how stupid it is. He deserves to be taken down."

"Christ." The wad of cloth in Rodney's mouth was held in place by a stretched black wristband, the color making an ugly black slash across the fairness of his complexion. His eyes seemed even more intently blue than normal, and his wavy blond hair was disheveled, sticking out in every direction worse than John's own cowlicks. John grabbed the wristband at the back of Rodney's head, pulling it over his head and extracting the material. "Are you okay?"

"You Neanderthals. You assholes. I am going to report you to the principal. He will paddle your asses in front of the entire school for this."

Mitch slapped his hand over Rodney's mouth. "Your mouth should be put to better use. Come on, John, make him suck your cock."

"Jesus, Mitch." John batted Mitch's hand away from Rodney's mouth. "Are you okay?" he asked again, not that Rodney paid any more attention to the question this time.

"Your asses are going to be red with welts. You won't be able to sit for a week."

"McKay, this isn't a good time to be threatening people," John felt compelled to recommend. Though he could tell Mitch was the ringleader, the other guys were looking antsy and uncomfortable. They'd all be in trouble if Rodney shot his mouth off. Which they should be, because what the hell had they been thinking? But they were John's teammates, and he'd spent many hours with them, felt loyalty and affection toward them. "Look, you just forget about this, and we'll let you go."

"If you won't make him suck your cock, he can suck mine," Mitch said, beginning to unzip his jeans. "He'll keep his mouth shut then. He won't tell anyone he's been used."

"No!" Still on his knees, Rodney tried to scoot away from Mitch, moving awkwardly with the bindings around his feet.

"We need to let him go," John said, shocked at Mitch's attitude.

"He's such a jerk," Dex chimed in. "Come on, John, make him suck your dick. It ought to be worth it if he's going to get us in trouble."

"He can suck mine." Mitch had his dick out, pumping it, getting it hard.

"John won the game," Dex said, catching Rodney's jaw in his hand, forcing his mouth to open. "It ought to be him."

"Then do it," Mitch snarled at John. "Do it."

Rodney twisted away from Dex's grip, his voice low and scared, desperation in his blue eyes as he looked up at John, and said, "I'd rather it was you than him."

"I knew he wanted you," Chad added. "He says football sucks but he always watches you."

John looked around at the guys, all his friends, and the expressions on their faces, eager and anxious and angry. Josh hadn't said anything, but his support was clear. John didn't understand what the hell had made them think this was a good idea, but he feared Rodney wouldn't be safe if he walked away. Probably all four would use him. And John knew he couldn't just take Rodney away from them. They were all bigger than him, built for tackling other players to the ground, not for running.

"Oh for fuck's sake, do it and then let me the hell loose," Rodney ordered, more frightened than demanding. "They're not going to let me go until they've got their kicks."

Dropping to one knee, John whispered in Rodney's ear. "I'm sorry. Is it okay to do it?" Rodney nodded, and John stood, unzipping his jeans and pulling his dick out of his boxers, giving Mitch a glare. Mitch looked sullen, but he tucked himself away as John held out his dick toward Rodney. He was still soft and had a sudden worry that he wouldn't get erect, surrounded by his friends and knowing that Rodney was being forced into this act. Then Rodney leaned forward, his tongue flicking out to taste the end of John's dick, and John began to get hard. "Oh yeah, Rodney," John said, slipping his fingers into Rodney's blond hair. He didn't hold his head, just filled his fingers, appreciating the feel of the soft waviness. "Yeah."

John had been having sex for two years now, playing around more than anything, encouraged by his dads to experiment and develop as a top. He'd had blow jobs before and knew what they felt like. Rodney was tentative, exploring, as if he hadn't done this a lot. John had expected Rodney would take his cock deep in his mouth, trying to get this done fast, but Rodney kept licking at John's dick, the head and along the shaft, like John's dick was a chocolate ice cream cone and Rodney had a sweet tooth. John petted his hair, trying to reassure him, feeling need and desire build in his balls and belly. Maybe Rodney didn't know enough to try to get it finished quickly.

Rodney finally opened his mouth wide, bobbing his head forward to take John inside. Not all of his length, but several inches. "Christ," John breathed, because the warmth and heat felt so good. Rodney might be a novice, but he was a fast learner, and he was absolutely gorgeous with his thin lips wrapped around John's dick, his blue eyes staring intently up at John.

"Fuck his face," Mitch said, making John remember that others were present. He'd forgotten in his absorption with Rodney. "Make him take it."

"Shut up, Mitch," he swore, even as Rodney loosened his lips and tilted his head back, signaling his willingness to be used. "Christ," he said again, burying his other hand into Rodney's hair, holding his head, and obeying Mitch's suggestion, rocking back and forth in his sneakers, working himself deeper and deeper into Rodney's mouth. Rodney's eyes slowly closed, accepting what was happening even as he blinded himself to it, which was the hottest fucking submission John had ever seen. He gasped as he came, shooting down Rodney's throat, feeling the ripples as Rodney's mouth worked and he swallowed.

Feeling a bit numb from the pleasure, John tucked himself and restored his clothes, his gaze focused fully on Rodney. A click and a zip noise registered, and he looked over to see Mitch freeing himself again. "My turn," he said.

John didn't really remember what happened next, only the pure red haze and anger that he felt surging through his veins and the sensation of Mitch's nose breaking under his fist. He didn't care that Mitch and the others were larger than him. He was too caught up in fury and rage that anyone would dare to threaten to abuse Rodney. He didn't come back to himself until the others dragged him off Mitch. He was shocked to see the blood streaming down Mitch's face, but struggled against the arms holding him, not willing to stop until he heard Rodney's voice calling to him, begging him. "John, please, let's get out of here. Get me out of here. John, goddamnit, stop."

Shaking himself loose from his friends, John knelt by Rodney, undoing the material binding his hands and feet, and gently pulling him up.

"John," someone said, Chad maybe. Acting on pure instinct, John drew back his fist and threw a powerful punch. Rodney was no longer some jerky kid in his high school, but his sub who needed to be protected, and no one was ever going to hurt him again. Without waiting to see Chad's reaction, John wrapped an arm around Rodney's waist, hustling him out of the locker room, through the gym, and out to the school's parking lot. Fortunately, most everyone had gone, leaving only a handful of cars. John didn't stop until he reached his own, the used car his dads had helped him buy, a little battered on the exterior but with a perfectly tuned engine.

Leaning against the car, he pulled Rodney fully into his arms, tremors running through his body. Bile rose in his throat, and John seriously thought he might be sick. "God, I'm sorry, Rodney. I'm so sorry."

"It wasn't your idea."

"I'm the one who did it."

"Better you than him."

John buried his face in Rodney's shoulder, feeling the soft cotton t-shirt, the even softer hair and skin, smelling Rodney's scent overlaid by sweat and sex. "It shouldn't have been anyone. You shouldn't have been forced."

"No," Rodney agreed. "I shouldn't have been. Your friends are assholes."

"Yeah." John laughed a little shakily, feeling like an asshole himself. "I realize that." He stroked Rodney's hair, looking in his eyes. There was a little blood on the back of his right hand, which he quickly rubbed off on his shirt. "I enjoyed it," he confessed.

Rodney glanced away, shame on his features. His voice was so quiet, it was almost impossible to hear as he also confessed, "I enjoyed it, too."

"Have you been watching me?" John asked, because he'd certainly noticed Rodney. Not that he would ever have thought to act on the interest, since he'd been convinced that Rodney was a top.

"You're the football quarterback. You're at every rally I'm forced to attend. I could hardly not watch you."

"Rodney." John squeezed him a little, needing to know the truth. "Do you hate me?" He waited, his mind not patient, but forcing himself not to demand an immediate answer. Rodney had confessed to enjoying being coerced, but he could still hate John for being the one responsible. Was he only now realizing he was a sub?

"No," Rodney said finally. "I don't hate you. I thought I was a top. I thought I could never want something like that. To be on my knees, to have to submit."

"You thought?"

"I thought," Rodney confirmed, but he didn't say anything else. His jaw was tight, but he hid his eyes by staring down at his feet.

"I should get you home," John said, fishing his car keys out of his pocket. He unlocked the car, waited until Rodney sat in the passenger seat, then shut the car door for him. His dads had taught him how to treat a sub. He went around the car, let himself in and put on his seatbelt. Feeling like he was running on automatic, he started the car and drove out of the parking lot, not even focusing as he turned toward his house.

"I haven't... done much," Rodney said, when they were only a few blocks from John's home. "People usually find me arrogant or intimidating. They're not interested in playing with me."

"I'm glad." The car's lights flashed on the name of his street as he turned onto it. "That you haven't done much," he added, to clarify. Actually, he was okay with people finding Rodney arrogant or intimidating, if it meant that John could be the first one to truly top him, to introduce him to his own submissive nature. "I didn't ask where you live. I just brought you home."

"My parents won't notice if I'm home or not. They don't care."

"I care," John said. "My dads'll care." He parked in front of their house, where they'd lived for almost a year and were expected to remain for the rest of John's senior year in high school. John had always been proud of his dads for being in the military, for serving their country, but it was nice to be stable for a while. "Come in and meet them."

"They won't like me. No one likes me. I'm bad with people."

"They'll like you." John gazed at Rodney's profile, the high forehead, the one visible blue eye, the long nose with the funny end, the mouth which slanted to one side, the skin still marred by the impression of the black wristband, the curly blond hair. "You're my sub."

Rodney turned his head to look fully at him. "Am I?"

"Yes," he said firmly, because after the way he'd felt in the locker room, he knew Rodney had to be his. "I'm taking you as my sub. If you would do me the honor?" he added, more formally.

Rodney hesitated, and John wondered if his heart was going to stop, then Rodney said softly, "Yes. You're my top now. You have my freely given submission."

John cupped Rodney's chin and brought their lips together, kissing his sub for the first time. The moment was magical, just as his dads had always claimed. Rodney's lips were soft and welcoming, and John felt the same primal rush he'd felt in the locker room, defending Rodney from Mitch. Rodney was his sub. He ended the kiss. "My dad's will love you. Come meet them."

They got out of the car, and John took Rodney's hand as they walked into the house. His dads were both in the living room, Gil sitting up on the couch, Adam lying on it with his head in Gil's lap, both dressed in casual shirts and sweats. Adam wore his silver collar, but Gil had taken off his belt and draped it on the coffee table, next to a brandy glass, as if they'd been sharing a nightcap. "Hi, Dad, Dad. This is Rodney," John announced proudly. "He's my sub."

"That's great, John," Adam said, swinging off of the couch and standing up. He gave a glance for approval to John, who nodded, and then Adam hugged Rodney. Gil also stood, with the same glance, and how cool was that? John had never introduced anyone as 'his sub' before, only as friends, so his dads had never sought permission before touching. Gil hugged John next, as Adam sat back down. Gil kept his hands on John's shoulders, his gaze unnervingly penetrating. Adam was his biological father, but Gil and John were both tops, which seemed to allow Gil to understand him better.

"Something happened tonight, didn't it?" Gil asked. "After the game?"

"Can we talk in the morning?" John answered. He knew he'd have to tell Gil the truth, but he didn't want to discuss it now, not when his emotions were so mixed, shame from what he'd done combined with the high from claiming his first sub.

"Okay." Gil nodded, agreeing to John's request, but his eyes warned that he would expect full disclosure. "In the morning. Is Rodney staying the night?"

John squeezed Rodney's fingers. "Yes?" he asked, looking at Rodney for agreement. Rodney nodded hesitantly.

"And Rodney's parents know?"

"They won't care. They never care about anything I do."

"But we care," Gil said flatly, speaking for both him and Adam. "They need to approve. You can call them."

For a second, John thought Rodney might argue, but then his mouth shut, which was wise because no one argued successfully with Gil. Rodney went to the phone and called home. Gil sat back down with Adam while John perched on the chair, and they listened as Rodney talked to his parents.

"Hi Mom, I'm going to spend the night at a friend's. A top. I didn't mean to wake you. His parents thought you should know. Yeah, okay. Bye."

John could tell by the expression on Gil's face that he'd expected more, for Rodney to have to say which friend or for his mom to want to speak to John's parental top, but Gil didn't voice any criticism. "We'll see you kids in the morning then."

"Good night, Dad, Dad." John grabbed Rodney by the hand and pulled him down the hall, into his bedroom.

"Your dads are letting us go to bed together?" Rodney hissed as he entered John's room. "In their house?"

"Why wouldn't they?" John asked, surprised at the question. Since John had discovered that he was a top, Gil had always been the one to discuss sex with John, and he'd always advocated being responsible, which included a safe environment. A top should never expose his sub to unnecessary risks.

"Because..." Rodney's words failed him as his hands flailed in the air, trying to finish.

"Your mom understood you were staying with your top, didn't she?"

"I never know what my parents understand, except that they like arguing. They won't let me go to college because then they'd only have Jeannie to fight over. They certainly wouldn't agree on something like letting me take someone into my bedroom for sex."

"That sucks." Rodney's parents sounded really screwed up. At another time, he might have pursued it more, because everything in his sub's life was important to him, but at the moment, John could only focus on how good Rodney looked standing in John's bedroom. The walls were white and the carpet beige, standard boring colors for a rental, but John had decorated the walls with pictures of fighter planes and his family. "But you're okay being here, right?" He placed his hands on Rodney's hips, stepping close to him.

"Yes." Almost hesitantly, Rodney took a half-step toward John, laying his head on John's shoulder.

"I'm really sorry about what happened tonight. What they did to you was wrong. What I did to you."

"Your friends are Neanderthals."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Can we stop talking about it now?" Rodney asked plaintively. "Because if you really do mean that you're going to be my top, I'd rather move on to enjoying that."

They could, at least until the morning when Gil found out, but John didn't want to think about that repercussion. It had been almost two years since he'd been strapped. Instead of answering, he combed his fingers through Rodney's hair, tilting his head, covering his lips with his own. Rodney tasted so good, his mouth so sweet. "I want to see you come," John said, not knowing what he wanted until the words came out of his mouth.

Rodney blinked, surprised, as if it hadn't occurred to him that his needs might come first. "That works for me. That seriously works for me."

"Take your clothes off."

Rodney pulled his t-shirt over his head, dropping it to the floor, and kicked his shoes off. He paused with his hands on the waistband of his jeans.

"Now, Rodney," John said. "All of it." He'd done this part before, ordered a sub around, but never with this satisfying sense of power.

Rodney swallowed noticeably and continued, removing his jeans, briefs, and socks, to stand naked in front of John, hands resting on his thighs. Rodney was almost as tall as John, but much thinner and less hairy.

"You need to eat more." John stroked Rodney's ribs and down to his jutting hipbones.

"I eat a lot. I just burn a lot of energy." Rodney bit his lip. "You don't like how I look?"

"I love how you look. You're gorgeous." He brushed his fingers over Rodney's nipples, which were pink and perfect.

Rodney blushed. "Not like you."

"Do you really watch me?" He'd asked before, but Rodney had evaded a real answer.

This time Rodney gave one tight nod. "Yes."

"Good. I'm glad. And now I want to see you come." He pushed Rodney to sit on the edge of his bed, sinking down to his knees in front of him.

"Oh god," Rodney said, biting his lip to prevent any more words escaping.

"Talk to me, Rodney. Tell me what you're thinking. I want to know."

"I thought I'd die tonight when your friends grabbed me and tied me up and now I'm a sub and the football star is on his knees in front of me. Not that I'm complaining, but are you sure you're a top? You're supposed to insist on coming first and be all dominant and controlling."

He had already come once tonight, but John was willing to ignore that if Rodney wasn't bringing it up. This was the true beginning of their relationship. "Don't worry; I'm definitely a top. And mostly I'll come first. But I want to learn everything about you. What turns you on, what makes you come so hard you see stars, what you look like when you scream."

Rodney's eyes were enormous as his dick rose between his thighs, getting hard.

John grinned. "You like dirty talk, don't you?"

"I like you... saying what you're going to do. I like that a lot."

"I'm going to do all of that and more. You'll learn all about submitting," John promised.

Rodney whimpered. John grinned again before bending his head to Rodney's cock. Like him, it was beautiful, long and red, a drop of pre-come already glistening on the tip. John learned Rodney's cock, every inch of it, each place he liked to be licked, the amount of suction he enjoyed. Rodney didn't move, didn't budge, just whimpered and moaned, giving John verbal clues. It was the most fascinating and gratifying subject John had ever mastered, and he was fully hard again by the time Rodney spurted in his mouth.

"You're perfect," John said, kissing Rodney's mouth, letting him taste himself.

"I didn't know it could be that good." Rodney's voice was rich with satiation, a much better sound than when he'd been in the locker room.

"I'm glad." John pulled the covers back, then pushed on Rodney's shoulders, easing him onto the bed, lifting his feet and arranging him on the white sheets. "You're perfect. So submissive, letting me do what I want."

"I just can't believe I feel like this," Rodney blurted out.

John sat on the edge of the bed, stroking from Rodney's chest to his thighs. "It's good, right?"

"My parents are switches. They fight all the time and I've always had to fight with both of them. I never thought that I would enjoy submitting. It's not me."

"It's you as you were meant to be."

Rodney sounded doubtful. "If you say so."

"I do." John had never felt so confident, so toppy. He knew what was right for both of them, and this was it. Gil had always said he'd know when he'd found 'the right moment,' and Gil's prediction had been correct. He and Rodney were meant to be together. "Just relax and enjoy. You don't have to fight me."

John stood and undressed, conscious of Rodney's eyes on him the entire time, hoping that Rodney liked his naked body as much as he did Rodney's, and pretty sure from the way Rodney was avidly watching that he did. He took the lube out of his nightstand drawer, placing it on the edge of the bed, and settled between Rodney's legs, before indulging in more kissing. It was even sweeter and sexier when lying on top of Rodney, the entire length of their bodies touching.

Then he learned Rodney's body as well as he'd learned his dick, touching and tasting every inch of his skin. His chest, nipples, arms, legs, toes... all of it was virgin territory for John's lips and tongue to explore. Rodney whimpered and moaned, revealing his sensitive spots, the little patches of skin that drove him wild when John teased them. He tried to touch John back, to return the favor, but John grabbed his hands, curling his fingers around the headboard. "Don't touch. Submit, Rodney. Submit."

Rodney gave a gratifying whine, his fingers tightening on the wood. John knew he should explore Rodney's other side as thoroughly, particularly his rounded butt that John had occasionally admired in the hallways at school, but his dick was too hard to wait. Tomorrow, John promised himself. Tomorrow he would put his sub over his lap and spank him for the first time. Picking up the lube, John spurted some on his fingers. "You haven't done this before?" he asked for confirmation.

"No," Rodney confirmed, even as he spread his legs, obviously eager for John to take his virginity.

"Good." John had never particularly thought about having a virgin as a partner, but it was unbearably exciting to know he'd be Rodney's first.

As John's finger penetrated Rodney, he could tell Rodney was trying to be a good sub, taking slow breaths to relax himself. "You're so tight, Rodney. So warm and tight."

"I'm body temperature," Rodney said shakily.

"Scientist," John returned fondly, for everyone had heard of Rodney's aspirations to win a Nobel Prize. Only a few of the kids at school even knew where they wanted to go to college, so Rodney's loudly proclaimed goals had set him apart. John had always known he wanted to join the Air Force and fly, so he'd never found Rodney odd. He bent his head, nipping at Rodney's pointed nipple, taking advantage of Rodney's yelp of surprise to insert another finger, patiently stretching his muscle, determined to make this experience pain-free. Soon they would start experimenting with how much Rodney could take, but today John wanted him to know only pleasure. "Does that feel okay?"

"It burns a little. But it's a good burn."

He had to smother Rodney's mouth with a deep kiss, slipping another finger in as their tongues met in a wet caress. Rodney's acceptance fed his every toppy urge. "You are so gorgeous," he said, admiring Rodney's body, all long, thin limbs and pale skin. John kept his fingers working, and Rodney gave an abrupt gasp, his throat arching back.

Jackpot. Without even searching for it, he'd found Rodney's prostate. "You like that, don't you?"

"John," was all Rodney seemed capable of saying, and John reveled in being able to drive his talkative sub into incoherency. He withdrew his fingers, lubed up his cock, and positioned himself over Rodney, the tip of his dick nudging at the entrance of Rodney's body. He paused, his weight braced on his elbows and knees, grateful that he'd experimented and wasn't a novice. Rodney deserved someone who knew what he was doing.

"Everything good?"

Rodney's legs squeezed his hips. "Yes. Really good."

"Good." Kissing Rodney again, John pushed into Rodney's ass, the feel of his opening squeezing John's dick exquisite. He kept thrusting forward, slowly, steadily, gauging Rodney's response by the eagerness of his kiss and the noises emerging from the back of his throat. He retreated twice, letting Rodney get accustomed and then nudged his hips forward more, until every inch of his dick was within Rodney. "Still good?"

"You don't look hung like a horse. Big, yes, big, but not absurdly huge. So why do you feel hung like a horse?"

John laughed gently. "But it's still good, right?"

"God, yes, and I don't believe in religion, so I don't say that lightly. You can start moving now."

He nipped at Rodney's lower lip. "Are you going to be a pushy bottom?"

"If that's what it takes to get you moving, then yes."

John started thrusting his hips, his rhythm slow, determine to enjoy every second. "You're going to be a challenge." Even better than the physical pleasure was the visual excitement of watching Rodney, the way his face revealed his emotions. The burning and stretching he'd initially felt was quickly replaced by pleasure. Rodney was loving being claimed, which made John feel immensely powerful. This was even better than winning the game and being surrounded by screaming fans.

"Did I mention I'm stubborn and determined too, as well as argumentative and bad with people?"

John slowed his hips to a leisurely crawl, making Rodney wait. "I'll learn to handle you," he promised.

"I think you will," Rodney breathed, surprise in his eyes, as if he was understanding John for the first time.

"Yeah. I will." Rodney didn't answer, and John didn't speak again, both of them breathing loudly. John continued driving into Rodney's plump ass, sweat making their skin glide as their bodies slapped against each other. There was sweat on Rodney's face too, the wetness darkening tendrils of blond hair, making it cling to his forehead. Rodney was obedient, never moving his grip from the headboard, but his legs squeezed with more desperation, and his cock was a fiery presence, poking into John's lower abdomen.

As Rodney's breathing got harsher, he threw his head back, nostrils flaring as he struggled for air. The long line of his arched throat was beautiful, and John felt compelled to sink his teeth into the soft skin, biting and sucking, marking his sub, creating a bruise that would last for days, another first for the two of them. Rodney yelled at the sharp feel of John's teeth and came, wetness exploding between them. The clinging spasms of Rodney's body drove John into his own orgasm, and he bellowed loudly, victoriously. He was a top who'd claimed his sub.


The knock was quiet, but John woke instantly, knowing the time had arrived. Rodney was on his front, sleeping soundly. John was draped over him, but carefully disengaged and dressed quickly. Gil was in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. John joined him, getting out plates and silverware. "What happened last night, John?"

John told him the unvarnished truth, how his friends had ambushed and bound Rodney, how John had felt compelled to take advantage of him, how he'd attacked Mitch and hit Chad in a wild rage.

Gil listened, cooking all the time, his face impassive. "You couldn't just take Rodney and leave?" he finally asked.

"It was... weird. I thought they wouldn't let me. They're all bigger than me."

"That didn't stop you later."

"I wasn't thinking later. I only knew Mitch might hurt Rodney."

"You learned important things about yourself last night, and the kind of top you'll be."

"Protective," John said.

"Protective and possessive. You're very like me. But you should have tried harder to take Rodney out of the situation before you forced him into oral copulation."

John nodded, knowing he had no defense for his lack of action. He hated that he'd disappointed Gil, and swore to himself that his father would never again disapprove of how John treated his sub.

"That'll be twenty with the strap, and I want the names of your friends." He pushed over the pad that normally held the grocery list. "Write them down."

"You're going to talk to their parents?"

"Yes. All of them, today. They can't be allowed to treat another human being that way. It's wrong."

Under normal circumstances, Rodney's parents would be the ones going to the other parents for satisfaction. John wasn't sure if Gil was taking the task because Rodney was his son's sub, or because he didn't trust Rodney's parents to do it right, but John didn't ask. He finished writing down the names as Rodney walked into the kitchen, hesitating in the doorway, dressed in last night's clothes, feet bare.

"Good morning, Rodney," Gil said easily. "I was working on breakfast. John, get yourself and Rodney some juice. We have orange or cranberry."

"I'm deathly allergic to all citrus."

"Get the cranberry juice out, John. Are you allergic to anything else?"

"Bee stings."

"But nothing else food-wise?"

"No, nothing else for food," Rodney said, taking a seat.

John poured three glasses of cranberry juice, bending over to give Rodney a kiss as he set a glass in front of him. "What's wrong?" he asked, because he'd learned a lot about how much Rodney's eyes and expressions revealed, and they were saying Rodney was discomforted.

"It's nothing."

"Rodney," John said softly, taking the chair next to him. "What's wrong?" Gil didn't say anything, pouring batter for pancakes, but John knew he was listening.

"My own family drinks orange juice. They don't see why they shouldn't have something they enjoy because I can't drink it."

The thought that Rodney's family was so inconsiderate made John angry, but he didn't want to say anything against them. "We can have orange juice other mornings."

Adam strolled into the living room. "I thought I smelled bacon."

"About time, sleepy head." Gil tugged Adam into a kiss, making it a lengthy one as Adam allowed his lean body to conform to Gil's bigger one. John noted the way Rodney tried to pretend he wasn't watching, which made him wonder if his parents were ever affectionate. His parents showed how much they loved each other every day. He took Rodney's hand, lacing their fingers together. From now on, his sub would always know affection.


John would remember that breakfast for the rest of his life. In some ways, it was perfectly normal, Gil cooking eggs, bacon and pancakes, all of them sharing the newspaper, sometimes talking, sometimes silently enjoying their food and coffee, Gil and Adam sharing a plate. But it was Rodney's first breakfast with the Sheppard family. He absorbed everything, hesitantly contributing as if he wasn't quite sure how to behave, occasionally making a brash statement about his genius or future, acting as if he expected to be shot down, and receiving only interested support. Watching Adam accept food from Gil made John wonder if Rodney would be willing to share a plate, and resolved to ask him soon.

After breakfast, as John and Adam were bussing the dishes and cleaning the table, Gil swallowed the last of his coffee and said, "It's time for your discipline, John. Do you want to watch, Rodney?"

"Um... what?" Rodney asked, looking shocked.

"John needs to be disciplined for what he did last night, and for what he failed to do. You have the right to watch if you want. He gets twenty strokes with the strap."

Adam raised his eyebrows but he didn't say anything, though he didn't know what had happened to cause the need for discipline. John knew that Adam wouldn't interfere, because he trusted Gil's judgment and role as top in the family. Rodney, on the other hand, was glancing between all three of them, seemingly waiting for someone to tell him what was going on.

"You're going to discipline him? With the strap?"

"He should have made more of an effort to get you free, and he shouldn't have abused you."

Adam jerked, giving John a curious stare, but kept silent.

"But you're really going to discipline him for it?"

"He did wrong, and he knows it."

Rodney looked at John, wide-eyed, at Gil, and finally at the table, his color high on his cheeks as he confessed, "I... liked it. I never realized I could like being a sub."

"I appreciate your honesty, but that doesn't excuse what John did. That shouldn't have been how you learned about your own sexuality."

"John wasn't even the one who thought it up," Rodney protested, and John found his sub's defense warming. "It wasn't his idea."

"I know. John's given me the list of the other kids involved. I'll talk to their parents today and make sure that they're disciplined. You can go with me if you like."

"Are you insane? You can't do that!"

Gil frowned heavily at Rodney, surprised. "I can't let them go unpunished."

"You have to. I have to see them at school. If you get their parents to discipline them, they'll make my life hell. Believe me, I'd love to see them whipped raw, but I'd like to avoid being stuffed in a locker every day for the rest of the school year."

"They won't be that stupid. They'll know the consequences if they take another step against you."

"Are you kidding? Have you met those kids? They don't have three brain cells to rub together among the four of them."

John could tell from his dad's expression that Gil didn't appreciate Rodney's lack of respect, and was frantically trying to think of some way to signal him to be more circumspect in his wording, when Adam stepped away from the sink, placing his hands on Gil's shoulders from behind. He leaned over, his dark hair resting against Gil's blond. "You don't know what it's like to be a sub in high school, Gil. I know your father always taught you respect, but a lot of the teenage tops are still figuring things out, and they can be too dominant. Rodney may be right to be concerned."

"Yes, yes, I am!" Rodney said, his voice rising. "I'm very right!"

"I can't ignore this," Gil said, his voice flat in the way that John knew he wouldn't be budged. "Those kids need to be disciplined."

"You'll only make things worse for me!" Rodney was almost yelling, standing up as if ready to bolt.

"You can wear my letter jacket," John said, catching one of Rodney's wrists, hoping the physical reassurance would help to calm him.

"Oh." Rodney sat back down abruptly. "Really? You'd do that for me?"

"I want you to wear it. Every day. You're my sub and no one will touch you if you're wearing my jacket." With his free hand, he brushed over the bruise on Rodney's neck, making him shiver. He'd keep his sub marked too, right there on the neck, where everyone could see.

Rodney smiled shyly, as if John's offer had amazed him, and it made John angry, though he tried to hide it. If Rodney had decent parents, then he would understand and expect the support he deserved from his top. "Yes. That would be good. I'd like that."

"I take it I have your approval to ensure that the other kids are disciplined then?" Gil asked dryly. Adam was massaging his shoulders, as if to relax him. John would have to talk to Rodney later on, because Gil wasn't used to being questioned.

"Oh yes. Especially Mitch."

"Do you want to see John's discipline?"

Rodney looked at John, seeking direction, but John made his face blank. John didn't want Rodney to watch, but it was his right. " No. I don't need to see John disciplined. You really don't need to discipline him."

"Yes, I do. John?" Gil rose, walking out of the kitchen.

"Rodney, would you help me with the dishes? I think we should talk about handling the Sheppard men," Adam added, smiling.

John left them in the kitchen, following Gil into the den, moving automatically to the wall. He undid the button and zip on his jeans, pushing them and his boxers down to his thighs before bracing himself with his hands flat on the wall. He remembered the last strapping very well. He took slow, deep breaths, willing his muscles to relax. Gil didn't make him wait, taking the strap off his belt, hitting him firmly and steadily. John was trembling by the time Gil had finished, but he didn't cry or yell.

Through the cotton of his t-shirt, he felt Gil's big, warm hand on the small of his back. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, sir."

"Take it easy today. Rest, spend some time with Rodney. I can tell that you and he have something special together. It's the first time you've really felt like a top, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir. Everything was playing before Rodney."

"I thought so. I'm glad for the two of you. This is a very important time in your lives. You're truly figuring out your roles and you'll need to help each other."

"Yes, sir."

"You're seventeen now, John, and a top who's taken responsibility for a sub. I don't expect to have to do this again."

"No, sir. You won't," John promised, both to Gil and himself.

"Good. Adam and I will probably be gone most of the day."

John heard Gil move away, and took a few more breaths before he felt restored enough to pull his clothes back into place. His jeans were well worn, the material soft, but he wished he'd put on sweat pants.


"Hey, Rodney." John turned away from the wall to see his sub hovering in the doorway.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"Gil and Adam have left to go talk to the other parents. Adam gave me some ointment. Do you want me to put it on you?"

The thought of exposing his reddened ass to Rodney wasn't that appealing, but he liked that Rodney wanted to do it for him. He'd always been told that a top and sub should care for each other after discipline, because it would increase their emotional closeness. "Yeah, sure." Catching Rodney's hand, John led him into his bedroom. He only needed to expose his ass, but instead he took all his clothes off, reveling in the sensual appreciation that momentarily displaced the concern in Rodney's blue eyes. He laid down on his front on the bed, feeling the mattress dip as Rodney sat by him. There was a pop of a cap being removed, and then one of Rodney's hands, long, strong fingers, began smoothing the creamy lotion into his skin.

"Feels good," John said, because Rodney was too silent.

"I can't believe he disciplined you and you just accepted it," Rodney blurted out, his motion soothing.

"Don't your parents discipline you?"

"Of course they do. Only they argue over who should do it and then they argue over what it should be and then they usually both discipline me."

"And you don't accept it because it's so messed up," John guessed. Rodney's hands felt good, covering both ass cheeks thoroughly with the ointment, soothing the pain.

"Why should I? Even they can't agree on what is right."

"My dads have never been like that. Sometimes Adam disagrees with Gil's decision and they go into the other room and discuss it, but they always agree when they come back out. Sometimes Gil changes the discipline and sometimes he doesn't."

"I wish my parents were like yours," Rodney admitted.

"They're kinda your dads now, too." John offered.

"I like that." Rodney's hands left John's ass. "You're all covered now."

Rodney wouldn't like it if Gil disciplined him, but John didn't think that was a good subject to bring up. They could deal with that hurdle later on, and certainly Gil would handle it better than Rodney's parents. He twisted over, lying on his back, stroking Rodney's arm. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Rodney rubbed his hands together, smoothing the last of the ointment into his own skin. "I should probably go home. Get some clean clothes. I have studying to do today."

"I'll take you in a bit. We can study together." It felt sexy, to be lying on the bed, naked, with Rodney dressed. John didn't make any move to cover up. Rodney's eyes seemed focused on his hands, but the little sideways glances revealed he'd like to take a longer look at John, which was good. John wanted his sub to admire his body and want to be claimed by him.

"You want to study on a Saturday?"

"Yes, Rodney, I study on Saturday," John replied wryly. "I have to get good grades to get scholarships for college. I'm going to study aeronautical engineering."

"Hot and smart and a football star? Are you for real?"

"You're a genius. Don't you deserve the best?"

Rodney looked startled before smiling. "Yes, yes I do."

And he would always have the best that John could give him. "We don't need to study all day, do we?" he said, plucking at Rodney's shirt, pulling it up. "Gil and Adam are gone." Sitting up, he captured Rodney's lips with his own. Doing their homework could wait a few hours. Right now, John wanted to learn more about Rodney McKay.


John watched as Rodney finessed the last connections, and the ZPM lit in an orange glow as bright as Rodney's beaming smile.

"It worked!" Rodney exclaimed.

"Of course it did." John grinned at him. His sub really was one of the smartest people on the planet. If anyone could figure out how to power a wormhole to another galaxy, it was Rodney. He clipped the leash on Rodney's silver collar. "Time to go."

He led Rodney into the gateroom, the crowds of soldiers and scientists parting for them, allowing them to take their place next to Lady Elizabeth and Jeannie. Lady Elizabeth looked supremely confident and ready, sleek in her red leather outfit, holding the gold leash attached to Jeannie's collar. Jeannie, also dressed in the blue and tan science uniform, nestled against Elizabeth's side, grinning as happily as her brother.

Lady Elizabeth began a speech about how proud she was of everyone chosen for this mission, and granting them one last chance to withdraw. John surveyed the assembled group, knowing that she wouldn't get any takers, and thinking of the last sixteen years with Rodney. The time had been really good, full of blessings, even though they had suffered two major tragedies.

Senior year had been fabulous, having Rodney by his side, the two of them graduating together and both going to Northwestern. Rodney had been able to transfer so many credits from classes he'd taken at the local college and challenged so many others that he'd been awarded his first B.S. within the year. Being Rodney's top but behind him in school had been disconcerting, but they'd worked through their issues, and John had been proud of Rodney's genius.

The first tragedy came when Rodney's parents died in a car crash. Gil and Adam had adopted Jeannie, providing a loving family, which John was sure had been the best thing that had happened to her. Jeannie had finished high school and joined Rodney at Northwestern, where he was working on his Ph.D. Then after John graduated and joined the Air Force, Gil had died from wounds sustained in a training accident and Adam had faded away because of their lifebond. They'd all flown home to arrange the funeral and stayed together for as long as their commitments allowed. It was weird to think he was now Jeannie's top. Except for regular squabbles with her brother, she was a good kid, so he'd felt confident in sending them back to school together while he returned to duty.

Rodney joining the Stargate program had been a godsend, particularly when they'd started working on the 302s. John loved being a pilot and was ecstatic at the thought of flying spaceships, happily joining the program and eventually taking command of SG-2. Though he went offworld almost every week on missions, he came home to Rodney in Colorado, and couldn't imagine a better life. Rodney's intelligence and ambition made him a challenging sub, but that only encouraged John to express his full toppiness.

The next blessing was when Rodney recruited Jeannie for the Stargate program, as it brought her into Lady Elizabeth's orbit, and she turned out to be the firm and loving top Jeannie had always sought. John was pleased when Elizabeth asked him to relinquish his duties to her, even though he'd never had to exercise them much. Jeannie deserved a top who appreciated her genius and would protect her while helping her brilliance flourish.

Lastly was the leave when he'd gone to visit Rodney on his temporary assignment in Antarctica, he and General O'Neill flying to visit their subs, and being attacked by an Ancient drone accidentally unleashed by Carson Beckett. The entire world lit up when John sat down in a big silver and blue chair to pull his sub into a kiss to celebrate their reunion.

And now they were going to Atlantis together. They had no idea what they would find, but they would be together, and that was all that mattered.

Lady Elizabeth finished her speech and waited, but no one withdrew. John detached Rodney's leash, reattaching it to his belt, wanting him to have mobility in case anything went wrong. With a nod to Elizabeth and followed by his sub, John held his P-90 at the ready and walked through the Stargate to the Ancient city of Atlantis.