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High School Confidential: Rodney

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Rodney surrendered to John's kisses, squirming and sighing in ecstasy as John covered his body, pressing him into the mattress. He still couldn't believe how quickly his life had changed in less than a day.

Though they'd never had a conversation, Rodney had known of John. He'd transferred to the school last year and instantly became one of the most popular kids, a true golden boy, admired for his looks and envied for his easy manner. Everyone knew that John was a top and the news spread rapidly whenever he played with a sub at the school. Contrary to standard high school behavior, all of John's subs had refused to gossip about him, beyond confirming that he was fabulous, powerful but sensitive.

Though Rodney would have vehemently denied it, he had been as impressed as everyone else. He'd been captivated by John, and watched him whenever he thought it wouldn't be obvious. Even while participating in boring stupid hobbies like football, John was beautiful, strong and athletic, with gorgeous green eyes, a mouth made for kissing, and floppy black hair with weird cowlicks.

Rodney had known any interest in John was doomed to be unfulfilled. John was gorgeous and well-liked while Rodney was a generally ignored geek, only tolerated for his musical skill. Also, they were both tops. At least, John was a top and Rodney was sure he had to be. He couldn't have tolerated being a switch like his parents, and he was surely too argumentative to be a sub.

He'd been disappointed when John walked into the locker room, believing him part of the plan, then relieved by John's horrified expression, and even more so by John's attempts to convince the others to let him go. John had felt compelled to participate, and Rodney accepted that if he had to be humiliated in some weird victory ritual, John was far preferable to his asshole friends. On his knees, tied and unable to struggle, with a cock dangling in front of his eyes for the first time, Rodney had wanted to hyperventilate, to scream, but John had promised to get him free, and Rodney had trusted him. All he'd had to do was get John off, and he could escape this hell.

Petrified that he'd fail, Rodney had leaned forward to lick at John's cock, which was big even flaccid. He knew the theory of giving a blow job, but was embarrassed by his lack of practical experience. At the feel of John's cock on his tongue, the oddest sensation had come over him. He'd focused in only on John, on rousing his cock to life, on the occasional brush of pubic hair against his face. The feeling was centering, calming, like nothing else existed in the world. John's cock had hardened quickly, causing Rodney to feel a strange sense of satisfaction. He'd done that. He'd made John get hard. Rodney had felt proud, sucking John's cock into his mouth, running his tongue over the length, sipping at the few drops of pre-come. John is hard for me, his brain had chanted.

Then Mitch had insisted that John fuck his face, which had pissed John off, but Rodney had tilted his head back, signaling his willingness. The feeling resembled a math proof clicking into place in his brain, a deep-seated knowledge of what was right and true. He was a sub and John Sheppard would be the first to top him. Submitting to John was the easiest thing he'd ever done in his life.

He'd been frantic when Mitch had whipped out his dick again. There was being a sub, and there was being used, and the two were entirely different things. But John had exploded with an unexpected savagery, protecting him, getting him away from the others, and then trembled in his arms, a dominant top who'd needed to be comforted by his sub, just like one of those absurd but extremely popular action films.

"I want to spank you," John whispered against Rodney's mouth, bringing him back to the present and the feeling of being in his top's arms.

Rodney tensed. He knew spanking was a common part of play, but being spanked by either of his parents had always been painful and embarrassing.

"Trust me, Rodney. I'll make it so good for you." John didn't wait for an answer, coaxing Rodney up and placing him over his lap. John's hairy legs under Rodney's abdomen felt nothing like his parents' clothes, and John took his time, stroking Rodney's back and ass, admiring its rounded shape and the feel of his skin. Rodney felt his muscles relaxing, and John was sensitive enough to recognize that he was ready. He gave Rodney's ass a few light taps, which felt surprisingly good, the pleasure warming his entire body. John stroked his ass more, admiring how his skin was turning such a pretty shade of pink. He repeated the praise and the taps, with a gentleness and determination that Rodney was beginning to recognize epitomized John's style as a top.

"John," he gasped.


"Please, John, more. Harder. Please."

"It's good for you, isn't it? You trust me?"

"Yes, John. Please. More." The words kept falling from his mouth, mindless desperate pleas for more, and harder, as Rodney ground his dick against John's thigh, needing friction. John gave him a few more firm taps, his hand connecting solidly with Rodney's ass, but just when Rodney thought he'd come from being spanked, John stopped. Rodney whimpered as John gentled him down with long strokes until his dick was no longer near the peak.

"Just keep trusting me, Rodney," John whispered, and rearranged them, putting Rodney on his knees and standing over him. John's hand slid into his hair, and it was a replay of last night, only without the presence of the Neanderthals. Rodney had never felt so obligated to another person. Not the oppressive familial-societal sense of duty that his parents tried to impose, but a personal, emotional obligation. John had clearly been horrified at what his friends had done, and tried to get Rodney out of it. He'd fought for Rodney and taken him home and taken his virginity with patience and care.

Rodney wanted to do something for John, something to show how much he appreciated him. Like last night, he fell into an almost fugue state, where nothing existed except John's cock. He licked and sucked it, worshipped it, listening all the time for John's sighs and moans, creating a mental catalog of what John liked the most. He was going to learn to give John the best blow job he'd ever had or ever would have from any future sub. He cherished John's wrinkled balls too, taking each one into his mouth, sucking gently while his hands stroked John's dick to make sure it never felt neglected.

"You have such a sweet mouth. So good," John praised him. "You love this, don't you? I do. I could stay here forever like this."

Rodney hummed happily at that thought. He'd had to fight all his life, with his parents, with Jeannie, with people who thought he shouldn't be so freakishly intelligent. On his knees in John's bedroom, he tried to express his gratitude that he'd finally found someone who would be on his side.

He was almost disappointed when John grabbed his head with both hands and thrust once, hard, before spurting into his throat. He hadn't been ready for it to end, but fleetingly consoled himself that he'd surely get to suck John's dick many more times before John tired of him.

John pulled Rodney to his feet, held him cradled to his body, and jacked him off with excruciating slowness. Rodney trembled and came, letting John support his weight, burying his head in John's shoulder and kissing his neck and shoulders repeatedly. John praised him more, how talented his mouth was, his hotness, the perfection of his ass. John had given Rodney more praise in one day than his parents had given him in his entire life.

For a long time, John just held Rodney, their sweaty bodies at ease. Finally he spoke. "We're going to start making our own rules now, and the first one is that you come after me unless I give you permission otherwise."

The thought of learning to control his own body so much scared Rodney. Could he have stopped himself from coming while being spanked if John hadn't calmed him down? "I don't know if I can manage that."

"You'll learn. And I'll help you. You're so beautiful when you come. I need to be finished so I can focus on watching you. You want me to enjoy watching you, don't you?"

When had anyone thought he was beautiful? Sometimes people complimented his eyes, but mostly they mentioned how his mouth slanted unattractively and his skinny lankiness. "I'll learn," he promised. He was a genius. He could find a way to master this subject.

"I know you will." John hugged him then pulled him out of the bedroom, down the hall and into the bathroom, starting the water. They showered together, John washing Rodney, soaping every inch of his body, before washing his own. Rodney let John take care of him, then leaned against the shower wall, admiring his top's naked body. Like Rodney, John was thin, but instead of being angular, he was sculpted with lean muscled. He was perfection and he was Rodney's top.

After the shower, John dressed in black sweats and a black t-shirt, while Rodney put on yesterday's clothes again, grimacing with distaste.

"Time to take you home and get some clean clothes," John said, collecting his backpack. "Then we can go to the library." He ran his hand down Rodney's side, grinning. "We need to go somewhere public if we're going to get any studying done."


John parked the car in front of Rodney's house, which was a two-story, larger and nicer than John's. It had been their house since they'd moved from Canada, but it had never felt like home. "My parents aren't here," Rodney noted happily, seeing that both cars were gone.

"I want to meet them," John said.

"They're jerks."

"They're your parents and they should know your top," John replied, getting out of the car. In tone, his voice sounded like Adam, but the intonations were all Gil.

"Of course," Rodney agreed hastily as he got out of the car, mentally vowing he'd delay it as long as possible. "But they're not here now. Dad's probably at work and Mom'll be shopping."

John caught Rodney's hand and held it as they walked into the house, through the first floor and to the stairs. At least the house was clean and tidy, courtesy of the woman who came in weekly.

They could hear music playing as they walked upstairs. Rodney pushed the door open to Jeannie's room, surprised to see her lying on her stomach on her bed. "What are you doing here?"

"None of your business, dweeb," she retorted, not even looking up from her book. Like him, Jeannie read voraciously, partially because she was really smart too, and partially as an escape. Rodney found himself crowded into the bedroom as John stepped in behind him.

John gave one of his most winning smiles. "Hi, I'm John Sheppard."

Jeannie's gaze flicked up to look at him then back down to her book, and she didn't budge from her sprawled position on the bed. "You don't look as dorky as his other friends."

"I'm not just his friend, I'm his top."

Jeannie gave him another glance. "You did better than I would have ever expected, lizard breath."

"You should speak to your brother with respect."

"Why should I? He's a geeky nerd and no one likes him except other geeky nerds."

Rodney flushed at Jeannie's description of him because it was embarrassing to hear, even though it was true and John must be aware of that fact.

With an absolute pleasantness that was a little scary, John said, "Because if you don't speak to him with respect, I'll put you over my knee and spank you."

Rodney gaped in amazement at John, even as his sister sat up abruptly, yelping, "You can't! You're not my parent!"

"I'm Rodney's top and I won't tolerate disrespect to him."

"I'll tell Mom and Dad!"

"And they'll talk to my dads and my top will tell me that he's proud of me for protecting my sub, and for teaching you the respect that you should have learned a long time ago."

Jeannie stared at Rodney, seeking assistance or confirmation, and he felt a weird loyalty to her. Though he and Jeannie fought a lot, they also occasionally bonded together against their parents' arbitrary demands and decisions. The Sheppards were - well, normal. He and Jeannie weren't accustomed to a functional family that actually treated each other with dignity. "She's just a kid, John," he said unhappily.

"She's old enough to learn respect."

"He calls me bad names all the times too!" She pointed her finger at Rodney.

"And that's going to stop too. Isn't it Rodney?"

Rodney gaped. How did he just stop treating his sister as he had since she was old enough to talk and take her own role in the family fighting? "Look, John, you don't understand my family. We're not like you and your dads. My parents - "

"Rodney." John put his hands on Rodney's shoulders, squeezing. "Do you want to be like that? Insulting each other all the time?"

"It's not a matter of what - "

John gave him another squeeze. "Rodney."

"I'll try?" Rodney suggested weakly, and was rewarded by one of John's smiles and a soft kiss on his lips.

"You can do it, I know you can. Now your brother asked you a question," John added as Jeannie continued to stare at them in astonishment. "Why are you home alone?"

"Mom went shopping with friends and she didn't want me tagging along. Dad had to go to work and said he couldn't take me so they decided I was old enough to stay home alone."

"How old are you?"

"I'm eleven."

John frowned. "You're too young to be home alone."

"Mom and Dad said I was old enough."

"Rodney and I will study here until one of your parents comes home."


"Rodney." How did John load one word with such meaning? "Do you really think she's old enough to be left alone? What if there was a fire or someone tried to break in?"

Rodney shot a look at his sister, sitting on her bed, blue eyes wide with surprise, honey blonde hair curling down past her shoulders, two blue clips holding it back. She was just a kid who wouldn't know how to react in an emergency. Rodney only knew how to handle a fire because he'd blown up experiments a few times. Jeannie was smart and inquisitive, but she hadn't yet demonstrated his interest in practical experimentations with destructive potential. "Oh all right. We can study here. I need to change first." His stomach rumbled, which was weird because John's dad had made them big breakfasts, much larger than he normally ate.

John grinned wolfishly. "We got a workout this morning. How about lunch first?"

"There are probably some leftovers in the fridge. We eat a lot of takeout. Well, we eat takeout," Rodney noted correctly.

"I'll see what there is. Will you have lunch with us, Jeannie? I'd like to get to know you better." John gave Jeannie one of those smiles that had every sub at the school swooning at him.

Though she looked dubious, she agreed. "I guess so."

"Help me in the kitchen," John said, offering her his hand, "while Rodney changes."


Rodney had meant to get into new clothes fast, because he wasn't sure it was safe to leave his top and his sister alone together. Jeannie seemed biddable, but she was still Jeannie and accustomed to being bratty. Rodney was pretty sure John's demand that they treat each other with respect was going to take some time to become a habit, if it could even be achieved.

But he looked at himself in the mirror, and since he and John used different products, his hair had turned out weird. He leaped into the shower for a quick wash to redo it, but was momentarily overcome with images of John, his hands sliding soapily over Rodney's wet body, the size of his dick offered to Rodney's mouth, his smile as he ever so slowly claimed Rodney's virginity. Rodney started to masturbate but stopped himself, leaning against the shower wall and focusing on his breathing to calm down. John had said he liked to watch him come, and Rodney would wait until he could. He forced himself out of the shower, quickly redid his hair, then ended up searching through all his t-shirts, tossing aside the many with geeky logos or sarcastic sayings, finally finding a blue one that matched his eyes and donning it, his tightest blue jeans, and white sneakers.

He pounded down the stairs and rushed to the kitchen, surprised to hear Jeannie giggling as he entered. John stood by the stove, alternately stirring something in a pot and cutting fruit on the drain board next to it, a domestic scene that rarely occurred in their house. The kitchen table had been set with three places, with bowls, salad plates, silverware, and a box of crackers that Rodney hoped weren't stale.

"Hi," he said awkwardly.

"Hi, Rodney." John caught one of his belt hoops, tugging his body forward until he was close enough for a fast but sweet kiss. Rodney really liked John's constant touching.

"John's been telling me about all the foods he ate in different places. In Africa, they ate bread that rolled up like a pancake and they used it to scoop up meat and vegetables."

"Really?" His sister seemed captivated by John, but then why shouldn't she be? She was only copying the entire student body of their high school.

"Yeah. My dads have been stationed a lot of places. Gil's always liked to experiment with new foods and recipes."

"And you cook too?" Whatever was bubbling away in the pot smelled fantastic.

"Yeah. I cut up some of the steak and vegetables in the takeout containers and made a beef soup. That seemed more fun than everyone eating different leftovers." He stopped cutting to take a sip. "I think it's ready. Sit down and I'll dish up."

As he obeyed, Rodney wondered what John thought of the massive collection of takeout containers in the refrigerator and how that reflected on his parents. His dads liked to experiment with new foods while Rodney's parents only tried new restaurants. They almost never ate together, either. Jeannie was usually served dinner as soon as the takeout arrived, but the rest ate whenever they felt like it, and rarely in the kitchen nook. They ate in the living room, watching television.

Space Camp was the last time Rodney could remember eating two meals in a row at a table.

John dished up the soup and fruit before sitting down too, and they all dug in. The crackers weren't too stale, and soup was excellent. Rodney ate greedily, conscious that John's observation that he'd burned a lot of energy this morning was correct. John launched into a story about losing their luggage in Guam, and how Gil, Adam and he had all worked together to deal with the problem, making it sound incredibly hysterical. His parents would have made any similar experience into a trip from hell. Jeannie ate and giggled, and Rodney wondered if his expression was the same as hers, a little wary, a lot excited.

He still didn't quite understand why John had decided to claim him as his sub. Sure, he was a genius and certainly deserved the football star as his top, but most people didn't appreciate that logic. They saw his too skinny body, listened to him insult their intelligence, and ran away. John had seen him vulnerable and frightened and wanted to protect him. John knew he was helpless with relationships and inexperienced at sex and wanted to teach him and be with him.

John didn't even know Rodney's greatest strength, his intelligence, because Rodney only showed up for the obligatory and hellish PE class, the required foreign language, and his elective music class. Everything else he did through independent study, even the boring subjects like history. Studying by himself was faster, and he could avoid a teacher tediously droning away and the stupidity of his fellow students.

No, Rodney didn't understand John at all. But as John's smile tilted wryly and Jeannie giggled again, Rodney hoped John would stay around a long time.


John wasn't even in the room, and yet having a top clearly had the potential for wreaking havoc on his study habits. Jeannie had shown signs of being a brat after lunch, wanting more of John's attention. John had suggested she give him a house tour, muttering, "I bet I have less to do than you," as he brushed a kiss over Rodney's lips. They'd disappeared, leaving Rodney with peace and quiet. Only occasionally he'd hear Jeannie's giggle echoing through the house and wonder why he wasn't the one escorting John around and getting his attention. He wasn't accomplishing anything, staring at his books but focused on listening to the sounds of the other two moving around the house, wishing the walls were thinner.

The front door slammed, and Rodney leaped up, stuffing his books into his backpack. "Mom?" he yelled.

His mom walked into the kitchen, carrying several shopping bags. "What are you doing here? You never study at home." She didn't wait for an answer. "The stores were horrible. I've never seen so many dominant tops insisting all the clerks cater to their helplessly pathetic subs."

And you were probably the pushiest person in the store, Rodney thought, but didn't say, desperate to leave without a scene. "I'm going to spend the night at the Sheppard's again, okay?" He started to slip past her and out of the kitchen, but John and Jeannie appeared in the doorway. Rats.

"Rodney?" John asked, and Rodney knew what he wanted. John could be very expressive with few words.

"John, this is my mother, Evelyn McKay. Mom, this is John Sheppard, my top."

His mother was pulling clothes out of the bags, but stopped to give Rodney a disbelieving stare. "When did you become a sub?"

"Our sexual orientation is determined at birth, Mom."

"Don't be smart with me, Meredith Rodney McKay," she snapped, making Rodney flinch. He really didn't want to be strapped in front of John. The discipline had seemed to bring Gil and John emotionally closer, but it didn't work that way in Rodney's household. Fortunately, she didn't push the issue, giving John a once-over that resembled a snake eying a plump mouse. "You've caught yourself a looker at least. You did better than I would have expected."

"I feel very honored that Rodney accepted my claim," John said formally. "I'm happy to protect him, and I promise you I shall treat him with respect."

Underneath the formality, Rodney could tell John was seething, but a high school student couldn't threaten to spank an adult, no matter how disrespectful to his sub. Being an adult simply had advantages. Rodney wished his grandparents were still alive, because he would have loved to see his mother strapped. On days that she arrived home, moving gingerly, he could tell that she had been disciplined at work, but since his father had yielded that right to her boss, Rodney never got to watch. Life could be so unfair.

"God, you're unreal. Cute but unreal," his mom noted, resuming searching through the bags. She was an attractive woman, elegantly dressed in a pantsuit, with blond hair and blue eyes like Jeannie and him. It was only her personality that made her resemble a spawn of Satan. "Here, honey, I found you a nice dress. It was on sale half-off." She held out a pink confection with lace and ruffles that would make Jeannie look like she was masquerading as Shirley Temple. Everything she bought for them was on sale, cheapness mattering more than whether they'd look ridiculous. Money had to be saved so that she could buy the best for herself.

"Mom, you know I don't like pink. That's horrible."

His mother threw the dress at Jeannie, her face tightening with displeasure. "You kids are both so ungrateful. Try it on. It'll look cute on you for school pictures."

Jeannie's eyes flashed rebelliously, and Rodney braced himself for a Major McKay Meltdown, as he always thought of them. He fervently wished this wasn't happening in front of John. Still, perhaps this would knock John's idealistic notion that they could treat each other with respect out of his mind. But then John dropped to one knee, his hand resting comfortably on Jeannie's shoulder. "Hey, you'll save a picture for me, won't you? I need one of my new little sis."

"I'm not your sister," Jeannie protested, but John seemed to have successfully distracted her.

"You're my sub's sister. That makes you my family."

The fight faded from Jeannie's eyes, and she nodded shyly, before flinging her arms around John. "You'll come back, won't you?"

"All the time, Sprout."

She giggled, hugging him to her.

"Rodney and I are going now, but we'll be back tomorrow, okay?"

"You promise?"

"I promise," John said and Jeannie squeezed him fiercely before running off upstairs with the dreadful dress. She'd look as ridiculous as he had when his mother made him wear plaid suits for pictures. The other kids would make fun of her, as they'd always made fun of him, and his mother would tell her not to be a crybaby. In retaliation, he'd kept ruining outfits until his mother had finally decided he was old enough to handle his own shopping. Jeannie would start doing the same too, Rodney was sure.

"God, she's got you wrapped around her little finger, just like she does their father," his mom said in disgust. "He's practically her sub. He's got no control over her."

"She seems like a good kid," John said neutrally. "She helped me pack a bag for you, Rodney. Are you ready to go?"

"Yes, definitely," he affirmed, giving his mother a peck on the cheek before she could make a scene demanding it. "I'll see you tomorrow, Mom."

"You should give him a good strapping if you want him to learn his proper place, or you'll have as much trouble with him as I do," his mother advised John.

"I'll manage my sub as he deserves to be treated," John said, still using that blank tone, hustling Rodney toward the door.

"Don't worry, his father and I will still strap him when he needs it," his mother called out as they were crossing the living room. "We don't expect you to handle all of his discipline."

For a horrible moment, John stopped and Rodney wondered if he would be mad enough to attack his mother as he had Mitch and Chad, but then he grated out, "It's your right," and started moving again, almost dragging Rodney out of the house with the same urgency that they'd left the locker room last night. John opened the car door for Rodney, waiting until he was in the passenger seat to close it, put the two bags into the trunk, and got in the car and drove off. His actions were almost overly controlled, except the tires made a dreadful squeal as he accelerated.

"She's a horror," Rodney offered into the silence. "I'm sorry."

"Is your dad like that too?"

"He doesn't make us wear stupid clothes. He works a lot. He makes us reassure him all the time. And he's not wrapped around Jeannie's finger, no matter what mom says. He just takes her side occasionally."

"There shouldn't be sides in a family," John gritted out, abruptly parking the car in a spot by the neighborhood park. "I need to run. Can you study at one of the picnic tables?"

It was phrased as a question, but John's flat tone made it sound like an order. Rodney hesitated. He'd only had a top for one day. It would be mortifying to lose him before the weekend was over, though he thought John would still try to keep him safe from Mitch and the others.

"Rodney." John's voice came out softer. "Tell me."

"I'm allergic to bees. But it's been a long time since I was stung. It might not be so bad now." Not that Rodney wanted to test it, because he still remembered the frightening sensation of not being able to breathe. He waited for John to be irritated, to complain about how his weakness was ruining his plan.

Only John didn't react like his parents did. Instead John gazed around and offered, "What about the deli on the corner? Would that be okay?"

The deli was a local place, serving mainly sandwiches and coffee drinks, and it was rarely full. He should be able to find a table. "Yes, that would work."

"Okay, I'll find you there." John handed Rodney his car keys and was out and running on the park's footpath before Rodney could say another word.


John must have run vigorously, because he was sweaty by the time he dropped into a chair across the table, even though Rodney was still finishing his coffee. "Thanks for understanding. I needed to do that."

Rodney didn't really understand. Running as a way to release stress had never occurred to him. But he understood that John had run rather than hit him or bitch incessantly about what had made him unhappy, and that was staggering. "Are you okay now?"

"Yeah, I just - "John's fingers curled into fists before he deliberately relaxed them. "You want to study here? I could get my books."

"I've done enough for the day, if you want to go back to your house." He hadn't done half of what he'd planned, but once again, Rodney's mind hadn't been on his studies, lost instead in the thought of John running around the footpath. He'd seen John run on the football field, so his mind had a nice mental image to replay, only with a few adjustments to remove the heavy pads and cleats, substituting the clothes he was wearing today. Rodney had never thought that any person could be more compelling than physics, but John had proved that assumption wrong. "Though you haven't managed to do any, if you want to stay here," he felt compelled to offer. John had been really considerate about trying to make time for him to study, and people who were considerate expected that back in return, didn't they? His family wasn't ever considerate of each other, so it wasn't a normal reaction for Rodney, but he thought John would expect it.

"Home sounds good. We can try again tomorrow. Today hasn't quite worked out." John gave him a rueful smile, like it wasn't anyone's fault, much less Rodney's, that he'd had to deal with Jeannie's brattiness and his mother being a royal bitch. "Let's go."

Rodney shoved his books into his backpack, and they left the coffee shop, John again holding the door for him. The way John kept showing him little courtesies made Rodney feel almost giddy with happiness. They weren't big gestures, but they said that Rodney mattered to John, and Rodney had rarely experienced that feeling.

"Do you mind one more stop?" John asked when they were waiting for a light to turn green. He nodded his head toward a toy shop on the next block.

"No, that would be good. I wouldn't mind stopping there at all."

Rodney had only been in a toy shop once, on a dare with some of his friends. They hadn't been inside for long. The clerk had given them a scornful look, and suggested they were too young. They'd tried to bluff it out, but failed badly, and he'd chased them out.

This clerk, a middle-aged man with a receding hairline, also gave them a level look. "You boys old enough to be shopping here?"

"It's our first time together, Mr. Mason, but I've been in here with my dads."

"You're John Sheppard, aren't you? Gil and Adam's son? That was some fine football you played last night."

"Thank you, sir. You can call either of my dads if you'd like. They'll give permission for me to be here. And this is my sub, Rodney McKay."

"That's not necessary. You're obviously mature enough. If you have any questions, just let me know."

"Thank you, sir," John said, and holding Rodney's hand, began to pull him down an aisle. Rodney gazed around in wonder at the collars and clothes, and the massive variety of toys. John stopped in front of a display of cuffs, picking up a brown leather pair, holding them by Rodney's arm. "These would look really good on you. The black's too stark."

"You want to buy cuffs for me?"

John leaned toward Rodney, their foreheads touching. "You trusted me from the beginning. Do you know how hot that was? I want to test you, test us, learn our limits. I want to tie you up. I know you'll like that, submitting to me, letting me do whatever I want. You'd never know what I might do next, but I'd always make sure you'd enjoy it."

Rodney moaned helplessly, feeling himself start to get hard. John's teeth nipped at the bruise on his neck, making him pant. He was thankful that the store was almost deserted and hoped Mason wasn't paying close attention.

"I love how responsive you are."

"You make it impossible not to respond."

"Don't ever try to hide, Rodney," John said seriously. "I always want to know what you're thinking and feeling."

"The cuffs are a good choice. I love the cuffs. And could we go before I embarrass myself?"

John picked up another set of cuffs. Rodney whimpered, realizing that John meant to bind both his arms and feet. Instead of heading to the checkout counter, John led him down another aisle. This time, John didn't consult him as he selected a pair of silver nipple clamps. "Your nipples are so pretty." Rodney leaned his head on John's shoulder, nodding helplessly. "I bet they'll be even prettier when they're clamped."

"Good choices," Mason approved, ringing them up. "Some young people start too fast, try to leap into hard play."

"We're going to have a long time to experiment together," John responded. "We can take our time."

Rodney fervently hoped that he was right.


The Sheppard's car was in the driveway, but there was no sign of them. John led the way to the kitchen, obviously unsurprised to find a note on the table. "They saw all the parents and made sure the kids were disciplined -- twenty with the strap for each one. They're going to play tonight. Dinner is in the fridge," he announced, scanning the note. "You're not hungry yet, are you?"

"I had a pastry at the deli," Rodney answered, his mind reeling at John's nonchalance. Twenty for each one? All four had been disciplined in one day? "What does it mean that they're playing? Are they really having sex on a Saturday afternoon? Leaving you alone?"

John gave him one of those quickly blanked looks that Rodney could hate, because it made him conscious of his family's abnormality. "I'm usually out with friends or studying anyway. Gil likes Adam to have Sunday to recover if they're going to play hard."

"Does he hurt him?" Rodney asked in horror. He wasn't sure that his parents had ever done anything that required recovery time. Neither one trusted the other enough to surrender that much.

"Of course not. At least, not anything Adam doesn't like," he added to be accurate. "Adam's just usually really relaxed."


"Your parents don't play like that?"

"I'm not even sure my parents have sex."

John frowned, clearly finding that information difficult to accept. "What's the point of being in a relationship then? If you're not going to enjoy each other?"

"Why don't you look like Gil?" Rodney asked, because he was getting very tired of thinking about his parents and distraction had always been a viable tactic in the McKay household. "I would have thought your top would want to the biological."

John's mouth quirked, as he accepted the diversion. Perhaps John was tired of his parents' stupidity too. "Gil thinks Adam is more handsome and smarter than him. They talked about having another kid with Gil as the biological, but we travel so much, it never happened." He brushed his fingers over the mark on Rodney's throat. "What do you think, Rodney? Would you rather I was blond?"

"God no. You're hot."

"Gil's less hairy."

"I like your hair. All of it."

"Yeah?" Smiling wickedly, John pulled him down the hall and into his bedroom. "What else do you like?"


"Everything?" There was a gift-wrapped box on the bed, with another note. "Adam said Rodney would like this," John read. "It's for you." He held it out toward Rodney, who tried to remember the last time anyone had given him a spontaneous present, one unconnected to a birthday or holiday. Possibly one of his grandparents, but they'd all died when he was very young.

"It's for me?"

"Yeah. Open it."

Rodney accepted the present, tearing off the shiny blue paper, revealing a vibrator in a box. "They got me a toy?"

"They want you to know they're happy we're together." John took the box, setting in on the nightstand, before cupping Rodney's face in his hands. "It's been tough, hasn't it?"

How did John make him feel like he had no defenses? Like he had no need for barriers? "Yes," Rodney admitted. "You rescued me and fought for me and make me feel good and you even cook for me and make my sister laugh. And your parents - if I'd told my parents about what happened last night, they probably would have disciplined me because I should have fought back or not been where they could have grabbed me in the first place. They would never have made sure those Neanderthals were disciplined. But your parents - your parents - "

"Shhh." John cradled him in his arms, stroking his back. "I'm sorry. Your life is going to be different now."

Rodney laid his head on John's shoulder, his body shaking, aware that John couldn't fix everything. His parents would still be there every day, with ultimate responsibility for him, since his top was underage. But he hoped that John would stay his top for a long time, knowing that he would run interference as much as he could.

"I know what you need. You need to not think. I want to take you there, where you only know sensation." He pushed Rodney away gently. "Strip for me."

Rodney obeyed with eagerness. He wished he was less angular, less skinny, but the appreciation in John's eyes relieved his worry about his body.

John got the cuffs out of the bag, buckling them on Rodney's wrists and ankles. "You look so good like that, ready for me to tie you up in any position I want."

Rodney's imagination supplied a variety of ways in which John might bind him, and hoped John would do so. He clasped his wrists with his hands, savoring the texture of the soft leather, watching as John removed the clamps from the packaging. John thumbed each of his nipples to a stiff peak, latching the clamps on.

"How do those feel?"

"Good. They feel good," Rodney said, admiring his own chest, the pink nipples surrounded by silver.

"Okay." John tightened each one another quarter twist, and Rodney gasped. "Still good?"

"It hurts a little."

"Too much?"

Rodney almost said yes, they did pinch, but "No" emerged from his lips. He was afraid he would ultimately fail John, but he wanted to follow his lead as long as he could.

"Good. I want you to feel your body, Rodney, and know that I'm the one making you feel like that." John rubbed his thumb on the bruise on Rodney's neck, making him shiver. "Get used to this. I'm going to keep you marked here always."

"Okay," Rodney agreed, though he hoped John didn't touch it too often at school. A constantly aching cock would not be conducive to his concentration. "I'd like that."

"But I want you to have another mark too, one for just the two of us." John circled Rodney, capturing his hands and bringing them behind his back, attaching the cuffs together with a clip. "Is that secure?"

Rodney jerked his arms, trying to separate them, but the bonds held. His hands were tied behind his back until John released him. "Yes. I can't get free."

"Good. I want you at my mercy. I don't want you to think about anything except us and what I'm doing to you." John cupped his butt, squeezing it with both hands. John's hands were strong, his grip powerful enough to control a football. "You've got such a great ass."

"Um, thank you?" Rodney glanced over his shoulder, twisting to see John dropping to his knees, squeezing and fondling his ass.

"This one first, I think. I'll do the other one when it begins to fade." John sank his teeth into Rodney's ass cheek, making him give a startled yell. Like when he'd marked Rodney's neck, John bit and suckled on the same spot. Rodney could only stand there helplessly, his nipples pinched by the clamps, his hands bound, his cock erect with desire.

"That looks so good. You're so hot, Rodney. Your skin is so pale and it looks beautiful when it's reddened." John stood up, cradling Rodney against his chest, reaching around to feather his fingers over the clamped nipples. "I bet these will be all red when I release them."

Rodney leaned back, letting John accept his weight. He didn't know what to say, and unlike his normal verbosity, he wasn't sure he wanted to say anything. He wanted to see what John would do next.

"You liked being spanked this morning, didn't you? Your ass is so pretty when it glows red from my hand."

Rodney nodded eagerly, following as John tugged him backwards. John sat on the bed, helping Rodney lie over his lap. The maneuver was awkward without the use of his hands, except that John supported him. Since John was dressed, it felt different, resting on sweat pants rather than hairy legs.

"Such a pretty ass," John said again, as if he would never tire of complimenting Rodney. And then he started the spanking, using light erotic taps with an open palm. Rodney experienced an extra tingle of sensation whenever John's hand hit the mark. He understood what John had said about wanting him to feel only sensation, because he was conscious of everything about his body. Not just his nipples, his hands, his cock, and his ass, but even his toes as they dug into the carpet, helping to keep his balance, the strain on his shoulders from having his hands behind him, the blood rushing to his head as it hung down.

Then John stopped spanking, and Rodney waited for what he'd do next. The buzz of the vibrator told him. John used the tip of the vibrator on his ass, running it over and over the spanked pink skin, paying special attention to the bruise mark, outlining it. The tingling vibration made Rodney acutely aware of the vulnerability and sensitivity of his flesh.

Finally, John teased Rodney's hole. Rodney spread his thighs wider, exposing himself, but John didn't push the vibrator in, instead moving it down to his dick. John ran it over the wrinkled sac and along the underside, as Rodney moaned and thrashed because it was all too much and yet not enough.

"Your father is an evil man," he gasped.

John stroked his back with his free hand, keeping the vibrator running in aimless patterns over Rodney's most sensitive areas. "You're going to have to learn to stay still."

"I can't, John, I can't." Rodney thrust his ass up, trying to get John to nudge the vibrator into his hole. The emptiness within him needed to be filled.

"Not tonight. I think you've had enough of this now."

Rodney whined as the noise went off.

"Are you ready to be fucked now?"

Yes, definitely, he was desperate for John to fuck him so he could come, but he gasped out, "May I suck you first? Please?"

John stroked him a few times, considering the request. "If you like, but I don't want to come until I'm in you."

"You won't, I promise. I just need to taste."

John lifted Rodney off his lap, demonstrating how strong he was, and helped Rodney to his knees. John pushed his sweats and boxers down, revealing his erect cock. He smelled strongly of sweat, from his run and his arousal. Rodney inhaled, filling his lungs. He'd joked that John wasn't hung like a horse, but he did have the widest and most powerful cock Rodney had seen in all his years of standing at urinals and changing in locker rooms. He wanted to latch on greedily, but he'd promised John that he wouldn't try to make him come. Instead, he licked his cock slowly, savoring the taste of his skin, enjoying how good it felt to be tied and helpless, to have this great big cock to relish, to know that John was his top, and to try to show his need and gratitude in the most direct way possible.

"Okay, that's enough," John said far too soon, stepping away, and Rodney could see the strain in him. John threw off the rest of his clothes and tossed the sheets and blankets to the foot of the bed before lifting Rodney to his feet. He undid the clip holding Rodney's wrists together, placed him on the bed, and clipped his wrists to the top of the bed frame, so Rodney was leaning against the head of the bed.

Without being ordered, Rodney spread his legs wide, and John settled between them on his knees, beginning to introduce his lubed fingers into Rodney's ass, stretching him. He kissed Rodney as he did, occasionally nipping the bruise on his neck, ensuring it would stay dark.

John braced his hands on the wall, and shoved his cock into Rodney's ass, his face set with concentration. He fucked Rodney faster than he had before, and Rodney was gratified that John was too wound up to be torturously slow. It made him proud of his body in a way he never had been before, that someone as amazing as John could want him so much.

Only at the end did he wish his hands were free, because as John pounded into him with the same unrelentingly ferocity that he ran down a football field, Rodney would have liked to hold onto him. He settled for squeezing him with all the strength in his thighs as John moaned into his neck and came.

"Okay, now you," John said, reaching between their bodies to pump Rodney's cock, and he came, feeling as if every single cell in his body was contracting before relaxing.

Kissing Rodney, John took a moment to recover before pulling out. Rodney missed John's cock as soon as it left him, and clenched his ass, trying to keep his come from seeping out too. John released his nipples from the clamps. "How do they feel?"

"Good, sore," Rodney said, feeling really good all over, sore and a bit dazed. John had promised to make him concentrate only on the sensations of his body, and he'd succeeded.

"They're so red and pretty," John complimented, giving each one a lengthy suckle. Rodney's stomach rumbled.

"Time to get you some dinner," John said, smiling. He got off the bed, leaving Rodney feeling a bit bereft. He put on his sweatpants. "I'm only going to get one plate."

"Okay," Rodney agreed, admiring John's smooth back and tight ass as he walked out the door. He wondered idly if John would release his hands before he fed him, but couldn't be bothered to care either way. He wasn't sure he could move if he was freed, fully understanding what John had said about Adam being really relaxed on Sundays. He had a feeling he would be too, because he was positive John would take him at least once more before they went to sleep.

For a few seconds, he wondered if his parents were so fucked up because they were both switches. Did they ever truly top or submit? Had they ever known how good it felt, to let someone else take control?

Then John walked in with a glass of soda and a piece of cake, setting them on the nightstand. "Dinner's nuking. I've got three minutes to feast on these," he said, lowering his head to lick and suck on Rodney's red nipples.

Rodney's head thumped back to the wall and he relaxed, surrendering to John and to whatever John wanted to do, wishing that this night would never end. He was a sub being claimed by his top, and he loved it.

~ the end ~