Archive of Our Own

John’s pretty sure he would’ve reacted weirdly to Todd’s next visit to Atlantis no matter how it played out, but it would have been awesome if Todd could have at least made an effort to be chill about it.

For John, every day he’s not actively dealing with his biological bullshittery, he’s doing everything in his power to forget about the weirdness that is his DNA.

Todd must not get this memo because the first time the wraith commander steps through the stargate after they had their, ah, encounter he is shooting John knowing glances and smug grins like they’re a couple of teenagers who’ve been necking under the bleachers during pep rallies.

What’s worse is the wraith commander is proudly sporting a new accessory strung around his neck and the only thing John can do to keep from panicking is to refuse to make any eye contact with the alien bastard all through the entirety of the 7 AM ‘diplomatic’ meeting he’s forced to attend. He finds the most neutrally pleasant hunk of Atlantean architecture he can train his eyes on and fixes his gaze there for the full 93 minutes of negotiations. It’s only thanks to years of experience and extensive SERE training that he manages to maintain some sort of calm in spite of the rapid beating of his heart and the stink of nervous sweat beading at his neck.

He just wants to keep things normal, forget about the, ah, incident of two months back, but here’s the damn wraith waltzing in here with that.. that thing hanging around his neck, proud as a rooster, showing off his trophy for anyone to see-

Battling back the light headedness John breathes through his nose and waits for the meeting to be over, hearing not one single word of the surely important dialogue going on around him. He pops up like a jack in the box as soon as Woolsey draws the meeting to a close.

Just a step shy of running for the door he doesn’t look back to see if the wraith commander dares to try and follow him. He’s not interested in what that ass hat does. Not one little bit.

Todd returns to his hive just after noon on that same day, staying only long enough to check up on a collaborative project Atlantis has bubbling away in the labs. John breathes a sigh of relief when word of his departure reaches him through the chatter of the open comms.

He’s grateful that he’s got such a good team at his back and that they (at least generally) know when to give him some space. He holes up in the little closet of a room he calls an office and tackles the quarterly reports due to be transmitted back to Earth in a few days time. Crunching numbers is mind-numbing and exactly what he needs to burn away the hours until suddenly it’s proper dark out and Ronon is sticking his head in the door to see if he’s gonna come to dinner or not.

Over Athosian style ‘pork’ chops and what passes for collard greens McKay attempts to explain how the internet works to an indulgent Teyla and John let’s the tension seep gradually from his shoulders.

It’s a beautiful, mellow, reassuringly mundane evening.

“It’s just a series of tubes.” He offers unhelpfully when Teyla asks a clarifying question and Rodney actually hits him. Not hard, but John still pouts and Ronon laughs and rolls his eyes, catching Rodney’s fist when the scientist goes to hit his commanding officer again just because John ‘doesn’t look sorry enough.’

John’s about to add his two cents about Al Gore to the discussion when a massive yawn just about cracks his jaw in two and Teyla grins, reaching over to chuff him under the chin and telling him to go get some sleep.

“But they’re playing the Olympic women’s hockey gold medal match tonight!” McKay yelps, cutting the woman’s gentle words off, his eyes wide in something close to horror. “You can’t miss that! Canada is playing Sweden and somehow no one on base has been spoiled yet. It’s statistically impossible, I know, but it’s true! Not a single person in this whole galaxy knows how this match is going to end! It’s like we’ll be seeing it live! It’s Schrodinger's hockey match! Anything could happen! Everyone’s gonna watch it, you have to come.”

And how can John say no to a pitch like that?

So they find themselves jammed in the Atlantean storeroom - which has been gutted and converted into a movie hall - alongside 60 of Earth’s greatest minds, quickly being turned deaf by the vicious heckling ripping across the room in two dozen different languages, popcorn flying, and John laughing himself half to death when Gillian Apps scores a goal and Rodney launches himself to his feet, turning to a dismayed Dr. Karlsson and jabbing a finger in his direction, triumphantly orating about the superiority of Canadian hockey, Canadian women, and, for some reason, Canadian beer for all to hear. Between John, Teyla and Ronon they manage to wrestle the astrophysicist’s butt back into his seat, the four of them jammed onto a bench which would usually accommodate three, and proceed to thoroughly enjoy Canada’s rout over Sweden. Stargate Command even kindly spliced in the medal ceremony to the end of the broadcast so they get treated to a teary eyed Rodney with his hand over his heart mouthing along to the Canadian national anthem.

It’s a very pleasant way to spend an evening.

John forgets all about Todd and the stupid, innocuous bit of compressed calcite and protein he has dangling around his neck. He’s fine. Everything’s going just fine.

———-

But Todd comes back, of course. He always does.

Three more months pass and Keller has made some progress on a ‘new iteration of some variation of some form of some kind of retrovirus blah blah blah’ and honestly John tunes out the details during their o’nine hundred briefing. He feels like he’s been through this same song and dance a gazillion times and by this point he just trusts the big brains with the minutiae. He’ll pick up the reader’s digest version when it's out next week.

What he apparently failed to understand was that ‘live tests’ in this case would refer to ‘invite over the friendly neighborhood hive to negotiate for a guinea pig.

So John’s really wishing he’d been paying more attention when that very same afternoon he finds himself trying to look casual and hanging back at the entrance to the infirmary, observing the proceedings therein.

He’s watching the doc go over some readings on a computer screen surrounded by a surprisingly attentive Todd, an additional pair of wraith scientists, and a lone masked drone - ostensibly unarmed - operating as his entourage. Todd’s small, slitted pupils flick back and forth as they scan across the data Keller has provided with an expression akin to fascination.

“Well done, Dr. Keller.” Todd murmurs after a long minute of silence wherein he and his fellow wraith finish looking over her findings and share a few meaningful - probably psychic - glances with each other. “There is much potential here.”

Todd’s always been more differential towards the women of Atlantis. This is not a bad thing. For some unknowable reason today it irritates John, his eyes narrowing as he watches Keller’s cherubic features spread into a pleased smile.

“I’m convinced this one will work,” She declares, sincerity positively oozing out of the woman. “The evidence is all there, and I’ve run, well, every test I can think of to try and weed out negative side effects. I’m at least 99% certain we’ve mitigated all of the previous drawbacks: the amnesia, tumor growth, diminished immune response-”

“Your work is sound.” Todd agrees, not snidely, and Keller flushes. She laughs a bit before taking a mental step back to try and curb her own enthusiasm.

“I know it might be hard to convince any of your crew to volunteer for a trial run, especially considering the precedents we’ve set, but I promise this is different. This treatment… I mean, you know as well as I do how unique it is. We’re not trying to do anything so drastic as turn wraith into humans, we’re only altering a small section of the wraith genome. It won’t remove the feeding process entirely, it will just radically reduce it’s traumatic effects on humans, nullify its lethality. This is-“

Todd holds up a hand to once again slow the stream of her words. “I am satisfied by your work here, Dr. Keller. Your efforts on genetic resequencing are exceptional. There is no need to sell your case further. I will be glad to provide a trial participant for you.”

Jennifer blinks for a moment, taken aback at not having to justify herself more. There’s an excited intake of breath from the others in the room, Keller’s fellow doctors and the xenobiologists surprised by Todd’s easy capitulation. Even the wraith scientists tilt their head microscopically to the side, checking their commander surreptitiously.

John narrows his own eyes in suspicion.

“Well,” Atlantis’ chief medical officer continues slowly, “It’s important to us that this person would be a volunteer. I know it sounds hypocritical considering some of our past actions but at this point we are dedicated to preserving this alliance, between your hive and our expedition. That means treating any participants in this test run as persons with free will and bodily autonomy. While a willing volunteer should know there are always risks during clinical trials, it is my highest priority to not knowingly compromise the health of any subject who would participate.”

John expects the wraith to roll their eyes or huff in amusement or otherwise mock Dr Keller’s earnestness over medical ethics, but they do no such thing. One of the scientists goes so far as to nod just slightly in approval.

John glances over at Ronon, the Satedan lurking at John’s elbow with suspicion levels even higher than his own. The bigger man meets his incredulous expression with a raised eyebrow.

Todd hums indulgently to Keller. “Your concerns are understood and appreciated, but ultimately unnecessary. I will be volunteering myself for your experiment.”

The same wraith who’d seemed to agree with Keller’s words a moment ago now flips his gaze to his commander with a clear, if minute, expression of shock. He’s weirdly easy to read for a wraith.

Keller’s mouth hangs open for a moment before she remembers to snap it shut. Professor Shino behind her has his eyes comically wide, his fingers gripped tight around his clipboard, holding the slip of neon terrazzo plastic up like a shield in front of his chest.

Visibly swallowing to calm her nerves Jennifer pushes forward. “I want to reiterate that this is experimental. I can’t guarantee a successful outcome, I can’t guarantee a stable outcome-“

“I’m aware of the risks of clinical trials, Dr. Keller.” Todd interrupts, voice firm and calm. “Thus far this process appears sound and I am willing to accept the risk of unknown complications for the odds of the therapy’s benefits.”

And that, is apparently all it takes to net Atlantis’ chief medical officer one very wraith-shaped guinea pig.

With a bit more back and forth they make plans to start a course of 8 injections (ouch) tomorrow at 10 AM. Todd insists on, and is granted, a private room for the course of the two day procedure. He acquiesces to being hooked up to a few scanners and monitors for the sake of tracking his health and for data collection. He also allows for a single video camera placed in the corner of the room to visually record the process, although he demands (for reasons John can’t quite suss out) that there be no recording of sound.

Atlantis argues successfully for the right to post a four guard detail in the area as a precaution, but agree to station all four soldiers well away from Todd’s room at the end of the adjoining corridor. It will give them a clear shot at anyone exiting the room should trouble arise, but will leave them unable to see or hear anything happening directly inside.

Since they’re already involved it doesn’t take much to convince Woolsey to host Todd’s three wraith retinue for the duration of the trial as well, especially not after Todd’s odd little scientist agrees to his commander’s suggestion that, should the first trial be successful, he himself can also undergo the therapy immediately following. Keller looks over the moon at the potential of having two willing participants and John would enjoy her glee if it was over anything other than this.

For his part John just feels nervous.

He’s nervous about having Todd around for an extended period of time. He’s nervous about the unfamiliar wraith who they will be hosting. He’s nervous for his soldiers who will be standing guard. He’s nervous that this won’t work. He’s nervous that this will work-

Later that afternoon he manages to track down an agitated Rodney and get the man to slow down long enough to explain what he’d tuned out from Keller’s first briefing.

As it turns out this latest variation on the retrovirus isn’t aiming to fully eliminate the wraith’s need to feed on human life, just modify it a bit in order to reduce the long-term negative effects on humans down to, functionally, zero. There’s plenty of idle resources the human body produces which can be siphoned off by a hungry wraith with little deleterious effect to the donor.

Apparently opting for fiddling around within the framework of the wraith’s active genotype instead of obliterating the feeding genes and rebuilding them from scratch has, theoretically, a markedly higher chance of success. The potential of the project is so great that Todd himself has contributed valuable data on wraith biology and some speculative research into gene resequencing in order to further this endeavor.

The treatment which is now being trialed will deploy a series of enzymes designed to insert new genetic code into a wraith’s DNA. If successful the tweaking will not only modify the energy feeding process, but also revive and re-engage parts of an adult wraith’s digestive system in order to make use of caloric nutrition as a way to compensate for the reduced efficiency of energy feeding.

If everything goes according to plan, a treated wraith will be able to feed on humans to the effect of radically reduced bio-physio-chemical trauma, and also allow them to metabolize a variety of vital nutrients from specific liquid sources.

At this point John loses Rodney because, apparently, one of the liquids the wraith will be able to turn to for sustenance is blood ‘which makes them literal vampires, John! Vampires! Like Dracula! This is a terrible plan! I don’t know how we can condone this!’ John ends up just patting his friend on the shoulder and leaving him to his crisis of conscience.

There’s a lot that’s still speculation and theory at this point but what John hears is that this is the best shot they’ve had yet at eliminating the inherent threat that wraith pose to humans. He hears that this alliance, which has been strained and tenuous for so many years, has all the potential now to blossom. They can bind Todd’s wraith and the humans of Atlantis more tightly together than ever before.

And John… he’s honestly not sure how he feels about that.

——

It’s 10:31 AM when John cautiously approaches the door to Todd’s room, nodding in a way he hopes looks cool and confident towards the guards in the hall.

He knows Doctor Keller is still in there with Todd and he can see Professor Shino and Dr. Adeyemi with their heads bent over a couple of clipboards just inside the threshold.

Screwing his courage to the sticking place - determined to keep this chill - John edges past the two xenobiologists deep in their notes and carefully approaches the foot of the medical bed Todd is reclining on.

The room is crowded with what amounts to eight adult bodies (four wraith and four human) but John holds his own, breathing steadily and focusing on keeping himself calm.

There are a few sensors taped to Todd’s arms with their wires looping back towards a small laboratory’s worth of monitoring equipment. There’s also some kind of gently glowing scanner clipped to the side of the bed next to the wraith’s head. It looks Atlantean in origin and doesn’t seem to be hooked up to anything at all.

Generally speaking it's a tidy little scene.

There’s no dripping IVs or blood draws or anything else of a goopy nature which John is grateful for. He’s not squeamish but when he was imagining this space he was picturing something much more Frankenstein-esque, something dark and nefarious. Envisioning Todd lying uncomfortably amidst all that had set John on edge.

In reality, the commander looks… almost regal. He looks very much in control of his situation. He resembles a lord reclining before his attendants, not at all like a patient on a sick bed and John finds this reassuring in a way he doesn’t want to reflect too closely on.

“Colonel Sheppard-“ Todd acknowledges, dipping his chin just slightly in a welcoming nod. John nods back, putting his hands onto the railing of the bed near Todd’s feet just to have something to do with himself.

Keller is biting her lip, distracted by the tablet in her hands, but doesn’t seem worried as she checks over Todd’s vitals.

“Everything looks good.” She announces after another moment, her head popping up to look at Todd with a smile before her eyes pivot to John in surprise, apparently not noticing his approach.

“Good morning Colonel!” She greets happily while absently passing over her device to the oddball of the wraith scientists. He immediately snaps it up, eyes glued to the data read outs, presumably double checking her assessment.

“Morning.” Is John’s simple reply, finding it easier to keep his gaze on Keller than to look back at Todd.

“Oh!” She snaps her fingers, the scientist lifting his gaze up from the tablet at the noise, eyes narrowed. “Last thing! I almost forgot.” Jennifer ducks under some wires and goes over to a machine in the corner of the room which John had frankly not even noticed. The plain plastic device looks down right dumpy in comparison to all the other shiny, high tech equipment in the room.

“What’s that?” John frowns, watching Keller flip a switch on the back of the blocky grey apparatus. With a quiet whirring noise, a thin vapor begins to vent out the front of the machine.

“A humidifier.” She smiles. “The climate control in this room isn’t as fine tuned as it is in the infirmary. I didn’t want it to get too dry. If it beeps three times that means it needs more water and if I’m not around feel free to comm me or Carson or have the guys outside come find me. We’ve got purified water to refill it.”

Glancing at Todd John can see the male looks pleased as punch, face full up with his toothiest of grins, plainly delighted that Keller is thinking of his comfort.

“You treat your patients well, Jennifer Keller.”

The good doctor blushes a bit and tugs at her sleeves, fidgeting without a tablet to occupy her hands.

“That’s Doctor Keller, thank you very much.” She corrects lightly, almost teasingly, and John feels the another tendril of irritation perk up in him when he hears Todd huff in amusement.

“Of course.” He demurs.

John grinds his back teeth and carefully refrains from scowling.

“Well, we’ll be stepping away for a few hours then until the next dose. Like I said before, comm me for anything and there will be a nurse monitoring your vitals as well as the video feed at all times but otherwise we’ll try not to bother you.” It was one of Todd’s other requests: as much privacy as could be reasonably afforded, and Keller had been glad to oblige.

“Thank you, Doctor Keller.” Todd dismisses, not impolitely, and Jennifer nods and takes her leave, collecting a small medical case from a table near the foot of the bed before nudging the shoulders of each of her subordinates and steering them out of the room with her, the two men now debating quietly in rapid fire French about something unknown.

John starts to turn back towards Todd and startles when the other three wraith silently glide past him, also heading towards the exit.

In addition to Todd’s space another room was prepared for them to, uh, hang out in. It’s just down the hall and - technically - they’ve been granted permission to move freely between these two areas during their tenure on Atlantis. Even knowing this logically it‘s still a bizarre sight for John: two sleek wraith scientists and a bulky masked warrior casually disappearing into Atlantis’ corridors like it's something they do every day. Although Todd’s become an almost familiar sight in parts of the city, it doesn’t mean Wraith in Atlantis are a comforting vision.

He really hopes there was nothing too important on Keller’s tablet because the smaller of the scientists still has it clutched in his hands, his nose practically touching the glass as he goes over whatever information is scrolling across the screen.

“Want me to step outside too?” John asks, looking at Todd once again and jerking his thumb towards the door.

The wraith shakes his head minutely, a gesture he’s picked up through interaction from humans.

“I would like for you to stay.” Todd murmurs, voice throaty and warm and inappropriate for the current situation.

It makes Sheppard’s heart rate pick up in an entirely unacceptable fashion.

“‘K.” He grunts shoving the chair at the side of Todd’s bed with his foot until he’s satisfied with it’s position then dropping his weight into it with a sigh, his arms crossing over his chest protectively.

Pointedly not fidgeting John flicks his gaze over Todd’s body, avoiding his eyes.

The man has removed his ubiquitous black coat leaving him in his leather (‘It’s not leather John, it’s a bio-polymer’) pants and a long sleeved black shirt. One sleeve is rolled back past the elbow so Keller’s monitors can be taped to his skin. The material is thin and matte and soft looking, settled in a neat, sleek profile against Todd’s bicep even after being folded three or four times.

When John’s perusal reaches the Wraith’s bootless feet he has to choke back a burst of startled laughter.

The wraith grumbles a wordless noise of question and the human shakes his head.

“I’ve just never seen wraith socks before.” John offers by way of explanation, boldly reaching out to poke at one of Todd’s feet, the material feeling weirdly smooth and silky against his finger tip. A different kind of ‘bio-polymer,’ he supposes.

Todd answers him with his own raspy chuckle, loud in the otherwise quiet room, and the colonel can’t help smirking to himself, sitting back in his seat once again.

“We too dislike chaffing.” He murmurs and John can’t argue with that.

“They’re nice?” He says in lieu of an apology. Todd just hums.

Chancing a glance at Todd’s face John thinks the wraith looks almost sleepy, his eyes narrowed, a soft smile lifting his tattooed cheeks, his neck and shoulders fully lax against the large pillows Jennifer has provided to keep the wraith comfortable.

“If you had kept me in luxury like this during my last imprisonment on AtlantisI would have been far less eager to leave.”

Unlikely, but the suggestion has John grinning anyways. Unconsciously he relaxes further into his own chair.

“Yeah well, you’re an honored guest now. We roll out the good gurneys for our VIPs.”

The wraith hums, his eyes never leaving John’s face.

The human shakes his head after a moment, perplexed by Todd’s demeanor. “You sure Keller didn’t give you morphine by mistake?”

“Sedatives?” Todd rumbles. “No. Just her viral solution.”

John’s not so sure. He’s pretty certain it’s weird for a wraith to be this relaxed when… well, whenever. The aliens don’t seem like they ever really calm down.

It’s nice.

So of course Todd has to go and ruin it.

“How has your body recovered since your time?” Todd murmurs after a stretch of companionable silence.

For a split second John’s brain goes completely silent. The easy, companionable warmth which had been cautiously blooming freezes stiff.

The soldier’s shoulders tighten up and lift towards his ears. His eyes dart about the room to make sure there’s no secret marine hiding in the corner, spying on them.

“I’m fine.” He grunts quietly, wondering how loud they’d have to be for the guards in the corridor to hear them. He wonders how thin the walls are between this room and the quarters set aside for the other visiting wraith.

“If we speak softly we will not be overheard.” Todd reassures. Sheppard just shrugs.

He’s not too excited that the alien commander can read him so easily.

“You have not had any lingering pain?” The wraith presses and John’s frown deepens, fixing Todd with a proper look of disapproval.

“I’m fine.” He repeats. Really meaning it.

Really, after six years of dealing with this shit he knows how to recover. Food, rest, plenty of time in the bath, yoga- he’s back in tip top shape in 48 hours tops.

Todd seems to reluctantly take the hint and he inclines his head slightly in acknowledgment. “I am glad there were no complications.”

’If there were, I would’ve been able to deal with them.’ John thinks sourly, but doesn’t put voice to the words.

He checks his watch and it’s only 10:52. They’re running a schedule of liaison officers (babysitters) to sit either with Todd or in the hall outside, just to facilitate communication should any of their… guests need anything.

He’d been persuaded by Woolsey to take the first shift and keep an eye on things until Keller came back to administer the second dose at thirteen hundred hours.

He’s now deeply regretting this commitment.

From the corner of his eye John sees Todd’s lips part to undoubtedly begin another awkward line of inquiry. The colonel’s heart seizes and he blurts out the first question that comes to his mind.

“So what’s up with the little guy?”

The scientist. The weird one. John concentrates on picturing his face, his shoulder length white hair meticulously neat, his high cheekbones, only one simple tattoo right down the middle of his chin, weirdly open body language. Focusing on that particular curiosity he firmly shunts any talk of his own body and its functions to the side.

Todd blinks once before he gives in to John’s change in topic, “You are speaking of my primary scientist.”

“Sure?” John figures that’s probably right.

“He was born of Queen Blue’s hive.” Todd offers. Like this explains anything. After a beat of silence John flaps his hand to try and keep the wraith going, desperate for conversation that doesn’t involve his own biology.

The commander huffs in amusement but begins to elaborate. “Queen Blue led a small but.. radical hive. There were fewer drones, more courtiers, and far more worshippers. It was… an experiment of sorts. She had… ideas.”

This is… surprisingly interesting information.

John looks away from Todd to stare thoughtfully at the swirls of vapor pumping benignly out of the humidifier. “So a hive full of humans?”

“Among other things.” Todd confirms. “They were well cared for, as far as worshippers are concerned. Their collective presence was said to carry its own… power within the hive.

“As you know, wraith cannot… eavesdrop on human thoughts but we can perceive human intent and sense human emotion. With as many as forty or fifty worshippers on her ship, more attention and consideration was given to the needs and wellbeing of humans in Queen Blue’s hive than in any other wraith stronghold I am aware of. It was necessary to maintain order.”

John struggles to see it: happy humans living jammed into the dark, damp rooms of a wraith hive. He’s spent plenty of time on wraith ships and he’s only ever found the experience miserable.

“What happened to the hive?” He prods after a moment, genuinely intrigued.

Todd lets out an almost imperceptible sigh. “An illness was acquired at some point by one of their humans. The worshippers were still a primary food source to them, so it was a calamitous loss when nearly all of them perished from disease.

“The environment of the hive proved to be a perfect breeding ground for the pathogen. There was nothing to be done and the hive rapidly fell to ruin: unequipped to hunt in sufficient numbers to sustain themselves and either too in-experienced or simply unwilling to enter into a collective stasis state.”

A moment of something like hesitation stills Todd’s words before he continues forward, quietly. “They were mentally bloodied by the psychic void the sudden loss of their worshippers left behind.”

John swallows hard. He turns his eyes back to Todd, unaware of the stormy look which has taken over his face.

“He survived though? Your guy?”

Todd nods.

“He was still young when disaster struck. There were eight wraith youths who survived for a time by continuing to maintain a diet of physical food and drink well after they should have moved on to feeding on humans. Since their queen knew the hive as a whole was fracturing she sent her sons off, undoubtedly hoping to let her legacy live on through at least one survivor if he could convince another hive to allow him to integrate.”

“She didn’t have any allies?”

Todd shook his head slowly. “She was too... radical.

“Her hive was soon completely destroyed by another queen whom she had long quarreled with over her… strange practices.”

John shakes his head, surprised to have stumbled across such a fascinating story. “Man, how many years did we miss this lady by? Sounds like we could have worked with her.”

The corner of Todd’s mouth quirks up in an amused smirk. He shifts in his bed, bringing the arm un-laden with sensors up to rest behind his head.

“Perhaps. She was considered unstable by many. I never had a chance to spend time in her court. Her downfall came some nineteen hundred years ago. Long before you arrived in this galaxy.”

John thinks about Todd’s quiet, intense science officer and tries to imagine surviving such chaos and upheaval as a young man. Whatever ‘young man’ meant to the wraith.

“I have tracked down and courted the loyalty of three of Queen Blue’s surviving sons.” Todd continues after letting John process for a moment. “They are of strong parentage, young enough yet to be malleable in their ideals, and I have found their general attitude towards a wraith human alliance to be… mostly consistent with my own feelings on the matter.”

“Getting the family back together, huh?” John jokes, but Todd just shrugs.

“As wraith we are largely disconnected from familial ties. I have what humans would consider a full blooded ‘brother’ currently serving under my command but I feel no greater connection to him than the rest of the crew. And the loyalty he gives to me is that of an officer to his commander, nothing more. The children of Blue however…”. Todd looks uncharacteristically hesitant. It’s such a foreign expression on the usually aloof male’s face that John feels uneasy. “My primary scientist and my tertiary scientist are both her sons. They-“ Todd’s eyes shift away from John’s.

“They are close.” He finishes lamely, clearly struggling with articulating this concept and John doesn’t push him.

“Huh.” He offers neutrally. Todd seems content to leave it at that.

After a few minutes of increasingly uncomfortable silence John asks about something mundane and Todd obliges him with a mild reply. They end up chatting about nothing of much consequence, Todd respectfully not bringing up anymore questions about John’s body which suits the colonel down to the ground.

At 1300 hours on the dot Dr. Keller returns with her small retinue of medical professionals and Todd’s entourage immediately files in behind. The abrupt shift from relative privacy to this claustrophobic meeting of the minds is more than enough encouragement to get John to skedaddle.

He waves a lackluster farewell at his… well, at Todd.

He does have other duties to see to after all. Let someone else babysit the aliens for a while.

——-

At 21:53 John is in sweatpants and a tank top, trying to claw his way through another chapter of Dune before he goes to sleep.

In an ironic twist Atlantis’ ranking military man struggles with getting into most sci fi stories. So far with this one he’s at least liking the political drama so he keeps turning the page.

His earpiece is out and sitting on his bedside table but the chime of someone trying to get a hold of him is still more than loud enough to notice.

For about .5 seconds John considers pretending he can’t hear it, but knowing it’s been a good three weeks since Atlantis’ last catclysm he figures they might be due for an emergency. He’d rather not be caught with his pants down, so to speak.

Sighing and dog earring his page, he swaps his book for his comm, tucking the device into his ear before he takes the call.

“Sheppard.” He grunts, wondering what he’ll get from the other end.

“McKay.” Atlantis’ resident pain in the ass sing songs back and John immediately rolls his eyes.

“Five seconds before I switch this thing off.”

“No, wait!” Rodney yelps. ”I need you to help me out and take my shift with Todd. I’m supposed to ‘keep him company’ from ten to one in the morning, which, can we talk about cruel and unusual? I don’t know what I did to deserve- it doesn’t matter, I just can’t. We’ve been running the stultus scenario since the moon is full again but some Czechoslovakian dumb ass- ‘Rodney I swear to god-‘ “

John winces as McKay devolves into a, frankly, nationalist tirade against his fellow scientist. Zelenka’s shouts of ‘slander’ clearly resonate back through the earpiece and John quickly unhooks the thing before hollering at it from arm’s length “Fine, I’ll go! Just finish your stupid science project.” And turns the com off. For a blissful second he enjoys some precious silence, then with a heavy sigh he replaces the device on his ear, bracing himself for another long night of suffering for the sake of his city.

——

A pale, tattooed brow furrows with a frown.

“So what benefit do they actually derive from consuming the Spice?”

John scowls and flips a few pages ahead in the book like Frank Herbert might somehow have just spelled out the answer to that question for him.

No dice.

“I don’t know yet. Maybe they get high? I’m not very far into it.”

“Hmm.” Todd replies, sounding judgmental.

John tosses the book onto the small table next to him in disgust. Let Todd read the damn thing if he’s so interested.

“It is an intriguing premise.” The wraith acknowledges but John’s over it.

“Sure is.” He sighs and shuts his eyes. Tilting his head back on the chair he decides he’s too tired to talk about esoteric science fiction with an honest to god space alien right now.

It’s five minutes to midnight meaning that in an hour he can finally go to bed. He usually likes to go for a run in the morning but he already knows he’s going to set his alarm as late as he possibly can. This impromptu midnight soirée is going to be murder on him tomorrow.

“You should sleep, Sheppard.” Todd speaks low and slow and John cracks his eyelids back open blearily.

“Nah.” He drawls. “You’d be lonely without me.”

For his jest he’s favored with a grin.

“You honor me with your attentiveness.”

Shrugging John reaches up to scratch the back of his head.

He’s not- that’s not it. It’s not that he wants to be here.

“John-“ Todd starts, softly, and John feels a twist of anxiety. He really doesn’t want to talk about… whatever the wraith wants to talk about.

“How do you feel?” He interrupts instead, dropping his hands in his lap and clasping them loosely, aiming for casual.

The Alien is perfectly still for a moment before he hums and shuts his eyes, settling back against his pillows.

“Fatigued.” He admits, quietly. “I should not be in need of sleep at this point in time, and yet I find myself craving it. I believe this therapy is taxing my body.”

“Well,” John tilts his head to the side like he’s letting Todd in on a secret “it is rewriting your DNA.”

Without opening his eyes Todd nods, huffing in agreement. “So it is.”

John’s heart does an obnoxious little ta-tum against his sternum. “Do you think it’s working?”

Slitted alien pupils are revealed again, Todd staring down the length of his body at the human near his feet.

“I do not know. We will find out tomorrow.”

’Why are you doing this?’ Is the next question on the tip of John’s tongue but he bites down on it.

He’s- not sure he really wants to hear Todd’s answer.

Objectively, this is good for Todd’s hive. It will give them an advantage in resources compared to other wraith as well as more opportunities for more allies and that’s more than reason enough for Todd to go through with this.

Probably.

“John, you should sleep.” Todd manages to get the suggestion out sounding just shy of an order and the colonel scowls.

“I’m on watch.”

Looking exasperated the wraith shakes his head, the sound of his hair rasping across the pillow weirdly loud in the small room. “You are not on guard duty, there are four soldiers in the hall filling that position. You are here, informally, to keep an eye on me to make sure I do not do anything insidious. You should know better than your compatriots that I will not.”

This at least John can argue with. He snorts and rolls his eyes, already mentally cataloguing a list of past betrayals from their ‘ally.’

But Todd cuts him off before he start in on the tally of his sins.

“John, I swear to you I am here for no other reason than to trial this treatment on behalf of my people. You can trust me.”

John can just hear the edge of Todd’s purr sneaking in around his deep, soothing tones and his blood starts to rush a bit faster in his veins.

A little thrill itches under John’s skin. He swallows hard suddenly slammed with a memory-

“- Like this, John - let me help you - Trust me-”

He can feel the heat rising up to flush his skin, the impulse to squirm tugging at his limbs like puppet strings.

Trust me.

He blinks rapidly, fighting against the tiredness which makes the mental compartments he builds all the fuzzier and more permeable. He tries to wrest control of his memories back to himself.

In the present Todd tilts his head to the side, expression attentive and concerned and John fights back a shiver.

Fuck.

He shuts his eyes for a moment of relatively privacy in his own head.

He just... what is he supposed to do with this? This thing they have between them.

Their relationship has always been intense, a fraught mix of genuine concern over the other’s welfare and an inevitable, simmering distrust, but it’s now just so much more.

John spends far more time than he’s comfortable with thinking about Todd. Even though it’s been nearly six months now since the Pegasus galaxy conspired to force him and Todd into a… compromising situation. Half a year past and he’s still trying to forget the muscle memories of that night: the phantom feelings of Todd’s cool, steadfast strength at his back; Todd’s hands on his belly, his long fingers slipping between his thighs, supporting and petting and guiding him; Todd’s lips at his ear whispering things the wraith has no right to say. He can almost just catch a whiff of the ocean, of pain sweat, the funk of alien fluids-

In the clean, cool, humidity of the present moment John’s cock twitches in his pants. Eyes springing open he bites the inside of his cheek hard, grounding himself with the dull, bruising pain. It’s everything he can do to not just get up and run away, wraith-sitting duties be damned.

’Trust me.’

It’s really not that simple.

“Sheppard.” Todd’s voice breaks through the dark slurry of John’s thoughts and the colonel’s head snaps up, eyes unknowingly red rimmed and shiny.

“Yeah?”

“All will be well. I assure you. You must sleep.”

And John won’t. He can’t. But he lets out the biggest sigh he can and drops his chin back to his chest, working on punching and kicking and shoving all his hang ups back into the mental strongboxes that they’re supposed to stay in.

“I’m fine.” He grunts after a long minute of silence.

Todd says nothing in reply but John can sense his disapproval almost like it’s a physical presence in the room, looming over him.

“It pains me to see you in distress.” The Alien growls and John shuts down another shiver before it has a chance to crawl up his spine.

“I’m not distressed.” He quips back.

“Do not lie to me, John Sheppard.” Todd warns.

The colonel’s head pops up and he levels his most imposing glare at the alien. “Don’t read my mind.”

Todd looks unimpressed. “I cannot read your mind.”

John rolls his eyes. Yeah right.

“It is simply obvious when you lie. You are clearly not well. Have you not healed? Are you in pain? With young queens there can sometimes be damage done to the reproductive organs and genitalia if they deliver prematurely or under stress. I was not able to check up on you-“

John really can’t go there right now. “Stop.” He snaps, his voice entirely too loud. They can’t be overheard, but fuck, fuck, Todd needs to get that he means it.

Yeah. He hurts. And he’s confused. And he’s got body dysmorphia like you wouldn’t believe and there’s this reoccurring trauma he’s got to deal with every time he has to confront the fact that he’s other, that he’s not quite human anymore.

But he can live with all of that because he keeps it locked down tight, tight, tight. He can almost ignore all of it, pretend none of it even exists except for the one week it’s impossible to avoid.

Break it into pieces. Put it into boxes. Compartmentalize.

But Todd- Todd doesn’t seem to give shit about John’s coping strategies.

Seriously, he has the gall to march in to Atlantis with a souvenir of one of John’s most disturbing, most messed-up life experiences and wear it like a badge of honor for everyone to see-

Fuck.

Fuck Rodney for making him do this tonight. Fuck Todd for volunteering for Keller in the first place. Fuck the universe for conspiring to put John here, in this room, right now.

John doesn’t want to talk about these things with Todd.

He doesn’t even know how to talk about them. What does he say? What does he ask?

‘Hey Todd, so, for a week before I lay eggs I’m one ornery mother fucker. Anything tricks you can suggest to tone that down a bit?’

‘Yo, Todd, I’m always freezing fucking cold for a week after I lay eggs, any idea what’s up with that?’

‘Todd, my man, my heart rate kicks up so fast that I think I’m going to die whenever I panic about what my insides might look like on an x-ray these days. Got any wraith tech that could hide the fact that my body now knows how to fucking LAY EGGS?’

Does Todd really not understand how weird this is for him? How inappropriate? How disasterous it would be if even one person in this city found out?

“Look,”. He hisses, trying to calm down. “I got through this whole… thing solo for five years before you barged in. I’m fine, we’re not talking about this. Period.”

Todd opens his mouth to reply but John ploughs forward, the proverbial dam broken. “If anyone finds out about what you… finds out about me, and... this, It would take about two seconds for them to ship me back to earth and bury me. I’d never see Atlantis again, fuck, I’d probably never see daylight again, I’d just rot in some government lab with a big fat stamp that reads ‘compromised’ plastered all over my files.

“And I just-“ John exhales noisily, eyes focusing with unnecessary intensity on the way the fabric of Todd’s pants bends with his knee. “So I can’t talk about this, I don’t want to talk about this. I won’t talk about this and I need you to stop trying to make me. I need you to forget about what happened. I need you to let it go.”

John’s last syllable is barely past his lips before Todd’s own voice picks up into a low, urgent rasp. “I would never let that happen to you. If your people were to be truly foolish enough to reject you for this I would take you away from here, I would honor you-“

“This isn’t an honor.” John blinks rapidly, his breathing harsh and rapid, keeping it together, keeping it together-

“It is an honor to me, Colonel John Sheppard. I will not speak of it any more tonight if you truly fear for your safety, but do not mistake my silence for rejection.”

The quiet that descends in the wake of their words is dense with disagreement, tight, unnavigable. Minutes tick by and John refuses to meet Todd’s eyes, staring stubbornly at a corner of the room, hoping the nurse observing the room’s video feed isn’t too suspicious of their tense body language.

If John nods off into an uneasy drowse somewhere around 00:45 then Todd at least seems unlikely to tell on him

——

John’s tired down to his very bones by the time he hauls himself back to his quarters around 1:30 in the morning. Teyla showed up a bit late and was surprised to find herself taking over from John instead of Rodney.

Todd has always had a liking for Teyla and seems pleased to converse with her and John together for a bit. Only John’s jaw popping yawns are enough for them to both insist he retire for the night.

Briefly he considers just falling into bed - boots and all. He could pass out with no further fuss and sleep through to morning. Still, as tired as he is he remains agitated as hell about the whole situation, carrying tension like a yoke across his shoulders as he tries to not panic over Todd’s extended presence in the city.

A shower, he decides. A shower would be excellent right now.

The water comes on at a thought, well before he’s even in the bathroom, and he feels a pang of deep gratitude towards his city. Shuffling through the room it’s a haphazard matter of moments to see him out of his clothes and under the warm, simulated rainfall of an ancient shower head. The relief that immediately seeps into his skin is poignant, his eyes closing and his head tipping back, a groan falling from his lips freely, neither wanting nor needing to reign in the vulnerable noise.

As he feels the rivulets of water begin to forge their paths down the planes and curves of his chest, his abdominals, his hips and legs and feet, he feels his cock twitch.

...He can’t even bring himself to feel surprised.

Opening his eyes he blinks the droplets off his lashes, looking down at his groin. The beginnings of arousal are just starting to lift him, his cock shy or sleepy but definitely toying with a want that has John sighing heavily and leaning back against the shower wall, widening his stance and wondering what he’s going to do with himself.

In his mind’s eye he sees Todd, regal and reclining, elegant, tattooed brow arched inquisitively, corner of his mouth listing up in an amused smile.

And damnit. Damnit, damnit all.

His cock jerks and rises a bit further.

“Take care of yourself, John.” Breezes like a whisper against the back of his brain and John moans, too tired to keep it trapped up, confused and wanting.

He can feel the memory of hands stroking over his inner thighs, delving back to toy with his hole, playing with him where he’s stretched wide and aching around the hard shell of an egg-

Without really meaning to one of his own hands slides down his belly, past his hips, avoiding his cock and balls, gliding through the water to seek out his entrance, teasing at the tight ring of muscle gently, sliding and pressing against the furl with just a finger tip, feeling his body flutter wantonly at the sensation, eager.

He doesn’t do this. He’s never been into this. He exchanged furtive handjobs with a bunk mate in basic one drunken, lonely night but that’s it. He’s not, he doesn’t-

His fingernails are filed short to keep them from impeding with the operation of his weapon and he realizes surreally that there’s a benefit here as he carefully pushes in with his middle finger just up to the first knuckle, breath oscillating between deathly still and heavy panting as he processes the mild, barely-there feeling of being invaded by such a small thing.

He’s taken more. He’s taken so much more.

He feels the memory of Todd gently squeezing his testicles and in the present with his free hand he follows suit, chasing the ghost of a sensation, whimpering when it makes his knees quake, forces his feet to readjust to stay steady, changes the way his finger feels inside him, makes him hyper aware of every little sensation he’s visiting onto his body.

Fuck.

He wrenches the hand at his hole away, feeling woozy and uncertain and just needing release, not able to focus enough to properly explore. He wraps his grip around this cock and starts stroking, working himself up into an aggressive, needful rhythm which will spur him to a rapid release.

He fucks into his fist, thinking of cool, slick hands and the danger of claws and the strange texture of foreign features fondling him, licking at the shaft, kissing the head-

His other hand comes up to stroke low on his own abdomen, depressing the firm muscle and skin, testing the curious hollow give that hides there, reminding him that he’s empty, empty, empty and he doesn’t like that. He feels a surge of want that's almost enough to make him cry and he hates being this tired, this susceptible to the foreign commands of his Iratus genes.

God he fucking wants.

There’s a reason he doesn’t let himself think about this.

He imagines Todd standing strong and stable at his back, arms around him, jerking his wet cock, sharp nailed thumb toying with the head until a pearl of pre-cum beads up only to be washed away by the shower.

He moans brokenly, shoving his shoulder blades harder into the shower stall, pretending he’s bracing against a lover. His hips hump up fast to meet the rhythm of his fist and he can almost feel a cool, alien palm wrapped around his hipbone, guiding him in his blind rush towards orgasm-

It doesn’t take any more than that. With a whine he starts to come hard, gasping and breathless, half collapsing down the shower wall as he thrusts into the tunnel of his fist, feeling weirdly empty and aching in alien places he likes to pretend don’t exist.

His hole clenches hard around nothing because there is nothing.

A muscle group in his pelvis flexes as his body undulates through orgasm and he moans because it squeezes at some hidden nerve deep in his belly, a pleasure he’s not used to tingling and he flexes again just to feel it: satisfying like stretching out an old ache, delicious and wanton and fuck-

Another spurt of come shoots from his cock over his fist, the waters of the shower quickly washing it away.

It feels so fucking good.

He gasps and quivers and let’s himself sink all the way to sit on the shower floor, hand still loosely gripping his cock, his head hung down low between his shoulders, chin dug into his sternum.

His head feels empty and he wants to maintain that as long as he can.

The water in the shower shuts off after a few minutes of John thinking dull, nonsense thoughts. For an unknowable stretch of time he just sits as still as he can and focuses on breathing.

‘Compartmentalize.’ He thinks vaguely, body tingling, nerves thrumming with post orgasm weakness. ‘Box it up. Tuck it away.’

When he eventually works up the courage to stand and dry off and put on his sweat pants and flop face first into bed he’s ready to blame it all on the bug genes.

He does not want to have a wraith boyfriend. He does not want to have wraith babies. This is all just some random, inconvenient bits of bug DNA lurking around in his innards and he can overcome that. He will be better than that.

He can ignore it.

He’ll be fine.

——-

John shows up for his first shift of Wraith Watch: Day 2 early despite the lead in his limbs and the cotton stuffing up his head. He feels like he’s been worn down to a nub, like he’s got nothing left in the well to draw on, but there’s work to do and another day to get through and so he’s here and he’s ready to go.

Todd’s last injection will be at o nine hundred and then… then they’ll see.

Ronon’s sitting in the hall near the rest of the guards instead of in Todd’s room when John shows up. The former runner had been informed that he did not have to take a shift if he did not want to but he had been grimly determined to participate in the liaison rota. John wonders if he would have actually helped the wraith if they’d had any requests in the night.

Fortunately it hadn’t come to that.

They exchange a brief greeting before the Satedan just nods John towards the room and the colonel takes him up on the suggestion, uncomfortably anxious to see how the Wraith is doing.

How Todd is doing.

When he pokes his head around the door frame he immediately notices two things.

The first is that Todd is asleep.

He’s never seen the wraith sleep before.

The second is that he is not alone.

Sitting in the chair John has been frequenting is the little scientist he’d remarked on the previous day.

The primary scientist from Todd’s hive.

Wraith senses are very good so John has to assume the man is aware of his approach. Unfortunately there’s no way to tell based on the complete and utter lack of reaction to his presence.

“Uh. Hi.” He grunts after a few beats of awkward silence.

A flick of the scientist’s eyes in his direction is all he gets.

John edges into the room cautiously, hesitating a moment since his usual seat is taken. He tries to play it cool and just make nice with the wall, leaning his weight heavily against it, arms crossing over his chest.

“How long has he been sleeping?”

Surprisingly the scientist is quick to reply. “He will wake in a moment.” His eyes come up from the tablet in his lap and pin John to the wall. “He knew your arrival was due at oh eight hundred.”

John makes a face, trying not to be impressed with Todd’s apparently excellent internal alarm clock.

At that moment the wraith in question does open his eyes slowly, his head rolling on his pillow to turn his face towards John, his strange pupils already fixed on the human in the room. A slow grin stretches over his sharp teeth.

“Good morning, John Sheppard.” Todd rolls the man’s name over his alien tongue, filters his growling words through his monster’s maw, and John fights hard to restrain a shiver which wants to crawl all over him.

“Morning, sunshine.” He rasps out instead, unraveling his arms from over his chest so he can shove his hands in his pockets and try not to look so much like he’s totally adrift.

“You are still tired.” Todd declares, matter of factly.

Glancing over at the unfamiliar Wraith John sees him apparently fully involved in whatever data is being projected on his (Keller’s) tablet once more.

He shrugs and looks back towards Todd. “Humans. We like eight hours a night. Kind of sucks when we miss out.”

“Teyla Emmagen has told me you have a period of rest scheduled for this afternoon and tomorrow.”

An eyebrow twitches at knowing that Todd is now privy to this information but John otherwise keeps his face tuned to neutrality.

“Yep. Unless some crisis arises. Which… one usually does.”

“There will be no crisis.” Todd announces with all the authority of a goa'uld playing god and John is helpless to stop the roll of his eyes.

“Great. I’ll make sure to tell any crises that. Let ‘em know they’ll have to come back later.”

Todd huffs in good humor, everything about his body language languid and pleased and relaxed and John is honestly perplexed by the man even more than he usually is.

If their roles were reversed and John was submitting himself to some medical procedure at the hands of the wraith he doubts he would be so lackadaisical. In fact he feels agitated just thinking about it, imagining Todd smiling down at him with a face full of teeth, his hands pushing at his inner thighs, letting some weird wraith fluid slip inside-

Embarrassment streaks pink over John’s cheeks and he tilts his head back against the wall, looking up at the decadent bronzed architecture, willing the mental image away.

When he manages to get himself back under control and he can bear to glance at the room’s other two occupants again he sees them gazing steadily at one another, small facial tics and subtle shifts in body language enough to indicate to John that they’re doing some mental IM.

John really, really hopes they’re not talking about him.

For a second he’s irritated and considers snipping at them, but he let’s the impulse die down. Instead he settles for crossing one ankle over the other and adopting a proper James Dean pose, almost wishing he still smoked and had a cigarette on hand to pass the time.

Todd casts his glance over at John just often enough to keep the colonel suspicious of the wraiths’ conversation topic. A part of him wants to leave the aliens to it, just make his escape and take up Ronon’s post at the head of the hall, but something else compels him to stay. Something stronger than his discomfiture.

It’s an awkward and unpleasant way to pass forty-five minutes but he survives it ultimately by locking eyes with his combat boots and toying with the mental exercise of imagining his team initiating diplomatic relations with the denizens of Arrakis.

He can hear the shuffling of feet and chatter of eager nerds long before Jennifer appears in the doorway, beaming at the room’s two alien residents warmly before she notices John against the wall. The colonel gives her a weary wave and it earns him a gentle smile and a quick pass of her eyes over his clearly tired figure.

“Good morning Commander Todd, Colonel Sheppard, and …” she trails off as she glances towards the little scientist, seeming to have forgotten that she never knew his name and catching herself in an awkward moment.

“Samwise.” John drawls in the beat of silence that follows, not giving Todd or the scientist himself a chance to offer up a moniker.

He’s been thinking about this. It was a fight between Merry, Frodo, and even Pippin but he decided Samwise was the most hilarious.

Professor Shino’s eyes get big and his cheeks go red as he very obviously fights back a bark of laughter, his colorful clipboard shooting up to cover his mouth in an effort to hide his reaction.

The colonel goes from mopey grinning to a megawatt smile all at once, glad that at least one other person enjoys his sense of humor.

“I do not care what you call me.” The scientist declares primly, carefully not looking at John or Dr. Shino and returning to studying his (Keller’s) tablet.

The look that Keller tosses sideways towards John is exasperated but the woman is nothing if not good at rolling with the punches.

“Alright, good morning Mr. Samwise. Sam. Let’s go with Sam.”

John’s face has frozen in a shit eating grin and Todd looks neutrally judgmental. While Sam is too new to John’s life for him to read the guy, he would put money on the expression he’s directing resolutely towards his tablet as being ‘bewildered.’

Pleasantries out of the way Keller is quick and professional in getting herself set up and administering the last dose. John watches as the small syringe is inserted confidently into the flesh of Todd’s inner elbow, the plunger depressed, and in a matter of seconds removed once again. There’s no fanfare, no fireworks, no hullabaloo. Just, the quick prick of a needle and delivery of an unassuming, clear serum.

And that’s it.

Treatment done.

John’s good humor withers away again and the twisting vines of anxiety, uncertainty, and anticipation tangle themselves tighter in his guts.

“So… what next?” John pipes up after a few minutes of Keller looking at her machines and murmuring bits of incomprehensible medical jargon at her companions and Todd who, irritatingly, nods along in understand the meaning of every number and acronym coming out of her mouth.

Glancing over at him Jennifer smiles in a way John supposes is reassuring.

“We’ll wait another fifteen minutes to make sure this last dose has enough time to circulate a few times in the bloodstream, then we move to phase two where we initiate a practical test of-“

“Hold up! ‘Practical’ test? You mean Todd’s gonna feed on somebody?”

John does not yelp but the rest of the room seems to sense his alarm anyways. The medical professionals visibly tense while the wraith go very still, two sets of golden eyes turning to look towards John, assessing.

Keller’s face adopts a pinched expression. “...yes, how else did you think we were going to find out if it works?”

John feels a flush rising to his cheeks. Trying to staunch the embarrassment, he steps away from the wall and shuffles a few paces to the side, aiming for nonchalant and not agitated. “Ah, I don’t know. Guess I didn’t think that far ahead.”

Or rather, he had, but he hadn’t figured they’d be testing it out so soon. Of course they were going to have to test it out by letting Todd… feed, but for some reason John thought he’d have more time to wrap his head around that scenario.

He doesn’t even know who-

Professor Shino set’s down his omnipresent clipboard and turns to address Keller too quietly for John to hear. After a moment he glances back at the colonel, making his own attempt at a disarming smile.

“I have volunteered to participate.” He announces with a slight accent, his dark eyes gentle and reassuring.

John’s heart starts thudding with unnecessary adrenaline and he carefully breathes through his nose. His hands still deep in his pockets have curled into fists, his short nails still managing to bite into his palms.

“You sure?” He grunts, not trusting himself to get more words out correctly.

Professor Shino nods. “Yes. I was involved in building the enzymes which we used to perfect this formula and I stand by my work.”

“That’s a hell of a flex, doc.” Struggling to wrap his head around the enormity of what is about to happen John turns towards the door, needing a moment away from their eyes, a moment to process-

“If you are uncomfortable you do not have to remain, Sheppard.” Todd murmurs behind him and John freezes.

No. It’s not - It’s not like that.

He bares his teeth towards the empty entryway then gives himself a second to school his face back to neutral before turning back towards the rest of the group.

“Nope, I’m good.” He manages to scrape the words out and resumes his place along the wall, dropping back against it heavily and crossing his arms over his chest as he waits for… whatever happens next.

Which ends up being something of a nightmare. For him.

Everyone else seems disconcertingly pleased with the proceedings.

After a few more minutes of anxious anticipation, Professor Shino sits in the chair Wraith Sam vacates, undoing his lab coat and exposing his chest, protected by nothing more than a thin, standard Atlantis issue, blue-grey t-shirt.

Todd doesn’t ask if the doctor is sure. John wonders if he’s ‘reading’ the guy but any which way he just… goes for it.

And without the screaming and shouting and crying that usually comes with a wraith feed the sound of Todd’s feeding spur striking the chest to begin delivery of the feeding enzyme is… loud. Like a hollow thud and a crunch.

Professor Shino gasps, grits his teeth, closes his eyes, and holds on to the arms of the chair I with a vicious grip.

But he’s not screaming.

He’s not crying.

He’s not aging.

After no more than twenty seconds Todd disengages, his hand lifting free with a quiet, wet noise that makes John want to gag.

Every muscle in the colonel’s body is tense, some indescribable emotion in him building up like bile, his skin cold and tingling like he’s in shock.

They’re all so happy it worked.

He can see them laughing, even with the front of the doc’s shirt sporting a new tear decorated with flecks of fresh, bright, arterial blood, a grin is still practically splitting his face in half. Wraith Sam is focused with an expression of pure fascination, Todd himself is smiling his toothiest of grins, joining in the celebration of their - apparent - success.

John feels sick.

He turns away, needing to leave, grunting an excuse in something that’s hopefully recognizable as English as he approaches the door and has to push past the other wraith scientist and the masked warrior who showed up to hover.

He can’t really hear anything over the blood rushing in his head. He doesn’t look back.

He doesn’t see the wraith commander’s eyes fixed on his back as he flees.

————

Todd comes to find him in the late hours of the afternoon.

The setting sunlight doesn’t directly glare into John’s room but rather cheerfully bounces towards him off of Atlantis’ glittering buildings and rolling waves. He’s lying flat on his back on his narrow bed, eyes shut as he listens to the movement of the ocean drifting in through his open windows.

After the morning’s excitement he’d spent a few hours half-assing some paperwork, eaten a silent lunch across from an equally silent Ronan, and finally retreated to his quarters for some much needed PTO. A couple days’ rest had been carved out of his calendar well before any plans had been made regarding a practical trial of the gene therapy and while John had offered to postpone the time off, Wellsley wouldn’t hear it. Getting him to take regular R&R was like pulling teeth, he said, and there was no way he was letting Sheppard off the hook that easy.

Which left John with the uncomfortable emotional blend of being genuinely tired and needing a break while simultaneously feeling certain that in lying here and resting he was failing to show up for something very, very important.

There’s a weird sense of deja-vu when, just as he’s contemplating a shower, he hears someone toying with the door controls, trying to gain access to his room.

With a sigh he opens his eyes and stares up at his gray ceiling.

‘Open.’ He thinks, and his city obeys.

Following the quiet ‘woosh’ of the door sliding back, there’s a second of silence and John imagines Todd looking mildly surprised to find the path to John’s domain suddenly made clear. Or maybe he just looks assessing. Or smug.

“Come on in then.” John invites, resigned.

His heart thumps weirdly in his chest.

The creak of bio-polymer and quiet thud of sturdy boots on tile indicates Todd’s entrance. With another thought the door to John’s rooms slides shut just as quietly as it opened, leaving them in the relative privacy of the humble apartment.

About a dozen pithy phrases spring to mind as John lies there, hands loosely clasped above his head, resting on the pillows. Nothing makes its way to voice however, nothing feeling sharp enough or clever enough or real enough to be worth speaking.

“You are still unwell.” Todd murmurs after a full minute of silence and John shuts his eyes again.

“Still tired.” He corrects. “You?”

“Feeding returned much of the energy the therapy had depleted.” The wraith commander pauses for a moment, but when John stays determinedly placid he presses on. “After you departed Dr. Keller and I continued to experiment with some liquid sustenance - concentrated carbohydrates, alkalis, amino acids, and pnictogens among other things. It proved to be - surprisingly effective nourishment.”

John can’t help the grin which quirks lips, pleased to hear of their general success in spite of all the other… messiness. He opens his eyes and finally tilts his head to look straight on at his visitor, noting the hint of a satisfied smile also gracing the alien’s features.

“Glad to hear it.”

He means it.

With a grunt, he flexes his abs and tows his body up into a seated position. He is weary, but with stubborn perseverance he manages to pull his legs in and he crosses them, tucking his bare feet under his thighs. With his chin he points towards the severe looking arm chair across from the foot of his bed. It’s theoretically a spot for him to sit and read but he rarely uses the thing as anything more than a coat rack.

“Sit down, you’re putting a kink in my neck.”

For a moment Todd remains very still, keeping his appraising stare on John, before he acquiesces to the command. He settles into the chair like it’s a throne, his hands coming down to rest on the arms regally.

For a while they just end up staring at each other.

“What, uh- what did you want?” John asks when the silence becomes too prolonged. His tongue darts out to wet dry lips and his fingers fidget with the fraying hem of his sweatpants. He stubbornly meets Todd’s gaze but those golden eyes are still unnerving.

A quizzical tilt of Todd’s head prefaces his reply. “There is much we need to discuss, John Sheppard.”

Is there though? The colonel drops his chin to his chest, the loose thread he has between his thumb and forefinger accidentally snapping when he clenches his hand too tight. “Todd, listen, thanks for the, uh, help. Before, I mean. I didn’t get a chance to say it, but I do appreciate it. It… helped. But I’m not-“

“You cannot continue on your journey alone.” Todd interrupts, obviously uninterested in John’s dismissal.

“Says who.” The colonel grouses, eyes flicking back up towards his companion.

Todd diffuses John’s rapidly building ire with a slow blink, a quiet sigh. He dares to look like he’s the weary one in the room- like he has any right at all to be beaten down by all this. “Was it so unpleasant to have me attend to you?”

John frowns at the sudden switch in tactics, a heat prickling over his cheeks. He has to actively bat down a slurry of memories flowing up with the use of the word ‘attend,’ an uncomfortable feeling tightening in his belly. “I - what. No, it helped. Really. Uh, I’d just… I’d rather do this alone.”

“You should not-“ coming up short, Todd’s own frown deepens, his eyes shifting away from Sheppard’s face. He turns to look out John’s window, watching the little rectangle of water and sky as he concentrates on what he wishes to communicate. “It is perverse… it is cruel for you to be isolated in this. Un-assisted. Un-supported.”

That doesn’t sound right to John. Frowning harder, his knee jerk reaction is to speak up for his friends, his coworkers, the family he’s made of the Pegasus expedition. They look out for one another. They protect each other.

But he swallows back the protest because he knows what Todd means.

John doesn’t trust anyone with this particular... weirdness. He can’t.

“You are… remarkable, John Sheppard.” Todd declares after a long beat of silence, sounding… tired.

He just sounds tired.

Even remembering their time spent together in Kolya’s clutches, John thinks Todd’s tone is wearier than any he’s ever heard before. There’s something raw and honest in his delivery that John is not accustomed to.

John really doesn’t want to let his guard down right now, but with Todd’s warm, soft, low cadence this conversation feels distinctly intimate. He empathizes. He’s really fucking tired himself.

The connection makes John’s heart flutter in an anxious fashion. He reaches up with both hands to scrub at his face, pressing hard with his fingertips against the inner corners of his eyes.

“Okay.” He replies blandly, voice muffled from behind his hands.

He can hear Todd shifting, hear the bio-polymer creaking as the alien moves. Hesitating. Assessing.

“John-“ the wraith offers softly after a long pause. “If you are truly opposed to conversation, then at least let me examine you to make certain you are healthy.”

John’s whole body tenses. The blush which had started to abate blazes back up, burning against his palms, lighting him up from cheekbone to stubbled chin. He drops his hands like he’s bumped them against a hot frying pan, staring wide eyed at the alien in absolute incredulity. Weird, icy tingles rush up and down his arms as goosebumps break out.

‘Examine.’ Fuck. No. Fuck that.

“Look, I’m not worried-“ He manages to choke out, aiming for firm but hearing the tell tale cracks in the voice of a body overwhelmed.

“Only because you have no concept of the potential consequences that could come from continued neglect.” Todd pushes, leaning forward marginally in his seat, his forearms braced on the arms of the chair, his long, elegant hands turned palm up in petition. “I am alarmed to know that you have not received medical care in my absence.”

“I see Keller-“. John tries to defend but Todd tilts his head sharply in an angle of pointed disbelief, cutting off the human’s protestations.

“You made it clear in our conversation last night that no one among your fellows is aware of your condition. This means there is no way for you to have received adequate attention after I departed from you.” At this a thin look of disgust crosses Todd’s features, but it appears to be self-directed rather than aimed at John or his kith.

“I should never have allowed you to dismiss me so readily after your delivery, but I had assumed there would be another to attend to you and so justified the abandonment. This was a failure of judgment.”

“I wanted to be alone.” John asserts, more confident, but Todd shakes his head. Some of his thick white hair slips from where it is tucked back over his shoulder to drift in front of his face, the shiny strands glinting in the afternoon sunlight.

John swallows and forces himself to focus on Todd’s narrowed, golden eyes.

“Being left alone was a danger to you. While you were not obviously bleeding after delivery there remained a not insignificant possibility of tears in the uterine wall-“

“I do not have a uterus.” John growls, hard and absolutely flat, the same anxious, icy tingles from before pin-pricking all the way up over his shoulder blades and crawling to the nape of his neck.

For the first time in his life John witnesses a wraith rolling their eyes.

“You do have a uterus now, John Sheppard, along with myriad other new organs which have been allowing you to develop, nourish, and deliver your eggs.”

“Bullshit.” John snaps, for the sake of his sanity. This conversation he realizes is now wildly out of his control and careening towards ever more dangerous extremes.

Todd growls and presses on. “Tears in the uterine wall or in the cloacal passage-

“I don’t have-“

“You have developed a urogenital passage, John. It is, by all practical definitions, a cloaca.”

“Bullshit.” John persists furiously, his whole face positively on fire, still glaring in Todd’s general direction but unable to meet the alien’s eyes. The humiliation in his belly burns.

Todd pauses. Then he huffs. The frustration in his features eases to sympathy. When he speaks again it is much more gentle, his multi-tonal cadence soothing. His pale lips soften from their thin, stubborn press. Something tender touches his eyes. “Even small wounds in your reproductive organs, tears in your… passage, or in the surrounding tissues can easily become inflamed and infected. If left untreated there may be severe repercussions. Fistulas, sepsis, and infertility to speak only of a few.”

A potent silence descends.

John sulks, embarrassed and bitter and defeated by logic. He shifts, moving to brace his hands behind himself on the mattress, letting his weight slump backwards. He tilts his head back to glare at the ceiling, focusing on the long, sharp stretch in the tendons of his neck. A deep exhale depresses his chest, forms a strain on his muscles, empties out his lungs until they’re aching. He focuses on the discomfort, fighting down his shame and his nervousness that’s been digging in with little insect legs all over his skin.

“I feel fine.” He assures quietly after a few slow breaths, letting cool oxygen return to him. He tastes the sea on his tongue and savors it. He needs the familiar flavor. He needs something grounding.

“You seem tired.” Todd challenges.

John picks his head back up to level Todd with an unimpressed look.“Well, dealing with you is pretty tiring.”

Todd doesn’t collect the bait. He remains still and solemn, vision trained on the human. “I am only concerned about your well being, John.”

Yeah. Right.

“Look,” John argues (not whines) after a minute, lifting his head up to face Todd again. “Sure, I need some recovery time after.. after. And I have some pain- but it’s mild. Like muscle cramps. It’s not a big deal. Maybe every once in a while I feel something… I don’t know, sharper? More of a needling - but it doesn’t last long and I’ve had no weird bruising or bleeding or fevers so I know I’m fine. It’s just… things, uh, in there. Shifting back to normal.”

When he says the word ‘shifting’ he can almost imagine something like the slither of a snake inside him, something worm-y and alien and unwelcome. All the muscles in his lower body tense and his fingers tighten into fists against the sheets.

“Sheppard,” Instead of demanding, Todd’s voice takes on a note of… pleading. “Please allow me to examine you. I would be remiss as an attendant and a commander if I did not at least provide a perfunctory medical assessment.”

John snorts. “What, so you’re a doctor now, too?”

“... There are no Wraith doctors, per say.” Todd confesses after a pause. “We have scientists, biologists, but there is not much to be said by way of healers. Our healing abilities leave little enough need for doctors: if a wraith is to die, they die. I have extensive experience however in Wraith engineering, which, as you know, is a biological process as much as a mechanical one. I have also served as an attendant to my queens and I have had significant opportunities to learn about the female wraith reproductive structure: a biological area where we are concerned with medical fluency.”

“I’m not a female wraith.” John snips acidly.

“Obviously. But you have acquired the organs of one.”

John makes a face. “You make it sound like I went out and stole some bits to Frankenstein myself into this scenario.”

Any effort to lighten the conversation falls on deaf ears.

“Shepard,” The alien practically begs. “Please allow me to examine you.”

And really, how is this John’s life? He’s a pilot, god damnit. A soldier. A good old heterosexual American male. This… this is the stuff of the shittiest, back shelf, bottom dollar pulp fiction. The kind his mother used to hide from dad, knowing that the old hard ass would never approve of the… weirdness.

He sighs heavily and forces his hands to uncurl themselves, drumming his fingers instead against the bed just to try and expend some of the swirling, anxious energy storming around inside him.

“Fine.” He ultimately grits the word out like a curse. His teeth hurt from clenching them and the sick roil in his stomach has become a constant churn.

He really, really doesn’t want to do this. This feels like a bad idea in all kinds of new and disturbing ways. He doesn’t want to, but he’s not stupid. Yeah, he’s coping, but there are still so many unknowns inside him. So what if? What if Todd is right? What if he’s injured? Damaged? What if he’s even more messed up inside than he already knows if he is?

“Just to make sure I’m not dying.” He clarifies sharply.

Todd nods. “Of course.”

John snorts and shoves down his unease into a tight little knot. As long as Todd’s careful - as long as he’s professional - John can… He’ll handle this.

It’s just one more bit of weirdness in his life. A drop in the ocean.

Just another day exploring the mysteries and wonders of life in the Pegasus Galaxy.

Almost immediately Todd’s demeanor switches from urgent and petitioning to self-assured and eager. He stands from the chair and slips his coat from his shoulders in one fluid movement. Everything about him now exudes precision and well practiced grace.

“I need you to disrobe.” Todd insists with a tone that’s firm and low.

John pales.

“My shirt?”

Todd shakes his head, his sharp, alien features stained yellow with the long cast of the evening light, his own hands occupied with carefully folding his coat. “Everything. If you wish to keep your upper garment you could push it up past your breastbone, but I need access to your body from your diaphragm downward.”

John swallows. Well. It’s not like Todd hasn’t seen it before.

Steeling himself, John shifts himself up to his knees on the mattress, reaching for his waist bands with fingers kept furiously steady.

Holy Fuck, he’s about to play doctor with Todd. He’s really doing this?

Really really, apparently. He wiggles free of his pants and underwear and tosses them off the side of the bed before shuffling his bare ass up towards the headboard so he can sit back against the pillows. He takes Todd up on his meager concession and chooses to push the hem of his shirt up to his armpits, leaving his belly bare and his nipples only just covered.

He dares to glance towards Todd, needing something to focus on other than the staggering humiliation swanning through his guts.

The taller male has drawn up alongside the mattress and draped his coat over the bedside table. As John watches he starts to carefully pluck through one of the garment’s many pockets. John’s stomach swoops as he watches the man work, here and there catching a flash of his long, dark nails manipulating the fabric.

He knows from experience that those nails are… incredibly sharp.

His knees snap together with an audible clap.

He’s not an idiot. He knows how a pelvic exam works.

“Your nails-“ He chokes out, trying to be matter-of-fact and not half-dumb with fear.

Todd lifts his gaze to meet John’s eyes, finally producing a small, blue bottle from the depths of his coat. It’s an innocuous little thing. He steps towards the bed and sets it down on the mattress next to John’s hip.

Then he holds up his non-feeding hand for John to inspect, revealing that he has filed his claws back to smooth, blunted tips.

John’s legs don’t relax. If anything he squeezes them tighter together. “You bastard. You were planning this.”

Todd, for his part, looks nonplussed at Sheppard’s accusing tone. A deep furrow forms between his eyes as he puzzles over the enigma that is John Sheppard. “Yes,”. He answers slowly. “I thought I had made that obvious.”

Fighting back a moue of discontent John grumbles, swallowing the pissy, defensive insults that spring to mind. With a great gust of a sigh he gives up on the protest, sagging back and shuffling until he can lay with his head resting on the pillows.

His hands itch with a desire to grab something to hold on to. He settles for throwing his arms up by his head and gripping the sides of his pillow, spending some of his nervousness by digging into the cotton-covered down as deep as his fingers can go, threatening the integrity of the fabric with his clenching.

“Ok.” He grunts, resigned to the fact that this is happening, that this is really, really happening.

Exhaling he forces his legs to peel apart. He shuffles his heels a few inches out to the sides. He lets his knees succumb to the sway of gravity and separate, revealing… everything.

Todd can see everything.

He feels his balls twitch, a heat singeing his limp cock.

‘Have at it.’ He thinks to himself, focusing hard, trying to decide if he’s gonna need to access his RTI training to get through this.

“Thank you, John.” The alien murmurs. That tenderness is back in his gaze -John sees it in the split second he dares to meet Todd’s eyes - and it makes his heart thunder in a way he is not prepared to analyze.

Fortunately the wraith is measured and clinical in his movements as he begins. He rolls up his sleeves, taking a moment to step out of his boots before he joins John on the bed.

He kneels on the mattress, resting back on his heels, his long, strange body looming tall over to Shepard. His hair is pushed to drape over one shoulder, his eyes heavy lidded, and he paints an elegant little picture where he’s poised to one side of the supine human.

“I will begin by inspecting your stomach and abdomen. I am looking for anything swollen or irregular. If you feel any pain alert me immediately.” Todd instructs, his hands falling on top of John’s belly, cold and smooth and very, very alien.

This at least is not unfamiliar to John, having had plenty of mandatory physicals in his life. He breathes out shakily, telling himself that this is fine. Todd won’t find anything. Jennifer and Carson have already done this a few times over the last five years and she’s never come across anything she deems unusual.

Long fingers expertly palpitate the flesh from over his diaphragm, out towards his sides, playing over his ribcage, down, and back in towards his stomach. Todd’s gaze swaps between hyper-focused on John’s face to vague and distant as he assesses the man’s insides by feel.

A few shudders ricochet up John’s spine when cool finger tips encounter a sensitive spot here and there, but it’s not too bad.

He does feel excessively vulnerable, like a fish gone belly up before a bear, but Todd is… professional. His touch is firm and decisive, but not bruising. He conscientiously keeps his feeding hand slightly lifted so only the pads of his fingers make contact with the human’s body. John breathes deeply through his nose and tries to slow his heart rate down.

Phase one is over rather quickly, actually. Not too bad. John watches Todd as the alien sits back again with a small, satisfied nod. He meets John's eyes for a moment and gives him an encouraging half-smile. “Good.” He offers. John feels a little spark of… something warm in his chest, a bit of tension ebbing from his shoulders.

The relief doesn’t last long.

In the next moment Todd is recollecting his little bottle from where it fell over and rolled into John’s hip. “Be calm.” He commands as he removes the stopper and tips the bottle’s contents over into his palm.

That tension in John’s shoulders crawls right back into place.

John suspects this is some manner of slick and he considers throwing up another roadblock to these proceedings by insisting to know what the hell wraith make lube out of.

Distracted by some semi-hysterical speculation over what ingredients might go into alien!astroglide, he misses the rest of Todd slicking up his left hand and setting the bottle aside. The colonel startles when the wraith’s dry hand makes contact with his inner thigh, cupping the warm flesh and pressing firmly to coax the human’s legs further apart.

John hmmms anxiously but grudgingly obeys. He allows his thighs to spread apart until his hips are just on the edge of an uncomfortable strain.

A breeze gusts in from the window and tickles between his legs. It feels cold. John can feel his balls jump in reaction and a flush of shame pinks his cheeks.

Because Todd is right there. He can see everything.

John’s nipples perk up under the rucked up folds of his t-shirt, thankfully obscured from Todd’s inspection. John is mortified.

Todd, however, remains… professional as he shifts John’s flaccid penis to the side, exposing him more fully to inspection.

Fuck, this is really happening.

John fights back against a bolt of panic as Todd’s fingers disappear between his thighs. Fortunately, they are gentle and precise when they part his cheeks to find his hole, taking a moment to simply press but not enter, just… testing. They slip away after a moment to circle John’s tight furl a few times, spreading some of the slippery concoction Todd’s brought with him over the sensitive skin. The substance proves to be silky smooth, cool, and slightly tingling. The colonel feels his hole flutter unconsciously in response to the sensation and his face burns. His heart pounds. He could swear he feels every blood vessel in his body throbbing.

Gentle, persistent; Todd’s fingertips slide back to the center of him. He pauses for a long second with the pads of his fingers just resting over the hot clutch of John’s hole.

“Breathe, John.” He murmurs. That’s all the warning he gets before Todd is pressing in with two fingers, confident in the generous give of the human’s body.

The wraith is careful, obviously handling John with kid gloves, but John’s hands still start shaking as the larger male slowly invades him. He holds his breath for the whole of the long, slick slide into his body, eyes slamming shut in order to keep himself still and quiet and to just take it.

Even though he refuses to look, John knows the intensity with which Todd watches him. He can feel those leonine eyes studying the point of insertion, flicking up to observe the clicking jump of John’s throat as he swallows hard, makes note of his blunt, human fingers releasing the pillow so he can rearrange his hands to grip each other above his head.

John hones in on his pulse surging in his veins, counting the beats through the thin skin of his wrist.

He’s desperate for focus. He needs calm.

His body contracts without his say so and it brings the tingling feeling deeper, Todd continuing to slide in further: slippery smooth, relentless.

Fuck, John feels wet down there, wrapped around Todd’s cool fingers. It’s gross and weird and familiar after six years of cycles and his cock gives an interested little twitch. Muscle memory. A ghost of a burning need.

He ignores it.

When Todd’s second knuckle decisively pops past the resistance at John’s entrance John jumps, fails to halt a whimper.

All in all it takes only a few seconds for Todd to enter him but it stretches out like a small eternity. It’s all John can do to just keep counting his pulse, eyes scrunched shut.

It’s not like it’s terribly painful - or even horribly arousing. It’s just… it’s just a very distinct sensation and John can’t help but be hyper focused on it. There’s a slight strain at his entrance, a sort of achy feeling inside him as Todd makes forward progress, a tingling in his nerves that buzzes on the precipice of pleasure, all making it impossible for him to forget what exactly is happening; who precisely it is that he’s letting into his body.

“Good.” Todd rasps, breaking the tense silence that’s fallen between them. John opens his eyes, blinking rapidly to clear the moisture which had gathered at the corners. He doesn’t need to look and see to know that Todd’s fingers are pressed in almost to the last knuckle, confidently seated within the heat of John’s body.

Oh. Fuck. Todd’s inside him.

Which, yes, that’s happened before, but fuck. Not like this.

While his cock is still (thankfully) limp against his thigh, John’s uncomfortably aware of a heat churning low his abdomen and a pink stain on his cheeks. He grits his teeth and ignores the fury of his heartbeat.

“I am going to begin your internal examination.” The wraith announces, already rotating his wrist with a wet, slippery sound, turning his hand inside of John. The colonel bites down on his lip hard to keep from physically responding to the slow, delicious scrape of Todd’s fingers over his inner walls.

It’s intense - having Todd… inside him. Having the full weight of Todd’s scrutiny, focused in on his flesh is….

Stimulating.

Familiar.

Oh, fuck-

“I am going to press upwards from inside you,” Todd purrs. “While pressing downwards on your abdomen. It will allow me to feel for any abnormalities.”

“My whole body is an abnormality.” John croaks, but does not otherwise argue, tightening the grip he has on his own wrist.

Focus. Calm.

The two fingers in John’s body begin to curl upwards, generating a building pressure in John’s passage which makes him want to whimper. The wraith’s other hand, his feeding hand, presses palm down on John’s lower abdomen.

Between these two points of contact, Todd explores John’s body.

John has a hysterical flash of the horror show it would be if Todd just decided to feed right now and a spike of adrenaline kicks his already anxious heart into a frantic staccato.

“I will not hurt you, John Sheppard.” Todd soothes, the usually confident, snarly man adopting a gentle tone for John’s benefit, his voice rumbling deliciously over the syllables of John’s name. The push from his feeding hand softens for a moment so he can pet the sensitive skin of John’s belly soothingly.

Sheppard can feel the growing throb of his own pulse in his lower body, arteries and veins pumping hard. John’s jaw clamps up tight around the whine which wants to worm free of his throat, his nipples aching under the barely-there protection of his t-shirt.

This is nothing like when he last had Todd between his legs. There’s no rush of Iratus instincts and hormones urging him along, numbing him to reality, making him pliable, loose and wanton.

It’s not… terrible.

Todd turns his wrist again. John can feel him move, feel the solid confidence of his touch, exploring another section of his insides. That’s when his fingertips encounter John’s prostate. The soldier’s breath escapes him in a sharp gasp, his hips jerking at the abrupt punch of pleasure.

It’s disturbingly intense and John’s chest feels tight, his watering eyes slamming shut as he starts to pant.

“Done yet?” He chokes out, needing this to be over soon, ready for a clean bill of health and a chance to banish this latest episode of ‘The Fucked Up Life of Bug John’ to the archives.

“Patience.” Todd chides and John’s eyes slit back open to glare at the man kneeling between his legs.

Meeting his heated expression, Todd’s head tilts in a way which is almost differential, but he makes no move to retreat from John’s body. “I will be finished shortly. Patience.. Trust me.”

Holding John’s gaze he presses up hard against the sensitive gland inside him and the human chokes, wet eyes going wide, body tensing, hips trying to thrust up against Todd’s restraining weight. John’s cock goes from tumescent to properly hard, balls jerking up against his body as a spark of arousal zaps his nerves.

“Todd-“ John tries to make it sound like a threat, but he’s half humiliated, half desperately turned on, out of breath and a little dizzy. The muscles of his legs, his hips, his thighs are starting to ache for how hard he’s restraining himself and the steady, obscene massage the wraith is subjecting him to robs him of coherency.

“Do not be embarrassed. Do not be afraid of what you are feeling.” Todd orders, lowly. “Your physical reactions are a sign of your good health and a natural byproduct of this stimulation.”

“Could you not though?” He gasps because this is insane, this is too much, far far too much. He didn’t agree to this. He didn’t ask for this. He’s been telling himself for months that he would never… he would never be like this for Todd again.

After a moment the wraith reduces the pressure he’s holding against John’s prostate, but only in favor of pushing his fingers in even deeper, all the way to the webbing of his hand, burying themselves into John’s body.

“Fuck, Todd-” John hisses, his passage squeezing tight around Todd as he’s seized with a surge of arousal.

“Obey your instincts John, it does not impede my exam.”

“This is sick.” He whispers, overwhelmed and wanting, a flush high in his cheeks.

“Trust me.”

With a snarl John pushes his head back against the pillow and lets his toes curl against the blankets. His hips and abdomen are effectively pinned in place by Todd’s superior strength, but his knees are free to bend, his back to arch, his shoulders to press into the mattress.

Todd shifts his hand and withdraws his fingers by an inch or so before thrusting forward once, twice, three times in quick, hard succession, making sure to strike John’s prostate each time.

John’s lips part in a silent cry, his cock full and flushed and curved beautifully against this belly, a glittering bead of moisture pearling up at the crown.

“You feel healthy, John.” Todd compliments, low and hot. John wants to open his eyes, wants to glower at the alien for whatever smug ass expression is surely painted over his face, but he can’t. He’s too busy squeezing around the digits that are penetrating him. Each contraction of his muscles forces the smooth, firm form of Todd’s fingers to rub against the sweetest places inside him, jolts of lust shuddering through his system.

“I suspect that these muscle groupings here-“ Todd curls his fingers and pulls his hand part way out, massaging hard along a particularly blissful line of nerve endings. John breathes heavily, thighs quaking. “-were somewhat weak and underdeveloped when you were last in season.”

Todd thrusts back in and John’s whole body jerks. With a moan he rocks his head against the pillow, his objections drowned out by the fact that this feels so fucking good. He should snarl, he should punch, he should pull away-

And he doesn’t do any of that. He moans low and needy and contracts tight around Todd when the wraith thrusts in with particular force, wanting to keep the probing press of the alien’s finger tips tucked up against the place where he needs it. He wants them to keep rubbing at where he’s swollen and hot and needy and fuck, fuck, fuck-

“The sharp pains you were experiencing-” The wraith continues, speaking so confidently, so gently. “-were your body attempting to contract these muscles in order to reform them to their dormant state.”

A grunt that could be either acceptance or protestation is all the reply John can muster. When John’s body softens its grip, Todd straightens his fingers, pulls back a couple inches, and casually resumes fucking in and out John, regularly visiting the human’s prostate with devastating effect.

“It is a good idea to train these muscles, John. It will reduce your pain in future seasons.”

Now John’s choking, his eyes slitting open to stare at the strange, other-worldly beauty of a man casually finger fucking him to orgasm.

“Tighten around me again.” Todd commands, his voice still soft but his eyes are filled with a golden fire that burns.. John locks his gaze with Todd’s and cannot look away, feeling warm and dizzy and shivery and fuck- “bear down on me. It’s time to finish. I want you to orgasm for me, John. I want to see you finish.”

And John can’t help himself. With his cock completely ignored -wet and needy against his belly - His insides burning and desperate and slick - He can’t help himself. He comes.

It’s sudden in a way that startles him, his hips trying to jerk up as his wanton cock begins to twitch and spurt across his belly and chest, shooting jets of hot come all over himself in tandem with Todd’s continued rubbing of his prostate. He wants to thrust with it, to fuck into the air, but Todd’s restraint of his lower body is absolute.

Surprised, panting mewls are all that the human can articulate, his thighs tensing, toes flexing, his shoulders pushing back hard against the mattress as he gets pummeled by a rolling electric pleasure cascading out from the erogenous zone inside him. The pleasure is pulling on his muscles and igniting his nerves all up his belly, his chest, his hips, his thighs. He tenses and shudders and whines and it’s deliriously good.

Tears gather at the corners of John's eyes and he squeezes again, frantically contracting and releasing around the long, skilled fingers buried in him, milking spurt after spurt of come from his body. Emptying him out. Destroying him. .

“Good.” Todd purrs and fuck, fuck him, the smug green son of a-

John whines, moans, can’t help but let go of all the desperate sounds that gather in his throat, needing to be heard.

Slowly Todd stills the motion of his fingers, pressing firm for a long, aching moment before relaxing his hand, softening the intensity of his touch. John pants and he stares up at the ceiling through a sheen of moisture, blinking rapidly to try and clear his sight. Oh fuck he needs to get his head on straight. Fuck, he needs to get his head examined-

The alien sound of Todd’s purr changes pitch slightly. John drops his eyes and watches at the wraith turns his head towards John’s knee, the appendage having ended up bent and pressed against the alien’s shoulder at some point in the proceedings.

Fuck.

John wants to draw it back, to straighten it out, to end the unintended intimacy of it, but his brain and his body aren’t ready to cooperate with him just yet, his nerves still singing with the aftershocks of incredible pleasure, his heart still pounding, his head still spinning.

As John watches Todd presses his face to his knee - not really a kiss, not really - and closes his eyes for just a moment, purr vibrating through the contact, the scrape of Todd’s beard a tickle against John’s skin.

Fuck. Fuck.

Then the moment passes and Todd straightens himself up and carefully maneuvers John’s leg down, straightening it out to rest against the bed.

When his tapered fingertips abandon his hole, John feels hollow. He inhales sharply, fighting down a pang that almost feels like grief twinging in his chest, trying to process the withdrawal.

“You are in excellent health, John.” Todd murmurs, sitting back fully on his heels and reaching into his pocket to pull out a square of black fabric that John can only assume is a wraith handkerchief. He reaches down first to wipe away the slick between his thighs and the spend drying on John’s belly before finally using a clean corner to brusquely wipe off his own hand. “I can find no damage or irregularity to your reproductive organs. Your internal structure appears to adhere to the models I have produced.”

“You’ve been modeling-“ John croaks, face blanching as he tries very hard not to picture a 3D projection of his innards glowing green, highlighting the thoughtful planes of Todd’s face.

His empty ass clenches and his spent cock twitches because his body is a traitor.

Todd does not reply to John’s broken comment, pushing forward with his… diagnosis.

“Conditioning, hydration, and intaking sufficient nutrition preceding and following your time will also improve your muscular resiliency.”

Casually he tucks the soiled cloth back into his pocket, a smile touching his lips. “I would be honored to assist you in these things, John.”

John blinks and looks away, face pale, eyes trained on the ceiling.

Holy shit. Holy shit.

“I have to shower.” John announces hoarsely, rolling away and off the bed in a single determined motion, only wobbling a bit when his feet swung over the side of the bed and rushes himself to standing.

“You should-“

“I should shower.” He snaps, voice firm. He doesn’t look back as he stumbles to the washroom, the water coming mercifully to life and providing ambient white noise to fill the silence he leaves behind.

He doesn’t usually close the door between the washroom and his bedroom when he showers, disliking the claustrophobia of the tight windowless space, but tonight he silently commands the door to slide soundly shut as soon as he’s inside. The space rapidly fills with billowing steam, leaving him anonymous and obscured and in that fog he can almost convince himself that Todd isn’t still out there, that he’s left, that he’s made the polite decision- for once in his stupidly long life- and given John the privacy he so obviously needs.

Scrabbling for his washcloth he tries not to let his hands shake as he lathers up with the sweet-smelling Athosian soap Teyla picks up for him whenever she visits her people and starts to methodically go over every inch of his body removing any remnant of his orgasm and more. His mind he fights to keep aggressively blank as he washes the remaining alien slick from between his legs, briefly dipping his fingers into his own hole to try and clear away the slippery reminder of Todd’s touch.

His treacherous mind whirls, refusing to settle on one thought, one memory, one perverse notion for more than a moment.

He imagines Todd forcing the door open, striding into the shower still fully dressed, grabbing him by the thighs and heaving him up against the shower wall like he weighs nothing, holding his legs apart and-

He imagines himself panting, humiliated, freshly fingered until he’s come geysers like a sophomore co-ed, Todd wild eyed and growling and towering over John with a thick, alien cock - straining, self control about to snap-

He imagines whining, face first into the mattress, Todd purring against his back, arms wrapped around his middle, holding him tight, holding him close as he fucks in and and in and in-

He shakes under the shower head, eyes wide, stinging, heart hammering against his sternum. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He has to scrub himself down from head to toe three, four times before he feels almost sane again, almost completely able to censor the pornographic vignettes parading around his skull.

When he shuts the water off he’s still breathing hard and taken with the occasional tremor but his face no longer feels like it’s stuck in a rictus of panic, his throat no longer feels like it’s raw and swollen.

He emerges from the bathroom accompanied by a cloud of steam and wrapped in a towel.

To say he’s less than jazzed to find Todd still present in his room would be something of an understatement, though at least the commander is fully dressed again in his coat and boots. The tall male sits poised at the end of John’s bed, back straight and head turned towards him, eyes hooded and serious.

John looks away, stomping to his dresser. He yanks open the top drawer to pull out a fresh pair of sweatpants. The usually sturdy piece of Atlantean furniture rattles alarmingly when he slams it back shut.

“I need you to leave.” He declares firm and deliberate. He means it. He really does.

He expects Todd’s protests and he doesn’t even listen to the words, already steeled to dismiss what he’s sure is a desire to talk, to discuss, to explain.

John drops his towel and pulls on his sweatpants before hauling open the second drawer to root around for a clean t-shirt, refusing to be self conscious of his nudity in his own damn room in front of an uninvited guest.

Todd’s voice goes quiet.

Once dressed he walks barefoot to the threshold of his quarters and throws his hands up like Vana White, the door sliding open at a thought. What’s behind curtain number one? A one way ticket for Todd to go ‘Anywhere but John’s Room’ right the fuck now.

“Leave.” He barks, not caring about the Atlantis rumor mill, not bothering to check and see if the coast is clear. He’ll come up with some excuse about obnoxious Alien commanders coming to annoy him if anyone asks but that’s to be figured out later.

Right now Todd just needs to go. John can’t do this anymore tonight. His head is spinning, his body is still- just- Fuck. Fuck.

Finally, accepting defeat, the alien rises, slowly unfolding himself to his full imposing height. His lips are pressed tight in a line of reluctance, his eyes narrowed in concern.

“We will speak more tomorrow.”

“Maybe.” John grunts, already thinking of all the hidey holes on Atlantis he can disappear into to make sure that doesn’t fucking happen.

John orders the door to shut before the last inch of Todd’s coat can even flip over the threshold. A few decisive jabs of his finger at the keypad rig the door to wail as loud as a dorm room fire alarm should anyone try to come in during the night. Todd might still be able to hot wire his way into John’s rooms but he’s not gonna be able to do it sneakily.

Alone at last John deflates like a punctured balloon, collapsing to bed and bundling himself up in his sheets and his comforter. Mind still reeling, he furiously fights with himself for silence, for sleep. Doubt and want and anger and guilt are just not helpful right now and he focuses himself instead on his furious desire to be unconscious, aiming to drown out the incessant irritation of shame and hunger and loneliness and fear.

It’s a long, long time before he succumbs to sleep.
———

The next day John sleeps in for once. He skips breakfast, shotgunning half a power bar and two full glasses of cold water before he goes for a long, long run.

All he wants, in all the universe, is to clear his head.

Maybe if he can just clear out all the fucking garbage in his brain he’ll know what to do next. He’s desperate for some clarity. He wants a course of action that makes sense.

Well, he can’t magically make all his problems disappear - nor can he conjure a wraith/human relationship flow chart from thin air - but he can wear himself out to the point where his thoughts are no longer clamoring quite so loudly in his mind.

He spends more than an hour winding his way through the halls of Atlantis, alternating back and forth between bouts of leisurely jogging and a punishing sprint, relishing the all-encompassing ache of exertion and the fire that scours his lungs. His shirt is plastered to him with sweat, his hair dark, heart thundering from honest exercise before finally he finds himself panting and gloriously fatigued at a deserted pier far away from the occupied corridors of Atlantis. After kicking his shoes off he flops down to sit with his legs stuck out under the guard rail. Dangling them from the edge he can just manage to get his toes to graze the cold surface of the water.

For a while he catches his breath and gazes out over the waves.

As his heart rate settles he catches himself wishing he’d brought his book with him. Then he’s thinking about Dune which leads him to thinking about the frustrating conversation he’d had with Todd the other night trying to explain the Bene Gesserit when he doesn’t even really understand them himself and-

He closes his eyes and turns his face into his arms that he has folded on the lowest rung of the railing, sighing loudly.

Not helping.

He resolves himself to just wile away the afternoon in silence, alternating between an almost-nap and vacantly staring out at the ocean. For almost an hour he just watches the shadow of tower NB2 travel like the spindle of a sundial over the glittering, alien waters.

A bit of sleeping in and the dawn of a seemingly normal new day has left him feeling weirdly detached from his life- floating beyond himself and his experiences of the past 72 hours.

Usually he has a pretty analyzing mind. He’s good at calculating odds and measuring his chances and making quick decisions that get him and his team out of a whole hell of a lot of trouble.

But when it's just him, when it's danger but not really danger, when he has hours to himself to pause and consider his options it’s a completely different story.

He feels tangled up, dwarfed by a problem he can’t fully wrap his head around. What the hell has he gotten himself into? How deep a hole has he dug for himself and how the hell is he supposed to climb out?

The uncertainty is killing him.

What he likes is to know who he is. He likes knowing what to do. He likes protecting people. He likes saving the day.

The glorious chaos of the last six-ish years has really just fucked all that up for him. The Ancient Gene. The Iratus bug. The Wraith. The Genii. Todd. Everything about this ridiculous corner of the universe seems to have been custom manufactured to mess with John’s sense of self.

He snorts in a fit of dark humor, closing his eyes and dropping back to lay flat on his back. The sun’s now blocked by Atlantis’ architecture. The generous shade leaves him cool and comfortable in the warm, Lantean breez.

The worst of it is John is pretty sure if he made a real fuss, put up a serious fight, Todd would actually let it all alone. He might still try to bring it up from time to time but he’d stop chasing John around like a kid on the playground with a crush. He’d stop insinuating himself into situations where he gets to see John with his pants off, gets to put his hands on John, gets to stare at him with those freaky, gorgeous alien eyes. If John snarled and got pissy and put his foot down-

Groaning he spreads his arms out wide, gazing up past Atlantis’ dizzying spires to watch thin, wispy clouds scuttle across the blue sky.

He also knows If he put up a real fuss, if he started an actual, nasty fight…. Something kindling between them would be snuffed out. Something weird but genuine and… and meaningful would recoil and they’d never lure it back again.

They’ve had… something between them right from the very start. Something that kept them both intrigued with the other. He can trace it all the way back to their first days together: those long, agonizing hours spent in Kolya’s tender care. Even when Todd was just a weary voice in a neighboring cell and John had no idea what kind of creature he was talking too, something had sparked between them.

As much as John can bitch and moan and aggressively ignore it, it’s still there. Just like his Ancient Genes. Just like his Iratus-bug Tom-foolery. Maybe he didn’t ask for these things, but they’re a part of him anyways. This thing he has with Todd has never really felt like a choice, it’s just there, enmeshed with him. With them. For better or for worse.

Damnit. He fucking liked Todd. He’d liked that Todd and he had this thing going, this… rapport, this give and take.

Now he just… with Todd’s discovery of… well, it’s all different, isn’t it? Things have changed and Todd won’t let them return to the way they were before no matter how desperately John tries to steer their relationship back into neutral territory.

Reaching up to shove the heels of his hands against his eyes he groans in frustration.

The actual worst of it is John knows that he really should talk to Todd. As much as he’s been avoiding it there’s so much Todd can surely tell him, even if its just conjecture, even if it’s just consolation.

Maybe he can even reverse this. Maybe he even knows how to snip away at the parts of John’s DNA that have been chewed up and spit out weird and wild and wrong. Maybe he’d do that for John, if they actually just talked about it. If John actually asked.

But when he dares to let himself remember - straining, tense but unafraid, his back to Todd’s chest, the man’s hand between his legs, the wraith’s breath gusting over the shell of his ear as he pants next to John, turned on to the point of growling, tense and hard and enraptured-

He wonders if he even wants to go back to who he was before.

Staring up through his fingers at the sky he sighs.

He’s pretty adaptable, really. He can really roll with the punches, work with what he’s given.

It’s just… this is pretty out there. Even for the life he leads. Even for the Pegasus Galaxy.

Fuck.

He does really need to talk to Todd. Even if he’s mad at him. Even if he’s been an asshole.

When John’s watch beeps to tell him it’s seventeen hundred hours he sighs and forces himself to rise and start the long trek back to his quarters. He finds the nearest transporter and asks it to take him halfway home, stepping out of the little cubicle at the very edge of occupied Atlantis near the green houses. He still wants a bit of a walk to get his head on straight, needing a bit more time to get ready to reintegrate with the rest of society after a long afternoon of intropsection. He’s grateful that no one tries to waylay him as he trudges back to his room, still feeling worn out and depleted and in need of more rest.

When he reaches his quarters he thinks the doors open, already planning on another shower, another power bar, more sleep-

So of course Todd is sitting on the bed waiting for him, back straight, a neutrally pleasant expression on his face, looking for all the galaxy like a bottomless well of patience, his pale green skin nearly glowing in the rapidly diminishing late afternoon light.

Friendly and unassuming like a spider.

“Stop stalking me.” John grunts after a split second pause, drawing his sweaty t-shirt over his head and making for the shower, definitely not fleeing from the wraith interloper.

He hears the creak of Todd’s coat as the man shifts to keep John in his line of sight. “I am here to update you on the progress of the second trial.”

His words actually cause John to pause with his dirty shirt fisted in his hands, the cool breeze through his window chilling the sweat beaded between the sparse, dark hairs of his chest.

“The little guy. Sam.” He clarifies after a moment, needing to catch up. “He OK?” He concedes to turn towards Todd for a moment, his posture guarded but still curious.

He’d honestly forgotten that they were going to start the second wraith on the gene therapy today.

Which, isn’t great. He really needs to get his head on straight.

“Your concern is appreciated.” Todd nods, the motion weirdly stiff and deliberate like he’s forgotten how to do it properly. John narrows his eyes, noting that the wraith’s hair is a bit wild today, fly-away and messy like he’s been running his fingers through it. “My science officer is well. The first four rounds of injections have proceeded without incident.”

John forces himself to stop noticing Todd’s stupid hair, locking in on his golden gaze instead.

For a long moment he waits, expecting some further information.

When none seems forthcoming he snorts - irritated - and turns away once more.

“Great. Thanks for that. I’m going to clean up now. And you’re going to leave.”

“John-“

Frustration spikes. He’s only just finally acknowledged to himself that he needs to talk to Todd. Can’t the universe give him a moment to settle with that thought? A little freaking space?

Can’t he just come at this on his own terms?

He wrings the t-shirt in his hands meanly, his back still to the wraith. “Don’t ‘John’ me you long, tall, shithead.”

“John-“ the second time he says the Colonel’s name it comes out a touch desperate, his multi-tonal cadence warbling slightly and fuck if it doesn’t make John waver.

Damn it. Damn it damn it damn it.

“No, no, don’t do that, I don't know what to do with you when you talk like that.” John pivots about, crossing his arms over his chilly chest, glaring at his unwelcome visitor.

In an unsuccessful attempt to placate Todd has put his hands up, fingers spread wide.

“I only want to talk.”

With a barked laugh the colonel throws his sweaty shirt in the general direction of his hamper. It misses completely and thumps softly against the wall before puddling on the floor.

“Right, like you only wanted to ‘examine’ me last night?”

Todd’s brow furrows.

“Yes?” He replies, distinctly uncertain.

John doesn’t know whether he should laugh or take a swing at the guy.

It’s easiest to settle for glaring. “What do you want from me? I mean, really, what do you want?”

This question Todd has an immediate answer to. “I want to assist you. I want to attend to you.”

John’s guts twist, an unwelcome flutter itches in his chest. “You want to fuck me.” He clarifies.

Todd’s head tilts slightly to the side, assessing. “Mating acts are a part of my desire, yes.” He answers slowly.

“God damn-“ of course. Of fucking course. John snarls, furious at the male’s blasé acceptance of his own bullshit-

Todd rises to his feet, unfolding to his full, imposing height, his teeth bared as he backs Sheppard down, hushes the human before he can start shouting. “I have long admired you, John Sheppard. Our genetics are now compatible, and we are well matched in many of our interests. Is my attraction truly so absurd?”

John’s mouth hangs open, an argument half formed in his throat but refusing to come to the fore. After a moment his teeth snap shut with an audible clack, his face scrunched up in consternation.

As the seconds bleed on the mounting tension sags. John’s frown deepens as he remains unable to form a reply.

While not comfortable, the continued silence results in an easing of Todd’s body language. His shoulders drop, his raised hands slowly lower to settle at his sides. “You leave me at a loss, John. I- you seem to view my actions of the last few days as disingenuous and deceitful, and I- truly, I am at a loss.

“You wish for me to articulate that I find you attractive? Alluring? Very well, I do. I’ll declare it, easily. From our very first, strained moments of acquaintance I have been intrigued by you in all manner of ways. The recent reveal of your hybridity has only heightened these attractions.”

“You want to fuck me.” John jabs again, worrying the point like a sore tooth, frustrated that Todd just-

Todd growls but doesn’t deny it. “Yes. I do. I want to fuck you.” The curse sounds foreign and absolutely foul in Todd’s alien cadence and John barely locks down the violent shiver that wants to crawl over his skin.

“Nice to hear you admit it!” Even as he’s snarling John feels his cheeks flame with embarrassment and an unwelcome heat.

Todd’s eyes narrow and he tosses his head back to growl at the ceiling agitatedly, brought to the cusp of despair, looking as frustrated with this conversation as John feels.

“I have never tried to deny it!” Todd growls when he deigns to look at John again, his double vocal chords rumbling lowly.

And that’s it. John can’t really take any more of this. The tension is up past eleven and the colonel wants to explode. He whirls around and with a snarl he kicks the wall in a petulant fury, the metal architecture unkindly standing firm against the strike, showing no mercy to his miserable human toes.

“Fuck!” He hisses. He doesn’t usually swear this much, he really doesn’t.

Todd just brings out the best in him.

“Fucking fuck!” He kicks again despite the pain, needing an outlet to his frustration.

So much for calm.

Devolving into growls he thumps his head against the wall, staggering a bit to find his balance when he puts his sore toes back to the floor.

“John-“ Todd rumbles and John throws a hand up over his shoulder, one finger raised in the air.

“Give me a minute.” He grumbles, voice muffled by the cool metal he’s smushed his nose up against.

For a full minute there’s no sound in the room other than both their haggard breaths.

John sighs and turns around, slumping back in defeat, daring to meet Todd’s eyes again and to not back down. They need to talk. They need to actually talk. No matter how much he doesn’t want to.

His arms hang heavy at his sides and he turns to flatten his palms against the wall, needing the support, the grounding certainty of Atlantis standing steadfast and tall at his back.

“You don’t understand how hard this is for me, do you?”

Todd holds his gaze for a long moment, expressionless. Then he blinks and seems to deflate. In a generous display of uncharacteristic awkwardness Todd walks backwards a few steps before dropping heavily to sit on to the end of John’s bed once more. His breath comes audibly in a few deep pulls, leaving him in a long, low hiss. When he meets John’s gaze again he looks like he’s been humbled for once in his long, long life. “You must help me to understand.”

That’s the killer though, isn’t it? How is he supposed to put this all into words? They’re separate species for fucks sake, literally from different galaxies. Is there anything John can say that will make Todd really get it? Is there any combination of sounds he can produce which make this all feel less… bad?

John takes a steadying breath.

“I don’t- uh-“ He falters right out the gate and has to swallow hard before restarting. “My ticket here, to Atlantis, it wasn’t punched the same way it was for everybody else.”

His eyes want to shift to the side but he forces them to stay fixed on Todd, desperate to sort all this shit out, desperate to be done with this crazy making, desperate to have the man understand.

“Most folks here worked for Stargate command or some other top secret government outfit for years before they got green lighted for this mission. They had time to get used to the idea of there being different planets, and species, and cultures out… here.” He lifts one hand and waves it vaguely, trying to encompass the whole of the Pegasus Galaxy.

“Me, I kind of just fell into it. One day I was just a… disgrace. I had more red marks on my record than black - I’ve never been great with authority, believe it or not - so my career was going nowhere fast. Then, surprise surprise, it turns out I have an Ancient gene and I’m sitting in an alien chair in Antarctica that has the power to launch ancient missiles, I’m being told I have the power to defend my entire planet from alien invaders, I’m being asked to take a trip billions of light years away from home with no guaranteed return trip.

“And let’s be clear, I was never meant to be any sort of leader once we got here. I was just supposed to be another soldier. Not any kind of…” A flush colors his cheeks, old demons of self-doubt and shame cackling at him, rearing their ugly heads.

He inhales sharply before pressing on. “So yeah. It’s been a real… weird road for me. A lot of blind leaps and dumb luck.

“It’s worked out so far. I’ve been able to figure it out and I’m honestly real proud of what we’ve done. It’s not been perfect, there have been mistakes - big, bad mistakes - but overall it’s good. We’ve done good.”

At this John trails off, finally letting himself close his eyes against Todd’s penetrating stare, needing a moment of privacy to steady his resolve.

He’s really not… good. At this.

“Todd, I’m not… I don’t know what to do. About this. About me. I don’t understand what’s going on with me, I never have, not for the six fucking years I’ve been living like this. I’ve just coped. I’ve dealt with things as they’ve come up and it’s worked out so far.

“But it’s been nothing but survival mode, survival mode, survival mode.” He slashes his hand through the air each time he says it, striking out in time with his heartbeat, his eyes peeling open again just to stare at the overly-ornate patterns faintly etched into the floor.

“And then you show up and all you want to do is… you want to, to touch and you talk at me about things that are are horrifying and you fixate on the very same shit I’ve been fighting like hell to just ignore for six years-”

Todd makes a sound like he’s going to interrupt and John shakes his head vigorously.

“Everything about this feels wrong to me. I mean, what the fuck is going on with my body? I… I lay eggs Todd, like, what the hell is up with that? Do I even qualify as human anymore? Am I just lying to myself and everyone else while really I’m some monster walking around in a human suit? Am I gonna just snap one day and start eating people?”

Todd makes a small noise like he finds John’s concerns ridiculous and John grits his teeth in righteous anger.

“The thing is I don’t know! Wouldn’t be the craziest thing that’s happened in this city. I’m an anomaly. I’m a liability to this whole expedition. And I know it. And I keep just… pretending I’m not.”

“John, your biology is not a threat to your fellows, I assure you.” The soothing tone of Todd’s voice, like a hum, like a croon, drags John’s eyes up from the floor.

“If you would trust me John, let me show you-“

John shakes his head some more, crossing his arms over his chest as he feels a shiver break out over his skin. A laugh bubbles up darkly from his throat

“See, that’s the other thing.” Todd’s yellowed irises glint in the low light of evening.

John swallows and stares back. He doesn’t know it but his own pupils are blown wide in the falling dark, his eyes gone big and black and fathomless.

“I don’t know what you want, Todd. I- I get that you want… sex.” He doesn’t stumble on the word like a teenager with his first girlfriend - he doesn’t. Instead he spits the word out like a bug that’s flown into his mouth, startling and gross and unwelcome. He ploughs on. “I get that you’re intrigued by me, by the fact that I’m a… whatever I am. But Jesus Todd -“

John swallows hard, laughs a little, completely at a loss.

“I don’t know what you want.”

A moment of silence descends, broken only by the quiet roll of the ocean some three stories below them, licking at Atlantis’ walls.

Even with the window open the air in the room feels tale to John. Close. Unfiltered. The adrenalized blood moving through his body fights back against the lingering ache of his running and he wants to get out of here, he wants to go, he wants to run again even farther, even deeper, hollow out a solitary existence in the most deserted corner of the city, make of himself a hermit, a recluse, an urban legend-

Todd’s breath rattles weirdly on his next inhale. It’s a quiet sound, something John never would have heard if everything else wasn’t so silent, so still. It’s a hiss. An insectoid clatter. The alien breathes through his mouth, teeth just barely separated, and John knows just how acute wraith senses are.

In the back of his mind in some deliberately neglected sense memory John knows how much a wraith can smell, how much an iratus can taste, how much the human body betrays itself.

Panic, fear, sickness, blood-

“If I have been less than transparent in my intentions, then let me clarify.” Todd scrapes out the words, his voice tugging John away from the dark corner of his mind that he was sinking into.

“I want you, John Sheppard. In whatever way I can have you. For years I’ve enjoyed you as an erstwhile ally or delightful adversary. I would have gladly continued on with things as they were, until your last breath was drawn… far too quickly, no matter the end.

“So your behavior when I first arrived six months ago… infuriated me. You suddenly changed our game. Instead of the give and take I had been looking forward to, I found you avoiding me, leaving me to guess at what I had done to deserve such complete dismissal.

“When I found you, here in your room... when I discovered the truth-“ At this Todd rises from the bed once again but it’s no slow, measured thing this time. Now he surges up, stepping forward before he’s even reached his full height, moving quickly to crowd John against his bit of wall, hair wild, hands raised, emphatic.

He gets close enough that John can see the sensory pits on his cheeks flare, watches his nostrils twitch, his pupils dilate, tasting the air between them. “I have entertained thoughts of us engaging in physical acts of pleasure almost from the first moments of our acquaintance.”

John makes a face, imagining Todd trying to put the moves on him in the cold, moldering dankness of Kolya’s dungeons. The wraith has the gall to laugh.

“You were truly that alluring, John Sheppard. Your insolence, your stubbornness, your wry humor and infuriating hope - they were all very tempting, particularly after such a long time alone in that lifeless place of pain and endless, gnawing hunger.” Todd’s laughter settles into a wry, affectionate grin. Carefully he reaches out, pressing the fingertips of both hands very gently to the wall on either side of John’s bare ribs, their bodies mere centimeters apart. A rational portion of John’s brain tells him to push the larger male away, to set some space between them.

The rational part of John’s brain is drowned out by the rest of him - all those parts of his psyche that are made of curiosity and pride and pigheadedness and a love for thrills and calculated risks.

“We have always been well matched, John Sheppard, and when I found you here, smelling like a queen in lay, your body so obviously gravid, broadcasting its needs so loudly-“ Todd growls, his sharp teeth snapping together as he boldly sniffs at John’s neck, the human’s skin unshowered and still ripe from the day’s exertions.

Sweat and sunlight and saltwater.

“I want to attend to you. I want to be here with you whenever you are in season, to give you pleasure and care and comfort. I want to breed you, if you’ll have me, and if not I would still wish to aid you in your times of need.

“I want to elevate you to a position worthy of you, I want to show you off to my hive for I know they would appreciate you far more than your feckless human kin.

“I want to protect you, Sheppard. If you truly have reason to fear for your safety here then I want to shield you from those dangers.

John thinks this is all just too insane to contemplate “I’m not a queen. I just have some fucked up strands of bug DNA shoved in between the normal stuff.”

Todd sighs and drops his chin to his chest, visibly forcing himself to calm down.

“You are not wraith, no.” He considers after a few steadying breaths. John hears more than sees the scrape of Todd’s nails over the wall as he flattens his palms down, bringing them just a little bit closer. “And I do not see you as a queen as I would one of our females.”

“Then all this talk about attending-“

“Colonel John Sheppard.” He interrupts, intent to speak his piece. “My command is made up entirely of wraith who have, for one reason or another, abandoned traditional hive structure. I am confident they would accept you as queen if I asked it of them, if I showed you-“

“Don’t you get how crazy that is? I’m human, Todd, no matter how much Iratus DNA is mixed up in me. I don’t belong up there, I belong here, on Atlantis, with my people.

“And they can’t- I can’t let Atlantis know about this. It would destroy me.”

“I understand your trepidation.” Todd soothes quickly, trying to cut off John’s downward spiral before it picks up any speed. “I have no intention of revealing to your people the full extent of your role in the hive. All we would request of your Mr. Woolsley is for you to be named ambassador: liaison between wraith and Atlantis. It is a role you already fill, if informally.

“It would be impossible to hide your hybridity from my hive but they would keep your secret if it was asked of them. They would be loyal.”

“Loyal to a human?” John snarks, disbelieving.

“Loyal to a queen.”

“M’ not a queen.” The human grumbles, feeling like he’s saying it for the thousandth time.

Todd just hums and cants his head minutely to the side. “You could be.” He offers. “I would have you be queen. My queen. I would not require you to identify as female to honor you this way: you still possess all the necessary characteristics to excel in leadership. You would command me, Shepard, should you consent to my attendance.”

“Liar.” John snaps, not really angry, just absolutely certain that this is bullshit. “You’d never let me boss you around.” Raising an eyebrow in challenge John takes a second to rolls his shoulders against the warmed metal of the wall, letting the muscles of neck and upper back unclench and resettle.

Todd’s lips peel back to just reveal his sharp teeth, recognizing the humor of it. “I would heed your warnings, consider your opinion, seek your advice.” He clarifies. “I would hear you, in all things. I would attend you, serve you, John, if you would have me. And you in turn could support me and my hive in ways I cannot even begin to quantify. With your aid, a truer, fuller alliance with Atlantis could form. We would be greater than any hive has ever been. We would bring a new era of stability to this galaxy.”

John shakes his head ruefully, and takes note of his heartbeat slowing in his chest. “You sound like Lux Luther, you know that?” He snarks. “You sound like a super villain, always scheming-”

Always good at ignoring John’s colorful cultural references Todd just shakes his head, a few fly away strands of his hair tickling over John’s face. “I am envisioning a better future for both your people and mine, united.”

John falls to silence, trying and failing to to not find Todd’s gilded future appealing: a future where the Wraith are kept in check, no longer pillaging and murdering their way across the galaxy. A future where Atlantis no longer lives on a hair trigger, never more than one false step away from utter annihilation.

It sounds… honestly it sounds good. Too good to be true.

“I don’t see how some random genetic mutations suddenly make me such an asset to you.” In his chest his heart clenches and he swallows sharply to try and loosen the ache of it.

Todd seems uninterested in this self deprecation. “You have always been an asset, John. I never would have even considered the potential of a wraith human alliance if it were not for you. Your remarkable biology has simply made your value all the more pronounced.”

A pointed silence falls, expectant, and John stares straight into Todd’s yellow eyes, trying not to get lost in their alien appeal as he tries to think clearly about all this. If ever there was a time to apply reason it should be now. Now, when Todd is… Todd is asking…

’Think of it as a political position.’ John’s brain offers unhelpfully and he has to repress a shudder of revulsion. He is not meant to hold political office, he knows that for damn sure.

An attaché maybe. A consultant. A confidant. Ambassador, Todd had said, which is a title that John has a lot of complicated feelings attached to but they’re not all bad.

It’s the sort of arrangement that could bring stability. Support technological exchange. Facilitate real peace for Atlantis. For Pegasus even.

If Todd is being truthful (and, damnit, maybe John’s being naive but he feels like - in this at least -Todd is being sincere) he’s offering John a lot of power.

Does he want that? Can he even handle that?

“If we do this-“ He croaks out, brain still reeling through the possibilities even as he starts to speak, overwhelmed and uncertain, but he’s always preferred to face a problem head on and he’s so very tired of avoiding all this. “IF. If we do this, you need to know I’m not a sure thing, Todd. I’m not someone you can take for granted. I’m not easy. I’m not just gonna roll over for you, go along with every stupid little scheme you’ve got planned. Atlantis comes first. Always.”

Todd straightens his spine and lifts his head with a condescending smirk tugging at his lips. “...John, you are far and away the most challenging human I have ever had the pleasure to interact with in my 10,000 years of life. I take nothing in our relationship for granted.” John rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to retort but Todd’s not finished. He lifts one hand and places a finger gently on the human’s lips to still his comeback.

“I simply see all the potential laid out before us,” he soothes. “if only we can move forward, together. My hive, your people. My ships, your city. My vitality, your gift-“

Undeterred by the cool grey digit at his lips John goads “And you have to fuck me to make this future happen?”

This at last appears to be the proverbial straw that takes down the camel. Todd sighs and lets his hands fall back to his sides. Defeated at last.

“John, if you truly do not wish for us to couple, I will refrain. It would not… truly be necessary to our allyship.

“I can see that my attempts at comforting you have thus far done more harm than good, for reasons I do not entirely understand. My only desire in approaching you has been to please you, John Sheppard.”

The surprisingly blunt admission causes John’s still whirling thoughts to pause. There’s a lot of big picture stuff going on here, but it’s not all about that, is it?

It’s also… it’s also this. Just, him and Todd.

“Humans aren’t like this, you know.” He grumbles. He lets his head thump back against the wall a couple times before he pushes away, moving around Todd, daring to brush his shoulder as he passes, and going to sit down heavily on the side of his bed, desperate for some rest.

“If a guy goes after another guy the way you’re going after me it’s not- I’d expect, I dunno, I’d expect to get tied down and hog whipped.” John coughs, surprised that he’s blushing at this of all things and irritated by it. “I don’t expect anything… nice, or fulfilling to come out of your kind of intensity, yeah?”

The furrow in Todd’s brow has deepened into a canyon. After a moment he fists his hands once before lifting them and opening them with a jerk like he was tossing something into the air, all the while hissing something in wraith that John cannot understand. “I do not understand humans.” He rumbles once he seems to run out of steam, a heavy breath leaving his nostrils, his eyes bright with frustration. “Wraith can perceive the receptiveness of a partner through mental interactions, but humans cannot do this. If you do not make obvious your desires through physical action, how does anyone know what is wanted of another?”

“Uh, passing notes in class? Suggestive emojis? Body language?”

“That’s wildly inefficient!” Todd barks.

John can’t help but snort in laughter. “You’re not wrong.”

There’s a note of genuine humor in John’s tone. His huff of a laugh powerful enough to push back the tides of anger and frustration and shame that had been creeping in to drown them.

Todd’s wild eyes soften to something more measured, something warmer. For a long second he just contemplates John, then slowly, cautiously, he steps towards the bed. When John offers no complaint he sinks slowly down to sit next to him on the mattress, their bodies not quite touching.

“I have frightened you.” The wraith declares after another bout of contemplative silence.

“No.” John snaps, too quickly for it to be anything but a lie. Todd chuckles lowly.

“Forgive me. I only meant to aid you. To bring you pleasure.”

John can feel the heat of a flush rising in his cheeks. He tips his head back and stares to the ceiling, looking for strength. “Well, ah-“. He stumbles after moment. “That’s good, I guess.”

“You did not seem… opposed to intimacy. You appeared to even… welcome my attendance by the time you delivered your last.”

“I was pretty delirious.” John defends, mouth dry. “I- it’s a lot, doing that. It was a lot, having you… uh. I wouldn’t- I don’t-“

“You took my fingers very well yesterday.” Todd interrupts apropos of nothing and John’s whole face feels like it gets set on fire. He whips his head to the side to stare at Todd, aghast.

“I didn’t think you were going to make that sexual, you enormous asshole!” He does not yelp, he just… says it. Enthusiastically.

For his part Todd looks taken aback. “...I also did not think of it as a sexual encounter. Do you see it that way because you orgasmed? Orgasms are good for your health, John, they are invaluable for toning muscle groups essential to an easy delivery. If I am attending to you and monitoring your health it makes sense that I-”

“You will never convince me that you finger fucked me for the sake of my health.”

Todd’s expression becomes even more perplexed. “But-“

“Holy shit, stop, give me a minute, I have to think.” John gasps, putting his elbows on his knees and dropping his head into his hands. Todd, mercifully, falls silent.

If yesterday was truly a misunderstanding then… fine, whatever. He’ll ignore that one.

But the rest of what Todd’s proposing…

He could spend hours sitting here. Days even, weighing the pros and cons, comparing his own personal desires against the needs of the city, his feelings for Todd against the wraith’s past actions-

It’s a lot to consider.

Somehow, it seems like even weeks of mulling it over wouldn’t be enough. John slides his hands down until they’re just covering his mouth, his eyes glued to the floor now gone purplish blue in the dark as evening has settled over the city.

This is ludicrous. Insane. Inconceivable.

In the end, this is John’s lot in life, it seems. Impossible situations. Leaps of faith. Rolling with the punches.

There’s no way in hell he’s qualified for this, but if can do it… he will do it. He will do it. Just as he always has.

“This is… this is kind of forever, right?” He rasps into the darkness, listening to Todd’s breathing, the little shifts of his body where’s he’s settled next to him.

“...yes. I would serve you forever.”

“I won’t be penned in. I’m not living on your Hive. I get to go back to Earth sometimes and you can’t come with.”

“As I said before, your life will be much the same as it has always been. I have no interest in controlling your every move nor do I need you by my side every waking second.”

John startles a little when he feels the back of Todd’s fingers brush against his cheek. He doesn’t draw away though. In fact he drops his shoulder to make it easier for Todd to touch.

“Although you would always, always be welcome to make your home with me on my hive, if you so wished it.”

John shivers, a bright terrifying thrill of the alien-ness, the unchartered, unknowable adventure of such a prospect-

“Nice to have options.”

“It is.” Todd agrees, his fingers stroking in one last slow caress before he let’s his hand slip away from John’s cheek.

Finally the human turns to look at Todd.

He could spend hours, days, weeks sitting here thinking it through.

But he’s tired of avoiding all this.

He’s always been a man of action.

“I’m not making babies for you.” He wants to draw that line in the sand immediately, no mistakes to be made.

“If you do not wish to, I would not force you.” Todd hedges and John can read between the lines. He gives the wraith his flattest of glares.

“I’m not. I’m not doing it.”

Instead of argument Todd simply hums, shifting his weight to the side to bring their bodies into contact, eliminating what little space there is between them. John’s bare skin tingles as it makes contact with the smooth, cool bulk of Todd’s leg, his chest, his arm, his side.

“You accept my proposal then?”

John swallows. “Yes. Maybe. I- In general, sure, but you can’t just assume things, OK? I want you to ask and I want the right to say no and we take things slow.”

Todd turns at the waist, reaching up to cup John’s cheek and turn his head too. He puts them nose to nose and John feels stupid and little bit cross eyed as he tries to communicate his seriousness through a firm stare. Todd just let’s his own eyes shut, his nostrils and sensory pits flaring as he tilts his forehead to touch against John’s.

“And sex?”

“Same… same parameters.” John chokes out, his heart starting to thump fast again, blood circulating faster through his body, his skin prickling, toes curling. “But you can- if you want to, you can attend me. We can try this.”

John swallows and raises his hands - fingers only shaking slightly - to rest his arms around Todd’s torso, his palms settling cautiously over the wraith’s shoulder blades.

A low, pleased growl starts up in Todd’s chest, passing between them in all the places they connect. John shivers.

Todd’s hair is softer than it looks when it brushes over John’s burning cheeks. The alien’s lips are cool when Todd shifts so he can press a kiss to the human’s brow. His hands are gentle when they curl around John’s body finding a home at John’s waist, and cupping the nape of his neck- firm but undemanding, content simply to touch, to feel Sheppard’s warm flesh shift with each thump of his heart, each shaking breath.

“Never done this before.” John grunts, feeling embarrassed and turned on and needing to fill the silence with something.

Those soft white strands tickle his face as Todd pulls back just enough to make eye contact with John, his head tilting to the side, inquiring.

“Sex.” He grunts. “With a guy. All the way, I mean. I, uh, jacked it with a buddy in basic but that’s it.”

Todd blinks a few times, processing, then leans in closer, pressing his temple against John’s, grounding him.

“It is pleasant, I assure you.”

It’s not what John expects to hear and he can’t help but huff a startled laugh. His arms tighten their hold and he drops his head to rest it in the crook of Todd’s neck. “Ok.” He concedes, a warm bubble of humor making his chest feel lighter.

After a moment they separate again and John catches Todd’s pleased if somewhat puzzled expression.

John’s sure there are words behind those lips, ready to slip off that clever tongue. There’s so much more to say, so much more to negotiate, to explain, to understand - but John’s done talking for a while.

He’s always been a man of action.

“Do wraith kiss?”

Todd’s perplexion dissolves into an expression of warm hunger. “Carefully.”

“Great.” John grins, nerves thrumming as the wraith leans in again, this time aiming for his mouth. Just like that they make first contact, cool and warm flesh meet in a soft kiss.

It remains chaste for only a fleeting moment.

Foreign, fascinating flavors light up both their palettes when their mouths open enough for tongues to gingerly begin exploring, delving past teeth to tangle together. John’s breath promptly degrades into a harsh thing - precious oxygen stolen in the scant fractions of a second between hungry kisses.

It’s good. It’s weird and unknown and good.

Dizziness hits John and sets him to shivering. There’s a pitch in his guts like he’s just gone into free fall, a pounding in his heart.

Then Todd - he makes that sound. The one that John had almost convinced himself couldn’t possibly have been real. That low, rumbling, crawl from Todd’s throat.

A predator’s purr.

“Fuck, why is that hot.”. John pants as he pulls away. Todd’s hand slides from his neck down to his chest, resting over the center of it for just a moment before he moves to the side, cupping the human’s well defined pectoral muscle and squeezing. John chokes on the unexpected jolt of pleasure that sends through him. It triggers a tell tale twitch from his pants and he flushes.

From there its a bit of a scramble to kick of shoes and peel away socks, alien and Terran alike. John shifts to crawl up the bed, ignoring the weird deja-vu when he flops down against the pillows as he compares his position now to the one he was in yesterday, his feelings on these proceedings drastically changed.

Unlike yesterday Todd doesn’t seem to give a shit about his coat. Instead of carefully folding it he wrenches his arms out of the sleeves and tosses the thing away from the bed without watching where it lands, his torso already twisting, his legs dragging up on to the mattress so he can get to John, stalking until he’s hovering over him, staring down in an absolutely ravenous hunger that makes every instinct in John howl to run or submit or fight or fuck-

One of the hands Todd had braced on the bed lifts to insinuate itself between John’s head and the pillow. His hands are large - fuck, John remembers, he remembers those fucking fingers, big and confident and steady -

Todd cradles the back of John’s skull with a firm tenderness, his thumb pushing gently to guide John to tilt his head. Todd descends to put John’s mouth once again to use and the angle is much improved. Todd’s teeth are rendered less threatening, and the intensity of the wraith’s greedy licks and sucks into the human’s warm mouth intensifies.

A fresh shudder, a wanton moan, and John needs more.

If he’s giving up - if he’s giving in, if he’s owning this thing they have between them, then he wants- He needs more. More and harder and faster. He needs it now.

John’s hands flutter to life, releasing the front of Todd’s shirt to slip clumsily around the larger male’s waist. His touch slides needily down the alien’s spine before he starts scrabbling to yank the garment free from the waist of the wraith’s trousers, needing to explore, to feel. He needs skin contact and he needs it yesterday.

He’d hardly gotten to touch Todd six months ago. Sure, they’d been plastered back to front for hours, Todd’s fingers buried in his - buried inside him, but Todd - stupid, fucking, fussy Todd - he had kept his clothes on the whole goddamn time. The idiot had even come in his pants rather then- he never opened- never took out -

Fuck.

John’s been so good at lying to himself: pretending that he hasn’t been positively dying to get his hands on this man.

He wants to know. He wants to touch and feel.

The silky bio-polymer that makes up wraith clothing glides over Todd’s skin, never catching, flowing like ink as John forces it up, steals his hands inside.

Then he’s touching - finally, finally, finally - dragging his calloused hands over weird, wonderful alien skin.

God, his cock is so hard already - tenting his sweatpants lewdly, leaking and sticking messily to the fabric - and he’s only just touching Todd.

Fortunately he’s not alone in his rapidly mounting lust. One glance downward and John can see the prominent bulge in Todd’s pants, straining for freedom like his own.

God he wants it. He wants it so fucking bad. His insides feel hot and sensitive and he clenches unconsciously, moaning into Todd’s mouth at the unwitting punch of pleasure that results from the motion.

It sets his cheeks to flaming, sends a thrumming want up and down his spine.

He does it again and his body quakes, his hands still on Todd press down harder, firmer, dragging over his skin.

Arching over him Todd hisses, his lips separating from the human’s so he can grit his teeth in pleasure. Panting, John focuses for a moment on exploring the body perched over him- mapping the exotic hills and valleys that compose the male’s prominent spinal column.

“Shepard.” The alien manages to growl, voice gravelly, and John shudders, his fingers flexing so his nails add a bite to their hungry press.

With a snarl Todd hauls himself upright, forcing John to remove his hands from their covetous spots over the alien’s spine.

Fortunately there’s little enough time to complain. Todd makes short work of his shirt, ripping the thing over his head, further mussing his hair. The inelegant, feathery tangle of it is enough to take John’s breath away, remembering, remembering, remembering-

It’s not fair. This guy is so, he’s so-

John grits his teeth to keep from blurting out some limp, mortifying platitude.

Looming over him Todd just grins, toothy and proud and wanton. One long, muscled arm extends out to drop the shirt over the side of the bed. Hairless and pale, John knows he should find the man’s skin discomfiting.

He doesn’t.

It looks… it looks smooth. And cool. And luxurious. And so god damned pretty.

John croaks out a moan when Todd reaches out to lay one dangerous hand on the center of John’s naked chest.

For a moment they just stare at each other, shallow breaths catching in John’s lungs as he watches Todd’s pupils expand, dilating rapidly in lust.

And John knows. He knows what that does to a wraith’s vision.

He knows that Todd is seeing him now bathed in a blue-green shimmer. Shivering underneath him. Glowing in the dark.

He wonders if Todd thinks it’s pretty the same way that John does, or if it’s just mundane to him.

Slowly the alien’s raptor grin softens, smooths out to something that John would dare to call affectionate. Pleased, maybe - satisfied to have John like this, boxed in, trapped against the bed between Todd’s knees.

John shudders and lifts his hands, reaches out beseechingly to his bed mate.

Todd descends immediately to kiss his human once more, pressing down against John’s chest as he lowers himself, pinning the man, holding him fast.

While John immediately focuses on moaning into Todd’s mouth, the wraith sets himself to ridding themselves of the rest of their clothing. John shivers when sharp talons insinuate themselves between their bodies and start picking at the drawstring to his sweatpants. The harsh tugs probably mean the cord is just being shredded rather than untied but honestly John couldn’t care less when finally the knot gives way and his waistband is loosened enough for the alien to shove his hand inside, hungry for skin, hungry for John-

An embarrassingly loud noise bursts from his throat at the feel of that cool, confident hand wrapping around his hard length, expertly thumbing the head of his cock to gather the abundant moisture already weeping there, wetting his grip, giving John something smooth and generous to fuck into.

The feeding slit in the center of Todd’s hand should terrify him, should freeze his ardor in its tracks, but as he feels it kiss like a mouth against the shaft, feels it growing wet and drooly with excess enzyme, John’s balls just jerk and his cock gets harder.

“Fuck, Todd-“ he groans, turning away from the glut of wet, toothy kisses he’s being fed, needing to breath, needing to stop his head spinning.

“Do you want to come, John?” The wraith murmurs against John’s sweaty temple and the colonel bites his lip and fucking whimpers.

“I want-“ he starts to speak but his words falter when, with a last possessive squeeze, Todd releases his cock and pushes his hand down further, digging a knuckle against John’s perineum before his fingers stretch out - sticky-wet with precum and enzyme - to delve between the human’s cheeks, petting hungrily over John’s hole.

“Do you want me to fuck you? You seem to have been preoccupied with thoughts of our mating for some time now.”

John grunts and his muscles clench before relaxing, his cheeks and neck and chest hot with the heady rush of blood through his body, making him pink and warm and sensitive, all the more desperate to press against Todd’s smooth skin.

He can feel wetness gathering at the outside corners of his eyes, humiliating and salty hot.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck. He wants their pants off now.

He wants to touch Todd too.

Todd laughs and yanks his hand out of John’s pants, readily assisting in the divestment of the rest of their clothing.

Naked - both of them, finally - John is too distracted for a minute by more kissing and more hands wrapped tight around each other, to actually look at Todd’s body. Under his hands however a mental picture of the larger male starts to take shape.

His shoulder blades are sharp - sharper than a human’s. His vertebrae jut more proudly, stretching the skin and leaving sensitive little valleys between for John to play his fingers over, the hitched breaths and multi-tonal hisses clear enough sign of the inflamed nerve endings hidden there.

When he pushes his hands into Todd’s hair he feels how the thick, tangled strands grow in a long tapering cascade that trails much further down the neck than he would’ve expected, shortening and thinning down towards the shoulder blades into a velvety strip perfect to pet and to scratch and John wants to flip them around so he can nuzzle into it, get the smell of it, the taste of it-

Todd’s feeding hand rests low on his belly however, his fingers pushing down on John’s skin, reminiscent of last night’s ‘examination,’ but now devoid of even the most token pretense of professional restraint. The talons are carefully kept from breaking the skin but John still feels their pinch, feels a hunger in the weight of Todd’s palm.

He’s always been sensitive there - he’s always been a fan of petting and massaging and foreplay, enjoying the warm, aching want that builds and builds-

Now, though, now it feels like so much more, the new and strange parts of his body are full of fresh nerves, fresh needs, and John shivers, flexing his hips to push up and meet Todd’s touch.

“Good, John.” Todd croons, withdrawing far enough from the fierce possession he’s been keeping of John’s mouth to sing his praises.

John pants, letting his head sink into the pillow, giving his eyes a chance to roam the length of his partner’s body.

Todd’s chest is beautiful and strange. Devoid of nipples the smooth skin dips and pulls uninterrupted over miles of muscled flesh. Pectorals and abdominals and deltoids are all familiar in their placement and low over his ribs there are two dark, jagged tattoos similar to the design that circles Todd’s left eye.

What John is really drawn to, however, hangs between them, suspended from a simple black cord looped around Todd’s neck.

The damn pendant. Unassuming, unspectacular, a slip of pearly grey shell ringed in a dark silver metal.

John had thought Todd had gotten rid of it.

There’s a weird, heady rush of desire that tumbles through his chest when he sees that Todd has been wearing it all along, secreted away beneath his shirt, pressed to the vulnerable space along his sternum where the feeding spur bites.

John moans, shuddering, trying to focus on the rest of Todd’s body, to overwhelmed to think about that right now.

He turns his attention to the fact that Todd is devoid of body hair, but in a few places - beneath his collarbone, over his hips and in towards his groin - the skin looks different. Darker, mottled, more textured. Shaking his head, light headed and hungry for the simplicity of skin on skin John reaches to touch, throat tight and pulse racing at finally, finally getting to feel.

He plays over the features of Todd’s body, both familiar and strange. His fingers map over collarbone and chest,sternum and ribs, belly and hips before finally, finally, he dares to approach Todd’s beautiful, unfamiliar cock. The dark, textured skin at the base of it feels thicker, tougher, but still smooth and with some give to it. John plays with it for awhile, looking down between their bodies at the work of his hands as Todd freezes and holds himself still, harsh sharp pants escaping his slightly opened mouth as he let’s John explore.

Perhaps the textured skin feels nice but as John curiously starts to slip his fingers up onto the softer, slick skin of Todd’s shaft the wraith let’s out a sound that John can only call a growl, deep and feral with desire.

John’s own cock twitches, his balls tightening and for a moment he closes his eyes, teeth grit, shocked at the intensity of his own desire, needing a second to breathe, to step back, to calm down.

“More, John.” Todd rasps after another moment of stillness. John opens his eyes and looks way from the beautiful alien cock in is hand so he can look at Todd’s face again, cataloging the way Todd’s pupils are blown wide, his mouth slack in pleasure, his blue tongue just lifted like he’s tasting the air, tasting them-

Letting his hand start to move again John can’t look away from Todd’s face, awed and deeply, primally satisfied to know that this is his doing - he is making Todd look like this. His attention. His body. His touch.

Todd hisses when John’s thumb encounters a subtle ridge about a third of the way up the shaft. It’s solid, almost boney, but the skin is soft and smooth and still slippery, even when dry. The underside of Todd’s cock is the wettest, practically dripping, and John supposes wraith cocks must self-lubricate and if that isn’t he most convenient thing-

He grins, almost laughing, his breath coming in heated huffs as he continues to play, counting two more ridges - one half way up the shaft and the third, finest ridge just beneath the head.

OK, he thinks. OK. I can do this. Fuck, I want to do this.

He really, really does.

“We partially retract when not mating.” Todd explains when John’s hand returns to the base of his cock, his fingers tentatively poking at the wrinkles of soft, slick skin that fold over eachother there. The wraith’s voice is rough and he clearly struggling with restraint. “More so than humans, less so than our primitive Iratus ancestors.”

Below his cock are what John feels what he only assumes are testicles but instead of hanging pendulously like his own they are held much tighter to Todd’s body, more closely protected against his pelvis. For a moment John’s curious touch slips further back to tentatively explore the almost-familiar features, a shiver ricocheting up his spine when Todd hisses so loud it’s almost a screech. The wraith reaches down to wrap a hand harshly around John’s wrist. The human startles but Todd doesn’t force him away, instead he keeps his mate’s hand tight to him, grinding down into John’s warm fingers and palm, growling and panting, eyes wide and glittering in the dark.

A punch of lust lights up in John’s belly, forcing the breath right out of him.

“Feel good?” He croaks hoarse, dumb, and Todd growls before chuckling and releasing John’s wrist.

“Yes.” He hisses, unashamed and eager.

“I am ready to serve you, my John.” He rumbles in his melodic rasp, dropping his head to mouth hungrily at John’s neck, pointed tongue extending to lap at the salt of sweat. “I am well built and my seed is strong. Let me show you.”

“Fuck-“ John grunts, wild eyed, continuing to massage Todd’s balls while his free hand absently comes up to pinch at one of his own nipples sending sharp pinpricks of pleasure shooting through is chest. “No babies.” He chokes out.

Todd laughs, dropping down to nose John’s fingers away from his chest, replacing his touch with a wet tongue and the thrilling, delicate press of monster teeth.

“You will not be fertile until three or four weeks before your lay. No young will be conceived tonight.”

Arousal and anxiety and definitely not a hint of disappointment set John’s blood to racing and he shuts his eyes and focuses on breathing, fisting his free hand into his pillowcase with Todd now attending to his chest.

“Fuck.” He whispers, shuddering.

Todd hums against his nipple, flicking it a few times with his tongue playfully before shifting to the other one. His feeding hand reaches down again to squeeze John’s palm against his groin, wordlessly asking him to stay there, to give the wraith something to rut hungrily against, and who is John to deny him?

Generously John wrestles up the concentration needed to keep pleasuring Todd. His fingers pet teasingly over the sensitive features at the base of his cock and his thumb is free to massage the under-side of the Wraith’s shaft, coaxing more slick to come forth from whatever secret glands he has hidden there. His ministrations win him another shrill hiss of pleasure that lights John up with a ridiculous amount of lusty pride.

After a moment of enjoying his mate’s attentions and lazily tonguing at his chest, Todd’s eyes lose their vacant, blissed out quality and narrow back down on his partner, a terrifyingly sharp smile stretching his alien mouth wide.

He shifts gracefully to prop himself more fully over Sheppard, arranging the human fully on his back, reaching down to bend the man’s knees and spread his thighs. “Open.” He rumbles and John shivers, letting his legs fall apart and grant the alien a space in between.

Gently pulling John’s hand away from his cock Todd pushes the human’s arm up to join the other one already by John’s head. Deftly he grabs both wrists in one hand, pushing them into the pillow while John swallows and watches wide eyed. He’s expecting the inevitable roll of Todd’s hips bringing their cocks together, slippery and warm and fuck - He just couldn’t even begin to imagine it would be so vividly good.

Grinning his Cheshire grin Todd squeezes firm, grounding John before letting him go so he can reach down with his non-feeding hand and delve between the human’s cheeks, stroking over the sweaty, coarse hairs surrounding his hole. When one blunted talon catches on his rim and pulls, tugging him open, John shouts, his pelvis flexing, a not entirely unfamiliar feeling of wetness starting to form inside him.

“Fuck that’s weird.” He gasps, wondering if he should feel freaked. He’s getting wet for gods sakes - but he just can’t seem to make the panic happen.

As he watches Todd’s face he sees the wraith’s sensory pits flair, tasting the air, tasting the strange, unnatural slick his weird, mutant body is producing. John watches as those animalistic pupils expand until they’re nearly round with arousal.

“Beautiful.” He snarls and he plunges in, clawing a shout out of John when his two fingers bury deep, bullying past whatever meager resistance John’s body offers up.

It’s fast. The two of them careen through prep: John too inexperienced and hungry to know better, Todd too taken with the human’s pliant, wanton flesh to draw it out. The human’s virgin hole takes two, three fingers in quick succession - just enough ache to make it feel good.

Nothing like the burning stretch of an egg, the sharp, delirious sting of a shell slipping from the stubborn clench of his hole.

Just wet and needy and good.

“Let me in.” Todd begs, fingers buried deep, curled to put a steady pressure on John’s prostate, letting the human twist and writhe on the hook, grinding out his own pleasure.

“Yes, do it, do it-“ John whispers, breathless, gone.

God damn it. He wants this.

With a snarl Todd straightens his fingers and tugs them free, a slippery wet squelch accompanying the departure lighting up a fresh, furious blush over John’s cheeks and chest, his aching nipples pink and pert and flushed.

“For you, John.” Todd growls, shifting, gripping his own generous cock to steady it against John’s hole, and then he’s pressing in and John shakes and pants and chokes on a sob.

“Beautiful-” Todd’s voice dissolves into hissing wraith gibberish. Probably for the best because John feels like he’s in free fall, feels like he’s punched the accelerator with every obscene pop of one of Todd’s alien ridges pushing past his ring. He doesn’t know how much of Todd’s purple prose and sweet words he can take right now, he already feels like he’s one stroke of his cock away from coming completely undone.

Fuck, how is this so good? How is this so deliriously good?

“Perfect, absolutely perfect Colonel John Sheppard.” Todd growls, voice split between tones and so ragged it’s hard to decipher. “Such a healthy, beautiful body. So strong, so remarkable-“ As he bottoms out, he gives up and settles for just guttural sounds, so deep and low in his chest that his whole body vibrates and John can feel it resonating from every little place they’re touching.

Fuck grounded. He let’s go of his pillow and throws his arms up in a sudden impulsive burst, wrapping them around Todd’s neck, dragging the larger male down for a hungry kiss, an exchange of gasping growls and thin, reedy whines as Todd slowly pulls out. The ridges of his cock announce their passage by scraping along each and every one of John’s desperate, burning nerves, tugging meanly on John’s rim before finally popping free.

Then with a snarl Todd shoves himself back inside, starting up a furious rhythm that robs John of breath, leaves him shaking and gasping and clinging to Todd, wholly along for the ride.

Against Todd’s chest the pendant swings and strikes. Their bodies are making too much noise for John to hear it but he can see it thump, thump thump with each powerful movement the wraith makes. An unusual metronome keeping their time.

A particularly powerful thrust forces their combined slick from his hole he can feel it actually run down ass. Fuck - He’s so wickedly wet. He’s never gotten wet outside of his cycle before and he should find it appalling, but with every luscious, slippery drag of Todd’s cock in and out of his body he just feels… primal. Powerful.

“You want this. You want us” Todd declares, mouth next to John’s ear, his breath damp and close. The human grunts and gasps as the ridge beneath the crown of Todd’s cock bumps over his prostate, back and forth, spiking his need higher, higher-

With a snarl the wraith draws his head back, resisting John’s efforts to hold him close, forcing enough space between them that he can gaze down at his mate with starving, wild eyes. Each breath that leaves him is little more than a hiss. His hands shift to brace against the mattress on either side of John’s head and the colonel can hear the tell-tale rip of his sheets giving way to the man’s fists. Eyes gone black ringed in glittering gold, sharp teeth bared, Todd hisses. “You deserve to be fucked like this every night John Sheppard. You deserve to be bred. You should be pursued by the strongest, seduced and mounted by the best, always full of potent, virile seed.”

John grits his teeth around a cry, mortified and so turned on he hurts. He reaches down to grab his purpling cock, needing to come, pleasure riding up on him hard, but with worldless intonation of disapproval Todd blocks his reach, wrestles for his wrist, shoving it back up over John’s head, growling his warning.

“Please-” John sobs, desperate, not too proud to beg, not now.

Todd pants heavily in his face, dipping down to his neck to sniff and lick and to tenderly bite before he murmurs a gentle “Of course, John.” right against his skin. He reaches down and wraps his wet, fluttering feeding hand around his cock to start a rough, perfect rhythm of strokes and pulls.

Fuck if it’s not beautiful.

With a gusty shout John’s coming, his cock twitching, hole contracting, seed shooting in sharp, hot jets over his and Todd’s stomachs.

The wraith purrs low and dangerous, still wide eyed, unblinking as he studies John coming apart.

The human’s breath hitches, his shout decaying into little rhythmic moans and groans, each continued punch of Todd’s cock in and out of him urging up more pleasure, more seed, from John’s body.

“Todd-“ He gasps and the wraith fucking laughs, mad with delight, crashing forward to kiss his human, thrusts shortening to tight little rolls keeping him buried deep, deep, deep in his mate.

—

Hours later and the moon is full and high over the city, its shine dancing off the little waves the warm breeze is kicking up, throwing speckles of light and shadow over John’s ceiling.

There’s a recently emptied glass of cold water still sweating on his bedside table and a pleasantly cool wraith plastered to his back, his long powerful fingers dimpling the human’s skin with their possessive press.

John’s head feels like it's screwed on straight for the first time in days - maybe months. He feels satisfied and quiet. He feels calm.

Behind him Todd huffs in pure contentment, his pointed nose nuzzling the recently buzzed skin at the nape of John’s neck. The colonel wonders absently if he finds the naked skin there as weird and intriguing as he himself finds the velvet at the top of Todd’s spine - a curious feature he has yet to properly investigate.

Grunting he wiggles inelegantly and muscles himself over onto his other side, Todd graciously letting up on his snug grip to allow his bedmate to turn to face him.

When they’re nose to nose John can’t help huffing a little laugh, amused by the dopey look on Todd’s face… as well as the general absurdity of the situation.

He’s in bed with a soul sucking alien. A very male soul sucking alien.

Maybe he shouldn’t be surprised. The Pegasus galaxy seems to perversely delight in tumbling him into the most ludicrously unexpected scenarios.

This was probably inevitable.

Studying Todd’s baldly blissed out faced John realizes not for the first time just how expressive this wraith is. A lot of wraith John’s met can do smug, and hungry, and angry, and snobbish. Maybe it’s just that John hasn’t a whole lot of down time with other wraith, but Todd seems uniquely possessed to him, uniquely able to emote, to empathize, to let his thoughts and his feelings play out over his face.

He wonders if being expressive is a disadvantage in wraith culture, but considering they’re always mentally pinging off one another he can’t imagine it’s particularly easy to keep one’s feelings under wraps.

The need for complex body language is probably just unnecessary for most wraith.

John’s brow furrows slightly as he studies Todd’s half lidded eyes and soft (frankly, it’s still pretty smug) grin.

He wonders if Todd emotes like this with everyone, or if he just does it for John’s benefit. The man has probably spent more time with humans than most wraith, even if much of that time was unpleasant.

The post-orgasmic doofiness sobers a bit as Todd studies John back.

“Your mind grows troubled.” The wraith murmurs after another moment’s mutual consideration. “Speak and allow me to ease your thoughts or let them go, John. There is nothing to be troubled by tonight.”

The tension in John’s brow smooths out and he huffs, relaxing against his pillow and the arm Todd has tucked under his neck.

“Don’t read my mind.” He quips without heat, feeling a buzz of happiness and humor when he watches Todd’s eyes crinkle at the corners from his grin.

“I cannot read your mind, John. But when we are skin to skin there is nothing to be done for my ability to pick up on your feelings.”

John grins darkly. “The space sociopaths are also empaths. Wild.”

Todd’s grin fades but he doesn’t appear truly bothered. Instead he shrugs, reaching up with his feeding hand to pet over John’s jaw.

“Does it bother you? I would prefer there was nothing between us. When wraith partner there is an open exchange of not just pleasure and bodily fluids, but of thought and feeling.”

“More than your everyday psychic chit chat?”

Todd dips his chin once in a nod, his hair scraping against the cotton pillowcase. “Yes. Much more.”

“Hmm.” John hums, taking a moment to flex and stretch under the covers, cataloging the twinges and pleasant aches of exertion making themselves known throughout his body.

“Nah.” He sighs after a minute. “Don’t think that bothers me. Plenty of bigger fish to fry.”

He can feel the moment Todd tenses slightly in front of him, can tell when he’s decided John is not speaking literally and now he needs to try and parse out the actual meaning behind his words.

The colonel laughs.

Todd relaxes with a distinctly put-upon sigh but no further argument or request for clarification from his perplexing earthling mate.

For a few minutes they are quiet and still.

John stretches his fingers out and plucks at the pendant hung around Todd’s neck, now hanging askew and resting against the sheets between them.

“So.” He asks, taking up the token and buffing his thumb over the surface, noting the smooth, almost dusty feel of the shell. He’s never touched one dry before. It’s not unpleasant.

“What happens tomorrow?” He makes himself ask, the uncertainty eating at him.

Todd hums, unconcerned. “We will meet with Keller at the appointed time and we will speak with her and see about the effectiveness of the treatment on my scientist. He will feed and if all goes well, as I suspect, my men and I will return to the hive to further assess the results of the procedure.”

He says it all so calm, so matter of fact, that John can’t help but relax and nod in agreement. It sounds- fine. Reasonable. Normal.

It’s- it’s weird that it’s so normal. It feels like things should be different now.

John chafes his thumb over the bit of shell again, thinking deeply.

“It’s going to get complicated sooner or later, you know.” John sighs, making a fist around the shell fragment, irrefutable evidence of his point. Todd can dote and fuss and plot all he wants - things are going to only get harder with time. Forcing his eyes to focus John looks up to meet Todd’s gaze - serious but not worried. Just listening.

“If push comes to shove, you know where my loyalty will lie.” The human warns, disliking the sharp sour taste the truth leaves in his mouth, the soreness it brings to his throat when he tries to swallow.

“I will not ask you to make that choice, John Sheppard.” Todd insists softly. “Your loyalty to Atlantis is what will make this a partnership - a strong one.”

Pausing he shifts his hand to wrap his fingers around John’s fist holding the pendant, surrounding him with a cool, steady grip.

For a minute they just rest like that, John’s eyelids growing heavy with a desperate need for sleep, his gaze focused on their joined hands resting against the pillow.

“Thank you for hiding this.” He murmurs.

Todd startles him a bit with a raspy laugh, dragging John’s eyes back open to look up at the wraith, questioning.

Todd’s mirth calms and he looks at John with a fond, sharp toothed smile

“It took me some time to understand my mistake.” He explains ruefully. “In wraith culture it is a- it is a mark of honor. Wearing a token is a declaration of loyalty and commitment from a commander to their queen.

“Only after I was able to calm my distress over your complete refusal of my presence was I able to consider that you may not see it the same. I realized you might see it as proof of your… uniqueness. A proof that you would not want to publicly displayed.”

John swallows at this honesty, weirdly affected to hear that his reaction had distressed the wraith. “More or less, yeah.” He agrees quietly. He squeezes the pendant once more and then draws his hand away, tucking it back under his pillow.

“A reasonable perspective, considering your circumstances.” Todd affirms, calm, clearly having made his peace with it. He huffs another laugh, and his eyes shift away in an oddly human moment of self deprecation.

“I am not ashamed to confess that my eagerness to volunteer for Dr. Keller’s trial was due in part to my determination to reclaim your favor.”

John doesn’t laugh. The past few days he’s spent no small amount of time trying to put himself in Todd’s proverbial boots- tried to imagine himself on a hive being monitored by wraith scientists, mysterious solutions being forced into his veins at all hours of the day and night.

This isn’t a small thing that Todd has done, and he has done it for John.

“Guess it worked.” He manages to concede, his heart thumping heavily, emotions he has no precise name for making the organ feel big and awkward in his chest.

“Yes, to my great relief.” There’s both humor and honesty in Todd’s voice and it dawns on John that this… this feels even more intimate than the rigorous fornicating they’ve just wrapped up.

Todd is a riddle cloaked in mystery shrouded in enigma most of the time. He plays his cards close to his chest and he always has more than one back up plan churning away in the shadows. He’s clever and complex and so very, very ancient.

His honesty… it means something to John. It matters. John tasted it first in Todd’s despair in Kolya’s cells. He tasted it and without even realizing it he got hooked. He wants it. He wants.

Without pausing to think John reaches and grabs Todd’s feeding hand. He wraps his fingers around the back of his palm so he can rest his thumb against the mouth slit. For a few silent seconds he just pets along the edge of the maw, considering. He notices for the first time that the cut off from skin to soft, thin tissue is surprisingly sharp. There’s no gradual transition or easy fade from mundane to terrifying. Just a precipice in the palm of his hand.

Swallowing hard John looks up from his perusal to meet Todd’s eyes. Silently he pulls on Todd’s hand, tugging it to rest at the center of his chest.

While he watches he sees Todd’s eyes widen in surprise. He sees his sensory pits flare, hears his sharp intake of breath, sees the way his lips part to show his teeth, hungry, hungry, hungry-

John’s prepared to argue, to confirm his choice, to reassure Todd that he’s desperately curious - he wants to know what it’s like now. What’s changed. He wants.

It surprises him when Todd only croons “Oh sweet Sheppard, I will be gentle.” and with a low, pleased growl, he feeds.

”Easy.” He hushes as the spur strikes, punching through skin and muscle, finding blood and viscera a the very core of John, bringing with it a familiar but still deeply unpleasant pain, a stab so sharp and sudden and severe that it brings tears to John’s eyes, a shudder wracking his spine, a soft whine escaping his throat before he can reign it in.

It hurts.

Then as suddenly as the pain hits it is snuffed out, the rapid injection of Todd’s enzyme numbing the pain of penetration even as it begins its work of attacking John’s cells, breaking them to pieces, turning them into something that Todd can consume.

In spite of everything John is tensed, braced for the full body agony of the enzyme’s assault, his breathing tight and his knees partly curled up in an instinctive move to protect.

Only that pain never comes.

The unbidden panic that turned John momentarily deaf to reality falls back and he once again can register Todd’s gentle words. He can feel Todd’s free hand resting on his head, playing with his hair. He can sense the spur’s continued presence in his chest, can feel the way the wraith’s feeding organ drools and flexes and pulls at the wound hungrily.

All through his body the enzyme makes its presence known - an exotic warmth is tingling inside him, each finger, each joint, each valley and crevice filling up with it.

It’s not the heady, hot, overwhelming bliss of having energy forced into you by the wraith’s gift of life. Instead it’s a quiet, steady thing.

It doesn’t slice into John’s every nerve, ravaging him and pillaging his systems for compounds and chemicals John can’t even name. Instead it seeks out only what John has extra of, gathering what the human can easily spare.

It’s not bad, honestly, John muses as he lets his body relax, his head tilting slightly to press into Todd’s stroking fingers. It’s not great, but it’s really not bad.

And then it's over.

The way the spur retracts wetly from John’s body is... not very nice, honestly. It doesn’t hurt per say but John’s brain tells him it should hurt and that’s discomfiting. Even as the enzyme does it’s job and closes up the wound before more than a few drops of blood are allowed to escape, John knows the wound will still ache for a day or two. The skin will blacken with a bruise, his muscles will complain if he forgets and flexes the wrong way, but quicker than it should it will all fade away leaving only a small scar behind.

Blinking a few times to center himself John considers.

Raising a hand to his face he inspects it for wrinkles and age spots, honestly a bit impressed when he finds none.

The nerds did good.

“Not bad.” He affirms, voice a bit rough but overall steady. “Much improved.”

Next to him he can feel Todd relax and he chances a look at the alien’s face. He finds it marked with relief.

“John.” He rumbles lowly, savoring his mate’s name in his mouth. “Thank you.” His words come slow, deliberate, like a drunk man trying to play it cool and John can’t help the grin that stretches across his face.

“That good huh?”

“You are exquisite. I have craved another taste of you for so long.”

That shouldn’t be nice to hear. That should be terrifying.

John tries very hard not to feel chuffed.

“What a future we have, John Sheppard.” Todd sighs contentedly wrapping his arm around the human and drawing him close. He rests his feeding hand along John’s spine in between his shoulder blades. If John concentrates he can just distinguish the gape of the organ pressed against his back - He can feel it flex minutely, mouthing at his skin.

He’s not afraid.

Too tired to reflect on it further tonight, John closes his eyes, wrapping his own arm around Todd’s waist, and lets himself drift off to sleep.

—

At 9:32 the next morning Nurse Nick Vale volunteers to be a light breakfast for wraith Sam. John still winces as he watches the proceedings unfold but the gut churning sense of wrongness doesn’t manifest the way it had with Professor Shino.

Nick’s assessment afterwards is more or less the same as John’s. ‘Not great but not bad. Totally doable.’ Observations which Keller writes down diligently, wholly focused on the groundbreaking science of the moment.

The wraith scientist takes a moment to stare at his own hand, a minute look of surprise on his face, as if he didn’t really expect this to work despite the evidence he’s already seen to the contrary. After a moment he picks his head up and makes eye contact with his commander, apparently exchanging a non verbal word or two about the experience.

“Thank you.” The alien mutters after a moment, casting an awkward glance at Nick who gives him an equally awkward thumbs up and chipper ‘No prob, man.’

John likes Nurse Nick.

There’s a few more minutes of observation and discussion but quickly the whole party, wraith and human alike, find themselves in Atlantis’ main conference room, joined by Mr. Woolsley as they discuss next steps.

It’s early days yet but the sense of excitement in the room is palpable. After so many false starts and dashed hopes over the years the fact that they’re genuinely now on the cusp of resolving the core issue of human/wraith conflict is a heady thing.

When Todd declares that he and his retinue will return to their hive to conduct further analysis and observation Keller makes a noise of protest but in the end doesn’t fight him on it, knowing she won’t win that argument.

“If all proceeds well over the next three weeks I will return with the rest of my commanders to receive treatment. Our drones can be treated on the hive later once we have developed a process for producing and administering the serum en masse.”

Todd speaks like it’s the only logical way forward and their acquiescence is a foregone conclusion. To be honest, it’s not like anyone has reason to object to his suggestion.

“If we proceed with your plan I would like to have a liaison working closely with your hive to keep us updated on progress. We have a vested interest in seeing this roll out smoothly, as you understand.” Woolsley does a nice little diplomatic dance around the phrase ‘I still don’t trust you.’

His eyes widen a bit when instead of a haughty denial Todd favors him with a wolffish grin.

“Agreed.” He hums, and John watches a little shiver run collectively down a few spines.

“Well, I have several candidates in-“

“We will accept none other than Colonel John Sheppard in this role as ambassador.”

“John?” Woolsley sounds surprised in a way that John thinks he should maybe find insulting.

“Well, I understand that the colonel was pivotal in forging a relationship between-“

“Mr. Woolsley.” Todd interrupts smoothly. “I will only say this once more: We will accept none other than Colonel John Sheppard as ambassador.”

A moment of pregnant silence stretches out.

Then Woolsley coughs into his fist, gives a little shake of his head. “You present a compelling argument.” He mutters dryly, replacing his hands flat on the table in front of him.

“Colonel Sheppard, would you be amenable to taking on new duties as a liaison officer between the city of Atlantis and Commander Todd’s hive?”

The collective attention of the room pivots to John and for half a second he freezes.

He thought he’d have a bit more time after last night’s pillow talk to wrap his head around this whole ‘ambassador’ thing. Leave it to Todd to toss him into the deep end.

Shifting a bit uncomfortably in his seat John’s body twinges in very intimate places, his skin feels sensitive, his muscles well used. He hopes the others ascribe the flush that blooms over his cheekbones to embarrassment over being singled out and not- well.

“Uh,” He stalls, even though he already knows he’s going to agree. He said he would, and he’s a man of his word. Todd shoots him a look that is very obviously amused and what John wouldn’t pay to give him his honest opinion on this power play right now.

“Sure.” He sighs, lamely, and Woolsley nods slowly, wrapping his head around this turn of events.”

“Well I suppose that settles that.”

They take a few more minutes to negotiate although really it just seems like they’re all taking the time to wrap their heads fully around the enormity of this thing that they’re doing. They’ve all known that this is a big deal but damn, now it’s real.

The whole galaxy is going to change.

Then the meeting is over. The wraith rise to return to the darts parked on pier D. Jennifer reiterates one last time that she’d like to be contacted immediately if any complications or concerns arise. She order them to take notes of everything, insists that they update her at least once a week-

Todd’s primary scientist looks a bit overwhelmed by her energy and John watches as he practically hides behind his commander, trying to distance himself from her scientific fervor.

“Until next time, Colonel John Sheppard.” Todd croons, his multi tonal voice low and teasing and John gives him a half heartedly glare, grateful that they’ve always been known for a bit of taunting- otherwise the flirting would be humiliatingly obvious.

“See you soon.” He grumbles, fighting back a stubborn flush, a pleasant twinge in his belly egging him on.

They’d said their more meaningful farewells before Todd snuck out of John’s quarters this morning. John knows Todd will call for him in a week, just to speak. Just so they can see how the other is doing.

It’s… it’s sappy is what it is, but now that John is facing this thing head on he’s okay with it.

He’s looking forward to it.

Again his stomach twinges and he swallows, pivoting on his heel to start them all moving towards D pier. Todd falls into step just half a pace behind his right shoulder, a steady looming presence at his back. Together they lead the way through the city, heads held high, full of purpose and bright, vivid, expectant energy.

——

It’s about an hours flight at top speeds to get from Atlantis to the hive ship stationed just out of range of Atlantis’ long range weapons.

Just in case.

The two person dart seats Todd at the controls and his primary as copilot. The pair of them launch and breaking out of Atlantis’ atmosphere in contemplative silence. An ease settles on both of them as they pierce through to the quiet vastness of space, the shift to zero gravity noticeable even if the ship still generates its own artificial forces to keep them secure in the cockpit.

As the blip of the approaching hive grows steadily larger on their sensors Todd’s scientist sends him a gentle mental query, tentative and differential. The commander responds with calm acceptance, open to answering questions.

//Your efforts with the human went well?// he tries to prod politely and winces a bit when he receives an answering ping of wry amusement over his blunt inquiry.

//Yes. We have found an understanding.// Todd answers simply. He keeps images of their coupling private, knowing that John has more reserved feelings on such matters than a wraith and desiring to keep his confidence. However he does let a few flickers of memory transfer - anger transforming to understanding, anxiety to relief, uncertainty to confidence. Every thread is interwoven with notions of complexity and experimentation, an acknowledgement that nothing is yet set in stone, only confirming that a path forward has been chartered.

//It will be different.// Todd warns. There is no real concern in this statement, just a simple declaration of fact. //Unlike anything you have ever experienced before, young one. Unlike anything any wraith has ever known.//

The scientist pings back a note of understanding, a bit irked when Todd receives his message with an amusement that leans towards patronizing.

The scientist is not stupid, nor was he hatched yesterday. He, more than most wraith, knows how much richness, how much value, and how much pain welcoming humans into a hive can bring. Not as slaves, but as companions, as cherished, perhaps even occasionally as equals.

He wants that again. It will be strange and bring new hurts, new pitfalls, new challenges to their collective, but it will be worth it. He knows this. He remembers this.

He idly tosses an impression of this at his commander, barely underscoring it with a note of respect for his superior and Todd has the gall to actually laugh out loud but he does not reprimand him.

Sighing the scientist -they called him Sam. Should he own that moniker? It will certainly help facilitate communication in the future if he gives the humans something to call him since they are all thought deaf. But the queenhuman - Colonel Sheppard - he had laughed so perhaps it is an insulting name. But did the Atlantians themselves not have a leader once named Samantha? Past reports indicated she was sometimes referred to by the syllable ‘Sam.’ Is it perhaps that he’s been given a female name? If they think to mock him by misgendering him then they are fools. It would be an honor to hold the same title as a former queen- settles back against his seat and allows himself a moment to rest. His body is still somewhat fatigued after the genetic work and he was reluctant to feed too heavily from the healer - Nock? Neck? What had they called him again? - lest the therapy prove less than effective and he do the man damage.

Still, he feels content. Satisfied. Hopeful. He keeps his guard down, letting Todd pick up these feelings on his periphery, matching the scientist’s quiet optimism with his own.

It is a weird and unknown landscape that unfolds before them. There will be mistakes. There will be disappointments. The Sheppard will be unlikely to brood for them, he will not command them, he will not lead them the way that wraith expect from a queen.

And yet he knows there there will be health and growth, new kin, new purpose. There will be birth. There will be joy.

Yes. He is optimistic.

It will be good to bring a new queen home.