Where Do My Bluebirds Fly

by Kitchyy

John/Cameron, NC-17 - Dr. John Sheppard finds out his old flame, one Colonel Cameron Mitchell is coming to the SGC. Can he balance his working career with all the memories that get dragged up from his past?

This is a totally AU slash fic and it's an explicit BDSM fic too. If that's not your thing I'd recommend hitting the back button.

This is written for the SGA Reversebang. Kazbaby created the fantastic pic that inspired all this, so you need to go look at it here (just be sure to remove the spaces)

archiveofourown works/ 854318

a great big round of applause for my lovely beta mific.

Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. Title comes from the song Where Do My Bluebirds Fly by The Tallest Man on Earth

---

John's eyes are turning into perfect spheres of sand. It's the only way he has to describe the feeling when he presses his thumb and forefinger to his eyes. He rubs his hand over his face then through his hair, hoping the stimulation will bring the eureka moment he's been working so hard for.

The calculations on the white-board swim into view again and he can feel that magical moment swirling down the drain. He sighs and looks despondently into the depths of the empty coffee cup sitting on the desk beside him. Maybe once he gets these Ancient calculations on the drones from Antarctica figured out he can start working on the world's first self-refilling coffee cups.

He'd make billions. He could hear the cheering crowds now; he'd be the savior of scientists everywhere. John shakes his head. Ugh, maybe his eyes aren't the only thing turning to sand.

A familiar silver haired head pokes into his office. "You're still here?" General O'Neill asks, which is a moot question since yes, he is standing right here in his office.

"Looks like it," John says neutrally.

The General shakes his head. "You're just as bad as Daniel," he grumbles. John decides to skip replying that since O'Neill took over command of the SGC he practically lives here. "When was the last time you slept, Doc?"

Ah, a more reasonable question. John can't remember so he shrugs, picks up his empty coffee cup and does a poor approximation of a salute. "Didn't you know that as long as there's coffee, scientists don't need sleep?"

O'Neill sees through the facade and shrewdly narrows his eyes. "Sheppard, the numbers aren't going anywhere. I want you out of your office. I don't want to hear about you coming back to this room until at least eight hours have passed." With that he leaves and walks down the hall. John can hear him whistling a happy tune as he goes.

John's not part of the military, but he knows how to follow an order. Besides, the General is right; if he hasn't had a breakthrough yet, staring at the white-board for another hour won't conjure his answers.

He heads to the mess in the hopes of food. It's only-John checks his watch- 2:37am, and the commissary guys are pretty good about keeping the food coming even in the dead of night. The place is almost deserted - a few people here and there are eating and talking in subdued voices but the mess-staff is still here and so is the food. He grabs some Irish stew, a salad and after a quick check to see that Rodney isn't around, the lemon jell-o dessert.

John's just about to sit at an empty table when Sam waves him over to join her and Dr. Jackson. Turns out he isn't almost as bad as Daniel, he's worse.

"I thought you'd gone home," Sam asks by way of greeting. She holds a steaming mug of coffee between her hands.

"I was working on the calculations the Antarctica team brought back on those drones," John replies as he sits and digs into his food.

Daniel perks up. "Find anything interesting?"

"Yeah, that the math is complicated," John jokes with a smile.

"You know, if you like I can take a look at them. The calculations might go faster with a second set of eyes." Sam offers.

It would be fantastic to get Sam's help on this one, but she has her plate full running SG-1 and doing R&D work on the side for Area 51 at the same time. "Nah, that's okay." He can see Sam is about to argue the point so he goes for the good old subject change. "What are you two doing here so late, anyways?"

"We just got back from visiting Teal'c at Dakara. He's doing what he can to help set up the political structure of the Free Jaffa." Daniel comments. Free Jaffa, it kind of rolls off the tongue. It's more than long past time.

Sam takes a sip of her coffee. "We were thinking about going home, but it's just past three now so we might as well stay and greet the new SG-1 leader when he comes in."

John's heard rumors of this and he isn't sure how he feels about it yet. SG-1 is the stuff of legend. Changing the team dynamic too much might be the straw that breaks the camel's back, and no one wants to see that. The team has been an inspiration to the entire SGC. Besides, from what he's heard, Sam's done a good job leading the team so far. "Don't see any reason you can't stay the leader," John mutters, and reaches for his salad.

Sam looks down and he'd bet money it's not the laminate table top that she sees. "I want to devote more of my time to different projects. I can't do that while running SG-1 at the same time. Besides, I think Colonel Cameron Mitchell will be a good addition to-hey, John, you okay?"

John snaps his mouth shut and hastily picks up the fork he dropped. It couldn't be him. No way, no how. "Sorry, just had a blank moment there."

Daniel's sharp eyes are also the stuff of legend, but for very different reasons. He doesn't look like he's buying it. "He did a lot of top-notch flying in Afghanistan; eventually they pulled him in to be the head of the F-302 pilots. Now that he's got full clearance, Jack thinks it'd be good for him to learn the ropes here."

Daniel's watching him like a hawk and John doesn't know if his face is the blank mask he needs. It couldn't possibly be him, but John has followed his career and he's pretty sure there aren't any other Cameron Mitchells that led the F-302 Wing.

Sam finally catches on and peers at him. "Do you know him?"

John suddenly finds a fascinating interest in his salad. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I do."

THEN

"Here ya go, sir," The bartender says. John nods his thanks and slides back into his seat at an inconspicuous table near the back of the bar. Heavy, loud music with a bass beat that throbs through his chest cavity plays loudly through the speakers, and the lights are just bright enough to see the clothing adorning the other bar patrons.

He loves this place, he really does. It's a little over an hour outside the Academy base, and so low-key only people interested in the scene come here. John recognizes many of the patrons from his previous visits, but he keeps those visits sparse enough so no one really recognizes him in turn. Just the way he likes it.

His eyes flick restlessly over the crowds of people. John isn't sure if he wants the company of a sub yet or not. There are a few pretty faces that catch his eye here and there, but no one really stands out. It's possible he'll just stay for a drink or two and head back out; he's done it before, so it's no biggie if he does it again. It's just nice to be in a place where he isn't considered strange for liking the things he likes.

John is on his second beer, his limit for nights like these. He needs to keep a level head. He drove here and he really doesn't want to have to cab it back and get the car tomorrow. The chance that one of his friends might see his car and start asking questions isn't a risk he wants to take. A sweet girl in a black shiny tube dress smiles at him and he nods back. She looks like she'd be fun for the evening, but the chemistry doesn't pop with her.

John's been here for a few hours and he's almost made up his mind to go, but then hewalks in. John's never seen the guy here before, and he's good with faces so he'd know. Although the guy does look a little familiar, which bugs John. It doesn't bug him for long, however, because-damn.

He's in his twenties, maybe a few years younger than John. John knows immediately he's a sub from the thin leather collar around his neck. his hair is done up in messy light brown spikes that make him look cute and not dangerous. His thin black tank shows off well formed pecs and a flat, defined stomach, but the pants. Goddamn. They're tight leather, slung so low on his hips John can see a strip of skin, a hint of hip bones, and he's sure if he got a little closer to inspect the goods on display he'd be able to see that pretty little vein that some guys have, sliding from his lower belly into those pants. The sides are laced tie-ups with another strip of exposed skin on both sides almost two inches wide, and John can see what the young man isn't wearing under them.

Fuck. John doesn't usually take a second look at male subs, but the more he looks, the more he likes what he sees. Maybe he'll have some fun tonight after all, even if it's only a nice eyeful. John watches Mr. Pretty for a while to see what he does and what he might be into. He turns down a few invitations, one by a woman and one by a man, and when the third makes a fuss over his rejection, John decides enough is enough and steps in.

"Hey, buddy, no means no," John says to a forty-something man who looks like he should frequent a leather daddy club instead.

The man sneers at him. "This is a private conversation, fuck off."

"My sentiments exactly," Mr. Pretty says to the man, and John can detect a sweet southern drawl. "Fuck off."

This place has pretty strict rules - if the leather daddy so much as touches someone without permission he gets a boot into the street and he can't come back for a month. If it happens a second time he gets permanently barred from the club. John almost hopes that he tries to pull something so he can get rid of the jerk.

But leather-daddy gets the hint and shakes his head. "It's a real pity. You'd look good all tied up." He knocks back his tumbler half full of golden liquid, snaps the empty glass on the bar and leaves.

"Yeah, I'd probably end up in your basement. No thanks," Mr. Pretty mutters just out of the larger man's earshot, and John chuckles. Now that he's closer he can see how very blue and expressive the guy's eyes are, and those full lips would look fantastic wrapped around his cock. "Thanks, I guess."

"No problem," John drawls and holds out his hand. "I'm John."

The guy has a warm, firm handshake. "Cam. Didn't think a lot of people my age knew about this place much."

"They don't unless they know what they're looking for," John offers, with a hint of a knowing smile. Cam is starting to relax again, which makes John relax a little, too. John's only wearing a pair of black jeans and a tight, white button-down under a leather jacket. He's been mistaken for a sub before, so he stands at the very edge of Cam's personal space, pushing that boundary and looking at Cam's collar possessively so he gets the hint.

Cam blushes and dips his head, then looks gently up from under his lashes with the barest hint of a smile. It makes John melt - talk about adorable. "And what is it you're looking for?"

John leans into Cam a bit more so he can feel the heat of his skin and murmurs into his ear, "Someone to keep me company, and maybe, if that works out, some play,"

Cam looks at him for a long time, like he's trying to decipher what kind of man John is. Finally he smiles, and those baby blues go rich with invitation. "Well, pull up a seat. Nobody likes being lonely."

"Thanks." John sits on the bar stool next to Cam. "How did you find out about this place?"

Cam takes a pull from his beer. "Same way most people do: vaguely worded ads on coffee shop bulletin boards. Punk record stores. You?"

John found out from the last girl he dated - it was one of her more favored places to go, and John is all for showing his subs off. "An old friend," he says vaguely.

Cam nods, he seems to understand. "Sounds like a good friend."

"Yeah. Taught me a lot of things," John says. Jesus, he can't stop looking at those lips.

Cam's brows go up and he gets a curious, interested look. "What kinds of things?"

Everything. She taught me everything. John lets his smile come out from hiding. "Things like knots and toys, and how to play for hours without stopping. How to tell if my... Friend is enjoying themselves or not, how to listen for specific words. You know, important things like that."

Cam's eyes go dark, and his tongue swipes over his bottom lip so it glistens. "And this friend of yours...?"

"More of a past tense. I could be in the market for a new one though."

Cam's smile is just this side of wicked, and John can tell he's staring at his mouth. They're getting closer, so close John can feel his shaky exhale. "And I take it you're interested in making friends with me?"

John tips his head to the side and slides his hand over Cam's arm, to see if his invitation includes touching. Lucky for him, there's no pulling away. "I think I could make an exception for you. You know, just this once." John smiles.

Cam chuckles, and when he tilts his head John can't help himself. He cups Cam's jaw, holds him still and gives into temptation. Cam's lips are firm and smooth, wide and inviting. They keep their eyes open through the kiss and John meets his stare. He licks over those lips, silently asking for entry.

When the kiss deepens and John licks into that sweet mouth, Cam's eyes finally close. His skin would look good with John's marks on it. He wants to do oh, so many things, starting with pulling those pants' strings loose.

John ends the kiss, because if he doesn't do it now he's worried he won't stop. "You wanna get out of here and get better acquainted?"

Cam hesitates and bites his bottom lip. "I have a few conditions."

John nods. He was expecting that. "Like?"

"No cuffs and nothing sharp. Don't call me names and no bathroom stuff either, it's gross. I play with a safe word, but I don't like people pushing my boundaries until I have to use it like some people."

All good rules for first time play in John's book. "And your safe word?"

"Jezebel," Cam says with a quirk of his lips.

"I can work with that," John agrees. "So, you wanna get out of here?"

Cam nods, and John gives himself a mental high-five.

There's a hotel down the street, and as John pays the bar bill, Cam whispers something about being right back, disappears and a few minutes later shows back up with a jacket and duffel. They walk to the hotel where John pays cash for a room while Cam waits outside. His jacket is long enough that it hides most of his clothes and the wonderfully sinful pants.

"You got the keys?" Cam asks when John comes back out. He holds up a silver key with the number 409 in tiny silver scrawl across it. Cam takes the key from his fingers with an impish grin and races up the stairs. "Last one there loses!"

One thing's for sure, John doesn't like to lose, so he chases Cam up the stairs and down the hall. He catches up to Cam just as he's unlocking the door and pushes them both through, then hauls Cam up against the nearest wall and kisses him the way John's wanted to all night: with teeth and tongue and his hands braced on the wall at either side of Cam's head.

Cam's jacket hits the floor and he kisses John back, and oh, yeah, that's how it should be.

"Holy shit, Cam," John murmurs and works his own jacket off, throwing it somewhere and going back in for more of that mouth. "I like your pants, but I want to see all of you," John says in a rush. With great effort he backs up and puts Cam's hands on the laces. "Take them off for me."

"And if I don't?" Cam asks with a smart ass grin as he toes off his shoes.

John keeps his face a serious mask and makes a show of pulling off his belt, folding it in half and then snapping it. "I have no problem with spanking you."

"Yes, sir." Cam doesn't take his eyes from the belt and starts yanking at the laces. He says sir like he means it, and John likes the way it rolls off his tongue. And yeah, he is completely bare under those pants. John's mouth goes dry at all that skin. His cock is thick and long and John wraps a greedy hand around it just to feel the weight and thickness. "Shirt off too, Cam. Don't make me ask twice."

Cam's cock twitches and gets harder in his hand, a firm, good weight that John hasn't felt in a long time. With dark, lust-filled eyes John watches the shirt come off too. Cam's gloriously naked except for that collar and John takes his time drinking his fill. Cam's tan almost everywhere, all golden skin and hard muscle - only from mid-thigh to waist is he pale. There's a vulnerability there, like John is seeing a part of Cam he doesn't show to anyone else and John likes that he's the one seeing it. John starts to slowly stroke him, and Cam's mouth drops open in a silent oh and he grabs uselessly at John's forearm.

John honestly isn't much into guys. Sure, he's had a few romps in the hay with other men, but it's always been more about release and not so much about fun. He's never played with another guy like this, and John realizes with a noticeable lack of surprise or trepidation that he wants to take his time with Cam. He strokes slow and hard, then comes in slowly and kisses him again, all teeth and heat and possession.

John never understood until recently just how freeing and what a turn on it was to take control like this. Cam is so responsive too; he gives in beautifully. To silently give his thanks, John's hands roam over smooth warm skin, lingering over the sweet spots. Cam's got well-defined muscles but his skin is still wonderfully soft, and when John tweaks a pink nipple he moans and arches his back, seeking more contact. "Harder," he breathes, and that's just, Jesus, that's hot.

"It's the last thing I'm going to do to you before sending you to your knees so you can suck my cock," John murmurs conversationally.

Cam's eyes go wide and he sucks in air through clenched teeth. "Fuck..."

John kisses him again. "Damn, your mouth is beautiful," John murmurs over those lips. Cam's bottom lip is plump enough to nibble, and he tastes amazing. "Now, I want you on your knees."

Cam blushes and John is a little surprised. Maybe it's not the orders but the praise that gets him going? Well, a little positive reinforcement never hurt anyone, so when Cam's knees touch the floor he runs his fingers through dirty blond hair. "I like you there, you look good. Now, undo my pants and pull my cock out," John orders.

Cam's blush brightens further and he opens John's pants. He looks so sweet like this - his face has a boyish innocence that makes it feel like a crime to defile it with his cock. Somehow that makes it hotter.

"Hands behind your back, Cam," John says after his pants are open. "I want to see you work for this."

The blush is fading, but Cam still has color high on his cheeks. He stares up at John for a few seconds like he's stunned, and then slowly he puts his hands behind his back, opens his mouth and waits.

John wonders if Cam knows how enticing he looks, right there on his knees waiting for John's cock to fill his mouth. If he knows how it makes him hard and wanting just from looking down at that pretty face. John feeds Cam his cock slowly, rubbing the head on the textured palate of the roof of his mouth, then down to the hot softness of his tongue. He tries not to let his eyes close in bliss as Cam moans, closes his mouth and hollows his cheeks as he sucks John down.

Cam looks like he was made for sucking cock, all adoring eyes under long lashes, quiet moans and a gloriously wet mouth. Cam gives one more long, hungry look and starts up a slow and steady bob. John hasn't seen someone give in like Cam. He simply lets go, trusting that John will be there. It's a powerful feeling, and a little humbling too.

John slides his cock out of Cam's mouth with a wet pop. Cam leans to follow after it, with the barest whine. "You like it when I use your mouth, Cam?" John asks, pleased and turned on. Cam looks up, his mouth still open, and nods. Would he look so blissed out from other things? John doesn't know, but there's only one way to find out. He traces the head of his cock over Cam's lush bottom lip. "And if I used your ass? Would you like that too?"

Cam hesitates, and John can see indecision cross his features. John can be patient when he needs to, so he keeps sliding his cock over that mouth in a slow rhythm, hoping that Cam will be willing.

Finally Cam looks up and John can see he's made his decision. Cam nudges his chin forward, and caresses the side of John's cock with his cheek. "Yes, sir, I would," he says in a quiet whisper, and oh yes, that's doing wonderful things to John's cock right now.

"Good." John pats his head, then strips off his clothes and lies on his back on the bed. The off-white hotel sheets itch his back and they smell of cheap laundry detergent but the mattress itself is soft. It will do for what he has in mind. "Front left jacket pocket, there's lube and condoms. Bring them over, then straddle me, kneeling, hands behind your back again."

Cam gets to his feet, fumbles for the lube and condoms, drops them on the bed by John's shoulder and then climbs on top of him, hands behind his back and head down. He is submission personified and John tries to sear this image in his mind forever.

John pulls him closer so he can get a better look at Cam's cock, then grabs the lube and starts to slick his fingers. "First I'm going to suck you, then I'm going to fuck you. I don't want you to come until I tell you to."

Cam nods, and John traces the tight puckered skin of his hole. It's soft and tight there, and very warm. John's thoughts are filled with how fantastic it'll feel when he sinks into that perfect ass. His patience is wearing thin, so when John slips a finger inside Cam he sucks down the head of Cam's cock at the same time to give his mind something else to focus on.

Cam's hot and hard inside John's mouth, salty and bitter and so satisfying that John moans around him. Cam hisses and tips to the side a bit so John has to grab him to make sure he doesn't fall over. "You like that?" John asks as he pulls off Cam's cock.

Cam chuckles. "Hell yeah." He's beginning to sweat and Cam's voice shakes. John smiles, slowly and evil. He wants to see more of Cam coming undone so he sucks Cam's cock in again as he slides a second finger into tight molten heat. Cam's eyes roll up and his mouth drops open on a silent moan.

John pumps him nice and steady. When his fingers slide in he takes Cam's cock in deep and when John looks up from his ministrations he finds Cam's belly is sheened with sweat and his eyes are scrunched closed, breathing careful and controlled. John can't stop watching him, the slow rise and fall of his chest, the way the low light catches the gleam of sweat on his belly, the flush in his cheeks and how his shoulder muscles bunch. It's startling in its beauty. He really is a rare specimen, and as John slides a third finger into Cam, he realizes he wants more of this. He wants to see Cam obeying his every word, over and over again.

Once isn't going to be nearly enough.

He slides his fingers from Cam's hole and manhandles him back down so he's positioned over John's cock. "I'm gonna fuck you now," John promises as he tears open a condom and rolls it on with the barest tremble in his hands. This is crazy - his hands never shake. He prides himself on his steady hands. He takes a few slow breaths, tries to find a peaceful spot somewhere in his head, and only when the trembling stops does he continue.

John slathers a bit more lube on his cock, and then takes Cam's hip in one hand and holds his cock just so. "Yeah..." Cam breathes.

"Slide down, but go slow. I want to watch your face," John murmurs. His voice is getting lower, needier, and his heart is pounding. Cam inches down, and oh fuck, this is nothing like how John had imagined it. John pushes into tight, hot, slick, smooth Cam, right to the root in one exquisitely slow slide. Cam's face is unguarded and open, eyes sightless and staring. Both of them grunt as Cam gets fully seated. He looks like he's about to fall over so John takes his hands and places them on his own shoulders. "Good, now fuck me."

Cam is staring at him, wide-eyed and desperate. With a hiss he starts to move, a slow, steady pace as John touches every inch of skin he can reach. He starts to play with Cam's nipples again until Cam whimpers and picks up the pace.

"That's it, fuck me," John mutters, then pulls Cam down into a searing kiss.

"Yeah, Oh..." Cam says, breathless. John agrees wholeheartedly. He likes watching Cam fuck himself on his cock, but he wants more, wants that glorious body under him.

"Brace yourself," John growls. Cam's eyes are glassy and filled with pleasure, and when John flips them, Cam cries out, a tiny, overwhelmed whine before he wraps his legs around John's waist. John picks up the pace after that, fucking Cam hard and fast. The slap of skin on skin as he sinks over in and over again fill his ears, and it's perfect.

John raises up a little and takes Cam's wrists in one of his hands, holding them just above Cam's head to test the waters. Cam fights it, but not enough to get free, and that says a whole hell of a lot right there. Turns out that Cam likes it, a lot. He likes trusting John when John's balls deep inside him, and he's blown away by that trust.

John fucks in harder and with the new angle Cam reacts almost violently. His head snaps back, his eyes burning right into the shabby headboard and his arms siezing up, rock hard. "Shit-right there!" he cries out, strangled and high, meeting each of John's thrusts with an intensity bordering on anger.

It drives John crazy. This man meets John step for step in everything he throws at him. He attacks Cam's neck and shoulders, kissing and biting any piece of skin he can reach until he's sucked an angry red mark on the ball of Cam's shoulder.

"God, I'm close. Sir, so close. Tell me. Ask me, please," Cam begs. The last of John's restraint is fraying and fast. His free hand wraps around Cam's cock and squeezes. John's fucking him hard enough that Cam's cock gets pushed through the tunnel of John's hand.

"Come! Now!" John orders. He's seconds away, himself...

Cam gives a wordless groan that's so deep John can feel it in his dick, then clenches like a vice around John's cock as he comes.

That's it. John shoves his cock all the way to the hilt and freezes as he comes. The world fades until this is all there is - John and Cam wrapped up so tight in each other that nothing else matters.

He comes back to himself a few minutes later, looking up at a blurry, slightly stained hotel room ceiling. "Holy shit," Cam says, and John agrees completely.

When they're all cleaned up, Cam is laying on his side curled into John's side, and it's good, the kind of comfortable John doesn't get to feel that often.

Cam's leg is thrown haphazardly over John's legs and John's hand is idly tracing Cam's ass. Almost all of him is smooth and nearly hairless. The only noticeable places with body hair are his pubes and legs, and John wonders idly how good he'd look waxed, buffed and completely bare.

"Thank you sir," Cam murmurs into his neck and curls closer, and that protective feeling rises up in John again.

"Any time," John answers.

Cam looks over at the clock and swears quietly, then sits up. "I gotta go, my roommate will start to worry."

"Tell me what you do," John asks abruptly as he sits up on his elbows.

"Go to school, mostly. You?" John watches Cam dig through his duffel, then pull out a pair of faded jeans and a black tee shirt with a Van Halen insignia across it.

"School mostly, too. My dad hates where I'm going, but I like it," John admits, then wonders what that just was. He doesn't share things; that's not something he does. Must be an after-effect of the awesome sex.

Cam packs the sinful pants into the duffel and unbuckles the collar. "I wish I could stay," he says softly and comes over to the bed.

"Mmmm." John says and links their hands, then pulls Cam down on top to kiss him once more.

"See you next Friday?" John asks, trying to keep the hope from his voice.

Cam blushes again and chuckles. "We'll see."

"We'll see, sir," John reminds him with a small smile and Cam smiles back before sliding off the bed and leaving.

After the door closes John gets up. He paid for a full night but it doesn't feel right staying in the room alone. He showers and dresses, and only after he's back in jeans and jacket does he notice the collar on the little end table by the bed.

With a small possessive smile John picks it up and taps it on his bottom lip.

Friday can't come soon enough.

NOW

John gets into his car and starts the half hour journey from the mountain to his top floor apartment in the Springs, and hopes fervently he won't fall asleep at the wheel, because he really is suddenly that tired. He flicks on the radio to some random station and the grating music works to keep him awake and annoyed the entire trek home. The third song is one that he remembers Cam used to listen to. He suddenly remembers a lot of things about Cam that he hasn't thought of for a very long time. Like how he knew Cam would be a good soldier, and he was a natural behind the controls of almost any flying craft. John wistfully remembers the same feeling and a touch of the anger that used to fill him visits him again. But only for a moment.

He used to be angry about the whole Air Force thing. Real angry and had a darkness in him that few people could handle. But time heals all wounds, or at least puts a band-aid on them long enough to learn how to deal, and he did, eventually. He's happy that he still has a job with the Air Force. Maybe not in the capacity that he wanted to all those years ago, but it works, and he's happy, more or less. John isn't the kind of person to just lie down and give up if he has any other choice, and clinging onto anger and resentment over something that happened so long ago feels like wasting a lot of time and energy on something he can't change.

John's one of the top people in his field now. He could teach if he wanted to, or work with his choice of companies - which is why he's here, of all places. There aren't many people qualified to work on Ancient math, which John has made his specialty, although he wonders if anyone on Earth or off is really qualified for that. He also knows - with a certain degree of success - how to handle Rodney, although sometimes that's a bust too, particularly when the coffee machine has run dry and there's still no answer in sight. But he doesn't have real regrets, just one or two, and he thinks in that respect that maybe he's ahead of the game compared to a lot of other people.

When he gets home he takes a quick shower and climbs into bed. The clock on the bedside table reads 5:41 am and as he slips into sleep he wonders whether, if he'd been a little later getting to the commissary and a little later coming home, he might have passed Cam by on the highway?

Would he even have known it was Cam?

NOW

Cam stands in front of a cracked full length mirror in his shabby hotel room and checks himself over once more. Every crease is blade straight, he's spit-polished and ready for anything. He removes a speck of lint from the sleeve of his dress blues and settles his hat on his head, then starts his journey for the mountain and the rest of his life.

The Stargate program and SG-1: he never thought this was going to be a part of his life. Well, in all honesty he didn't think he'd be around to have a future, so really, anything past Antarctica is a bonus and a blessing, but being a part of the SGC is beyond anything he could have hoped for. It feels right like few other things in his life ever have. He steps out into early morning gray light, and as he drives he has to remind himself over and over to keep to the speed limit. He doesn't want to get pulled over and end up being late for his first day; talk about making a bad impression.

Cam's excited to be at the mountain with Sam, too. It's been a long time since they worked together, and back then it wasn't work, really, more learning about advanced flight and how to fly in tight formation. This time around they're doing things on their own terms, and boy, does that feel good.

The last time he saw her was two days after he got an early promotion for uncompromising bravery in the face of danger. Cam still isn't sure it should be called bravery, it was more sheer Mitchell stubborn-headedness and a desperate need to survive so he and Banks could live for a few more hours. Cam comes from tough stock, and apart from actual death, not a whole lot can stop him when he sets his mind to something.

When their F-302 went down Banks got banged up bad, and if it hadn't been for Cam they'd both be dead. It was a damn close call for Cam, too. If the 302'd been an inch lower or the shot an inch higher, Banks would be dead from the weapons fire that took down their craft, and Cam would've taken the worst of the shrapnel. He's no fool; he knows things wouldn't ever be the same if that'd been the case. The crash was so bad that Banks might never walk again, but he's alive, and that's what really counts in Cam's book. He's got a ticket to join the Stargate program too, if and when he makes it out.

Sometimes Cam still has nightmares about that long cold wait in the F-302 with Banks bleeding out and Cam trying every trick in the book to keep them alive, wondering if they'd get rescued before hypothermia set in. He shakes off the thoughts with an effort, and tries to focus on the good things happening today. Those memories need to wait for another day with a lot of alcoholic distractions to help drown old sorrows.

When he sees Sam waiting at the doors with a smile he decides to make it a proper reunion. He grabs her by the waist with a whoop, picks her up and spins her like she was nothing, just like he used to, and hey, look at that, a decade later and she still screams just the same, too.

"It's good to see you Cam," She laughs when he finally puts her down.

"It's good to be seen," Cam replies as he follows her through the front door and they start the arduous journey through security and down into the belly of the beast. Cam feels like he's falling down Alice's rabbit hole. He's read every file and mission report he could get his hands on after he got the promotion and his new security clearance. He uses the time in the elevator to catch up with Sam, asking about her family and her team, and she asks how Mama, Dad and the farm are doing.

When level 28 pings and the doors open, Cam hesitates. Sam is already half out the door. "C'mon, I have something I think you need to see before you meet with General O'Neill."

Cam's game for just about anything, as long as it doesn't mess up his Class A's. These things are a bitch to clean. "Let's hope it's something interesting?"

Sam smiles like she's the cat that got the canary, swipes her access card over a door and Cam goes still like he hasn't for a good long time.

Because there it is, the machine that opened their world to the universe. It's larger than Cam thought it would be, and he has a sneaking suspicion Sam set this up from the get-go. There are no marines, no tech guys about and the lights are low like the room is asleep. Only the flood lights are on and the Stargate stands out stark and huge and completely alien in front of him. He turns from his drop-jawed staring to Sam, who looks back with a bit of that starry eyed-girl Cam saw in her all those years ago.

"There aren't any gate teams scheduled to come back for a few hours, so you can get closer if you like," she says, hushed and reverent like speaking in a domed church. Cam finds himself oddly subdued and awed as well, feeling like if he were to say something too loudly the spell would be broken. Cam steps right up to the thing. It's made of metal but it's warm to the touch. It's gray like gun-metal, but just a little too blue. Alien.

Cam wonders how much this gate has seen, how many people passed through it. There's a strange feeling in his belly, knowing that he'll be one of them. "It's… You go through this every day?" Cam asks.

"Not every day, but often, yeah." She smiles at the gate like it's an old friend, the way he looks at pictures of his first car - and that's a weird comparison to put on it, but there it is. "You'll be doing it too, now."

Cam backs down the ramp, not quite ready to let the gate out of his sight yet. "Joining SG-1 will definitely be worth it." He nudges her shoulder with his. "Especially since I'll be taking orders from a good friend I know."

For the first time since he got here Sam's smile falters. It's only for a second and it's back in place so fast Cam wonders if he even saw it. "Yeah, joining SG-1 will be good. And I think you might know someone else who works here. He seemed to know you, at least."

Cam frowns. The SGC is so tightly under wraps that he could have hung out with them for years and never known who the staff were. It piques his interest. "And who may that be?"

Sam's eyes become sharp. "You ever heard of a Dr. John Sheppard?"

Cam is glad as hell Sam needs to card the gate-room door open, because he needs a moment to re-learn how to breathe. "Yeah, I think I've heard that name before."

"Good," she says brightly, and leads him in a different direction, up some stairs and through the control room and to a completely different door. The whole time Cam feels like he's shell-shocked, like a rug's been pulled from under his feet. He's left to scramble for the quiet confidence he usually manages so well.

"So, I take it the big man's behind this door?" Cam asks.

Sam pats his arm. "I'll leave you to it. Good luck."

Cam takes a steadying breath before knocking on the door. All he can think of is the first time he heard the name John Sheppard, and the world that opened up for him then, too.

THEN

Cam taps his pencil restlessly on his notebook, bouncing in time with the second hand from the clock that sits on the wall just behind the instructor's desk. The professor pauses and gives Cam an irritated glance. This instructor has no qualms about singling people out to berate them. Cam sits up straighter in his chair and stops tapping, but he watches the slow roll of the minute hand as it reaches the hour.

He makes sure he isn't the first person out of the lecture, but it's a near thing.

It's late afternoon; most of the students in the halls are walking slowly, or hanging around in small groups, chatting and enjoying the free time. It's Cam's favorite part of the day. He's never been one for the rat race, not like some people.

"Hey, Cam!" Eric MacKenzie yells across the hall. He's one of the guys in Cam's fencing class and over the last few months they've become friends. Cam stops to let him and a few of his buddies catch up.

"What's up, Mack?" Cam asks. MacKenzie's tanned face practically leers at him, and his brown eyes have a very dangerous sparkle that Cam knows all too well.

"Dude, did you hear about Barcozzi here?" he asks with a punch in the arm to a tall, lanky olive-skinned friend. Barcozzi grabs his arm but he's blushing so bright he could serve as a stop sign.

"No, but I hope it's good, what with that kind of color." Cam laughs as they start walking down the hall towards the residential section of campus.

"Oh it is. Get this, you know Connie Chambers?" Which is a stupid question if Cam has anything to say about it. She's the hottest thing this Academy has ever seen. She's also about two years older than them and doesn't deign to lower herself to their level.

"Who doesn't?"

Mack guffaws and gives another one of those dangerous smiles, this time directed at Barcozzi. "Well, turns out Joey here knows her family. We got an in to her party this Friday. You have to come."

Oh no. Cam already has plans, as in going back to the bar where he found John and losing himself for a few hours in sweet mindless ecstasy. But this is big, as in Connie Chambers Big, and there's no way he can pass it up unless it's something really serious.

Cam's chewing his lip, trying to come up with something to say when he walks right into someone. "Oh hey, sorry man, I-"

"You should try to be more careful," the other guy says.

Cam's world freezes. He can see everything with such clarity it's like someone stopped time and took a picture. He knows that voice and as he looks up, he sees irritation bleed into shock and recognition in a tanned face, with green-brown eyes and dark hair that sticks up every which way without the benefit of any product.

He looks different, is the first thing Cam thinks. The second is that he looks better with the leather jacket and black jeans instead of the pale blues of their academy uniforms, and the third thought-well there isn't really a third, it's just a lot of static fuzz messing up his brain and a broken record litany of 'what the hell is he doing here?' running over and over inside his head.

John recovers quicker than Cam does, picking up the books that fell from his numb hands and passing them back. "Here. Be more careful next time, okay?" he says gently.

Cam nods. "Yes, sir," he says out of habit since John's a few years ahead of him, and John's ears go pink. He pushes past them and into the sea of students emerging as another lecture ends, and Cam can't stop watching his retreating back until it completely disappears.

"Damn upperclassmen. They always think they can push us around or something," Barcozzi says.

"Who is he?" Mack asks. "I don't remember seeing him around."

Barcozzi shrugs. "His name's Sheppard, I think. A total loner. Probably only came here because he was a dickwad at home and daddy didn't want to deal with him anymore."

Cam has to bite his tongue not to reply and makes a noise in his throat that could mean anything at all. It seems good enough for the guys.

When he gets to his dorm and throws his books on the bed, one of them isn't his. He takes a surreptitious look around to make sure his roommate isn't here and flips the book open to the front page. There, in a neat scrawl at the top corner are the words: Property of John Sheppard. There's a room number and a phone number, and the only thing going through his head is an idiotic 'I was his property, that night' that makes Cam's face heat up and his dick take notice.

Should he return it? Of course he should - he'd be an asshole not to. He would have even had he not known who John was. But this whole thing between them complicates things a little. Cam isn't sure if he wants to seek out John just now. Or ever, really. He liked it a whole lot more when John was sir and Cam was his to do with as he pleased. Now he knows there's someone in this school who knows his secret - the only one he's got really - and he doesn't know what to do.

He's kept this hidden, the way it should be, the way he's always handled it. Cam's good at compartmentalizing - he's taught himself how to do it ever since he found out that sex the way everyone else did it just didn't work for him. But now John is here, in the same town, the same school, only a building away and Cam can feel a nervous tick starting, feels the urge to get up and run as far and as fast as he can.

This isn't okay, it isn't at all. Everything needs to have its neat little box and John just blew that out of the water simply by being here.

Cam is so wrapped up in his head that when someone knocks on his door he jumps and curses himself. He holds his breath for a few seconds to try to gain some kind of composure. Cam opens the door - it's most likely one of the girls in the next dorm room over looking for his roommate.

Instead it's him leaning against the door-jamb holding a book that looks a hell of a lot like Cam's. "I think I grabbed the wrong book," he says, like it's nothing at all and thank god Cam's mama taught him some manners, because that's the only thing kicking in.

"Oh yeah, thanks," he says dumbly and steps to the side. "You wanna come in?" sir-John damn it-nods and comes in, holding the textbook Cam dropped as he looks around. "Nice place. Where's your roommate?"

Cam closes the door and leans against it, trying for nonchalant. "Out. He has late classes on Wednesdays."

John taps the books lying on Cam's bed thoughtfully. "I didn't think when you talked about your roommate you'd be coming back here," he says quietly.

"Yeah," Cam croaks and tries not to show how he's shaking apart inside, but John is quicker than most - it's like he already knows all Cam's tells. His eyes sharpen and then he's right there with his hands on each side of Cam's neck.

"Hey, hey, calm down, I'm not gonna bite you. Just breathe, okay?"

Cam wants to push him away, tell him to fuck off so he can deal with this on his own, but John's hands are big and warm and despite himself, Cam listens and breathes slowly, in and out until he's calm enough to talk.

"You're not supposed to be here," is all he can say.

John shrugs, all relaxed good-nature. "Yeah well, you weren't supposed to be here either," is all he says, but John's hands don't move from Cam's neck and the animal attraction that pulled Cam to him that first night takes over again. All of a sudden he's wrapping his arms around John's waist and pressing his forehead into John's warm neck. Cam doesn't understand this, doesn't know why or how. If he's honest with himself, he's never felt this towards anyone before.

"Good boy," John whispers into his ear. The lines are blurring again and it isn't John any longer but sir, the one who held his cock and kissed his mouth and ordered him to come.

Cam is holding on to him like his walls are shaking apart and he has no clue why.

"Just... hold on as long as you need, okay?"

"Yes, sir." Cam whispers.

John kisses his ear, a soft brush of lips that leaves Cam feeling disarmed, then he leans over to flick the lock on the door. As the lock tumbles over the atmosphere changes and it's like the hotel room all over again. Things become simple so Cam can breathe. "You know, now that I know you're going to school here, I don't like you calling me that."

"You mean sir?" Cam asks.

"Yeah," John replies and runs a slow hand through Cam's hair. "You call people sir every day. I want you to call me something different."

Cam inches his brows up. "You wanna do this now?" he asks.

He can feel John shrug, the warmth of his skin is bleeding into Cam, and John smells so good. Cam's starting to wonder whether touching John at all was a good idea. "It's better when all this stuff gets sorted at the beginning."

The beginning. John says it like he knows he'll be around for a while, and that makes Cam want to shake even more. He closes his eyes, takes a deep steadying breath and steps back from John's arms. "Look, I don't know if this is a good idea."

"You ever call anyone Master?" John asks abruptly.

"No," Cam admits. Everyone he's subbed to has been Ma'am or Mistress but he's not about to tell John that. John looks at him and it does something to Cam, makes him want to drop to his knees right here and now. This is exactly why Cam has kept things casual with others before, because this need to please his doms pushes his self-imposed boundaries and that can't happen. Especially not here.

John nods like that settles everything. "Then that's what I'll be to you."

Cam backs up another step. He can feel a deep panic rise up and he needs to get this situation under control before something bad happens. "Look, John, it's nice you're interested, but I don't know if this is a good idea."

John stares at him for a moment before he takes a step closer and puts his hands on Cam's shoulders. He says with utmost gentleness, "It's okay to be worried, Cam. I want you to always tell me what you're feeling." Cam thinks John looks just a touch vulnerable and it hits him hard in the pit of his belly. Maybe John has a bit of this out of control feeling too.

"Okay, then I'm worried about this whole thing. I don't know if I want what you're trying to sell me," Cam replies. He'd take another step away but there's only so many he can take before he backs himself into the wall.

John's brows shoot up. "Sell you?"

Cam scowls. "You know what I mean."

John waves a finger between them. "So you don't want this?"

"Yes. I mean no," Cam says and feels his face get hot, but he isn't backing down. He can't be with John, not like this and most definitely not here.

John's doing that thing again where he's looking through Cam straight to his soul. "You know what I think?" he asks

"Not really."

"I think you're scared," John says, like Cam didn't say anything at all, and Cam's shocked into silence. "I don't think you've ever submitted, not really. I mean, you go through the motions but you've never given up total control to someone else and that scares the shit out of you, so instead of seeing where this takes us, you're gonna turn it down before anything even starts."

Cam doesn't move, can barely breathe. No one has ever read him like he's an open book before. "I don't think you need to dissect my decision," Cam retorts coldly, but his usual confident voice comes out shaky. The same kind of shakiness that's inside his bones.

"Fine, I won't dissect," John relents, as if he's seen just how deeply his words have affected Cam, and that's damn unfair too. "Just tell me this, and be truthful. Were you going to come this Friday?"

Cam opens his mouth, intent on telling him no, but his mama didn't raise a liar. He cuts his eyes away to the side and nods.

"So you do want this," John confirms, then crosses his arms over his chest. "Now the question is, will you say yes or no?" John stands there like he could wait forever.

"John..." Cam pleads.

"Cam, if you say no I'll respect that. We can even pretend like nothing happened if that's what you want. All I want is for you to think about your answer before you give it to me."

Cam still can't look at him - John's gotten too far inside his head already. He wonders just how much John can see in his face. "I... I want this." Cam admits, his voice small.

The rest of Cam's words are cut off because John's kissing him and it's not like before. It feels like possession, like John's taking his mouth for his own, like he's taking him and Cam isn't sure he can do this, but he's moaning and he can't get enough either.

The kiss goes on, then softens, becomes tender and sweet, and John traces a single fingertip along the line of his jaw. Cam's throat starts to ache and all he wants to do is push himself into those hands and be held again.

A key sliding into the lock makes Cam and John break apart.

Simon stomps into the room, his short blonde hair matted to his head and looking like the proverbial wilted flower. "Cam, you would not believe the crap Colonel Frasier is pulling right now, I mean, me and the guys only pranked one room and we get three hours of-oh. Who's this?"

Cam's head is spinning and his world feels like it's on the fast drop of a roller coaster, all empty-stomach adrenaline-pumping fear. He swallows and tries for nonchalant. "His name is John Sheppard. He's, uh-"

John steps forward with his hand outstretched, all cool confidence. "Cam's new math tutor. Nice to meet you."

Simon stares at the hand offered confusedly before taking it. "Simon Reeves. I didn't know he even took math."

Cam puts his best self-deprecating smile on. "Yeah, well, there's probably a reason for that."

Simon looks suspiciously at Cam. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Actually," John says through a perfect Sunday smile, "We were just going to study. You need him for anything just now? I don't want to get in the way of routine or anything."

Simon chuckles. "Routine? Hell no. Go on, teach the man his numbers. He's the first good roommate I've had since we got here. I'm invested in his welfare."

And pretty much everything else Cam does, but that's a conversation for later. "Thanks, man. We'll be back in a few hours."

When they step through the door and into the hallway Cam turns to John. He feels like he just dodged a bullet. "Math tutor?"

"It worked, didn't it?" John says with a smile.

"Yeah, I guess, but now where are we gonna go?"

John looks entirely too innocent. "I was thinking my place."

Cam rolls his eyes. "Yeah, until your roommate comes home."

John smiles with a gleam in his eye that makes Cam nervous. "I have one of the private dorm rooms. It was a deal my dad made with me. I take certain courses and he gives me some privacy."

Oh. Oh. "Cool," Cam replies, and follows John down the stairs and into the neighboring building.

NOW

When Cam knocks on the door to the General's office there's no answer and the door swings in a little, showing a small comfortable office with open, half emptied boxes along one wall and a mess of paperwork all over the shining mahogany desk. He walks in, intent on making a good impression, and stands at attention when he hears footsteps nearing the door.

He's still trying to get a handle on John being here when General O'Neill walks in looking annoyed and muttering, "How hard is it to understand 'don't touch it'?" He strides to his desk and picks up a file, then looks up, surprised that Cam is standing there. "Colonel Mitchell. You're early."

Cam nods and makes a quick salute. "Maybe a little. It's good to be here, sir."

"I'm sure it is," O'Neill replies naturally, but there's a spark of amusement in those dark brown eyes. He drops the file in his hand and goes to the other side of the desk where there are three other very thick file folders. "So, as you know you're here for good old SG-1. That was the assignment you requested , right?"

Cam nods. "Yes, sir."

O'Neill tips his head to the side. "Can you do me a favor and stand down, Colonel? If you stand any straighter you might pull something."

"Of course." Cam relaxes into parade rest and O'Neill is still amused by him and won't say why. Cam's starting to get annoyed. He'd heard General O'Neill was a strange man and not the usual run of the mill General. He's starting to get an idea what those people meant.

"So... I should probably inform you that there's been a minor hitch to your assignment," O'Neill says.

Cam can feel his belly tighten up. "And may I ask what that minor hitch is, sir?"

O'Neill taps his hand on the three files sitting on the corner of his desk. "These are the very lengthy files on the team you're now commanding."

Well, that's one sentence he most definitely isn't expecting. "Commanding, sir?" Cam hopes it doesn't sound as dumb as it feels when he says it.

"Now I haven't really read these, but I'm sure they'll give you all kinds of excellent insight on who these good people are. At least I'd hope so, with that much paper." O'Neill idly flips the top folder open and closed again.

Cam holds his tongue until he trusts himself to speak. "General, I came to join SG-1," he reminds him.

"Colonel, you're here to lead SG-1." General O'Neill retorts.

Cam can't believe this. How is he supposed to lead a team that's gone through the Stargate for seven plus years with the man in front of him? How can he give orders when the people he's leading have ten times the experience he does? "I'm sorry sir, but I... the reason I requested to be a part of this-under the leadership of Samantha Carter... I want to learn from the best."

O'Neill puts his hands on his hips and finally looks like a General. "And you'll still be learning - I'm sure Daniel will be more than happy to help with that; the man can natter your ear off. Same with Carter, but I mostly tune them out - just listen for key words. As for the command - if you haven't already noticed from those fine Class A's you're wearing, you're a Colonel, and Carter's only a Lieutenant Colonel. You outrank her, Mitchell."

O'Neill is right, and Cam's an idiot to think that a leadership position such as heading the flagship team of the SGC would be given to someone outside the Air Force, like Teal'c or Dr. Jackson. The Powers That Be would never allow it and the General knows it too. O'Neill taps the folders again with an air of expectation.

"Now, take the files and read them through, Colonel. I want you and your new team ready for your first mission next week."

Cam hightails it out of the General's office with the three folders that comprise his new team and immediately goes off to find one of them so he can find out why no one told him about this wonderful little development. After a lengthy search he finds Dr. Jackson's office, but there's no one in it, and the half drunk coffee cup sitting next to his computer has long gone cold. He already knows Teal'c is on Dakara and won't be back for another four days, so that leaves good old Sam.

Sam has also disappeared when he checks her lab. Great, just great. Well, his gran always said it ain't a good idea to go chasing after trouble on an empty stomach, so Cam switches from searching for his team mates to searching for the commissary, which thankfully isn't as hard to find as he thought. All he has to do is follow the hungry masses.

Cam's just grabbing a tray and getting into a lineup when he hears, "Oh, please, those incompetent mouth-breathers wouldn't know how to reassemble it if the designs came up to them and smacked them across the face."

"McKay, a third of the designs haven't been pulled from the outpost yet," a man replies with forced patience and Cam breaks out in a cold sweat. He knows that voice; he'd know it anywhere. He looks around and finds two men sitting at a table near the back of the commissary. "Besides, even if we did have them, the math for their actual flying components is huge. Even you're gonna have problems wading through it."

"I highly doubt that, Sheppard," the man with thinning sandy hair snaps. His eyes are bright blue and annoyed.

"Really? Well, you let me know when you figure out the math on how they fly by someone's mental command," Sheppard retorts looking equally annoyed, then gets up from his seat.

There's no way John can leave the commissary without passing Cam. When he turns to walk out, their eyes meet and Sheppard's eyes go wide with shock. Without thinking Cam's eyes drop, just for a moment before he looks back up, but he sees that John knows, he knows what that means because his hands squeeze the tray in a trembling tight grasp before they smooth out back to normal.

"Colonel Mitchell, it's good to see you again," John says stiffly.

Cam feels like he's been slapped in the face and not in the good way. "Yeah, you too," he manages. "I heard you're a doctor now?"

Sheppard shrugs. "Doctorate in math with a masters in applied physics. Boring stuff, but I get to play with interesting toys."

And is that all I was to you? Cam wants to ask. The long years of pent-up anger and betrayal are coming back to the surface with a force that surprises him, and Cam grits his teeth against all the things he wants to say. "Sounds like fun," he says carefully.

John's always been able to see through his façades, and his face changes to guarded and stony. "Yeah. I should probably get back to work. It was nice talking to you."

"Yeah," Cam agrees in a voice that says it's anything but. John's shoulders hunch defensively for a second before he turns away to empty his tray and leaves the commissary.

Cam can't eat anymore. He steps out of the line and goes to find out where the gym is. He needs to deal with this anger Sheppard's stirred up before it messes up the rest of his first day.

NOW

John isn't bad at a lot of things. He knows three different languages, he can keep up with SG teams when they have to sprint for the gate, he's competent with a gun, and he can deal with Rodney on a daily basis - which sometimes he feels should come with a medal.

He'd thought seeing Cam again would be another of those things he'd handle well - in fact he'd banked on it. John had thought all he'd need to do would be give Cam one of his Sheppard smiles, slouch a little, maybe say something vague yet suave, and leave the room. It was supposed to be easy and sweet without giving anything away - just the way John likes it. But that sure didn't happen. Well, John also wasn't expecting to see Cam standing there wearing those Class A's and looking more beautiful than he'd ever remembered.

Cam's gotten leaner over the years, and his shoulders have finally filled out. His bottom lip's not quite as plump, thinned through age and most likely from Cam biting it. But those eyes are still bright blue and say everything Cam couldn't – the same eyes that drew John to him the first time they met. And when Cam looked down in a subtle public submission that he'd always used to drive John crazy with...

Cam is most definitely driving John crazy, but for very different reasons these days. After that meeting in the cafeteria John's spent more time in his office and less time going anywhere else. He isn't hiding from Cam, no matter what Rodney says. Hiding would mean people can't find him, and they've come in and out of his office and bothered him just like usual. Call it a tactical retreat, or maybe John just really needs to figure out these calculations. Whatever.

About three more days pass without seeing Cam, and then some Mal Doran woman comes through the gate and messes up Dr. Jackson, and it's John and Rodney who have the privilege of trying to get some bracelet thing off Daniel's arm. Which means seeing a lot more of Cam.

"So, boys, hows it going?" Cam asks from across John's desk as he fingers the broken hand-saw blades John had used only moments ago to try to cut Daniel out of the bracelet.

"Not good," Rodney replies bluntly as he clacks away on his computer on the other work desk. He looks particularly annoyed today.

"I'm going to be stuck here forever next to the craziest woman in the galaxy," Daniel says tiredly. He takes off his glasses and tosses them on the counter. John actually feels a twinge of sympathy for the guy.

Vala stops swinging her legs from her seat on the lab counter and looks mildly affronted. "Darling, you make it sound like that's a bad thing."

"In which way is this even remotely good?" Daniel mumbles through his fingers.

Vala shrugs and a slow, dangerous smile breaks out over her features. John is suddenly very glad he isn't Daniel. "I get to try your planet's food - which isn't all that good, by the way - and meet lots of new people, mostly pretty men," she continues with a wink at Rodney, whose cheeks go pink. He turns abruptly around. "And lets not forget about the treasure."

"You're incredibly hedonistic - you know that, right?" Daniel tries for intellectual, but sounds a little bitchy.

Vala flips her hair over a shoulder with a sniff. "The best way to be, if you ask me."

Daniel looks like he's about to retort to that when Cam raps his knuckles on the table. "Lets try focusing on one thing at a time," he orders, then turns to John. "What else have you found?"

"There's a low-frequency energy signature coming off the bracelet," John tells him, striving for professional scientist. It's hard when Cam is encroaching on his space. "We're thinking it's a type of force-shield protecting the technology inside so we can't turn it off-"

"And penetrating the force shield safely is a lot harder than it sounds," Rodney finishes with a scowl. "The emitter for it is likely the main reason Daniel and Vala can't be separated. The energy readings are low, yes, but they're incredibly hard to disrupt, which greatly complicates matters."

"We don't want to try to disrupt it too much. With a strong enough electrical current their hearts will start beating irregularly. Possibly even stop," John says with a sigh.

"Well, that's a whole lot of fantastic," Cam says sarcastically.

"So... I'm not getting out of this bracelet any time soon, am I?" Daniel asks dejectedly.

"No," Rodney says unhappily.

Vala clicks her heels together and smiles with too many teeth. "See? We can finally be together like we've always dreamed, Daniel. You should be happy."

Daniel's mouth thins and he yanks at the wires and electrical pads attached to the bracelet. John smirks at Rodney's indignant squawk.

"Jackson, what are you doing?" Cam asks calmly.

Daniel blinks and squints short shortsightedly at Cam. "Getting out of here. There must be another way to get this thing off."

Cam puts his hands on Daniel's shoulders and pushes him back into the chair. "Play nice with the doctors for just a little longer. It's an important rule. I'll be back soon, hopefully with something useful."

Rules, indeed. Cam looks up just as he says that and John has to look away.

THEN

"Hey, is that Shep?"

"Here? Yeah, right."

"Holy shit, I think it is! Hey, Shep!"

Parties are not John's thing. It's not that he's anti-social, or that he doesn't like people. He just prefers small get-togethers and intimate groups instead. He likes to keep an eye on everything that's going on around him, and he can never do that at house parties like this.

He waves at his classmates, saunters over and accepts a beer, then starts to scan the crowd. He takes in the drunken dancing in the living room, the loud joke-telling in the kitchen and the general debauchery around him. He knows Cam is somewhere in this mess and he tries to keep his search as subtle as possible. It's only been a week and already John feels possessive. He wasn't expecting that to happen this quickly.

John finally sees Cam standing in the kitchen with a few of the friends he was with when John bumped into him in the halls that first time, talking to a few local girls. Simon's there too, and he stands just a little too close for John's comfort.

Cam laughs at a joke one of the guys makes and turns his head. Their eyes meet and Cam's smile goes a little soft around the edges. John stays with his classmates for a while longer for forms sake, laughing in all the right places and generally being a good party-goer, then starts the slow process of weaving through people until he steps up just behind Cam.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself." Cam replies with a smile. Damn, he looks good tonight. He's wearing a tight black tee with his dog tags outlined under the shirt, dark jeans and cowboy boots.

The plan was for Cam to make an appearance at this shin-dig, then to come back to John's dorm room later on, but studying tonight got boring fast, and John doesn't like the idea of Cam being here without him, even if they can't be together in public like he'd want. John doesn't really mind that he can't show his feelings about Cam to the rest of the world. In truth, it takes some of the pressure off. He likes Cam a lot, but he's never been one for PDAs. It would still be nice for everyone to know that Cam's John's, though.

"Coming to hang out in the land of bad jokes and cheap beer?" Cam asks as he takes a pull from his beer.

John smirks at the punchline of a joke being told to one of the girls. "You should become a car salesman," he says sarcastically.

One of the guys laughs and points an unsteady finger towards John. "Shouldn't you be studying with that massive brain of yours?" he asks.

Simon half turns with a smile but it doesn't reach his eyes, and he doesn't make room for John in their little circle of friends. "Barcozzi's got a point. You're one of those advanced classes guys, right? And hey, I thought upper classmen didn't hang out with the likes of us little people."

"Does this look like the Academy to you?" John asks, skipping over the comment about his course work. Yeah, he might be taking the advanced classes, but he made a deal with his dad to take the tough courses as long as his dad left John alone. John had convinced him that to keep his grades up he'd need all the peace and quiet he could get. Being in advanced classes isn't something he prides himself on.

He doesn't like the way Simon mentions it, though. He makes it sound like an accusation.

"Guess not," Simon replies; the smile is gone and he looks annoyed. Well, that feeling goes both ways as far as John's concerned.

"Oh come on, Simon, this is a party, quit being a jackass," the other brown-haired guy says. He looks pretty drunk, and John bets that with a few more beers he'll be under the table. "You know what we need to make this night better? Shots!" And with that, the guy puts Simon in a headlock and pulls him to the fridge where John's guessing the liquor is hiding.

"Well, Mack's drunk," Cam comments with a shake of his head. "That guy is such a light-weight."

John chuckles. With the promise of more booze the rest of the group follow until it's only him and Cam left. "Your friends are pretty interesting," John manages.

"Sheesh. They're drunk."

John and Cam look at each other, then break into laughter. "I didn't think you'd come, honestly," Cam says.

"It beats studying with my massive brain." John leans over and covers his mouth just enough with a beer bottle so only Cam can hear him. "All I could think about was you in those leather pants."

Cam blushes prettily.

"Where do you keep those, anyways?" John asks.

"Storage locker," Cam mutters quietly.

"Smart. I can't wait to see what else is in there."

Cam looks like he's fighting down a blush, and John thinks it's adorable. How can this man be so addictive? "You know," Cam says lightly, "I was looking for the bathroom a little while ago, but instead I found this room upstairs at the end of the hall. There's a lock on it."

"A lock, you say?" John asks.

"I'll go first. Meet me there in ten?" Cam asks. Before John can offer a reply he steps away and up the stairs. John wants to go, but meeting him in a room at a party like this is dangerous. Someone could see them and that could end both their careers.

But against that, John thinks of Cam on his knees giving everything up. Just the thought of seeing Cam come downstairs later, knowing that minutes ago he had him on his knees with John's cock between his lips, silent and begging with those huge blue eyes of his... He'll make an exception just this once.

John meanders around the groups of people for a good ten minutes before heading upstairs. There's only one room that fits the bill, and the wide double doors at the end of a long hallway reminds him of his dad's office back home.

The room really is an office. The lack of comfortable horizontal surfaces makes it tough for people to fool around here, which is most likely why Cam chose it. Cam's kept the lights off and John can see him bathed in silver from the floor to ceiling windows that open out to the back yard, with floodlights shining on the manicured gardens below. Yep, Connie's parents are definitely rich. "This is really dangerous."

"Yes, Master, it is," Cam replies and comes in to kiss him long and deep.

"We'll have to be quick," John adds with a sharp bite to Cam's neck. Cam moans, a soft, quiet noise that gets John hard and wanting.

"I can be quick for you," Cam says and grabs the button on John's jeans, but his hands are clumsier than they usually are, and now that John's got a better look at him his eyes are a little unfocused too. John grabs his hands and holds them fast.

"How much have you had to drink?" John asks.

Cam shrugs and tries for the clasp again but John's quicker and holds him still. "Three beers. I'm not drunk or anything."

Figures. With a regretful sigh John shakes his head. "Then we can't play."

"What? John, I know what I can handle. Besides, you didn't have trouble playing with me last week." Cam sounds confused and a little annoyed and John gets it, he really does.

John rolls his eyes, then takes Cam in his arms. "You weren't my sub then, and now you are. I want you safe, so no play when either of us have been drinking." John stops running his hands over Cam's shoulders. "We haven't gone over my rules yet, have we?"

Cam looks up. "Ah, no."

"This is something we should have done a while ago," John says, feeling a little sheepish. He always goes over the rules, but they've both been so busy these past few days he hasn't had time until now.

"You don't have anything to apologize for-"

"Rules are there for a reason," John says slowly and carefully. Cam nods, mute.

John takes Cam's hand and leads them into the room properly, then he leans on the desk and positions Cam between his legs. His hands are braced on Cam's hips, tracing the hipbones and soaking up the warmth of his body through his jeans. "Rule one: When we're alone I'm not John anymore and you aren't Cam. I'm your master and you'll address me as such."

Cam nods. "Okay."

John's hands tighten on his hips. "Okay, what?"

"Okay... Master." Cam replies quietly as he looks up shyly from under his lashes. John can be greedy, and when it comes to Cam calling him that he's as greedy as they come.

"Good boy," John praises and kisses his neck as a reward. He tastes like salt and smells like the sweet, yeasty beer he was drinking. "Rule number two: if you use your safe word, play ends. I'll want to talk to you about it after, too, so it doesn't get to that point again."

Cam nods and goes lax in John's arms, giving up that little bit of control that he always wants. John can feel his pulse hammering away as he kisses Cam's neck again. "Rule number three: I want to show you off but it's too dangerous for us. If you want to tell someone about what we have then you need to talk to me first." He says this with a tinge of regret - he'd love to see Cam wearing all kinds of indecent clothing so people know that he's John's to do with as he pleases, but they can't do that, especially not in places like this.

Cam nods again. "I understand, Master."

"Good. Rule number four: I'll respect any rules you set down, but I reserve the right to discuss them with you if I disagree. The same goes for you. Okay?"

Cam nods again and John kisses his cheek. "So, how are we doing so far?" John asks.

"Good, I guess. I've never really gone over the rules like this."

John stops kissing him and pulls back to look at him in the eyes. "How did you do this before?"

Cam shrugs. "One night stands mostly. I've never done this more than on the weekends."

"Then you've played with the wrong kinds of people," John tells him and cups his cheek gently. "Rules are important. Some can be pushed, but the ground rules can't, not without talking about them first."

"And that's what these are?" Cam asks.

John nods. "Yeah," he replies, and kisses Cam slowly and sweetly, like Cam's a precious gift.

"Now, rule five: if you disobey me I'll punish you. I'm fair, but I won't put up with crap. Push me and I'll tan your hide," John says with a hard note in his voice. He doesn't like the idea that Cam would push him, but he isn't foolish enough to think there won't be times when he'll try.

"I understand," Cam replies and swallows nervously. "What about good behavior?"

John smiles and traces his fingers over the line of Cam's jaw. There's only the barest hint of stubble there. "That's rule six. It's still a punishment, but it's the good kind, I promise."

"Mmm, good," he says, and Cam really does look pleased. "Any other rules?"

"Two. Rule seven: we don't play if either of us have been drinking, or are tired or angry. I don't like the idea of doing something that can hurt you when either of us are impaired. And rule eight: we stay until the end, no one leaves during play."

Cam tips his head to the side so John can kiss his neck again. "Good rules," Cam says.

"So, you have any?" John asks.

"Just the ones I mentioned before."

John nods. "I want to contest one of those rules, but we'll save that for later." That being no tying his hands down, but he'd rather mention that when John's got some time to prove his argument.

Cam frowns at that, but John kisses him again, long and sweet, memorizing all the spots that make Cam melt against him.

"So, no play then?" Cam asks sadly.

"No play, but if it's any consolation I really, really want to," John says and bites Cam once more on the shoulder through his shirt.

"And if we leave right now, can we do more of this?" Cam asks hopefully.

John chuckles, presses his nose to Cam's neck and breathes him in. "Definitely."

"I"ll start making my goodbyes then," Cam drawls as he steps out from John's arms.

John gives him a firm swat on the ass as he goes. "Make it quick."

John waits a few minutes after Cam leaves the room, only leaving when he's sure Cam's made it downstairs and has had time to meet up with his friends. He's about to walk down the stairs when he hears Simon's voice and the drawling rumble of his sub.

"-Just don't understand why you're leaving," Simon says, annoyed.

"I told you, I'm getting tired, and besides in a few hours someone's gonna have to take care of Mack and I'm making sure I won't get stuck with that job like last time," Cam replies. John stays utterly still and pushes himself into the wall, trying to make himself as small as possible.

"You're going to hang out with that Sheppard guy," Simon says and it isn't phrased as a question. Accusation and something else ugly drips from his words. John goes still, his breath stalling in his lungs.

"I'm really not," Cam denies. He pauses for a moment and John can imagine the thoughtful expression on his face as he mulls something over. "What is it with you and that Sheppard guy anyways? He's cool, in a loner kinda way. The guy needs friends, Simon," Cam says with a strain in his voice like he's trying to force himself to be patient.

"I just... don't think he's good for you is all," Simon mumbles.

"Don't worry mama bear, I'm a big boy," Cam retorts. There's a shushing sound and a muffled 'hey!' "Relax, man, chicks dig guys with messy hair. Makes 'em look... I don't know, dangerous or something."

"You think so?" Simon asks.

Cam laughs and John listens to them walk away and down the stairs, talking about the girls in the kitchen and which is the pretty one.

John takes a slow steady breath and finally stops digging his fingers into the drywall behind him. That was a little too close for comfort.

NOW

If Cam has learned anything on his first mission with his team, it's that fighting things that aren't real sucks. Especially when they can cause immense pain without breaking or bruising skin. After fighting the knight and getting the treasure, General O'Neill told him without further ado to "get your ass to the infirmary, Colonel."

Who'd ever have thought that kicking Mack's ass in fencing would actually prove useful for anything other than poking fun at the guy?

Cam goes for a lengthy checkup by the on-site medic Dr. Keller. She's just as confused about the lack of marks as he is, and tells him sternly that if anything shows up he's to come back immediately. After that he's sent on his way to finish up his paperwork. That doesn't last long because sitting too long hurts the slash the knight did across his lower back, and he can't stand for too long because of the jab to his calf muscle. Which leaves walking - well, limping. A lot of it.

It's not like Cam is unfamiliar with the prospect; he's part of the Air Force, and marching is one of those things they teach early on. It's just that he really wants to get this work done with so he can go home and soak in his tub for a good year or so.

The science labs still have their lights on, and Cam pokes his head into one of them to tell whoever's inside in no uncertain terms that it's well past closing time and they need to go home. O'Neill was right, some people have a bad habit of never leaving the base. Instead of throwing a good natured insult about sleep and scientists, he's taken aback. John and Sam are in the lab together. Sam's typing madly away on her laptop, and John's dictating to her quietly as he watches numbers flick across a monitor that's hooked up to the Ancient device they found in the cavern.

He didn't think Sam was back yet. She must have gotten back from Area 51 and gone straight to work, and it looks like John and Sam work a bit more closely than Cam had originally thought. He isn't sure he wants to interrupt, and really, he has no clue what he'd say to John either. He's about to back away from the doorway when John looks up and his eyes go wide, then flick guiltily back down to the device.

Well, now the cat's out of the bag he might as well say something. "Ain't it a little late to still be working?" Cam asks.

"Cam!" Sam looks up from her laptop with a tired smile. "I heard you won us some treasure. How are you feeling?"

"Apart from everything hurting I think I'll live." He stretches his neck from side to side. "So, we know what this thing does yet?"

"Not yet, although we have a few theories," John replies.

"We think Daniel's idea about it being a communications device is correct. At least in theory," Sam adds.

"In theory?" Cam asks. He has a feeling he's going to regret asking.

John points at the device with his coffee cup. "The communications stones look like they're a perfect fit. I think if it wasn't for Sam and Dr. Lee beaming in and smacking them out of Daniel's and Vala's hands they'd already be using it."

Cam smiles a little at the idea of Sam smacking Daniel's hand like a six year old caught with their hand in a cookie jar, and the snippy comments Vala would make. He tries not to laugh. "He was pretty adamant about the thing."

"Daniel's been chasing after the Ancients for as long as he's known about them. You get used to it," Sam says a little apologetically.

"Well, at least I got some warning now. That man can have a one-track mind sometimes," Cam replies, then turns to John with a frown. "Just out of curiosity, how did you get this gig anyways? Didn't think the SGC needed many mathematicians."

John spins his finger in the air and nose dives it to touch the device. All the lights go on at the same time. "My specialty is Ancient equipment because I have the ATA gene."

Huh. "Okay, that's cool." Cam looks over the device. He isn't going to touch it or anything; he knows that Daniel got his hand smacked and Sam isn't above giving him the same treatment. But still, talk about interesting. With just one touch John made the entire thing come alive. Cam decidedly doesn't think about all the other things that have come alive under those hands. "So, hearing any voices yet since you turned it on?"

John holds up one of the oblong stones, looking amused. "You'd need to put one of these on it to make it work, so no, no voices."

Cam suddenly realizes how close he's standing to John. "Well, that's good. Let's hope those theories and that gene of yours aren't too much for it. This thing looks pretty old."

John doesn't smile and he doesn't look away from Cam. "Maybe it's so old it won't even work properly."

Cam tips his head to the side. "Maybe. But maybe not. I'm sure you can get it running again. If you really work at it." Cam doesn't know what they're talking about anymore, but it sure as hell isn't the device.

"Maybe some things are meant to stay old and broken," John says quietly.

"And how would you know if you never tried to fix it?" Cam snaps.

"Uh, guys..." Sam tries to interrupt.

"Could be that it was working just fine until you went ahead and broke the dang thing," Cam continues.

John rubs a weary hand through his hair. "And maybe some things were never meant to work in the first place."

"You know what? I think I'll go see if Rodney's up for having a late night snack," Sam says. She looks really uncomfortable as she slips from the room and that makes Cam feel all sorts of an asshole.

The room goes quiet and awkward for a long moment. "I have paperwork. Good luck with the machine." It's not often Cam's temper flares, but John has always been able to bring this out in him. He needs to leave now, before he loses it and starts yelling.

"Cam, I..." John looks like he's about to say something real, and the tension in the room rises. But John's hesitation lasts just a moment too long, just like always. "...I hope the paperwork goes well," he ends lamely.

Yeah, Cam knows this. It's like fifteen years ago all over again. John was never able to talk about feelings unless they were wrapped up in each other at 2 am with Cam wearing his collar, and even then it was a struggle. Looks like some things never change.

"See ya around, Shep," Cam says as he steps through the door. He ignores the startled look John gives him and heads straight for the gym. Cam needs a hell of a punching bag right about now.

When he gets halfway to the gym the anger bleeds away and Cam's left with this hole inside him. A hole that's the perfect size of John.

THEN

It's late, as in late-late and getting close to early, and Cam should have gone home a while ago, but John's feeling possessive tonight. Cam likes it when he's like this. They lie on John's little bed in his dorm room with the door carefully locked and Cam's clothes in easy reach.

"Mmm..." Cam hums into John's ear. He's wearing nothing but a collar that John picked up for him last weekend. It's black with a thin blue stripe sewn into the edges, the perfect match for Cam's eyes and he has to admit that he looks good in it. He looks like John's sub. Cam likes calling himself that, it feels right, like something deep inside has slid into place that he never realized he was missing before. He lies half on John, running slow hands over his naked chest all the way down to the line where his jeans start and back up again.

"Cam? I want to ask you something."

"Ask away, Master," Cam replies easily.

John pushes him onto his back, takes his wrists and pushes them over his head, then kisses him nice and slow. Cam moans and pushes up against him. "The tying up thing," John says. "How come you have that as a rule?"

Cam wasn't expecting that question. He chews on his bottom lip for a moment, choosing the right words to say. "I just don't think it's sexy I guess."

John quirks a brow at Cam's hands held above his head. "You wanna tell me the real reason?"

Cam looks at John for a long moment, weighing possible responses and what he can get away with, which is very little. He thinks of brushing the question off, making light of the situation, but John looks like he's serious about his question. "Because I can't get away if I need to," Cam says in a rush. He can feel his cheeks getting warm at his confession. It feels foolish admitting it out loud like that.

John frowns and looks into Cam's eyes, like he's searching for a reason Cam would say that. No one has ever done anything to him when he's tied up, mostly because he ended things before anything could really start. He feels helpless and too vulnerable just thinking about his hands being tied. John wraps him up in his arms, warm and safe and Cam wants to stay there forever just like this.

"Do you trust me?" John asks. He keeps his body relaxed so Cam can feel it. He starts trailing kisses down Cam's neck, over the collar and along his collar bone where he's particularly sensitive.

"Yeah," Cam replies. "Yes, Master."

John stops kissing him and looks at him properly. "I want to contest your rule about being tied up. How do you feel about that?"

Cam sucks in a breath - he knew this was coming the moment John mentioned it. He's not sure if he likes his rule being put on the chopping block. "Nervous as all hell."

John holds Cam's wrist between them, his thumb makes little circles over the jut of bone. "I want you to let me try. Just your hands, and if you don't like it we can stop, Okay?"

"I don't know..." Cam says uncertainly.

John looks at him like he's something more than a possession, like he's the only thing John ever wants to own. "If you don't think you can do this it's all right. I just think this is something you could enjoy. With me. It might even help take you down further. But only if you want to."

John kisses him again like he's a treasure and Cam has never been able to resist that. Can he really do this? He tried once or twice with others, but it never went well. Cam always fought, and it got unsexy really fast. He wants to try, but he doesn't like the idea of letting John down.

"I don't want to disappoint you," Cam mumbles.

John shakes his head with an exasperated fondness and kisses him again with a lingering sweetness. "This isn't about impressing me, Cam. This is about trust, that's all. Do you trust me?"

"Always," Cam whispers, surprised by the depth of his feelings. John keeps kissing him, trailing fingers over his skin, and Cam has never felt so cherished before. "Okay. I'll try, Master. For you," Cam says on a shaky exhale.

John's smile is dazzling and he kisses Cam sweetly. "I'm proud of you for doing this. It takes guts. Don't be afraid to use your safe word if you don't like it."

Cam nods but now that feeling of comfort and safety has ebbed away and he feels nervousness building up inside him. John gets up and off the bed, heads to the closet and unzips an orange survival kit sitting on the floor near the back. He comes up with four pieces of fabric, each of varying length. Cam's heart starts pounding in his chest, filling his ears with a heavy thudda-thudda-thudda sound and oh, God, what the hell was he thinking saying yes to this?

"Don't worry, we're gonna go slow." John drops the fabric on the end table and lies back down on the bed. He covers Cam's body with his, kisses him slowly so the rest of the universe fades away and it's just them. John wraps him up and holds him, running those big hands all over him.

John finally reaches out and brings the lengths of fabric over for Cam to see. They're two strips of back leather and two strips of silk. "You can feel them, if you want," John says. Cam sits up on one elbow and leans over to finger them both.

"I like the leather," Cam says, feeling the thick warmth of it.

"We'll use those then. I'm going to tie you to the headboard now. Okay?"

Cam stares hard at the leather in John's hands. "What if I freak out? What if I can't do this?"

John puts a single finger under his chin and tips his head back up. "Then I untie you and we talk about it. If you can't do it again, then we find other things that turn us both on."

Cam nods - he's still nervous, there's no way he wouldn't be, but John's words are soothing and make him feel safe and cared for.

John takes Cam's hand, softly kisses the palm and winds the leather around his wrist slowly. It's cool and smooth. Cam's mouth is cotton dry and every muscle is tense, but he keeps staring at John, keeps that contact. It's the only thing stopping him from freaking out. John knots one end so it's snug, but not tight. Cam will be able to move his wrist without the knot coming undone. Then John takes Cam's second wrist and presses another kiss to his palm before the other end is tied just like the first. "I'm going to tie you to the headboard now," John tells him.

Cam breathes out long and slow. He looks up at John, and croaks out a "Yeah." Maybe he's scared as hell, but John has only held him, watched him and taken care of him, so a lot of Cam's fears are getting pushed to the back of his head.

John moves molasses slow as he brings Cam's hands up to the headboard. Cam tilts his head to watch John tie him to a nail hook in the headboard hidden just below the mattress. "See? That simple."

Cam looks at the knot, sees his hands tied there and jerks them, but the leather doesn't give. His breath hitches and he jerks a little harder, this time meaning to get out of the hold and 'Jezebel' is right there, just behind his teeth when the leather holds fast.

"Keep looking at me," John orders. He kisses Cam's mouth, over and over until Cam calms down a little. He's still breathing hard, and he knows every muscle in his body is tense with the urge to just get up and run, but John, his master, the one who keeps him safe and makes him feel like he's the only thing in the universe that matters, is there holding him and keeping him safe.

"How are you doing?" John asks as he trails warm hands over Cam's triceps.

Cam feels another sharp spike of fear, but his master is so calm and confident the hysteria begins to ebb. "Master..." he murmurs, just to remind himself of who he is, and Master is there, running his hands over Cam's body again. He's still covering Cam with his body and it's grounding and safe. Cam can feel himself slipping into that head space only Master has taken him to.

"You're so brave for me. So strong," Master says, and kisses down Cam's body slow and sweet, sucking hard on each nipple with a hint of teeth so Cam has to bite his lip to keep silent. Then he sits astride Cam's thighs and stays there for a time, just looking at Cam. It's like he knows how brittle Cam feels when he's tied up like this.

"You know, one of these days I wouldn't mind taking all this hair off," Master says as he trails a finger down Cam's lower belly and to his pubes. "You'd look good bare." Cam shudders and Master's eyes become calculating. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Cam nods and tips his hips up, seeking more contact. "I could shave you, make it nice and slow, but then you'd have to deal with stubble after. It's itchy enough just on the face," his master says thoughtfully. He trails a hand along the join between hip and pelvis, barely touching the side of Cam's cock. "I could use that depilatory stuff, it would come off easily too, but it might burn you and I don't want to risk that."

Master tugs at a few pubes to get Cam's full attention. "I could wax you, too..." Cam swallows hard, can hear the sticky click in his throat. "Warm wax, and a quick, hard pull. You'd be bare for weeks before it grew back. And it would hurt a little, just the way you like it."

Cam could imagine it so well: his master preparing him, laying him down on a bed and taking each strip of hair off one by one, the hard burn as it came off, Master's soft lips kissing the sting away, and afterwards he'd be marked as his in a way no one could see but them. Cam whimpers and his hands flex, wanting to wrap his arms around his master.

Master wraps his hand around Cam's cock and gives it a few long pulls, bringing him back to full hardness. His eyes are still reading every move Cam makes, like a tiger hunting prey. "I want to do one more thing to you..." Master says.

Cam isn't able to speak very well when he goes down like this, and it's a struggle just to get a one-syllable word out. Master knows this so he leans over, kisses Cam's mouth and picks up one of the silk strips still lying on the end table. "For your cock, or for your eyes?"

Cam's eyes go wide and he stares at the strip of black silk. His hands twist uselessly in the leather binds. "Master?" he manages.

"I said," his master repeats as he trails the black fabric along Cam's chest and over his nipples. It feels smooth and sinful as it travels over his skin, warming quickly to his body temperature. "Eyes or cock. I know you like blindfolds, so you could say eyes, but your hands are tied and you won't be able to touch me. You'll have to trust me completely." The fabric slides down over Cam's cock with a feather-light touch, almost tickling and he twitches. "And I know you've played with a cock ring before, but this will be different, too. I'll have control of your cock like I've always wanted..." Master leans down and kisses Cam's cock right under the head where he's most sensitive and Cam jerks his hips up. "I might end up playing with you for hours before I let you come. If I let you come at all."

Cam hesitates. It's not that Cam doesn't trust Master, he does, but he wants, no needsto keep that little bit of control. He doesn't know what will happen if he gives it all up. He's scared he'll lose himself. Cam feels like he's seconds away from hyperventilating. Master must know a little of what's going on because he covers Cam's body so Cam is surrounded by him. Master kisses him slow and steady, with lots of tongue, grinding their cocks together. Cam can feel how hard Master is through his pants and he moans.

"It's okay if you can't do this. Just tell me if this is too much for you," Master murmurs into his skin.

"It's not that, it's..." Cam can't put it into words. He doesn't know what he needs. He needs Master to tell him, to show him. Oh, god, he feels like he's losing it-

Master suddenly covers Cam's eyes and grabs his cock at the same time. Cam's world goes dark and silent. "Do you need both?"

"Yes," Cam answers. He knows immediately that it's exactly what he needs.

"Fuck, Cam, you're such a good boy, you know that? So good." Master kisses Cam again, and there's a tenderness and gentleness to it and a depth that Master's never shown him before. As the kiss goes on, Master's hand drops away from his face, taking the blindfold with it, and Cam opens his eyes. The kiss ends and they both stay there, noses barely brushing, breathing the same air.

There's a lump in Cam's throat and a suspicious burning behind his eyes that he refuses to let loose because the way Master is looking at him isn't just trust or adoration, it's deeper than that. Cam is loved, and he wonders if Master has figured that out yet.

Master nestles between Cam's thighs, leans down and strokes Cam's cock a few more times. It makes Cam's eyes roll into the back of his head. Master always knows just the right pressure and speed to get him hard and desperate. Then Cam feels the silk being wrapped around the base of his cock and under his balls, tied off in a snug knot that isn't too tight as Master takes a long look at his handiwork. When Master first brought up the blindfold and cock ring idea Cam's erection had fled, but now Cam's balls are mashed up beside his cock, and there's a tight enough hold that his dick is perking up again.

"Pretty. I think I like you like this."

Cam chuckles a little breathlessly and it turns into a moan. Master slides up and makes Cam as relaxed as possible. "Who do you trust?" Master asks greedily.

"You," Cam says breathlessly on the edge of a whine. "Always you."

"Always me," Master confirms. "Close your eyes," he orders lovingly. He leans up with the gentlest of hands and kisses Cam's closed lids with the softest brush of lips.

Master wraps the silk over Cam's eyes, and his world goes dark again. That's when the world changes, and Cam can hear his nervous breathing sawing in and out of his lungs, feel the smooth leather rubbing along the tender parts of his wrists, smell the fabric softener Master uses. Nothing else moves. He can't see Master, doesn't know if he's gone. Cam starts to panic.

Then warm, gentle hands smooth down his sides. He can hear the whisper of fabric and Master's breath as it ghosts over his chest. His right nipple is enveloped in warm wetness and there's just enough suction for Cam to arch up, seeking more. The other gets a pinch just shy of painful, then there's a switch and the same thing is happening only on opposite sides. "You know what I see when I look at you?" Master asks, and Cam knows from the low growl that this is getting to him too. "Perfect submission." Master kisses the hollow at Cam's throat, licks away the slick of sweat gathered there.

That hot mouth trails down to his belly button, slow like a rising tide and a tongue drills softly into him, nips at the little overlap of skin there and it feels really, really good. Light, sweet kisses rain over his lower belly and Cam flexes his arms, wanting to run his fingers through dark silky hair, but he can't and a whine escapes his throat.

The hollow of his right hip gets a careful kiss, but his left gets a bite, then it turns into a delicious hot suction with more teeth. Cam wants to buck but solid hands hold him down until Master decides when enough is enough.

When he thinks he can't take anymore Master relents and pulls off, blows cool air over the skin. Cam shivers and he knows he's covered in goosebumps. Another shiver of cool air blows just over the head of his cock and he goes very still, hoping Master will lick him and suck him. He gets a single lick to his glans, then the focus slides from Cam's shaft to his balls, where Master spends a very long time tonguing them and making them hum with sensation. He slides slow, lazy hands up and down his thighs, and Cam can feel the slow tremor building under Master's skin.

Damn, he needs Master more than air and water. Cam's never been with someone who's paid this much attention to his body before, who breathes life over every inch of his skin. The white noise starts up again, and all Cam does is feel. The kisses are trailing lower to his inner, then outer thighs, calves, ankles, and even a small kiss to the sole of each foot, then warm, confident hands travel over his skin all the way up to the join of hip and leg and spreads him wide.

Cam can imagine how he looks: hands knotted above his head, neck bared and submissive, legs spread and his cock on display. The bed shifts, he hears a grating sound of wood on dry wood that must be the end table drawer opening. The bed shifts again, there's a plastic click, then cool, wet fingers trail between his legs and up the crack of his ass.

At the same time a single finger slides in, He hears a low chuckle and his cock is taken in a deft grip, held upright and then the head of his cock is surrounded by wet heat and firm suction. Cam almost bites through his bottom lip trying not to make any noise. The finger sliding in and out turns into two and when they curl inside him and hit that sensitive spot deep inside him Cam arches violently and his balls contract, but he can't come.

The two fingers turn to three and press in again hard so Cam almost sobs and then they're held there, pressing just right so he nearly sees stars. When Cam is sure he's practically in tears the fingers finally relent and slide out completely, leaving him empty and wet.

Master's mouth pulls off his cock with a wet kissing sound, and Cam's world narrows down to the relentless unresolved throbbing between his legs. The weight between Cam's legs shifts and leaves the bed, and Cam can hear the grating zip of a fly, the clink of a belt buckle as Master gets undressed. The drawer opens and closes again and Cam hears the plastic creak of a condom wrapper tearing open.

"God, look at you. I can't wait anymore." The bed dips again as Master comes back to the bed. Cam's legs are pushed to his chest and the blunt end of Master's cock presses to his hole. "Ask me for it."

"Master, please, now," Cam begs.

"Fuck," Master growls and with a hard shove he's all the way to the root and Cam is so full he's almost in tears. "Wrap your legs around me."

Cam does as he's told and fingernails drag down his chest raising red welts. Pain never feels the same when he's like this, it's just all sensation that builds beautiful pressure. Master fucks him deeply, and Cam claws at the edge of the headboard with blunt fingernails. He wonders dimly if someone can die from not coming.

Cam is drowning in sensation, and when Master pinches his nipples hard and kisses his mouth the only thing keeping Cam from surging up off the bed is Master.

Master fumbles the knot on his cock ring open and slams deep in Cam's body. "Come, boy."

Cam's body seizes up and he can feel his balls contract hard, and as he comes Master pounds into him, scratches nails over his skin, jerks his cock and there's so much of Master surrounding him that Cam feels like he's drowning. He barely hears Master's grunt of completion, the shiver-jerk stillness as he comes deep inside Cam, and only when Master's hand cups his cheek and tries to shush him does Cam realize he's sobbing. There are no tears, just dry gulps of air that he can't stop taking.

Master unties the knots at his wrists and kisses the palm of each hand just like last time, and when the blindfold comes off Cam keeps his eyes closed. He wraps his arms tight around Master's waist, and Master runs his hands soothingly over his skin until Cam can breathe normally again.

"You were beautiful, Cam. You're amazing when you let go," Master croons in his ear. With a wince, Cam feels Master slip out. He knots the condom and throws it in the trash, then pulls Cam in as close as possible. Cam feels bereft somehow. This moment is slipping away and he isn't ready for that yet.

"We have to clean up," Master says quietly. His words sound stark and loud in the silent room. Cam presses his face into Master's chest.

John wraps a hand around Cam and tugs his head up, kisses him softly and soundly. "Come back, Cam."

Cam shakes his head, pleading with his eyes. He's not ready for the rest of the yet, just a little longer.

"It's okay, I'm here, but you have to come back a little."

Cam shudders a breath and his hands clench on John's waist. "Master... that was..." Cam swallows thickly. He wants to tell him thank you, to tell him how much and how deeply he was taken, but no words come out.

"Yeah, I know. Me too." his master agrees quietly and wraps Cam up in warm, strong arms.

NOW

John stares down at the washed out evening colors of Colorado Springs. He gives it about another hour before the sun sinks and the distant, thriving city lights up for the night.

He kicks a few pebbles from under his feet as he leans on the hood of his car. His hands are loose fists in the pockets of his jacket. He's always found it peaceful up here on the bluff that overlooks Colorado Springs, and peace is one thing he's having a hard time finding these days.

The crunch of gravel and a set of lights alert him that someone else is driving by, and John's hope that they keep going tips into annoyance as the car slows, parks right beside his, and turns off.

"Well, it's better than drinking your sorrows away in some god forsaken back room of a questionable establishment," Rodney mutters as he gets out of his car.

"What do you want, McKay?" John asks wearily without turning around.

"To find out what's going on with you so we can get back to working on the drones like we're supposed to. O'Neill and the IOA are riding my ass over the calculations, and I for one would like to give him some kind of positive response sooner rather than later."

John finally turns to him. Rodney is still wearing his SGC uniform, which means John's cover story that he was on a hunt for a specific xenobiology paper one of the other scientists wrote was a bust and someone ratted him out. Most likely Sam or Felger since they're the only ones who knew he left. "And I will work on them. I just need a minute."

Rodney huffs. "You've had a minute. In fact, you've had, like, an hour. What is with you these days? Is it because of that Mitchell guy?"

"Drop it, Rodney," John warns.

Rodney's eyes go wide. "It is, isn't it? What did he do, run over your dog or something?"

"I said drop it," John orders. The last thing he wants is to spill out all his fuck ups with Mitchell to Rodney, the man who can't keep a personal secret to save his life.

Rodney has never been good at taking orders, either. "He didn't actually do that, did he?"

"What?" John asks.

"Run over your dog!" Rodney repeats slowly, like he's talking to a simpleton.

John sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "No, there was no dog."

"Well then you should just go talk to him. I'm sure whatever he did, you guys can work through it eventually."

"I'm not good with that whole talking thing." John reminds Rodney. "Besides, I think I've done enough damage for one lifetime already."

"Then maybe you just need to apologize," Rodney says with a hint of that all knowing arrogance and it grates on John's nerves.

"And when was the last time you did something like that?" John asks. Rodney shrugs uncomfortably and refuses to look him in the eye. John shakes his head and turns back to the sunset. "It's something I need to handle, Rodney. Let me deal with it my way."

"I have been, and look where it's gotten you. Sheppard, you're on a mountain as far away from human contact as possible," Rodney points out, which is patently untrue since Rodney is right here beside him. "Is yours and Mitchell's past so bad that you can't even work around him?"

John opens his mouth to tell him, and the answer is right there on the tip of his tongue, but the words feel stilted and wrong, just like always. John turns back to the fading sunset and shrugs. "It was a long time ago, but some fuckups change lives." He glances up at Rodney, who looks shocked. "All the time in the universe can't fix something like that."

THEN

"Oh come on," Cam says with a laugh. The evening air is cool and refreshing, and the rush hour traffic that passes them by as they walk down the street from the theater is finally dying down. "You're telling me the explosions weren't good enough? They blew up an entire building!"

"And we didn't see a single mushroom cloud!" Mack argues. "Come on, who's with me on this one?" Mack asks as he turns around to face the group of guys.

Simon shrugs. "I wasn't paying much attention to that. Did you see those stunts with the chopper? Someone had to fly that sucker between skyscrapers!"

"That was pretty cool," John concedes. "Point for the chopper, but minus for the half-assed explosion. Sorry, Cam."

Cam shakes his head mournfully. "Traitor. I still think it's good."

"Hey," Mack says and points to one of the bars lining the street. "After a mediocre movie, who wants to find their leading lady?"

Cam tries not to groan. One thing's for sure, Mack has one hell of a one-track mind.

"I'm in," Barcozzi says immediately, and so do a few of the other guys.

Cam schools his face into mild disappointment. "Wish I could, boys, but I have a test come Monday, and I want to pass it."

"I'm kinda bagged, too," John says.

The guys make a show of trying to get them to come, but Cam and John make a united front talking about school work and are finally deemed to be hopeless cases and allowed to go home. Cam tries to ignore the feeling of eyes burning into the back of his head as they walk towards campus.

"You know, I think your roommate has a thing for you or something," John says when they've walked a few blocks.

"What, Simon?" Cam asks. "He's a little overprotective, but I don't think he's like that."

John rolls his eyes. "You keep telling yourself that." John takes a surreptitious look around. It's late, and they're walking down one of the more residential areas of the city so not many people are out. "If I had you as a roommate, we'd never leave the room."

"Well then it's a good thing we're in different buildings," Cam jokes.

John pulls him into a space between two houses and pushes him up against a brick wall. "I've wanted to do this all night," he says, and without further ado takes Cam's wrists, holds them above his head and kisses the daylights out of him.

Cam loves it when John's being toppy like this and kisses back with enthusiasm. Cam's never been with someone who takes over his senses, and John seems to do it effortlessly. When they finally break apart Cam chases after John's mouth. "Greedy," John says, and Cam smiles widely.

"For you, Master? Always," Cam replies.

John finally lets him go and pushes him out from between the buildings. "Come on, I'm pretty sure we have a few hours before the guys get back to campus. I want you tied up and begging before that happens."

Cam tries to keep his cock from tearing a hole in his jeans. "You really know how to sweet talk a guy, Master."

When they get back to the dorms Cam goes to his room to pick up one of John's textbooks. They both really do have some tests they need to study for, but when Cam unlocks the door Simon is right there sitting at his desk looking fresh as a daisy and Cam gets suspicious. He hopes fervently that Simon wasn't following them. "Um... hey. I thought you went to the bar with the guys?" he asks.

Simon shrugs. "I thought about it, but it just didn't seem like my scene," he says.

Cam goes straight for the textbook on his desk and makes a show of picking up a few more books. "Well, John and I are gonna head to his room and do some studying, so..."

Simon leans back in his chair, going for nonchalant but his eyes are tracking Cam's every move just a little too sharply. "Yeah, I kinda figured. Hey, do me a favor and try not to sleep there too much. If that keeps happening people are gonna talk."

Cam smirks. "That happened once when I forgot my keys," he says as he stuffs books into a backpack. Which is kind of true - he didn't have his keys. No one needs to know that he forgot them on purpose. "What's wrong, getting jealous that I'm spending time with other people?"

Simon flushes and looks away, which makes the uncomfortable atmosphere rise a few more degrees. "I'm just trying to be a friend," he mutters.

It makes Cam kind of feel like an asshole. "All right," Cam relents. "I wasn't planning on staying there anyways. Like I said," Cam lifts up the backpack, "just studying. I'll be back in a few hours."

Cam closes the door to a dejected and strangely determined Simon and heads over to John's building. They don't end up fooling around; Cam is too wound up for that. Instead, John tells him to strip and put on the collar, and he spends the evening with his head in his master's lap as John runs gentle fingers through Cam's hair and reads out loud from one of Cam's textbooks that he needs to study. The whole time, all Cam can think of is how lucky he is to have someone who takes care of him so thoroughly.

The rest of the weekend passes in a blur of papers and text books and re-reading old tests because this particular instructor isn't above throwing in questions on obscure stuff they've been over and tested on earlier in the semester.

When Cam finally leaves the class he's sure he's failed. Positive in fact. Okay, question sixteen is a maybe. But he knows for damn sure that he got questions twenty-four, thirty-seven and thirty-eight wrong. And what the hell was with that essay at the end?

He's gonna have to explain to Mama why he got such a bad grade and that's the last thing he ever wants to do. Cam is so wrapped up in his head that he doesn't notice the buzz in the halls until he meets a few of his friends milling about in one of the main hallways.

"-telling you it's him," Barcozzi says with a faint sneer of distaste.

Mack looks disturbed. "And to think, we actually hung out with the guy."

"Hung out with who?" Cam asks.

Mack and Barcozzi both blink at him, then their eyes trail away and Cam doesn't know what's going on, but he knows it can't be good.

Mack sighs. "One of the upperclassmen got caught. Kissing another guy."

All the air whooshes out of Cam's chest and he feels dizzy. "Holy shit," He says with feeling.

"It gets worse," Barcozzi says and Cam is starting to get a horrible, knowing feeling in his gut.

Mack puts a hand on his shoulder. "We hung out with him." His hand slides away too quickly with a worried look over his shoulder. There's already one guy caught out, and Mack doesn't want to make it two.

Shock shoots through Cam and he says through numb lips, "Sheppard." He's the only upperclassmen in their group.

"Cam, wait!" Mack yells, but Cam is already off and running to the dorms. He pushes through small groups of people hanging around and chatting and doesn't stop until he gets to John's door. He doesn't even knock, just flings himself through it.

Cam stops dead with his hand still on the doorknob. The two pictures of Apache choppers flying in the sunset are off the walls, the end table is cleared of John's things, even the desk looks empty and stripped. There are two bags sitting against the wall under the window and a suitcase is open on the bed, almost full and with John standing over it, a folded black shirt in his hands, frozen in mid air.

"It's true, isn't it?" Cam asks breathlessly.

John's eyes look empty. "I was told by the Dean that activities such as the ones I take part in are against the regulations of this fine establishment."

Cam closes the door and slides slowly down until he sits on the floor in a heap. John puts the shirt in the suitcase and goes to the desk, where he picks up a manila folder and tosses it at Cam. With a questioning look, Cam opens it. Large pictures fall out, and Cam sucks in a deep, unsteady breath.

Because there's John pushing another guy up against a brick wall, his wrists held just above his head so the camera doesn't get a good shot of his face, but John is in perfect profile. Cam swallows. In the next picture John is kissing him open mouthed and possessive, and the only part of Cam's face that's showing is the tip of his nose and a bare hint of his jaw.

There are two more pictures, much the same as the first, and with a queasy rolling in Cam's stomach he stuffs them back in the envelope with trembling hands.

"The Dean said that if it was only hearsay I could have stayed. It was the pictures that did me in," John says, quiet and defeated.

"Look, there's gotta be a way-"

"There isn't," John says tiredly, and stuffs another shirt into the suitcase.

"Well then...I'll just have to tell the Dean who else is in these pictures." Cam's hands are trembling. He can only imagine the mess he'd be in if he went home and told his family that he got kicked out because of this, but he can't do it without John.

"You do that and I'll kill you," John says without heat. Cam looks up and John is staring brokenly into his suitcase. "You're meant to fly, Cam." John says as he lifts his eyes to Cam's. "Don't ruin that for me."

"You can't go, not without me!" Cam shouts, grabbing John by his shirt and kissing him. It tastes like defeat and Cam can feel a burn behind his eyes that he refuses to acknowledge as tears.

But John, always the cool and in control one, ends the kiss and puts his hands softly over Cam's. "Cam," he says with the gentle kindness that he's always used. "You have to let go."

"The hell I do!" Cam snarls but he's already unwinding his fingers from John's shirt.

And damn it, letting go of John hurts. His chest, his eyes, his goddamn heart. Cam's never felt anything like this before. "Cam, listen, you can't-" John looks like he's holding back tears. He probably is because Cam knows how badly John wants to fly. "You can't stay in this room. People are going to start talking."

"I don't care, Master. All I care about is-"

"I can't be that to you anymore," John says flatly.

Cam's mouth hangs open on half formed words but no sound comes out. John can't possibly mean that, can he? "Look, I know you're frustrated-"

"No, you don't!" John yells, the first real emotion that Cam's seen since he got here. "You don't get it at all, Cam! Just...get the fuck out of here. Don't come back, either!"

"You don't mean that," Cam says, stricken.

John looks up with a dangerous determination. "Yes, I do. You're not my sub anymore, starting now." John throws the last of his clothes into his suitcase and zips it up with hands that don't tremble.

"Mast...John," Cam pleads. "Please...don't do this."

John turns his back on Cam and places the suitcase down with the other two bags. "Goodbye, Cam," he says, and there's a finality in the words that breaks Cam's heart.

"I might go, but I won't say that," Cam replies angrily. He yanks open the door and slams it shut behind him, catching a few curious looks from some people in the hall. He's so mad and so hurt that he doesn't care about what they think. He just knows he needs to go.

Cam walks the paths all the other students have made over the years, little shortcuts from the mess to the science buildings, and from the main hall to the dorms, and all the other less-used ones. As he walks he wonders how many others have had this problem in the past. How many intelligent, strong, brave men and women have been denied their right to serve their country simply because they want to be with someone of the same gender.

How many of them weren't kicked out but run out? How many more didn't make it out at all? Cam's never really called himself gay - it's a word used to explain other people. He's just Cam, a guy who likes John. Really, really likes John and he doesn't get why that should be such a big deal. He skips his next two classes; it's the first time he's done it here. He just can't concentrate. When he's walked every path and his legs start to ache he heads back to his room.

Where Simon is. Cam gets a different kind of sinking feeling in his gut.

When Cam steps through the door Simon is sitting on his own bed with his back against the headboard and a thoughtfully schooled mask of sad sympathy. Cam walks right past him, yanks open Simon's desk drawer and finds the camera he remembers seeing now and again. He pops the back hiding the film, and look at that, it's a brand new roll. "Cam! What the fuck are you doing?"

"Is that what you were doing that night? Following us with your camera?" Cam asks. He takes a handful of black, shining film and yanks it so hard the spool goes flying and the film strip snaps in two, but not after being exposed to the light.

"Look, someone needed to do something about him. He's a disgrace to the uniform, and the faster you get that, the better!" Simon snaps.

"You don't like fags, is that it?" Cam asks.

Simon glares. "I don't give a crap about that. We have a real chance here."

"A chance? A chance at what?" Cam asks incredulously.

Simon shakes his head and gets up from the bed. "You know my dad's a Colonel, right?"

Cam is starting to feel dizzy. "What does that have anything to do about this?"

"Dad and his best friend, Robert - I call him uncle Rob because they're so close. They were roommates in their Academy days and they're still friends now. We have a chance of going through this whole thing together, being just like them. I have an obligation." Simon says like it's a rehearsed speech, something he's heard since he was young.

"I can't have this friendship with the other guys. For one, they're not as smart as you, and lets face it, some of the guys won't even stick around in the Air Force long enough. But you, I can do this with. Don't you get it, Cam? We could be just like them, friends through thick and thin, flying together, being each others best man at our weddings, the whole thing."

Simon's looking at him in that weird way of his again and Cam thinks he finally gets it. A day late and a goddamn dollar short. "You wanna be just like daddy."

"I did what I had to do so you could come to your senses. Now you can concentrate on the things that matter, like flying and hanging out with some good, normal people." Simon says it like he's talking to a particularly dumb student.

"You don't have a right to tell me how to live!" Cam snaps. Simon's face twists angrily and Cam is utterly fed up. He doesn't want to listen to the bullshit response Simon's sure to make. He goes to the window, opens it and chucks the camera out their fourth floor room.

"What the fuck, Cam! That thing was top of the line! You owe me a new one," Simon says. His face is flushed bright pink.

"And you owe me a man's future in the air force. Looks like there's two things that ain't happening today."

NOW

Rodney doesn't have people skills, so if he's talking to John about his personal relationships John knows with the certainty and loudness of a flashing red klaxon that something's very wrong. The problem is, John really isn't sure how to make things right again, so he does his level best to put his nose in his work and concentrate only on that. His work with Rodney picks up again, and they actually make a few breakthroughs, which feels really good. John was starting to worry his brain had melted, with all this drama.

But John notices that he's watching the door, hoping that one familiar face will grace his doorway. Which is stupid, really. He knows Cam doesn't want to see him and there isn't a whole lot he he feels able to say, either. Well, nothing good, anyways. John burned that bridge a long time ago. But he forgot how addictive Cam was. After almost a week of waiting for Cam to walk past, John's starting to feel a little... well, not depressed but not all that happy either, and he has no idea how to fix that. It's not a tool or an algorithm that he can pick apart, and he knows that if he tries to pick at this dilemma the answer will be a tall, blue eyed Colonel in the US Air Force.

"You know, when I heard Dr. Colewood say you were moping I laughed and told her that I didn't believe her," Rodney tells him from his office door one evening. But I might owe her fifty bucks. What is with you these days, Sheppard? I thought you got over all that Mitchell stuff."

John's starting to worry that he'll never get over all that Mitchell stuff. "Bit of a headache," he replies vaguely. He rubs the back of his neck with his hand. It isn't all that far from the truth.

"But you're feeling fine other than that, right? No sniffles or aches or weird alien rashes?" Rodney asks with a hint of wide-eyed concern.

Oh, he missed this. John makes a show of stretching his neck and feeling his normal-temperature forehead. "You know, maybe I'm not feeling so hot after all. Sorry about that."

Rodney narrows his eyes to a laser beam stare. "You don't apologize. What did you do?"

John looks at him with all the innocence he can conjure. "I may have used your coffee cup. A few times."

"I knew it!" Rodney yelps and takes off for the infirmary like a fire was lit under him, dodging past Cam, who's standing in the doorway wearing a pair of dark jeans, a ribbed dove gray sweater that makes his eyes nearly glow, and a black jacket.

"You got some serious skills if you can make that man run from your office."

John's more than a little shocked that Cam's standing there talking to him of his own accord. "It's a talent."

"You got some time? Because I think we need to talk." Cam looks determined and John remembers when Cam used to look like that all those long years ago.

John swallows down an emotion that feels a lot like regret and checks his watch. "Well, I was technically off an hour ago. Where did you want to do this?"

Cam lifts off from leaning against the door jamb. "Follow my car? I don't think we should do it here."

No, John would imagine that's the last thing Cam wants. DADT may have been repealed earlier this year, but that doesn't mean their big, gay drama needs to be splashed all over the SGC. They've done that enough already.

He stops by the locker room to change into a pair of chinos and the black polo shirt he wore to work, throws on his jacket then heads above ground where he climbs into his car. He isn't surprised to see Cam drive slowly by him in a classic red mustang. That car is a beauty to behold right there: Cam always did have good taste in cars.

It's almost summer in Colorado and the air is cool with a bite of ozone. John looks up; the clouds are thick, low and full of rain. He hopes they have this conversation inside somewhere because he's never been one for getting soaked. His hope dwindles when Cam pulls into a deserted parking lot in front of an equally deserted park and climbs out of his car to lean on the hood. Damn SGC gate teams, you could throw a blizzard at them and they'd be ready for tea.

John had almost forgotten how beautiful Cam is. He tries to ignore those long legs and muscled arms, stepping out of his car and up to Cam.

"So?" John asks.

"So," Cam parrots.

"You... wanted to talk?" John asks. God, but this feels awkward.

"Sam said we need to work this out. Problem is, I don't know if there's much to say," Cam says, looking a little mulish.

"Yeah, I got a similar one. From Rodney."

"Ouch." Cam winces. Looks like Rodney's gift for people has reached everyone at the SGC. "Here's what I'm thinking," Cam says. A raindrop hits the back of John's neck. "We don't need to start talking about our feelings and all that crap. You've never been real good at that in the first place."

"Sometimes," John mumbles. Cam gives him a look and John tilts his head away for a moment. It's not entirely true. He's able to talk about them, but only right after a scene.

"And we don't have to start yelling at each other like we did before in the labs," Cam says.

"Mostly you," John says. At Cam's scowl he adds. "But sometimes me, too." He can feel a few light raindrops stir his hair.

"The idea," Cam says, looking like he's striving for patience, "is to keep things professional between us. You think we can do that?"

It's starting to rain and John hunches his shoulders and pulls his jacket closer around him. "It's gonna be hard sometimes, but yeah, I think we can."

Cam nods, but he has a look that makes John stop. "Just tell me one thing, and none of your Sheppard bullshit responses, but the truth. Why?"

"The truth?" John asks with a serious lack of enthusiasm. "You sure you want to talk about this now?" He puts a hand up to catch the drops of rain in demonstration. Five more minutes and the bottom's going to drop out of the sky. He doesn't want to be here when it happens.

Cam crosses his arms over his chest and looks like he could wait forever. Probably picked that up from him back in the day.

John sighs heavily. "Because one career was already ruined, Cam."

"But it was my choice!" Cam snaps, looking angry.

"Well, it was mine too. Look at you - a full bird Colonel. You think that would have happened if you and I kept seeing each other?" John asks.

"We'll never know. And that's the part that sucks. You threw something real important away, John," Cam says, and damn, the betrayal in those blue eyes breaks John's heart all over again. Cam looks like he's about to get into his car, and John doesn't want him to go thinking that it was Cam's career that made him stop.

John reaches out and puts his hands on Cam's arms. "And...it was..." Oh, fuck but he hates doing this. "You were still there, learning all that stuff I wanted to, and I couldn't. Cam, I wanted to fly. Being with you...it would've been like a constant reminder of all the things I couldn't have and I would have hated you for that." John strokes Cam's arms with his thumbs.

"It broke your heart," Cam says, looking stricken and a little guilty. "Damn it, John, you could have at least told me that."

"Like you said, I'm not...good with this stuff." John replies uncomfortably.

"And what about now?" Cam asks softly. He's closer than he was before. "Do I still break your heart?"

You break my heart with loving you, John wants to say, but his feelings never come out right, and besides, his throat is closing up with all this emotion and he can't get the words out anyway. He pulls Cam tight into his arms, runs his hands through Cam's hair, just like he used to.

Cam's arms wrap around his waist and he hangs on like he might fall off the edge of the world and presses his head into that spot between John's neck and shoulder that he always used to love nuzzling. The bottom finally drops out of the sky with cold pounding rain and John's getting soaked through to the bone, but he doesn't care.

"I missed you. So much," Cam mumbles. John can hear the heartbreak in his cracking voice and all he can do is hold tighter.

"Me too," John murmurs into Cam's ear.

Cam lifts his head, wraps his hands into John's jacket and pulls him in. When John's lips meet his, it feels like coming home all over again. John slides his hands gently, ever so gently on either side of Cam's face and deepens the kiss, tasting heartbreak and sadness and sweet, sweet hope.

John pushes forward slightly, and Cam goes without a fight until he's lying on the hood of his car with John draped over him, and the moan that shudders on his lips brings out every dominant instinct in John. He takes Cam's hands in his, pushes them just above his head and looks down. The droplets of rain darken Cam's hair and dampen his face, but his lips are swollen, his cheeks are flushed, and those eyes look at John like he's the only thing in this world.

"Yours, Master," Cam whispers.

"Always, Cam. Always mine."

~Epilogue~

One Year Later.

Cam drops his pack to the floor and opens the flap to make one last check. Yeah, he's being a little retentive about it, but this is Big. As in once in a lifetime Big and there's no way he's gonna end up freaking out in a few hours because he forgot something.

"Will you quit with that?" John asks. His pack is by his feet on the gate room floor, where it will most likely stay until it absolutely must be picked up.

"I just want to be sure," Cam replies.

"He's almost as bad as that Rodney lad," a man with a Scottish burr says. Cam looks up at one of the medical doctors standing beside John who's wearing a smirk.

"Funny, doc. Real funny," Cam says sarcastically. "Just remember, I'm supposed to be protecting you."

The man - Becker? Beckett? - sobers up quickly. "Sorry, Colonel."

Cam smiles widely and claps Beckett on the back. "Relax, man, I ain't gonna bite."

"Don't believe him," John stage whispers.

"Hey! You wanna start sleeping on the couch?" Cam asks.

John shakes his head. "We don't even know if there are couches on the other side."

Hmm - John has a point. That nervous shiver of energy washes through Cam again. Pegasus galaxy; it's one hell of an opportunity. At least that's what Daniel said at some length when they first unlocked the gate coordinates and figured out how to get the thing working.

Cam looks up at the command room and across at the man in question. Daniel's standing by General O'Neill with his arms crossed looking a little like his favorite toy just got snatched from his fingers. Everyone knows Daniel's O'Neill's right hand man. Remove Daniel, and part of O'Neill goes too.

The team had a going away party for them a few days ago at his and John's shared apartment. Teal'c clasped his arm like a warrior, Sam hugged them both and smiled through watery eyes, and Daniel was the king of cool until the end when he hugged Cam at the door for what seemed like forever. Cam's gonna miss Daniel. Miss Sam, too. Hell, he's gonna miss all of them and he knows it. But it's worth it. Once the Atlantis Expedition was a go, John got a golden ticket aboard that train because of his genes, and John's Cam's home. Wherever John goes, so does he.

It was a close call between Cam or Colonel Sumner leading the military side of the expedition, but Cam has a feeling the General had something to do with Cam winning out in the end.

After he closes up his pack Cam does one more full check on the equipment and foodstuffs they're bringing. The priority boxes are at the front, with marines guarding the sensitive equipment, and Cam has to walk for a good while down the hall to get to the end of the line.

"So, sir, ready to rock and roll?" A young marine asks.

"I was born ready, Ford. Didn't anyone tell you that?" Cam asks.

"No sir, but it's good to know," Ford replies. He looks excited and a little nervous.

When Cam's finally done one last equipment check he steps into the control room where Dr. Weir, O'Neill and Daniel are talking quietly. "Ma'am, we're about as ready as we're gonna get."

Dr. Weir breathes in sharply and looks excited. "Do me one favor, Colonel, don't call me ma'am."

"Yes ma'am," Cam responds automatically. Personally, he doesn't mind calling her anything she likes, but it's good for all that chain of command stuff. People need to hear him call her that, even if it's only for a little while.

Weir raises a brow in his direction, and O'Neill's smiling like he knows what Cam's doing, which wouldn't surprise Cam one bit.

"So, sounds like everything's ready," Weir says.

O'Neill nods. "You wanna do the honors?"

Dr Weir turns with wide-eyed exhilaration to Walter. "Dial the gate."

"Yes, Dr. Weir." Walter gives Cam a smarmy sideways glance as he starts typing away. The little suck-up.

"Cam? It's been a slice. Try not to lose too many pairs of pants in Pegasus," The general says and sticks out his hand. Cam takes it in a firm grip.

"I'll try to keep that in mind," Cam replies drily.

"Cam," Daniel says woodenly.

"Daniel," Cam replies. A moment passes before he hauls him into one last hug. "Take care of yourself. For me."

Daniel nods, his eyes suspiciously bright and Cam comes down the stairs just as Weir is finishing her very lovely speech.

He makes his way through the crowds to the ramp just as the gate kawooshes, and he stands shoulder to shoulder with Dr. Weir as the activated gate shimmers behind him and the MALP goes through. They must look a sight indeed.

"I want to give you all one last chance to back out. No one will think less of you for it," She tells the assembled expedition members.

Cam searches the crowd and finds John, that cheesy smirk plastered on his face as he listens. When John meets his eyes the smirk fades, and the smile becomes real. There's no backing out for them - they made that decision a while ago.

"Dr. Weir? You have a go," General O'Neill says through the speakers.

She turns to him with a breathless little smile. "Ready to start the rest of your life?"

He let's her walk ahead a little so she's the first one through apart from the marines. Only by a hairsbreadth, but still. "I already did that," Cam says quietly. He thinks of John, his Master, his lover and the home of his heart walking behind him, smiles, and steps through the wormhole.

~End~