My deepest and most sincerest of apologies, especially to those few of you who might still be following this story.

Between my accident and other such things life tends to throw my way, I lost my motivation for this story. I also apologize for any mishaps, I tried to eliminate them all, but in my haste to finally give you an update, I might have overlooked something.

However, today I was struck with this and I will give fare warning, this bit gives into the M rating of this story.

I stared up at the ceiling, my mind continuously replaying Saturday night.

I listened as the door creaked open and shut with a soft click, soft footsteps cross the room to me and I felt the bed dip from the weight of the body that was sitting on its edge.

"Rodney?"

My breath caught and I swear my heart fluttered—though I'd never admit such things occurred. I snapped my eyes open and looked up at the man looking down at me.

"Hi."

He reached up and scratched the back of his neck and I could only nod a greeting in return.

"I'm sorry."

I sat up at those two words; making us separated by only a few inches. Our eyes locked and I knew, I knew everything he wanted to say to me, but he couldn't because he was so emotionally stunted and proud to admit such things. I did the only thing my mind would let me process—I closed the distance and pressed my lips to his.

It took him a nanosecond to respond, pressing himself into me, his hands grasping on my biceps and a slight growl erupted from within. One of my hands rested on his thigh, the other reaching up to cling to his shirt, to pull it tight and relish in the knowledge that this was actually happening.

His tongue danced along my bottom lip, careful of the nip Evan left behind. I knew he could taste Evan on my lips; he'd taste even more of him when he managed to coax my mouth open. It would anger him, make him so jealous—oh my god what am I doing? I pulled back and caught my breath.

His lips glistened with the slight sheen of saliva; I wanted nothing more than to divulge in them once more. His eyes narrowed at my hesitation to speak, he knew what I was going to say, he wasn't stupid. He spoke first.

"I meant it you know, waiting forever for you. And you're right, I should let you move on, but I haven't Rodney. I can't."

"You're engaged and you can't be here. I, I shouldn't have done that, I'm sorry, I just…I couldn't help myself."

He pushed me away, standing to his feet. He ran his hands through his hair, one moving down to the back of his neck.

"Dammit Rodney! I told you once before, you don't get to make decisions about how I feel, you have no right. If I tell you I'm still in love with you, then dammit I'm still in love with you, got it!"

He started pacing and I could only sit there in silence—there were plenty of things I wanted to say but words wouldn't form.

"Do you have ANY idea what that did to me, coming here, barging in, expecting you to be alone and I find Evan—of all people—on your bed? Do you?"

He stopped and simply stared at me; his actions finally catching up to him. I felt like that stupid, lost little boy I was the day of my high school graduation. Like I was sixteen and wanting nothing more for the man in front of me to accept my stupidity and just hold me to him like he used to.

I nodded.

"It felt just how I did when I realized just who Nancy was."

I fell backwards onto my bed, draping an arm over my eyes, fighting off that stinging of unshed tears again. His footsteps shuffled closer to me and I felt the bed dip with his weight; warmth covered me and I realized he was straddling me. One of his hands reached out and moved my arm, pinning it above my head as he leant over me.

He was fighting himself over something, but before I could figure anything out anger and jealousy filled his eyes and his fingers tightened their grip on my forearm. He pressed his groin into mine, the stirrings of an erection pressed down on me and I gasped. My eyes widened as I looked up at him and he simply stared.

"This is what you wanted right, a meaningless fuck. Who better to give you want you want than me, I would've been who you were thinking of. Evan's beautiful, sure, he has good stamina too, he'd have given you a good time, but you'd be with him to forget me."

I bit my lip as he continuously rolled his hips into mine, my own erection stirring—forcing myself to accept that it was only from stimulation. Not the man above me, being forceful, something he's never been with me before. Pushing my thoughts away I reached up with my free hand and clutched the neck of his shirt and pulled him down, pressing my lips to his.

He groaned as he moved his lips with mine, opening up at the slightest hint of my tongue on his lips. I finally rolled my hips up into his and gasped into his mouth. I had forgotten what it truly felt like to have him above me.

I tossed the pillow beneath my head at the wall, its soft flop a huge disappointment in fit of anger. I was aroused from remembering being with John one more time. Biting my lip I reached down and started to rub myself through my pants—this is the best I'm going to get, especially after what I did.

Never again would I feel his lips on mine, his fingertips brush against my skin, or have him fill me in only a way he can. I reached beneath my waist, letting my fingers creep through my pants and the elastic band of my boxers and curl around myself. Tugging and squeezing; I'm pathetic.

His left hand was hot and heavy against my thigh while his right hand was clenched in mine. Every thrust into my body rocked us in sync; I clenched my muscles around him, his head dropped to mine, resting his forehead against mine. Our eyes locked on each other's, telling the other what we couldn't—wouldn't—admit out loud. His breath hitched and I knew he was close, four more thrusts and he erupted within me, that familiar—and desperately missed—sting of warmth. He never had to touch me, his orgasm usually sent me over and this time was no different. As he rode out his orgasm, his body unwilling to stop its movements, my own release erupted, spattering our stomachs.

The fingers entwined with my own squeezed and he finally closed his eyes. His breath, hot, harsh and ragged fluttered across my lips. He held me through my tremors, the hand on my thigh slipping up towards the mess I made. Fingers spreading the sticky mess as his hips finally slowed to a stop. His eyes opened and he pressed his lips to mine. I closed my eyes and responded, my free hand running up his back to the nape of his neck and grabbing on, to hold him there.

Our mouths remained connected as he slowly softened inside of me, his weight slowly settling down on top of me; his fingertips, the cum covered ones, slowly tracing odd patters along my cheek and jaw line.

As we lay there, entwined in a way only lovers can—"That was fun, let's not do it again." I held my emotions back as his gaze hardened above me, he quickly—slightly painfully despite his softness—removed himself from me. I watched with nonchalance as he quickly threw his clothes back on, haphazardly.

I let the tears finally fall as I fisted my sheet, my self-induced orgasm, now a drying sticky mess in my pants. I couldn't bring myself to move; still glad it was Sunday night and that I didn't have to be at work as early tomorrow morning. I shifted, curling myself into the fetal position; my loneliness finally making its presence known.

After some time my phone interrupted my blank wall staring; I reached out for it and glanced at the name—Teyla. I hit ignore, knowing the repercussions I would face. Of course he'd have gone to her and told her everything. I threw my phone at the wall, its thud and resounding thump as it landed on the carpet offered the smallest amount of relief.