Anna S. (eliade) wrote,
Anna S.
eliade

John/Rodney: grief, late, cold for rositamia

Desire at its worst could be a kind of physical grief, a miserable ache concentrated in the most sensitive areas of the body; there was a reason it was called hunger.

Even though it was late and cold, he ghosted through the city corridors until he found John standing on one of the balconies, watching the dark waves like a sentinel alert to invasion by sea.

"Come to bed," he said imperiously, cutting into the soft fabric of the evening and into whatever thoughts John was punishing himself with, and then waited until the other man turned and spoke to him with steady gaze and twitching eyebrows, his rumpled hair like an illegible signature of resignation.

Clearly I am very bored and useless at work today.
Tags: fic 2005, flashfic 2005, sga fic
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