• Mood: sleepy

This is how it would have gone if I had written it...

A little ficlet for mmmchelle, who is stressed-out and working way too hard.






She had known John was coming. It had been foretold. She had seen him in her mind--a handsome man, with dark hair and eyes, body narrow and long like the grasses in the field. He would come, with his quiet, gentle ways, and he would save them from the beast. She had known this since childhood.

He would come to her, and together, they would achieve ascension.

What she hadn't foreseen was the other one. The loud one. The one who never stopped talking, never stopped questioning. The one who complained about the food they shared with him, the one who refused to meditate (I can already do amazing things with my mind, thank you very much), the one who made her little sister cry.

The one who was not ready for ascension. Who might not ever be.

Together, John and McKay constantly sought escape, not enlightenment. McKay would talk of power sources and field generators, hands waving wildly, and would John nod in agreement. They would disappear into the woods for hours, forsaking the safety of the cloister.

John did not realize he was on the wrong path. It was up to her to change that.

So one morning, as Teer made a simple breakfast, she looked to John's hut. The shutters were drawn, and she thought maybe John was still in bed. She decided she would bring him breakfast, so she could talk to him, alone, without the other one who would interrupt and argue, then ultimately dismiss her. She was the only one who could make John understand who he was and why he was here with them.

She used her mind to see past the walls of John's hut, checking to see if he had arisen.

John had not. He was still in bed, but he wasn't alone.

McKay was with him.

McKay with him, and they were naked, both of them. Naked and in a fierce embrace, legs entwined, John's narrow hips pressing against McKay's body. His hands cupped McKay's face and John was kissing him as if the path to enlightenment could somehow be found in his body.

Teer looked away, shocked. She dropped the breakfast tray and ran from her hut into the fields. She needed to meditate on this, she needed to understand why one had been foretold but the not the other. She needed to think deeply on it. Dropping to her knees, she closed her eyes, emptying her mind her mind and waiting for understanding.

Then she looked back. Just to make sure she had seen properly the first time.

They were still naked. Laying face to face, entirely wrapped up in each other--John's leg slung over McKay's hip, arms wrapped around McKay's shoulders, his head tucked against McKay's neck. McKay had one hand down between John's legs, stroking steadily, shoulder muscles flexing and John rocked his hips in time with McKay's strokes.

It was fascinating, and it was beautiful, two bodies fitting together so perfectly, one golden and lean, the other broad and pale. Teer kept watching as John closed his eyes and tightened his grip on McKay, hands curling into fists against the center of McKay's back. His body twisted and he pushed himself at McKay as if he wasn't yet close enough, straining and shoving with his hips while McKay held steady, immovable as always. Then John shuddered violently, open mouth pressed against McKay's skin to muffle his cries.

John relaxed at last, releasing his hold on McKay and rolling back against the pillows, eyes heavy-lidded and sleepy. McKay followed with gentle kisses, rubbing his nose into John's beard. John laughed, and McKay smiled at him with a sweetness Teer would not have thought him capable of.

And then she understood. Maybe. She couldn't be certain, though. Not yet, anyway. So, as she watched John lift his legs onto McKay's shoulders, sliding down on the pillows and tucking his backside into McKay's lap, she settled in and made herself comfortable for continued enlightenment.