Marriage Made in Hell

(continued - the nice ending)

by Mistress Sarah and The Upholsterer

John placed his hands on Gideon's back and Gideon flinched. John gave a heavy sigh that he knew Gideon heard.

"Matthew, relax! Close your eyes and think of someone that turns you on. Pretend that I'm that person."

Gideon swallowed and thought about Elizabeth Lochley. But all he could think of about her is the acidic comments she would make about his current situation.

John's hands stroked down his back, giving him a light massage.

Gideon quickly built up in his mind a tall blonde woman with lots of curves and full lips. He tried to apply that picture to the hands now caressing his neck. Failed. He tensed up again.

John thought to himself, Damn, is there no one that turns him on? Great, a nervous and frigid bed partner. I hope that wine is potent enough ... John's hands continued to work Gideon's back and shoulders, regardless of what his mind was thinking.

Trying another tactic, Gideon tried to picture what John would have looked like if he had been a woman. A little bizarre of a choice, maybe, but he was past desperate.

John ... Jean would have short silky black hair, half-moon eyes, angular powerful cheekbones ... damn he was making her too masculine. A sweet heart-shaped face, small fine-boned hands ...

Those hands were drawing circles down his back, dipper lower and lower until they reached Gideon's ass and began kneading his asscheeks. John leaned over and placed a line of kisses down Gideon's spine.

Gideon shivered. Quick ... Jean would have small but well-proportioned breasts, softly rounded hips, an ample fresh ass ...

John saw that Gideon seemed to be settling down. Now just keep picturing whoever you're thinking about. Probably Lochley.

That thought gave John an unpleasant taste in his mouth. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea that Gideon had taken the blockers. He didn't want to see what his new spouse was thinking ...

John forcibly concentrated his attention on pleasuring Gideon and getting this damn farce over with. He ran his fingers down the crack between his asscheeks and cupped Gideon's balls in his hand.

Gideon made an "mming" sound that might have been something positive.

Diminutive but shapely legs, delicate feet ...

Not wanting to disturb whatever fantasy Gideon had buried himself in, John gently tugged on Gideon's hip to encourage him to roll over.

Gideon rolled over easily, his eyes remaining tightly closed.

... Cute ears, full lips ...

John saw to his satisfaction that the wine or something had worked since Gideon had a definite erection. He rubbed his hands up Gideon's thighs. Watching Gideon's face carefully, John stroked one finger down Gideon's erect cock. A little smile appeared on Gideon's lips. So far, so good.

Gingerly, John straddled Gideon's legs and licked his hands. He began stroking Gideon's cock, starting softly but building up quickly to the firm long strokes that John always used on himself.

He slipped one hand down and began pulling and rubbing Gideon's balls.

... warm hands, strong hands ...

John leaned forward and softly kissed Gideon's stomach, running his tongue over the trembling skin, all the time keeping his hands moving on Gideon's cock and balls.

... soft lips, tongue like fire ...

Gideon felt the edge of his climax coming and he ruthlessly pushed himself towards it. Letting out a loud gasp, he shot his orgasm out it in one long stream.

His eyes snapped open. And instead of some beautiful woman, Gideon saw the face of his First Officer, the look in his eyes anything but passionate. Cold, calculating, and Gideon's warm feeling shriveled and died.

Gideon turned his head away from those eyes and buried it in the pillow.

Anger burned up in John's throat. Not exactly a thank you.

John wiped his hands clean on the sheets. It's his damn fault that we're in this debacle and he doesn't even appreciate that I'm trying. He rolled off of Gideon and stared up at the ceiling, ignoring Max's plaintive requests for him to keep going.

Why should I expect appreciation? When has Matthew Gideon ever said thank you or done anything to make me think that he doesn't think my slaving to be the best damn XO ever is anything but his God-given due? John knew that he was being unfair, but years of patient servitude had lead him to this rather humiliating situation and probably the end of his EarthForce career.

Gideon's thoughts were running along similar lines, but from the opposite vantage point. He's leaving? What am I going to do without him? The best Second anyone ever had. I never tell him how much easier he makes my life ... How much more livable ... And now he'll never listen to me again.

Gideon swallowed around a lump and forced his head to turn over and look at John. His neck muscles felt like iron and his whole body was locked with tension.

John was looking up at the ceiling, his profile set in armor. Gideon knew that he had irrevocably screwed up this time. Better get things over with so that John would never be forced to be in his company again ...

"John?" his voice was creaky.

John blinked but didn't look at him.

"John, please?" Gideon tried again.

John looked at him and Gideon abruptly wished he hadn't. John's face was impassive, but his eyes burned black and angry, laying open Gideon's selfish soul to the light.

Gideon winced and closed his eyes briefly. Opening his eyes, he found John's eyes hadn't wavered. He lifted one leaden hand and carefully touched John's face.

"John, please ..." he whispered, "I know that you hate me. But we are going to be in this bed until ... we do what they want."

John sighed, suddenly feeling very tired. It was near impossible to stay angry at Gideon. The Captain may think of himself as a cunning cynic, which he was, but John had discovered over the years that, in some ways, Gideon was still a little boy, bewildered by a capricious and malevolent universe.

"Captain," John said at last, "lay on your stomach."

Gideon was shaking, with fear, tension, emotion, everything, but he managed to turn over. He brought his arms up and rested his chin in his hands.

John slid away from Gideon, to the side of the bed. Doggedly ignoring his onlookers, John took a long swig of the spiked wine that they had thoughtfully provided and fumbled open the bottle of lubricant. Squirting a good dollop into his hand, he ducked back under the covers. He scooted back over the Gideon's side, suppressing a sigh as he saw how tense Gideon was all over again.

John leaned up against him. "Think about your fantasy woman," John whispered in Gideon's ear, but this time Gideon knew it wouldn't do any good. His fantasy woman definitely did not come equipped with a cock like John was pressing against his thigh.

Slowly, John ran the hand without the lubricant down Gideon's back. Damn, damn, damn ... John swore to himself as he immediately saw that Gideon was tensing up instead of relaxing. So much for the fantasy woman idea. If he hadn't used the goddamn blockers, I could make this easier for both of us!

John continued to run his hand down Gideon's back. Forcing his voice to be calm and soothing, he murmured, "Think of a place that you enjoy being, someplace relaxing and quiet. Like the ocean. Or your house on Earth. That's right, think of sitting on your porch, no worries at all, the rain falling down on the porch roof. You have a drink in your hand and you're watching the rain fall on the trees."

That seemed to be working, so John continued murmuring to Gideon as he rubbed his back and ass, murmuring nonsense about his porch, throwing in every detail about Gideon's house that he could remember.

While Gideon seemed to be relaxing slightly, John looked down at his own cock and realized that Gideon wasn't the only one completely turned off by the situation. He reached the hand with the lubricant down and began stroking his own cock.

Amazing thing about the human male body, even though his mind was totally disgusted by what he was doing, his body was reacting in its brainless fashion to direct stimulation. He firmly separated his brain from his physical sensations, using techniques he learned in Psi Corp to cope with torture. He almost laughed at the irony.

Soon, his cock was growing firmer and, still murmuring inanely about rain and sunlight through the trees, John took his lubricated hand and ran his fingers down Gideon's asscrack. Gideon shivered then seemed to settle again.

Gideon focused desperately on John's words and memories of peaceful mornings at his house as John began to stroke his asshole. He struggled not to tighten up against the anticipation of pain.

Looking down at Gideon, John's anger suddenly returned full force. Why, dammit, are you still being so kind and considerate of this man who has taken advantage of you in all possible ways, and will be the end of everything you've ever dreamed of? See where kindness has gotten you so far?

He stopped chattering about some stupid porch and shoved his lubricated finger into Gideon's asshole. Ignoring Gideon's suppressed grunt of pain, he firmly slid his finger in and out, spreading the lubrication.

Dammit that hurts! Gideon wanted to scream. He bit down on his lip and buried his face into the pillow, half-smothering himself in an effort to stay quiet.

John briefly slid in a second finger to stretch his virgin asshole.

Then what the Hell, John climbed on top of him, spreading Gideon's legs apart and bunching a spare pillow underneath Gideon's groin. He crouched on his knees between Gideon's legs and leaned over his back. Positioning the head of his cock at Gideon's tight asshole, he began pushing firmly.

Feeling like he was splitting open, Gideon moaned into the pillow. He took the excruciating pain that was running up his body from too-tense ass as his due, his punishment. Hurt me, John, please! Hit me, beat me, be angry! Anything but those cold distant eyes.

John seemed to be listening, since he was taking no pains to be gentle as he drove his cock into Gideon's ass. Gideon tried to swallow his whimpers.

You've fucked up my life, John thought at Gideon, surprised by his own venom. How does it feel to be on the receiving end? He pulled his cock out and roughly pushed it back in, then repeated the movement, each time with more energy. He knew his relentless pounding was shaking the bed and he had a brief image of Max's upraised eyebrows, but then his eyes returned to a red haze.

Gideon bit into his lip, tasting blood. His fingers dug into the mattress, as he tried to stabilize himself as John slammed into him again and again.

Soon John vigorous rhythm began to build towards climax. His hands squeezed Gideon's ass, almost feeling the bruises form as he gripped tighter and tighter. Pleasure wasn't driving him, but a savage urgency.

Please ... Gideon whimpered. Please ...

An animal growl swelled in John's chest and burst from his throat as he climaxed, shooting again and again with a hot burning release.

As soon as he had emptied himself, he tore back the covers and made damn sure that Max, Sarah, and the rest of his interested audience knew that he had finished his task.

Gideon could only shiver underneath him, praying for unconsciousness.

John drug the sheet back over their naked bodies and pulled himself out of Gideon's ass. He curled into a ball and rolled away from Gideon. The sound of a discharging PPG filled his ears. Wild cheering sounded from outside as well as inside the room.

"Thank God! It took you long enough!" Max grumbled loudly and stomped out of the room.

John could hear Sarah come and stand by the bed. "I wish that I could wish you happiness," she said quietly and moved away.

The alien observers scuttled up to the bed and prodded and poked both men to make sure of ... John had no idea. Mercifully, their curiosity was quickly appeased and they left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Silence grew in the room, a stark contrast to the raging party outside.

Gideon was so silent, so still, that at last John moved over to him and touched his shoulder.

After a long moment, Gideon turned his face towards him and John was horrified to see Gideon's chin was covered with blood from a torn lip. His eyes were also red and swollen, his cheeks blotchy from tears.

Anger drained out of John and a sick sensation replaced it. Do you feel all better now, John Matheson? All freshly vindicated and powerful? He looked downwards, and saw that his deflated cock was also streaked with blood.

Squinting against a blistering headache, Gideon saw the nauseated look pass across John's face. He shut his eyes. I'd be sick to my stomach too if I realized that I was just married to me.

John took a corner of a sheet and carefully wiped Gideon's chin. Blood was still seeping sluggishly from his ragged lip. John bit his own lip in sympathy as he dabbed gently at the wound. He wished for some water to rinse Gideon's tear-mottled face.

Gideon forced himself to open his eyes and look at John. There was something he needed to say, though he knew it was far too late.

"I'm so sorry, John," he said, the words slurred by his swollen lip.

John didn't meet his eyes, but continued to wipe Gideon's face.

Reaching up, Gideon imprisoned John's hand and captured John's eyes with his own.

"I am truly sorry. I will make this right, John, I swear," he said softly, "I know it can never be ... the same between us, but I will make sure that this doesn't go on your record and that your transfer off my ship will be a promotion, not a punishment. I swear that nothing will blacken your record, nothing!" He attempted a smile. "Maybe you'll even get your own command."

John closed his eyes and shook his head. So much like him, believing that he can fix the universe.

"Please, John," Gideon said miserably, "I'm not asking for forgiveness or for you to ever trust me again."

Sighing, John moved away and plopped his head against the pillow, staring upwards. "You are some piece of work, Matthew Gideon. But damned if I am going to let you sweet talk your way out of this one."

"I wasn't --" Gideon cut himself off. Maybe he was trying to talk himself out of it. A wave of self-loathing washed over him. He turned away from John, curled up into a little ball, and wished for oblivion.

John stared at Gideon's back, overflowing with more emotions than he could name. Guilt at last won out and John said softly, "I'm sorry I hurt you. I got a little carried away."

"I deserve it," Gideon mumbled.

John gave an exasperated sigh and closed his eyes. He almost hated Gideon at that moment, hated him for putting John in this situation that tore up his insides and muddled his mind. Why couldn't I have served under a standard lifetime-military jerk?

Quite against his better judgement, John found himself reaching over and touching Gideon's curved back. Gideon flinched as if he had been burned.

"Matthew," John whispered and Gideon's heart lurched painfully. "Are you ... okay? Should I call Dr. Chambers?"

Gideon shook his head with a quick negative. He had no desire to see that sorrow in Sarah's eyes ever again.

"You always look out for me, John," Gideon's voice was a ragged whisper, "I've never thanked you for that. You are ... were the best Second anyone has ever had."

John gave a tired laugh, "You waited long enough to tell me."

"I know."

There was silence for a long while as each man listened to the other breathe.

Gideon felt numb, empty, unable to think about anything but how badly he had mishandled the entire situation.

On the other side of the bed, John was feeling old, exhausted by the constant pressure of responsibility and expectations. And one of the few friendships that he had counted on to carry him through was now ashes ... It was a painful and too late realization how much he wanted, he needed that friendship. That he had made it as far as he had in EarthForce because his commanding officer was someone he could believe in, not just a 'standard lifetime-military jerk'.

Damn you Matthew Gideon. You would walk through Hell to save the newest of your crew members, but you couldn't learn some simple verb conjugations for me. Damn you.

That felt good, so he said it out loud, "Damn you."

"Yes," Gideon whispered.

"Damn you, damn you, damn you!" John repeated thickly. A bubble of hysterical laughter was rising in his throat. "And damn me too." He gave a short bark of bitter laughter.

Gideon recoiled as if he had been hit.

John shook his head wearily, "Matthew, God help me, but I need you. I really have no doubt in my mind that you will be the source of my destruction and eventually my death. But if I'm going to accomplish for my people what I want to in my short remaining lifespan, it will be with you and on the Excalibur. I need a captain as unconventional as you and a mission as desperate as the one we are on. There is no other way."

Gideon blinked, trying to digest what John just said. A tiny spark of hope flared to life in his chest.

"You aren't leaving?" he whispered.

"No," John sighed, "But I sincerely hope that you can pull an Ace out of your sleeve for me this time, and get us out of this wretched mess."

"Yes," Gideon responded, a fraction louder than his previous whisper, "I will figure out something."

"I know you will," John gave another tired laugh. "You always do."

Very carefully, Gideon rolled over to face John. His whole body ached, from tension, from betzel leaf bombs, and from the earlier humiliating activities.

For a long moment, they just looked at each other. Each wondered what the other saw in his face.

Finally, John said, "Come here."

"Why?" Gideon asked guardedly.

"Matthew," John voice was a stern parent's, "I am not going to hurt you again. I just want to finish cleaning off your face."

"Oh." Gideon scooted fractionally closer to John.

"Closer ..."

Gideon moved a few more inches.

John had to slide over to him. He inwardly winced when he saw how Gideon curled up protectively as he approached.

Please, God, no more ... Gideon bit his lip, reopening the tear.

Keeping his face clear of emotion, John gently blotted the blood from Gideon's chin and wiped dried tears from his face.

Gideon swallowed, trying to gather his scattered nerves.

John finished his ministrations and bundled together the blood-smeared blanket and tossed it off of the bed.

"Thank you," Gideon said softly.

John's lips quirked up at the corners, the beginning of a smile. "Two 'Thank Yous' in one day, must be a Matthew Gideon record."

Gideon responded with a pale ghost of a smile, "Consider it a wedding present."

The smile burst into full force on John's face. His sense of humor, his life-saver more than once, was finally beginning to reassert itself.

"But you already gave me a goose," John said, "I've always ... wanted a goose. What the hell am I going to do with a goose?"

Smiling carefully with his split lip, Gideon answered, "Cook it for Christmas dinner?"

"Cooking is not one of my myriad talents."

Gideon raised his eyebrows, "I didn't think there was anything you couldn't do."

"Just cooking. Well," John admitted graciously, "Cooking and basketball."

"Cooking, basketball, and ... poker?"

"Let's not get carried away now."

They shared a smile that felt halfway natural.

Gideon broke it with a yawn.

"Tired?" John asked.

"It's been a long day. It takes a lot of energy to screw things up so completely in such a short time."

"I imagine," John nodded, "How rude of your victims to not take that into account."

"Absolutely," Gideon yawned again.

"Sleep?" John suggested.

"Excellent idea." Gideon bunched his pillow together under his head and closed his eyes.

John looked at him silently for a moment, wondering how he could possibly appear so innocent. Impulsively, he reached out and smoothed the hair back from Gideon's forehead.

Gideon's eyes flew open with a jolt of alarm.

"Sshhh ..." John whispered, like talking to a small child. He stroked Gideon's cheek, a gesture more comforting then sensual.

Gideon gave him an uncertain half smile.

John couldn't help but think that his Captain looked like he was in desperate need of comforting. Comforting. After the horrors of the day, he could use some comforting himself. Something warm, uncomplicated, and non-threatening.

He'd have to settle for warm.

"It's a little chilly," John said softly, though it really was stuffy under the pile of blankets.

Gideon hesitated, then he replied just as softly, "It is cold."

"Survival regs say to conserve body heat in a cold and hazardous situation."

"Well, I've never been one to break regs ..."


Gideon paused for a moment, hoping with all his heart that he was reading John right. He opened up his arms and invited John in.

John rolled away from him and for a painful moment, Gideon feared he had guessed terribly wrong.

Then John scooted back towards him and lay his head next to Gideon's, his shoulder cradled by Gideon's left arm. His back lightly touched Gideon's stomach. Both men carefully kept their lower bodies from any contact.

Gideon draped his free arm over John's torso, his hand resting on John's chest. Gideon's breath tickled the back of John's neck.

They lay that way for a while, neither feeling sleepy, just enjoying the timeless solace of skin on skin.

Surprising himself, Gideon felt the need to talk, to begin to rebuild a relationship he never realized how much he depended on.

"I never congratulated you," Gideon said quietly.

"For what?" John's voice didn't sound drowsy either.

"Only capturing the biggest matrimonial prize in the universe."

John chuckled, sending a shiver up Gideon's arm that was wrapped around John's stomach. "No, just an egotistical Captain who thinks he's the biggest prize ever. It is me who should be congratulating you."

"Oh, really? Why is that?"

John chuckled again, this time more wryly. "Do you have any idea how many offers I've had in my life from women and men who wanted to bed a telepath? There are people who work their way up the power ladder, and think that I would make a decent 6th rung."

"Really? How much does a night with a P-6 run these days?"

"More than you could ever afford," John tapped his fingers lightly on Gideon's hand. "You got me cheap."

"Cheap?" Gideon laughed in protest, "Do you have any idea how much that dragon cost me?"

John grinned over his shoulder at Gideon. "Besides, I'm a bargain at any price."

"You are that," Gideon said, his voice suddenly serious, "I don't deserve you."

"No, you don't," John agreed blithely.

"But I have you."

"Yes, you do."

Gideon carefully tightened his arms around John and rested his cheek against the back of John's head. His hair was soft and silky, and smelled of sweat and dirt and fresh rain.

"I am sorry," Gideon whispered into John's hair.

"I know." John adjusted his shoulder on the arm that Gideon had outstretched underneath him. John's left hand came to rest in Gideon's open hand. "And I'm sorry for hurting you ... and for some of the other things I said ... Some of them."

"I imagine you've been dying to tell me some of those things for years."

"That is true. It did feel good to tell you to go to hell."

"Already been there today. But you should make sure to keep telling me what you feel. I've heard that communication is the key to a good marriage."

John laughed quietly, "I've heard that too." He moved away from Gideon, but it was only to turn off the light. He returned quickly to the circle of Gideon's arms.

After a moment, Gideon said, "Sleep well, John."

"Good night, Matthew."

That said, they settled down to sleep, but both men lay staring off into the darkness. Unknown to each other, each of their minds were focused on one single thought ...


{PART 1}

Witches Familiars

{Mistress Sarah} {The Upholsterer}

{The Main Gate} {HomePage} {Wytches World} {We are Family} {A Little Artistic Licence} {No, we don't mean "A"riadne} {Our Home Is Our Castle} {The Witches' Diary} {Witches Familiars} {The Gateway} {Webrings}