Title: At the End of the Day

Author: Bad Faery

Pairing: Ardeth/Jonathan

Rating: NC-17

Status: New, complete

Archive: Yes, please

Feedback: Is treasured

Series/Sequel: Nope

Disclaimers: They're not mine. Jonathan would be on the promotional material if they were.

Summary: Ardeth fantasizes.

Warnings: *Very* mild domination/ submission

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AT THE END OF THE DAY

By Bad Faery

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Ardeth shifted restlessly beneath his bedclothes. Apocalypse had been averted yet again. Imhoteb had once again been dispatched into hell. Yet another hovering threat of the desert had been put to rest.

And he'd seen him again.

It was astounding that he could still feel the desire as intently as he had ten years previous. But the second he'd seen Jonathan's brilliant blue eyes again the longing knifed through him as though only minutes had passed since their last meeting. Furious with
himself for still harboring the impossible passion, he'd been sharper than necessary with Alex. The thought of it still shamed him, he'd never wanted to frighten the child. And for a moment the poor boy had been terrified. But even the shame he felt at his
actions couldn't quite overcome the hurt he'd felt at the resentment in Jonathan's gaze. He loved the child, it was clear, and he was determined to protect him, even from an ally.

At that moment Ardeth would have killed to be the focus of Jonathan's protectiveness.

He'd sought to make amends after that, finding every excuse to speak with the man. He found his attempts to befriend Jonathan hampered by his own serious nature. Unfamiliar with mores of casual conversation, he'd found himself relating tale after tale of death and foreboding, the lore passed down among his people from generation to generation. Finally growing tired
with the endless "It is written" stories of doom, Jonathan had countered with, "Just where is all this written anyway?". Having no answer, Ardeth had lapsed into uncomfortable silence, realizing that his efforts to persuade Jonathan to like him were having the opposite effect.

Frustrated and angry with himself, he'd just wanted to get away. He thought he had the perfect opportunity when one of Imhoteb's forces had killed his messenger bird. He'd attempted to retreat with the excuse that he needed to alert his people to the oasis's position. But O'Connell had persuaded him that he needed his help to save his son, and Ardeth, still hoping to make
up for his earlier treatment of the boy, had quickly relented.

His emotions had gotten the better of him once again as they prepared to do battle. He'd wanted to verify that Jonathan did indeed know how to use the gun that he held. The man's flippant response had infuriated him, didn't he know what a chance he was taking with his life? If anything went wrong Ardeth wouldn't be there to protect him. He'd placed his sword to the
man's throat in an effort to remind him how serious the upcoming confrontation was. To remind him to be wary of everything and everybody.

As he remembered, the scene swam with crystal clarity before Ardeth's eyes. Jonathan looking at him submissively, no real fear in his eyes, just surprise and respect, the moment charged with a sexual electricity. If they'd been alone... If they hadn't
been in mortal danger... Oh the possibilities!

Ardeth concentrated, changing the setting of his vision. They were still in the forest, but now the sun shone above them. The evil silence of the unnatural setting vanished, to be replaced with the peaceful sounds of nature. The ledge they stood on
became much wider and sun-warmed, the perfect place for a assignation. And this time they were alone.

In his mind Ardeth removed his sword from its place at Jonathan's throat and slowly slid the blade down over his chest. He sliced through the man's shirt, careful to never let the blade touch his skin. With a flick of his wrist, the tip of the sword brushed aside the thin material, revealing Jonathan's skin to his hungry gaze.

"Take it off," he commanded, his voice not revealing his desire.

Jonathan made no move to comply, continuing to stare at him impassively.

Ardeth returned his blade to the other man's throat, pressing hard enough to be a threat without breaking the skin. Slowly, Jonathan shrugged casually out of his jacket and shirt, never breaking eye contact. Despite the sword pressed to his throat there was no fear in his eyes, the expression in their cerulean depths unreadable, save for a brief flicker of- could it be?- amusement.

Ardeth's gaze swept hotly over the exposed flesh, memorizing every detail of the longed-for sight. He missed nothing from the scattering of freckles along Jonathan's collarbone to the small mole just beneath his left nipple.

He trailed the tip of his blade over the path his eyes had just taken, flicking over his right nipple before sketching tiny circles around his left. The bud of flesh hardened before Ardeth's eyes and Jonathan's lips parted on a soundless sigh of pleasure as the cold steel danced over his chest. He wanted to follow the path the blade had taken with his lips, to find out if Jonathan's skin was as delectable as it looked but it wasn't time for that yet. He had to keep the upper hand as long as he could or he would be lost utterly.

In a lightning fast movement he swept the tip of the blade down over Jonathan's stomach, coming to rest just above the fastening of his pants. With a steady hand, he sliced off the top button of his fly. Ardeth held Jonathan's gaze as he worked his way inexorably downward. The other man did not so much as flinch at the presence of the sharp weapon in such a sensitive
area. Instead Ardeth could almost swear that his lips twitched in a hastily- suppressed smile.

When the fastenings were utterly destroyed, Ardeth spoke again. "Now the rest."

Jonathan lazily toed off his shoes before removing his pants and undergarments in one smooth movement. Straightening, he stood calmly before Ardeth, making no move to conceal his erection from the other man's eyes.

Ardeth's breath quickened as he took in Jonathan's form, his graceful feet, the long, smooth muscles of his legs, the firm, flushed length of his erection jutting proudly against his belly. His mouth grew dry at the thought that he had caused that reaction.
Jonathan was hard for *him*. By all the gods that ever were he was exquisite. And now this beautiful creature was his. His to touch and taste and worship... He'd waited long enough.

Not trusting his voice he jerked his head in the direction of a stretch of smooth rock. He reinforced the order with a flick of his sword, reminding Jonathan of the threat. Despite his action, Jonathan turned his back trustingly on Ardeth as he moved to
the dictated location, giving the other man another view to feast upon. The Med-jai suppressed a moan at the sight of Jonathan's straight tanned back and the firm, luscious mounds of his buttocks. If he didn't touch him soon he felt as though he'd burst into flame.

"Lie down" he commanded huskily, his veneer of control fractured by the knowledge that he was about to touch the man he'd been fantasizing about for ten years. Jonathan eased himself down gracefully, sprawling comfortably on the sun-warmed stone. Ardeth dropped to his knees beside him, reaching out a hand to trail long fingers lightly over the column of the other man's throat.

Jonathan arched into the touch, lips parting as if to speak. Ardeth placed one finger gently against his lips, shaking his head slightly. When Jonathan blinked in acceptance of the unspoken order, he used that finger to slowly trace the outline of the other
man's full lips. Restraining the urge to cover those lips with his own, he slowly traced the contours of Jonathan's face, his aristocratic nose, sharp cheekbones and delicate eyelids all subject to the slow exploration. Moving on, he ran his finger along
the whorls of Jonathan's ear, spiraling out to trail along the outer edge before taking the lobe in between his fingers and pinching hard. He relished the hissing indrawn breath that signaled Jonathan's pleasure at this harsh treatment. Unable to resist
another second, he brought his mouth down over the Englishman's, tongue plundering his mouth. He explored for long minutes, seeking out every nuance of the instantly-addictive flavor that was part tea, part scotch, and part an unidentifiable something that mind simply labeled 'Jonathan'. Jonathan's tongue caressed his as it explored, but Ardeth refused to grant the other man permission to take control of the kiss. Breaking the kiss, he caught the Englishman's wrists in a firm grip when his hands came up to hold Ardeth's head in place. He pressed the other man's arms forcefully to the ground, hands above his head. "Do
not move" he commanded lowly, the iron in his tone leaving no room for argument.

Jonathan made none, simply sighing in pleasure as Ardeth trailed his fingers down his arms, pressing just hard enough not to be ticklish. The Med-jai took a moment to trace the contours of the other man's collarbone before combing his fingers through the
sparse curly hair that covered the Englishman's chest. Finding Jonathan's nipples, he trailed his fingers over them again and again making the other man sigh in pleasure. Experimentally he twisted one lightly, reassured by the Englishman's moan he repeated the movement, harder this time. He was rewarded by a sharp cry of agonized delight from the man before him.
With a private smile, Ardeth ran his thumb soothingly over the hard bud of flesh, even as he tormented the other one. Lowering his head, he nipped teasingly at the rosy bud enjoying the play of Jonathan's muscles against his lips as the other man shifted restlessly beneath him. Taking pity on him, Ardeth closed his lips firmly around the tiny nub and began to suck. He
flicked his tongue relentlessly against the sensitive tip until he was rewarded by a harsh groan. Raising his head, he smiled down at his captive. "You like this, don't you? Like me torturing you..." He ran his hand down the Englishman's trembling stomach. "I could do anything to you and you would not fight me." Purposefully bypassing Jonathan's erection, Ardeth trailed his fingers along the outside of the man's hip before snaking around to scratch his short nails against the delicate skin of Jonathan's inner thigh. The result was explosive. Jonathan arched off the ground, throwing his head back with a shout of ecstasy. "But that's not where you want my hands, is it?" He trailed on finger lightly down the underside of Jonathan's straining erection. He cupped his balls, squeezing them fleetingly, before returning his attention to Jonathan's legs. The blue-eyed man growled in frustration at this treatment, Ardeth nearly laughed at the animal-like sound. "And you did not think I could be any fun..."

Even through the haze of arousal, Jonathan had to snicker at that. Too late, he tried to turn the sound into a moan but Ardeth was already eying him threateningly. "I amuse you, do I? I shall have to do something about that." He removed his hands from
the Englishman's body, ignoring Jonathan's moan of protest. Rising gracefully, he began to undo the fastenings of his robes. Moving efficiently, Ardeth bared himself to the other man's intense blue gaze. He knelt several feet from Jonathan, letting his eyes examine the length of the Englishman's aroused form. Slowly he raised his hand to his own chest, caressing the smooth muscles. He brushed his fingers lightly over his nipples several times before locking eyes with Jonathan and sliding his hand down to grip his own erection. Taking himself firmly in hand he began to stroke slowly. Ardeth smiled as he saw Jonathan's
attention flicker between his hand and his face, the other man's breath coming faster as he took in the erotic performance.

"I take it back," Jonathan whispered huskily. "You're very fun."

Ardeth stared at him impassively for a moment, not ceasing his ministrations. Then he pounced. Blanketing the smaller man's body with his own, he murmured, "I thought you were not supposed to talk."

Jonathan grinned at him brazenly. "Perhaps you need to keep my mouth busy."

The teasing light in his eyes was too much for Ardeth to bear. With a groan he crushed his lips against the Englishman's, running his fingers frantically through his short, dark hair. Pausing for air, he pleaded, "Touch me," the needy whisper nowhere near approaching the commanding tone he'd been trying for. The difference didn't seem to matter to Jonathan who complied with flattering haste. Running his hands over the Med-jai's smooth back, he gripped his buttocks, bringing their erections into contact for the first time. Both men groaned at the sensation and Ardeth gave up his last vestige of control. Reaching between them he took both their erections in his hand, stroking them together. Jonathan threw his head back with a gasp and Ardeth seized the opportunity to explore his throat. As he sucked at the side of the Englishman's neck, Ardeth pressed his thumb firmly against the sensitive spot just below the head of Jonathan's erection. Jonathan's entire body convulsed as he shouted, "Stop!"

Ardeth paused, confused, and the command came again. "I said stop!"

Jarred out of his fantasy the Med-jai forced his eyes open, trying to focus on his surroundings. Bed. Tent. Jonathan.

Jonathan?

It wasn't possible and yet there he was. The blue-eyed Englishman, with whom Ardeth had just being having a very intense sexual encounter in his head, was standing in his tent. And he had an annoyed look on his face.

"I've told you twice now, don't make me repeat it again."

With that order, the rest of Ardeth's brain caught up with the situation. Jonathan Carnahan was in his tent, staring at him. And Ardeth was very naked. And very hard. Letting go of his erection and sitting up, the Med-jai grabbed a handful of his bedclothes, pulling them into his lap.

Jonathan arched an eyebrow. "I didn't give you permission to cover yourself."

Permission? Ardeth stared at him in shock.

Jonathan continued airily. "Nor did I give you permission to climax. I had expected better of you."

Ardeth's mind whirled furiously, what on earth was the blue-eyed man talking about? "Wh-What?"

"Oh come, you do know your own customs, don't you? I saved your life back there at the Oasis. Therefore your life belongs to me now. Your life, your body are mine to do with as I please. Lie down."

Too stunned to protest, the Med-jai complied.

Jonathan nodded approvingly. "Very good. I do love you, you know. Hands behind your head."

Ardeth smiled slowly at Jonathan's offhand comment, the rules of the game becoming clear to him. "I love you as well." He rested his hands on the ground above his hands.

Jonathan slapped his thigh lightly as punishment, "I didn't give you permission to speak." His eyes sparkled at his lover, belying the scowl on his face. "I'd expected you to be more obedient."

Pretending to consider the problem, Ardeth offered, "Perhaps I need a firm hand to discipline me."

Jonathan nodded thoughtfully. "Perhaps you do."

And then he pounced.