Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

John had been prepared for this moment all his life, but he still wasn't ready for it.

Living at the Academy was considered a privilege for a servant, though John didn't always see it like that. There were strict rules about what they weren't allowed to do and the chores they had to perform, and breaking the rules resulted in punishment. John had sometimes wondered if he wouldn't have preferred life as a kitchen hand. At the Academy they were given an education and they were safe from the whims of a master, but the price they paid for that privilege was the uncertainty of this day and how it would change his future.

Pre-Selection was a time-honored ritual in Atlantia. It marked the passage from boyhood to young manhood. Every male Atlantean went to Pre-Selection after his sixteenth birthday to select a body servant who would stay with him when he left his home at age eighteen until he was married by age twenty-one.

In the two years before a new body servant took over the care of his master's household, the servant was specifically trained to meet his master's particular needs—including sexual needs if his master so wished.

It wasn't the sex that John was worried about on this day. Even though it was forbidden, John wasn't completely inexperienced sexually. There'd been two other body servants in training with whom he had tested the pleasures they could achieve by the touch of their hands, and unlike some, the idea of having sex with another man didn't bother him.

But like everyone else he'd heard the stories of what happened to body servants if they were unlucky. It was forbidden to kill or permanently harm body servants, and beatings were frowned upon, but nobody would think to ask after a body servant if he wasn't seen or heard of for a week or even a month.

The truth was that there was very little that a body servant could do if his master abused him. John could handle punishment, even the formal corporal punishment that he'd received for disobedience, but at least at the Academy there were rules that he could choose to follow or not. Once he was in his new master's household he'd be entirely at his mercy, and John had already vowed to flee Atlantia and risk death rather than remain with someone who mistreated him.

He still had two years of training ahead of him, during which he would remain in the relative safety of the Academy, but today a master would choose him and John would get his first glimpse of the kind of person his new master was.

John didn't dare to hope for more than someone who'd at least not harm him.

~~

The Great Hall was so polished that you could see your reflection in the marble walls and floors. John and others had spent days getting it to this state before they were dismissed to prepare themselves for this day.

The body servants in training had different approaches to Pre-Selection, and since John didn't prepare himself in a particular way, he had time to watch the others.

Some tried to make themselves look especially attractive. They oiled their bodies and styled their hair and shaved carefully, unless they'd started to grow a beard as a sign of virility.

John was mostly amused by their attempts. One of the prerequisites for being chosen for the Academy was above-average looks, so he wasn't sure how successful this strategy was. More than that he feared that a well-oiled, well-styled body servant in training wouldn't necessarily attract the right kind of master.

Not that John presumed to know what the others wanted in that regard.

He knew that most hoped for a master who wasn't interested in being sexually serviced and who would treat them with respect. The sexual component of a body servant/master relationship was often only experimentation for the master. In many cases, there was no sex at all.

Other body servants in training looked forward to finally having sex without fear of punishment—and some had very specific sexual tastes that they hoped would be fulfilled by the right master.

A few tried to make themselves look as uninteresting or untidy as they could, hoping to avoid being chosen by a master altogether. If you weren't chosen by anyone by the age of seventeen, you were placed in normal service with a family or business.

John wouldn't mind that, himself. Like all the other body servants in training he was not only attractive but also intelligent, which in his case included an aptitude for numbers. He was the best in his math class and could imagine doing accounting for a store or something similar, which would afford him a relatively easy life for a servant.

However, John didn't count on not being chosen. He wasn't vain, but even in the relatively sheltered life at the Academy he'd seen people react to him. He only hoped that his looks wouldn't attract exactly the wrong kind of master.

He'd soon enough have his answer to that, he thought, as they all filed out into the Great Hall where the future masters were waiting.

John didn't look at anyone in particular—he didn't want to attract attention from anyone. But a quick scan of the room showed young men scattered around, some standing with their fathers and some with other young men who were also here to select body servants.

Some looked excited, some embarrassed, some uncomfortable, some calm. One young man was sitting on one of the marble benches, writing furiously in a notebook. John smiled inwardly. The writer didn't even look as if he had noticed that they had been brought in. John wasn't sure whether to envy or admire that he didn't seem to care.

He didn't dwell further on it, though, as a shy looking young man with red hair and freckles stepped up to him.

"Hello," the redhead said. "You're John Sheppard, right? You're on my short-list." Then he flushed.

A smile tugged on the corner of John's mouth. "Hi," he said, trying to seem friendly. It was hard to tell from a short conversation, but the young man seemed like someone who wouldn't abuse his powers. And he was pretty cute too.

Other young men approached them and the redhead stepped aside, but didn't move away.

John hoped he'd stay. The others who came close looked at him as if he were an object in a market stall before moving on to the next. The inhumanity of belonging to someone else was one of the things he hated about his existence. He didn't want to be the possession of someone who wouldn't even look him in the eye.

An older red-haired man approached them. "James. Don't you want to look at the others on your list?" he asked the young red-head who'd stayed at John's side.

"Father, I think I've made my choice, if nobody else steps up," James said.

James' father looked surprised and gave John a quick once-over. He turned back to his son. "We can ask the supervisor if you're sure."

James quickly glanced at John, who smiled encouragingly at him. "Yes, I'm sure."

"I don't think so." A dark-haired young man approached John, leering as he let his gaze travel over John's body. "Father! This is the one I want," he shouted to the other end of the room.

John looked at James for help because the other guy was giving him a really bad feeling. But unfortunately James seemed quite intimidated and only looked helplessly at his father.

An annoyed-looking man came over and addressed the dark-haired young man, who appeared to be his son. "I thought you liked the other one?"

"No, this one's better," the young man said with a greedy side-glance at John.

John shuddered. He looked at James and his father. The older man spoke up, addressing the father of the creepy young guy. "Ah, Mr. Berenson, my son has also set his sights on this body servant. In fact he hasn't looked at anyone else."

"Do you hear that, Drake? Why don't you at least finish looking around," Berenson suggested to his son.

Drake's eyes narrowed. "I want this one," he said, stressing every word. "Can I try him out now?" he asked, looking down John's body until his gaze stopped at John's crotch.

John's eyes widened. It wasn't uncommon to go into a separate room to look each other over more closely. He was prepared to get undressed if asked, but it wasn't usual to have sex on Pre-Selection Day and he really, really didn't want the beating he was going to get when he punched Drake in the face for trying.

"James?" his father prompted the redhead.

James looked from John to Drake, who glared menacingly. Mr. Berenson rolled his eyes at his son but didn't do anything to stop him. Unfortunately, it was enough to scare James away.

"I, uhm, if he really wants John—" he began.

"Yes, I do. I really do," Drake said, giving John another leer.

"Then I suppose I can take a look at the others on my list," James said. He gave John a sad look and moved away.

John tried not to be angry with him. He didn't know the history between James and Drake and their families, nor their relative power in Atlantia. He didn't want to judge James without knowing more, but he certainly felt disappointed that James hadn't even tried to fight for him.

John felt sick at the thought of becoming Drake's body servant. If that happened he was definitely going to run away before Drake ever got his hands on him. He hoped that he could catch the eye of at least one of the other young men, but they all walked quickly past John once Drake gave them a menacing look.

When no other young men showed an interest in John, Mr. Berenson looked for the supervisor to officially register John as his son's body servant.

John hoped that maybe James would return, but looking around he saw James smiling at another body servant in training. John tried not to feel betrayed. Scanning the room, he saw that all the future masters stood with a body servant in training now, though there seemed to be a few cases where more than one master was interested in the same body servant.

And actually John wasn't quite correct. Not everyone had found a match. He noticed that the young man on the bench was still scribbling away, completely oblivious to what was going on around him.

John hoped against all hope that someone would alert him that he'd have to make his pick, and that if he saw John and wasn't intimidated by Drake...

Which were really more ifs than John could hope for. He didn't know anything about his new master but nobody seemed to want to oppose Drake or perhaps his family, so John had no reason to believe the guy on the bench would be different.

The supervisor came over to them with his notes. "Master Drake has made his choice?" he asked. "Oh, John Sheppard. One of our most promising students. Is there no one else who took an interest in you, John?"

"No," Drake said gruffly, glaring at the supervisor. "He's mine."

"Right," the supervisor said. He opened his notebook, his expression suddenly becoming surprised. "Oh," he said.

"What?" Drake asked impatiently.

"It appears that someone has already registered John for his body servant," the supervisor said.

John's heart skipped a beat. Maybe there was hope yet. Maybe James had changed his mind and tried to claim him without directly confronting Drake. Though he didn't think Drake would let him go without a fight.

"Who?" Drake demanded.

"The request is by Rodney McKay," the supervisor said.

"Dr. Andrew McKay's son?" Berenson asked.

"Father! There's nobody else here. You cannot register a body servant in absentia," Drake said.

"You are right, of course," the supervisor said. "Let me ask my assistant. I didn't log this request myself."

He left, and Drake turned to his father. "I don't care whose son he is. I want this one."

"Let's wait and see," Berenson said.

"I will not wait and see!" Drake shouted, making a few of the others close by turn to them. "This one's mine!"

"Well, apparently not," Berenson said. "We'll see what Dr. McKay's son has to say on the matter."

Drake growled in frustration, but his father wasn't impressed.

The supervisor returned with an assistant in tow. "It appears that Rodney McKay asked for the best in the math class before the official selection began."

"Math?!" Drake said incredulously.

Berenson gave John a quick glance, looking vaguely impressed. Then he turned back to the supervisor. "Can we talk to the young man? If I understand correctly, registrations are not final until all disputes are resolved. He cannot have left already."

"No," the assistant said. "Master Rodney is still here." He turned and looked over at the guy on the bench.

Yes! John only just managed not to make a fist-pump of joy. Then he silently started praying that his new master—please, please, let it be him and not Drake—wouldn't be intimidated by Drake.

The assistant went to fetch the young man. He glared when he was interrupted, made a few more notes, then got up and came over to them.

"He's mine, McKay," Drake said. "If you want someone to do math for you, pick someone else."

"Drake," Berenson said with warning in his voice.

"Oh, good. For a second, I thought you were the one, but then I remembered that they weed out the ugly," Rodney said disparagingly. "And for your information, unlike others, I don't need anyone to do math for me."

Drake clenched his hands into fists, but John couldn't hide a grin. He had a feeling that his new master wasn't easily cowed.

Rodney turned to him, and when their eyes met, John could see the arrogance in the blue eyes turn to momentary surprise. "You're pretty," Rodney blurted out.

John felt himself flush at the compliment. He never flushed.

"Father?" Drake demanded.

"Master Rodney," Berenson addressed Rodney politely. "As you might have noticed, my son has also taken an interest in John."

"He's been loud enough about it," Rodney said. "I registered John as soon as I got here. We've had profiles of all candidates for weeks. Can't your son read?"

"You bastard," Drake fumed. He looked like he was about to strangle Rodney, so John stepped up between them, looking at Drake with narrowed eyes. Drake shoved at him. "Get out of my way, slave!"

"Drake!" his father said sternly, while the supervisor and assistant exchanged looks of displeasure. For some reason the word slave was frowned upon, though John didn't know how his situation was different from slavery. "That's enough. You'll go find someone else. There are enough candidates left."

"Father!" Drake said.

"This one would be wasted on you, and we all know it," Berenson said. "I'm not going to force Dr. McKay to come here and discuss this. You'll find what you want elsewhere. Master Rodney will get the one who does math. Besides, it seems very obvious that John knows whom he would prefer as master."

John was momentarily taken aback that anyone would consider his feelings on the matter for even a second.

Berenson nodded to him and the others and dragged his protesting son away.

"What a pest," Rodney said. "Is this dispute settled then? Can you confirm my official registration for John?" he asked the supervisor.

"I'm afraid we cannot make any registrations official until all registration conflicts are resolved."

Rodney sighed. "Then can I go back to work, at least?"

"Of course," the supervisor said. "I hope we will have all outstanding issues resolved soon."

The officials left them alone and John looked at Rodney, unsure of what to say or if there was anything appropriate to say at all.

"I'll go back to work," Rodney informed him. "Come with me and I can give you my first set of instructions." He went back to the bench and retrieved several sheets of paper. He thrust them into John's hands, then sat down and opened his notebook again to work.

John quickly scanned his instructions, finding an academic schedule which included advanced physics classes that weren't even offered at the Academy. Rodney had scribbled them in, with an instructor's name that he'd never heard of.

All non-scientific classes were marked as optional. Under household duties Rodney had written, "Keep us clean and fed. House only needs to be clean enough that my father (and sister) won't complain. Three meals a day. No citrus anywhere!" He'd underlined the last sentence three times.

On the next pages, Rodney went into the details of John's scientific instruction. He had lists of books that would be sent to John for him to study. He'd outlined which chapters in particular to look into and which to ignore because the authors were idiots.

John only skimmed over these detailed notes. He'd have to wait for Rodney's books and look at the theories that Rodney wanted him to learn. There were even exercises for him to do. "Please send these to me as soon as possible so that I can determine the next steps," Rodney had noted.

It seemed John would be more of an apprentice scientist than a body servant. He wasn't exactly sure what Rodney planned on having him do other than keeping up with household chores. And so far there'd been nothing about Rodney's wishes regarding John's training in sexual matters.

John turned to the last page where, after a few more paragraphs on his curriculum, there was a line: "Sex: Decision not made. Instructions, if any, will be specified after we meet."

John looked up from the notes, only to catch Rodney looking at him over the edge of his notebook. Rodney flushed for a moment, then lifted his chin and snapped his fingers, reaching for the notes. John handed them to him. Rodney made a few changes on the last page and handed them back, turning to his own notebook again.

The last line now read: "Sex: Instructions will be specified in an upcoming letter. Suggestions welcome."

John looked back to Rodney. He didn't look up from his notebook, but he didn't seem to actually be reading or writing anything and his cheeks were red. "Any questions?" he asked, without looking at John.

"Not for the moment. Or, actually..." John hesitated.

Rodney did look up at him then. His face looked guarded. "You would have preferred something else in the last line?"

"Oh, no!" John said immediately. Then he felt himself flush at the implication. He wouldn't have had a problem with having sex with any master who respected him. But he had to admit that, with Rodney, he was looking forward to the opportunity. Despite that fact, he didn't want to seem over-eager. He appreciated that Rodney wasn't just interested in his body, which led to what he wanted to ask. "I was wondering what you want me to do with my scientific training."

"Oh, that," Rodney said, visibly relieved. "I could use an assistant. My father won't allow me to get one until I start working in his labs, and he won't allow me to do that until I get married. You can help me with my projects and clean up my manuscripts. How's your penmanship? Did I put that on the list? If not, put it on there."

"I'll keep it in mind," John assured him.

"Good," Rodney said. "This is really just the beginning," he added, waving at the instructions in John's hand. "Once I've been able to evaluate what you're capable of, we'll proceed from there."

"All right," John said. He found himself not wanting to disappoint Rodney.

A bell rang and everyone turned to the supervisor, who stood in the middle of the Great Hall. "I am pleased to announce that all disputes have been resolved and every master has found a suitable body servant." Behind the supervisor, John could see Drake staring daggers at Rodney and grumbling. He was standing next to one of the well-oiled candidates. "This marks the official end of Pre-Selection. Your body servants in training will eagerly await instructions and other correspondence beginning tomorrow."

"Finally," Rodney said.

John smirked. He wondered what life with Rodney would be like.

Rodney turned to him. "I, uh, guess that's it for now. Send me those exercises as soon as possible."

"I will," John promised.

"I'll follow up with more instructions about your curriculum. And, uh, other things." Rodney flushed and dropped his gaze.

John felt something weird going on his stomach. He smiled at Rodney. "I'll be waiting."

Rodney looked at him and smiled back. "We'll see each other in a year for Confirmation."

"I'm looking forward to it," John said.

Rodney nodded, then stuck out his hand.

John shook it. They stood like that, hands still clasped until Rodney cleared his throat.

"Gotta go. Much work to do. See you." He hesitantly pulled his hand away as if he didn't really want to go, then turned and left, looking back once more before disappearing through the door.

John waited until he was gone. That was it. He officially had a master now. He hadn't just escaped ending up with Drake, he'd found the person he would have picked if it had been his choice.

After years of general preparation, he was ready to train for his master. And even though he wouldn't have expected it, he was actually looking forward to both the training and his service under Rodney.

~~

The usually quiet dormitories were full of chatter that afternoon. Though the Academy was run with strict schedules, on this day the body servants in training were free to discuss their new masters or begin training for them if they wanted.

John went over Rodney's instructions again, taking notes on what he should study specifically. Even though he didn't pay particular attention to the others he heard and saw their different reactions.

There was relief, disappointment, anger, fear, and occasional smugness. The well-oiled body servant chosen by Drake told everyone how rich the Berensons were. Apparently his training for his new master would be only of the sexual kind. John wondered if he knew that he hadn't been Drake's first choice. Not that John regretted ending up with Rodney. He definitely didn't.

The very rich families could afford to send one or more servants to the new masters' households, so their body servants were sometimes more companion than servant and had no actual work to do. Some of his peers were very eager to be chosen for such a household, so the wealth of their future masters was very important to them.

If Drake's body servant was one of those, John was happy for him. His own priorities were different.

John didn't mind working in the kitchen or even doing latrine duty. It wasn't fun, but someone had to do it, and he didn't think he was above such work. And if he had to choose between handling the household of a master who was smart and wanted John for his intellect or being a piece of meat for Drake or someone like him, he'd choose Rodney any day.

Not that choice entered into the equation for anyone here.

John was lucky, and he knew it. He remembered how afraid he had been earlier in the day, and he could see fear in the eyes of those who didn't get what they wanted. Their only option now was to leave and become a regular servant, but that rarely meant an easier life and always included the risk that they'd get another owner who'd mistreat them. He felt sympathy for the unlucky ones, but there was nothing he could do about it. He wasn't close to any of them. He'd learned early in his life that friendship was a privilege that servants didn't have in this society.

He'd been separated from his childhood friends when he'd been chosen for the Academy, and during his time here he'd seen many leave because they couldn't handle the punishments or couldn't keep up with their lessons.

The departures became more infrequent as time went on, but John was under no illusions that he could form lasting friendships here. There was no telling how much freedom their new masters would allow them, and once their masters married they could be sent away.

Relationships were something servants could only engage in if their owners permitted. No law gave them this power, but the fact that they could sell servants or re-assign them at a moment's notice made it so in reality if not in writing.

It was as inhumane as much of their existence, but John was not one to dwell on injustice when he couldn't change it. Sometimes when he couldn't stand it he broke some rules, but it was with the full understanding that he would be punished if they found out.

That was the extent of his freedom, and even if Rodney promised to be a better master than Drake would be, John knew that he would still be a servant.

He only hoped that Rodney would not abuse his power.

~~

John compiled a preliminary schedule for his lessons that night. Since Rodney was going to send him books to study in addition to the mandatory science classes, John would try to keep his lesson time as free as possible. The Academy offered dozens of courses on maintaining a household but Rodney's first set of instructions made it quite clear where his priorities lay, so the only optional training John chose was cooking. It was something he enjoyed, and even if Rodney didn't have any particular wishes, John was sure he'd prefer a tasty meal to something barely edible.

He went to bed early that night, looking forward to Rodney's letter the next day.

As it turned out, though, mail was distributed at the leisure of the Academy servant who was assigned the task, and he told John that he'd be informed when it was ready.

John decided to run for a bit and train with some weights. He was on the skinny side and trying to build some muscle. It was never a bad idea to be able to defend yourself. With Rodney, thankfully, it didn't look like he'd need it, but John still had two years at the Academy. Fighting between body servants in training was not a rare occurrence though it was, of course, strictly forbidden.

After training he tried to peek into the mail room, where the servant only narrowed his eyes when he saw John. So John shuffled away and decided to get his gardening chore for the day done. He didn't mind being outside or pulling weeds but sometimes it could get very hot in the garden, so it helped to do it earlier in the day.

He was almost done when he finally heard that the mail was about to be distributed. John quickly finished off the last weeds and cleaned up before arriving at the mail room, which was packed with body servants in training eagerly waiting for their first mail from their new masters.

John had never gotten any mail, so he had no idea if it would always be this busy. Probably not.

One name after another was called. There were small packages and larger ones, sometimes only a letter. One lucky body servant in training got a basket full of fruits and pastries from his future master. Some of the mail for the body servants in training were paintings of their new master or his family. One body servant even got a life-size bust of his master, causing a bit of teasing—though John thought that some of that was envy.

John wouldn't mind having a portrait to remind him of Rodney's sharp blue eyes and the peculiar slant of his mouth. But mostly, he was anxious for the books Rodney had promised to send. He wanted to know if he would disappoint Rodney or live up to his expectations.

To John's frustration, however, every name called was someone else's. Most people stayed, curious about what others got. Drake's body servant in training immediately unwrapped what turned out to be a monstrous dildo. He wasn't the only one who got a dildo, though from what John had heard from older body servants in training, the dildos were usually crafted to approximate the girth and length of the cock of their masters. Seeing the dildo Drake sent, John had to suppress laughter; no way in hell was this based on Drake's size. John was pretty damn sure he would have noticed if Drake had such a huge cock when he bumped into him, when John stepped between him and Rodney. John only chuckled to himself. At least Drake's body servant would have fun training for him.

John's main focus was still on the books, even though he wouldn't mind if Rodney sent him a dildo. He was getting impatient as the number of body servants without any mail kept dwindling.

"Okay, that's it," the mail servant finally declared. John was about to protest that he hadn't gotten his mail yet when the servant pointed at him. "Come with me," he said, sounding exasperated.

John followed the man into a small chamber off to the side.

"This is from Master Rodney," the man said. "I'd appreciate it if you could get this to your room in a timely fashion. Do it yourself or find help. I want to lock up before noon."

John quickly nodded, taking in the bundles upon bundles of books. Rodney was definitely serious about his education.

~~

After getting all the books into his room with the help of a few of his peers, who'd looked vaguely horrified at the sight of the library that Rodney had sent, John began going through Rodney's more detailed instructions.

When he opened the first book on the list, he found a short letter from Rodney. It reiterated that John should send him the solution to Rodney's first exercise as soon as he was done with it. He also clarified the reason for the no citrus rule: Rodney was deathly allergic to the fruits. John made a mental note to avoid any and all citrus in his cooking. If he learned to do it now, he wouldn't have to adjust later when he cooked for Rodney. Finally, Rodney ended with instructions for his sexual training.

"I would appreciate it if you learned how to pleasure me with your mouth and hands."

A shudder went through John at the thought. He'd never sucked another man's cock, but he didn't mind the thought at all. Finally, he had not just permission but instructions to do it. Though John noted the way Rodney phrased it—as a request. John had the feeling that if he were uncomfortable with the idea, Rodney wouldn't insist, and that made something in his heart clench. The scope of the decisions that he could make was so narrow that every bit of freedom offered to him seemed like a great gift, especially because it was something he knew he had no right to.

He only needed to recall some of the faces of his peers when they'd been sent a dildo. He wondered how many of them would rather work in the fields or mines than go through with this.

But others weren't his concern now. There was nothing he could do for them anyway. Instead, John amended his curriculum to include some sexual training. Then he started reading the first book so he could return Rodney's first exercise as soon as possible.

~~

The first week after Pre-Selection was incredibly busy for John. He wanted to get through Rodney's exercises as fast as possible, so he spent every waking moment that wasn't otherwise scheduled reading and working on them.

He tried to squeeze in his morning run at least, and of course he still had to do his chores. He was informed that his advanced physics teacher worked in the McKay Laboratories, which Rodney's family owned, and would come as soon as Rodney had determined John's specific lesson plan. That gave John a few more hours, but he was still very busy, his head full of numbers and the laws of physics, the only distraction being his Academy lessons and chores.

His first sexual training session was a semi-success.

Sexual training wasn't instruction as much as simple practice. Atlantean men volunteered to be sexually serviced by body servants in training. Obviously, sex with body servants in training who had only just been chosen wasn't expected to be all that great, since they could only have any kind of experience if they'd engaged in sexual activities despite strict rules against it.

However the service didn't cost anything and there were always enough volunteers.

Before his first time John tried to suck on some vegetables in preparation, but he'd been too busy to spend much time getting used to it. In his first training session he concentrated on technique. He undid the guy's pants and tried to suck on his dick without choking on it. He quickly realized that he really, really needed to work on his gag reflex and that his jaw wasn't happy about keeping his mouth open for so long. When the guy finally came John quickly pulled away, spitting out what little come had gotten in his mouth. The guy seemed reasonably satisfied. "Not bad for your first time," he said.

John only nodded and left, his mind already on the exercise that he wanted to finish today and send to Rodney.

~~

At the end of the week, John got feedback from Rodney on his first exercise. He made a few suggestions but overall he was very pleased. So pleased, in fact, that he scheduled John's first lesson with his advanced physics teacher and told John to skip a few of the other exercises.

John preened with pride when he got the letter. He knew that many of his peers thought he'd gotten the dirty end of the stick. While others were learning the ropes of their master's family business—either to perform the duties in the future or to assist their master's training—none had to go through the rigorous training planned for John. And in most cases, body servants in training for the family business weren't expected to perform household duties or sexual services on top of that.

But John was happy that he was up to the challenge. After finishing the first exercises, things calmed down a bit for him. He still had many books to read, but the teacher for his advanced physics lessons only had limited time for him, a fact that Rodney complained about vigorously in the letters he sent John.

They regularly exchanged letters. John outlined his progress and sometimes asked Rodney for feedback. Over time John learned that Rodney welcomed critical thinking. One time he wrote, "Yes, yes, yes, you're exactly right!" when John questioned a particular passage in one of the books that Rodney had sent him. From then on John commented on contradictions or outdated sections in books, simply to read Rodney's replies when he colorfully agreed and expanded on just how very, very wrong these people were.

They started writing about other things too. Rodney mentioned a book that was apparently popular in Atlantia at the moment. When John pointed out that the library at the Academy was limited and he couldn't order anything, Rodney sent him the book in question and a few others.

From then on Rodney's packages always contained at least one book that wasn't for John's scientific training. He had a particular fondness for science fiction and tearing apart its inconsistencies with real science.

Rodney never asked after John's progress in his sexual training. After some time of concentrating only on the technical aspects, John got so good at it that he elicited quite vocal responses from the volunteers he serviced. John found that beyond wanting to be good at it in order not to disappoint Rodney, he liked sucking a guy's cock. He loved making it good for them, and experimenting with how fast he could make them come or how long he could keep them on the edge. He felt a sense of power and control that was otherwise lacking in his life. And then, there was a certain emotional component.

John didn't know the guys that he jerked off and blew, but sometimes he closed his eyes and imagined that the cock in his mouth was Rodney's instead of a stranger's. There was something special about imagining doing this with Rodney, and on those occasions John sometimes got hard. John never climaxed in his encounters with the Atlantean volunteers. Some had offered to touch him or even to reciprocate, but John always declined. He was training to make this good for Rodney. Being touched and sucked would be for himself, and some part of him wanted that to remain Rodney's only.

Sexual training could take many forms. Some masters sent detailed instructions on exercises and positions. Some wanted their body servants to practice with volunteers, while others instructed them to use only their own hands and sex toys they were sent.

Those instructions weren't always followed, of course. John knew a few of his peers regularly fucked each other. He'd heard talk about how good it was and he had to admit he was a bit curious, but at the same time he didn't want to betray Rodney's trust. Rodney had asked him specifically to train for hand jobs and blow jobs, so that was what he did. The only thing that he allowed himself beyond that was masturbating. He was pretty certain that Rodney wouldn't mind, especially considering that John always thought about Rodney when he did it.

John had only seen him once but he still remembered Rodney's arrogance when he had dressed Drake down, the flush on his cheeks when he'd decided that he would want to have sex with John, and his eyes when he'd called John pretty. Rodney's exact features were getting a bit dim in his memory, though.

After wishing more than once for a painting of Rodney to remind him of his master, John decided simply to ask.

Rodney had told him early on to ask if he needed anything. Unlike some of his peers John was pretty undemanding, so he rarely took Rodney up on the offer. When he asked for tools like a compass and a simple lens system for his scientific curriculum, Rodney sent him a full-blown telescope. But John had never asked for anything personal.

He was a bit nervous about making this request, and he sincerely hoped that Rodney wouldn't think John was being stupid. Rodney derided anything useless, and this certainly wasn't anything that John needed for his studies. John didn't offer any reasons for his request. In his next letter he simply added, "Would you mind sending me a portrait of yourself?"

After making the request, John waited nervously for Rodney's answer. It seemed to take forever though it was really only two days, not unusual for a response from Rodney. However, his letter didn't even mention John's request but focused on other topics.

John sighed to himself. He was relieved that Rodney hadn't ridiculed him, but also disappointed that his wish hadn't been granted. However, this was Rodney, and John could clearly imagine that he'd never had the patience to sit down to have his portrait painted. At least John could still fantasize about Rodney, not to mention actually see him again in a few months.

~~

Confirmation took place one year after Pre-Selection.

The future masters visited their body servants in training to check up on them and their progress in person. Unlike the first meeting it was common for the majority of the visit to take place in the body servant's room, giving him and his future master some privacy.

Some masters and their body servants used the opportunity to put into practice the sexual training that the body servant had undergone. Drake's body servant in training talked about little else. He bragged how Drake was going to fuck him six ways to Sunday.

He wasn't the only one who looked forward to having sex with his master. Others feared the day, getting pale just thinking about it. John had seen how some of the guys had been after their sexual training sessions—he'd walked past doors that didn't quite muffle the sobs completely. But he couldn't afford to let it get to him. He could offer neither help nor hope.

One of the body servants had left them after getting instructions on his sexual training. From one day to the next he was gone. John hoped being a regular servant offered him the freedom he needed.

Their options in life were so limited. He'd learned that very early in his Academy training. He'd gone to get his gardening chores done before breakfast and witnessed two Academy servants removing the body of one the older body servants in training who had hanged himself from a balcony over the courtyard. John had sworn to himself on that day that he'd never be like that. He'd run away and fight to the death before he took his own life.

Then Rodney had chosen him and John's uncertain future suddenly had an element of hope, though John was well aware that there were no guarantees in life. Confirmation required masters to appear in person and confirm the selection they had made a year earlier at Pre-Selection. For the most part it was a formality, but masters did sometimes change their minds. In addition, in rare cases, a young Atlantean married as soon as he left his home and no longer needed his body servant in training. Impending fatherhood was the usual reason for such marriages, and it meant that the new household would already have house servants under the supervision of the lady of the house.

Rodney had never once written about women in a romantic or sexual way. He'd only mentioned a few female scientists—still a rarity, though less so in recent years—and his sister. But then, Rodney had also never mentioned John's sexual training again, and John had no reason to assume he'd changed his mind about it. Maybe it was simply the general nervousness at the Academy among those of John's age that made John slightly apprehensive.

His academic training had gone quite well. Dr. Frederickson of the McKay Laboratories was impressed with his progress. John was no longer taking math classes at the Academy because he'd learned everything the teacher had to teach him. But Rodney wasn't easy to satisfy. He had high expectations of John, and every time John met his expectations he set higher goals until, inevitably, John was forced to disappoint him. As much as he studied he was not as good in the subject matter as Rodney, who seemed to breathe science like air.

John hated every time he got something wrong or didn't understand a concept, but he also knew that he had to get used to it because Rodney would always be a few steps ahead of him. It was okay. Rodney never made a big deal out of it, but it was one of the things that John thought about when he overheard others wondering if their master would confirm them.

~~

Three weeks before Confirmation Day, John started making plans.

He wanted to surprise Rodney with a lunch he cooked himself, which meant he had to make an official request well in advance. The kitchen would need to stock the ingredients he needed and schedule a time for him to use some of the equipment to cook.

He'd also worked diligently on an advanced math problem that Dr. Frederickson had introduced him to. He wanted to present the solution to Rodney when he could actually see his reaction.

If he was honest about it, a great part of his nervousness was simply seeing Rodney again in person. They'd only had a very short time together at Pre-Selection, and most of that hadn't even been spent interacting with each other. They'd been strangers—ones who might have taken an instant liking to each other, but still strangers.

Now, he had pages upon pages of correspondence he'd exchanged with Rodney, bringing them so much closer together. He'd read stories about Rodney's childhood, his family, his plans for changing the future of Atlantia through science. He knew that Rodney liked to tease, that his honesty was brutal but heartfelt, that his impatience was surpassed by his intolerance for stupidity. Though, to be fair, he'd gotten hints of that even at Pre-Selection.

John and Rodney had been strangers back then, and now they were...John didn't really have a word for it. It sometimes felt like friendship when Rodney recommended a book to him, suggesting that John might like it because it contained "some silly monsters". It felt like colleagues when Rodney corresponded about a project and asked John for input. And when John lay in bed at night, thinking about blowing Rodney and making him call out John's name, it felt like something else altogether.

But at the same time, John could and would never forget that he was Rodney's body servant in training. He'd heard stories of body servants who'd forged deep friendships with their masters and even one tale of love, which he didn't quite trust because it seemed too much like legend. But most of those stories had a common theme: in the end, the master chose a wife and the body servant was sent elsewhere. Not always, of course. Some body servants remained in their masters' service for the rest of their lives. Even those who became general house servants or worked in the family business sometimes remained close to their masters. But when a master became a husband and father, the life he'd previously led with only his body servant as companion was irreversibly changed.

However he and Rodney fashioned their relationship, John was going to keep in mind that it would change in a few years. At the end of the day, he was a slave and Rodney was his owner.

~~

A few days after requesting permission to prepare a special lunch on Confirmation Day, John was called into the mail room. He was always happy to get mail from Rodney but this time there was a package as well, and from its size it wasn't a book.

John quickly took it to his room and ripped open the packaging, gasping when he found a portrait of Rodney looking at him with a slightly arrogant expression. John had to grin. Rodney had granted his request, and the particular pose seemed so fitting to John that he affectionately stroked Rodney's painted image.

He pulled his hand away, flushing at his own silliness, and then read the letter that accompanied the painting.

"John,

"A few weeks ago you requested a portrait of me. Unfortunately—or rather, fortunately—I've been able to evade attempts by my father or sister to have my portrait painted in the last couple of years. I do not see why either of them need an image of me when they can see me every day.

"You, however, have a legitimate reason to ask for my portrait, so I had one made as soon as time permitted. I admit that I very much look forward to seeing you again at Confirmation. I seem to recall rather ridiculous hair, and that I could understand why Berenson—the idiot—had taken such a fancy to you."

He went on to talk about other things, but John only skimmed over the rest of the letter before setting the portrait against the wall beside his bed. He slid under the bedcovers and slipped a hand into his underwear, around his cock.

Rodney's letter was nothing compared to the graphic details in the sexual instructions some of the other masters sent their body servants in training. There was nothing sexual in it at all. Hell, Rodney didn't even explicitly mention his feelings about John's looks and body—except for the dig at John's hair—but still, reading that one line brought back the surprise in Rodney's eyes when he'd first looked at John and called him pretty.

It brought back how Rodney had flushed and communicated his desire to have sex with John by promising to send instructions. Now he had a painting of Rodney with his slanted mouth and blue eyes—the first time in almost a year that John could see him in a way. Combined with months of sexual fantasies that centered around Rodney, the little reminder that Rodney was attracted to him was enough to make John hard and panting with want.

He stroked his cock, looking at the painting and imagining what it would be like when he could finally suck Rodney's cock. He wanted to pleasure him and be pleasured. He wanted to show Rodney that his sexual training had progressed as well as his scientific studies. In fact, he'd gotten so good at it that it bored him. The only excitement he felt at this point was when he imagined Rodney instead of a nameless stranger. Bringing off the Atlantean volunteers was no longer a challenge and it also didn't give him satisfaction any longer to have that bit of power over them.

He wanted Rodney to shout out and lose control, not other men. He wanted Rodney to praise him and touch him. He wanted Rodney to flush and call him pretty again without conscious thought.

John came rather quickly, Rodney's words and visual reminder stimulating him even more than his usual fantasies.

Afterwards he lay panting in bed and looked at Rodney's face, which seemed smug now that John thought about it. Not unjustifiably so, John figured.

~~

The excitement over Confirmation Day became almost unbearable in the last days leading up to it. It seemed that everywhere, someone was running or shouting or wringing their hands over something or other.

There were those who desperately searched for the gifts and portraits that they'd carelessly thrown aside after receiving them. Some tried to make up for a year of slacking in their training, going over books and shouting at others to help them. Others tried to dress up their rooms or their own bodies to impress their masters.

John tried to ignore everything around him, concentrating on getting his proof in presentable form. In addition he kept nagging the kitchen, trying to make sure they hadn't forgotten his request, and going through Rodney's letters again, just in case he'd forgotten something.

The day before Confirmation he saw Drake's body servant in training walking around like a peacock, displaying his freshly waxed chest. John had no intention of removing hair on any part of his body other than his face unless Rodney asked him to. However, looking at himself in the mirror, he recalled Rodney's teasing mention of his hair.

John decided to try and tame it a bit, but that was easier said than done. Neither pomade nor wax did the trick. Errant strands refused to stay down, making him look ridiculous. When he got to the point of seriously considering trying glue, John admitted defeat and decided to leave it as it was. After all, Rodney had found him pretty despite his hair.

The night before Confirmation John mentally went through his proof again, certain that Rodney would question him about it. He also went over the cooking process for the meal he was going to prepare for Rodney. Once there was nothing left to do but sleep, he turned to Rodney's portrait, which was barely visible in the faint moonlight.

John had masturbated thinking about Rodney before his mental preparation. He did it every night, and sometimes during the day too when he got a new letter from Rodney. Rodney hadn't talked about what he wanted to do during Confirmation. In fact, he hadn't mentioned it at all, beyond saying that he was looking forward to seeing John again.

John, for his part, had thanked Rodney for the portrait and written that he was looking forward to seeing Rodney too. He'd also told Rodney not to eat beforehand, without going into the details of his lunch surprise. But other than that, their correspondence had been the normal back and forth. His excitement had come from his peers and the anticipation of seeing Rodney again, and maybe touching.

John tried not to hope for more than talking. Rodney's focus had always been on science—from the fact that he'd chosen John for his math skills to the books he sent and the arranged teacher. Rodney could write pages discussing a new theory or invention. If John had been someone different, Rodney might not have wanted sex as part of his service at all.

Chances were that Rodney would spend the afternoon asking questions and drifting off into deep discussions about some topic or another, and John was truly looking forward to it.

Anything else would be a bonus.

~~

When John entered the Great Hall with the others, he was nearly bouncing on his toes with excitement. He'd had to wait to use the kitchen and had barely managed to cook his meal in time to freshen up and get dressed. The other body servants in training were equally excited, some fearful. John's eyes were on the door, though, when it was opened to let in the future masters.

These masters had come early to find their body servants in training. Some looked rather eager themselves, especially the first ones. Drake was among this group. He scanned the crowd as soon as he came in, though his gaze didn't stop on his body servant in training as one might expect. John was the one who caught his attention. John looked back to the other masters entering the room but he could feel Drake's eyes on him, and when his gaze flitted back to Drake, he saw that Drake was still watching him. John tried to ignore him, focusing on the masters still arriving.

As time went on, entering masters began to wear expressions of boredom. For masters who only intended to have their body servants in training take care of the household, signing off on their selection in person must seem bothersome. In fact, some masters were already leaving.

John took a moment to look around the Great Hall. Most of the master and body servant pairs had left to go to the body servants' rooms. A few stood around the officials logging the masters' confirmations. Some fellow body servants in training were still waiting for their masters to appear.

And Drake still stood not too far from the door, staring at John. His body servant in training had found him and was standing next to him now, but Drake ignored him. Drake's gaze was predatory, as if waiting to make a move on John. His body servant was staring daggers at John.

John turned back to the door. The stream of masters entering had slowed to a trickle and nearly stopped. Those arriving now were already late, but John didn't panic. Rodney wouldn't forget this date. He could lose track of time if his anecdotes were anything to go by, but John was sure that he would be aware of the importance of this day. If nothing else, Rodney wouldn't want his investment of a year to go to waste.

Though, John had to admit that it did hurt a bit that Rodney wasn't one of the first, one of those who'd been eagerly waiting to see their body servants in training.

Time passed. More masters left. A few servants brought messages from would-be masters, to the disappointment or relief of their body servants in training. John didn't even want to contemplate what he'd do if Rodney didn't confirm him.

Worst of all, Drake was steadfastly refusing to budge, though his body servant was all but begging him if his body language was any guide, giving Drake puppy-dog eyes and sultry looks by turns. It was pretty humiliating in John's eyes, but then Drake had already made it very clear that he didn't care about his body servant in training. Or, at least, he wouldn't if he could have John.

John had to force himself to stand his ground when Drake walked over to an official, asking after Rodney and offering to take over John should Rodney fail to confirm him.

If Drake's body servant in training had been staring daggers before, he was now shooting mental fireballs with poisonous flames. It would probably be good to watch his step in the future, John thought. Drake's body servant in training was larger than John, but he didn't work out as much, so John was pretty sure he could take him. John could live without being punished for defending himself, though, so he hoped it wouldn't come to that.

When over an hour had passed, John did begin to worry. Maybe Rodney had planned to come and then gotten distracted by an experiment, or his carriage had broken down, or he had fallen sick. Apart from his citrus allergy, Rodney also needed to eat regularly. John could only hope that he hadn't taken John's request to mean that he shouldn't eat at all, for the whole day. John would never forgive himself if he'd caused Rodney to pass out. He tried very hard to stay positive and ignore all the terrible scenarios his mind was coming up with, like the threat of Drake taking over should Rodney not arrive.

John wasn't entirely sure about the specifics of what happened when a master didn't show up for Confirmation. He'd never cared to find out because he hadn't seriously thought it would happen. He knew for a fact that masters could request to postpone Confirmation to the next month. One of the masters had asked for that because he couldn't come on this day. However, Rodney hadn't made such a request, nor had he sent a servant today. He also hadn't sent anyone to decline Confirmation, but as far as John knew, failure to show up was equal to rejecting Confirmation. He had no reason to believe that Drake would be denied if he asked to officially claim John as his.

John didn't know what he would do if that happened. Run away immediately before Drake's previous body servant in training could try to kill him? Or should he take a risk and wait for a response from Rodney to see if he could explain his absence and ask them to overturn Drake's claim to John? What if Rodney simply stopped writing? What if he'd been forced to marry and didn't know how to tell John, let alone face him?

Thankfully John's worst-case scenarios were interrupted when the door to the Great Hall flew open and Rodney's back entered the room, followed by a large contraption on wheels, which he was pulling. John's heart skipped a beat and he had to remind himself to breathe.

Rodney stopped, let go of the cube-like thing, and looked around. His gaze fell on Drake and they stared at each other for a moment, then Rodney continued to turn until he saw John, who was still frozen in place.

"Ah, there you are," Rodney said, sounding slightly out of breath. "Will you please help me?" It was what John needed to finally move. He rushed over to Rodney and saw that the cuboid was actually made of various parts and pieces that seemed to be gadgets in their own right.

"Let's get this to your room. And please tell me you have food there," Rodney said. "If not, I'll have to re-think your Confirmation."

Before John could reassure Rodney—and himself—Drake stepped forward.

Rodney turned around. "In your dreams, idiot. You'll get John over my dead body," he said, eyes narrowing. Then he turned back to John, looking thoughtful. "Which will happen sooner than you like if I don't get something to eat soon."

John was pretty sure that he was joking, or at least exaggerating, but he said anyway, "Food's waiting. If you give me a few minutes, I can warm it up."

"I think I'll survive," Rodney said dramatically. "Where to?"

John smiled. "Follow me," he said, pulling the cuboid to his room, Rodney right behind him.

~~

John quickly reheated the casserole he'd prepared in one of the ovens that was still warm and went back to his room, where Rodney was munching on some bread that John had given him to tide him over.

"Finally," Rodney said.

John put a plate down in front of Rodney. He'd set up a small table with chairs for them to eat lunch. Rodney dug in and to John's delight made an approving sound. "This is good," he said around a mouthful of casserole. After swallowing it, he added, "I didn't know you could cook."

"I figured it would be useful," John said with a shrug, starting to eat as well. "It's the only optional course I'm taking."

"And you're as good at it as at math," Rodney said, stuffing his face. "And sorry about making you wait. I was well on time, but the stupid coachman wouldn't let me tie it to the top of the carriage," he said, waving his spoon behind him towards the corner where the cuboid stood. "He said it was a safety hazard. As if I would let anything happen to it!" Rodney was clearly outraged at the idea of damaging...whatever it was.

"Uhm, what is it?" John asked when Rodney didn't seem forthcoming.

"Oh," Rodney said, eyes lighting up. "It's a portable lab," he said proudly.

John's mouth opened, but he didn't know what to say.

"Since my father won't let me work at our labs until I'm married, I have my own little lab at home," Rodney explained as he continued eating. "You're doing so well with your studies that I wanted to give you your own lab for Confirmation, but when I asked my father to arrange it, he refused! He said I could choose one tool to bring along, which is entirely pointless. It's like saying use one letter to write a book. Unfortunately he couldn't be convinced, so I started putting together the various lab tools you would need and modifying them so that they can be assembled as one block. I added the wheels for easy transportation. Actually, I think I've outdone myself—the applications for it are numerous. It makes it so much easier to bring your equipment along on vacation or other occasions. It's always been such a hassle to pack everything up, but with this portable lab it's a breeze. I'm going to make one for myself next. And I'm going to patent it, because it's brilliant."

John could only nod along. And he couldn't quite believe what Rodney had built—for him.

"It still needs to be documented," Rodney continued while eating. "I think it would be best if you took over that part. You have access to it now and your penmanship is better than mine. Wait, are you taking drawing lessons? You need to create schematics for the parts. I never told you to take drawing lessons, did I?"

"I'll see what I can do," John said, stopping Rodney's flow of words for a moment. "You'll need to explain to me what you want," he added, because right now the cuboid looked like a three-dimensional puzzle with irregular shapes. The Academy had a workshop, but he was pretty sure nothing in there was as sophisticated as Rodney's portable lab. Or at least, nothing that the body servants in training were given access to.

"Of course," Rodney said. "We should start right away. Are you done?" He pushed the last spoonful of casserole into his mouth.

"Uhm, actually, there's dessert," John said. "I'll get it." He quickly got up.

When he returned, Rodney had already started to disassemble the cuboid. John set down the dessert in Rodney's place and resumed eating the rest of his casserole.

"What's this? Bananas?" Rodney asked. He poked at the sticky coating and then carefully tasted a banana slice. "Oh, honey!"

John smiled. "I found it in one of the books our instructor allowed us to look through."

"'sh delishioush", Rodney said with a full mouth.

While John finished his casserole, Rodney wolfed down the dessert. When they were both done, John suggested, "Let's get to the portable lab. We don't have much time left." They actually still had a few hours, but John had the feeling disassembling the cube and re-assembling the tools it was made up of would take some time.

"What about your dessert?" Rodney asked.

"I'm good," John said.

"I can start working on the lab while you eat," Rodney said. "Go ahead and get yours." He made a shooing motion.

"I only made one portion," John admitted.

"Oh," Rodney said. "You don't like it?" he asked doubtfully.

"Actually," John said, squirming a bit, "since we're not allowed to order anything ourselves"—not that that was possible since he had no money—"I had to make a special request for the banana. I did some chores in exchange, but they only allow a limited amount for special requests... It helped that it was for Confirmation." John felt slightly embarrassed about his situation. He certainly didn't want Rodney to feel bad about it. It simply was what it was, and he'd gladly done the chores to cook something special for Rodney.

Rodney stared at him. Then he slapped his hands on the table. "Okay, here's what we're going to do. You'll send me a list of what you want each week, and I'll make sure you get it."

"That's really not necessary," John protested. It hadn't been in any way his intention to extract gifts from Rodney. Some of the other body servants in training with rich masters manipulated their generosity sometimes to get gifts, but John didn't feel that was right. He preferred working for everything that he got. And though he had worked quite hard on his education, Rodney hadn't benefitted up to this point.

"I insist," Rodney said.

"I have enough opportunities to learn to cook. It's not like we don't get any ingredients at all. It's good to learn to make do with what you have," John said.

"But once we live together you need to be able to pick and choose. You'll decide what to buy and then prepare it. Or what if I feel like something that you never get here?" Rodney asked.

"I'm sure I'll be able to handle it," John said.

"I am too," Rodney said. "Beginning next week, if you don't send me a list, I'll just send you random ingredients. Don't think you're getting out of this. And if you want to repay me somehow, you can send me some of your creations if they'll keep for the time it takes to have someone deliver them."

"Thank you," John said, giving up.

"Good," Rodney said, nodding decisively. "Now let's get to the lab. It will be tough to disassemble everything, and I want to explain as much as possible for the documentation that you'll write."

John nodded and they started.

~~

"What? Already?" Rodney said when the bell rang and someone ran through the hall announcing that Confirmation would end in fifteen minutes.

They'd spent the last hours taking the lab apart and going through its components. John had jotted down notes about the particulars Rodney wanted for the documentation. They were still in the process of actually trying a few things, but that was now cut short.

"I'll see what I can do with it myself and send you any questions I have and the first draft of the documentation as I write it," John assured him.

"But I've only just arrived. We didn't even get to talk about what experiments you might want to do and if you want a different teacher," Rodney complained.

"Just tell me in your letters," John said.

"It's completely senseless that I don't get to see you again until we move in together," Rodney said.

John didn't say anything. He certainly would like to see Rodney more often. Watching him explain things was fascinating. The way he moved his hands was unlike anything John had seen, and when Rodney's eyes lit up in excitement, John wanted to bask in the shared experience. Even if it had only been a few hours, John knew that their time together today would feed his masturbation fantasies in the next year.

"Was there anything you wanted to tell me or ask me?" Rodney asked. "Is there something you need? I keep forgetting that you don't have access to...well, anything. So please do let me know if you run out of oil or gas or if anything breaks."

"I'll be fine," John said. Before Rodney could berate him again, he added, "And I do have something for you." He picked up the written proof from the drawer in his nightstand and handed it to Rodney.

John bit his lip, watching as Rodney scanned the paper. "That's—" Rodney said, looking up at John with wide eyes. "I'll have to go through it in more detail—and I would have loved to go through it with you; you should have given it to me sooner—but it looks very impressive. I mean..." He looked at the paper again, then at John. The gaze was so intense that John felt himself flush.

There was another announcement in the hall, reminding everyone to officially confirm the body servants in training if they hadn't done so already.

"Oh god, did I confirm you already?" Rodney asked.

"Not officially," John said.

Rodney stood up, grabbing the jacket that he'd set aside. "I wish we had more time. I wish we could go through the lab in detail and through your proof and..." He looked at John, gaze dipping to John's mouth.

John swallowed.

"But I should make sure that you'll be officially confirmed. Wouldn't want Berenson to get any ideas," Rodney said, moving towards the door, but stopping right in front of John.

"No," John agreed. They stood so close that he could smell Rodney. He wanted to bury his face in Rodney's neck to take in more of his scent. Really, he wanted more than just that. For a year now he'd gotten Rodney's intelligence and wit, his creativity and bombast, in letters, but he hadn't been able to look at him, or talk to him, or touch him.

"John," Rodney said quietly.

John leaned forward in a silent plea for just a bit more to hold him over the next twelve months.

Rodney breathed in and out, looking into John's eyes, and then closed his eyes and the gap between their lips. The kiss was awkward for a second when their mouths didn't quite match up, but then John tilted his head and took Rodney's face in his hands and it was perfect.

"Thank you," John murmured, staying close to Rodney.

Rodney moved right back in for their second kiss. "We should have left the lab alone and gone to bed," Rodney said. "Did you learn to..." He trailed off, flushing.

John only nodded and dropped down to his knees.

"Oh god," Rodney said when John opened his pants.

"I'll hurry," John said, well aware that someone might come for them in a moment. He couldn't let this chance go by. For a year he'd practiced sucking other men's members, thinking about Rodney, and now he could finally get a real taste of him. He took the rapidly hardening shaft in his hand.

"I don't think that'll be a problem," Rodney said, voice sounding strained.

John leaned forward to lick the tip of Rodney's cock. Listening to his responses, he took the head in his mouth, sucking while his tongue ran over and around it, catching every bit of fluid that escaped.

"John," Rodney whispered.

John relaxed his throat and started taking in more of Rodney's cock, moving further and further.

Rodney bowed forward, making it a bit easier for John to take him. He put his hands on John's head, kneading it. Incoherent sounds fell from his lips.

John paused, moving back and forth, licking and sucking as he went, taking in more and more. Eventually he'd taken in all of Rodney's cock, and his nose was buried in Rodney's pubic hair.

Rodney was panting loudly at this point, moving in minute little thrusts. John swallowed around him and somehow managed to undo his own pants enough to take out his cock.

In only a few strokes Rodney said, "Oh god, you're..." and started coming.

John nursed him through it, drinking every drop of Rodney's come, even as he stroked himself.

When he felt his climax approaching, he pulled away, letting Rodney's dick slip from his tongue. He looked up at Rodney's open mouth, reveled in the feeling of Rodney's hands holding his head, the taste of Rodney still on his tongue, and stroked himself to completion. The sight made Rodney groan once more, his spent member twitching.

There was a knock on the door. "Master Rodney. You still need to register your official Confirmation," a voice said, before steps moved away. John and Rodney just looked at each other for a moment, unable to move and still breathing hard.

"I need to confirm you," Rodney said. "Need to make sure that we get to do this whenever we want a year from now."

John nodded. He tried to gather the energy to get up.

Rodney tucked himself back in. "Do you want to stay?" he asked.

John shook his head, putting his own sensitive member in his pants and forcing himself to get up.

They quickly stumbled to the door, but before they could leave, Rodney pulled him into another kiss. "One more year," he mumbled. "Such cruel torture." He kissed John again and then opened the door.

They ran to the Great Hall together, looking for an official. Inside the room, Rodney bumped into Drake, who'd apparently been waiting. Rodney only gave him a disparaging look.

"I confirm John Sheppard," Rodney said to the official.

The man smiled, making a note in his book. "I didn't doubt you would." Then he turned to Drake, giving him a slightly exasperated look. "Will you now confirm your body servant in training?" The 'finally' was heavily implied.

Drake only nodded curtly.

John spared a glance at Drake's body servant in training, who stood completely stone-faced next to him. For someone who should have been thoroughly fucked for the last couple of hours, he didn't look very relaxed.

John was only happy that he was Rodney's body servant in training, now officially Confirmed. He smiled at Rodney.

Rodney smiled back. "I'll write you a letter as soon as I arrive home."

John's smile widened.

"And I'll see you in a year," Rodney said, longing in his voice.

John nodded. He would count the days, on one of the time measurement devices in the lab.

"We would like to call an end to Confirmation," the official informed them politely.

Rodney gave him an annoyed look. Then he sighed, looking at John. "This is goodbye for now."

"Only twelve months," John said, trying to be cheerful.

Rodney looked at him, his gaze wandering over John's face as if taking in every detail. John did the same, though in the end he got lost in Rodney's deep blue eyes.

The official cleared his throat.

"Yes, yes," Rodney said impatiently. Then he leaned forward and kissed John again. John kissed back, not caring about anyone watching them. He didn't think this was a common thing to do, but they weren't quite like other masters and their body servants.

Rodney eventually tore himself away, giving John one last longing look and then turning and walking down the Great Hall to the door. He hesitated, but didn't turn before walking through it.

John waited until he could no longer see Rodney. Then he turned, nearly walking straight into Drake, who stared at him. John ignored him and walked past. He had experiments to perform, documentation to write and, most importantly, memories to relive and fantasies to build on them.

~~

After dinner John played with his new lab, still not quite able to grasp what Rodney had built for him. He'd only had vague thoughts that it would be nice to confirm one of his calculations with an experiment, but he'd never expected to have his own lab to actually do it.

And the lab could do more than John would have ever hoped. It had a lens set-up, vials for chemical experiments, tools to do metal- or wood-craft, and even a small oven that could be used to melt metal, fire clay, and heat water for a small steam-powered engine.

He'd even be able to create his own sewing machine, which certainly wasn't something Rodney had in mind while building the lab. It would be highly useful to John, though—he'd never bothered to let out the clothes he'd grown out of because it seemed too much work by hand.

And he'd be able to do so many other small and not-so-small things. Like fix the little board with wheels he'd built years ago, but which kept breaking until John had given up. He'd be able to reinforce it with metal now.

The lab and its many uses would give him autonomy that was unheard of for body servants in training. Sure, some of them, especially those with masters from rich families, asked for and received particular things that were otherwise unavailable. But none of them had the ability to build and repair things the way he did now thanks to Rodney's incredibly generous gift.

He hadn't yet gone into the details of his gift with the others. Over dinner, one of the other body servants in training asked about the strange cuboid, but John only said he hadn't had time to fully look at it yet.

Drake's body servant in training had bragged about how amazing Drake had been, how they'd fucked, how many gifts he'd gotten. He hadn't looked in John's direction even once. John was glad that he was apparently determined to ignore John. He didn't know how many other body servants in training had witnessed his humiliation, his master holding out for another person before confirming him. John wasn't going to point it out. He felt no particularly ill-will towards Drake's body servant in training. He didn't have a lot to do with him anyway, since they didn't share any classes. In fact John had to think before he could recall his name—David.

When David bragged about his master, John felt only pity. David hadn't chosen his life any more than John had. Seeing Drake with David today only reinforced how lucky John was to have Rodney.

Later that evening John was called to the Academy entrance where a messenger gave him a letter. He went back to his room, settling down in his bed and reading Rodney's letter.

The first part consisted of more or less organized suggestions for experiments John might want to do, as if Rodney had tried to simply jot down anything that came to his mind that he'd forgotten to mention when he'd been with John. But then Rodney wrote:

"I will detail my thoughts on your proof in a separate letter. I wish you had given it to me sooner. Or actually, I wish that we hadn't talked about science at all."

John gasped when he read those words, because for Rodney to say something like that was unthinkable.

"We've had a year and will have another year to discuss your education and work through our correspondence, but we only had this one day to actually see each other. I never understood the masters who only use their body servants for sexual gratification. I still don't. The thought of wasting your mind is abhorrent to me, but at the same time I cannot deny that what is most sharply in my mind as I write these lines is the sight of you on your knees pleasuring me and yourself so expertly.

"I would have loved to touch more of you. I would have loved to taste your pleasure. I'm not even sure I can fully grasp everything I want us to do with each other.

"Rest assured that I look forward to the day we can discuss science and explore each other without interruptions. From now on, not a night will go by that I don't think of you when I touch myself. I will not ask you to do the same. But if you do happen to think of me sometimes, I will gladly share some of my fantasies with you.

"Thank you for this unforgettable day,
"Rodney"

John slipped his hand into his pants, imagining that Rodney was doing the same now. He conjured up Rodney's face, his smell, the weight of his stiff member in John's mouth. He thought about Rodney touching himself and then thought about Rodney touching him and about touching Rodney.

He rapidly stroked his hard shaft, imagining it was Rodney's hand, imagining Rodney on top of him, looking down at him, making sweet noises and losing all control and coherence. John came remembering Rodney's hands in his hair and his taste on his tongue.

Twelve more months and he'd have him again—and so much more.

~~

Time flew by after Confirmation. John still had classes, though fewer in number as teachers ran out of things to teach him. Instead he occupied himself with his lab, first with the documentation that he wrote for Rodney and then with actual experiments based on Rodney's suggestions and done on his own.

He also quickly became the person to see if something needed to be fixed.

John had mostly kept to himself over the years, but even though he still didn't believe that investing in friendships was wise considering their situation as little more than property, he felt enough kinship with his fellow body servants in training to share his lab with them if they needed something.

Not everyone liked the new status this gave John. Some who were used to the admiration of their peers based on their ability to procure food or toys or other things from their masters were especially disgruntled, but even most of them eventually made their way to John to get something done with the help of his lab.

It probably helped that he treated everyone equally. He favored no one and only turned people down when what they wanted required materials that he didn't have. Sharing his lab with the others had serious advantages in that regard, though. John soon found that a steady stream of wood, coal, metal scrap, and other resources found their way to him in return for his help or as leftovers that he was allowed to keep.

He also earned other kinds of favors. People were willing to switch chores with him or simply do them for him. He didn't always accept those offers because he wanted to stay self-sufficient, and he would have to be able to keep Rodney's household in order when they moved in together. However, it was nice to be able to stay at his lab when time was an issue and have someone else do a chore that couldn't wait. And favors also took other forms, like the book with instructions for pleasuring your master that found its way to him.

The book had been sent by Drake to David so that he could train himself more fully in the art of sexual stimulation and satisfaction. After he'd read it and told others about it, he'd magnanimously lent it to others who were eager to please their master—or themselves.

Unlike David, John had never explicitly talked about his sexual education. Others knew that he had serviced Atlantean volunteers, but they didn't know what he did with them or that he had pleasured Rodney when he'd been there for Confirmation. A few had seen them kiss, he was sure, and he knew for a fact that David must have seen it, but unlike some others John never advertised that he was eager to learn more about pleasuring his master.

In fact, he had stopped practicing on the Atlantean volunteers. He didn't think there was more for him to learn about bringing a man to climax with his mouth, and he had never considered giving them access to any more of his body. Rodney hadn't asked him to train for more, but even if he had, it was something that John preferred to give only to Rodney once they were living together. He wanted to prepare himself for that in other ways, and had started experimenting with his fingers and a small toy which he fashioned with his lab.

Thus far the experiments had been more painful than pleasurable, and John had the feeling that he was doing something wrong. Surely all of his peers who'd fucked weren't lying about how great it was. So John gladly took the instructions when they were offered to him in trade by a body servant in training who'd gotten David's book—or maybe it would better be called Drake's book. John was well aware of its origin, but his need to prepare himself correctly to take Rodney into his body was more important than the discomfort of taking anything from Drake. He was just borrowing the book in any case and was going to pass it on as soon as he was done with it.

He started reading at night, when he was less likely to be disturbed. The book described sexual acts in graphic detail, not just in words but with pictures. John hardened at the sight of the images. He thumbed through the book until he got to the chapter on anal intercourse. He skimmed the pages, learning about anatomy and feeling a bit stupid that he hadn't thought of using oil or grease to ease the entry of his fingers or his little insertable.

Getting up from the bed, he said a silent thanks to Rodney for the lab, which allowed him to simply get some grease instead of having to wait until he could get some from the kitchen or workshop. He lay back in bed and started stroking his entrance as the book described, giving himself time to enjoy the sensation and relax before he pushed his finger further inside.

It was much better with the grease easing the way. John stroked himself with his other hand, trying to maintain an erection. It wasn't as uncomfortable as it had been before, but he still didn't think he'd found his prostate. He kept pushing further, moving his finger until sensation shot through his body. His hips jerked up, and he lost his place deep inside his body. He quickly turned onto his stomach and half-knelt, pushing his finger back in, even as he kept rubbing his hard member.

When he found that spot again, he bit his lip to keep from crying out, stroking himself rapidly and keeping up the pressure on the spot until he tensed and came. He collapsed onto the bed panting.

Oh yeah, he definitely wanted Rodney to fuck him as soon as possible.

~~

John quickly read through the rest of Drake's book in the next days. Not all of it appealed to him. One image of a contorted body in bondage made him scratch his head, and the description of dripping candle wax on sensitive skin only reminded him of the times he'd burned his fingers while cooking, which wasn't arousing in any way. Some other things left him intrigued rather than excited, but he was quite all right with that because there was more than enough that he was looking forward to doing with Rodney. Of course, he'd have to learn Rodney's preferences in any case.

In his first letter after Confirmation Day John had confessed to Rodney that he did think about him when he masturbated and that he would love to hear Rodney's fantasies. Rodney hadn't answered that part of John's letter immediately. His next letter had been about John's proof, suggesting how to state a few parts more elegantly or clearly but overall complimenting John on what he'd done.

The letter after that had given John some feedback on the first pages of his documentation and a few paragraphs of his normal banter, where Rodney told him about his life and work. John enjoyed every bit of Rodney's correspondence, but he was a bit disappointed that he hadn't followed up on his offer to share his fantasies.

When that letter finally arrived it was, once again, delivered by messenger. John wasn't sure whether it was for speed, to satisfy Rodney's desire to know precisely when John received the letter, or to make sure that no one but John read it. Truthfully, he didn't care.

He rushed back to his room and read it, relieved to find that Rodney finally disclosed one of his fantasies. Soon he was aroused and he climaxed as he made Rodney's words come to life in his mind, stroking himself as if Rodney's hands were touching him.

The pattern continued. Rodney's regular correspondence was delivered to the Academy with the books, food, and occasional lab materials he sent. Letters that he sent via messenger contained descriptions of sexual encounters between them.

While Rodney's fantasies did vary each time, so far they had only consisted of oral and manual sexual activities. After reading Drake's book and fingering himself with great success, John found himself hoping for more. Rodney had previously invited him to share his own fantasies if he wanted. John tried to create a scenario the way Rodney did, but he found he simply couldn't craft words the way Rodney could to make a scene come to life. He finally wrote to Rodney that he wasn't as talented at writing as Rodney was, but assuring him that he enjoyed Rodney's imagination very much.

Now John toyed with the idea of writing a scenario that involved Rodney fucking him. But as he sat at his desk, the words just wouldn't come. He kept flushing hotly at the idea of pouring his fantasies onto paper, but at the same time he longed for Rodney to know that he would enjoy more if Rodney was up for it.

He'd passed on the book with sexual instructions and couldn't bring himself to ask for it again, even though it might have helped him find the words for the things he wanted Rodney to do with him. Eventually, it occurred to him that there was a way to solve two problems at once.

In his next letter he told Rodney about the book, and asked if it might be possible for Rodney to get him a copy so that he could prepare himself more fully for the time when they shared a household. He kept it general and didn't name anything specific he wanted to do. It had occurred to him that Rodney might not want to do certain things with him.

Since opening his lab for others to use, he'd come into closer contact with his peers, and he'd heard a few stories about the sexual acts the other masters wanted from their body servants in training. Not everyone wanted to fuck, apparently, even if they wished to be sexually serviced with hands or mouths.

"It wouldn't be like with their wife anyway," one of his peers had said.

John had to admit that it hadn't occurred to him that the purpose of sex between masters and their body servants could be nothing but preparation for their wives. That certainly wasn't the case with Drake or Rodney. But every master and body servant relationship was different, and it was good to be reminded of that.

John was certain that Rodney enjoyed the idea of sex with him for reasons that had nothing to do with his future wife. In fact, in all the letters he'd written, a wife had only come up when Rodney had lamented that he wasn't allowed to work at the family lab until he was married. But that didn't mean that Rodney would necessarily want to fuck him, so he hoped that Rodney would read the table of contents of the book and let him know what he was interested in.

John felt nervous after sending the letter with the request. After five regular letters from Rodney with no mention at all of his request, he wondered if the book or even just the request for it had somehow offended Rodney. He hoped that Rodney didn't think John wanted to do everything in the book, or that Rodney somehow felt obligated to indulge John if he was not interested in doing anything beyond sucking or stroking each other to climax.

John agonized over how to explain to Rodney that it had only been a suggestion. But he didn't want to seem too apologetic either, because Rodney disliked that. Maybe Rodney simply hadn't had time to purchase the book. It was hardly something he could do while strolling through shops with his younger sister. John tried to remain patient and calm down, not mentioning the book again, until finally he received word that a messenger was waiting for him at the gate.

He ran as fast as his feet could carry him. The messenger had a parcel for him this time instead of a letter, and it was the size of the book. John thanked him and rushed back to his room, ripping open the packaging to reveal the book and a letter.

"Dear John,

"Here is the book that you requested. After I was unable to find it in any of the bookstores, I visited Berenson to find out where he got it."

Oh god. John felt awful about having put Rodney in that position. It should have occurred to him that books about sexual practices wouldn't be easily available. He was so confined in the Academy that the world outside seemed to offer any freedom one could possibly want, which of course might not be the case, even for someone in Rodney's position.

"At first he refused to help me unless I promised him a night with you as recompense."

John felt nearly sick at the idea. Maybe he shouldn't have touched that book at all. It seemed that everything to do with Drake threatened to bring misery to John's life.

"I obviously didn't agree to that. He was finally convinced to comply when I suggested that my father might persuade his father to make him talk."

John sighed in relief. Not that he'd really expected Rodney to give him away like that. But the truth of the matter was that he was a servant and his service was at Rodney's pleasure. It could have been possible that Rodney wouldn't see a single night with Drake as a problem, especially since John had serviced other men before.

John also felt a pang of remorse for Drake. Rodney sounded like he'd been very forceful and, in this case, Drake hadn't even done anything to prompt Rodney's visit and request. But then John thought about what Drake probably would have done to him in one night had Rodney agreed to lend him out, and quickly got over his moment of pity.

"I looked at the book once I was able to procure it, and I have to admit I am glad that you are willing to offer me more than you already have."

Reading this, John realized that Rodney seemed to be under the impression that John wasn't as willing and eager as Rodney was when it came to the sexual component of their relationship. Nothing could be farther from the truth, and John regretted that he'd never been able to put his own fantasies into words. He'd hoped that the request for the book would finally convince Rodney how much John wanted him.

"And to avoid any further misunderstandings, I'm asking you to let me know what you would like to do with me. To be perfectly clear, I do not want you to force yourself to agree to do something out of misguided gratitude or something similarly idiotic. Please state your preferences as things you'd like to do, are open to trying, or would prefer not to do. You do not even have to refer to the act if you're feeling shy about it. The number of the chapter or page will suffice.

"I will not share my own preferences until I have received yours, in order not to influence you. Once again, please be honest with me, John. My sister accuses me of thinking of nobody but myself, but I assure you that your happiness in your life with me is very much in my thoughts.

"Rodney"

John cursed his inability to put into words how much he wanted Rodney. He knew that some of the body servants in training genuinely felt trapped by their masters' wishes. He didn't know if they'd ever tried to speak of their feelings or only suffered in silence, but he couldn't bear for Rodney to think that John was one of them.

He sat down at his desk and started to write a letter.

"Dear Rodney,

"There is nothing in the book that I wouldn't try with you, not because I think I have to, but because I think anything that we did together would be good simply for doing it with you.

"I have a hard time describing my fantasies the way you do, but I think of you every time I touch myself. I re-read your letters, imagining that it's your hands on my body. I remember your touch, your smell, your taste, and my body starts trembling at the memory.

"I can't wait for you to fuck me."

John flushed writing the words, but he pressed on.

"I fantasize about it every time I finger myself or insert an object into my ass. I've heard that other masters have sent their body servants a replica of their stiff member. If you do me the same honor I will fuck myself with it until the time when it can be your real live flesh that penetrates me. Or even better, make it a bit smaller than your true size so that when you come inside me the first time, I'll be fuller than I've ever been before."

John could feel that he was beet red. He had hardly been able to admit these wishes to himself and hadn't intended to share them with Rodney, but he needed Rodney to know how desperately he wanted him.

"I will share a detailed list of the favorite things I would like to try tomorrow, but now I will put this letter out to be mailed before I lose my nerve and you never receive it.

"Please never doubt that I want you, even if I can't put it into words the way you do.

"Faithfully yours,
"John"

Before he could change his mind, John put the letter in an envelope. Without rereading it he quickly rushed to the letterbox in the Academy mail room and pushed the letter inside.

He hoped that Rodney would finally understand John's feelings. Maybe he'd even get a dildo out of it.

~~

When John woke up the next morning and remembered the letter he'd written in the heat of the moment, he flushed.

He didn't regret it, but he still felt awkward about putting his feelings into words like that. He knew that he had promised Rodney he would compile a list of things he wanted to do, but he felt that he needed to calm down a bit before exposing even more of his fantasies.

He ran through the court yard, and when that still didn't relieve the fluttery feeling in his stomach, he decided to bake for Rodney.

Preparing meals always relaxed John, especially doing it for Rodney. Rodney had been true to his word and had started sending him ingredients to cook. At first John had simply tried to be creative with whatever Rodney sent him. He'd assumed that they were Rodney's favorite foods, but when they were never repeated and seemed rather random, John began to plan ahead and request certain things that he couldn't get in the Academy's kitchen.

He asked for Rodney's favorite foods but Rodney only wrote that as long as it didn't contain citrus he was pretty much happy. So John prepared varied meals, trying to get a broad feel for what ingredients went together. He wasn't a master in the kitchen by any means, but he was beginning to have a good grasp of what worked for particular kinds of food and what didn't, even if he hadn't combined them together before.

John ate everything that he cooked. The rest of his food—like everything that was prepared in the kitchen—went to the mess hall. However, exceptions were made if body servants in training wanted to send their creations to their masters. Normal meals were hard to send of course, so John tended to bake for Rodney.

Today John decided to make the little cakes he baked in cups. Rodney had written that he loved to have them around to eat when he couldn't tear himself away from his work and suddenly found himself hungry. John made them sweet or salty, with ingredients he had at hand. Today he decided to use strawberries from the garden.

While the cup cakes baked, he did his chores for the day, and by the time he wrapped the cakes up in a little basket, he felt ready to go through the book without too much nervousness.

He tried not to read the pages that described the sex acts. He wanted to make sure to be ready by the time a messenger collected their letters and packages, so he went through the table of contents rather than the book itself, only looking things up when he was unsure what they were.

He couldn't completely shut off his imagination of course. Especially for those things that went on his "would love to try this" list. The other options were "would like to try this" and "would try this if you wanted to". He explained again that he wouldn't have to force himself and that it wasn't due to some sense of gratitude, which was true. Even things like wax play and the contortions that looked like a cramp waiting to happen seemed to have a certain appeal when he imagined doing them with Rodney.

It occurred to John that even scrubbing the stables would seem an enjoyable task if he got to do it with Rodney. There was just something about Rodney's presence that mesmerized John. Or maybe it was the restrictions that were imposed on them for the moment. It could very well be that once he shared a household with Rodney, the magic of being with him would eventually wear off and be replaced by comfortable routine.

He didn't think he'd become indifferent to Rodney any time soon, though. And maybe it was better if Rodney's presence didn't have quite so profound an effect on him. After all, it wouldn't last forever.

~~

This time around, John didn't became anxious as he waited for Rodney's reply. If Rodney fulfilled his wish for a dildo, it would take some time to be made, and John was willing to wait. That was even more the case the next day when a messenger arrived without a package, but with a letter.

It was another of Rodney's fantasies. And this time—finally—it was one in which Rodney fucked him—bent him over the desk and pounded into him. John flushed at Rodney's words as he scanned them, eventually scrambling out of bed for some oil and his little insertable.

He fucked himself with it, reading Rodney's words, imagining Rodney filling him. The idea of Rodney's hands on his hips, Rodney's hard cock in his ass brought John quickly to completion.

Rodney didn't write about John's request, but John was sure he was looking into arranging it. And even if not, he was definitely going to prepare for Rodney to fuck him as soon as they saw each other again. He'd make a larger insertable as soon as he could.

~~

Rodney still hadn't sent the dildo when John was called into the office of one of the masters of the Academy. He was called out of his cooking class, and as John followed the servant, dread rose in him.

He'd never been called in before to speak to one of the masters. Lower-level officials dealt with the groups of body servants in training as they progressed through the Academy. They handed out punishments, resolved disputes, and kept an eye on the general progress of the trainees. Masters didn't get directly involved where body servants in training were concerned. John wasn't sure exactly what they did, except make sure that the other officials did their jobs, but he didn't think that being called into a master's office could mean anything good.

He wasn't aware of committing any egregious infractions. Switching chores wasn't officially sanctioned, nor was the little bartering he engaged in as part of allowing others to use his lab, but those were activities that most of the body servants in training engaged in. They were tacitly permitted as long as they didn't get out of hand and nobody extorted anyone else.

The lab itself had never met with disapproval from the officials who were assigned to him—quite the contrary. And there wasn't anything objectionable about it anyway. The Academy tended to view gifts from masters as beyond reproach. Even dangerous things like knifes weren't confiscated if they weren't misused, and John hadn't done anything with his lab but run a few experiments and create or fix a few harmless things.

He couldn't think of anything he'd done that would warrant being called into the master's office. Maybe this wasn't about him, but about Rodney. If John had worried before, he felt even worse as he contemplated what would require that he be notified by not just an official, but an Academy master. The most obvious thing would be that Rodney no longer required a body servant in training, but John couldn't imagine that. Not without Rodney telling him at least.

So the next reason that John could think of was...horrible. Rodney could be dead. The scientific progress of the last century had also applied to medical fields, but there were still many things people could and did die from even when they were young. Rodney's citrus allergy was the most obvious.

John could see him eating a cake or meal that he hadn't confirmed was citrus-free. Rodney's throat would close up, and maybe they'd try to save him by puncturing his neck as they'd done before. But maybe they hadn't been so lucky this time. Maybe Rodney had drowned in his own blood.

John wasn't sure if he should be grateful that they'd finally arrived at the master's office. He didn't want to continue imagining in graphic detail how Rodney might have met an untimely end, but if Rodney really was dead, he didn't want to hear it confirmed either.

The Academy servant who had escorted him knocked and opened the door for John, motioning him to go in. There were two people in the room. One sat behind the desk—one of the masters of the Academy John assumed—and another man in expensive clothing stood to the side. For a second John wondered if he might be Dr. McKay, Rodney's father, though he didn't look like Rodney at all.

John looked at the master, who smiled at him. John inwardly sighed in relief. The officials had different levels of sympathy for the body servants in training, but John had never seen them be cruel or take pleasure in the misery of their charges. This probably meant that Rodney wasn't dead.

"John," the master said. "I have received a request from Master Rodney. He would like to have your portrait drawn. With your permission." He raised his eyebrows at the last, acknowledging how unusual it was that Rodney would ask permission from his body servant in training, especially for something like this. "He has sent Mr. Rovus to create the portrait," the master added, nodding towards the other man.

Mr. Rovus. That name actually rang a bell for John. Combined with the fact that he was clearly a gentleman of Atlantia, John found himself speechless that Rodney would not only commission a portrait of him—a first in his group of body servants in training—but that he would hire a real artist to do it, not simply one of the craftsmen who did portraits as a service.

"John? Do you agree to have your portrait done by Mr. Rovus?" the master asked.

"Uh, yes, of course," John said.

The master smiled. "Very well. Mr. Rovus has permission to go anywhere he wants to find the best spot for a portrait."

"I would like to take advantage of the afternoon sun, so this is when I'd like to have you stand for me," Mr. Rovus said. "It shouldn't take longer than a few days."

John didn't know what to say.

"You'll be excused from your classes for the time being," the master told him. "Dr. Frederickson comes in in the mornings if I'm informed correctly, so that shouldn't be a problem. I hope you can still fulfill your chores."

"Yes," John said. "That should be no problem."

"Thank you," Mr. Rovus said to the master. He turned to John. "Let us find the perfect spot for the light then, John."

John only nodded and followed Mr. Rovus as he left the room.

~~

Walking through the Academy with an Atlantean artist who was here to create a portrait of him was surreal to John. Mr. Rovus decided on a spot in the courtyard. He told John to go eat while his servant prepared everything.

John ate quickly, ignoring the curious looks of the other body servants from his cooking class. When he returned to the courtyard, Mr. Rovus stood in front of an easel with a large canvas, making rough sketches of the background and a standing figure.

"Ah, you're back," Mr. Rovus said. "Master Rodney has requested a full body portrait." His eyes ran over John's body quickly and professionally. "If you would stand over there next to the bush..."

John nodded and walked over to the spot, standing like the figure in the sketch.

Mr. Rovus looked at him. "You seem tense," he pointed out. "You will have to stand like this for a while, so it will be helpful to relax a bit." He didn't wait for John to do so before he started sketching again.

John took a deep breath and tried to relax his shoulders. Not too much, though, because he didn't want to look like a complete slouch. John had no idea where Rodney planned to hang the portrait. It would obviously not be hung in the dining room or anywhere else publicly visible in the McKay household. But even if it would hang in Rodney's bedroom or next to his work desk—especially in either of those places, where Rodney spent most of his time—he wanted to look good. He wanted to look like he had the time Rodney had called him pretty.

John could very well imagine that Rodney would use the portrait as a visual reminder of John when he touched himself, just as John did with Rodney's portrait. It would be best not to think about that while he stood here, though. John quickly imagined cleaning the latrines to make sure that his member didn't get any ideas.

As heady as it was to have his portrait drawn at Rodney's request, John quickly got bored with simply standing still. Mr. Rovus didn't talk to him except when John didn't keep his position. There wasn't anything going on in the courtyard that could distract him and without the ability to take notes, thinking about experiments wasn't very fruitful either. John tried to recall the stories in the books that Rodney had sent him to kill some time, which was semi-successful because he couldn't remember all the details and because Mr. Rovus told him not to change his facial expression.

Eventually the afternoon classes were over and someone came into the courtyard to do some gardening. He stared at John and Mr. Rovus and then quickly left again. John wanted to shout after him that he didn't have to leave, but he didn't want to show how bored he was. The body servant in training soon returned anyway, and he had others in tow. John flushed when the group arrayed themselves behind Mr. Rovus, watching him draw.

Some seemed amused, some incredulous. One of the body servants stared open-mouthed at Mr. Rovus, then talked to his neighbors about what sounded like art. They all kept a polite distance, though.

As the courtyard seemed to fill with body servants in training, even Academy officials started to drop by. John assumed they wanted to make sure that everything was in order and the body servants behaved themselves in front of their guest. But after a while John realized that it wasn't just the officials responsible for their education and general development, but also Academy servants. Like the body servants in training, most of them didn't stay for long. Watching someone paint wasn't really all that interesting if you weren't an artist, as that one body servant in training whose eyes were glued to Mr. Rovus seemed to be. But he did see kitchen hands, teachers, and even the servant who took care of their mail drop by to witness the spectacle.

John felt embarrassed and suddenly wished for the empty boredom of the previous hours. Thankfully the light began to dim at that point, and Mr. Rovus told him he could move.

"I will return tomorrow at half past one. Please make sure that you have eaten already," he said.

"Yes, sir," John said, wincing as he took a step after standing still for so long.

Mr. Rovus directed his servant to stow away the canvas and easel. "I will see you tomorrow, John. Thank you for being cooperative."

"You're welcome, sir," John said. Really, it wasn't as if he could not cooperate. Although, he supposed he could have refused Rodney's request.

Mr. Rovus left, and John moved his arms around, stretching stiff muscles. The body servants in training who were still present teased John as soon as Mr. Rovus was out of earshot. But it was a good-natured teasing, which was well deserved considering he would have a portrait drawn by an Atlantean artist. It still hadn't quite sunk in yet.

John decided to do his chores before dinner to get away from the others and to clear his head a bit.

After dinner he returned to his room. Should he write a note to Rodney? He wasn't sure what to write. Should he thank Rodney for wanting a portrait of him? For doing him the honor of hiring an artist? Should he tease him about wanting a full view of John's body any time he wanted?

He decided to work on an experiment that he'd talked to Rodney about and which he'd planned to perform that afternoon. Later that night he was called to the Academy entrance to pick up a letter.

John sprinted back to his room, excited to read what Rodney had to say, because letters sent via messenger always contained some sexual fantasy.

Rodney began by apologizing for not giving him a warning about the portrait.

"Mr. Rovus had time and offered to begin immediately, so I felt it would be best to let him ask you. I was relatively certain you'd agree. Thank you for that. I can't wait to have your portrait in my room. It will be placed across from my bed so that you'll be in full view when I think about you."

John's pants tightened. He knew exactly where this was going. He undid his pants and lay down on the bed, looking at the portrait of Rodney before picking the letter up and reading about today's fantasy.

~~

The next day Mr. Rovus returned as promised and continued working on John's portrait. It wasn't quite as boring as the day before because this time people came out earlier to watch. The Academy master who'd first informed John of Rodney's wish dropped by to see Mr. Rovus' progress and talk to him for a bit.

There was never the same mass of people as the previous day, though. The body servant in training who seemed to be an ardent admirer of Mr. Rovus arrived at some point, presumably as soon as his classes allowed, and stayed all through the afternoon. But mostly John's fellow body servants in training only dropped by to smirk at him or to check on the progress of the portrait.

All in all it was tiring to stand still for so long. John didn't even dare to remind himself that he was doing this for Rodney because then he'd immediately think of Rodney's last letter, and it would be embarrassing to stand in plain sight in the courtyard with a stiff member. John was relieved when the session was over and he was allowed to stretch.

The next day proceeded exactly like the previous one, and only on the fourth afternoon did the crowd in the courtyard begin to grow again. People were watching Mr. Rovus, and since they didn't immediately leave as they had before and others flocked into the courtyard, John got the idea that Mr. Rovus would soon be done.

The courtyard seemed to fill up by the minute. Even people who hadn't bothered before came to take a look at the final result. For the first time in all four days John spotted David in the courtyard. He gave John a cool look but stayed as Mr. Rovus put on the finishing touches.

"I believe I am done," Mr. Rovus finally declared, and his admirer started clapping. Others joined in, and the Academy master who'd welcomed Mr. Rovus now congratulated him on his work. The crowd dispersed again, with only few people lingering, and John walked towards Mr. Rovus to catch a glimpse of the portrait.

It was nice. John wasn't an artist, so the gushing words of Mr. Rovus' admirer about colors and composition didn't really mean anything to him. But he did note the vibrant colors and liked the way he looked even if the likeness wasn't one hundred percent the way Rodney's was in his portrait. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he was happy with the portrait and thanked Mr. Rovus.

"I thank you. You were much better at remaining still than most of my subjects," Mr. Rovus said.

I'm used to obeying a master, John thought but didn't say. Mr. Rovus hadn't treated him badly, so there was no reason to be bitter. His status in life was what it was, and considering that, this portrait was a great honor.

An honor and a gift, John reminded himself. A gift from Rodney to him, and maybe for Rodney himself. John imagined what Rodney would do when he finally had the portrait in hand, so to speak, and flushed.

The Academy master talked to Mr. Rovus as his servant prepared the portrait for transport. John stood next to them, not quite sure what to do.

Eventually, Mr. Rovus was ready to leave. "I will deliver this to Master Rodney at once. He seemed quite impatient." The ghost of a smile appeared on his face, and John flushed again.

"Please send him my regards," John quickly said before Mr. Rovus left.

Mr. Rovus nodded and left together with his servant and the Academy master.

"I still cannot believe that you had a portrait painted by Antonin Rovus," Mr. Rovus' admirer said.

John only shrugged. He couldn't really believe it either.

~~

John was very busy after the portrait was finally done. Not only did he want to catch up with his experiments, studying, and reading, he also had more requests to use his lab than usual since people hadn't had a chance in the days before.

He was still pretty busy when one body servant in training who wanted something fixed told John that another master has sent someone to draw a portrait of his body servant in training. John wasn't especially surprised, since it was one of the body servants with a very rich master. He'd often bragged about his master's wealth and the generous gifts he got, even saying dismissively that he didn't need John to fix anything for him because he could simply ask his master to send a new version of whatever he'd broken.

Apparently his master didn't want to be upstaged by Rodney. John didn't really care about it, but he was curious enough to go into the courtyard with the others to see how the portrait was going.

John couldn't quite suppress a certain amount of pride that the person doing the portrait was not an Atlantean master, but rather a servant. From what John could see he was quite adept at drawing, but still, if the purpose of this portrait was to upstage Mr. Rovus' work, it would fail, and the slightly sour look of the posing body servant when he spotted John showed that he knew it.

John only chuckled to himself and went back to his room to keep catching up on the things he'd missed doing while he'd posed for his portrait.

Two others were drawn over the course of the next week, both by servants as well. David was not among them, John noted, even though he knew the Berensons were rich enough to afford it. Drake was among the more generous masters, and David certainly didn't skip any opportunity to brag about it. Of course, in this case David might not have wanted to bring Rodney's gift to John to his master's attention. Thinking back to Confirmation Day and the humiliation of Drake waiting until Rodney had confirmed John before he confirmed David, John could understand if David's desire to prove his master's generosity was outweighed by his desire to ignore John's existence.

Which was just as well with John, who was quite happy to have nothing to do with David.

Life at the Academy went on. John studied with Dr. Frederickson, used the ingredients Rodney sent to prepare meals, and sometimes baked for him. He also frequently masturbated, re-reading Rodney's letters and working larger insertables into himself.

He still wasn't managing anything like the size of a stiff member when he was called to fetch his mail one morning. Instead of the book or edible ingredients that usually accompanied Rodney's letter, there was a package.

Well, it wasn't so much a package as something wrapped in cloth so tightly that it didn't leave anything to the imagination. John flushed fiercely when he took the dildo from the hands of the servant. He knew that he was being ridiculous. He knew for a fact that other, larger dildos had been sent, so this was hardly worth blushing over.

However, when he looked at the servant, the awkward smile that John had planned to give him froze on his face. John had never seen the servant responsible for their mail have any expression other than boredom or impatience. But this time he watched John with a clenched jaw and cold look. He almost looked at John like David did sometimes, which was unsettling because David, at least, had a reason. Not that it was John's fault that Drake was obsessed with John, but John could still understand David's reaction to him.

But he'd never done anything to the mail servant, so getting such a look from him was irritating. "Thank you," John quickly said, shrugging off the weird incident and rushing to his room.

By the time he arrived he'd forgotten all about the servant and only thought about Rodney's gift. He unwrapped it, finding a polished steel dildo. A huge polished steel dildo. Well, it wasn't actually that big. It was smaller than John's member when it was hard, but still a lot bigger than anything John had pushed inside his ass and everything he'd inserted into himself had taken quite a bit of patience.

John gulped thinking about taking the dildo in the form of Rodney's stiff member inside him. He closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the feel of Rodney's hard cock in his mouth and on his tongue. He thought about the wonderful noises Rodney had made.

Oh, yes, he definitely looked forward to relaxing his body enough to be able to take Rodney inside him whenever they wanted. However, he also knew that it would take time. Specifically, it would take longer than the half hour that he had before his cooking class, so John had no choice but to postpone his training for Rodney's cock until later that night.

Looking down at himself, though, where his pants were tented in an unmistakable way, he realized that he was in no shape to leave his room. He could try to talk his hard member down, or he could get rid of his erection in more pleasurable ways.

John quickly shed his pants and lay down on the bed, taking his own cock in one hand and Rodney's replica in the other. While he quickly stroked himself with one hand, he used the other to push the tip of Rodney's cock on the pleasurable spot under his balls. It was a bit colder than his skin, but that wasn't entirely a bad feeling. He kept stroking his erect member and rubbing his perineum with Rodney's cock. Imagining Rodney here with him, John was quickly overwhelmed and came, panting loud as he came down.

He could only hope that had been enough to keep him under control until that evening, when he had time to really play with Rodney's gift.

~~

All throughout the day, John found himself randomly flushing whenever he thought about the dildo. He was glad when he was done with his chores after dinner and could disappear into his room. He placed a bowl of grease on his nightstand and then settled down on the bed with Rodney's gift.

He felt his face heating up as he contemplated how to go about this the best way. Ignoring the mechanics for a moment, John decided to read one of Rodney's more detailed fantasies where he fucked John.

He put the dildo aside for the time being and started by stroking his nipples, imagining Rodney was touching him. Looking at the portrait of Rodney, John imagined his master leaning down to kiss and lick his nipple, then down his body to his stiffening member.

He took it in his hand, lightly stroking up and down. He read Rodney's words, detailing how he would let his tongue play with the crown of John's cock. John licked his fingers and started running the tips over his member as a pointed tongue would. Groaning in impatience, he took his cock in a hard grip, giving himself a few jerks.

Precome started to accumulate at the tip and he spread it around with his thumb, gasping as he imagined Rodney's tongue licking it off.

He let go of his erection and took a few calming breaths. He didn't want to come without Rodney's cock inside of him. Turning around, he dipped his fingers in the bowl of grease. He lay back down, bent his knees, and spread his legs, then started to finger himself.

He closed his eyes and imagined Rodney between his knees, eagerly playing with John's asshole to prepare him for Rodney's cock. John bit his lip and pushed one finger inside himself. He'd practiced enough that it wasn't a problem with lubrication. He pulled the finger back out and tried with two, which was more of a challenge. John tried to relax his muscles to allow his fingers to push in. He managed to insert them to the second knuckle.

He let the two fingers stretch him for a while, lightly stroking his dick, which was flagging slightly. After a while he pulled out his fingers and flipped onto his stomach. He put more grease on his fingers and lifted up his ass, half-kneeling on the bed, his head resting on a pillow as he reached back between his legs to insert three fingers.

He kept pushing and stroking his cock with his other hand, his whole body tense except the muscles in his ass which he tried to relax. He groaned when he managed to force the fingers inside, panting at the feeling of fullness. He stayed like that for a moment, simply breathing as his muscles got used to the intrusion.

He hadn't yet touched his prostate, but he knew that Rodney's cock would go deep enough if he managed to fit it in. It was definitely larger than three fingers, though, so it would be a tight fit. A really tight fit. John's cock twitched at the thought of how completely he'd be filled.

After another deep breath, John pulled out his fingers. He took the dildo in his hand and started covering it in grease. He recalled the feeling of having Rodney's cock in his mouth, his taste as he shot his come down John's throat.

John couldn't wait to do this with Rodney. To be able to suck him before being fucked. To be able to kiss him and touch him and feel his weight on top of him. It would be glorious. And the preparation he was doing now would make it even better because he wouldn't have to worry about not being able to take Rodney's cock inside him.

After thoroughly covering the dildo in grease, John placed it on the bed between his legs and squatted down on it, letting the tip push against his entrance. God, it was huge. John took several breaths and tried to force himself to relax. He wanted to be able to take Rodney. He wanted to be ready for Rodney whenever he decided he wanted to bend John over a desk and fuck him.

John put his full weight on the dildo and let it sink into his body. "God," he groaned out loud. Rodney's steel cock was stretching him like he'd never been stretched before. Millimeter by millimeter it went deeper and deeper. John closed his eyes, imagining that he was straddling Rodney, taking his master's cock inside for both of their pleasures. Rodney would look strained or blissed out or maybe impatient as John took more and more of him inside.

When the dildo was deep enough to push against his prostate, John groaned and started quickly jacking off his cock. He started moving his hips up and down so that the bulbous head of Rodney's cock would stroke his prostrate again and again. Oh god, this was amazing. He was so full. So full and hard, and it was Rodney's cock inside of him and it felt so good, so incredible.

John moaned Rodney's name, stripping his cock until he couldn't hold back any longer and came, shooting jets of come onto his chest and hand and the bed and oh, god, so, so good.

John collapsed and let the dildo slip from ass, only able to push it aside a bit before he closed his eyes and exhaustion claimed him.

~~

John felt extremely content the next morning, even if his ass felt a bit uncomfortable when he sat up. He'd definitely work on getting used to being fucked.

That morning he couldn't help flushing whenever someone looked at him, as if they could see on his face or the way he moved what he'd done the night before. John knew that he was being paranoid and tried to shake the thought off, instead composing a letter to Rodney in his head.

Once again he wished he were as eloquent as Rodney. Rodney would describe in great detail what he'd done and how it had made him feel. John on the other hand only managed to thank Rodney for his wonderful gift. He forced himself to write down what he'd done, even if only briefly, because he knew it would delight Rodney to read it.

"And I'm looking forward to the day when it will be your cock that fills me," John finished the letter, his face heating up even though he was alone in his room.

When Rodney answered, he was pleased that John had liked the gift so much. Then he went on to describe his own fantasy of what he imagined John did with the dildo. As always, Rodney's words ignited John's body, and that night he lived out scenes from Rodney's imagination.

From then on Rodney mixed up his previous fantasies of having sex with John with fantasies about John fucking himself with the dildo and in some cases Rodney fucking John with the dildo. It made John's training on the dildo as pleasurable and personal as it could be without Rodney actually being there in person, something that John longed to finally experience.

Fortunately, time flew by. John was busy with his classes, his cooking, creating several iterations of documentation for the portable lab, doing some experiments, fixing or crafting things for himself or his fellow body servants in training, and keeping up with the books and correspondence that Rodney still sent as frequently as ever.

The documentation for the lab was a challenge. It sometimes took several letters back and forth until John had described something in exactly the way Rodney wanted. John struggled with the drawings that accompanied the text as well. He wasn't a natural artist, and he hadn't taken any classes in drawing or art. Thankfully the body servant in training who'd been such an ardent admirer of Mr. Rovus offered to give John some tips when he saw John's sketches, after asking to use the lab to make a water holder for his easel. His name was Graham, and John soon found himself doing many studies of his lab in addition to everything else he was doing.

Graham gave him some tips on how to work with pencil and quill and how to choose the best perspective, and told him that it would be helpful if he broke up more complex elements into different illustrations. John didn't think he was ever going to be an artist, but eventually he got to the point where he felt the illustrations really complemented the text and documented what the portable lab was and how it worked.

When Rodney declared that he was satisfied with the documentation and planned to submit it to the patent office along with his technical notes, John felt a sense of accomplishment that was entirely unfamiliar to him.

While he'd been kept busy every day he'd lived at the Academy, he'd never really done anything of value. True, the chores that he and the others did were necessary, and he felt responsible for doing an adequate job on them, but if he'd been kicked out of the Academy on any given day, the chores would have been done by someone else and nobody would have noticed a difference. Even the experiments in the lab felt like he was just following Rodney's or Dr. Frederickson's suggestions or doing something obvious. It was more like playing with a toy than actually creating something.

This was different. Completing the documentation had taken not just skill in understanding the components of the lab, but also the ability to put it into concise words and illustrate it. It took talent in several areas and the patience and tenacity to see it through to the end. This wasn't something that any of the other body servants in training could have managed. He wasn't even sure if Rodney could—or would—have done it in so much detail.

John had felt pride before when he'd solved a particularly difficult equation or cooked something especially delicious, but this made him feel like...an individual. It wasn't that he was not unique. Everyone was. But his status as a servant determined his position in life, and that included limitations on what he was allowed to achieve no matter what he was capable of. Being part of Rodney's patent submission made him feel like a normal member of their society, not just a glorified slave.

And that was something that he would forever be grateful for and cherish.

~~

After the documentation was done, John found himself with a bit of free time. He used it to re-read Rodney's correspondence, especially his sex fantasies. He also daydreamed about their life together.

The McKays hadn't yet decided on a house for Rodney and him. Rodney wanted something that was close to the lab, his father and sister wanted something that was close to them. Apparently they hadn't been able to compromise so far, and John certainly wasn't going to get into that fight.

He was going to spent most of his time with Rodney, obviously, but he expected the McKays to visit every now and then, and he didn't want to get on their bad side. It was probably Dr. McKay's reputation that had saved him from becoming Drake's body servant.

Besides, he could understand the McKays' wish to be close to Rodney. John felt that only Rodney's privileged ability to see them whenever he wanted made him so indifferent. John hadn't seen or heard of his mother and his little half-brother since he'd been picked for the Academy. He didn't even know if they were alive or dead.

But pointing that out to Rodney would only make him feel bad, so John didn't. Rodney was very brusque and at times self-centered, but when he became aware of something that John didn't have and he took for granted, he tried to solve the issue. It had been like that with food and the resources Rodney sent for the lab. John being able to see his family, however, wasn't something that Rodney could solve for him.

And truthfully, John tried not to think about it too much either. It was simply one of the realities of his life.

Instead, he tried to focus on his future. Even if he didn't know what their house would look like, John still tried to imagine his life with Rodney—working together, eating together, and having sex. Mostly the latter.

~~

About three months before the end of his time at the Academy, John was called into the mail room one afternoon. It was unusual because they normally got their mail in the mornings.

The mail servant gave him a sour look and only pointed at the messenger.

"Are you John Sheppard?" the messenger asked. "I'm only allowed to deliver this in person."

"Yes, I am. What is it?" John asked.

"I don't know. You'll have to sign here."

"Uhm, okay." John signed the paper that the messenger handed him. He couldn't remember ever signing anything in his life, and this thing looked official. He saw the seal of Atlantia at the top, and below that the words Atlantia Patent Office.

John was stunned. The messenger gave him the flat package and John opened it, hardly able to believe his eyes. It was a framed document, an official notice of a granted patent. It included the title, number, and description of Rodney's portable lab and then the name of the inventors: Rodney McKay, John Sheppard (documentation).

John nearly dropped the frame, then held on to it for dear life. Rodney had actually put his name on the patent submission.

"Good news, sir?" the messenger asked.

"Fantastic," John said after a moment, still stunned. Then a wide grin started to spread on his face. The messenger grinned back.

"Have a good day, sir," he said, then nodded and left.

John felt like running around and showing everyone his—his—patent notice. He turned to the mail servant who looked at him with a clenched jaw. John had no idea what his problem was, but he didn't care. Instead he left the room and went to find Graham to thank him for his help.

The other body servants in training were duly impressed and genuinely happy for him. It helped that they were friendly with John. He didn't actually run around and tell everyone, but he needed to share the news with someone. After coming down from the immediate high, he went to his room to compose a thank you letter to Rodney, though no words seemed adequate. In the end John settled on telling Rodney exactly that.

Rodney's reply was dismissive. "The documentation was primarily your work. It was only fair and correct to note it as such on the application. Though if you feel the need to thank me, you have three months to think of something."

John smiled. Everything he did in terms of training was to better serve Rodney when the time came. And John didn't mind it one bit.

~~

Shortly after getting the patent notice, John received word from Rodney that the McKays had finally settled on a home for them. He listed the address and the basic information about the house. For some reason, it wasn't until he actually learned the location of his new home that the full impact of this change began to sink in for John.

His daydreams before had been vaguer about their surroundings and involved mostly Rodney and himself. Now he became aware that he didn't even know the street where his new home was, let alone the most basic things like where he would find the shops to buy food and other necessities.

Panic set in when he tried to think through a week of his new life and to list all the tasks he'd have to perform. He realized that he didn't know how similar domestic ovens were to the ones he had here in his cooking class or how to clean them. He didn't know how and when the ice for the icebox was delivered. Would it have to be ordered or did they drop by every house? He didn't know how to work a washing machine or how to get rid of various kinds of stains on clothes and furniture. While he knew about different ingredients for meals, he didn't know about the current prices for them or their availability in Atlantean shops. He knew nothing about obtaining soap or other cleaning materials. And it occurred to him that he would have to make sure that anything he used for cleaning didn't contain citrus extracts.

Thankfully, there were other body servants in training who had taken the classes that specialized in running a household. His generosity in sharing his lab with others paid off in spades now, and John had a whole circle of body servants in training who gave him condensed versions of what they'd learned and answered his questions.

John learned about the latest washing machines where you only had to turn a crank to move the clothes around. He made a mental note about combining one with a motor like the one in his lab—surely there had to be a way to make this fully automatic. Though if he was unlucky and the house wasn't equipped with the latest conveniences, he'd have to fill a tub with heated water by hand and stir the clothes directly with a paddle.

As he'd feared, citrus was a common ingredient in washing powder and soap. So one of his fellow body servants in training asked their teacher for advice on how to avoid it.

John was grateful for any help he could get. He filled a notebook with lists of which substances worked best to remove which stains, average prices for ingredients and other household items, and maps of the city with some general information about the areas and shops in particular.

He also tried to learn some history, and the names of the most influential families, companies, and institutions. It wasn't something that would be important for him directly, but he wanted to be able to put a name into context if Rodney mentioned it.

The nice side-effect of his efforts was that time flew by, and before John knew it, the time until he'd leave the Academy and move in with Rodney could be measured in days rather than months.

John was glad that his preparations were able to distract him from the anticipation of living with Rodney. They still wrote each other every day. Rodney began to start his sexual fantasies with, "Once we're living together..." When John had enough time to really think about what was awaiting him in a few weeks, his heart raced in anticipation.

The memory of the one and only time he'd gotten to taste Rodney had faded, though he still clearly remembered the feeling. Soon enough he'd be able to have that as often as they wanted—that and so much more. Everything Rodney had described in his letters, and all the little things that he hadn't. Even the thought of preparing food in the kitchen while Rodney worked on a new theory in his study brought a smile to John's face.

He still couldn't quite grasp how lucky he'd been. A few of his fellow body servants in training were terrified of the day they'd be at their master's mercy for the foreseeable future. John felt bad for them, but he didn't dwell on the feeling because he couldn't help them. And thankfully most of the body servants in training didn't fear their future.

They would all leave the confines of the Academy, with its strict rules but also its comfortable safety. Their lives would be different. Some for the better, some for worse, in different proportions for each body servant.

John was very lucky, and he knew it.

~~

It was a week before the great day when the mail servant asked John to come into the little room where he stored the bigger packages. John didn't think anything of it, since Rodney sometimes sent large packages for the lab or for John's cooking. However, when he entered the room, it was empty.

John looked up, but the mail servant closed the door and blocked it with his body.

John swallowed down the fear rising in him. The mail servant was a bit larger than he was, but John was still working out regularly and could probably take him. He would be fine. Hopefully.

The mail servant just looked at John in that strange calculating way that he'd had since Rodney sent the dildo. John had never understood why the change had happened. He could think of absolutely nothing that he'd done to the mail servant to deserve the cold looks. And he had no idea what the guy wanted from him now.

"You're happy that you'll finally move in with your master, aren't you?" the mail servant asked.

John hesitated. He didn't know which direction this conversation was going, but it seemed like an innocent enough question. "Yes," he answered.

"I bet your master is looking forward to it too," the mail servant said.

John still didn't know what he was getting at. "You'd have to ask him," he said.

The mail servant smiled. "I think the gifts and the letters show very clearly how much he cares. Did you know that you receive more letters in a week from your master than some have gotten in the entire two years?"

John did know that. There were masters who only took a body servant because they had to. To them their body servants were just like any other servant, with whom they'd never correspond. And the body servants in question didn't necessarily mind that their masters didn't care about them. There were worse things.

"Do you love him?" the mail servant asked.

John's eyes widened. That had come completely out of left field. His mouth opened, but nothing came out. What the hell?

"Does he love you?" the mail servant continued softly. He didn't wait for John's answer—not that he would have. "Even if he does, it won't matter," he said, getting a far away look.

John had no idea at all what was happening here. Though for the moment it didn't look as if the mail servant was going to harm him.

The mail servant focused back on John. "My master loved me, and it didn't matter one bit. He still had to get married. And then everything changed."

John felt uncomfortable. He didn't think he wanted to hear this.

"We tried to steal a moment together whenever we could, but when they had their first child... When a master gets married, the wife is in charge of the servants. She wasn't unkind. She didn't know. But I couldn't bear to watch him every day but never be allowed to be alone with him, to touch him."

John squirmed. He really didn't want to hear this. The longing in the mail servant's voice was heart-breaking.

"So I left. It was all he could do for me. Whatever happens next week, never forget that it won't last," the mail servant finished. "It doesn't matter how you feel or how he feels. It won't matter that you love each other. So be prepared."

John hoped that this was all.

After a moment, the mail servant stepped aside and opened the door. John only gave him a look and quickly got out of there. He supposed he should have thanked him for the well-meant advice, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

The episode had been bizarre and didn't have anything to do with John's situation. Or so he tried to tell himself.

~~

The preparations in the last week left John little time to think, but he was still unable to put the mail servant's words out of his mind. He acted friendly toward John now, but John only took his mail and left.

He didn't want to think about the mail servant's advice. But at night when he masturbated, thinking about Rodney, the question, "Do you love him?" came unbidden to John's mind.

Well, he didn't.

John appreciated the mail servant's concern but it was completely unnecessary. John wasn't a dreamer. He knew that being in love was a privilege for free people. He might have been daydreaming about life with Rodney, looking forward to it even, but he never ever forgot that he was a servant.

He couldn't.

There were too many restrictions in his life now and in the future for him to ever forget that. There were things that he couldn't wear, places where he couldn't go. He would never be able to earn his own money. He would never be allowed to travel alone. There were theaters that were off limits to him, and even certain streets he wasn't allowed to walk down.

He was and would always be a slave—with a more pleasant designation.

John didn't know if the mail servant had believed that he and his master could be happily alone together forever. If he had, it had been because of his own denial, because the rules of their society were well-known. John wasn't going to forget them. He had a maximum of three years with Rodney, at which point his master would be expected to get married.

It was a fact of Atlantean life.

The mail servant might have meant well, but it had been entirely unnecessary for him to remind John of the truth of their lives.

~~

The problem with John's thinking was that it wasn't entirely the truth. Late at night when he'd stopped packing and lay in bed, he had to admit that even if he'd never dreamed about spending his life with Rodney and even if he would never forget his status as a servant, he hadn't exactly thought beyond living with Rodney either.

He'd fantasized about their life together: cooking for him, helping him with his work, having sex—but he hadn't wondered about what would happen if Rodney got married. When Rodney got married.

Even worse, John realized that Rodney might not even want to wait the full three years until he was twenty-one to get married. He'd lamented more than once that his father wouldn't allow him to work in his lab until he married. Given Rodney's priorities it wasn't unthinkable that he would wish to marry as soon as possible, maybe as soon as he'd found a fiancée on his first Courting Day, a year from now.

John tried to tell himself that he would be okay with that, but the thought of Rodney fawning over a woman made him uncomfortable. He shook his head and reached over to his nightstand to retrieve his favorite letters from Rodney.

Thinking about his future was useless since he had no power over it either way. Rodney could decide to get married a week after moving into his new home, or he could wait until the full three years passed and he had no other choice. John would have to live with it.

He started reading the first letter, slipping his hand under his clothes. Soon he was able to forget everything but the images that Rodney's words evoked in his mind.

~~

As his time at the Academy drew to a close, John thought not only about his future but also his past. He'd spent half his life within these walls. He'd prepared for an uncertain future, always willing to risk his life and run away should that become the best option out of the few that he had. Truthfully, it had always only been a last option. The world outside of Atlantia and the other city-states offered freedom, but it came at the price of complete lack of law and order, and it meant that only the strongest or most cunning survived. He would have to fight hunger and bandits if he ran away, but he'd be free.

Since being Selected and then Confirmed by Rodney, John hadn't thought a lot about that option. It didn't seem necessary, but it was still there. And what it meant for him, had always meant for him, was that even if he wasn't allowed to be a free man, he would take that little bit of freedom if he saw no other choice. As long as he had better options, though, he would make the best of them.

He would do his best with the limited choices he was given. And he could only do the same with Rodney.

It wouldn't be forever. Maybe he would leave the household when Rodney got married, maybe he wouldn't. John might not even have a say in the matter. But the fact of the matter was that this wasn't new to him. He'd been taken away from his mother as a boy and had learned his lesson then: he was little more than property when it came to his fate.

When it came to his actions, though, he might not always have a choice about what he did, but he had choices about how he did it. His life at the Academy had been a mixture of opportunities to learn and chores to perform, and sometimes the education had been a chore and a chore had taught him something useful.

Living with Rodney would come with its own set of challenges and opportunities. Just like he'd always done, he would manage them with his best judgment. He would run Rodney's household as well as he was able, and he would enjoy all the pleasures that Rodney would offer, as much as he could. That was the extent of his freedom.

If the mail servant's words had changed anything for him, it was to remind John to make the most of every day.

He would be a good servant to Rodney with his service and his body. He would cherish what his master had to offer. And he wouldn't fall in love. Not because Rodney wasn't a man who could inspire such affection and devotion.

It was simply that love was not for John. Not now and not ever.