Smutty SGA ficlet (Parrish/Lorne, slavery, NC-17)
Yesterday, mklutz made this cover graphic (click on the link in the post to see the image) for harlequin_sga. The cover (featuring Major Lorne and accidental slavery) is insanely hot, and left me thinking smutty thoughts.
I wrote comment fic. Because hot, hot, graphics deserve comment fic. This is that comment fic, slightly cleaned up. It won't make sense without checking out the graphic first, which is hot and awesome and totally worth your time.
...also, I'm just hoping this image leads to many, many people writing comment fics. Because. Hot.
Untitled Accidental Slavery Comment ficlet
Lorne/Parrish
NC-17
Parrish is careful, at first. Painfully careful. He brings Evan's favourite foods at mealtimes, and keeps his distance; he brings paperwork, books, and extra clothes, and tells all the latest news and gossip. He never touches Evan, barely looks him in the eye.
At first, Evan appreciates it. Parrish doesn't want this situation any more than Evan wants to deal with the - urges. To do things for Parrish. Small things, like untie his boots, because they clearly don't fit well, and Parrish is limping a little. Or pour him some water, because he keeps licking his lips.
"Thanks," he wants to say, because Parrish doesn't push it. He doesn't complain about having to relocate to the east tower, or the way that Evan looks at him. He just does what he has to do, while the scientists try and figure out how to break Evan out of the tower.
It makes Evan laugh a little, and he wonders if Sheppard will call him 'princess' when he finally gets out.
It's the only amusing thought in all of this.
"Hi," Parrish says, walking through the door. They've set up a pretty decent set of quarters, two bedrooms and a great view, even if they are isolated from the hub of the city. "Any progress?" He looks tired. Tired and dirty. He's holding a tray with Evan's dinner.
Evan wants to take the tray, set it down, and pull Parrish to the bathroom to wash him clean. He pushes the feeling away, and sticks his hands in his pockets. "Nothing new. Still stuck up here."
Parrish's shoulders droop slightly. "Sorry."
"Yeah, me too." Except he's not quite sure he is sorry. Not really. Sure, he misses going off-world, and he hates being stuck in the tower. He misses being at the centre of activity, even though people come and visit him. He's bored, and he's annoyed. But as each hour, each day passes, he feels a little more settled in his role, a little more centred. He knows what he's supposed to do - he's supposed to do things for Parrish, look after his needs without being asked.
He knows that he should be kneeling at Parrish's bedside in the mornings, one hand holding a warm drink, the other sliding inside Parrish's boxers.
When Parrish comes back, at night, Evan's should be waiting with food, ready to feed it to him. It's stupid, but he chafes at the lack of a working kitchen up here.
Parrish puts the tray down on the table. "Here. It's meatloaf. I got you extra."
Evan smiles. It feels brittle. "What about you?"
"Oh, I already ate."
It's obviously a lie. "Look, Parrish -"
"You don't have to make sure I eat every meal."
Evan sighs, stepping in close, running one hand up Parrish's arm. "Yeah. I think I do."
Parrish just looks at him and moves away. "I'm trying to be -"
"Careful. I know. But it's driving me crazy." And it is. It's itching at the back of his skull, and under his skin, this want, this need to be doing something for Parrish. Anything Parrish wants. And he's sure that Parrish has the same itching, the same need to tell Evan what to do, often, repeatedly.
But he doesn't. Instead, he backs away, gesturing at the food. "Let me know if you want more." He disappears into his bedroom, and Evan sighs.
A couple of days later, Parrish stops being careful. He walks into the room, angry and ranting about some problem in one of the hydroponics labs. Evan doesn't bother listening to the specifics - he just watches the flush of Parrish's cheeks, the way his mouth tenses as he speaks. He doesn't move much - his hands are still - but there's a tension in him, and when Evan steps closer, slides one hand along his waist, Parrish doesn't immediately move away. He goes rigid, stops talking mid-sentence, but he stays where he is. "Don't push me right now -" he starts, and Evan pushes. The way he's wanted to push for days, the way he knows he should.
"Fuck," Parrish says. He looks absurdly innocent. "It's the device."
"So?" Evan asks.
"It's not right -" But he's guiding Evan back towards the wall, pushing him against it.
Evan stops thinking. He just grins, sliding down, knees hitting the floor, a jolt that should jar him but instead leaves him hard, a little breathless. "Finally," he mutters, as he flicks open Parrish's pants, yanks them down, and yeah, this is what he should have been doing all along. Maybe Parrish protested, but he wants it, he's hard now, and his hand is already clenching in Evan's hair.
"Christ, you're really -"
Yeah, he really is. He leans closer, nuzzling at Parrish's leg, turning his face inwards, nose pressed against hairs. Parrish twitches, and Evan grins again, slides his hand up Parrish's leg, and circles his cock.
"Just do it -" Parrish breathes, hand clenching again, and Evan does what he's told, licking out, and sucking the head of Parrish's cock into his mouth. It's easy, familiar, like he's done this a hundred times. The weight of Parrish in his mouth, the taste, warmth and salt, and god he's glad Parrish didn't shower. He wants to draw this out, make it last, but Parrish is already close, and this isn't about what Evan wants. So he hums, sliding down, letting Parrish hold him there for a few brief seconds before he pulls back, hums again, and goes back down.
It doesn't last - Evan wants more than a few strokes into his mouth, more than the tease of obedience. But he doesn't complain, doesn't try to hold back, and as Parrish comes, Evan swallows, pulling away slowly, trying to draw out the pleasure.
When he looks up, Parrish's face is flushed again, his eyes lidded. Evan's hand slides down to his own cock, rubbing through the fabric of his pants, hips jerking reflexively. He wants to ask if it was good, if Parrish liked it, and when can they do it again, but he can't quite say the words.
"I can't believe -" Parrish starts.
Evan leans forward, pressing his face against Parrish's hip, breathing in the scent of him. "Can I?" he asks, desperate to undo his pants.
"Can you what?"
Evan squirms, licking Parrish's hip, focusing on the brush of fine hairs across his lips.
"Oh. Right." Parrish sounds bewildered, slightly shocky. "Yes. You can. You don't have to ask -" his hand ghosts across the top of Evan's head, once, and then abruptly, he steps away.
Evan barely manages to keep himself from falling flat on his face.
By the time he gets his balance, Parrish is already pulling up his pants, his expression horrified. "I can't believe I just -" and then he's turning, leaving the room, and all Evan can think about his the rigid line of his back, the way it's going to lead to a tension headache, and oh god, he's so fucking hard.
"Damn it," he mutters, slumping down to the floor, already thumbing open his pants. Guess they won't be doing that again any time soon.
I wrote comment fic. Because hot, hot, graphics deserve comment fic. This is that comment fic, slightly cleaned up. It won't make sense without checking out the graphic first, which is hot and awesome and totally worth your time.
...also, I'm just hoping this image leads to many, many people writing comment fics. Because. Hot.
Untitled Accidental Slavery Comment ficlet
Lorne/Parrish
NC-17
Parrish is careful, at first. Painfully careful. He brings Evan's favourite foods at mealtimes, and keeps his distance; he brings paperwork, books, and extra clothes, and tells all the latest news and gossip. He never touches Evan, barely looks him in the eye.
At first, Evan appreciates it. Parrish doesn't want this situation any more than Evan wants to deal with the - urges. To do things for Parrish. Small things, like untie his boots, because they clearly don't fit well, and Parrish is limping a little. Or pour him some water, because he keeps licking his lips.
"Thanks," he wants to say, because Parrish doesn't push it. He doesn't complain about having to relocate to the east tower, or the way that Evan looks at him. He just does what he has to do, while the scientists try and figure out how to break Evan out of the tower.
It makes Evan laugh a little, and he wonders if Sheppard will call him 'princess' when he finally gets out.
It's the only amusing thought in all of this.
"Hi," Parrish says, walking through the door. They've set up a pretty decent set of quarters, two bedrooms and a great view, even if they are isolated from the hub of the city. "Any progress?" He looks tired. Tired and dirty. He's holding a tray with Evan's dinner.
Evan wants to take the tray, set it down, and pull Parrish to the bathroom to wash him clean. He pushes the feeling away, and sticks his hands in his pockets. "Nothing new. Still stuck up here."
Parrish's shoulders droop slightly. "Sorry."
"Yeah, me too." Except he's not quite sure he is sorry. Not really. Sure, he misses going off-world, and he hates being stuck in the tower. He misses being at the centre of activity, even though people come and visit him. He's bored, and he's annoyed. But as each hour, each day passes, he feels a little more settled in his role, a little more centred. He knows what he's supposed to do - he's supposed to do things for Parrish, look after his needs without being asked.
He knows that he should be kneeling at Parrish's bedside in the mornings, one hand holding a warm drink, the other sliding inside Parrish's boxers.
When Parrish comes back, at night, Evan's should be waiting with food, ready to feed it to him. It's stupid, but he chafes at the lack of a working kitchen up here.
Parrish puts the tray down on the table. "Here. It's meatloaf. I got you extra."
Evan smiles. It feels brittle. "What about you?"
"Oh, I already ate."
It's obviously a lie. "Look, Parrish -"
"You don't have to make sure I eat every meal."
Evan sighs, stepping in close, running one hand up Parrish's arm. "Yeah. I think I do."
Parrish just looks at him and moves away. "I'm trying to be -"
"Careful. I know. But it's driving me crazy." And it is. It's itching at the back of his skull, and under his skin, this want, this need to be doing something for Parrish. Anything Parrish wants. And he's sure that Parrish has the same itching, the same need to tell Evan what to do, often, repeatedly.
But he doesn't. Instead, he backs away, gesturing at the food. "Let me know if you want more." He disappears into his bedroom, and Evan sighs.
A couple of days later, Parrish stops being careful. He walks into the room, angry and ranting about some problem in one of the hydroponics labs. Evan doesn't bother listening to the specifics - he just watches the flush of Parrish's cheeks, the way his mouth tenses as he speaks. He doesn't move much - his hands are still - but there's a tension in him, and when Evan steps closer, slides one hand along his waist, Parrish doesn't immediately move away. He goes rigid, stops talking mid-sentence, but he stays where he is. "Don't push me right now -" he starts, and Evan pushes. The way he's wanted to push for days, the way he knows he should.
"Fuck," Parrish says. He looks absurdly innocent. "It's the device."
"So?" Evan asks.
"It's not right -" But he's guiding Evan back towards the wall, pushing him against it.
Evan stops thinking. He just grins, sliding down, knees hitting the floor, a jolt that should jar him but instead leaves him hard, a little breathless. "Finally," he mutters, as he flicks open Parrish's pants, yanks them down, and yeah, this is what he should have been doing all along. Maybe Parrish protested, but he wants it, he's hard now, and his hand is already clenching in Evan's hair.
"Christ, you're really -"
Yeah, he really is. He leans closer, nuzzling at Parrish's leg, turning his face inwards, nose pressed against hairs. Parrish twitches, and Evan grins again, slides his hand up Parrish's leg, and circles his cock.
"Just do it -" Parrish breathes, hand clenching again, and Evan does what he's told, licking out, and sucking the head of Parrish's cock into his mouth. It's easy, familiar, like he's done this a hundred times. The weight of Parrish in his mouth, the taste, warmth and salt, and god he's glad Parrish didn't shower. He wants to draw this out, make it last, but Parrish is already close, and this isn't about what Evan wants. So he hums, sliding down, letting Parrish hold him there for a few brief seconds before he pulls back, hums again, and goes back down.
It doesn't last - Evan wants more than a few strokes into his mouth, more than the tease of obedience. But he doesn't complain, doesn't try to hold back, and as Parrish comes, Evan swallows, pulling away slowly, trying to draw out the pleasure.
When he looks up, Parrish's face is flushed again, his eyes lidded. Evan's hand slides down to his own cock, rubbing through the fabric of his pants, hips jerking reflexively. He wants to ask if it was good, if Parrish liked it, and when can they do it again, but he can't quite say the words.
"I can't believe -" Parrish starts.
Evan leans forward, pressing his face against Parrish's hip, breathing in the scent of him. "Can I?" he asks, desperate to undo his pants.
"Can you what?"
Evan squirms, licking Parrish's hip, focusing on the brush of fine hairs across his lips.
"Oh. Right." Parrish sounds bewildered, slightly shocky. "Yes. You can. You don't have to ask -" his hand ghosts across the top of Evan's head, once, and then abruptly, he steps away.
Evan barely manages to keep himself from falling flat on his face.
By the time he gets his balance, Parrish is already pulling up his pants, his expression horrified. "I can't believe I just -" and then he's turning, leaving the room, and all Evan can think about his the rigid line of his back, the way it's going to lead to a tension headache, and oh god, he's so fucking hard.
"Damn it," he mutters, slumping down to the floor, already thumbing open his pants. Guess they won't be doing that again any time soon.