SGA Fic: Spill (McKay/Sheppard, NC-17)
Whee! New porn! New *dirty* porn!
Title: Spill
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: NC-17
Length: ~1,300 words
Summary: Rodney sucks in his breath and makes an eeping noise. “But, that’s dirty!” he says, like it’s reason enough.
Notes: Almost everybody in my porn poll voted for spanking, so I got right on that and wrote...watersports. No worries though! I'm planning on posting every day, until the porn muse deserts me. Spanking and gag fic are both on the horizon! For now though, I hope you all enjoy this. It's something I've never written before, and not something I see a lot of in the fandom.
Huge thanks go to cupidsbow and shetiger for audiencing while I wrote.
Rodney’s been drinking all day. First coffee - lots and lots and lots of coffee - and then, once they started on the mission, he’s been swigging from his canteen nonstop. John notices absently, but doesn’t pay it much mind - until Rodney makes a snippy remark about how if they don’t hurry up and take a break, he’s going to wet his pants. After that, John sits up and pays attention.
It’s not a real mission, just an abandoned outpost on the mainland that needs occasional maintenance. He figured it’d be nice to spend some time with Rodney (and the ‘jumper, of course), and nudged until Rodney’d given in and agreed to go.
“We’ll stop in a bit, buddy,” he says when Rodney starts bitching again, then solicitously offers his own canteen. “Want any more? It’s pretty sunny today and you can’t be too careful.”
Rodney complains the whole way to the outpost, but John barely notices. He’s busy planning.
As soon as they get there, Rodney jerks a hand towards the woods, and heads off at a fast clip. John’s right behind him.
He waits until Rodney’s finished unzipping himself and then springs, catching Rodney’s arms behind his back and waiting for the inevitable explosion.
It comes quickly. “What are you doing?” Rodney says in a high-pitched voice. “Can’t a man get some privacy?”
John considers his next move, because the whole thing was kind of spur-of-the-moment and it’s not like he’s ever tried anything like this before. He imagines himself in Rodney’s shoes, just what’d it take, and, yeah, that could work.
“Just tryin’ something,” he says, and rearranges until he’s holding Rodney’s arms with one hand and has the other one free.
“How about you try letting me go?” Rodney snaps.
John grins against the back of Rodney’s neck, because this is going to be good. “Feeling a little…tense?” he asks, and lightly presses his palm against the swell of Rodney’s belly.
Rodney sucks in his breath and makes an eeping noise. “But, that’s dirty!” he says, like it’s reason enough.
It’s not, because John likes dirty. And in fact, in order to get what he wants, he’s always been quite happy to play dirty, which is why he ignores Rodney and keeps on applying pressure - nothing too strong, just enough to make sure Rodney really feels it.
It’d been hot enough when it was only a half-baked thought, but it’s even hotter now that it’s happening right in front of him: Rodney’s squirming and muttering to himself and tugging at his arms - not really enough to get away, just enough to remind himself that John’s not going to let him escape. John files that away for further experimentation later, and returns all of his concentration to the right now.
“Sheppard,” Rodney says, and god, he’s panting. “You can’t really mean it.”
Oh, but he does. He changes it up a bit, turns the steady pressure into a gentle massage, enough to make sure Rodney can’t ignore what’s going on.
“You ready yet?” he murmurs into Rodney’s ear, giving the shell a little lick when he’s done.
“No!” Rodney practically squeaks, but then he shivers and John remembers. He experimentally breathes the hollow behind Rodney’s ear and Rodney melts into him, right before he giggles.
Yeah, Rodney’s toast.
“C’mon, do it for me,” he says against Rodney’s skin - Rodney’s extremely ticklish skin; the scratch of stubble must be excruciating.
He keeps up the mouthing, adding in a little licking and tooth-grazing here and there in order to keep things interesting. Rodney’s laughing helplessly and John can feel the shudder of his stomach muscles beneath his hand. It’s so fucking hot; John can barely stand it himself. He doesn’t know how Rodney’s managing to hold out.
“God, fine!” Rodney finally says. “Just, stop, please.”
“I’ll stop when you go,” John practically purrs, and who cares if it’s cheesy. It’s working.
He stops pressing on Rodney’s belly and moves his hand down to hold Rodney’s dick for him. “Like this,” he says, one last tickle before he lets up.
Rodney’s face is dubious, but he nods and John can actually feel him consciously relax, and then it’s just…wow.
It’s not like it’s really new for him - after all, he does it every day. But it’s nothing like that - nothing like standing next to a buddy and casually not looking, nothing like taking care of business without a second thought. It’s nothing like that at all.
It’s Rodney, blushing against John’s neck and burying his face into John’s shoulder. It’s Rodney, making contented noises under his breath that he clearly doesn’t want John to hear, but can’t control. It’s Rodney, wriggling his ass against John’s cock like he has no idea what he’s doing. It’s Rodney.
After Rodney’s finished, John holds him for another minute, gritting his teeth until he’s not right on the verge of coming in his pants. He gives Rodney a light shake before he lets go of his arms and helps zip him back up. It’s only a little bit awkward; mostly Rodney seems curious. Except John doesn’t know what to say.
“You okay?” he asks instead, and busies himself with smoothing down Rodney’s shirt.
Rodney snorts and knocks his hands away. “You know I am. Now spill.”
John smirks, because middle-school humor never stops being funny. “I thought that’s what you just did.”
There’s a lot he could say. About never knowing what he wanted before he met Rodney and maybe still not knowing what he wants but knowing he can have it. About how much he hates the barriers between them - hates taboos, hates people dictating what’s okay and what’s not. About what’d it’d felt like to have Rodney up against him like that, trusting John to hold him, trusting John to see and feel and smell and be.
There’s a lot he’ll never say. He’s just glad Rodney knows how to listen.
He shrugs instead and barely refrains from toeing the ground. “I thought it’d be cool.”
Rodney rolls his eyes. “We’ll talk about this later.” It’s half-threat and half-promise, and either way, John’s really not looking forward to it, but for now, he’s off the hook.
Rodney leans in and kisses him, licking inside his mouth, and he’s doing something to John’s pants, but John is extremely occupied with Rodney’s talented tongue, and wherever Rodney wants to lead, he’s happy to follow. Rodney can do whatever he wants.
Right up until Rodney nips the tip of his tongue. Hard.
“Hey!” John says, and jerks away.
Rodney grins at him and then drops to his knees, and, huh, John’s pants are already down around his ankles.
Only his pants though, he’s still wearing his boxers. A fact that becomes sharply obvious when Rodney starts nuzzling his cock right through them.
Most of John doesn’t care, because nuzzling is always good, but there’s a tiny bit of him there remembers that nakedness is the goal here and Rodney isn’t complying with the rules.
“Rodney,” he says, and he doesn’t care what Rodney tells him, it’s totally not a whine.
Rodney grins again, except this grin has teeth. “Oh, this isn’t the payback. That’ll come when you least expect it, and let’s just say that I won’t be nearly as helpful as you were.”
God. The thought alone makes John shudder.
“But for now,” Rodney continues, frighteningly gleeful, “I figure you deserve the *whole* experience.”
He sucks John in, right through the cloth of his boxers, and John can’t manage anything besides, “unh?”
“I think you can agree,” Rodney says, interspersed with more nipping - John wishes he’d never let Rodney know how much it turned him on. He can barely keep it together as is, and Rodney’s clearly just getting started. “Shouldn’t all public urination finish off with a wet spot?"
Title: Spill
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: NC-17
Length: ~1,300 words
Summary: Rodney sucks in his breath and makes an eeping noise. “But, that’s dirty!” he says, like it’s reason enough.
Notes: Almost everybody in my porn poll voted for spanking, so I got right on that and wrote...watersports. No worries though! I'm planning on posting every day, until the porn muse deserts me. Spanking and gag fic are both on the horizon! For now though, I hope you all enjoy this. It's something I've never written before, and not something I see a lot of in the fandom.
Huge thanks go to cupidsbow and shetiger for audiencing while I wrote.
Rodney’s been drinking all day. First coffee - lots and lots and lots of coffee - and then, once they started on the mission, he’s been swigging from his canteen nonstop. John notices absently, but doesn’t pay it much mind - until Rodney makes a snippy remark about how if they don’t hurry up and take a break, he’s going to wet his pants. After that, John sits up and pays attention.
It’s not a real mission, just an abandoned outpost on the mainland that needs occasional maintenance. He figured it’d be nice to spend some time with Rodney (and the ‘jumper, of course), and nudged until Rodney’d given in and agreed to go.
“We’ll stop in a bit, buddy,” he says when Rodney starts bitching again, then solicitously offers his own canteen. “Want any more? It’s pretty sunny today and you can’t be too careful.”
Rodney complains the whole way to the outpost, but John barely notices. He’s busy planning.
As soon as they get there, Rodney jerks a hand towards the woods, and heads off at a fast clip. John’s right behind him.
He waits until Rodney’s finished unzipping himself and then springs, catching Rodney’s arms behind his back and waiting for the inevitable explosion.
It comes quickly. “What are you doing?” Rodney says in a high-pitched voice. “Can’t a man get some privacy?”
John considers his next move, because the whole thing was kind of spur-of-the-moment and it’s not like he’s ever tried anything like this before. He imagines himself in Rodney’s shoes, just what’d it take, and, yeah, that could work.
“Just tryin’ something,” he says, and rearranges until he’s holding Rodney’s arms with one hand and has the other one free.
“How about you try letting me go?” Rodney snaps.
John grins against the back of Rodney’s neck, because this is going to be good. “Feeling a little…tense?” he asks, and lightly presses his palm against the swell of Rodney’s belly.
Rodney sucks in his breath and makes an eeping noise. “But, that’s dirty!” he says, like it’s reason enough.
It’s not, because John likes dirty. And in fact, in order to get what he wants, he’s always been quite happy to play dirty, which is why he ignores Rodney and keeps on applying pressure - nothing too strong, just enough to make sure Rodney really feels it.
It’d been hot enough when it was only a half-baked thought, but it’s even hotter now that it’s happening right in front of him: Rodney’s squirming and muttering to himself and tugging at his arms - not really enough to get away, just enough to remind himself that John’s not going to let him escape. John files that away for further experimentation later, and returns all of his concentration to the right now.
“Sheppard,” Rodney says, and god, he’s panting. “You can’t really mean it.”
Oh, but he does. He changes it up a bit, turns the steady pressure into a gentle massage, enough to make sure Rodney can’t ignore what’s going on.
“You ready yet?” he murmurs into Rodney’s ear, giving the shell a little lick when he’s done.
“No!” Rodney practically squeaks, but then he shivers and John remembers. He experimentally breathes the hollow behind Rodney’s ear and Rodney melts into him, right before he giggles.
Yeah, Rodney’s toast.
“C’mon, do it for me,” he says against Rodney’s skin - Rodney’s extremely ticklish skin; the scratch of stubble must be excruciating.
He keeps up the mouthing, adding in a little licking and tooth-grazing here and there in order to keep things interesting. Rodney’s laughing helplessly and John can feel the shudder of his stomach muscles beneath his hand. It’s so fucking hot; John can barely stand it himself. He doesn’t know how Rodney’s managing to hold out.
“God, fine!” Rodney finally says. “Just, stop, please.”
“I’ll stop when you go,” John practically purrs, and who cares if it’s cheesy. It’s working.
He stops pressing on Rodney’s belly and moves his hand down to hold Rodney’s dick for him. “Like this,” he says, one last tickle before he lets up.
Rodney’s face is dubious, but he nods and John can actually feel him consciously relax, and then it’s just…wow.
It’s not like it’s really new for him - after all, he does it every day. But it’s nothing like that - nothing like standing next to a buddy and casually not looking, nothing like taking care of business without a second thought. It’s nothing like that at all.
It’s Rodney, blushing against John’s neck and burying his face into John’s shoulder. It’s Rodney, making contented noises under his breath that he clearly doesn’t want John to hear, but can’t control. It’s Rodney, wriggling his ass against John’s cock like he has no idea what he’s doing. It’s Rodney.
After Rodney’s finished, John holds him for another minute, gritting his teeth until he’s not right on the verge of coming in his pants. He gives Rodney a light shake before he lets go of his arms and helps zip him back up. It’s only a little bit awkward; mostly Rodney seems curious. Except John doesn’t know what to say.
“You okay?” he asks instead, and busies himself with smoothing down Rodney’s shirt.
Rodney snorts and knocks his hands away. “You know I am. Now spill.”
John smirks, because middle-school humor never stops being funny. “I thought that’s what you just did.”
There’s a lot he could say. About never knowing what he wanted before he met Rodney and maybe still not knowing what he wants but knowing he can have it. About how much he hates the barriers between them - hates taboos, hates people dictating what’s okay and what’s not. About what’d it’d felt like to have Rodney up against him like that, trusting John to hold him, trusting John to see and feel and smell and be.
There’s a lot he’ll never say. He’s just glad Rodney knows how to listen.
He shrugs instead and barely refrains from toeing the ground. “I thought it’d be cool.”
Rodney rolls his eyes. “We’ll talk about this later.” It’s half-threat and half-promise, and either way, John’s really not looking forward to it, but for now, he’s off the hook.
Rodney leans in and kisses him, licking inside his mouth, and he’s doing something to John’s pants, but John is extremely occupied with Rodney’s talented tongue, and wherever Rodney wants to lead, he’s happy to follow. Rodney can do whatever he wants.
Right up until Rodney nips the tip of his tongue. Hard.
“Hey!” John says, and jerks away.
Rodney grins at him and then drops to his knees, and, huh, John’s pants are already down around his ankles.
Only his pants though, he’s still wearing his boxers. A fact that becomes sharply obvious when Rodney starts nuzzling his cock right through them.
Most of John doesn’t care, because nuzzling is always good, but there’s a tiny bit of him there remembers that nakedness is the goal here and Rodney isn’t complying with the rules.
“Rodney,” he says, and he doesn’t care what Rodney tells him, it’s totally not a whine.
Rodney grins again, except this grin has teeth. “Oh, this isn’t the payback. That’ll come when you least expect it, and let’s just say that I won’t be nearly as helpful as you were.”
God. The thought alone makes John shudder.
“But for now,” Rodney continues, frighteningly gleeful, “I figure you deserve the *whole* experience.”
He sucks John in, right through the cloth of his boxers, and John can’t manage anything besides, “unh?”
“I think you can agree,” Rodney says, interspersed with more nipping - John wishes he’d never let Rodney know how much it turned him on. He can barely keep it together as is, and Rodney’s clearly just getting started. “Shouldn’t all public urination finish off with a wet spot?"