Glove Love, 1/1, John/Rodney, NC-17/Adult
Author: darkhavens
Title: Glove Love
Fandom: Pairing: Stargate Atlantis: John Sheppard/Rodney McKay
Rating: NC-17/Adult
Words: 963 words
Concrit: Please. If you spot a typo, please feel free to tell me in comments.
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. No harm, no foul, no money made.
Summary: Rodney's hands are sex. Rodney's hands in fish-frog-lizard skin gloves make John go off like a rocket.
Notes: Written for my kink_bingo card ( here). (Object Penetration (Objects Not Designed For Sex) and Hand Fetish.) Thanks go to outsideth3box for pre-reading and for making me doublecheck my word choice.
Rodney's hands are sex. Dextrous, gentle, fast, blunt, solid, demanding, coaxing, ultimately irresistible sex. Just watching them pounding away at a keyboard is sometimes enough to get John thinking exhausting, sweaty thoughts. He's still getting used to the fact that he can actually make those thoughts real, can saunter casually over to the desk and, with one cheesy but effective eyebrow wiggle, flip a switch in Rodney's brain that throws him out of his 'Genius At Work, Do Not Disturb On Pain Of Death' mode straight into 'Sex. Yes. Now!'
It's a rush.
Sadly, right now it's not an option. The hands are busy speaking great truths, cutting broad swathes of idiocy from the autumn air and reforming it, moulding it into sweeping curves and short sharp lines of clear thinking. They snatch ideas out of nothingness, twisting them into tangible forms to use as building blocks in the effort to teach the people of this planet how to keep their Ancient tech in working order.
John watches and makes plans for the evening.
~
Once the repairs are complete and the maintenance crew have been educated to Rodney's exacting specifications, the Udarans gift each of them with a pair of gloves made from the skin of a native fish-frog-lizard thing that seems to be used for everything, from food to clothing, from ink to lube.
The Udarans claim the gloves are waterproof and washable, hypo-allergenic and stretch-to-fit, and a dozen other things John doesn't listen to because, while they're talking, Rodney has tugged his on and is waggling his fingers and clenching his fists and rubbing one pale blue-green glove across his cheek, humming happily.
John is entranced.
~
The debrief is almost over when Rodney and Sam get into an argument about some of the maintenance instructions Rodney drummed into the willing Udaran scientists. After twenty minutes of completely ignored slouching, pointed eye contact and even a surreptitious eyebrow wiggle, John resorts to dirty tricks by scraping the legs of his chair on the floor as he pushes it back to stand. When he's sure he has Rodney's full attention, he slaps his new blue gloves against the palm of his left hand and smirks.
"I have… stuff to do. See you later, Rodney, Colonel."
And he knows that, as he leaves, Rodney's eyes are on his ass every step of the way.
~
Rodney keeps John waiting for two hours and thirteen minutes, not that John's counting. But when he finally shows up, he's got his new gloves in one hand and a plate of cookies in the other.
"Snacks, for intermission," he announces with a grin, carefully setting the plate down out of the way of potential flailing limbs. John's fairly sure he still hasn't been forgiven for the premature demise of the chocolate pudding last month during their unplanned tickle fight.
Then Rodney ostentatiously slides the fish-frog-lizard gloves on, and John's focus narrows down to ten green-blue digits.
~
Rodney takes his time stripping John down to his bare skin, very careful not to touch him any more than is absolutely necessary to get the job done. It drives John crazy.
In contrast, Rodney's own clothes are yanked off and tossed away with speed and carelessness until he's standing beside John's bed completely naked except for the gloves.
He plants one hand in the center of John's chest and shoves, and John allows himself to topple backwards onto the too firm mattress. Rodney follows him down, knees nudging in between John's thighs, opening him up. And then he begins to touch.
~
The first brush of Rodney's gloved hand against his cock is electrifying. It's cooler than Rodney's bare skin, just a couple of degrees, just enough to be noticeable against the heat of John's erection. The texture is different too, sleeker somehow, as though Rodney's catalogue of ever-changing nicks and burns have been smoothed away, painted over with a fine layer of slippery silk.
John pushes up into Rodney's loose grip, feeling the ridge of each finger bump and slide over his glans. It's not enough.
"C'mon, Rodney, it's not nice to tease."
"Whatever gave you the impression I was nice?"
He gives a teasingly gentle flicker of fingers against John's perineum before withdrawing his touch completely. A nasal whine escapes from John before he figures out that Rodney's only reaching for the lube on the bedside table.
Oh. Wow. Is he…?
Apparently so.
Rodney slathers the fingers of both hands with scent-free gel and turns back to John.
"I would have been here sooner but I made Keller check that the gloves were as inert as the Udarans claimed. I fucked a guy once who discovered his allergy to latex the hard way. I never want to go through that again."
John blinks and considers pointing out how tactless it is to mention previous lovers during foreplay, but then there's Rodney's gloved right hand wrapping tightly around his cock, pumping and twisting in the way that Rodney knows he's powerless to resist. And then two blunt fingers on Rodney's gloved left hand are pushing their way into him, screwing him open, nailing his prostate with unnerving accuracy.
Fireworks are already going off behind his eyes when Rodney bends down and takes the crown of John's cock into his mouth and sucks. Hard.
John comes embarrassingly fast, and can only lie there and laugh, breathless and replete, as Rodney carefully peels the gloves off and sets them down.
"Maybe I should run some tests on these myself. You don't usually have that much of a hair trigger."
John's hand - bare - on Rodney's cock derails any further talk of tests. John figures he can explain the hand kink thing later, if he really has to. Right now he has his own hands full.
Title: Glove Love
Fandom: Pairing: Stargate Atlantis: John Sheppard/Rodney McKay
Rating: NC-17/Adult
Words: 963 words
Concrit: Please. If you spot a typo, please feel free to tell me in comments.
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. No harm, no foul, no money made.
Summary: Rodney's hands are sex. Rodney's hands in fish-frog-lizard skin gloves make John go off like a rocket.
Notes: Written for my kink_bingo card ( here). (Object Penetration (Objects Not Designed For Sex) and Hand Fetish.) Thanks go to outsideth3box for pre-reading and for making me doublecheck my word choice.
Rodney's hands are sex. Dextrous, gentle, fast, blunt, solid, demanding, coaxing, ultimately irresistible sex. Just watching them pounding away at a keyboard is sometimes enough to get John thinking exhausting, sweaty thoughts. He's still getting used to the fact that he can actually make those thoughts real, can saunter casually over to the desk and, with one cheesy but effective eyebrow wiggle, flip a switch in Rodney's brain that throws him out of his 'Genius At Work, Do Not Disturb On Pain Of Death' mode straight into 'Sex. Yes. Now!'
It's a rush.
Sadly, right now it's not an option. The hands are busy speaking great truths, cutting broad swathes of idiocy from the autumn air and reforming it, moulding it into sweeping curves and short sharp lines of clear thinking. They snatch ideas out of nothingness, twisting them into tangible forms to use as building blocks in the effort to teach the people of this planet how to keep their Ancient tech in working order.
John watches and makes plans for the evening.
~
Once the repairs are complete and the maintenance crew have been educated to Rodney's exacting specifications, the Udarans gift each of them with a pair of gloves made from the skin of a native fish-frog-lizard thing that seems to be used for everything, from food to clothing, from ink to lube.
The Udarans claim the gloves are waterproof and washable, hypo-allergenic and stretch-to-fit, and a dozen other things John doesn't listen to because, while they're talking, Rodney has tugged his on and is waggling his fingers and clenching his fists and rubbing one pale blue-green glove across his cheek, humming happily.
John is entranced.
~
The debrief is almost over when Rodney and Sam get into an argument about some of the maintenance instructions Rodney drummed into the willing Udaran scientists. After twenty minutes of completely ignored slouching, pointed eye contact and even a surreptitious eyebrow wiggle, John resorts to dirty tricks by scraping the legs of his chair on the floor as he pushes it back to stand. When he's sure he has Rodney's full attention, he slaps his new blue gloves against the palm of his left hand and smirks.
"I have… stuff to do. See you later, Rodney, Colonel."
And he knows that, as he leaves, Rodney's eyes are on his ass every step of the way.
~
Rodney keeps John waiting for two hours and thirteen minutes, not that John's counting. But when he finally shows up, he's got his new gloves in one hand and a plate of cookies in the other.
"Snacks, for intermission," he announces with a grin, carefully setting the plate down out of the way of potential flailing limbs. John's fairly sure he still hasn't been forgiven for the premature demise of the chocolate pudding last month during their unplanned tickle fight.
Then Rodney ostentatiously slides the fish-frog-lizard gloves on, and John's focus narrows down to ten green-blue digits.
~
Rodney takes his time stripping John down to his bare skin, very careful not to touch him any more than is absolutely necessary to get the job done. It drives John crazy.
In contrast, Rodney's own clothes are yanked off and tossed away with speed and carelessness until he's standing beside John's bed completely naked except for the gloves.
He plants one hand in the center of John's chest and shoves, and John allows himself to topple backwards onto the too firm mattress. Rodney follows him down, knees nudging in between John's thighs, opening him up. And then he begins to touch.
~
The first brush of Rodney's gloved hand against his cock is electrifying. It's cooler than Rodney's bare skin, just a couple of degrees, just enough to be noticeable against the heat of John's erection. The texture is different too, sleeker somehow, as though Rodney's catalogue of ever-changing nicks and burns have been smoothed away, painted over with a fine layer of slippery silk.
John pushes up into Rodney's loose grip, feeling the ridge of each finger bump and slide over his glans. It's not enough.
"C'mon, Rodney, it's not nice to tease."
"Whatever gave you the impression I was nice?"
He gives a teasingly gentle flicker of fingers against John's perineum before withdrawing his touch completely. A nasal whine escapes from John before he figures out that Rodney's only reaching for the lube on the bedside table.
Oh. Wow. Is he…?
Apparently so.
Rodney slathers the fingers of both hands with scent-free gel and turns back to John.
"I would have been here sooner but I made Keller check that the gloves were as inert as the Udarans claimed. I fucked a guy once who discovered his allergy to latex the hard way. I never want to go through that again."
John blinks and considers pointing out how tactless it is to mention previous lovers during foreplay, but then there's Rodney's gloved right hand wrapping tightly around his cock, pumping and twisting in the way that Rodney knows he's powerless to resist. And then two blunt fingers on Rodney's gloved left hand are pushing their way into him, screwing him open, nailing his prostate with unnerving accuracy.
Fireworks are already going off behind his eyes when Rodney bends down and takes the crown of John's cock into his mouth and sucks. Hard.
John comes embarrassingly fast, and can only lie there and laugh, breathless and replete, as Rodney carefully peels the gloves off and sets them down.
"Maybe I should run some tests on these myself. You don't usually have that much of a hair trigger."
John's hand - bare - on Rodney's cock derails any further talk of tests. John figures he can explain the hand kink thing later, if he really has to. Right now he has his own hands full.