[SGA] John/Rodney - Synchronized
Title: Synchronized
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: John/Rodney
Word Count: 2,400
Rating: NC-17
Summary: John and Rodney discover Ancient devices that create shared nerve impulses between the wearers.
Notes: For popkin16, because she is a fic enabler. Concept for the fic inspired by an episode of Farscape.
John was agitated by the time he made it back to his room, absently worrying the band of cool metal around his right wrist. The doors to his room whooshed shut behind him. He collapsed back on the narrow bed. Trust the Ancients to come up with yet another piece of tech with no apparent practical use.
Oh, the bracelet was interesting enough, to be sure. At least, it had seemed so when, on a routine exploration of the city, John had discovered the two metal bands and shown them to Rodney. Of course, then his gene and Rodney's artificial one in proximity had activated the bracelets, as they'd later found out when they looked the devices up in the ancient database. The bracelets had immediately attached themselves to John and Rodney's wrists, and no amount of pulling or wishing really hard would get them off.
The bracelets hadn't had any immediate effects, either, and Rodney-annoyed and complaining that John's magic genes had wasted an afternoon of searching the city-had gone back to the lab to research how to remove them. John was sure Rodney would figure it out soon enough, and he'd gone to join Ronon and Teyla's afternoon sparring session.
It had been ten minutes into the workout when his radio had chirped loudly in his ear, and then Rodney's voice was clamoring, panicked: "Ow, ow, stop whatever you're doing! I figured out what these things do!"
Synchronized nerve impulses. That was what Rodney had told John when he arrived at the lab, grimacing at the bruise forming on his elbow. Rodney was nursing the same spot on himself as he pointed out the entry in the database. A way to make two people connected by the bracelets feel each other's pain. For what purpose, neither of them could figure. The Ancients had made far weirder devices. But they had apparently shelved this one after they couldn't resolve the deactivation issue between the bracelets. Whether you wanted them to or not, the bracelets remained on the wearers for anywhere from three to five Lantean days, according to the database.
Tests had followed. After the third time John was pinched to see if it elicited a reaction from Rodney (from behind an infirmary curtain, of course, not that that had blocked Rodney's yelp), they were both tired of the devices.
"That's it! I've had enough of your voodoo!" Rodney said, pushing past Carson to get to the infirmary door. "I can tell what these things do from my own research. Which I already did."
Elizabeth had come down shortly after, to inform John of what he had already suspected. That all their off-world missions for the next few days would have to be postponed or assigned to other gate teams. John accepted that, and that wasn't what had him frustrated. He was more concerned about Rodney's behavior.
After Elizabeth had made the call, Rodney had retreated to his labs, and not even paging him over radio could draw him out. John was worried Rodney blamed him for what had happened. And maybe, on some level, Rodney was blaming himself for their current benched status. If Rodney were to get hurt on a mission, it could compromise John.
In truth, John was worried about the opposite. Injuries he bore well enough, but the last thing he wanted was to cause Rodney any pain. But he didn't know how to assuage his friend's fears, especially when Rodney wasn't answering his radio hails.
John lay back on the bed, absently massaging the skin along the metal band. He'd felt phantom twinges all afternoon, and after the first couple times turning to see if someone had touched him, he had almost grown used to it. Probably just Rodney recording data.
As John dragged his thumb along the inside of his wrist, he wondered, absently, if Rodney could feel that too. Synchronized nerve impulses. That didn't have to mean just pain. And, in fact, the Ancient database hadn’t specified. He and Rodney had just made an inference, based on the initial results. John smiled to himself. He was thinking like a scientist. Like Rodney.
He realized he had been caressing the inside of his wrist with his thumb now for several moments, and halted. If Rodney could feel that-and indeed, there was no reason he shouldn't, not based on the phantom touches John had felt all day-what must he think? He knew, they both knew, they were linked for the next three to five days. That anything felt by one of them would be felt by both. For John to be continually touching the inside of his wrist, it must feel like…an invitation.
John drew a quick breath as he felt an answering touch, a tingle against the side of his neck, moving up, until it traced the shell of his ear. There was no way that could be construed as anything but deliberately sexual.
The radio at John's ear beeped, the triple-beep signaling it was coming over a private channel. John answered it, distracted by the way his ear felt hot to the touch.
"Yeah?" his voice sounded hoarse.
"If this is-" Rodney said, then hesitated. His voice sounded almost shaky, but then he continued, emboldened, "If you want me stop, slap your arm."
The transmission ended. That was just as well, because John was still processing this, and he didn't know if he could do this with Rodney's voice right there (or maybe he could, and that was what he was afraid of). Maybe that was what made it easier for Rodney, too. If it was easier to be brave when he couldn't see John, couldn't hear him, just knew that they were feeling the same thing.
The touch started again at John's ear, making his face flush hot. It trailed down his neck, and John shivered. He wondered if Rodney was in his quarters doing this. If he had stripped down to nothing and was lying on his bed, naked and touching himself, knowing John would feel everything.
That mental image made John's cock swell so that it was pushing against the inside of his BDUs. He wondered if Rodney would experience an erection at the same time he did. Synchronized nerve impulses. He wondered, then, if it was his own arousal he was feeling, or actually Rodney's. He wondered if that actually mattered.
The point was, Rodney was doing this, and John…John wanted this. But that lingering fear remained. The same fear he had detected in Rodney's voice for the briefest of moments. Fears centered around their friendship, their working relationship, and how this could affect that. What if he jeopardized that?
The touch at John's neck vanished, leaving him feeling bereft, his nerves on edge. He waited for it to continue. What if Rodney was waiting for him to make the next move? They'd always had this push-pull, where they were sometimes in sync, sometimes at odds. But always, always moving in the same direction. And this-what was one more line blurred and redrawn?
John turned his head and angled it so his chin was brushing his collarbone. He flicked his tongue out, licking a stripe to his shoulder. Then he blew a stream of air, chilling the skin and raising the hairs there. That ought to send a clear message to Rodney. As if in answer, his whole body seemed to tremble, and his cock strained further against its confines. That wasn't John's own reaction to what he'd done, it was Rodney's echoing back on him. Rodney was getting off on this. They both were.
The question of whether or not Rodney had any clothes on was more or less answered a moment later as John felt a feather-light touch at his nipple. John had never found his nipples to be particularly sensitive, but apparently Rodney's were. The light touch was maddening, and he found his nipples tightening until they were visible through his shirt. John needed to get his clothes off, now.
John struggled to shuck his clothes as quickly as he was able. He wondered what that must feel like from Rodney's end. John felt a pinch as his nipple in response, and he gasped at how sensitive he was. Now naked, John considered his next move. Turnabout was fair play, and he ought to pay attention to somewhere that was sensitive for him, that might not be for Rodney.
Or-a new thought brought John up short. Or, he should try to find Rodney's other erogenous zones. He wondered, if he touched somewhere that didn't normally elicit a reaction from him, if it would have the same or different effect on someone else? Maybe he could take note for a time when he and Rodney were together.
That thought brought John up short, but not in an unpleasant way. In a way that made him want more. If I were Rodney, where would my erogenous zones be? John considered. He thought about Rodney, what he would do if Rodney was with him now.
The touch at John's nipples hadn't abated, and John moved his hands down, past his chest, down to his abdomen. The dark hair there was coarse against his fingers. John had never cared for it. But Rodney, John had always had a fondness for how broad Rodney was. And he had never gotten a good look at Rodney's belly, but he could imagine it from the way those science shirts stretched across it. The smattering of fine hair would taper down to a trail, and the skin would be soft.
John dragged his fingertips down his abdomen, the nails scraping lightly. The reaction was instantaneous. Goosebumps sprang up in the wake of his fingers, and his whole body seemed to shudder from it. His cock jumped, leaking precome against his naval.
"Wow," John breathed, just has his radio beeped again. He fumbled to answer it.
"Could you-" Rodney's voice sounded ragged. "Could you…do something for me?"
"Anything," John found himself saying without hesitation.
"If you could move your hands…away from your body. At your sides, above your head-hell, grab the headboard if you need to. Just-don't touch yourself. I want to try something."
I want to try something. To be the focus of Rodney's attentions…that idea made him groan into the headset. John withdrew his hands immediately and reached back, gripping the headboard in a loose hold. He felt exposed, almost vulnerable, though it was only him in the room.
"Rodney!" John said before the radio could beep out again. His voice sounded desperate to his own ears. "Don't leave. I…want to hear you."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
There was a shaky breath, what could have been a sigh, over the radio, and then silence. It was enough to know that Rodney was still there, would say something soon. Would touch them both soon. The wait was maddening, and John clenched his hands tighter at the headboard. He told Rodney he would do this. He trusted whatever Rodney wanted to try.
When the touch finally came, it was unexpected. John had been prepared for more teasing, attention paid to the nipples, perhaps his inner thigh. He wasn't ready for the slow drag against his cock, and he drew a quick breath.
"Are you naked?" Rodney asked, as the pressure against John's cock increased. He could imagine it, the head of his cock slowly disappearing in the circle of Rodney's fist. The strangest thing was that he could feel his nerve endings telling him his cock was being touched, but the skin showed no evidence of that.
"Yes," John gasped.
The pressure on his cock eased to a barely-there touch, and John groaned. His hips twitched upwards, straining to get closer to Rodney's touch even as he knew it was futile. What felt like a thumb trailed across the head, John let out a whine of frustration.
"That's so hot," Rodney said, voice pitched low in a way that was making John seriously reconsider his decision to keep his hands clear of his body. He couldn't interrupt this, though, not when every pass of what John could only guess was Rodney's thumb kept hitting nerves that had his entire body alight with pleasure.
"Wish-" Rodney's voice had grown more ragged. He was just as far along as John was, every zing of pleasure echoing and rebounding back between them both. "Wish I could see you."
"Next time," John said. Promised. Because, oh, there would be a next time. He would make sure of that. But there was no way he would be able to interrupt this now to get them in the same room. He was too far gone, every pull of Rodney's hand on his own cock bringing them closer, together, to the edge.
"Yeah," Rodney said, sounding relieved and awed at the same time, as he finally increased his pace and his pressure. Fast was how John liked it, and his body responded to the difference in tempo. Rodney felt it at the same time he did, muttering out a string of "Fuck! John!" through the radio earpiece.
They were close, shuddering together. John's entire body felt alive with their synchronized pleasures. It was that, and not the feel of Rodney's hand on him, that pushed him to the brink. The idea that everything he felt, Rodney was feeling too, exactly as he felt it. He knew the spots on Rodney's body almost as intimately as he knew his own. None of that awkward, fumbling, "How does that feel for you?" Because he knew. Knew Rodney was enjoying this, wanted this, as much as him.
They came together, their groans mingling in the stillness of their rooms. John felt over-sensitized as he released his hands from the headboard. He looked down at the mess he'd made of himself. Fatigue was pulling at him, and he wondered if that was Rodney, post-coital and boneless in his own quarters. John wanted to succumb to that, relax into his own bed and consider this, all of this, tomorrow. He couldn't resist, however, trailing a hand down to the sticky mess and painting a finger through it. He heard Rodney's hitched breath over the radio.
"How long will we have these?" John asked, looking at the metal band on his wrist again. Sweat and body heat had warmed it, and he found he no longer minded the temporary nuisance.
"Three to five days," Rodney murmured, sounding sleepy and smug.
"I'm looking forward to it," John said, privately hoping it would be the longer end of the spectrum.
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: John/Rodney
Word Count: 2,400
Rating: NC-17
Summary: John and Rodney discover Ancient devices that create shared nerve impulses between the wearers.
Notes: For popkin16, because she is a fic enabler. Concept for the fic inspired by an episode of Farscape.
John was agitated by the time he made it back to his room, absently worrying the band of cool metal around his right wrist. The doors to his room whooshed shut behind him. He collapsed back on the narrow bed. Trust the Ancients to come up with yet another piece of tech with no apparent practical use.
Oh, the bracelet was interesting enough, to be sure. At least, it had seemed so when, on a routine exploration of the city, John had discovered the two metal bands and shown them to Rodney. Of course, then his gene and Rodney's artificial one in proximity had activated the bracelets, as they'd later found out when they looked the devices up in the ancient database. The bracelets had immediately attached themselves to John and Rodney's wrists, and no amount of pulling or wishing really hard would get them off.
The bracelets hadn't had any immediate effects, either, and Rodney-annoyed and complaining that John's magic genes had wasted an afternoon of searching the city-had gone back to the lab to research how to remove them. John was sure Rodney would figure it out soon enough, and he'd gone to join Ronon and Teyla's afternoon sparring session.
It had been ten minutes into the workout when his radio had chirped loudly in his ear, and then Rodney's voice was clamoring, panicked: "Ow, ow, stop whatever you're doing! I figured out what these things do!"
Synchronized nerve impulses. That was what Rodney had told John when he arrived at the lab, grimacing at the bruise forming on his elbow. Rodney was nursing the same spot on himself as he pointed out the entry in the database. A way to make two people connected by the bracelets feel each other's pain. For what purpose, neither of them could figure. The Ancients had made far weirder devices. But they had apparently shelved this one after they couldn't resolve the deactivation issue between the bracelets. Whether you wanted them to or not, the bracelets remained on the wearers for anywhere from three to five Lantean days, according to the database.
Tests had followed. After the third time John was pinched to see if it elicited a reaction from Rodney (from behind an infirmary curtain, of course, not that that had blocked Rodney's yelp), they were both tired of the devices.
"That's it! I've had enough of your voodoo!" Rodney said, pushing past Carson to get to the infirmary door. "I can tell what these things do from my own research. Which I already did."
Elizabeth had come down shortly after, to inform John of what he had already suspected. That all their off-world missions for the next few days would have to be postponed or assigned to other gate teams. John accepted that, and that wasn't what had him frustrated. He was more concerned about Rodney's behavior.
After Elizabeth had made the call, Rodney had retreated to his labs, and not even paging him over radio could draw him out. John was worried Rodney blamed him for what had happened. And maybe, on some level, Rodney was blaming himself for their current benched status. If Rodney were to get hurt on a mission, it could compromise John.
In truth, John was worried about the opposite. Injuries he bore well enough, but the last thing he wanted was to cause Rodney any pain. But he didn't know how to assuage his friend's fears, especially when Rodney wasn't answering his radio hails.
John lay back on the bed, absently massaging the skin along the metal band. He'd felt phantom twinges all afternoon, and after the first couple times turning to see if someone had touched him, he had almost grown used to it. Probably just Rodney recording data.
As John dragged his thumb along the inside of his wrist, he wondered, absently, if Rodney could feel that too. Synchronized nerve impulses. That didn't have to mean just pain. And, in fact, the Ancient database hadn’t specified. He and Rodney had just made an inference, based on the initial results. John smiled to himself. He was thinking like a scientist. Like Rodney.
He realized he had been caressing the inside of his wrist with his thumb now for several moments, and halted. If Rodney could feel that-and indeed, there was no reason he shouldn't, not based on the phantom touches John had felt all day-what must he think? He knew, they both knew, they were linked for the next three to five days. That anything felt by one of them would be felt by both. For John to be continually touching the inside of his wrist, it must feel like…an invitation.
John drew a quick breath as he felt an answering touch, a tingle against the side of his neck, moving up, until it traced the shell of his ear. There was no way that could be construed as anything but deliberately sexual.
The radio at John's ear beeped, the triple-beep signaling it was coming over a private channel. John answered it, distracted by the way his ear felt hot to the touch.
"Yeah?" his voice sounded hoarse.
"If this is-" Rodney said, then hesitated. His voice sounded almost shaky, but then he continued, emboldened, "If you want me stop, slap your arm."
The transmission ended. That was just as well, because John was still processing this, and he didn't know if he could do this with Rodney's voice right there (or maybe he could, and that was what he was afraid of). Maybe that was what made it easier for Rodney, too. If it was easier to be brave when he couldn't see John, couldn't hear him, just knew that they were feeling the same thing.
The touch started again at John's ear, making his face flush hot. It trailed down his neck, and John shivered. He wondered if Rodney was in his quarters doing this. If he had stripped down to nothing and was lying on his bed, naked and touching himself, knowing John would feel everything.
That mental image made John's cock swell so that it was pushing against the inside of his BDUs. He wondered if Rodney would experience an erection at the same time he did. Synchronized nerve impulses. He wondered, then, if it was his own arousal he was feeling, or actually Rodney's. He wondered if that actually mattered.
The point was, Rodney was doing this, and John…John wanted this. But that lingering fear remained. The same fear he had detected in Rodney's voice for the briefest of moments. Fears centered around their friendship, their working relationship, and how this could affect that. What if he jeopardized that?
The touch at John's neck vanished, leaving him feeling bereft, his nerves on edge. He waited for it to continue. What if Rodney was waiting for him to make the next move? They'd always had this push-pull, where they were sometimes in sync, sometimes at odds. But always, always moving in the same direction. And this-what was one more line blurred and redrawn?
John turned his head and angled it so his chin was brushing his collarbone. He flicked his tongue out, licking a stripe to his shoulder. Then he blew a stream of air, chilling the skin and raising the hairs there. That ought to send a clear message to Rodney. As if in answer, his whole body seemed to tremble, and his cock strained further against its confines. That wasn't John's own reaction to what he'd done, it was Rodney's echoing back on him. Rodney was getting off on this. They both were.
The question of whether or not Rodney had any clothes on was more or less answered a moment later as John felt a feather-light touch at his nipple. John had never found his nipples to be particularly sensitive, but apparently Rodney's were. The light touch was maddening, and he found his nipples tightening until they were visible through his shirt. John needed to get his clothes off, now.
John struggled to shuck his clothes as quickly as he was able. He wondered what that must feel like from Rodney's end. John felt a pinch as his nipple in response, and he gasped at how sensitive he was. Now naked, John considered his next move. Turnabout was fair play, and he ought to pay attention to somewhere that was sensitive for him, that might not be for Rodney.
Or-a new thought brought John up short. Or, he should try to find Rodney's other erogenous zones. He wondered, if he touched somewhere that didn't normally elicit a reaction from him, if it would have the same or different effect on someone else? Maybe he could take note for a time when he and Rodney were together.
That thought brought John up short, but not in an unpleasant way. In a way that made him want more. If I were Rodney, where would my erogenous zones be? John considered. He thought about Rodney, what he would do if Rodney was with him now.
The touch at John's nipples hadn't abated, and John moved his hands down, past his chest, down to his abdomen. The dark hair there was coarse against his fingers. John had never cared for it. But Rodney, John had always had a fondness for how broad Rodney was. And he had never gotten a good look at Rodney's belly, but he could imagine it from the way those science shirts stretched across it. The smattering of fine hair would taper down to a trail, and the skin would be soft.
John dragged his fingertips down his abdomen, the nails scraping lightly. The reaction was instantaneous. Goosebumps sprang up in the wake of his fingers, and his whole body seemed to shudder from it. His cock jumped, leaking precome against his naval.
"Wow," John breathed, just has his radio beeped again. He fumbled to answer it.
"Could you-" Rodney's voice sounded ragged. "Could you…do something for me?"
"Anything," John found himself saying without hesitation.
"If you could move your hands…away from your body. At your sides, above your head-hell, grab the headboard if you need to. Just-don't touch yourself. I want to try something."
I want to try something. To be the focus of Rodney's attentions…that idea made him groan into the headset. John withdrew his hands immediately and reached back, gripping the headboard in a loose hold. He felt exposed, almost vulnerable, though it was only him in the room.
"Rodney!" John said before the radio could beep out again. His voice sounded desperate to his own ears. "Don't leave. I…want to hear you."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
There was a shaky breath, what could have been a sigh, over the radio, and then silence. It was enough to know that Rodney was still there, would say something soon. Would touch them both soon. The wait was maddening, and John clenched his hands tighter at the headboard. He told Rodney he would do this. He trusted whatever Rodney wanted to try.
When the touch finally came, it was unexpected. John had been prepared for more teasing, attention paid to the nipples, perhaps his inner thigh. He wasn't ready for the slow drag against his cock, and he drew a quick breath.
"Are you naked?" Rodney asked, as the pressure against John's cock increased. He could imagine it, the head of his cock slowly disappearing in the circle of Rodney's fist. The strangest thing was that he could feel his nerve endings telling him his cock was being touched, but the skin showed no evidence of that.
"Yes," John gasped.
The pressure on his cock eased to a barely-there touch, and John groaned. His hips twitched upwards, straining to get closer to Rodney's touch even as he knew it was futile. What felt like a thumb trailed across the head, John let out a whine of frustration.
"That's so hot," Rodney said, voice pitched low in a way that was making John seriously reconsider his decision to keep his hands clear of his body. He couldn't interrupt this, though, not when every pass of what John could only guess was Rodney's thumb kept hitting nerves that had his entire body alight with pleasure.
"Wish-" Rodney's voice had grown more ragged. He was just as far along as John was, every zing of pleasure echoing and rebounding back between them both. "Wish I could see you."
"Next time," John said. Promised. Because, oh, there would be a next time. He would make sure of that. But there was no way he would be able to interrupt this now to get them in the same room. He was too far gone, every pull of Rodney's hand on his own cock bringing them closer, together, to the edge.
"Yeah," Rodney said, sounding relieved and awed at the same time, as he finally increased his pace and his pressure. Fast was how John liked it, and his body responded to the difference in tempo. Rodney felt it at the same time he did, muttering out a string of "Fuck! John!" through the radio earpiece.
They were close, shuddering together. John's entire body felt alive with their synchronized pleasures. It was that, and not the feel of Rodney's hand on him, that pushed him to the brink. The idea that everything he felt, Rodney was feeling too, exactly as he felt it. He knew the spots on Rodney's body almost as intimately as he knew his own. None of that awkward, fumbling, "How does that feel for you?" Because he knew. Knew Rodney was enjoying this, wanted this, as much as him.
They came together, their groans mingling in the stillness of their rooms. John felt over-sensitized as he released his hands from the headboard. He looked down at the mess he'd made of himself. Fatigue was pulling at him, and he wondered if that was Rodney, post-coital and boneless in his own quarters. John wanted to succumb to that, relax into his own bed and consider this, all of this, tomorrow. He couldn't resist, however, trailing a hand down to the sticky mess and painting a finger through it. He heard Rodney's hitched breath over the radio.
"How long will we have these?" John asked, looking at the metal band on his wrist again. Sweat and body heat had warmed it, and he found he no longer minded the temporary nuisance.
"Three to five days," Rodney murmured, sounding sleepy and smug.
"I'm looking forward to it," John said, privately hoping it would be the longer end of the spectrum.