Fic: Talky Sex
Title: Talky Sex
Author: Blacknblue2
Pairing(s): McKay/Sheppard
Rating: NC17
Vetted By: tesserae_
Warnings: A teeny, teeny bit of D/s kink.
Author’s Note: Written for Yin_again’s birthday. Also, huge, huge thanks to
tesserae_ for all her help.
Summary: The call sheet says it all: Rodney - 2 PM: Photo shoot for DVD cover. Look sexy.
"Oh, my God!"
John slowly opens one eye at Rodney's exclamation.
"Look!" Rodney shouts, holding up a piece of paper. When John doesn't look quickly enough for his tastes, Rodney shoves the paper in front of John's face.
"Look!" Rodney points at the paper. "Rodney - 2 PM: Photo shoot for DVD cover!"
"Rodney," John says muzzily, squinting through sleep-slanted eyes, "you've known about this for weeks."
"No," Rodney replies, stubborn like a petulant child.
"Rodney-" John tries again, running a hand through his hair as he sits up.
"No! Absolutely not!" Rodney shouts, his voice verging on hysteria.
"Rodney!"
"Why are you still talking? You obviously aren't grasping the concept here. I. Can't. Do. It," Rodney says slowly, as though speaking to a particularly dense child.
Surrendering himself to the inevitable, John lets out a put-upon sigh. "Okay, Rodney. Why not?"
"I've never done this before!"
"Rodney, we do this all the time." John pauses, then looks at Rodney incredulously. "We did this last week!"
"Exactly! We! I've never done this! Never by myself!"
"Only because you've always bitched your way out of it."
"And for good reason! I only tried it the one time, and look how that turned out!"
John buries his head in his hands. "Dammit, Rodney, why did you wait until now to start this?"
Rodney looks sheepish. "I just kind of figured it would be both of us. I mean, it's always both of us. And then I happened to look at your schedule when I was getting some coffee - and seriously, who tapes their schedule to a cupboard? That's what the fridge is for. Why else did you get all those stupid magnets in the shape of fruit, anyway, if not to stick things to the damn fridge?"
John just lets Rodney ramble, knowing he'll eventually either come to the point or lose his train of thought - either of which would be fine by John who, let it be noted, has had zero cups of coffee to Rodney's four, and feels it is incredibly unfair to make him have this conversation under those conditions.
"-- And you don't have a photo shoot on your schedule!" Rodney finishes, pointing an accusing finger at John.
"Nope, I sure don't," answers John.
"Well. Well," Rodney stutters out before dropping his voice to a level John can barely hear and has to resort to reading lips in order to fill in the gaps, and even then it takes him a moment before he realizes what he's hearing is, "Will you come with me?”
John just smiles and lifts up the blankets next to him, inviting Rodney back to bed. "Of course I'll be there," he murmurs into Rodney's hair once his wonderful, infuriating partner is back in bed where he belongs.
*1:55 PM*
"Why do you need to do a separate shoot for the cover, anyway? Why can't you just put stills of us fucking on the cover?"
Sam gets a look of someone who's trying very, very hard not to grab the camera from the photographer and beat Rodney with it. "Because we want this to be classy, not trashy, McKay."
"It's porn! It's supposed to be trashy!"
Sam just stares at him until he folds like a broken slinky.
*2:10 PM*
"Rodney," Sam says, looking worried, "is everything okay? You don't look sexy, you look scared."
"Yes, Sam, thank you," Rodney snaps. "That's a very astute observation. Next time, why don't you try coming up with something that's actually helpful!"
"C'mon, Rodney, we need to see you smolder," Elizabeth says, gentling her voice as though coaxing an animal out of hiding.
"What do you mean, smolder? I don't smolder!" Rodney answers, his voice rising to a squeak and his eyes pinned to the glint off the camera in front of him.
"Sure you do," says a voice from just behind Rodney's left ear, instantly derailing his impending panic attack. Startled, he spins around, nearly losing his balance in the process, and thrashing around as he tries to prevent himself from falling into an ungainly heap on the floor.
"John!"
Catching Rodney by the upper arms, John quickly spins him back around to face the cameras. Rodney feels the heat of John pressing against his back, hands on Rodney's hips, holding him immobile.
"You smolder," John begins again, his voice dropping in register and gaining a rough edge, "when we're in bed together, my body holding you down, my dick sliding into you."
Rodney is still frantic, his breath coming in gasps. John tries another tactic.
"Or maybe it's before that: my hands touching you, running down your back, pushing you down onto the mattress, or against the wall, or down on the counter," Rodney's breath hitches, and John continues, "Fingers pushing inside you with no warning. That little catch-slide of too much impatience and not enough lube."
"Oh my God, John," Rodney says, voice wavering, but eyes glazed over by the picture that's being painted, "you can't do this here! There are people here!"
"I didn't ask your opinion, Rodney," John drawls. He tightens his hands on Rodney's hips, grinding more firmly against the jean-clad ass in front of him, causing Rodney to shudder and bite back a moan.
Rodney gives one last weak try, his face turning pink: "But what if they hear you?"
"All you need to focus on is me, Rodney. Trust me to take care of you. Nothing else matters."
Rodney opens his mouth again, but John bites down gently on the back of his neck, and he chokes on his reply.
"Right, Rodney?" John asks, his tongue flicking out to soothe the sting from the bite.
"R-right," Rodney stutters.
"So, you're down on the counter, squirming back against my fingers. I push you forward, pinning you against the cool tile, making you let out that little whimper I love so much."
Rodney is caught up in what John is saying and it takes him a moment to notice when John moves away. Rodney starts to turn, only to stop when John says, "Eyes front, Rodney." A thread of steel enters his voice as he asks, "Do I have to tell you again?"
Rodney's back instantly straightens, his eyes snapping to the front as he quickly shakes his head in the negative.
"Good boy," John says, in the voice Rodney loves, the voice he uses to tell Rodney that he is very, very pleased, and promises Rodney will be, too, if he only gives in to whatever John has in store.
John has never failed to keep that promise.
Rodney opens his mouth, only to quickly close it again before saying anything.
"You hear me opening drawers, pulling out the lube. Then I'm pushing into you, my hand pressing you down against the counter, pinning you there, forcing you to just lay there and take it. Just like you like it. Isn't that right?"
Rodney nods, his face flushed with arousal, all his attention focused on John.
"But you try. You try to push back, make me go faster, harder. You want that little bit of burn. You love knowing you'll feel it the next day. Then I'm all the way in, deep inside you. Right where I want to be. I stay there, as deep as I can, for just a moment. Then I start to move slowly - so slowly - and I finally stop pinning you down. You push back with what little leverage you have. You squirm against me until I can't help it, and I finally break."
Rodney lets out a whimper.
"I start moving faster and faster. Your fingers start scrabbling at the tile for purchase until I put my hands over yours, pressing my body against the length of your back. I kiss the back of your neck..."
John stumbles to a stop, face heating with embarrassment.
Rodney aims a smile toward John. You're such a romantic, it says.
"Until I turn my head and catch your lips with mine," Rodney says, taking up the thread. "I twine our fingers together, and that's what finally does it. That's what makes you lose control. Every time. That's what makes you come so, so deep inside me."
"--Cut!" Sam's voice rings across the room, causing identical glares to be focused on her from all sides. "Great, great, we're done here," Sam claps her hands together, "everyone out. Rodney, nice job. John, the set for tomorrow is set up next door." Sam quickly hustles everyone out of the room while John drags Rodney next door.
"John, where are we going? Why do we-- Ohhh. Bedroom set."
John shoves Rodney down onto the bed and slides up onto him. Rodney is more than ready, his hips thrusting up into John's as John finds his mouth, kissing him as he thrusts back, hard and needy and the rhythm is everything, everything John's voice had promised him earlier, only somewhat faster.
About fourteen seconds fast, in fact.
"Well," John says sheepishly, "that was less than stellar."
"Shut up, John," Rodney says, divesting them both of their clothes before pulling the blanket up over them.
Finally, John relaxes and molds himself to Rodney's side. "I nuzzle against the side of your throat," he says, matching action to words.
"Since when do you say things like 'nuzzle'?" asks an amused Rodney.
"Rodney?"
"Mmhmm?"
There's a moment of silence before John mumbles incoherently into Rodney's chest.
Rodney just smiles and kisses John's temple. "I love you, too, John."
Author: Blacknblue2
Pairing(s): McKay/Sheppard
Rating: NC17
Vetted By: tesserae_
Warnings: A teeny, teeny bit of D/s kink.
Author’s Note: Written for Yin_again’s birthday. Also, huge, huge thanks to
tesserae_ for all her help.
Summary: The call sheet says it all: Rodney - 2 PM: Photo shoot for DVD cover. Look sexy.
"Oh, my God!"
John slowly opens one eye at Rodney's exclamation.
"Look!" Rodney shouts, holding up a piece of paper. When John doesn't look quickly enough for his tastes, Rodney shoves the paper in front of John's face.
"Look!" Rodney points at the paper. "Rodney - 2 PM: Photo shoot for DVD cover!"
"Rodney," John says muzzily, squinting through sleep-slanted eyes, "you've known about this for weeks."
"No," Rodney replies, stubborn like a petulant child.
"Rodney-" John tries again, running a hand through his hair as he sits up.
"No! Absolutely not!" Rodney shouts, his voice verging on hysteria.
"Rodney!"
"Why are you still talking? You obviously aren't grasping the concept here. I. Can't. Do. It," Rodney says slowly, as though speaking to a particularly dense child.
Surrendering himself to the inevitable, John lets out a put-upon sigh. "Okay, Rodney. Why not?"
"I've never done this before!"
"Rodney, we do this all the time." John pauses, then looks at Rodney incredulously. "We did this last week!"
"Exactly! We! I've never done this! Never by myself!"
"Only because you've always bitched your way out of it."
"And for good reason! I only tried it the one time, and look how that turned out!"
John buries his head in his hands. "Dammit, Rodney, why did you wait until now to start this?"
Rodney looks sheepish. "I just kind of figured it would be both of us. I mean, it's always both of us. And then I happened to look at your schedule when I was getting some coffee - and seriously, who tapes their schedule to a cupboard? That's what the fridge is for. Why else did you get all those stupid magnets in the shape of fruit, anyway, if not to stick things to the damn fridge?"
John just lets Rodney ramble, knowing he'll eventually either come to the point or lose his train of thought - either of which would be fine by John who, let it be noted, has had zero cups of coffee to Rodney's four, and feels it is incredibly unfair to make him have this conversation under those conditions.
"-- And you don't have a photo shoot on your schedule!" Rodney finishes, pointing an accusing finger at John.
"Nope, I sure don't," answers John.
"Well. Well," Rodney stutters out before dropping his voice to a level John can barely hear and has to resort to reading lips in order to fill in the gaps, and even then it takes him a moment before he realizes what he's hearing is, "Will you come with me?”
John just smiles and lifts up the blankets next to him, inviting Rodney back to bed. "Of course I'll be there," he murmurs into Rodney's hair once his wonderful, infuriating partner is back in bed where he belongs.
*1:55 PM*
"Why do you need to do a separate shoot for the cover, anyway? Why can't you just put stills of us fucking on the cover?"
Sam gets a look of someone who's trying very, very hard not to grab the camera from the photographer and beat Rodney with it. "Because we want this to be classy, not trashy, McKay."
"It's porn! It's supposed to be trashy!"
Sam just stares at him until he folds like a broken slinky.
*2:10 PM*
"Rodney," Sam says, looking worried, "is everything okay? You don't look sexy, you look scared."
"Yes, Sam, thank you," Rodney snaps. "That's a very astute observation. Next time, why don't you try coming up with something that's actually helpful!"
"C'mon, Rodney, we need to see you smolder," Elizabeth says, gentling her voice as though coaxing an animal out of hiding.
"What do you mean, smolder? I don't smolder!" Rodney answers, his voice rising to a squeak and his eyes pinned to the glint off the camera in front of him.
"Sure you do," says a voice from just behind Rodney's left ear, instantly derailing his impending panic attack. Startled, he spins around, nearly losing his balance in the process, and thrashing around as he tries to prevent himself from falling into an ungainly heap on the floor.
"John!"
Catching Rodney by the upper arms, John quickly spins him back around to face the cameras. Rodney feels the heat of John pressing against his back, hands on Rodney's hips, holding him immobile.
"You smolder," John begins again, his voice dropping in register and gaining a rough edge, "when we're in bed together, my body holding you down, my dick sliding into you."
Rodney is still frantic, his breath coming in gasps. John tries another tactic.
"Or maybe it's before that: my hands touching you, running down your back, pushing you down onto the mattress, or against the wall, or down on the counter," Rodney's breath hitches, and John continues, "Fingers pushing inside you with no warning. That little catch-slide of too much impatience and not enough lube."
"Oh my God, John," Rodney says, voice wavering, but eyes glazed over by the picture that's being painted, "you can't do this here! There are people here!"
"I didn't ask your opinion, Rodney," John drawls. He tightens his hands on Rodney's hips, grinding more firmly against the jean-clad ass in front of him, causing Rodney to shudder and bite back a moan.
Rodney gives one last weak try, his face turning pink: "But what if they hear you?"
"All you need to focus on is me, Rodney. Trust me to take care of you. Nothing else matters."
Rodney opens his mouth again, but John bites down gently on the back of his neck, and he chokes on his reply.
"Right, Rodney?" John asks, his tongue flicking out to soothe the sting from the bite.
"R-right," Rodney stutters.
"So, you're down on the counter, squirming back against my fingers. I push you forward, pinning you against the cool tile, making you let out that little whimper I love so much."
Rodney is caught up in what John is saying and it takes him a moment to notice when John moves away. Rodney starts to turn, only to stop when John says, "Eyes front, Rodney." A thread of steel enters his voice as he asks, "Do I have to tell you again?"
Rodney's back instantly straightens, his eyes snapping to the front as he quickly shakes his head in the negative.
"Good boy," John says, in the voice Rodney loves, the voice he uses to tell Rodney that he is very, very pleased, and promises Rodney will be, too, if he only gives in to whatever John has in store.
John has never failed to keep that promise.
Rodney opens his mouth, only to quickly close it again before saying anything.
"You hear me opening drawers, pulling out the lube. Then I'm pushing into you, my hand pressing you down against the counter, pinning you there, forcing you to just lay there and take it. Just like you like it. Isn't that right?"
Rodney nods, his face flushed with arousal, all his attention focused on John.
"But you try. You try to push back, make me go faster, harder. You want that little bit of burn. You love knowing you'll feel it the next day. Then I'm all the way in, deep inside you. Right where I want to be. I stay there, as deep as I can, for just a moment. Then I start to move slowly - so slowly - and I finally stop pinning you down. You push back with what little leverage you have. You squirm against me until I can't help it, and I finally break."
Rodney lets out a whimper.
"I start moving faster and faster. Your fingers start scrabbling at the tile for purchase until I put my hands over yours, pressing my body against the length of your back. I kiss the back of your neck..."
John stumbles to a stop, face heating with embarrassment.
Rodney aims a smile toward John. You're such a romantic, it says.
"Until I turn my head and catch your lips with mine," Rodney says, taking up the thread. "I twine our fingers together, and that's what finally does it. That's what makes you lose control. Every time. That's what makes you come so, so deep inside me."
"--Cut!" Sam's voice rings across the room, causing identical glares to be focused on her from all sides. "Great, great, we're done here," Sam claps her hands together, "everyone out. Rodney, nice job. John, the set for tomorrow is set up next door." Sam quickly hustles everyone out of the room while John drags Rodney next door.
"John, where are we going? Why do we-- Ohhh. Bedroom set."
John shoves Rodney down onto the bed and slides up onto him. Rodney is more than ready, his hips thrusting up into John's as John finds his mouth, kissing him as he thrusts back, hard and needy and the rhythm is everything, everything John's voice had promised him earlier, only somewhat faster.
About fourteen seconds fast, in fact.
"Well," John says sheepishly, "that was less than stellar."
"Shut up, John," Rodney says, divesting them both of their clothes before pulling the blanket up over them.
Finally, John relaxes and molds himself to Rodney's side. "I nuzzle against the side of your throat," he says, matching action to words.
"Since when do you say things like 'nuzzle'?" asks an amused Rodney.
"Rodney?"
"Mmhmm?"
There's a moment of silence before John mumbles incoherently into Rodney's chest.
Rodney just smiles and kisses John's temple. "I love you, too, John."