new story.
Dr. McKay Makes Girls Go Wild
John/Rodney
R, 1676 words.
with thanks for the looksee by la_cspan & crimsonclad
Rodney has scratches on his shoulders and the small of his back, a couple tiny bruises, smaller than a dime, faint yellow and blue, and when he turns around there are a bunch of long, shallow scrapes across his chest.
"Jeez, McKay, what happened to you?" John says, whipping his own shirt off and digging through his locker for a clean one.
"What?" Rodney says. He's scraping irritably at the caked mud on his pants, not paying much attention.
"You're all--" John waves his hand vaguely at his chest, kind of wishing he hadn't said anything or mostly that he hadn't been looking that closely in the first place. None of the scratches look serious enough to be any of his business; even the deepest is just a clean-looking pink line, carved up over Rodney's shoulderblade to the base of his neck.
"Oh," Rodney says, glancing down. He looks honestly surprised, and then reluctant. "It's, uh--you know."
"No," John says, rolling his sleeves up carefully just to have something to do.
"Well, Katie," Rodney mumbles, and tugs his shirt down over his head, covering the scratches.
"Oh," John says, and then Rodney remembers he has something urgent to do and leaves. "Huh."
"Yeah," Ronon says.
"Is he helping her in the lab?" John says. That figures. "Is it really a good idea for him to be getting scratched by alien plants?"
"Um," Ronon says, leaning around his locker door. "I think he got the scratches from Dr. Brown."
"That's what he said," John says impatiently. "Don't you think Keller would--"
"Sheppard," Ronon says, almost gently. "He got the scratches from Dr. Brown. With her."
"Oh," John says.
*
So apparently Rodney McKay drives women crazy. He fucks Dr. Brown and she scrapes her fingers up his back and over his shoulders and digs her nails into his chest and that probably makes him do her harder. Maybe she's faking, but John thinks that's kind of unlikely.
It's entirely possible, John realizes, that McKay makes girls lose their shit. He's not even smug about it, he doesn't brag, John didn't even know Rodney was still fucking her, and that makes it worse, like he's so used to it he doesn't even know it's anything special.
No one's ever scratched John in bed except Marisa Spiegel, in 1998, when she scratched his eyeball by mistake because her nails were too long and John turned his head the wrong way. And Kathy Baker clocked him in the jaw with her knee once, also by accident. John likes sex, he does, and he doesn't think he's terrible at it, but it couldn't be said that he ever got anyone too excited. In fact, most of the time, he's just trying to live up to the hype, which gets to be kind of a hassle. Atlantis, where he gets to go for months at a time without fucking anyone at all and no one thinks it's weird, is mostly a relief.
*
Katie Brown has a huge bed, John knows that, he's heard it around, and Rodney's up in there giving it to her all the time, constantly, something like twice a week, and she claws at his back and probably makes a lot of noise, and John hopes she washes her goddamn hands beforehand.
*
John knows Rodney fucks guys, is the thing; it's not like he's as pathetic or delusional as he feels when he sees four fresh little nail scars dug into Rodney's bicep, right above his elbow. Rodney's been breaking up with Katie Brown in slow motion for six months, and John sometimes catches Rodney looking at him, kind of speculative and horny and affectionate. John knows how to suck a dick and isn't opposed to assfucking, and he can wait for Katie to finally get fed up, he can go for as long as it takes, but the scratches are new information. John didn't know he was going to have to be wild.
*
The whole thing is so fucking nerve-wracking that maybe he freaks out a little. Quietly, though. He really wishes they would stop banging each other, because John's getting more reluctant about McKay every day; he's starting to think he might wimp out entirely. He thinks about just kissing the guy, but can't make himself think it's okay to help Rodney cheat. He didn't much enjoy competing with Katie Brown before he found out about all the raunchy sex she and McKay are apparently having, and he likes it a hell of a lot less now.
*
Nothing is easier to obtain on Atlantis than soft-core porn. John watches Girls Gone Wild: Mardi Gras Invasion, Spring Break Sex Riot, Sexy Sorority Sweethearts (two volumes) and Wet T-Shirt Strip Off in a haze of feeling sorry for himself; mostly, it makes him decide that maybe he's completely gay now. Teyla's shirts make him nervous for a week. He tries scratching his leg while he's jerking off once; it hurts. Going wild seems painful, and maybe a little dangerous. He liked it better when he thought he and Rodney might just have bad sex.
*
"So, we should have sex," John says to Rodney when he gets him alone, ostensibly to give him another in a long series of puddlejumper flying lessons. He's tired of worrying about it. He doesn't even care if Rodney says no, he just wants it over with, and then he's thinking, if he's lucky, he'll get a crush on Ronon.
Rodney goes pink with surprise.
"Yes," he says. "I agree. That would be--good."
"Never mind," John says.
"What?"
"If you're going to be a dick about it--"
"All I said was yes," Rodney says. Rodney's smiling sideways at him, and flying sideways too. John leans over and corrects the course before they end up in the drink.
"You have to break up with Katie first," he says.
"We are broken up."
"You have sex all the time," John says.
"We have sex maybe once a week, and it's--you know, a mistake."
"That's pretty often for people who are broken up."
"It's stress relief," Rodney says, defensively.
"Eyes on the road," John says. "Eyes on the road. How is being a botanist stressful?"
"When you said 'we should have sex,' did you mean now?" Rodney says. "Is this some kind of kinky foreplay?"
"You're the one who's into that," John says.
"No I'm not," Rodney says. "Okay, well, maybe, but--"
"I'm not," John says, folding his arms. "Just so we're clear."
"Fine," Rodney says. "I would like to please have some of your boring completely unkinky sex, then."
"Fine," John says.
*
John always assumed they'd just suddenly start making out sometime and things would work themselves out from there, but Rodney doesn't even come by to see him for a week after they agree to have sex.
"Look, weren't we going to do that thing?" John says, on a mission, watching Rodney trying to fiddling with a console.
"I thought you were in charge of that," Rodney says.
"I don't want to be in charge," John says.
"Now we're getting someplace," Rodney says.
"What? I didn't mean--" John says, but Rodney just slides his fingers over a couple of flat buttons on the console and the lights in the cave system flick on, steady and green.
*
All John ever wanted in life is to have a nice, normal relationship; he doesn't want to tie anyone up or hurt anyone, he doesn't like to talk dirty, the month he dated a woman with a rape fantasy was the worst of his life, but it doesn't mean he doesn't like sex; he's just a traditional guy. Old-fashioned.
"Except for the gay thing," Rodney says, when he tries to explain.
"Don't be a smartass."
"Yeah, I can't help it," Rodney says.
"Well, it doesn't exactly get me in the mood," John says.
"Boo-hoo," Rodney says. He slides down the bed and hooks a couple fingers into John's waistband. "Wanna fuck me?"
"Yeah, but--"
"Yeah, but what," Rodney says. "You know, astrophysics is actually pretty stressful, so if you could stop teasing me with--"
"I don't like having sex with people I don't, um, care about," John says.
"Is this--are you really worried that I don't love you or something?"
"You don't love Katie Brown--"
"John--"
"And you guys have," John sighs. "You know--dirty. sex."
"We broke up," Rodney says.
"I know."
"So do you want to just hold hands, or--"
"I want to have sex, just--"
"I got it," Rodney says. He leans forward and kisses John quickly, almost on the cheek, and then more squarely on the mouth. "Nothing dirty."
"Mm-hmm," John says.
"Or nasty," Rodney mumbles, and pulls at John's shirt until John takes it off. They make out for a while, with Rodney's hand in his pants, which is great, but Rodney's still talking about it when he's pushing John's pants down and leaning up to lick the head of his cock. "Or filthy," he says softly, sliding his tongue up John's cock, and John gives up and shoves in, face-fucks him, feels immediately contrite, except that Rodney just kneels up and takes it, one hand closing tightly over John's hip, and it feels so fucking good that John does it a few more times for good measure, while Rodney moans and presses his face against John's stomach.
"Fuck," Rodney says, when John shoves inside him.
"You wanted to be on your back," John says.
"I do," Rodney says, sounding simultaneously breathless and annoyed. "Will you just do me--"
"Okay, okay, okay," John says, punctuating with thrusts, and Rodney groans and slides around underneath him and grabs at his shoulders, and John holds him tighter, curls down to kiss his thigh. Rodney comes first and gets come on John's chin and shoulder and forehead. It's nothing like John thought it would be and exactly what he wanted all at once.
Turns out, Rodney scratches the shit out of his chest; it looks pretty cool the next day.
John/Rodney
R, 1676 words.
with thanks for the looksee by la_cspan & crimsonclad
Rodney has scratches on his shoulders and the small of his back, a couple tiny bruises, smaller than a dime, faint yellow and blue, and when he turns around there are a bunch of long, shallow scrapes across his chest.
"Jeez, McKay, what happened to you?" John says, whipping his own shirt off and digging through his locker for a clean one.
"What?" Rodney says. He's scraping irritably at the caked mud on his pants, not paying much attention.
"You're all--" John waves his hand vaguely at his chest, kind of wishing he hadn't said anything or mostly that he hadn't been looking that closely in the first place. None of the scratches look serious enough to be any of his business; even the deepest is just a clean-looking pink line, carved up over Rodney's shoulderblade to the base of his neck.
"Oh," Rodney says, glancing down. He looks honestly surprised, and then reluctant. "It's, uh--you know."
"No," John says, rolling his sleeves up carefully just to have something to do.
"Well, Katie," Rodney mumbles, and tugs his shirt down over his head, covering the scratches.
"Oh," John says, and then Rodney remembers he has something urgent to do and leaves. "Huh."
"Yeah," Ronon says.
"Is he helping her in the lab?" John says. That figures. "Is it really a good idea for him to be getting scratched by alien plants?"
"Um," Ronon says, leaning around his locker door. "I think he got the scratches from Dr. Brown."
"That's what he said," John says impatiently. "Don't you think Keller would--"
"Sheppard," Ronon says, almost gently. "He got the scratches from Dr. Brown. With her."
"Oh," John says.
*
So apparently Rodney McKay drives women crazy. He fucks Dr. Brown and she scrapes her fingers up his back and over his shoulders and digs her nails into his chest and that probably makes him do her harder. Maybe she's faking, but John thinks that's kind of unlikely.
It's entirely possible, John realizes, that McKay makes girls lose their shit. He's not even smug about it, he doesn't brag, John didn't even know Rodney was still fucking her, and that makes it worse, like he's so used to it he doesn't even know it's anything special.
No one's ever scratched John in bed except Marisa Spiegel, in 1998, when she scratched his eyeball by mistake because her nails were too long and John turned his head the wrong way. And Kathy Baker clocked him in the jaw with her knee once, also by accident. John likes sex, he does, and he doesn't think he's terrible at it, but it couldn't be said that he ever got anyone too excited. In fact, most of the time, he's just trying to live up to the hype, which gets to be kind of a hassle. Atlantis, where he gets to go for months at a time without fucking anyone at all and no one thinks it's weird, is mostly a relief.
*
Katie Brown has a huge bed, John knows that, he's heard it around, and Rodney's up in there giving it to her all the time, constantly, something like twice a week, and she claws at his back and probably makes a lot of noise, and John hopes she washes her goddamn hands beforehand.
*
John knows Rodney fucks guys, is the thing; it's not like he's as pathetic or delusional as he feels when he sees four fresh little nail scars dug into Rodney's bicep, right above his elbow. Rodney's been breaking up with Katie Brown in slow motion for six months, and John sometimes catches Rodney looking at him, kind of speculative and horny and affectionate. John knows how to suck a dick and isn't opposed to assfucking, and he can wait for Katie to finally get fed up, he can go for as long as it takes, but the scratches are new information. John didn't know he was going to have to be wild.
*
The whole thing is so fucking nerve-wracking that maybe he freaks out a little. Quietly, though. He really wishes they would stop banging each other, because John's getting more reluctant about McKay every day; he's starting to think he might wimp out entirely. He thinks about just kissing the guy, but can't make himself think it's okay to help Rodney cheat. He didn't much enjoy competing with Katie Brown before he found out about all the raunchy sex she and McKay are apparently having, and he likes it a hell of a lot less now.
*
Nothing is easier to obtain on Atlantis than soft-core porn. John watches Girls Gone Wild: Mardi Gras Invasion, Spring Break Sex Riot, Sexy Sorority Sweethearts (two volumes) and Wet T-Shirt Strip Off in a haze of feeling sorry for himself; mostly, it makes him decide that maybe he's completely gay now. Teyla's shirts make him nervous for a week. He tries scratching his leg while he's jerking off once; it hurts. Going wild seems painful, and maybe a little dangerous. He liked it better when he thought he and Rodney might just have bad sex.
*
"So, we should have sex," John says to Rodney when he gets him alone, ostensibly to give him another in a long series of puddlejumper flying lessons. He's tired of worrying about it. He doesn't even care if Rodney says no, he just wants it over with, and then he's thinking, if he's lucky, he'll get a crush on Ronon.
Rodney goes pink with surprise.
"Yes," he says. "I agree. That would be--good."
"Never mind," John says.
"What?"
"If you're going to be a dick about it--"
"All I said was yes," Rodney says. Rodney's smiling sideways at him, and flying sideways too. John leans over and corrects the course before they end up in the drink.
"You have to break up with Katie first," he says.
"We are broken up."
"You have sex all the time," John says.
"We have sex maybe once a week, and it's--you know, a mistake."
"That's pretty often for people who are broken up."
"It's stress relief," Rodney says, defensively.
"Eyes on the road," John says. "Eyes on the road. How is being a botanist stressful?"
"When you said 'we should have sex,' did you mean now?" Rodney says. "Is this some kind of kinky foreplay?"
"You're the one who's into that," John says.
"No I'm not," Rodney says. "Okay, well, maybe, but--"
"I'm not," John says, folding his arms. "Just so we're clear."
"Fine," Rodney says. "I would like to please have some of your boring completely unkinky sex, then."
"Fine," John says.
*
John always assumed they'd just suddenly start making out sometime and things would work themselves out from there, but Rodney doesn't even come by to see him for a week after they agree to have sex.
"Look, weren't we going to do that thing?" John says, on a mission, watching Rodney trying to fiddling with a console.
"I thought you were in charge of that," Rodney says.
"I don't want to be in charge," John says.
"Now we're getting someplace," Rodney says.
"What? I didn't mean--" John says, but Rodney just slides his fingers over a couple of flat buttons on the console and the lights in the cave system flick on, steady and green.
*
All John ever wanted in life is to have a nice, normal relationship; he doesn't want to tie anyone up or hurt anyone, he doesn't like to talk dirty, the month he dated a woman with a rape fantasy was the worst of his life, but it doesn't mean he doesn't like sex; he's just a traditional guy. Old-fashioned.
"Except for the gay thing," Rodney says, when he tries to explain.
"Don't be a smartass."
"Yeah, I can't help it," Rodney says.
"Well, it doesn't exactly get me in the mood," John says.
"Boo-hoo," Rodney says. He slides down the bed and hooks a couple fingers into John's waistband. "Wanna fuck me?"
"Yeah, but--"
"Yeah, but what," Rodney says. "You know, astrophysics is actually pretty stressful, so if you could stop teasing me with--"
"I don't like having sex with people I don't, um, care about," John says.
"Is this--are you really worried that I don't love you or something?"
"You don't love Katie Brown--"
"John--"
"And you guys have," John sighs. "You know--dirty. sex."
"We broke up," Rodney says.
"I know."
"So do you want to just hold hands, or--"
"I want to have sex, just--"
"I got it," Rodney says. He leans forward and kisses John quickly, almost on the cheek, and then more squarely on the mouth. "Nothing dirty."
"Mm-hmm," John says.
"Or nasty," Rodney mumbles, and pulls at John's shirt until John takes it off. They make out for a while, with Rodney's hand in his pants, which is great, but Rodney's still talking about it when he's pushing John's pants down and leaning up to lick the head of his cock. "Or filthy," he says softly, sliding his tongue up John's cock, and John gives up and shoves in, face-fucks him, feels immediately contrite, except that Rodney just kneels up and takes it, one hand closing tightly over John's hip, and it feels so fucking good that John does it a few more times for good measure, while Rodney moans and presses his face against John's stomach.
"Fuck," Rodney says, when John shoves inside him.
"You wanted to be on your back," John says.
"I do," Rodney says, sounding simultaneously breathless and annoyed. "Will you just do me--"
"Okay, okay, okay," John says, punctuating with thrusts, and Rodney groans and slides around underneath him and grabs at his shoulders, and John holds him tighter, curls down to kiss his thigh. Rodney comes first and gets come on John's chin and shoulder and forehead. It's nothing like John thought it would be and exactly what he wanted all at once.
Turns out, Rodney scratches the shit out of his chest; it looks pretty cool the next day.