Boys Will Be Boys (PG-13)
I got all happy about lamardeuse's Domestic John and Rodney Festival and after a little inspiration from emrinalexander I delved into the wacky world of the McKay/Sheppard household.
Title: Boys Will Be Boys
Author: KimberlyFDR
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: John/Rodney
Word count: 1050
Disclaimer: I can only lay claim to them if I lived in John and Rodney's guest room. Since I do not, they don't do what I tell them to.
Summary: The McKay/Sheppard household is...special.
Boys Will Be Boys
By KimberlyFDR
“Get your clothes off right now!” John ordered from his position on the bed.
“I’m trying. Don’t you see me trying?” Rodney shouted, hopping across the floor while trying to remove his pants.
“Try faster,” John whined. “Or I’m starting without you.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t…” Rodney trailed off, catching sight of a very naked John playing with himself. “Stop that, that’s mine!”
“Then hurry up,” John ordered.
“Ha, done!” Rodney proclaimed, removing the last bit of clothing before falling onto the mattress. “Now you may begin.”
“Thank you so much for your permission,” John teased.
“Less talking,” Rodney said, plastering himself on top of John.
“Mmm, like that,” John murmured, letting Rodney take his time over every inch of skin.
“You like that, you know you do,” Rodney said, kissing his way down John’s stomach.
“Of course I…oh!” John broke off as Rodney blew a puff of air over his cock.
A lick, a tease, this was going to be so good. John could feel Rodney taking him into his mouth once, twice, and….then it stopped.
“Wait, where are the kids?” Rodney panted, raising his head.
“Wha…?” John’s mind was not working at full speed, but could you blame him?
“The kids!” Rodney shouted. “Where are they?”
“In their room the last time I saw them,” John groaned. “And do you seriously want to talk about this now?”
“How long ago?” Rodney demanded.
“I don’t know, Rodney. I’ve been a little busy to notice.” Rodney started getting off the bed, which was a very bad thing in John’s mind, and then he was putting on his pants, which was an even worse thing. “Wait, where are you going? You can’t just stop. We were in the middle of something here!”
“And we can get back to it once I’m sure they haven’t managed to kill each other, thank you very much,” Rodney told him, pulling on his t-shirt.
“It’s only been,” John checked the bedside clock before bolting up, “17 minutes. There haven’t been any alarms yet, so I guess they haven’t managed to burn down the city.”
“Not for lack of trying,” Rodney responded, slipping into his shoes.
“But,” John gestured at his little problem. Well, not little, call it big.
“Oh, for crying out loud,” Rodney mumbled before taking him in hand. Three quick jerks and it was over.
“I feel so special,” John said, frowning.
“Special later, saving kids from certain death now,” Rodney said before heading out of the bedroom.
John unhappily cleaned himself up and put on his clothes, a look of sadness on his face the whole time. When he came out into the living room, Rodney was frantic.
“They’re not in their room! They’re not anywhere here!”
“Calm down, Rodney, it’s not like they can get lost,” John sighed, tapping his earpiece. “Chuck, this is Sheppard. Can you tell me where the rugrats are?”
“I’m reading their lifesigns down in the laundry room, Colonel,” Chuck said.
“Thanks, Sheppard out.” He disengaged the connection. “See? Perfectly safe.”
“No, no, not perfectly safe,” Rodney told him, dragging John by the arm and out into the hallway. “Machines, potential danger, the ability to cripple this entire expedition with a screwdriver and their minds.”
“Wow, I never knew we were raising evil geniuses,” John smirked as they entered the transporter.
“Shut up!” Rodney’s eyes flashed with a mixture of fear and dread. “These are our kids you’re talking about. They could be doing anything!”
The transporter doors opened and they rushed towards the laundry room. Well, Rodney rushed, but since he had a firm grip on John’s arm and wouldn’t let go it was either join in the rushing or have his arm pulled out of the socket.
The room was quiet, too quiet. They looked around, trying to discern where their offspring could be hiding. On the last row of washers, they found Henry. More accurately, they found him in the front-loading washer, with it half-filled with water, and he was splashing around.
“What the…” Rodney yanked open the washer door, effectively drenching his pants and shoes in the process. “What are you doing in there?!”
“Swimming,” Henry announced, smiling up at his fathers.
“Swimming?!”
Rodney was going to have an aneurysm; John could see it. That little vein at the side of his forehead was going pulse, pulse, pulse.
“Henry, buddy,” John soothed. “How did you get into the washing machine?”
“Jeremy!”
“Jeremy put you in the washing machine?” John clarified.
“Uh huh. He wanted to see if I could swim and I told him I could, but he didn’t believe me, so I showed him.”
“And where, pray tell, is your brother now?” Rodney ground out.
“Up there,” Henry said, smiling as he pointed at the wall.
“Up…where?” John asked.
“Up here, Dad,” a voice called out, a voice belonging to their other lost child. “In the vent.”
“He’s…” Rodney looked up, shocked. “You’re in the air vent?”
“Yep,” Jeremy laughed.
“Jeremy, why are you in the air vent?” John asked.
“Exploring,” came the voice.
“Don’t you think it’s time to stop exploring now?” Rodney asked, voice bordering on shouting, but not yet, not yet.
“Can’t,” Jeremy said.
“Buddy, I think Papa would really like it if you got out of there right now,” John told him.
“Can’t,” Jeremy repeated. “Think I’m stuck.”
“I just…I never….ah!” Rodney was reduced to incoherent babbling.
John just sighed and tapped his earpiece. “This is Sheppard. I need some help down in the laundry room. Got someone stuck in the air vent.” He paused before disengaging. “And, no, it’s not me!”
With that, he ended the transmission and turned to Rodney, an attempt at a smile on his face.
"This is your DNA at work!” Okay, obviously Rodney found out how to talk again. “Our son obviously got the stupid gene. He thinks he's Batman! I wonder where he learned that.”
“Yes, Rodney.”
“And, oh, ‘let's see if my brother can swim in the Ancient washing machine’ because THAT'S normal!"
“Yes, Rodney.”
“Special time is effectively canceled,” Rodney warned, handing over Henry.
“Yes, Rodney,” John laughed, holding his wet son on his lap as they waited for their other son to be liberated. Because, really, what else could you do?
(This is cross-posted to my journal)
Title: Boys Will Be Boys
Author: KimberlyFDR
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: John/Rodney
Word count: 1050
Disclaimer: I can only lay claim to them if I lived in John and Rodney's guest room. Since I do not, they don't do what I tell them to.
Summary: The McKay/Sheppard household is...special.
Boys Will Be Boys
By KimberlyFDR
“Get your clothes off right now!” John ordered from his position on the bed.
“I’m trying. Don’t you see me trying?” Rodney shouted, hopping across the floor while trying to remove his pants.
“Try faster,” John whined. “Or I’m starting without you.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t…” Rodney trailed off, catching sight of a very naked John playing with himself. “Stop that, that’s mine!”
“Then hurry up,” John ordered.
“Ha, done!” Rodney proclaimed, removing the last bit of clothing before falling onto the mattress. “Now you may begin.”
“Thank you so much for your permission,” John teased.
“Less talking,” Rodney said, plastering himself on top of John.
“Mmm, like that,” John murmured, letting Rodney take his time over every inch of skin.
“You like that, you know you do,” Rodney said, kissing his way down John’s stomach.
“Of course I…oh!” John broke off as Rodney blew a puff of air over his cock.
A lick, a tease, this was going to be so good. John could feel Rodney taking him into his mouth once, twice, and….then it stopped.
“Wait, where are the kids?” Rodney panted, raising his head.
“Wha…?” John’s mind was not working at full speed, but could you blame him?
“The kids!” Rodney shouted. “Where are they?”
“In their room the last time I saw them,” John groaned. “And do you seriously want to talk about this now?”
“How long ago?” Rodney demanded.
“I don’t know, Rodney. I’ve been a little busy to notice.” Rodney started getting off the bed, which was a very bad thing in John’s mind, and then he was putting on his pants, which was an even worse thing. “Wait, where are you going? You can’t just stop. We were in the middle of something here!”
“And we can get back to it once I’m sure they haven’t managed to kill each other, thank you very much,” Rodney told him, pulling on his t-shirt.
“It’s only been,” John checked the bedside clock before bolting up, “17 minutes. There haven’t been any alarms yet, so I guess they haven’t managed to burn down the city.”
“Not for lack of trying,” Rodney responded, slipping into his shoes.
“But,” John gestured at his little problem. Well, not little, call it big.
“Oh, for crying out loud,” Rodney mumbled before taking him in hand. Three quick jerks and it was over.
“I feel so special,” John said, frowning.
“Special later, saving kids from certain death now,” Rodney said before heading out of the bedroom.
John unhappily cleaned himself up and put on his clothes, a look of sadness on his face the whole time. When he came out into the living room, Rodney was frantic.
“They’re not in their room! They’re not anywhere here!”
“Calm down, Rodney, it’s not like they can get lost,” John sighed, tapping his earpiece. “Chuck, this is Sheppard. Can you tell me where the rugrats are?”
“I’m reading their lifesigns down in the laundry room, Colonel,” Chuck said.
“Thanks, Sheppard out.” He disengaged the connection. “See? Perfectly safe.”
“No, no, not perfectly safe,” Rodney told him, dragging John by the arm and out into the hallway. “Machines, potential danger, the ability to cripple this entire expedition with a screwdriver and their minds.”
“Wow, I never knew we were raising evil geniuses,” John smirked as they entered the transporter.
“Shut up!” Rodney’s eyes flashed with a mixture of fear and dread. “These are our kids you’re talking about. They could be doing anything!”
The transporter doors opened and they rushed towards the laundry room. Well, Rodney rushed, but since he had a firm grip on John’s arm and wouldn’t let go it was either join in the rushing or have his arm pulled out of the socket.
The room was quiet, too quiet. They looked around, trying to discern where their offspring could be hiding. On the last row of washers, they found Henry. More accurately, they found him in the front-loading washer, with it half-filled with water, and he was splashing around.
“What the…” Rodney yanked open the washer door, effectively drenching his pants and shoes in the process. “What are you doing in there?!”
“Swimming,” Henry announced, smiling up at his fathers.
“Swimming?!”
Rodney was going to have an aneurysm; John could see it. That little vein at the side of his forehead was going pulse, pulse, pulse.
“Henry, buddy,” John soothed. “How did you get into the washing machine?”
“Jeremy!”
“Jeremy put you in the washing machine?” John clarified.
“Uh huh. He wanted to see if I could swim and I told him I could, but he didn’t believe me, so I showed him.”
“And where, pray tell, is your brother now?” Rodney ground out.
“Up there,” Henry said, smiling as he pointed at the wall.
“Up…where?” John asked.
“Up here, Dad,” a voice called out, a voice belonging to their other lost child. “In the vent.”
“He’s…” Rodney looked up, shocked. “You’re in the air vent?”
“Yep,” Jeremy laughed.
“Jeremy, why are you in the air vent?” John asked.
“Exploring,” came the voice.
“Don’t you think it’s time to stop exploring now?” Rodney asked, voice bordering on shouting, but not yet, not yet.
“Can’t,” Jeremy said.
“Buddy, I think Papa would really like it if you got out of there right now,” John told him.
“Can’t,” Jeremy repeated. “Think I’m stuck.”
“I just…I never….ah!” Rodney was reduced to incoherent babbling.
John just sighed and tapped his earpiece. “This is Sheppard. I need some help down in the laundry room. Got someone stuck in the air vent.” He paused before disengaging. “And, no, it’s not me!”
With that, he ended the transmission and turned to Rodney, an attempt at a smile on his face.
"This is your DNA at work!” Okay, obviously Rodney found out how to talk again. “Our son obviously got the stupid gene. He thinks he's Batman! I wonder where he learned that.”
“Yes, Rodney.”
“And, oh, ‘let's see if my brother can swim in the Ancient washing machine’ because THAT'S normal!"
“Yes, Rodney.”
“Special time is effectively canceled,” Rodney warned, handing over Henry.
“Yes, Rodney,” John laughed, holding his wet son on his lap as they waited for their other son to be liberated. Because, really, what else could you do?
(This is cross-posted to my journal)