Fic: Nothing Fills a Man When He's Hungry for Skin (NC-17) by neevebrody
Originally written as comment!porn - I wiped its face, smoothed a few wrinkles, tied a couple of loose shoelaces and thought I'd share. Dedicated to all those lucky fangirls sending in con reports.
Title: Nothing Fills a Man When He's Hungry for Skin
Author: neevebrody
Rating: NC-17 - PWP
Warnings: Frottage, language
Words: 1194
Legal: They are so not mine
Notes: Unbetaed, please let me know if you spot something.
Summary: Rodney leaves off his thought because John's rubbing harder now, making Rodney's fingers stutter over the keys. Slowing him down just enough for the import of the situation to send a shiver down his spine.
"You know, it hasn't escaped me… your rubbing your dick over my arm."
"Good. For a minute there, McKay, I thought I was boring you."
Rodney keeps his smile tight and where John can't see it. John's standing there next to him. Naked, and obviously a bit frisky. Rodney likes him that way, and why he doesn't take his eyes off the laptop screen. "Well, it does make it somewhat difficult to type."
"Then stop typing." John's voice has dropped, his breath starting to come a little quick, and that makes Rodney squirm in his seat.
"I've been promising Sam this report on the jumper repairs and modifications for over a week now. She may still be hot, but she can be a real tiger when she's mad… which, hey, now that I think of it…"
"Rodneey"
His fingers fly over the keyboard, trying hard to ignore the heat from John being so close. "I see how it is. You'd rather Sam berate me, bruise my masculinity, which, by the way, would have me sulking for days, all for your-"
"Nnnngghhh"
Rodney turns his head to the side, not looking at John, but not not looking at John's cock skimming his forearm. "Oh, now that's articulate. Anyway, I figured you'd be interested in this report too. The modifications alone…" Rodney leaves off his thought because John's rubbing harder now, making Rodney's fingers stutter over the keys. Slowing him down just enough for the import of the situation to send a shiver down his spine.
"Naked would be a good look for you, Rodney. Like now."
The skin around Rodney's collar burns in a ring as John lets the head of his cock slide across the flesh there.
"Please…" John drags the word across the air between them in a voice that drips five o'clock shadows and cheap cologne, and Rodney will admit to being helpless as a newborn against it.
"Okay, you know what, screw the report." Rodney stands and lets John walk him back to the bed, ducking so John can pull the shirt over his head while he works to get his pants undone. He kicks off his shoes, stretches out and lifts his hips so John can tug his pants off completely. They hit the floor somewhere with a chink and Rodney idly wonders what he had in the pockets.
Then, there's just the warmth and weight of John on top of him. He palms the sinewy curve of biceps and holds on as John straddles him and continues to steer his cock over thighs, belly, and chest. Rodney suspects John's quite fond of his skin. The way John touches him when they're alone, the way John's skin has to always touch Rodney's, like static cling, skin on skin, somewhere, anywhere. And Rodney's grateful for whatever magical powers his skin holds, because it's nice to feel that connection. A belonging, something so right it aches out loud.
John sits back, out of reach now, his eyes just a little glazed, and takes the hard shaft, working it back and forth over Rodney's nipples.
The moan is open-mouthed and rips the silence like torn canvas as the sensations overwhelm Rodney. His mouth waters as he watched the glistening little trail of precome, back and forth. It's the hottest thing he's seen since… well, whenever John last had those sinful lips of his wrapped around Rodney's cock.
His own breathing is getting tighter and more shallow, hard himself and aching to be touched. And he's just going to ask when John takes his thumb and presses the length of himself into the small cleft between Rodney's pecs.
"Yeah… 's good…" John works his hips up and back, and Rodney's mouth go dry with want, thinking of John moving inside of him that same way.
It makes Rodney twitch and, dammit, he can't even get a hand on himself, so he arches his own hips. "Jesus, John… a little help here?" he says, grunting in appreciation when John reaches back for him, jacking him loosely. "Oh, God yes." It's John's gun hand; it's all warmth and the play of calloused skin over the ridge and it makes Rodney feel as if he's floating above the bed.
He stares down where the friction warms the center of his chest, then runs a hand up John's forearm, following it with his eyes. "You like that?"
John just nods and gives an unintelligible non-verbal response before he switches off hands.
"Here, let me," Rodney offers, placing both hands over John's cock, covering him tip to base, pressing down gently while John continues to rut against him.
"God damn, Rodney, that's… fuck…" John finds Rodney's gaze. "Can you…" John licks his lips. "Your…" He reaches down and brushes fingers over one of Rodney's nipples. Rodney separates his hands just enough to stretch and thumb over the tight nubs himself, whimpering a little at the sharp lick of pleasure.
John's eyes go wide. "Don't stop… gonna come like this…" And the words shoot straight to Rodney's balls, warming them and making him push harder into John's hand. "Just need…" John leans down, and spits where Rodney's opened his hands.
"Oh yeah, that's not mildly disgusting… but, it is kinda hot." Rodney adds that last because now John's bucking faster through the slick, his cockhead peeking out of the tunnel Rodney's made, darkened with need and pushing all the way up now, and if Rodney can just raise his head, maybe he can…
He sticks out his tongue, meeting the hot flesh and seeking that sensitive spot. A little game of cat and mouse until he finds it on the next thrust, when John's groan and his hot grip bring Rodney closer and closer to going off. Rodney looks up and presses John to his chest a little tighter.
"Yeah, Rodney… gonna make me…"
Rodney lets his head fall back, his own need pounding in his ears, almost too much. The first shot catches him under the chin, the rest a warm flow over his hands, slick now and hot, and that's all he needs to push him over.
Breath coming in short, hard pants, Rodney draws his knees up and pumps into John's fist, closes his eyes and sees his spunk covering John's ass. He makes a mental note to strategically position his mirror the next time they do this, because, yeah, there will be a next time. With the last jerk of his hips, he manages to get his eyes open to see John balanced on one trembling arm. His mouth is still too far way to kiss, but Rodney reaches for him anyway.
John smiles and trades his sticky hand to lean on, cupping Rodney's cheek with the other. Sliding back, he leans closer, all sweet-stale breath and sweat and sex. Their mouths barely touch as they both struggle toward coherency, something Rodney feels is much overrated at the moment. The kisses across his jaw turn Rodney's head away like opposite poles. He welcomes the full effect of stubble on stubble and shivers as John zones in, lips grazing the shell of his ear.
"What modifications…"
Title: Nothing Fills a Man When He's Hungry for Skin
Author: neevebrody
Rating: NC-17 - PWP
Warnings: Frottage, language
Words: 1194
Legal: They are so not mine
Notes: Unbetaed, please let me know if you spot something.
Summary: Rodney leaves off his thought because John's rubbing harder now, making Rodney's fingers stutter over the keys. Slowing him down just enough for the import of the situation to send a shiver down his spine.
"You know, it hasn't escaped me… your rubbing your dick over my arm."
"Good. For a minute there, McKay, I thought I was boring you."
Rodney keeps his smile tight and where John can't see it. John's standing there next to him. Naked, and obviously a bit frisky. Rodney likes him that way, and why he doesn't take his eyes off the laptop screen. "Well, it does make it somewhat difficult to type."
"Then stop typing." John's voice has dropped, his breath starting to come a little quick, and that makes Rodney squirm in his seat.
"I've been promising Sam this report on the jumper repairs and modifications for over a week now. She may still be hot, but she can be a real tiger when she's mad… which, hey, now that I think of it…"
"Rodneey"
His fingers fly over the keyboard, trying hard to ignore the heat from John being so close. "I see how it is. You'd rather Sam berate me, bruise my masculinity, which, by the way, would have me sulking for days, all for your-"
"Nnnngghhh"
Rodney turns his head to the side, not looking at John, but not not looking at John's cock skimming his forearm. "Oh, now that's articulate. Anyway, I figured you'd be interested in this report too. The modifications alone…" Rodney leaves off his thought because John's rubbing harder now, making Rodney's fingers stutter over the keys. Slowing him down just enough for the import of the situation to send a shiver down his spine.
"Naked would be a good look for you, Rodney. Like now."
The skin around Rodney's collar burns in a ring as John lets the head of his cock slide across the flesh there.
"Please…" John drags the word across the air between them in a voice that drips five o'clock shadows and cheap cologne, and Rodney will admit to being helpless as a newborn against it.
"Okay, you know what, screw the report." Rodney stands and lets John walk him back to the bed, ducking so John can pull the shirt over his head while he works to get his pants undone. He kicks off his shoes, stretches out and lifts his hips so John can tug his pants off completely. They hit the floor somewhere with a chink and Rodney idly wonders what he had in the pockets.
Then, there's just the warmth and weight of John on top of him. He palms the sinewy curve of biceps and holds on as John straddles him and continues to steer his cock over thighs, belly, and chest. Rodney suspects John's quite fond of his skin. The way John touches him when they're alone, the way John's skin has to always touch Rodney's, like static cling, skin on skin, somewhere, anywhere. And Rodney's grateful for whatever magical powers his skin holds, because it's nice to feel that connection. A belonging, something so right it aches out loud.
John sits back, out of reach now, his eyes just a little glazed, and takes the hard shaft, working it back and forth over Rodney's nipples.
The moan is open-mouthed and rips the silence like torn canvas as the sensations overwhelm Rodney. His mouth waters as he watched the glistening little trail of precome, back and forth. It's the hottest thing he's seen since… well, whenever John last had those sinful lips of his wrapped around Rodney's cock.
His own breathing is getting tighter and more shallow, hard himself and aching to be touched. And he's just going to ask when John takes his thumb and presses the length of himself into the small cleft between Rodney's pecs.
"Yeah… 's good…" John works his hips up and back, and Rodney's mouth go dry with want, thinking of John moving inside of him that same way.
It makes Rodney twitch and, dammit, he can't even get a hand on himself, so he arches his own hips. "Jesus, John… a little help here?" he says, grunting in appreciation when John reaches back for him, jacking him loosely. "Oh, God yes." It's John's gun hand; it's all warmth and the play of calloused skin over the ridge and it makes Rodney feel as if he's floating above the bed.
He stares down where the friction warms the center of his chest, then runs a hand up John's forearm, following it with his eyes. "You like that?"
John just nods and gives an unintelligible non-verbal response before he switches off hands.
"Here, let me," Rodney offers, placing both hands over John's cock, covering him tip to base, pressing down gently while John continues to rut against him.
"God damn, Rodney, that's… fuck…" John finds Rodney's gaze. "Can you…" John licks his lips. "Your…" He reaches down and brushes fingers over one of Rodney's nipples. Rodney separates his hands just enough to stretch and thumb over the tight nubs himself, whimpering a little at the sharp lick of pleasure.
John's eyes go wide. "Don't stop… gonna come like this…" And the words shoot straight to Rodney's balls, warming them and making him push harder into John's hand. "Just need…" John leans down, and spits where Rodney's opened his hands.
"Oh yeah, that's not mildly disgusting… but, it is kinda hot." Rodney adds that last because now John's bucking faster through the slick, his cockhead peeking out of the tunnel Rodney's made, darkened with need and pushing all the way up now, and if Rodney can just raise his head, maybe he can…
He sticks out his tongue, meeting the hot flesh and seeking that sensitive spot. A little game of cat and mouse until he finds it on the next thrust, when John's groan and his hot grip bring Rodney closer and closer to going off. Rodney looks up and presses John to his chest a little tighter.
"Yeah, Rodney… gonna make me…"
Rodney lets his head fall back, his own need pounding in his ears, almost too much. The first shot catches him under the chin, the rest a warm flow over his hands, slick now and hot, and that's all he needs to push him over.
Breath coming in short, hard pants, Rodney draws his knees up and pumps into John's fist, closes his eyes and sees his spunk covering John's ass. He makes a mental note to strategically position his mirror the next time they do this, because, yeah, there will be a next time. With the last jerk of his hips, he manages to get his eyes open to see John balanced on one trembling arm. His mouth is still too far way to kiss, but Rodney reaches for him anyway.
John smiles and trades his sticky hand to lean on, cupping Rodney's cheek with the other. Sliding back, he leans closer, all sweet-stale breath and sweat and sex. Their mouths barely touch as they both struggle toward coherency, something Rodney feels is much overrated at the moment. The kisses across his jaw turn Rodney's head away like opposite poles. He welcomes the full effect of stubble on stubble and shivers as John zones in, lips grazing the shell of his ear.
"What modifications…"