sp23
in
mcsheplets
Challenge #17 Ficlet: Red Shirt (Rated R)
Title: Red Shirt
Author: Sandy (sp23)
Rating: R
Word Count: 246
Spoilers: None
Challenge #17 - We're Not Dead!
"He's dead, Jim," Rodney said in a voice weak from exhaustion.
"'m John," said a muffled voice from somewhere in the vicinity of his sternum.
"What?"
John's head moved a tiny fraction, lips sliding across sensitive skin causing Rodney to shiver just a little. "'m John. Not Jim," John murmured a little more clearly.
Rodney lifted his head a tiny bit and stared down at the mussed up thatch of dark hair that covered the head that was resting on his chest.
"Yes, thank you. I can never keep straight which of my many lovers has just given me a near death experience by orgasm." He let his head flop heavily back onto the pillow.
"That would be me," John said and gave Rodney the barest imitation of a squeeze with the arm slung limply across his stomach. Rodney could hear the languid drawl in John's voice, and he smiled. He loved post-coital John, all limp and lazy and contented. Rodney lifted his hand and ran his fingers through John's hair, enjoying the feel of the thick strands. John sighed, and though it seemed impossible, he relaxed even more, his body pressing heavily against Rodney.
Rodney closed his eyes and began to drift. He really needed to get up and clean off. He was sweaty and sticky and uncomfortably slick in places that shouldn't be slick, but, well, he was dead. John had killed him, and the dead didn't rise.
At least not for another hour.
Author: Sandy (sp23)
Rating: R
Word Count: 246
Spoilers: None
Challenge #17 - We're Not Dead!
"He's dead, Jim," Rodney said in a voice weak from exhaustion.
"'m John," said a muffled voice from somewhere in the vicinity of his sternum.
"What?"
John's head moved a tiny fraction, lips sliding across sensitive skin causing Rodney to shiver just a little. "'m John. Not Jim," John murmured a little more clearly.
Rodney lifted his head a tiny bit and stared down at the mussed up thatch of dark hair that covered the head that was resting on his chest.
"Yes, thank you. I can never keep straight which of my many lovers has just given me a near death experience by orgasm." He let his head flop heavily back onto the pillow.
"That would be me," John said and gave Rodney the barest imitation of a squeeze with the arm slung limply across his stomach. Rodney could hear the languid drawl in John's voice, and he smiled. He loved post-coital John, all limp and lazy and contented. Rodney lifted his hand and ran his fingers through John's hair, enjoying the feel of the thick strands. John sighed, and though it seemed impossible, he relaxed even more, his body pressing heavily against Rodney.
Rodney closed his eyes and began to drift. He really needed to get up and clean off. He was sweaty and sticky and uncomfortably slick in places that shouldn't be slick, but, well, he was dead. John had killed him, and the dead didn't rise.
At least not for another hour.