Fic: Ode to an Eminently Kissable Ass, by John Sheppard
Rating: Let's call it a hard R
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard (natch!)
Length: 1291 words
Summary: Rodney's ass is high and round and if John were given to artful phrasing, he might even refer to it as heart-shaped.
Warnings: Well, as you may gather from the title/icon/rating, this fic involves Rodney's bum in some detail. And it *is* McSmooch, after all -- so yeah. That's the warning.
Ode to an Eminently Kissable Ass, by John Sheppard
Rodney’s not given to profanity and his insults tend more towards a barrage of slights towards one’s intelligence than the more common phrases like “son of a bitch” or “bastard” or “asshole”.
So John’s surprised when, one day, he says something a little smarmy to Rodney and Rodney comes back with: “Oh, kiss my ass, Sheppard.”
Granted, Rodney’s lack of originality probably has a lot to do with where they are and what they’ve just been doing.
Rodney is currently facedown on his rumpled bed, the broad lovely pale expanse of his back rising and falling rather quickly, pink toes curled up at the end of his long sturdy legs and soft uncallused feet. The hair on Rodney’s thighs fades out abruptly about halfway to his ass, as though to better highlight the feature to which Rodney has just sleepily referred.
John himself is sitting back on his haunches, not a little winded, but feeling smug that he’s apparently stripped Rodney of his usual wit. Normally he would fall down onto the mattress next to Rodney and settle in for a nice long post-coital nap, but Rodney’s comment has drawn his mind into focus again, and all John’s focus is currently fixed on Rodney’s eminently kissable ass.
It’s high and round and if John were given to artful phrasing, he might even refer to it as heart-shaped. It really is, complete with a sweet apex at the small of Rodney’s back, curving perfectly out and down around two almost sinfully ample cheeks. John’s never had a thing for a guy’s ass before; usually the sole purpose of an ass is not so much aesthetic as sensual, but John has to admit that he’s spent a lot of time thinking about how good Rodney’s ass looks - even before he ever saw it naked in his bed. It’s almost feminine, or it would be if it weren’t for the wide frame of shoulders above, the narrow hips, the strong thighs that support it.
“What the hell are you doing?” says Rodney, getting up on one elbow and looking back over his shoulder at John.
John lifts his head up and blinks, only now noticing that he has in fact acted on his impulse: he’s just finished pressing an affectionate kiss to the round of one of Rodney’s buttocks - not quite the crest of the muscle, but rather just a bit further down, where flesh curves under and arches down to meet a thigh.
“You said,” says John, defensive, “you said to kiss it.”
“It was a figure of speech!” says Rodney, eyebrows flying high.
“Well, you should be more specific next time,” says John with a frown, but he has to pull his mouth out of the expression again when he dips back down and places a second kiss on the other cheek.
“Hey!” squeaks Rodney, trying to sound indignant and failing.
John follows up with a little nip this time, which has the desired effect of making Rodney subside into his pillow with a muffled gasp.
John hasn’t actually allowed himself this luxury before. It’s not that they’ve been particularly unadventurous in bed, or single-minded and orgasm-oriented; it’s just that with their crazy intergalactic superhero lives, this moment is a rarity. They have a few hours, they have Rodney’s bed, they have each other in the half-light provided by the dim bedside lamp. John gets a little obsessed with chasing the soft line that divides shadow from light across Rodney’s ass, tracing it with his mouth, holding Rodney steady with one hand on his hip.
Rodney for his part isn’t even offering token resistance. He’s dropped into pleased languor under John’s lips, uttering soft breaths and occasionally pushing his hips into the mattress, just a little.
John eases over until he’s kneeling between Rodney’s legs, edging them a bit further apart as he does so, and from this position he can shift down the bed a little, get a little more access to Rodney’s rear end, and god - it *is* beautiful. John shocks himself a little even thinking the word, but it’s true. He slides his palms up over Rodney’s thighs and crooks his thumbs around the inner curves of each cheek.
“Christ,” says Rodney, tensing a little, lifting his head to look. “Are you sure? I mean, we just -”
John knows perfectly well what they just did, and even if he didn’t, he could read the story right here in the crease of Rodney’s ass: a little rosy, with a slight fine sheen of lubricant visible before John leans in and presses a kiss, once.
“Ha,” gasps Rodney, breathless, “I never really got the appeal but, god, you should see how you look right now.”
John can picture it perfectly: the dark shock of his hair just visible to Rodney, the arches of his eyebrows, and the rest of John’s face hidden behind the rise of Rodney’s ass, bowing in to taste and kiss in the most private of places.
“Okay,” agrees Rodney unsteadily, and collapses back down again.
John takes his time; having never done this before, he wants to see what the possibilities are, the potential. Rodney doesn’t react much when John just shifts the flat of his tongue across, but he almost concusses John with the reflexive arch when John tries slipping the tip of his tongue inside. “Yeah?” says John, pleased, and does it again, being sure to hold Rodney down this time, buzzing and dizzy with weird perverse delight - he is *enjoying* this, and so is Rodney. It’s their shared indulgence, and it’s as secret and close as the soft thrust of John’s tongue in Rodney’s ass.
John’s hard again and he’s pretty sure Rodney is too, judging by the way he’s trying and trying to get some friction against the sheets. With one last fond lick, John gets up on his knees again, stumbles and falls forward, and lands drunkenly with his body pressed flat over Rodney’s, John’s cock almost accidentally sliding home along the cleft of Rodney’s saliva-wet ass. Rodney clenches around him, and it feels fantastic, so John reaches down and helps out a little, squeezing the two halves of Rodney’s ass together on either side of his cock. Rodney gets the idea right away, lifting his ass up into the next clumsy thrust. John rewards him by getting a hand under Rodney’s hips and around his cock, pressed between the weight of Rodney’s body and the bed. It’s uncomfortable and awkward as hell, and heavy and sweaty besides, but they’re both desperate enough to make it good enough, Rodney rubbing up into John’s cock and down into John’s hand while John tries and fails to set some sort of pace.
Rodney comes first, stilling and - god - shimmying his hips under John’s, and John pulls back with a wet slick hand to get up on his haunches and finish himself off, coming pretty impressively in long hot pulses onto Rodney’s perfect heart-shaped ass.
Now John really *does* want nothing more than to collapse onto the bed and sleep for a million years, but Rodney is making noises about the wet spot and John’s come all over his skin and John is forced to get up and help Rodney change the sheets, both of them naked and a little wobbly-legged because they are really getting too old for this shit. Finally there is a washcloth and then a clean freshly-made bed to climb into, and Rodney does his usual faceplant into the pillow and drops into snoring within seconds. John edges closer and tucks himself around Rodney: thigh over thighs, chin hooked over shoulder, one arm draped diagonally down Rodney’s back to land, almost haphazardly, with his open palm curved over Rodney’s right buttock.
A/N: After I made the icon I used for this post I noticed that the little chalk arrow is sort of going in an unfortunate trajectory. Please note it's not meant to be launching into or through Rodney's bum. *facepalms*
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard (natch!)
Length: 1291 words
Summary: Rodney's ass is high and round and if John were given to artful phrasing, he might even refer to it as heart-shaped.
Warnings: Well, as you may gather from the title/icon/rating, this fic involves Rodney's bum in some detail. And it *is* McSmooch, after all -- so yeah. That's the warning.
Ode to an Eminently Kissable Ass, by John Sheppard
Rodney’s not given to profanity and his insults tend more towards a barrage of slights towards one’s intelligence than the more common phrases like “son of a bitch” or “bastard” or “asshole”.
So John’s surprised when, one day, he says something a little smarmy to Rodney and Rodney comes back with: “Oh, kiss my ass, Sheppard.”
Granted, Rodney’s lack of originality probably has a lot to do with where they are and what they’ve just been doing.
Rodney is currently facedown on his rumpled bed, the broad lovely pale expanse of his back rising and falling rather quickly, pink toes curled up at the end of his long sturdy legs and soft uncallused feet. The hair on Rodney’s thighs fades out abruptly about halfway to his ass, as though to better highlight the feature to which Rodney has just sleepily referred.
John himself is sitting back on his haunches, not a little winded, but feeling smug that he’s apparently stripped Rodney of his usual wit. Normally he would fall down onto the mattress next to Rodney and settle in for a nice long post-coital nap, but Rodney’s comment has drawn his mind into focus again, and all John’s focus is currently fixed on Rodney’s eminently kissable ass.
It’s high and round and if John were given to artful phrasing, he might even refer to it as heart-shaped. It really is, complete with a sweet apex at the small of Rodney’s back, curving perfectly out and down around two almost sinfully ample cheeks. John’s never had a thing for a guy’s ass before; usually the sole purpose of an ass is not so much aesthetic as sensual, but John has to admit that he’s spent a lot of time thinking about how good Rodney’s ass looks - even before he ever saw it naked in his bed. It’s almost feminine, or it would be if it weren’t for the wide frame of shoulders above, the narrow hips, the strong thighs that support it.
“What the hell are you doing?” says Rodney, getting up on one elbow and looking back over his shoulder at John.
John lifts his head up and blinks, only now noticing that he has in fact acted on his impulse: he’s just finished pressing an affectionate kiss to the round of one of Rodney’s buttocks - not quite the crest of the muscle, but rather just a bit further down, where flesh curves under and arches down to meet a thigh.
“You said,” says John, defensive, “you said to kiss it.”
“It was a figure of speech!” says Rodney, eyebrows flying high.
“Well, you should be more specific next time,” says John with a frown, but he has to pull his mouth out of the expression again when he dips back down and places a second kiss on the other cheek.
“Hey!” squeaks Rodney, trying to sound indignant and failing.
John follows up with a little nip this time, which has the desired effect of making Rodney subside into his pillow with a muffled gasp.
John hasn’t actually allowed himself this luxury before. It’s not that they’ve been particularly unadventurous in bed, or single-minded and orgasm-oriented; it’s just that with their crazy intergalactic superhero lives, this moment is a rarity. They have a few hours, they have Rodney’s bed, they have each other in the half-light provided by the dim bedside lamp. John gets a little obsessed with chasing the soft line that divides shadow from light across Rodney’s ass, tracing it with his mouth, holding Rodney steady with one hand on his hip.
Rodney for his part isn’t even offering token resistance. He’s dropped into pleased languor under John’s lips, uttering soft breaths and occasionally pushing his hips into the mattress, just a little.
John eases over until he’s kneeling between Rodney’s legs, edging them a bit further apart as he does so, and from this position he can shift down the bed a little, get a little more access to Rodney’s rear end, and god - it *is* beautiful. John shocks himself a little even thinking the word, but it’s true. He slides his palms up over Rodney’s thighs and crooks his thumbs around the inner curves of each cheek.
“Christ,” says Rodney, tensing a little, lifting his head to look. “Are you sure? I mean, we just -”
John knows perfectly well what they just did, and even if he didn’t, he could read the story right here in the crease of Rodney’s ass: a little rosy, with a slight fine sheen of lubricant visible before John leans in and presses a kiss, once.
“Ha,” gasps Rodney, breathless, “I never really got the appeal but, god, you should see how you look right now.”
John can picture it perfectly: the dark shock of his hair just visible to Rodney, the arches of his eyebrows, and the rest of John’s face hidden behind the rise of Rodney’s ass, bowing in to taste and kiss in the most private of places.
“Okay,” agrees Rodney unsteadily, and collapses back down again.
John takes his time; having never done this before, he wants to see what the possibilities are, the potential. Rodney doesn’t react much when John just shifts the flat of his tongue across, but he almost concusses John with the reflexive arch when John tries slipping the tip of his tongue inside. “Yeah?” says John, pleased, and does it again, being sure to hold Rodney down this time, buzzing and dizzy with weird perverse delight - he is *enjoying* this, and so is Rodney. It’s their shared indulgence, and it’s as secret and close as the soft thrust of John’s tongue in Rodney’s ass.
John’s hard again and he’s pretty sure Rodney is too, judging by the way he’s trying and trying to get some friction against the sheets. With one last fond lick, John gets up on his knees again, stumbles and falls forward, and lands drunkenly with his body pressed flat over Rodney’s, John’s cock almost accidentally sliding home along the cleft of Rodney’s saliva-wet ass. Rodney clenches around him, and it feels fantastic, so John reaches down and helps out a little, squeezing the two halves of Rodney’s ass together on either side of his cock. Rodney gets the idea right away, lifting his ass up into the next clumsy thrust. John rewards him by getting a hand under Rodney’s hips and around his cock, pressed between the weight of Rodney’s body and the bed. It’s uncomfortable and awkward as hell, and heavy and sweaty besides, but they’re both desperate enough to make it good enough, Rodney rubbing up into John’s cock and down into John’s hand while John tries and fails to set some sort of pace.
Rodney comes first, stilling and - god - shimmying his hips under John’s, and John pulls back with a wet slick hand to get up on his haunches and finish himself off, coming pretty impressively in long hot pulses onto Rodney’s perfect heart-shaped ass.
Now John really *does* want nothing more than to collapse onto the bed and sleep for a million years, but Rodney is making noises about the wet spot and John’s come all over his skin and John is forced to get up and help Rodney change the sheets, both of them naked and a little wobbly-legged because they are really getting too old for this shit. Finally there is a washcloth and then a clean freshly-made bed to climb into, and Rodney does his usual faceplant into the pillow and drops into snoring within seconds. John edges closer and tucks himself around Rodney: thigh over thighs, chin hooked over shoulder, one arm draped diagonally down Rodney’s back to land, almost haphazardly, with his open palm curved over Rodney’s right buttock.
A/N: After I made the icon I used for this post I noticed that the little chalk arrow is sort of going in an unfortunate trajectory. Please note it's not meant to be launching into or through Rodney's bum. *facepalms*