SGA fic: Abilene
Title: Abilene
Fandom: SGA
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Short little AU, set in the Wild West.
Author's Note: Written for svmadelyn's Cuff 'Em, Vamp 'Em, or Just Make 'Em Come Already Kink and Cliché Multi-Fandom Challenge. Prompts used: Sex in the Dark, Something with gags!, and Western scenarios and fetishization (cowboy gear; campfire and trail scenes; horses; gunslingers, lawmen, card sharps, etc; train robberies and bank hold-ups; posses; saloon brawls)
“This is a hold-up,” said the man striding in the front door, his voice muffled by the bandanna covering most of his face.
Rodney surveyed the interior of the bank-one teller, terrified; two middle-aged ladies, likewise cowering in fear; and an elderly man standing in line who apparently hadn’t heard a thing. That left just one robber, and his guns were still holstered-but then there were two more masked figures walking inside, and they were carrying shotguns.
The first man walked over to the teller’s counter and leaned against it. “Safe. Where is it? Side door?”
The teller glanced at the side door, and apparently the man took that as an affirmation, because he continued. “Combination?”
The teller blanched, and shook his head.
The man sighed, and lightning-fast spun one of his guns out of its holster and placed it on the counter, hand resting on top.
“Now, I don’t want to shoot you,” the man said, fingers tracing the barrel of the gun. “But I will. I’ll start with your kneecaps, and travel in an upwardly manner. Are we clear?”
The teller swallowed. “I don’t-I don’t know the combination, the manager has it, he’s not here-”
The man sighed. “Bag up all the cash you have out here. We’ll blow the safe.”
“Are you stupid?” Rodney asked, and then his mouth snapped shut. Shit, he thought, shit shit shit shit shit...
“I’m sorry, what was that?” asked the robber.
Rodney thought, Well, here we go, and stammered, “You can’t-you can’t possibly expect to blow that safe and not kill us all. What are you going to use, dynamite? Do you have any idea how volatile dynamite is?”
“And you have a better idea?” asked the robber, his eyes crinkled at the corners, and Rodney could have sworn that he was smiling.
“As a matter of fact, I do,” Rodney said. “It’s just a matter of-do you have any idea how safes work? No, I expect you wouldn’t, would you, just blowing them up all the time, you wouldn’t care about the mechanics-”
Rodney stopped as the man sighed, fingers once again tracing the gun. “Sorry,” Rodney said. “I design safes for a living. I probably designed the one in this bank. I know how they work. I can get it open, just don’t shoot anybody.”
The man nodded. “How long?”
Rodney stared. What? “How long what?”
“How long to open the safe?” the man prodded.
“Oh,” Rodney said, puzzled. “No time. Less than a minute, probably.”
“But what if it’s not one of your safes?” the man said.
“What does it matter?” Rodney asked, annoyed. “It’s a safe, I’ll open it, you’ll get your damn money. It might take a little more time if I’m unfamiliar with the machinery, but that’s highly unlikely-”
“Fine, come with me,” the man said, motioning with his gun. As Rodney walked over to him, the robber called out, “Give us ten minutes. And make sure they stay quiet.”
Then there was an arm on Rodney’s, and he was pulled through the side door, roughly, and thrown up against the wall. The robber closed the door and pulled off his bandana.
“Oh my God, what are you, insane?” Rodney hissed. “‘What if it’s not one of your safes?’” What’s wrong with you, John?”
“Maybe I just like blowing things up, Rodney,” John whispered. “So what do you think about the safe?”
“This safe? I could open it in my sleep. Thirty seconds and we’re done,” Rodney whispered, and bent down to examine the combination, but John pulled him away and pushed him into the wall.
“What are you doing?” Rodney whispered. “What happened to the plan?”
Then John bent down, lips close enough to brush against Rodney’s, and whispered, “We have ten minutes, Rodney, forget the plan for now,” before leaning in to kiss Rodney.
“Aren’t you tired of,” John whispered, trailing kisses along Rodney’s neck, “waiting for some quick moment or fucking in some field after a job?”
“Oh right,” Rodney cut in, “because ten minutes in a bank closet is so much better than that.”
“More like nine now, Rodney,” John whispered, fingers tugging at the buttons on Rodney’s waistcoat.
“Leave it on, it’s too hard to button anyway,” Rodney whispered, and John’s fingers trailed lower, unbuttoning Rodney’s trousers and wrapping around his cock, tugging once, twice...
Rodney moaned, and John stopped, staring at Rodney, both annoyed and amused. “You have to be quiet, Rodney,” he hissed, “or all the nice people out in the bank lobby will know exactly what we’re doing.”
Rodney nodded, swallowed, and nodded again. And then John grinned, and whispered, “You know, I think I can help you with that.”
John pulled the bandana that he’d worn earlier out of his pocket, and twisted. Leaning in, he kissed Rodney roughly, and then pulled quickly back, pushing part of the bandana into Rodney’s mouth and tying the two ends behind his head.
As Rodney’s eyebrows shot up indignantly, John shrugged, whispering, “It’s for your own good.”
John pushed Rodney around so that he was facing the wall, and then pulled down Rodney’s trousers. Rodney could feel John’s fingers fumbling and then one finger pushed inside, slick with something, and just as Rodney began to wonder what it was, John murmured, “Don’t ask what this is, just, ah, enjoy it,” then John was rubbing the spot inside of him that would’ve made Rodney moan out loud if he’d been able.
Rodney leaned against the wall, feeling the uncomfortable stretch as John added more fingers, feeling the warmth and fullness of it, Rodney’s hands braced on the wall’s wooden planks.
There was no light in the room, just little pinpricks of haze filtering in through the slatted walls, landing like stars all over. John’s fingers pulled out and Rodney heard a rustle of clothing, and then he felt heat as John pushed in, all of him, until they were completely pressed together.
Then John pulled out and thrust back in, sharply, building up a rhythm, and it hurt and Rodney’s eyes clenched shut but then it was so good as John rubbed that spot inside him over and over. Rodney opened his eyes, staring at the floor, his shadow and John’s intermingled on the wall, as John fucked him.
John was getting faster, and Rodney bit into the bandana, biting off another moan, as John’s hand reached around and began stroking Rodney’s cock. John kept thrusting, and Rodney could hear the swish of clothing as they moved, John’s panting breaths, and then John came, and the hand on Rodney’s cock faltered a minute and then stroked, harder, and Rodney was coming all over John’s hand and the wall.
John pulled out, and reached a hand into one of Rodney’s pockets; Rodney could hear him buttoning his trousers up, and then John was wiping at Rodney, cleaning him, and then John dropped Rodney’s handkerchief on the floor and untied the bandana from around Rodney’s neck.
Rodney turned around. “So that was unexpected,” he murmured.
John nodded, smiling. “I think we have a couple of minutes left. Think you can crack that safe?”
“Like clockwork,” Rodney whispered, and crouched down, ear to the safe as he began turning the lock.
A few tumbler clicks later and the safe opened. The two men began stuffing the money inside into bank bags. “We have to find a new disguise for me,” Rodney whispered, tying off a bag. “It was a good plan, but they’re going to catch on sooner or later. We got lucky with the bank maintenance plans, true, but some teller in some bank’s going to realize that the maintenance man who checked out his safe is the same guy who’s helping the bad guys open it up.”
John shrugged. “That’s why we’re taking a break after tomorrow’s job.”
Rodney looked up. “That’s new-”
“I know a place we can go, somewhere we can burn off some time. I’ll teach you how to shoot,” John said, loading the bags of money into a large sack.
Rodney nodded slowly, almost smiling. “I’ll teach you...”
“You don’t have to teach me anything. Just be there,” John whispered. “Okay, we’re finished here. Play it safe with the sheriff-point him east or west, doesn’t matter. The maintenance on the Abilene safe’s scheduled for late tonight-we’ll get them stopped, you know where to meet us?”
Rodney nodded. “Good. Be careful.”
John walked to the door, sack of money slung over his shoulder. “John, I-” Rodney whispered, but John waved a hand, shaking his head.
“See you in Abilene, Rodney,” he whispered, and walked out the door.
Fandom: SGA
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Short little AU, set in the Wild West.
Author's Note: Written for svmadelyn's Cuff 'Em, Vamp 'Em, or Just Make 'Em Come Already Kink and Cliché Multi-Fandom Challenge. Prompts used: Sex in the Dark, Something with gags!, and Western scenarios and fetishization (cowboy gear; campfire and trail scenes; horses; gunslingers, lawmen, card sharps, etc; train robberies and bank hold-ups; posses; saloon brawls)
“This is a hold-up,” said the man striding in the front door, his voice muffled by the bandanna covering most of his face.
Rodney surveyed the interior of the bank-one teller, terrified; two middle-aged ladies, likewise cowering in fear; and an elderly man standing in line who apparently hadn’t heard a thing. That left just one robber, and his guns were still holstered-but then there were two more masked figures walking inside, and they were carrying shotguns.
The first man walked over to the teller’s counter and leaned against it. “Safe. Where is it? Side door?”
The teller glanced at the side door, and apparently the man took that as an affirmation, because he continued. “Combination?”
The teller blanched, and shook his head.
The man sighed, and lightning-fast spun one of his guns out of its holster and placed it on the counter, hand resting on top.
“Now, I don’t want to shoot you,” the man said, fingers tracing the barrel of the gun. “But I will. I’ll start with your kneecaps, and travel in an upwardly manner. Are we clear?”
The teller swallowed. “I don’t-I don’t know the combination, the manager has it, he’s not here-”
The man sighed. “Bag up all the cash you have out here. We’ll blow the safe.”
“Are you stupid?” Rodney asked, and then his mouth snapped shut. Shit, he thought, shit shit shit shit shit...
“I’m sorry, what was that?” asked the robber.
Rodney thought, Well, here we go, and stammered, “You can’t-you can’t possibly expect to blow that safe and not kill us all. What are you going to use, dynamite? Do you have any idea how volatile dynamite is?”
“And you have a better idea?” asked the robber, his eyes crinkled at the corners, and Rodney could have sworn that he was smiling.
“As a matter of fact, I do,” Rodney said. “It’s just a matter of-do you have any idea how safes work? No, I expect you wouldn’t, would you, just blowing them up all the time, you wouldn’t care about the mechanics-”
Rodney stopped as the man sighed, fingers once again tracing the gun. “Sorry,” Rodney said. “I design safes for a living. I probably designed the one in this bank. I know how they work. I can get it open, just don’t shoot anybody.”
The man nodded. “How long?”
Rodney stared. What? “How long what?”
“How long to open the safe?” the man prodded.
“Oh,” Rodney said, puzzled. “No time. Less than a minute, probably.”
“But what if it’s not one of your safes?” the man said.
“What does it matter?” Rodney asked, annoyed. “It’s a safe, I’ll open it, you’ll get your damn money. It might take a little more time if I’m unfamiliar with the machinery, but that’s highly unlikely-”
“Fine, come with me,” the man said, motioning with his gun. As Rodney walked over to him, the robber called out, “Give us ten minutes. And make sure they stay quiet.”
Then there was an arm on Rodney’s, and he was pulled through the side door, roughly, and thrown up against the wall. The robber closed the door and pulled off his bandana.
“Oh my God, what are you, insane?” Rodney hissed. “‘What if it’s not one of your safes?’” What’s wrong with you, John?”
“Maybe I just like blowing things up, Rodney,” John whispered. “So what do you think about the safe?”
“This safe? I could open it in my sleep. Thirty seconds and we’re done,” Rodney whispered, and bent down to examine the combination, but John pulled him away and pushed him into the wall.
“What are you doing?” Rodney whispered. “What happened to the plan?”
Then John bent down, lips close enough to brush against Rodney’s, and whispered, “We have ten minutes, Rodney, forget the plan for now,” before leaning in to kiss Rodney.
“Aren’t you tired of,” John whispered, trailing kisses along Rodney’s neck, “waiting for some quick moment or fucking in some field after a job?”
“Oh right,” Rodney cut in, “because ten minutes in a bank closet is so much better than that.”
“More like nine now, Rodney,” John whispered, fingers tugging at the buttons on Rodney’s waistcoat.
“Leave it on, it’s too hard to button anyway,” Rodney whispered, and John’s fingers trailed lower, unbuttoning Rodney’s trousers and wrapping around his cock, tugging once, twice...
Rodney moaned, and John stopped, staring at Rodney, both annoyed and amused. “You have to be quiet, Rodney,” he hissed, “or all the nice people out in the bank lobby will know exactly what we’re doing.”
Rodney nodded, swallowed, and nodded again. And then John grinned, and whispered, “You know, I think I can help you with that.”
John pulled the bandana that he’d worn earlier out of his pocket, and twisted. Leaning in, he kissed Rodney roughly, and then pulled quickly back, pushing part of the bandana into Rodney’s mouth and tying the two ends behind his head.
As Rodney’s eyebrows shot up indignantly, John shrugged, whispering, “It’s for your own good.”
John pushed Rodney around so that he was facing the wall, and then pulled down Rodney’s trousers. Rodney could feel John’s fingers fumbling and then one finger pushed inside, slick with something, and just as Rodney began to wonder what it was, John murmured, “Don’t ask what this is, just, ah, enjoy it,” then John was rubbing the spot inside of him that would’ve made Rodney moan out loud if he’d been able.
Rodney leaned against the wall, feeling the uncomfortable stretch as John added more fingers, feeling the warmth and fullness of it, Rodney’s hands braced on the wall’s wooden planks.
There was no light in the room, just little pinpricks of haze filtering in through the slatted walls, landing like stars all over. John’s fingers pulled out and Rodney heard a rustle of clothing, and then he felt heat as John pushed in, all of him, until they were completely pressed together.
Then John pulled out and thrust back in, sharply, building up a rhythm, and it hurt and Rodney’s eyes clenched shut but then it was so good as John rubbed that spot inside him over and over. Rodney opened his eyes, staring at the floor, his shadow and John’s intermingled on the wall, as John fucked him.
John was getting faster, and Rodney bit into the bandana, biting off another moan, as John’s hand reached around and began stroking Rodney’s cock. John kept thrusting, and Rodney could hear the swish of clothing as they moved, John’s panting breaths, and then John came, and the hand on Rodney’s cock faltered a minute and then stroked, harder, and Rodney was coming all over John’s hand and the wall.
John pulled out, and reached a hand into one of Rodney’s pockets; Rodney could hear him buttoning his trousers up, and then John was wiping at Rodney, cleaning him, and then John dropped Rodney’s handkerchief on the floor and untied the bandana from around Rodney’s neck.
Rodney turned around. “So that was unexpected,” he murmured.
John nodded, smiling. “I think we have a couple of minutes left. Think you can crack that safe?”
“Like clockwork,” Rodney whispered, and crouched down, ear to the safe as he began turning the lock.
A few tumbler clicks later and the safe opened. The two men began stuffing the money inside into bank bags. “We have to find a new disguise for me,” Rodney whispered, tying off a bag. “It was a good plan, but they’re going to catch on sooner or later. We got lucky with the bank maintenance plans, true, but some teller in some bank’s going to realize that the maintenance man who checked out his safe is the same guy who’s helping the bad guys open it up.”
John shrugged. “That’s why we’re taking a break after tomorrow’s job.”
Rodney looked up. “That’s new-”
“I know a place we can go, somewhere we can burn off some time. I’ll teach you how to shoot,” John said, loading the bags of money into a large sack.
Rodney nodded slowly, almost smiling. “I’ll teach you...”
“You don’t have to teach me anything. Just be there,” John whispered. “Okay, we’re finished here. Play it safe with the sheriff-point him east or west, doesn’t matter. The maintenance on the Abilene safe’s scheduled for late tonight-we’ll get them stopped, you know where to meet us?”
Rodney nodded. “Good. Be careful.”
John walked to the door, sack of money slung over his shoulder. “John, I-” Rodney whispered, but John waved a hand, shaking his head.
“See you in Abilene, Rodney,” he whispered, and walked out the door.