COLD HANDS, WARM HEART -- Amnesty Challenge
Title: COLD HANDS, WARM HEART
Pairing: McShep
Rating: NC-17
Notes: Started this for the City Exploration Challenge and obviously missed the deadline. Then it kept getting longer. And longer... Thanks to danvers for the quick and dirty beta.
Disclaimer: To be honest, I'm not entirely sure who SGA belongs to. I suspect that MGM is in there somewhere and the SiFi channel and possible Gekko but who knows. They're not mine. I'm making nothing off this.
COLD HANDS, WARM HEART
"Do you know what the biggest problem is, when you're exploring a city of mostly empty rooms?"
"That the rooms are empty?"
"I wasn't looking for an answer, Lieutenant."
"You paused."
Rodney turned just far enough to glare at Ford. "For effect. I paused for effect. An effect I might point out, that has been ruined."
Ford shrugged. "Sorry."
"No, you're not," Rodney snorted, facing front again.
"He's right," Ford confided to Teyla. "I'm not."
Teyla ducked her head to hide a smile and John figured he'd better get involved because, as amusing as the exchange was, he didn't need Ford poking at an already cranky astrophysicist. Not when they had another hour of exploring to go before they could begin heading back to the less empty bits of Atlantis.
"So tell us, Dr. McKay..." He flashed Rodney a charming smile. "...what is the biggest problem when you're exploring a city of mostly empty rooms?"
"Context," Rodney snapped, refusing to be charmed. "We can assume that this area, for instance..." A random wave more or less took in the two stories of window along one side of the broad corridor. "...is a public concourse but for all we know it could be a well lit dance studio."
"Yeah, somehow I doubt..."
"Context." He cut Ford's protest off. "We don't have any."
"We can make assumptions," John began.
"Do you know what they say about assumptions, Major? If you assume you make an ass of you and of me. Mostly you," he added huffily as they came to the end of the corridor and a pair of doors. "Let's go right. I want to find out what's behind this wall we've been following." He laid his hand against the door pad, muttered something under his breath when it failed to respond, and stepped back. "Major Sheppard."
John raised a cautioning hand before Ford could speak. The lieutenant was wearing his 'are you going to let him get away with that' face which, expressed, would only lead to Rodney going off on his 'arbitrary military authority' rant and, frankly, John didn't feel like getting caught in the cross fire. He preferred to pick his battles and since, at the moment, he didn't care which way they went, he had no need to waste any good will he may have built up by exercising the tenuous authority he maintained over the civilian scientist.
The door pad responded sluggishly to his touch.
"I don't believe it." Rodney practically applauded with sardonic glee. "We've actually found a part of Atlantis that doesn't love you and leap to do your bidding."
"Were you not saying earlier, Dr. McKay, that this part of the city may have been on the damaged section of the power grid?"
He nodded at Teyla, obviously pleased she'd been listening. "I was saying exactly that, yes." Then he grinned. "But I like my explanation better."
"My feelings are definitely hurt." John stepped back as the door began to finally open, hands going to his weapon, pleased to see Rodney move to one side as Teyla stepped forward and Ford dropped into a defensive position. In a city this size there had to be at least one room that wasn't going to love any of them and when they got there, his team was going to be ready for it.
It wasn't this room.
The lights came part way up as he stepped over the threshold just barely illuminating the pair of long stainless steel counters running down the center of the room. Those counters were empty but he could make out small machines of some kind on all of the identical --although not freestanding -- counters along the walls.
"Another lab."
"Are you sure?" he asked as Rodney pushed past him.
"Please; am I sure? It's not like this is the first lab we've found. Look." He pointed. "There's even sinks along the left hand wall although given the way the lights aren't working, I doubt there's water. It's probably some kind of botany research station given all that sunlight we just came out of."
"Maybe it's an under lit dance studio?" Ford offered from the doorway.
"Not likely," Rodney snorted, "these counters would be in the way and... Hey! Another door." The door was in a corner of the back wall. It looked surprisingly solid for Atlantis and, like the main door to room, didn't respond to his touch. "Major."
John muttered a terse, "Stay here," to Ford and Teyla, then crossed the room to Rodney's side. "If these rooms are on the damaged power grid, maybe we should just map them and move on; out of this area, not move further into it."
"We need to know how far the damage extends." Rodney folded his arms and stared pointedly at the door controls. "You're just feeling less manly because your power over the city has been diminished."
"Less manly?"
Rodney nodded. "And a little threatened. Afraid you're losing your touch and Atlantis is no longer responding to you like it did. The honeymoon's over, Major."
He could feel Ford grinning all the way across the room. "If I open this door, will you shut-up?"
"I might."
"Good enough." This door was even less responsive than the last. He felt an instant's fear that maybe Atlantis wasn't responding to him anymore and then told himself not to be an idiot. It was just the damaged power grid.
The next room was about half the size of room they were in and the lights didn't respond as Rodney stepped over the threshold.
"Major?"
"I'm on it," he sighed as he followed.
The lights were brighter than the outer room, that was something, although it might have been just that it was all reflective surfaces - walls, ceiling, and floor were all gleaming metal. There was no other door.
"Just a storeroom," Rodney observed bitterly. "An empty storeroom containing nothing of value because it contains nothing at all."
"At least there's no nasty surprises." He could have used a nasty surprise. A small one anyway, just to break up the boredom.
The door slammed closed.
"Hey!" John ran for the door, pounding on it with the side of his fist and accomplishing nothing but hurting his hand. "Not what I meant!"
"Major?"
"Oh no." He stepped away, Rodney'ss tone dropping both hands to the security of his P-90. "That had nothing to do with me."
"Why?" The scientist's eyes narrowed. "What were you thinking?"
"That I could use... but not, you know, like this." Releasing his weapon, he folded his arms. "I did not think the door closed."
"I believe you."
"That's too ba... Wait. You believe me?"
"Oh it has nothing to do with your innate trustworthiness, Major. We're in a low power area, remember? You barely got the door to open with a ritual laying on of hands; there's no way you could have just thought at it and... " Rodney paused and scowled at the door. "Well, this isn't good. There's no controls on this side."
"Major Sheppard?"
"Lieutenant Ford." John cocked his head slightly toward his headset as he spoke. He knew it didn't matter but he couldn't seem to break the habit. "Good to hear your voice."
"Uh, yes sir. Are you two okay?"
"We're fine but we can't open the door from this side so Dr. McKay will once again be talking you through the basics of hot-wiring Atlantian technology."
Rodney rolled his eyes. "Lieutenant, start by taking the cover off the control panel to the right of the door."
"No, really? It's off," he added before either man could respond to the initial sarcasm.
"There should be three blue crystals at the top."
"There's three crystals but they're not blue. They're kind of grayish beige."
"Like taupe?"
John mouthed the word at him as Ford repeated it. Rodney waved them both off. "Never mind. Just clip your PDA to the middle crystal." There was a long pause. Rodney sighed and folded his arms. "I know you have a cable, Lieutenant. Every team member has one as part of their Boy Scout explorers pack."
"Hey, don't be making fun of the Boy Scouts!"
John sighed in turn. "Lieutenant..."
"Sorry, sir. Okay, I'm attaching the cable and holy SHIT!"
"Lieutenant!" Pounding on the door continued to accomplish nothing but it made him feel vaguely better so he took another swing.
"The damned crystal drained my PDA!"
"Is it blue?" Rodney demanded, brows drawn into what John liked to think of as his solving the impossible face.
"No."
"Damn. If it was blue," he added to John, "Teyla could use her PDA to get it open."
"I don't think she's carrying one."
"Well, that's just..." He raised a hand, stopping himself. "Never mind. Lieutenant, you're going to have to go back to my lab and get about half a dozen charged... wait, never mind that either. Get Zelenka. Tell him what's happened and that he needs to come get us out. That way you won't have to worry your pretty head about the equipment."
"My what?"
This time John raised a hand. "Play nice, Rodney," he murmured. "None of this is Ford's fault. Go get Dr. Zelenka, Lieutenant," he continued raising his voice. "Teyla, go with Ford. We're perfectly safe in here and even if we weren't there's nothing you can do so there's no point in hanging around listening to us die in agony."
"Major?"
"That was a joke."
"And not a very funny one," Rodney added pointedly.
"If you are sure, Major."
"I'm sure, Teyla. Go."
After a fairly useless circuit of the room - useless in that it was empty, not very large, and neither factor had changed in the last five minutes -- John returned and found Rodney squinting at the door, his brows nearly touching. It looked as if he was trying to activate his X-Ray vision and the thought of Dr. Rodney McKay in a pair of tights with a big red 'S' on his chest made him smile. Preoccupied with thinking of Rodney's ass in tights, he almost missed his question.
"How long do you think it'll take them to get back?"
How long had it taken them to get this far. Double it. Add about fifteen minutes for explanations and another ten to gather equipment. Subtract at least an hour as Ford would be hauling ass both ways. "Three hours at the absolute minimum - and a lot of that depends on how fast Dr. Zelenka is willing to move."
"Tell him that the last pot of coffee's ready to pour and he'll move fast enough," Rodney muttered sliding out of his pack and leaning it against the wall. "So you figure our air will last three hours? Because I've never really relished the thought of suffocating."
"I'd have thought you'd be more concerned about starving."
"I have power bars in my pack, enough for three hours anyway." He folded his arms. "Unfortunately, I didn't think to pack oxygen."
"It's always the way. You forget to pack the one thing you're going to need. I remember this one time, me and two buddies got a flip over to Italy and none of us remembered to pack..."
"Major."
"Even if this room was airtight, the air would easily last us three hours."
The blue eyes widened into an expression of indignant betrayal, all but accusing John of holding out on him. "Even if?"
"There's a drain in the middle of the floor. It's hard to spot unless you're right on top of it," he shrugged out of his pack and leaned it against the wall by Rodney's. Frowned, laid his hand on the burnished metal as Rodney responded.
"What kind of storeroom has a drain in the middle of the floor?"
"I don’t think it's a storeroom."
"Of course if it's a storeroom for a botany lab then there'd be plants in here and plants need water and water needs a drain," Rodney mused, peering down at the six inch circular grate.
"I think it's a refrigerator."
He straightened. "Don't be ridiculous, that'..."
When John lifted his hand, the shiny print lasted only a moment before frosting over.
"Oh that's just wonderful; we're going to freeze to death!"
***
"I thought Canadian's liked the cold."
"Sure we do, because we all live in igloos and ski year round. How can you possibly make geographic culture generalizations when there's 9,922,330 square kilometers of geography involved?"
Was there a correct answer to that question, John wondered as he shifted his weight from one ass cheek to another. Tired of standing, they'd emptied both packs then flattened and stacked them to make a mostly insulated place for them to sit. It wasn't very comfortable and it was barely big enough for two grown men to sit back to back so that only butts and boots touched the floor. Rodney's ass was, of course, taking up more than half the space and the snippy reply to John's protest had been that he'd never complained about the size of said ass before.
Okay, it was a great ass.
But it was still taking up more than half the available space.
"I, personally, hate the cold," Rodney announced as though that should come as a surprise to a man who'd been refrigerated with him for - John checked his watch - almost an hour. "It takes a minimal drop in temperature for me to get chilled."
"Well, that explains the nipples."
"You don't get to talk about my nipples." John braced himself against the sudden increase of pressure against his back as Rodney tried to push him off the packs. "You're the one who's refusing to get your ass over here and warm me up."
"My ass is as close to you as it's going to get. If it was any closer, it would be on your lap."
"Okay."
He sighed. "Rodney, we're on duty. And if you'll remember, we agreed when we started..." What the hell had they started?
"Fooling around?"
"Thank you. We agreed when we started fooling around that there'd be no fooling around on duty."
"That was before we got locked in 10,000 year old refrigerator and I think that's a text book reason for shared body heat if I ever heard one."
He had a point. He also had more meat on him than John did and was radiating heat and, quite frankly, there were a few other body parts John would like warmed up more than his back. He checked his watch again. Even if Ford and Teyla insisted on Dr. Zelenka making his best possible speed, they'd be continuing to chill for almost two hours. "Okay, fine."
"Fine? Just like that?"
"What? You're surprised that your cognizant -- not to mention continuous -- argument finally won me over?"
John could actually hear Rodney frown. "I expected to win the argument; your capitulation just seems a little sudden, that's all."
"Yeah, well, all of a sudden shared body heated seemed like a good idea," he said as he stood. "But just body heat. No bodily fluids."
Rodney stared up at him incredulously as he shifted around to centre himself on the packs.
"Yeah, I didn't believe that either," John muttered. Frowned. "You don't seriously want me on your lap?"
"Why not?"
"Let's start with me being a grown man and an officer and sitting on your lap seems a little..."
"Gay?"
Okay, if Rodney started accusing him of internalized homophobia again, he was going throw a queen-sized hissy fit that should settle the subject once and for all. "Girly."
"So figure out a manly way to do it and then get your ass down here. I'm freezing!"
It was a lot colder now there was distance between them. Sure. Manly. He could do that. John bent and picked out two thermal food packs from their gear.
"Those are empty."
"I know." He threw one to either side of Rodney's hips and knelt, settling his ass back onto Rodney's thighs. "I didn't think you'd want my whole weight on your lap."
Half a smile. "You're a considerate man for an insane flyboy content to get by on looks, charm, and hair."
"Thank you." Strong fingers clutched at said hair and, pulling almost hard enough to hurt, drew his head down. That almost went straight to John's groin and he latched onto Rodney's mouth with a need that surprised him considering that, until a moment ago, he'd been the one saying no. Amazing the difference a moment makes, he managed to think before getting lost in sensation.
"And you," he gasped when he could talk again, "are one hell of a kisser for an arrogant brainiac trying to disprove that whole polite Canadian stereotype."
Rodney's agreement came back a little muffled as he was currently sucking and biting along the angle of John's jaw.
He threw his head back to give that talented mouth easier access and canted his hips forward so he could rub his ass over Rodney's crotch, feeling the other man's cock harden under the motion. "Someone's glad to see me."
"My sidearm."
"Liar."
"No, your leg is driving my sidearm into my hip. Hang on a minute."
Now he was here, John had no intention of leaving and the squirming required to access the holster straps was almost as much fun as the rubbing had been. By the time Rodney's 9 mil was in the pile with the rest of their gear, John had warmed up nicely and his cock was feeling uncomfortably confined.
A patch of warmth against his throat and a chill on his belly as long fingers got his belt and then his pants undone. The scream was completely spontaneous and grew louder as his bare ass hit the floor of the refrigerator after he'd thrown himself backwards off Rodney's lap and away from his icicle fingers.
Rodney was staring at him with stunned disbelief. "What?"
"Your fingers are freezing," he snapped as he grabbed his pants, stopping their fall at mid thigh, and rolled up onto his feet. "And now my ass is frozen and my balls are so far up they're sitting on my shoulder and... oh god..."
"These balls?" Rodney asked moving his head back far enough to look up the length of John's torso. "Or did you have another set I'm not aware of?"
In his understandable hurry to get his bare backside off the floor, he'd essentially shoved his equally bare frontside in Rodney's face. Rodney had responded by sucking one testicle and then the other into his mouth. The heat of his mouth followed by cold air against damp skin was surprisingly arousing. That is, the cold part was surprising. He'd been finding Rodney's mouth arousing for a while now.
"Because if you happen to have a spare set," Rodney continued as he adjusted his position and knelt on the packs, "I can think of a couple of people in this city with no balls at all who could use a donation. No forget that, thinking of your balls and Kavanaugh simultaneously takes me to a place I have less than no interest in going. A frightening place."
"Rodney..." Warm-cold-warm-cold. John lost track of what he was about to say. He suspected it might have been 'shut up' but since Rodney had returned to mouthing his balls, he didn’t much care. When Rodney pulled back, lips wet, John started to drop down to his knees but strong hands on his hips stopped him.
"No, no, that way leads to rubbing and mutual handling and rubbing plus mutual handling leads to mess. We can't make a mess. We have nothing to clean up with. Stay standing."
All the words made sense on their own but looking down on his cock pointing right at Rodney's face plus all that warm air from the talking ghosting across the head, he was having trouble understanding the sentences. "What?"
Rodney's answer was non verbal. Which was a nice change for a couple of different reasons. John dropped his pants, letting them pool to drop around his knees, so he could hold onto Rodney's shoulders with one hand and hold jacket and shirt out of the way with the other and watch his cock slide glistening in and out between Rodney's lips.
Rodney was not hypoglycemic. Since the condition was likely to have an impact on the team, John had asked Dr. Beckett about it early on.
"If you ask me," Carson had sighed. "He's just got an oral fixation. In times of stress he wants something in his mouth."
Let's hear it for oral fixations. Some guys sucked cock because it would get them sucked off in turn. Rodney McKay sucked cock because he enjoyed it. And he was good at it. Damned good. No, not just good John amended, tightening his grip on the broad shoulder and fighting to keep his knees from buckling as a strong tongue dipped into the slit lapped around the glans and applied exactly the right amount of pressure on the ridge just under the head. The man is an artist. A fucking ar... holy God damn...
The tension of staying upright under his own power plus the incredible sensations coming from his cock had him gasping, the pressure building until it escaped in a series of breathy groans. The small part of his brain still functioning knew Rodney was going to call them girly later; right now, he didn't care. His hips were bucking back and forth under hindbrain commands; he had no conscious control of the movement. Rodney took the hint, matched the rhythm and increased the suction.
His knees buckled as he came but Rodney kept him standing until he'd sucked him dry and only then was he permitted to crumble to the floor.
Not the floor exactly, Rodney sat back on his heels and John ended up straddling his knees, pants bunched up under his crotch, leaning back so he could rest his head on Rodney's shoulder while he caught his breath. He could feel his heart slamming against his ribs.
"I think my brain melted," he panted. "That was fucking fantastic."
"Of course it was." His expression was probably setting new parameters for smug but John didn't have the energy to check. "I have always been considered extraordinarily skilled in fellatio."
"Always?"
"For certain broad values of always, yeah. I remember this one time, my thesis advisor and I went out to this dinky little observatory north of Toronto, barely far enough away to avoid the light pollution. I blew him while he tried to find some obscure star cluster I had no interest in. He said I sucked the stars into focus. It was winter then too."
John had been letting Rodney's words wash over him - because that was what you did around Rodney most of the time - but the last bit caught his attention. Winter. "We're in a refrigerator."
"Yes, we are."
"My ass is freezing."
"I think I can take care of that."
The heat in Rodney's voice pulled John into motion. He leaned back far enough to see the other man's face and wasn't surprised to find the blue eyes narrowed and gleaming. The things those eyes were promising hit him like a blow to the chest. His breathing began to speed up and he could feel the tension building again.
"On your feet."
Contrary to the opinion of several of his CO's, he was perfectly capable of following orders.
Rodney handed over the empty thermal packs. "One of these in each hand and brace yourself against the wall."
It was an awkward shuffle with his pants around his ankles but somehow that added to his arousal. He didn't examine his reaction too closely. They were trapped in a 10,000 year old refrigerator in the Ancient's city in the Pegasus Galaxy; it wasn't like the situation was ever going to come up again so why not just go with it.
And speaking of coming up again...
"Must be the puppy chow," he murmured as slick fingers parted the cheeks of his ass. "What...?"
"Hand lotion. Goat's milk and vitamin E."
Well, that wasn't the weirdest thing he'd had up his ass over the last little while. He was just about at the point where consequences be damned, next mid-tech planet they hit, he was trading for some lube.
"I don’t need much," he gasped, closing his eyes and pushing back on Rodney's finger.
"I know."
He liked hearing that hitch in Rodney's voice. Liked knowing it was there because of him. Liked that Rodney took him at his word and the next thing he felt was the blunt head of the other man's cock. He started to push back but a strong grip on his hips stopped him.
"Oh no, not this time. You always want to rush this."
John glared back over his shoulder. "You're always too God-damned slow."
Rodney's lip curled. "I like to savor the moment."
He wanted to move, had to move, but Rodney held him immobile - forcing him to accept the slow stretch and the sensation of being filled. Probably his imagination but slower felt bigger. Yeah. Had to be his imagination. And he wasn't going to mention it to Rodney anyway. Frost built up against the wall by his face as he sucked in huge lungfuls of cold air and exhaled as slowly as he was able. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he felt the heat of Rodney's belly cup his ass.
"Jesus. Your ass really is freezing."
"Rodney, please..." It sounded more like begging than he'd intended.
Fortunately, Rodney's self control only went so far and to John's relief he started to move. After a moment of gentle rocking back and forth, he made an inarticulate sound and the pounding started in earnest. A moment after that, he adjusted his angle just a fraction and the fireworks started going off. Weirdly, considering how much noise he made about everything else, Rodney was usually quiet during sex. It wasn't long before his rhythm faltered, his grip tightened hard enough to bruise, and he buried himself ball's deep one final time in John's ass.
John locked his knees and managed to keep them both from hitting the floor, Rodney's body a warm weight on his back.
"Major Sheppard?
As Rodney straightened and slid out of him, he tapped his radio on. "Lieutenant Ford." Okay, that sounded a little rough. He cleared his throat and fought to steady his breathing. "You made good time."
"Yes, sir. We hurried a bit. You're locked in a refrigerator with Dr. McKay. Dr. Weir was afraid there might be justifiable homicide."
"Hey!"
John grinned at Rodney's indignant protest. It lost a little something when they were both standing with their pants around their ankles.
"We're about fifteen minutes out, sir. Hang in there."
"Give us a yell when you're on the doorstep. Sheppard out."
"You're uh..." Rodney waved at his crotch.
He glanced down. "I'm fine. The cold and Lieutenant Ford took care of my second shot."
"Pity," Rodney murmured, hauling up his pants, lip curled as he tucked himself into his underwear using only two fingers. "That kind of recovery's unusual at your age."
"My age?"
"Won't be happening too often, I'm afraid. Shame to waste it."
Since he agreed with the last bit, John let the rest go.
They were dressed, their packs repacked and in place when Ford announced they'd arrived and Dr. Zelenka was working on the door controls.
"This is no problem. I have you out in a minute."
John sighed philosophically. "Well, what's one more mi..."
Rodney's mouth cut off the last of the word. His hand wrapped around the back of John's neck and his lips demanded a response. A little surprised, John responded.
When they pulled apart, Rodney left his hand where it was and said, "John."
"Rodney?"
"I never said your name during..." Half a shrug. "I wanted to."
"Okay."
The second kiss lasted a little longer. Tongues got involved.
"Taking a risk here," John reminded him, the words brushing up against Rodney's lips.
"Not really. I know how long Zelenka's minutes are." Then he stepped back, tugged down his jacket, and faced the door just as it opened.
"Major Sheppard, Dr. McKay." Ford rode a gust of warm air past the scientist into the refrigerator, gaze flicking from one man to the other. "Are you all right?"
John couldn't stop himself from smiling although he honestly wasn't sure what, exactly, he was smiling about. "We're cool."
-end-
Pairing: McShep
Rating: NC-17
Notes: Started this for the City Exploration Challenge and obviously missed the deadline. Then it kept getting longer. And longer... Thanks to danvers for the quick and dirty beta.
Disclaimer: To be honest, I'm not entirely sure who SGA belongs to. I suspect that MGM is in there somewhere and the SiFi channel and possible Gekko but who knows. They're not mine. I'm making nothing off this.
COLD HANDS, WARM HEART
"Do you know what the biggest problem is, when you're exploring a city of mostly empty rooms?"
"That the rooms are empty?"
"I wasn't looking for an answer, Lieutenant."
"You paused."
Rodney turned just far enough to glare at Ford. "For effect. I paused for effect. An effect I might point out, that has been ruined."
Ford shrugged. "Sorry."
"No, you're not," Rodney snorted, facing front again.
"He's right," Ford confided to Teyla. "I'm not."
Teyla ducked her head to hide a smile and John figured he'd better get involved because, as amusing as the exchange was, he didn't need Ford poking at an already cranky astrophysicist. Not when they had another hour of exploring to go before they could begin heading back to the less empty bits of Atlantis.
"So tell us, Dr. McKay..." He flashed Rodney a charming smile. "...what is the biggest problem when you're exploring a city of mostly empty rooms?"
"Context," Rodney snapped, refusing to be charmed. "We can assume that this area, for instance..." A random wave more or less took in the two stories of window along one side of the broad corridor. "...is a public concourse but for all we know it could be a well lit dance studio."
"Yeah, somehow I doubt..."
"Context." He cut Ford's protest off. "We don't have any."
"We can make assumptions," John began.
"Do you know what they say about assumptions, Major? If you assume you make an ass of you and of me. Mostly you," he added huffily as they came to the end of the corridor and a pair of doors. "Let's go right. I want to find out what's behind this wall we've been following." He laid his hand against the door pad, muttered something under his breath when it failed to respond, and stepped back. "Major Sheppard."
John raised a cautioning hand before Ford could speak. The lieutenant was wearing his 'are you going to let him get away with that' face which, expressed, would only lead to Rodney going off on his 'arbitrary military authority' rant and, frankly, John didn't feel like getting caught in the cross fire. He preferred to pick his battles and since, at the moment, he didn't care which way they went, he had no need to waste any good will he may have built up by exercising the tenuous authority he maintained over the civilian scientist.
The door pad responded sluggishly to his touch.
"I don't believe it." Rodney practically applauded with sardonic glee. "We've actually found a part of Atlantis that doesn't love you and leap to do your bidding."
"Were you not saying earlier, Dr. McKay, that this part of the city may have been on the damaged section of the power grid?"
He nodded at Teyla, obviously pleased she'd been listening. "I was saying exactly that, yes." Then he grinned. "But I like my explanation better."
"My feelings are definitely hurt." John stepped back as the door began to finally open, hands going to his weapon, pleased to see Rodney move to one side as Teyla stepped forward and Ford dropped into a defensive position. In a city this size there had to be at least one room that wasn't going to love any of them and when they got there, his team was going to be ready for it.
It wasn't this room.
The lights came part way up as he stepped over the threshold just barely illuminating the pair of long stainless steel counters running down the center of the room. Those counters were empty but he could make out small machines of some kind on all of the identical --although not freestanding -- counters along the walls.
"Another lab."
"Are you sure?" he asked as Rodney pushed past him.
"Please; am I sure? It's not like this is the first lab we've found. Look." He pointed. "There's even sinks along the left hand wall although given the way the lights aren't working, I doubt there's water. It's probably some kind of botany research station given all that sunlight we just came out of."
"Maybe it's an under lit dance studio?" Ford offered from the doorway.
"Not likely," Rodney snorted, "these counters would be in the way and... Hey! Another door." The door was in a corner of the back wall. It looked surprisingly solid for Atlantis and, like the main door to room, didn't respond to his touch. "Major."
John muttered a terse, "Stay here," to Ford and Teyla, then crossed the room to Rodney's side. "If these rooms are on the damaged power grid, maybe we should just map them and move on; out of this area, not move further into it."
"We need to know how far the damage extends." Rodney folded his arms and stared pointedly at the door controls. "You're just feeling less manly because your power over the city has been diminished."
"Less manly?"
Rodney nodded. "And a little threatened. Afraid you're losing your touch and Atlantis is no longer responding to you like it did. The honeymoon's over, Major."
He could feel Ford grinning all the way across the room. "If I open this door, will you shut-up?"
"I might."
"Good enough." This door was even less responsive than the last. He felt an instant's fear that maybe Atlantis wasn't responding to him anymore and then told himself not to be an idiot. It was just the damaged power grid.
The next room was about half the size of room they were in and the lights didn't respond as Rodney stepped over the threshold.
"Major?"
"I'm on it," he sighed as he followed.
The lights were brighter than the outer room, that was something, although it might have been just that it was all reflective surfaces - walls, ceiling, and floor were all gleaming metal. There was no other door.
"Just a storeroom," Rodney observed bitterly. "An empty storeroom containing nothing of value because it contains nothing at all."
"At least there's no nasty surprises." He could have used a nasty surprise. A small one anyway, just to break up the boredom.
The door slammed closed.
"Hey!" John ran for the door, pounding on it with the side of his fist and accomplishing nothing but hurting his hand. "Not what I meant!"
"Major?"
"Oh no." He stepped away, Rodney'ss tone dropping both hands to the security of his P-90. "That had nothing to do with me."
"Why?" The scientist's eyes narrowed. "What were you thinking?"
"That I could use... but not, you know, like this." Releasing his weapon, he folded his arms. "I did not think the door closed."
"I believe you."
"That's too ba... Wait. You believe me?"
"Oh it has nothing to do with your innate trustworthiness, Major. We're in a low power area, remember? You barely got the door to open with a ritual laying on of hands; there's no way you could have just thought at it and... " Rodney paused and scowled at the door. "Well, this isn't good. There's no controls on this side."
"Major Sheppard?"
"Lieutenant Ford." John cocked his head slightly toward his headset as he spoke. He knew it didn't matter but he couldn't seem to break the habit. "Good to hear your voice."
"Uh, yes sir. Are you two okay?"
"We're fine but we can't open the door from this side so Dr. McKay will once again be talking you through the basics of hot-wiring Atlantian technology."
Rodney rolled his eyes. "Lieutenant, start by taking the cover off the control panel to the right of the door."
"No, really? It's off," he added before either man could respond to the initial sarcasm.
"There should be three blue crystals at the top."
"There's three crystals but they're not blue. They're kind of grayish beige."
"Like taupe?"
John mouthed the word at him as Ford repeated it. Rodney waved them both off. "Never mind. Just clip your PDA to the middle crystal." There was a long pause. Rodney sighed and folded his arms. "I know you have a cable, Lieutenant. Every team member has one as part of their Boy Scout explorers pack."
"Hey, don't be making fun of the Boy Scouts!"
John sighed in turn. "Lieutenant..."
"Sorry, sir. Okay, I'm attaching the cable and holy SHIT!"
"Lieutenant!" Pounding on the door continued to accomplish nothing but it made him feel vaguely better so he took another swing.
"The damned crystal drained my PDA!"
"Is it blue?" Rodney demanded, brows drawn into what John liked to think of as his solving the impossible face.
"No."
"Damn. If it was blue," he added to John, "Teyla could use her PDA to get it open."
"I don't think she's carrying one."
"Well, that's just..." He raised a hand, stopping himself. "Never mind. Lieutenant, you're going to have to go back to my lab and get about half a dozen charged... wait, never mind that either. Get Zelenka. Tell him what's happened and that he needs to come get us out. That way you won't have to worry your pretty head about the equipment."
"My what?"
This time John raised a hand. "Play nice, Rodney," he murmured. "None of this is Ford's fault. Go get Dr. Zelenka, Lieutenant," he continued raising his voice. "Teyla, go with Ford. We're perfectly safe in here and even if we weren't there's nothing you can do so there's no point in hanging around listening to us die in agony."
"Major?"
"That was a joke."
"And not a very funny one," Rodney added pointedly.
"If you are sure, Major."
"I'm sure, Teyla. Go."
After a fairly useless circuit of the room - useless in that it was empty, not very large, and neither factor had changed in the last five minutes -- John returned and found Rodney squinting at the door, his brows nearly touching. It looked as if he was trying to activate his X-Ray vision and the thought of Dr. Rodney McKay in a pair of tights with a big red 'S' on his chest made him smile. Preoccupied with thinking of Rodney's ass in tights, he almost missed his question.
"How long do you think it'll take them to get back?"
How long had it taken them to get this far. Double it. Add about fifteen minutes for explanations and another ten to gather equipment. Subtract at least an hour as Ford would be hauling ass both ways. "Three hours at the absolute minimum - and a lot of that depends on how fast Dr. Zelenka is willing to move."
"Tell him that the last pot of coffee's ready to pour and he'll move fast enough," Rodney muttered sliding out of his pack and leaning it against the wall. "So you figure our air will last three hours? Because I've never really relished the thought of suffocating."
"I'd have thought you'd be more concerned about starving."
"I have power bars in my pack, enough for three hours anyway." He folded his arms. "Unfortunately, I didn't think to pack oxygen."
"It's always the way. You forget to pack the one thing you're going to need. I remember this one time, me and two buddies got a flip over to Italy and none of us remembered to pack..."
"Major."
"Even if this room was airtight, the air would easily last us three hours."
The blue eyes widened into an expression of indignant betrayal, all but accusing John of holding out on him. "Even if?"
"There's a drain in the middle of the floor. It's hard to spot unless you're right on top of it," he shrugged out of his pack and leaned it against the wall by Rodney's. Frowned, laid his hand on the burnished metal as Rodney responded.
"What kind of storeroom has a drain in the middle of the floor?"
"I don’t think it's a storeroom."
"Of course if it's a storeroom for a botany lab then there'd be plants in here and plants need water and water needs a drain," Rodney mused, peering down at the six inch circular grate.
"I think it's a refrigerator."
He straightened. "Don't be ridiculous, that'..."
When John lifted his hand, the shiny print lasted only a moment before frosting over.
"Oh that's just wonderful; we're going to freeze to death!"
***
"I thought Canadian's liked the cold."
"Sure we do, because we all live in igloos and ski year round. How can you possibly make geographic culture generalizations when there's 9,922,330 square kilometers of geography involved?"
Was there a correct answer to that question, John wondered as he shifted his weight from one ass cheek to another. Tired of standing, they'd emptied both packs then flattened and stacked them to make a mostly insulated place for them to sit. It wasn't very comfortable and it was barely big enough for two grown men to sit back to back so that only butts and boots touched the floor. Rodney's ass was, of course, taking up more than half the space and the snippy reply to John's protest had been that he'd never complained about the size of said ass before.
Okay, it was a great ass.
But it was still taking up more than half the available space.
"I, personally, hate the cold," Rodney announced as though that should come as a surprise to a man who'd been refrigerated with him for - John checked his watch - almost an hour. "It takes a minimal drop in temperature for me to get chilled."
"Well, that explains the nipples."
"You don't get to talk about my nipples." John braced himself against the sudden increase of pressure against his back as Rodney tried to push him off the packs. "You're the one who's refusing to get your ass over here and warm me up."
"My ass is as close to you as it's going to get. If it was any closer, it would be on your lap."
"Okay."
He sighed. "Rodney, we're on duty. And if you'll remember, we agreed when we started..." What the hell had they started?
"Fooling around?"
"Thank you. We agreed when we started fooling around that there'd be no fooling around on duty."
"That was before we got locked in 10,000 year old refrigerator and I think that's a text book reason for shared body heat if I ever heard one."
He had a point. He also had more meat on him than John did and was radiating heat and, quite frankly, there were a few other body parts John would like warmed up more than his back. He checked his watch again. Even if Ford and Teyla insisted on Dr. Zelenka making his best possible speed, they'd be continuing to chill for almost two hours. "Okay, fine."
"Fine? Just like that?"
"What? You're surprised that your cognizant -- not to mention continuous -- argument finally won me over?"
John could actually hear Rodney frown. "I expected to win the argument; your capitulation just seems a little sudden, that's all."
"Yeah, well, all of a sudden shared body heated seemed like a good idea," he said as he stood. "But just body heat. No bodily fluids."
Rodney stared up at him incredulously as he shifted around to centre himself on the packs.
"Yeah, I didn't believe that either," John muttered. Frowned. "You don't seriously want me on your lap?"
"Why not?"
"Let's start with me being a grown man and an officer and sitting on your lap seems a little..."
"Gay?"
Okay, if Rodney started accusing him of internalized homophobia again, he was going throw a queen-sized hissy fit that should settle the subject once and for all. "Girly."
"So figure out a manly way to do it and then get your ass down here. I'm freezing!"
It was a lot colder now there was distance between them. Sure. Manly. He could do that. John bent and picked out two thermal food packs from their gear.
"Those are empty."
"I know." He threw one to either side of Rodney's hips and knelt, settling his ass back onto Rodney's thighs. "I didn't think you'd want my whole weight on your lap."
Half a smile. "You're a considerate man for an insane flyboy content to get by on looks, charm, and hair."
"Thank you." Strong fingers clutched at said hair and, pulling almost hard enough to hurt, drew his head down. That almost went straight to John's groin and he latched onto Rodney's mouth with a need that surprised him considering that, until a moment ago, he'd been the one saying no. Amazing the difference a moment makes, he managed to think before getting lost in sensation.
"And you," he gasped when he could talk again, "are one hell of a kisser for an arrogant brainiac trying to disprove that whole polite Canadian stereotype."
Rodney's agreement came back a little muffled as he was currently sucking and biting along the angle of John's jaw.
He threw his head back to give that talented mouth easier access and canted his hips forward so he could rub his ass over Rodney's crotch, feeling the other man's cock harden under the motion. "Someone's glad to see me."
"My sidearm."
"Liar."
"No, your leg is driving my sidearm into my hip. Hang on a minute."
Now he was here, John had no intention of leaving and the squirming required to access the holster straps was almost as much fun as the rubbing had been. By the time Rodney's 9 mil was in the pile with the rest of their gear, John had warmed up nicely and his cock was feeling uncomfortably confined.
A patch of warmth against his throat and a chill on his belly as long fingers got his belt and then his pants undone. The scream was completely spontaneous and grew louder as his bare ass hit the floor of the refrigerator after he'd thrown himself backwards off Rodney's lap and away from his icicle fingers.
Rodney was staring at him with stunned disbelief. "What?"
"Your fingers are freezing," he snapped as he grabbed his pants, stopping their fall at mid thigh, and rolled up onto his feet. "And now my ass is frozen and my balls are so far up they're sitting on my shoulder and... oh god..."
"These balls?" Rodney asked moving his head back far enough to look up the length of John's torso. "Or did you have another set I'm not aware of?"
In his understandable hurry to get his bare backside off the floor, he'd essentially shoved his equally bare frontside in Rodney's face. Rodney had responded by sucking one testicle and then the other into his mouth. The heat of his mouth followed by cold air against damp skin was surprisingly arousing. That is, the cold part was surprising. He'd been finding Rodney's mouth arousing for a while now.
"Because if you happen to have a spare set," Rodney continued as he adjusted his position and knelt on the packs, "I can think of a couple of people in this city with no balls at all who could use a donation. No forget that, thinking of your balls and Kavanaugh simultaneously takes me to a place I have less than no interest in going. A frightening place."
"Rodney..." Warm-cold-warm-cold. John lost track of what he was about to say. He suspected it might have been 'shut up' but since Rodney had returned to mouthing his balls, he didn’t much care. When Rodney pulled back, lips wet, John started to drop down to his knees but strong hands on his hips stopped him.
"No, no, that way leads to rubbing and mutual handling and rubbing plus mutual handling leads to mess. We can't make a mess. We have nothing to clean up with. Stay standing."
All the words made sense on their own but looking down on his cock pointing right at Rodney's face plus all that warm air from the talking ghosting across the head, he was having trouble understanding the sentences. "What?"
Rodney's answer was non verbal. Which was a nice change for a couple of different reasons. John dropped his pants, letting them pool to drop around his knees, so he could hold onto Rodney's shoulders with one hand and hold jacket and shirt out of the way with the other and watch his cock slide glistening in and out between Rodney's lips.
Rodney was not hypoglycemic. Since the condition was likely to have an impact on the team, John had asked Dr. Beckett about it early on.
"If you ask me," Carson had sighed. "He's just got an oral fixation. In times of stress he wants something in his mouth."
Let's hear it for oral fixations. Some guys sucked cock because it would get them sucked off in turn. Rodney McKay sucked cock because he enjoyed it. And he was good at it. Damned good. No, not just good John amended, tightening his grip on the broad shoulder and fighting to keep his knees from buckling as a strong tongue dipped into the slit lapped around the glans and applied exactly the right amount of pressure on the ridge just under the head. The man is an artist. A fucking ar... holy God damn...
The tension of staying upright under his own power plus the incredible sensations coming from his cock had him gasping, the pressure building until it escaped in a series of breathy groans. The small part of his brain still functioning knew Rodney was going to call them girly later; right now, he didn't care. His hips were bucking back and forth under hindbrain commands; he had no conscious control of the movement. Rodney took the hint, matched the rhythm and increased the suction.
His knees buckled as he came but Rodney kept him standing until he'd sucked him dry and only then was he permitted to crumble to the floor.
Not the floor exactly, Rodney sat back on his heels and John ended up straddling his knees, pants bunched up under his crotch, leaning back so he could rest his head on Rodney's shoulder while he caught his breath. He could feel his heart slamming against his ribs.
"I think my brain melted," he panted. "That was fucking fantastic."
"Of course it was." His expression was probably setting new parameters for smug but John didn't have the energy to check. "I have always been considered extraordinarily skilled in fellatio."
"Always?"
"For certain broad values of always, yeah. I remember this one time, my thesis advisor and I went out to this dinky little observatory north of Toronto, barely far enough away to avoid the light pollution. I blew him while he tried to find some obscure star cluster I had no interest in. He said I sucked the stars into focus. It was winter then too."
John had been letting Rodney's words wash over him - because that was what you did around Rodney most of the time - but the last bit caught his attention. Winter. "We're in a refrigerator."
"Yes, we are."
"My ass is freezing."
"I think I can take care of that."
The heat in Rodney's voice pulled John into motion. He leaned back far enough to see the other man's face and wasn't surprised to find the blue eyes narrowed and gleaming. The things those eyes were promising hit him like a blow to the chest. His breathing began to speed up and he could feel the tension building again.
"On your feet."
Contrary to the opinion of several of his CO's, he was perfectly capable of following orders.
Rodney handed over the empty thermal packs. "One of these in each hand and brace yourself against the wall."
It was an awkward shuffle with his pants around his ankles but somehow that added to his arousal. He didn't examine his reaction too closely. They were trapped in a 10,000 year old refrigerator in the Ancient's city in the Pegasus Galaxy; it wasn't like the situation was ever going to come up again so why not just go with it.
And speaking of coming up again...
"Must be the puppy chow," he murmured as slick fingers parted the cheeks of his ass. "What...?"
"Hand lotion. Goat's milk and vitamin E."
Well, that wasn't the weirdest thing he'd had up his ass over the last little while. He was just about at the point where consequences be damned, next mid-tech planet they hit, he was trading for some lube.
"I don’t need much," he gasped, closing his eyes and pushing back on Rodney's finger.
"I know."
He liked hearing that hitch in Rodney's voice. Liked knowing it was there because of him. Liked that Rodney took him at his word and the next thing he felt was the blunt head of the other man's cock. He started to push back but a strong grip on his hips stopped him.
"Oh no, not this time. You always want to rush this."
John glared back over his shoulder. "You're always too God-damned slow."
Rodney's lip curled. "I like to savor the moment."
He wanted to move, had to move, but Rodney held him immobile - forcing him to accept the slow stretch and the sensation of being filled. Probably his imagination but slower felt bigger. Yeah. Had to be his imagination. And he wasn't going to mention it to Rodney anyway. Frost built up against the wall by his face as he sucked in huge lungfuls of cold air and exhaled as slowly as he was able. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he felt the heat of Rodney's belly cup his ass.
"Jesus. Your ass really is freezing."
"Rodney, please..." It sounded more like begging than he'd intended.
Fortunately, Rodney's self control only went so far and to John's relief he started to move. After a moment of gentle rocking back and forth, he made an inarticulate sound and the pounding started in earnest. A moment after that, he adjusted his angle just a fraction and the fireworks started going off. Weirdly, considering how much noise he made about everything else, Rodney was usually quiet during sex. It wasn't long before his rhythm faltered, his grip tightened hard enough to bruise, and he buried himself ball's deep one final time in John's ass.
John locked his knees and managed to keep them both from hitting the floor, Rodney's body a warm weight on his back.
"Major Sheppard?
As Rodney straightened and slid out of him, he tapped his radio on. "Lieutenant Ford." Okay, that sounded a little rough. He cleared his throat and fought to steady his breathing. "You made good time."
"Yes, sir. We hurried a bit. You're locked in a refrigerator with Dr. McKay. Dr. Weir was afraid there might be justifiable homicide."
"Hey!"
John grinned at Rodney's indignant protest. It lost a little something when they were both standing with their pants around their ankles.
"We're about fifteen minutes out, sir. Hang in there."
"Give us a yell when you're on the doorstep. Sheppard out."
"You're uh..." Rodney waved at his crotch.
He glanced down. "I'm fine. The cold and Lieutenant Ford took care of my second shot."
"Pity," Rodney murmured, hauling up his pants, lip curled as he tucked himself into his underwear using only two fingers. "That kind of recovery's unusual at your age."
"My age?"
"Won't be happening too often, I'm afraid. Shame to waste it."
Since he agreed with the last bit, John let the rest go.
They were dressed, their packs repacked and in place when Ford announced they'd arrived and Dr. Zelenka was working on the door controls.
"This is no problem. I have you out in a minute."
John sighed philosophically. "Well, what's one more mi..."
Rodney's mouth cut off the last of the word. His hand wrapped around the back of John's neck and his lips demanded a response. A little surprised, John responded.
When they pulled apart, Rodney left his hand where it was and said, "John."
"Rodney?"
"I never said your name during..." Half a shrug. "I wanted to."
"Okay."
The second kiss lasted a little longer. Tongues got involved.
"Taking a risk here," John reminded him, the words brushing up against Rodney's lips.
"Not really. I know how long Zelenka's minutes are." Then he stepped back, tugged down his jacket, and faced the door just as it opened.
"Major Sheppard, Dr. McKay." Ford rode a gust of warm air past the scientist into the refrigerator, gaze flicking from one man to the other. "Are you all right?"
John couldn't stop himself from smiling although he honestly wasn't sure what, exactly, he was smiling about. "We're cool."
-end-