This Particular Phenomenon (Sheppard/McKay) Amnesty: 38 minutes
Title: This Particular Phenomenon
Author: xanphibian
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Notes: for the 38 minute challenge. many thanks to kaneko for the whipping it into shape for me.
***
Rodney thought, in moments of extreme duress, that there should be some sort of shut-off valve when it came to sexual response. It would make complete sense; you would be free of distractions when trying to save millions of lives, and you would not, in any way, shape, or form, have to force yourself to stop staring at a certain major's ass while explaining the whys and wherefores of the total breakdown of Ancient technology.
And you would not be so blatantly obvious about it that you got the patented (not literally, of course, but it should definitely have some sort of legal trademark or advertising copyright) eyebrow thing when you finally did make eye contact.
But, raging erection and 'not really trademarked but should be' eyebrow thing aside, Rodney saved the day (yet again) and waited for everyone to heave sighs of relief and leave him alone. (For the time being.)
Of course, this being the second or third -- okay, eighth -- time this particular phenomenon had occurred, and the Major not being stupid, Rodney was alone in one of the smaller labs, with Sheppard, and if he wasn't completely mistaken, this had come to a head.
"What do you want, Major?" Rodney snapped, thinking that if he was impatient enough, brisk enough, Sheppard would shake his head and go on about his business. Whatever that was supposed to be -- probably a congratulatory pat on the shoulder by his subordinates followed by a long morning of sleeping in.
But that wasn't meant to be. (Damn life, with its inconsistencies and unruly patterns.)
"This has to stop," Sheppard began, then paused to give Rodney an all too knowing look. "So far, it hasn't ..."
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Major," Rodney lied, "and if you haven't noticed I'm a bit overworked and overtired and if this is important, which I highly doubt, you can talk and glare at me some other time."
Rodney was completely unprepared for the sudden movement, exhaustion must be dulling his lightning fast reflexes, and he barely suppressed a very unmanly-like squeal when John suddenly pushed him against the wall, hand square on his chest, very warm, very strong.
He swallowed audibly, but recovered. "I take it you think this can't wait?"
"No, Rodney, it can't," Sheppard said, his voice and breath and face too close for comfort.
Rodney gave a token struggle but remained exactly where he was. Where he wanted to be.
"It seems to me we have a problem," John began, but Rodney wasn't listening, couldn't, because the major was too close, and his body was giving off heat that Rodney couldn't help wanting to soak up.
"Uh ..."
"And if we don't solve it, right now, before the next life-or-death race to preserve humanity happens, we might not get out of this alive."
The words were spoken softly, steadily, like a secret. And until this point, Rodney had been sure it was a secret. The longing, the tension, the indescribable heat and need whenever the Major was in his vicinity. Which, either fortunately or unfortunately, was very often.
"How do you propose I do that, Major?" Rodney said, his tone embarrassingly pleading despite the bitterness of the words.
"We, Rodney. Not just you."
Rodney blinked. "Who, what?"
"If you weren't so ridiculously self-centered, you would have already noticed that you aren't the only one having this particular problem."
"Wait, no, that's just wrong. Self-centered, yes, I concur, but ridiculously? I don't think ..."
"Shut up, Rodney," John said, and before another word of righteous indignation could escape, Rodney's mouth was fully occupied.
John was kissing him. Not just kissing, but kissing him, devouring him, with lips and tongue and teeth, with heat and hunger all at once. With need, something that Rodney understood completely, and responded to in kind.
And then there was moaning, equal and in direct proportion to the intensity of the kiss, which couldn't really be termed that at all, since this was more like mouth fucking.
And then it stopped. Suddenly. Abruptly.
"Let's finish this in my quarters," John said, a little raggedly, his breath coming out in hot gasps.
Rodney didn't even have the chance to say yes, or nod, or anything, because John was gone.
He gave himself a moment to slide down to the floor, let the shock of the event wash over him for just a minute, and then he was off, following Major John Sheppard wherever he wanted to go.
END
Author: xanphibian
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Notes: for the 38 minute challenge. many thanks to kaneko for the whipping it into shape for me.
***
Rodney thought, in moments of extreme duress, that there should be some sort of shut-off valve when it came to sexual response. It would make complete sense; you would be free of distractions when trying to save millions of lives, and you would not, in any way, shape, or form, have to force yourself to stop staring at a certain major's ass while explaining the whys and wherefores of the total breakdown of Ancient technology.
And you would not be so blatantly obvious about it that you got the patented (not literally, of course, but it should definitely have some sort of legal trademark or advertising copyright) eyebrow thing when you finally did make eye contact.
But, raging erection and 'not really trademarked but should be' eyebrow thing aside, Rodney saved the day (yet again) and waited for everyone to heave sighs of relief and leave him alone. (For the time being.)
Of course, this being the second or third -- okay, eighth -- time this particular phenomenon had occurred, and the Major not being stupid, Rodney was alone in one of the smaller labs, with Sheppard, and if he wasn't completely mistaken, this had come to a head.
"What do you want, Major?" Rodney snapped, thinking that if he was impatient enough, brisk enough, Sheppard would shake his head and go on about his business. Whatever that was supposed to be -- probably a congratulatory pat on the shoulder by his subordinates followed by a long morning of sleeping in.
But that wasn't meant to be. (Damn life, with its inconsistencies and unruly patterns.)
"This has to stop," Sheppard began, then paused to give Rodney an all too knowing look. "So far, it hasn't ..."
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Major," Rodney lied, "and if you haven't noticed I'm a bit overworked and overtired and if this is important, which I highly doubt, you can talk and glare at me some other time."
Rodney was completely unprepared for the sudden movement, exhaustion must be dulling his lightning fast reflexes, and he barely suppressed a very unmanly-like squeal when John suddenly pushed him against the wall, hand square on his chest, very warm, very strong.
He swallowed audibly, but recovered. "I take it you think this can't wait?"
"No, Rodney, it can't," Sheppard said, his voice and breath and face too close for comfort.
Rodney gave a token struggle but remained exactly where he was. Where he wanted to be.
"It seems to me we have a problem," John began, but Rodney wasn't listening, couldn't, because the major was too close, and his body was giving off heat that Rodney couldn't help wanting to soak up.
"Uh ..."
"And if we don't solve it, right now, before the next life-or-death race to preserve humanity happens, we might not get out of this alive."
The words were spoken softly, steadily, like a secret. And until this point, Rodney had been sure it was a secret. The longing, the tension, the indescribable heat and need whenever the Major was in his vicinity. Which, either fortunately or unfortunately, was very often.
"How do you propose I do that, Major?" Rodney said, his tone embarrassingly pleading despite the bitterness of the words.
"We, Rodney. Not just you."
Rodney blinked. "Who, what?"
"If you weren't so ridiculously self-centered, you would have already noticed that you aren't the only one having this particular problem."
"Wait, no, that's just wrong. Self-centered, yes, I concur, but ridiculously? I don't think ..."
"Shut up, Rodney," John said, and before another word of righteous indignation could escape, Rodney's mouth was fully occupied.
John was kissing him. Not just kissing, but kissing him, devouring him, with lips and tongue and teeth, with heat and hunger all at once. With need, something that Rodney understood completely, and responded to in kind.
And then there was moaning, equal and in direct proportion to the intensity of the kiss, which couldn't really be termed that at all, since this was more like mouth fucking.
And then it stopped. Suddenly. Abruptly.
"Let's finish this in my quarters," John said, a little raggedly, his breath coming out in hot gasps.
Rodney didn't even have the chance to say yes, or nod, or anything, because John was gone.
He gave himself a moment to slide down to the floor, let the shock of the event wash over him for just a minute, and then he was off, following Major John Sheppard wherever he wanted to go.
END