Emissions, by lavvyan (secret superpower challenge)
Title: Emissions
Author: lavvyan
Pairing: John/Rodney
Word Count: ~3,200, so not really a flashfic
Spoilers: general season two, non-explicit ones for Allies, No Man's Land, and Misbegotten. In fact, this is a tag to the latter.
Summary: It was as though the Wraith queen's invasion had unlocked something in his mind.
Notes: Mind-reading, empathy, and sex: yes. Plot: no. This is porn. And I used a word I learned from smuffster - I just had to. *g*
~~~
Emissions
Rodney was having a bad week.
If anyone had known that the Wraith queen had interrogated him back on that Hiveship, there almost certainly would have been a significantly more meticulous physical than there had been, along with the enquiry of 'How much did you spill?"
Not all that much, actually. The queen had found inside herself a perverse curiosity about life on Earth, ripping pictures out of his mind for what had seemed like hours at the time. Nothing important, and now she was dead, so nobody had to know about her, right? At least Ronon seemed to be of the same opinion, and he was as paranoid as they came when it came to the Wraith. So Rodney had, possibly for the first time in his life, pulled a smoke and mirror act any politician would have been proud of to avoid medical attention. He didn't want medical attention. Solid results from brain scans and bloodworks would crush his somewhat frantic litany of this-isn't-real and cement his alteration with the foundation of facts and numbers. And he really didn't think he could cope with that right now.
It was as though the Wraith queen's invasion had unlocked something in his mind. Teyla had been the first he'd heard, perhaps because her genetic makeup included a certain measurement of Wraith DNA. Radek had been next, a rapid-fire stream of Czech that gave Rodney a headache and made him wish to snap, 'Think in English, damn it!' One by one, most of the other members of the expedition had followed, some easier to... to interpret than others. He still couldn't pick up anything from Ronon at all, which he was extremely grateful for, thank you very much, but every time he so much as thought of getting something to eat, the head cook's reflections on anything food-related would come pattering down on Rodney until he longed for a pillow to pull over his brain.
He had tried not eating, but that made the whole thing even worse, his thoughts revolving around hungry, hers dealing with food. Hot food. Cold food. Side-dishes, the new fruit from M7X-498, menu plans, dessertbreakfastsnacksdinner- it made him even more ravenous right before he threw up from the disorientation.
It wouldn't be so bad if it were only thoughts he was picking up, but true to form, the bad luck didn't stop there. Thanks to his newfound powers of emotional insight, Rodney knew that Katie Brown was so homesick she'd virtually do anything not to feel so alone - and didn't that make him feel special. He knew Elizabeth was constantly torn between trying to be everyone's boss and keep some friends at the same time, Captain Newman mistrusted the Athosians on a level Sergeant Bates would have envied, and Colonel Sheppard was even more suspicious of Ancient technology than Carson, he just did a better job hiding it. And it seemed that this was what the military was about - suspend personal preferences in the name of necessity. Well, Colonel Sheppard was brilliant at suspending personal preferences, that was for sure.
If someone had asked Rodney a week ago, he would have told them that having mind-reading superpowers? Awesome. A thing to be desired, strived for, and, once obtained, being utilized for one's own advantage as much as possible. Of course, that had been before he had known everything about almost everybody's sex life, nonexistent or otherwise, and gained insight into personal secrets that were just that: much too personal, and with a feasibility of humiliation for other people that went beyond even Rodney's comfort level.
It had just been a few days, though. Maybe it would go away on its own. Until then, he'd just work from his room and try not to think of anyone. Or do anything that could make anyone think of him, other than work-related. Or think anything that anyone might be thinking simultaneously which would make their thoughts end up in Rodney's brain, and he didn't think he could handle these things with the way his own thoughts were spinning out of control.
Ow. Headache. This had to be what synaesthesia felt like.
His door chime rang, but he wasn't in the mood to interact with Colonel Sheppard right now, let alone discuss the Ancient database, so he didn't move. It was so nice to rest his forehead on the desk's cool, smooth surface, and he should probably rethink his stance on infirmary visits, because he was starting to feel decidedly dizzy. Make that a lot dizzy with a good deal of vertigo. Hey, he thought as he slid out of his chair, hello floor. Only that he was caught before his head could impact; good reflexes, Colonel, and nice to know we're back at worried irritation. It had to be number one on the list of reactions-Rodney-McKay-induces-in-John-Sheppard, right before amused impatience and affectionate exasperation.
"Whoa, Rodney. Hang on," and Sheppard was manhandling him so that he was in something resembling an upright position, with most of his weight supported by the other man. A hand went up to Sheppard's radio, and Rodney fumbled for it, batted it away from the call switch.
"I'm fine, I simply, um, I didn't eat all that much lately, probably low blood sugar," which might have been significantly more convincing if he weren't clinging to Sheppard like the man was a buoy, but, "really, no need to call Carson, I just, I need to lie down for a bit." Yes, there was still worry, but with Rodney's spiffy new mind-reading abilities, he could easily use the Colonel's own perceptions against him, even if they were vaguely insulting.
"Please, Colonel. When have you ever known me to downplay a medical condition?"
Score. He knew it even before Sheppard heaved a put-upon sigh.
"All right. Let's move you to the bed."
They walked across the room, or rather, Rodney stumbled and Sheppard more or less carried him; and instead of just dropping him onto the mattress, Sheppard took care to make sure Rodney got properly situated, even taking his shoes off with a strangely focused look and placing them next to the bed before he straightened up again.
"Want me to grab you some food?"
But Rodney was too focused on what he was picking up from Sheppard to answer that question.
Arousal.
He blinked stupidly up at the criminally hot Colonel who was getting horny from close physical contact with one Rodney McKay, and wow, maybe there was something to his superpowers after all, because no way would he have believed this if he hadn't been able to pick it up directly from the source.
"Are you kidding me?"
Fine, so perhaps he still didn't.
"What, you said your blood sugar was low," and the irritation was back again, but underlying, still there, still present, that fine thread of arousal; Rodney would have had to be stupid to let that pass.
And Rodney was a genius.
He was also in better shape than he had thought, obviously, otherwise he wouldn't have found the strength to sit up, reach for Sheppard, and pull him in, pull him close, pull him down, swallowing the squawk of surprise and instinctive suspicion with a sloppy kiss.
Sheppard backed off almost immediately.
"What are you doing?" But he wanted, oh, how he wanted, and it gave Rodney the courage to reach for him again.
"Making reasonable use of the fact that I'm on this bed, you're on this bed, and we're both able and willing," he cupped Sheppard's growing erection through his BDUs and squeezed gently, "to have ourselves a good time."
"You didn't seem all that able just a minute ago," Sheppard remarked with a doubtful expression, but inwardly he was weighing up pros and cons and quickly coming up 'worth the risk', so Rodney leered at him.
"Believe me, there's more strength in these loins than an island of amazon women could ask for," he quipped, and Sheppard laughed, melting against him for another kiss.
"Your lines suck, McKay."
"Want me to suck something else?" Rodney suggested, and oops, someone obviously had a thing for blow jobs, judging by the spike of arousal that surged through the Colonel.
Oh, wow. No, he didn't think he was flexible enough for that, but he wouldn't be averse to trying. Some other time, when he'd had Carson surgically remove his gag reflex.
For now, he simply got back to the kissing, something one ostensibly didn't do when one was about to have hot gay sex, but a) Rodney didn't care, and b) Sheppard was an enthusiastic enough partner that he could have done this for hours. Sheppard's arousal was beginning to have no insignificant impact on Rodney's own, though, and so he reached for the zipper of the Colonel's shirt and thus slowly started the process of peeling the man out of his clothes. Sheppard promptly returned the favour. There was something to be said for zippers: one didn't have to fumble with buttons, and the whole shirt-over-one's-head-making-one's-hair-stick-up-in-odd-directions business was lacking. It was so very easy to simply let an unzipped shirt slide down one's arms, which Rodney did. As did Sheppard.
And while there was clearly not a single reason for feeling self-conscious right now, the fact that Sheppard did was quite endearing. No, he wasn't too thin. Or too hairy. But yes, Rodney's broad chest and shoulders were very manly, thank you for noticing.
"You're hot," he murmured, both to reassure Sheppard and because it was true. "Very, very hot, and can we please get to the touching now?"
"Why, if you insist," Sheppard drawled, reaching out and casually flicking his thumb over Rodney's left nipple, something he'd apparently been dying to do for ages. One more reason for Rodney to let the world know exactly what he was wanting whenever he wanted it: he didn't have to wait so long.
But now Sheppard was leaning forward to add a slightly rough tongue and cautious sucking to the other nipple, and oh, seeing that dark head gently attached to his own chest was doing all kinds of things to Rodney. Good things, but none of them particularly calming right now, and it was high time to do some touching of his own.
Which he would do, right after indulging himself for a minute.
Sheppard hummed happily when Rodney started to run his fingers through his hair; obviously he wasn't only fond of blow jobs, but of head massages as well. Well, that was something Rodney could do, and he began to gently rub Sheppard's scalp, every now and then stopping to brush a knot out of the soft hair. Sheppard responded by fastening himself to Rodney's neck and sucking and licking and biting, and they so had to get horizontal right now.
He let himself fall backwards and onto the mattress, pulling Sheppard with them, both of them grunting slightly as the impact drew the air out of their lungs. But now they were chest to chest, and belly to belly, and, more important, hard-on to hard-on; and Sheppard could rub himself lazily against Rodney while still kissing and laving his neck, and Rodney could cup Sheppard's ass with his hands and squeeze, and they both could push against each other, and oh. If this hadn't been hot enough on its own, Sheppard's tongue slowly drawing a wet trail across Rodney's chest and down his belly, trying to learn Rodney's taste, would have certainly sealed the deal.
But, not his belly button, he was ticklish!
Sheppard took grinning delight in Rodney squirming underneath him, and when he looked up, his eyes were shining with silent laughter. His thoughts and feelings conveying a clear message: this was fun. And it was even more fun because it was Rodney, smart, sexy, comfortable Rodney, and this day couldn't possibly get any better, because John Sheppard had what he wanted. It was making him happy. And horny.
Oh, God. Those pants had to go right now.
Running his hands over Sheppard's back because he couldn't quite make himself stop touching for some reason, Rodney pushed them upright again, ignoring Sheppard's pout.
"Lose the pants, Colonel, I believe I owe you a blow job."
Grinning again, but kneeling over Rodney's thighs and reaching for his fly to pop open the buttons of his BDUs while Rodney struggled to get to his own.
"You know, I think you can call me John."
"But this is kinky!" which earned him a short huff of laughter and a slap across the head, but he didn't complain, because John liked this, liked the easy banter and the slow touches, feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time. And Rodney liked John feeling relaxed and easy, except, "blow job, John."
"Pushy bottom, aren't you?"
This didn't even deserve an answer, so Rodney just pushed John off his knees and got up, swaying slightly with returning dizziness, but nevertheless managing to get himself out of his pants and socks and boxers while John was still sitting on the edge of the bed, untying his shoes.
"Jesus, McKay, what's the hurry?"
But there was anticipation now, his hands even slower to pull off his shoes and set them to the side, and Rodney didn't have to be a genius to know what he was supposed to do now, didn't even have to see the image in John's mind. He dropped to his knees, ignoring the hard, cold floor and shuffling forward until he was resting comfortably between John's thighs.
"Allow me," he murmured, already reaching for the flaps of John's pants and pulling them apart, hands sliding in, sliding around, finding smooth, warm skin underneath the fabric of John's boxers, nudging him to raise his hips for a second. Slowly, gently, pulling down underwear and BDUs alike, carefully freeing John's erection and letting his clothes pool by his feet, abandoned.
"Rodney," John said softly as Rodney ran his hands up the insides of his thighs, and higher, pushing his legs a little further apart, fingers stopping millimetres from John's groin, causing him to draw in a sharp breath and push his hips a little forward.
"Patience," Rodney admonished him with a smirk.
Then he leaned forward and licked a broad stripe from John's balls up to the tip of his dick in one fluid motion, right before he took the head in his mouth and sucked.
"Jesus!" John gave a sharp gasp, hips jerking involuntarily as his body tried to find more of that heatwetsuctionohGod, and Rodney had to squeeze his own erection firmly to stop himself from coming right then.
"Patience," he mumbled again, this time more to himself, and dove down to take as much of John's erection into his mouth as he could without gagging. John stifled a groan and let himself flop down onto the mattress, throwing his right arm across his face. Rodney grinned, because it was high time for John to admit Rodney's status as a genius in everything, even if it wasn't out loud, and got back to driving John crazy. It was nice, having the warm firmness of John's dick in his mouth, letting it flatten his tongue as he sucked, the head bumping softly against his palate. Drawing back, he let his tongue learn the map of the veins crossing the silky skin, teasing the slightly raised circumcision scar to the background sounds of John trying to keep quiet and not really succeeding.
Weirdly enough, the strangled little sighs and gasps interspersed with the occasional cut-off groan were way hotter than any porn soundtrack of moans and screams could have ever been, especially in combination with John's progressively jumbled thoughts. Rodney could feel every single brain cell that surrendered to his admittedly enthusiastic offensive, and somehow, John's growing arousal felt like it was bouncing off the walls of Rodney's skull, echoing and quickening until he couldn't tell the difference between John's excitement and his own anymore. He only knew that they were both getting desperate.
Rodney leaned forward, rested his left hand on John's thigh to support himself and wrapped the other around the base of John's cock, starting to stroke and suck at the same time, faster, harder, revelling in the way John writhed, twitched, and finally stiffened.
And came.
Rodney's brain shortened out as John lost himself in his orgasm, completely overwhelmed by hothothotGodyesRodney and the incredible surge of affection that accompanied the not-quite-thought. He almost choked on the first rush of John's semen spurting into his mouth, trying to breathe and moan and swallow while simultaneously shooting his own load against the side of his bed, too lost in sensations to care how unhygienic that was. He drew back, gasping, come trickling down his chin as he gulped down air in his haste to breathe, finally simply letting himself fall against John's legs and pressing his face into John's warm belly as they both shuddered through their orgasms.
Dimly, he was aware of John's hand clumsily petting his head in an awkward display of fondness, but couldn't find the energy to move. Rodney closed his eyes, warm fuzzy skin under his cheek and against his shoulder, cold hard floor under his knees, and felt... content. John's belly was moving with every breath the other man was taking, lulling Rodney into drowsiness, and he probably would have fallen asleep right were he was if not for John calling his name, softly. Rodney had to shake his head against the returning dizziness as he looked up.
John was smiling at him, an honest to god smile that had his face light up and made him look impossibly young. Resting himself on one elbow, John tugged at him, slightly, and...
Oh.
Oh God, yes, he could do that, he could totally do that, and if John was willing to risk his career for something dangerously close to... well, to something stronger than simple affection, then who was Rodney to disagree? Especially with John determined to make this more than a casual relationship between buddies, to make them happy somehow, and as Rodney crawled up the bed and into a kiss, John tenderly wiping the sticky stuff off his chin, it was like coming home, as cheesy as it sounded. Pressing his naked body against John's was home.
He fell asleep like that, losing himself in the dizziness and John's surprisingly gentle caresses - another thing men supposedly didn't do - and letting the world fade away. Ignoring that Corporal Masters was just jerking off, Simpson hadn't gotten laid in ages, Teyla and Ronon were going at it like predatory bunnies, and Lorne was contemplating the merits of gay porn versus bugging Parrish for shares of his secret stash of chocolate.
Somehow, their voices didn't strike him as quite so annoying anymore.
When he woke up, Rodney was completely alone in his head, but a warm body was resting against his back, and John's soft snores sent warm touches of moist breath against his neck.
He'd never tell anyone that sex with Colonel Sheppard was spectacular enough to cure potentially deadly or at least sanity-threatening alien mind-diseases.
It was a superpower that probably only worked on Rodney, anyway.
~~~
End.
Author: lavvyan
Pairing: John/Rodney
Word Count: ~3,200, so not really a flashfic
Spoilers: general season two, non-explicit ones for Allies, No Man's Land, and Misbegotten. In fact, this is a tag to the latter.
Summary: It was as though the Wraith queen's invasion had unlocked something in his mind.
Notes: Mind-reading, empathy, and sex: yes. Plot: no. This is porn. And I used a word I learned from smuffster - I just had to. *g*
~~~
Emissions
Rodney was having a bad week.
If anyone had known that the Wraith queen had interrogated him back on that Hiveship, there almost certainly would have been a significantly more meticulous physical than there had been, along with the enquiry of 'How much did you spill?"
Not all that much, actually. The queen had found inside herself a perverse curiosity about life on Earth, ripping pictures out of his mind for what had seemed like hours at the time. Nothing important, and now she was dead, so nobody had to know about her, right? At least Ronon seemed to be of the same opinion, and he was as paranoid as they came when it came to the Wraith. So Rodney had, possibly for the first time in his life, pulled a smoke and mirror act any politician would have been proud of to avoid medical attention. He didn't want medical attention. Solid results from brain scans and bloodworks would crush his somewhat frantic litany of this-isn't-real and cement his alteration with the foundation of facts and numbers. And he really didn't think he could cope with that right now.
It was as though the Wraith queen's invasion had unlocked something in his mind. Teyla had been the first he'd heard, perhaps because her genetic makeup included a certain measurement of Wraith DNA. Radek had been next, a rapid-fire stream of Czech that gave Rodney a headache and made him wish to snap, 'Think in English, damn it!' One by one, most of the other members of the expedition had followed, some easier to... to interpret than others. He still couldn't pick up anything from Ronon at all, which he was extremely grateful for, thank you very much, but every time he so much as thought of getting something to eat, the head cook's reflections on anything food-related would come pattering down on Rodney until he longed for a pillow to pull over his brain.
He had tried not eating, but that made the whole thing even worse, his thoughts revolving around hungry, hers dealing with food. Hot food. Cold food. Side-dishes, the new fruit from M7X-498, menu plans, dessertbreakfastsnacksdinner- it made him even more ravenous right before he threw up from the disorientation.
It wouldn't be so bad if it were only thoughts he was picking up, but true to form, the bad luck didn't stop there. Thanks to his newfound powers of emotional insight, Rodney knew that Katie Brown was so homesick she'd virtually do anything not to feel so alone - and didn't that make him feel special. He knew Elizabeth was constantly torn between trying to be everyone's boss and keep some friends at the same time, Captain Newman mistrusted the Athosians on a level Sergeant Bates would have envied, and Colonel Sheppard was even more suspicious of Ancient technology than Carson, he just did a better job hiding it. And it seemed that this was what the military was about - suspend personal preferences in the name of necessity. Well, Colonel Sheppard was brilliant at suspending personal preferences, that was for sure.
If someone had asked Rodney a week ago, he would have told them that having mind-reading superpowers? Awesome. A thing to be desired, strived for, and, once obtained, being utilized for one's own advantage as much as possible. Of course, that had been before he had known everything about almost everybody's sex life, nonexistent or otherwise, and gained insight into personal secrets that were just that: much too personal, and with a feasibility of humiliation for other people that went beyond even Rodney's comfort level.
It had just been a few days, though. Maybe it would go away on its own. Until then, he'd just work from his room and try not to think of anyone. Or do anything that could make anyone think of him, other than work-related. Or think anything that anyone might be thinking simultaneously which would make their thoughts end up in Rodney's brain, and he didn't think he could handle these things with the way his own thoughts were spinning out of control.
Ow. Headache. This had to be what synaesthesia felt like.
His door chime rang, but he wasn't in the mood to interact with Colonel Sheppard right now, let alone discuss the Ancient database, so he didn't move. It was so nice to rest his forehead on the desk's cool, smooth surface, and he should probably rethink his stance on infirmary visits, because he was starting to feel decidedly dizzy. Make that a lot dizzy with a good deal of vertigo. Hey, he thought as he slid out of his chair, hello floor. Only that he was caught before his head could impact; good reflexes, Colonel, and nice to know we're back at worried irritation. It had to be number one on the list of reactions-Rodney-McKay-induces-in-John-Sheppard, right before amused impatience and affectionate exasperation.
"Whoa, Rodney. Hang on," and Sheppard was manhandling him so that he was in something resembling an upright position, with most of his weight supported by the other man. A hand went up to Sheppard's radio, and Rodney fumbled for it, batted it away from the call switch.
"I'm fine, I simply, um, I didn't eat all that much lately, probably low blood sugar," which might have been significantly more convincing if he weren't clinging to Sheppard like the man was a buoy, but, "really, no need to call Carson, I just, I need to lie down for a bit." Yes, there was still worry, but with Rodney's spiffy new mind-reading abilities, he could easily use the Colonel's own perceptions against him, even if they were vaguely insulting.
"Please, Colonel. When have you ever known me to downplay a medical condition?"
Score. He knew it even before Sheppard heaved a put-upon sigh.
"All right. Let's move you to the bed."
They walked across the room, or rather, Rodney stumbled and Sheppard more or less carried him; and instead of just dropping him onto the mattress, Sheppard took care to make sure Rodney got properly situated, even taking his shoes off with a strangely focused look and placing them next to the bed before he straightened up again.
"Want me to grab you some food?"
But Rodney was too focused on what he was picking up from Sheppard to answer that question.
Arousal.
He blinked stupidly up at the criminally hot Colonel who was getting horny from close physical contact with one Rodney McKay, and wow, maybe there was something to his superpowers after all, because no way would he have believed this if he hadn't been able to pick it up directly from the source.
"Are you kidding me?"
Fine, so perhaps he still didn't.
"What, you said your blood sugar was low," and the irritation was back again, but underlying, still there, still present, that fine thread of arousal; Rodney would have had to be stupid to let that pass.
And Rodney was a genius.
He was also in better shape than he had thought, obviously, otherwise he wouldn't have found the strength to sit up, reach for Sheppard, and pull him in, pull him close, pull him down, swallowing the squawk of surprise and instinctive suspicion with a sloppy kiss.
Sheppard backed off almost immediately.
"What are you doing?" But he wanted, oh, how he wanted, and it gave Rodney the courage to reach for him again.
"Making reasonable use of the fact that I'm on this bed, you're on this bed, and we're both able and willing," he cupped Sheppard's growing erection through his BDUs and squeezed gently, "to have ourselves a good time."
"You didn't seem all that able just a minute ago," Sheppard remarked with a doubtful expression, but inwardly he was weighing up pros and cons and quickly coming up 'worth the risk', so Rodney leered at him.
"Believe me, there's more strength in these loins than an island of amazon women could ask for," he quipped, and Sheppard laughed, melting against him for another kiss.
"Your lines suck, McKay."
"Want me to suck something else?" Rodney suggested, and oops, someone obviously had a thing for blow jobs, judging by the spike of arousal that surged through the Colonel.
Oh, wow. No, he didn't think he was flexible enough for that, but he wouldn't be averse to trying. Some other time, when he'd had Carson surgically remove his gag reflex.
For now, he simply got back to the kissing, something one ostensibly didn't do when one was about to have hot gay sex, but a) Rodney didn't care, and b) Sheppard was an enthusiastic enough partner that he could have done this for hours. Sheppard's arousal was beginning to have no insignificant impact on Rodney's own, though, and so he reached for the zipper of the Colonel's shirt and thus slowly started the process of peeling the man out of his clothes. Sheppard promptly returned the favour. There was something to be said for zippers: one didn't have to fumble with buttons, and the whole shirt-over-one's-head-making-one's-hair-stick-up-in-odd-directions business was lacking. It was so very easy to simply let an unzipped shirt slide down one's arms, which Rodney did. As did Sheppard.
And while there was clearly not a single reason for feeling self-conscious right now, the fact that Sheppard did was quite endearing. No, he wasn't too thin. Or too hairy. But yes, Rodney's broad chest and shoulders were very manly, thank you for noticing.
"You're hot," he murmured, both to reassure Sheppard and because it was true. "Very, very hot, and can we please get to the touching now?"
"Why, if you insist," Sheppard drawled, reaching out and casually flicking his thumb over Rodney's left nipple, something he'd apparently been dying to do for ages. One more reason for Rodney to let the world know exactly what he was wanting whenever he wanted it: he didn't have to wait so long.
But now Sheppard was leaning forward to add a slightly rough tongue and cautious sucking to the other nipple, and oh, seeing that dark head gently attached to his own chest was doing all kinds of things to Rodney. Good things, but none of them particularly calming right now, and it was high time to do some touching of his own.
Which he would do, right after indulging himself for a minute.
Sheppard hummed happily when Rodney started to run his fingers through his hair; obviously he wasn't only fond of blow jobs, but of head massages as well. Well, that was something Rodney could do, and he began to gently rub Sheppard's scalp, every now and then stopping to brush a knot out of the soft hair. Sheppard responded by fastening himself to Rodney's neck and sucking and licking and biting, and they so had to get horizontal right now.
He let himself fall backwards and onto the mattress, pulling Sheppard with them, both of them grunting slightly as the impact drew the air out of their lungs. But now they were chest to chest, and belly to belly, and, more important, hard-on to hard-on; and Sheppard could rub himself lazily against Rodney while still kissing and laving his neck, and Rodney could cup Sheppard's ass with his hands and squeeze, and they both could push against each other, and oh. If this hadn't been hot enough on its own, Sheppard's tongue slowly drawing a wet trail across Rodney's chest and down his belly, trying to learn Rodney's taste, would have certainly sealed the deal.
But, not his belly button, he was ticklish!
Sheppard took grinning delight in Rodney squirming underneath him, and when he looked up, his eyes were shining with silent laughter. His thoughts and feelings conveying a clear message: this was fun. And it was even more fun because it was Rodney, smart, sexy, comfortable Rodney, and this day couldn't possibly get any better, because John Sheppard had what he wanted. It was making him happy. And horny.
Oh, God. Those pants had to go right now.
Running his hands over Sheppard's back because he couldn't quite make himself stop touching for some reason, Rodney pushed them upright again, ignoring Sheppard's pout.
"Lose the pants, Colonel, I believe I owe you a blow job."
Grinning again, but kneeling over Rodney's thighs and reaching for his fly to pop open the buttons of his BDUs while Rodney struggled to get to his own.
"You know, I think you can call me John."
"But this is kinky!" which earned him a short huff of laughter and a slap across the head, but he didn't complain, because John liked this, liked the easy banter and the slow touches, feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time. And Rodney liked John feeling relaxed and easy, except, "blow job, John."
"Pushy bottom, aren't you?"
This didn't even deserve an answer, so Rodney just pushed John off his knees and got up, swaying slightly with returning dizziness, but nevertheless managing to get himself out of his pants and socks and boxers while John was still sitting on the edge of the bed, untying his shoes.
"Jesus, McKay, what's the hurry?"
But there was anticipation now, his hands even slower to pull off his shoes and set them to the side, and Rodney didn't have to be a genius to know what he was supposed to do now, didn't even have to see the image in John's mind. He dropped to his knees, ignoring the hard, cold floor and shuffling forward until he was resting comfortably between John's thighs.
"Allow me," he murmured, already reaching for the flaps of John's pants and pulling them apart, hands sliding in, sliding around, finding smooth, warm skin underneath the fabric of John's boxers, nudging him to raise his hips for a second. Slowly, gently, pulling down underwear and BDUs alike, carefully freeing John's erection and letting his clothes pool by his feet, abandoned.
"Rodney," John said softly as Rodney ran his hands up the insides of his thighs, and higher, pushing his legs a little further apart, fingers stopping millimetres from John's groin, causing him to draw in a sharp breath and push his hips a little forward.
"Patience," Rodney admonished him with a smirk.
Then he leaned forward and licked a broad stripe from John's balls up to the tip of his dick in one fluid motion, right before he took the head in his mouth and sucked.
"Jesus!" John gave a sharp gasp, hips jerking involuntarily as his body tried to find more of that heatwetsuctionohGod, and Rodney had to squeeze his own erection firmly to stop himself from coming right then.
"Patience," he mumbled again, this time more to himself, and dove down to take as much of John's erection into his mouth as he could without gagging. John stifled a groan and let himself flop down onto the mattress, throwing his right arm across his face. Rodney grinned, because it was high time for John to admit Rodney's status as a genius in everything, even if it wasn't out loud, and got back to driving John crazy. It was nice, having the warm firmness of John's dick in his mouth, letting it flatten his tongue as he sucked, the head bumping softly against his palate. Drawing back, he let his tongue learn the map of the veins crossing the silky skin, teasing the slightly raised circumcision scar to the background sounds of John trying to keep quiet and not really succeeding.
Weirdly enough, the strangled little sighs and gasps interspersed with the occasional cut-off groan were way hotter than any porn soundtrack of moans and screams could have ever been, especially in combination with John's progressively jumbled thoughts. Rodney could feel every single brain cell that surrendered to his admittedly enthusiastic offensive, and somehow, John's growing arousal felt like it was bouncing off the walls of Rodney's skull, echoing and quickening until he couldn't tell the difference between John's excitement and his own anymore. He only knew that they were both getting desperate.
Rodney leaned forward, rested his left hand on John's thigh to support himself and wrapped the other around the base of John's cock, starting to stroke and suck at the same time, faster, harder, revelling in the way John writhed, twitched, and finally stiffened.
And came.
Rodney's brain shortened out as John lost himself in his orgasm, completely overwhelmed by hothothotGodyesRodney and the incredible surge of affection that accompanied the not-quite-thought. He almost choked on the first rush of John's semen spurting into his mouth, trying to breathe and moan and swallow while simultaneously shooting his own load against the side of his bed, too lost in sensations to care how unhygienic that was. He drew back, gasping, come trickling down his chin as he gulped down air in his haste to breathe, finally simply letting himself fall against John's legs and pressing his face into John's warm belly as they both shuddered through their orgasms.
Dimly, he was aware of John's hand clumsily petting his head in an awkward display of fondness, but couldn't find the energy to move. Rodney closed his eyes, warm fuzzy skin under his cheek and against his shoulder, cold hard floor under his knees, and felt... content. John's belly was moving with every breath the other man was taking, lulling Rodney into drowsiness, and he probably would have fallen asleep right were he was if not for John calling his name, softly. Rodney had to shake his head against the returning dizziness as he looked up.
John was smiling at him, an honest to god smile that had his face light up and made him look impossibly young. Resting himself on one elbow, John tugged at him, slightly, and...
Oh.
Oh God, yes, he could do that, he could totally do that, and if John was willing to risk his career for something dangerously close to... well, to something stronger than simple affection, then who was Rodney to disagree? Especially with John determined to make this more than a casual relationship between buddies, to make them happy somehow, and as Rodney crawled up the bed and into a kiss, John tenderly wiping the sticky stuff off his chin, it was like coming home, as cheesy as it sounded. Pressing his naked body against John's was home.
He fell asleep like that, losing himself in the dizziness and John's surprisingly gentle caresses - another thing men supposedly didn't do - and letting the world fade away. Ignoring that Corporal Masters was just jerking off, Simpson hadn't gotten laid in ages, Teyla and Ronon were going at it like predatory bunnies, and Lorne was contemplating the merits of gay porn versus bugging Parrish for shares of his secret stash of chocolate.
Somehow, their voices didn't strike him as quite so annoying anymore.
When he woke up, Rodney was completely alone in his head, but a warm body was resting against his back, and John's soft snores sent warm touches of moist breath against his neck.
He'd never tell anyone that sex with Colonel Sheppard was spectacular enough to cure potentially deadly or at least sanity-threatening alien mind-diseases.
It was a superpower that probably only worked on Rodney, anyway.
~~~
End.