Visual Phallusy by Zoe Rayne (voyeurism challenge)
Title: Visual Phallusy
Author: Zoe Rayne (z_rayne)
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay
Rating: NC-17
Challenge: Voyeurism
Summary: When he'd picked it up, it had lit up faintly and his first thought had been that it was an Ancient PDA. The reality of it turned out to be much, much cooler.
A/N: Not so smutty as I'd originally planned, alas. Also? I'm so not apologizing for the title. Nope. I have no shame. Thanks to cathexys, and sarren for beta reading. Any remaining flaws are my own fault.
Disclaimer: Not mine. If they were...well, let's just say they wouldn't have much time for missions.
Visual Phallusy
by Zoe Rayne
Rodney hadn't realized what it was when he had first found the palm-sized silver rectangle. It was about a quarter-inch thick, and on one of the short sides was a small wheel that reminded him of the control for changing stations on the transistor radio he'd had as a kid. When he'd picked it up, it had lit up faintly and his first thought had been that it was an Ancient PDA. The reality of it turned out to be much, much cooler.
It was a quantum viewscreen.
He'd read all the reports coming out of the SGC while he was working at Area 51, so he was familiar with the quantum mirror that had been found on P3R-233. The quantum viewscreen was light years better than the mirror, though. While you couldn't step through it into another reality, you could watch and listen to your heart's content--and without the need for a device on the other end.
In the beginning he hadn't mentioned the viewscreen to anyone because it was a new toy and he'd wanted a chance to play with it before he had to turn it over to Zelenka or Perkins or, God help them, Kavanagh. He'd spent countless hours wandering around deserted parts of the city, slowly adjusting the control dial.
He'd watched a reality where the city's shields had failed long ago; the walls were covered in what looked like the Atlantican equivalent of barnacles, and marine life swam placidly through the corridors. Other iterations of the timeline had included empty ocean as far as the eye could see, a Wraith occupational force, and a wide variety of Earth expeditionary teams.
It was that last group that had ended up being the most interesting.
Once he'd identified the branch containing dozens of realities in which Earth had sent people through the stargate to Atlantis--some purely military forces, some purely scientific, but the majority a combination of the two--he'd narrowed his viewing down to half a dozen realities just different enough from his own that their scientific discoveries might prove the key to fighting the Wraith. After all, if one Rodney McKay was managing to save the world on a regular basis, six or seven of him should be able to tackle world hunger, the Grand Unification Theory, the Wraith, the Goa'uld, and the Riemann hypothesis and have it all wrapped up neatly before dinner.
It had been a good idea, resulting in dozens of improvements to Atlantis's systems, not least of which was a refinement in their translation algorithms that allowed for faster and more accurate automated translation of the Ancient database. Still, Rodney was beginning to feel a little guilty about taking the credit for ideas that weren't, strictly speaking, his.
He'd just decided to confess to Elizabeth about the quantum viewscreen--with as much positive spin on the situation as possible, of course--when he discovered an altogether different use for it.
~ * ~ * ~
It had been a long night in the lab, a situation that was, unfortunately, all too typical nowadays. Rodney stumbled through the door into his room and collapsed face-down on the bed, uncomfortably aware of the early morning briefing scheduled for the following day. He was tempted to simply sleep where and how he'd fallen, except that there was something hard poking distractingly into his hipbone.
He rolled over and stuck his hand into the pocket of his lab coat. Oh. Pulling the quantum viewscreen out, he looked at it thoughtfully. So far he'd only watched the goings-on in public areas, but if he was going to spill his secret and turn the viewscreen over to Elizabeth in the morning, he couldn't help but want to take at least a little peek into the personal life--lives?--of the alternate Rodney McKays. The viewscreen hummed to life.
Rodneys Beta and Gamma were asleep--Gamma was snoring loudly, which Rodney was absolutely certain that he himself did not do--and the rooms in realities Delta through Eta were empty, though they all seemed to belong to his counterparts. Ah, well. He spun the dial back down, intending to leave it tuned to what he thought of as the Beta reality, and stopped dead at the scene in Delta.
Rodney Delta had just arrived home, stumbling through the doorway with one arm wrapped around someone who was unmistakably John Sheppard. At first Rodney thought that his alter ego had been injured, an idea that caused a mild twinge of admittedly irrational panic. It quickly became obvious, though, that Rodney Delta was not only uninjured, but was healthy and functional in a number of ways. That discovery caused a stronger twinge of equally irrational panic.
Still, Rodney continued to watch the scene unfolding on the viewscreen, for the first time understanding why someone would slow down and stare at a car accident. Because this? This was very much a personal twenty-car pileup and Rodney just couldn't look away.
Yes, certainly he'd hoped that at least one of his counterparts might have a more fulfilling personal life than he did, but he had completely and utterly failed to imagine that it would be with another man. He wasn't interested in men--not even Major Sheppard, who seemed to have raised boyish charm to the level of an art form. Obviously Rodney had underestimated the degree to which this cluster of realities differed from his own.
Apparently charm was not the only area in which Sheppard was disproportionately gifted. Rodney squinted at the screen, not entirely sure that what he was seeing wasn't some kind of optical illusion. Weeks of experimentation with the device had shown him he could make minor adjustments to what he thought of as "camera angles," but now he discovered what was necessary for total control--including the ability to zoom in on selected areas of the image--was simply adequate motivation.
Right now, Rodney was pretty highly motivated.
The duo on the viewscreen finally divested each other of their remaining clothing and moved to the bed, managing to continue kissing virtually nonstop throughout the entire process. So far the only sounds had been the soft, wet, breathy noises of foreplay; neither of them had spoken a single word since stepping through the door, and Rodney wondered what that meant. Was this one of their first times--maybe the first time--intensity and desire leaving both of them so wrapped up in the sensations of need and now and hard that there was no room for words? Or was this the hundredth time between two men who knew each other inside and out, their shared intimacy so deep and profound that they could communicate a thousand words with the slightest touch?
Either way, the thought left him with matching aches in his chest and his cock, and he was as surprised about the former as about the latter.
He was also surprised at Sheppard's tenderness, at the almost worshipful looks and caresses he gave to his Rodney. Sheppard made even the act of penetration look reverent, his fingers lightly tracing the planes of Rodney's face as his hips pressed slowly, slowly forward until he was buried to the hilt.
Rodney's cock twitched impatiently and he slid his right hand down to undo his pants. He probably should feel worse about being an inter-reality peeping Tom, but one of the people he was watching was him and he knew he wouldn't mind being watched, as long as it was only himself who was doing the watching. For all he knew, he was, at this very moment, being watched by another reality's version of himself. That thought gave him pause. Another reality's Rodney, watching Rodney masturbate while he watched another reality's Rodney and Sheppard have sex.... The possibility of infinite recursion was mind-boggling.
Still, it wasn't enough to stop him from tugging his cock free of his boxers, or from continuing to watch. He stroked himself, his hand moving in sync with the image of Sheppard's hand on Rodney Delta's cock, and wondered what his John Sheppard's touch would feel like. Would his hands be callused from years of handling the flight controls of planes and helicopters? Would he be as tender and adoring as the Delta reality's version of Sheppard?
He didn't come when Rodney Delta did, though he was close to the edge. Instead, he moved his hand away from his cock and watched as an unfocused look of pleasure passed over features identical to his own, watched Sheppard watch, too. Without breaking the rhythm of slow, deep thrusts he'd kept up since his cock had first slid home inside Rodney Delta, Sheppard pressed tender kisses to his lover's chin and lips and closed eyelids.
"Rodney." Sheppard sounded like something in him had broken, the word half gasp and half prayer, and Rodney watched him shudder through his climax. Hands so like Rodney's own gentled and soothed Sheppard, pulling him down into Rodney Delta's embrace, caressing his arms and shoulders and back.
Suddenly the Delta reality, with its own unique versions of Rodney McKay and John Sheppard, didn't seem that far removed from his own reality after all. The viewscreen dropped to the bed beside him and Rodney closed his eyes, letting his imagination fill in the details as he stroked himself: John Sheppard propped above him, eyes dark with desire; John's hand, warm and callused and strong, moving in the perfect rhythm on Rodney's cock; John's mouth hot against Rodney's neck and jaw, teasing shudders from his body.
Rodney came, his universe shattering into a million pieces, and he suddenly, ridiculously, thought of Pandora. He hadn't quite released the totality of evil onto the world, but the quantum viewscreen turned out to be a box filled with knowledge he didn't necessarily want but that he couldn't put back, either.
He thought of Sheppard's sly grins and sharp banter, and the random and unexpected brush of hand or arm. Maybe, like Pandora, Rodney could find a little bit of hope, too.
fait accompli
Author: Zoe Rayne (z_rayne)
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay
Rating: NC-17
Challenge: Voyeurism
Summary: When he'd picked it up, it had lit up faintly and his first thought had been that it was an Ancient PDA. The reality of it turned out to be much, much cooler.
A/N: Not so smutty as I'd originally planned, alas. Also? I'm so not apologizing for the title. Nope. I have no shame. Thanks to cathexys, and sarren for beta reading. Any remaining flaws are my own fault.
Disclaimer: Not mine. If they were...well, let's just say they wouldn't have much time for missions.
Visual Phallusy
by Zoe Rayne
Rodney hadn't realized what it was when he had first found the palm-sized silver rectangle. It was about a quarter-inch thick, and on one of the short sides was a small wheel that reminded him of the control for changing stations on the transistor radio he'd had as a kid. When he'd picked it up, it had lit up faintly and his first thought had been that it was an Ancient PDA. The reality of it turned out to be much, much cooler.
It was a quantum viewscreen.
He'd read all the reports coming out of the SGC while he was working at Area 51, so he was familiar with the quantum mirror that had been found on P3R-233. The quantum viewscreen was light years better than the mirror, though. While you couldn't step through it into another reality, you could watch and listen to your heart's content--and without the need for a device on the other end.
In the beginning he hadn't mentioned the viewscreen to anyone because it was a new toy and he'd wanted a chance to play with it before he had to turn it over to Zelenka or Perkins or, God help them, Kavanagh. He'd spent countless hours wandering around deserted parts of the city, slowly adjusting the control dial.
He'd watched a reality where the city's shields had failed long ago; the walls were covered in what looked like the Atlantican equivalent of barnacles, and marine life swam placidly through the corridors. Other iterations of the timeline had included empty ocean as far as the eye could see, a Wraith occupational force, and a wide variety of Earth expeditionary teams.
It was that last group that had ended up being the most interesting.
Once he'd identified the branch containing dozens of realities in which Earth had sent people through the stargate to Atlantis--some purely military forces, some purely scientific, but the majority a combination of the two--he'd narrowed his viewing down to half a dozen realities just different enough from his own that their scientific discoveries might prove the key to fighting the Wraith. After all, if one Rodney McKay was managing to save the world on a regular basis, six or seven of him should be able to tackle world hunger, the Grand Unification Theory, the Wraith, the Goa'uld, and the Riemann hypothesis and have it all wrapped up neatly before dinner.
It had been a good idea, resulting in dozens of improvements to Atlantis's systems, not least of which was a refinement in their translation algorithms that allowed for faster and more accurate automated translation of the Ancient database. Still, Rodney was beginning to feel a little guilty about taking the credit for ideas that weren't, strictly speaking, his.
He'd just decided to confess to Elizabeth about the quantum viewscreen--with as much positive spin on the situation as possible, of course--when he discovered an altogether different use for it.
~ * ~ * ~
It had been a long night in the lab, a situation that was, unfortunately, all too typical nowadays. Rodney stumbled through the door into his room and collapsed face-down on the bed, uncomfortably aware of the early morning briefing scheduled for the following day. He was tempted to simply sleep where and how he'd fallen, except that there was something hard poking distractingly into his hipbone.
He rolled over and stuck his hand into the pocket of his lab coat. Oh. Pulling the quantum viewscreen out, he looked at it thoughtfully. So far he'd only watched the goings-on in public areas, but if he was going to spill his secret and turn the viewscreen over to Elizabeth in the morning, he couldn't help but want to take at least a little peek into the personal life--lives?--of the alternate Rodney McKays. The viewscreen hummed to life.
Rodneys Beta and Gamma were asleep--Gamma was snoring loudly, which Rodney was absolutely certain that he himself did not do--and the rooms in realities Delta through Eta were empty, though they all seemed to belong to his counterparts. Ah, well. He spun the dial back down, intending to leave it tuned to what he thought of as the Beta reality, and stopped dead at the scene in Delta.
Rodney Delta had just arrived home, stumbling through the doorway with one arm wrapped around someone who was unmistakably John Sheppard. At first Rodney thought that his alter ego had been injured, an idea that caused a mild twinge of admittedly irrational panic. It quickly became obvious, though, that Rodney Delta was not only uninjured, but was healthy and functional in a number of ways. That discovery caused a stronger twinge of equally irrational panic.
Still, Rodney continued to watch the scene unfolding on the viewscreen, for the first time understanding why someone would slow down and stare at a car accident. Because this? This was very much a personal twenty-car pileup and Rodney just couldn't look away.
Yes, certainly he'd hoped that at least one of his counterparts might have a more fulfilling personal life than he did, but he had completely and utterly failed to imagine that it would be with another man. He wasn't interested in men--not even Major Sheppard, who seemed to have raised boyish charm to the level of an art form. Obviously Rodney had underestimated the degree to which this cluster of realities differed from his own.
Apparently charm was not the only area in which Sheppard was disproportionately gifted. Rodney squinted at the screen, not entirely sure that what he was seeing wasn't some kind of optical illusion. Weeks of experimentation with the device had shown him he could make minor adjustments to what he thought of as "camera angles," but now he discovered what was necessary for total control--including the ability to zoom in on selected areas of the image--was simply adequate motivation.
Right now, Rodney was pretty highly motivated.
The duo on the viewscreen finally divested each other of their remaining clothing and moved to the bed, managing to continue kissing virtually nonstop throughout the entire process. So far the only sounds had been the soft, wet, breathy noises of foreplay; neither of them had spoken a single word since stepping through the door, and Rodney wondered what that meant. Was this one of their first times--maybe the first time--intensity and desire leaving both of them so wrapped up in the sensations of need and now and hard that there was no room for words? Or was this the hundredth time between two men who knew each other inside and out, their shared intimacy so deep and profound that they could communicate a thousand words with the slightest touch?
Either way, the thought left him with matching aches in his chest and his cock, and he was as surprised about the former as about the latter.
He was also surprised at Sheppard's tenderness, at the almost worshipful looks and caresses he gave to his Rodney. Sheppard made even the act of penetration look reverent, his fingers lightly tracing the planes of Rodney's face as his hips pressed slowly, slowly forward until he was buried to the hilt.
Rodney's cock twitched impatiently and he slid his right hand down to undo his pants. He probably should feel worse about being an inter-reality peeping Tom, but one of the people he was watching was him and he knew he wouldn't mind being watched, as long as it was only himself who was doing the watching. For all he knew, he was, at this very moment, being watched by another reality's version of himself. That thought gave him pause. Another reality's Rodney, watching Rodney masturbate while he watched another reality's Rodney and Sheppard have sex.... The possibility of infinite recursion was mind-boggling.
Still, it wasn't enough to stop him from tugging his cock free of his boxers, or from continuing to watch. He stroked himself, his hand moving in sync with the image of Sheppard's hand on Rodney Delta's cock, and wondered what his John Sheppard's touch would feel like. Would his hands be callused from years of handling the flight controls of planes and helicopters? Would he be as tender and adoring as the Delta reality's version of Sheppard?
He didn't come when Rodney Delta did, though he was close to the edge. Instead, he moved his hand away from his cock and watched as an unfocused look of pleasure passed over features identical to his own, watched Sheppard watch, too. Without breaking the rhythm of slow, deep thrusts he'd kept up since his cock had first slid home inside Rodney Delta, Sheppard pressed tender kisses to his lover's chin and lips and closed eyelids.
"Rodney." Sheppard sounded like something in him had broken, the word half gasp and half prayer, and Rodney watched him shudder through his climax. Hands so like Rodney's own gentled and soothed Sheppard, pulling him down into Rodney Delta's embrace, caressing his arms and shoulders and back.
Suddenly the Delta reality, with its own unique versions of Rodney McKay and John Sheppard, didn't seem that far removed from his own reality after all. The viewscreen dropped to the bed beside him and Rodney closed his eyes, letting his imagination fill in the details as he stroked himself: John Sheppard propped above him, eyes dark with desire; John's hand, warm and callused and strong, moving in the perfect rhythm on Rodney's cock; John's mouth hot against Rodney's neck and jaw, teasing shudders from his body.
Rodney came, his universe shattering into a million pieces, and he suddenly, ridiculously, thought of Pandora. He hadn't quite released the totality of evil onto the world, but the quantum viewscreen turned out to be a box filled with knowledge he didn't necessarily want but that he couldn't put back, either.
He thought of Sheppard's sly grins and sharp banter, and the random and unexpected brush of hand or arm. Maybe, like Pandora, Rodney could find a little bit of hope, too.
fait accompli