Timing is Everything by Barkeep - City Exploration Challenge
Title: Timing is Everything
Author: Barkeep
Rating: R
Warnings: Slashy intent (McShep)
Disclaimer: They're only mine in beer-induced hallucinations...
Notes: Sort of a sequel to last week's voyeurism challenge, Hands , but I think it could stand on it's own. Big smooches to mgbutterfly for giving it a quick once over and keeping me from making any horrible errors. And, of course, any errors left are mine.
Hands, John decided, he could deal with. Hands were safe. Hands weren’t inherently sexual. John longed for the past few weeks when Rodney’s hands were what occupied his subconscious and, on occasion, conscious mind. His misguided attempts to wean himself off his hand fixation had just ended in him noticing other things about Rodney, things he really, really shouldn’t be noticing.
And now, here they were, stuck in a tiny room in a remote part of the city and John couldn’t help but notice the very things he kept telling himself he wasn’t noticing.
Rodney paced tight circles in the small area, shrugging out of his vest and dropping it on one of the low benches that lined the room. “I’m sure they’re looking for us and they’re bound to find us eventually, right? Of course we’ll probably be dead from starvation by then or maybe suffocation. Did you see any air vents?” Rodney glared at John who was pointedly ignoring his tirade. “Are you just going to stand there? We need to figure out a way out of here.”
“Any bright ideas on that front?” John asked, leaning against the soft, vaguely rubbery wall.
Rodney eyed the featureless door panel like he was thinking of running headlong at it… again. “Well, it’s only glass.”
John rolled his eyes and attempted to ignore the fact that the room seemed to be getting warmer. “Look, we’ve tried that already and all we’ve got to show for it are bruises. It may look like glass but it’s got to be at least four inches thick.”
“I don’t see you coming up with any alternative solutions.” Rodney griped.
“We’ve only been in here for a few minutes, I’m sure the others will come looking for us.”
“It’s not the looking for us part that I’m concerned about, it’s the finding us.”
“Well, you’re the genius - think of something.”
Rodney shot him a withering look. “You’re the tactician, figure something out.”
“Fine. How about we cut through the glass with your nipples?” John snapped.
Rodney’s mouth worked soundlessly for a moment before he managed to sputter. “You… my… what?”
“Nipples.” John offered helpfully.
“Are an integral part of your military arsenal how exactly?”
John eyed him speculatively for a moment, lips pursed. “They seemed like they might do the trick.”
“Nipples.” Rodney said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Specifically yours.”
Rodney folded his arms self-consciously across his chest. “What, and I ask this with great trepidation, is so noteworthy about my nipples?”
“They’re always…” John flushed and gestured vaguely with his hand, “nipply.”
“Yes, well, they’re nipples, what would you have them be? Elbowy?”
“No, I mean, they’re always, you know, perky.”
“Perky?”
“Yeah, perky, Christ they’re practically drilling holes through your tee shirt most of the time. So, yeah, perky, hard, erect - whatever.” John stopped abruptly, his mouth snapping shut with an audible click.
“You think my nipples are perky?” Rodney asked.
"Rodney, you could cut diamonds with those things."
"Well, I happen to have sensitive skin, Major, but thank you so much for drawing embarrassing attention to my plight. Perhaps you’d like to discuss why my nipples aren’t the only erect thing in the room right now, hmmm?” Rodney said with a pointed look at Sheppard’s groin.
John didn’t say anything in return; he just looked at Rodney for a moment that seemed to go on forever and Rodney began to get the distinct feeling that he was missing something important.
Rodney finally cleared his throat and broke the silence. “Well. This is possibly the most uncomfortable silence I’ve ever experienced. You?”
John nodded slowly. “It ranks fairly high.”
“Well, as long as we’re on the same page. I think that- take off your pants.”
John blinked. “Okay, I think you just skipped ahead a few chapters.”
“What? No, sorry, I meant take off your belt.” Rodney gestured impatiently, his foot tapping soundlessly on the rubbery floor.
John’s hands automatically reached for his belt and began undoing the buckle. It was definitely not his imagination; it was getting hotter in here by the minute. “What, exactly, have you got in mind here, McKay?”
“Well, since you brilliantly left our packs out in the hall and all of the things that might be useful in getting us out of this room were oh, so conveniently in our packs, I thought-” Rodney stopped abruptly and wiped the sweat off his brow, frowning at the ceiling. “Is it getting hotter in here?”
John shrugged and tossed Rodney his belt. “Yeah. I thought maybe it was just me.”
Rodney examined the belt briefly and then handed it back to John and walked over to one of the benches. “Come on, we haven’t got all day. Unless you have some secret desire to be boiled like a lobster.”
“I wouldn’t call it boiling, it’s just a little humid.”
“Fine, poached like a salmon, then. Come on, get up there and climb on my shoulders.”
John stopped with one foot on the bench and one on the floor. “Climb on your shoulders.”
“Yes, yes, otherwise how will you reach the vent in the ceiling? Or did you want to be on the bottom? Because if so, I’m more than willing to exchange places.”
John found himself at a momentary loss for words because his brain was doing that Technicolor porn thing again with Rodney and his hands and his nipples and now, god help him, there was explicit positioning. “Wait, there’s a vent?”
“Yes, in the center of the room. It’s fairly well hidden; I’m not surprised you didn’t notice it. I think we might be able to loop the belt through the grate and hopefully one of us can crawl through the duct and get out.”
“And by ‘one of us’ you mean me.”
“Naturally.”
“And what if there’s no way out of the ducts?”
“Perhaps the radios will work if you’re able to crawl even a slight distance away from the room. I doubt they shielded the duct-work.”
“Just so you’re aware, I’m not a hundred percent on board with this plan. But,” he continued before Rodney could interrupt, “I don’t see that we have many other choices.”
Three aborted attempts later, John was perched on Rodney’s shoulders as he staggered to a halt in the center of the room. “Steady, McKay.”
“Just hurry up.” Rodney said with strain evident in his voice.
John reached above his head, straining to pass the end of the belt through one of the slim openings in the well-hidden grate. He put one hand on Rodney’s head for balance and stretched, his fingers barely grazing the warm, damp metal. He fumbled with the belt briefly as Rodney shifted beneath him. “Hold still for a second, would you?”
“Easy for you to say.”
“Brace yourself,” John said, digging his toes into Rodney’s back and lunging upward. Less than a minute later the belt was securely looped through the vent grating and he relaxed, settling his weight more evenly on Rodney’s shoulders and removing his hand from Rodney’s head. “Now what?”
“Now, we let gravity help us. Hang on to the belt and pull. If your weight isn’t sufficient then I’ll pull on you.”
“Right.” The room was getting warmer and more humid by the moment and being right under the vent certainly wasn’t helping matters. John tried to wipe the sweat from his hands onto his pants as best he could and wrapped the end of the belt around his hand several times. “Here we go.”
John could feel Rodney brace himself, sweaty and solid underneath John’s thighs. He quickly, aborted that train of thought - they had enough going on without the added problem of John’s dick poking Rodney in the back of the head. He pulled himself up slightly, letting his weight hang from the belt. Rodney was still underneath him but they were barely touching except where Rodney’s hands gripped his calves.
“Anything?” Rodney craned his neck to look up at the vent.
John felt a slight tremor in the belt. “Yeah, I think it might be working. You might want to-”
The rest of his sentence turned into a shout as something gave way and John’s arms came down forcefully, his left elbow driving into Rodney’s upturned face as they collapsed to the floor.
John lay there for a moment, getting his breath back before he propped himself up on one forearm and looked over at Rodney. “You okay?”
“No, I’m not okay. You fell on me!”
“Well, it was your idea.” John replied mildly as he scooted over to Rodney’s side.
“I don’t recall asking you to put my eye out while you were attempting to crush me.”
John sighed as Rodney glared at him with one eye, the other being covered by Rodney’s hand. “Let me see.” With a sigh, Rodney removed his hand and John flinched.
“What? What is it? It’s bad, isn’t it? Is it bleeding?”
“Relax, Rodney, it isn’t bleeding. It’s actually not too bad.” John said, pasting a reassuring smile on his face.
“God, you’re a bad liar. I’m going to need a glass eye, aren’t I? I wonder if Carson thought to bring any. I suppose I could just use an eye patch although I was never a big fan of the pirate look, personally. You could probably carry it off, maybe a parrot on your shoulder, you’re halfway there with that hair.”
“What is it with you and my hair?” John frowned as he batted Rodney’s hand away as he attempted to examine the injured eye. “It’s really not bad, you’re just going to have one hell of a black eye. Wish we had an ice pack, though, it’s probably going to get pretty swollen.”
“Speaking of that, did it work?” Rodney asked, unable to get a clear look at the ceiling from his vantage point.
“Nope.” John held a piece of broken fabric up in front of Rodney’s good eye. “You owe me a belt.” John surveyed the room and then looked back at Rodney who was lying on his back with his eyes closed, his face pale and pinched. “So, any other ideas? Because I hate to be negative but it’s really getting warm in here.”
Rodney didn’t open his eyes but he held out his hand with a sigh. “Help me up."
John grasped his hand and pulled him up to a sitting position. When Rodney listed a bit to one side, John instinctively reached behind him and grasped his other shoulder. Rodney gasped and clamped his mouth shut against a whimper of pain. John let go of the shoulder instinctively and curled his hand around the back of Rodney’s neck instead, feeling the other man’s pulse beat wildly under his fingertips.
“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, shit, that hurts,” Rodney chanted under his breath.
“Your shoulder or your arm?”
“Shoulder, I think.”
“I should probably take a look at it, let’s get your shirt off.”
“And how is that going to help, Dr. Sheppard?” Rodney asked, his voice heavy with sarcasm.
“I can check the swelling, see if anything looks broken and hopefully use the shirt to rig a nice sling for you so it won’t hurt so much.”
Rodney blinked at him and then surprised him by nodding. “That would be good. Not hurting as much would be very, very good.”
“Okay then, here we go, just let me do all the work.” John paused, “Um, I’m going to need my hand.”
“What?” Rodney glanced down at his right hand and seemed surprised to see the death grip he had on John’s own hand. “Sorry,” he said, releasing it from his sweaty grip.
“No problem.” John changed the way he was kneeling in order to brace one leg against Rodney’s back and reached under the hem of Rodney’s shirt. He used one hand to pull the fabric away from the other man’s body and the other hand to work the uninjured arm out of the sleeve. He heard Rodney’s breathing quicken as the fabric of the shirt pulled against his other shoulder. “Okay, now over your head.” John deftly eased the shirt over Rodney’s head and then gently worked it down his left arm.
“Well?” Rodney asked after a long moment of silence.
“Well, I don’t think it’s broken.”
“But…?”
“It looks… wrong.”
Rodney snorted. “Define wrong, please.”
“Wrong. As in not right. Now hold still for a second.” While they had been talking John had been busy fashioning a sort of sling out of Rodney’s tee shirt and his own broken belt. He held it up to Rodney’s body to gauge the size and frowned. “I’m going to need your belt, too.”
John switched positions, being careful not to jostle Rodney in the process. He tried to ignore the fact that the object or objects, to be precise, of his current obsession were inches from his face. So he looked at his hands, which were currently fumbling with Rodney’s belt, which meant he was staring at Rodney’s groin instead and that wasn’t really helping matters any. So he allowed his eyes to wander back up to Rodney’s chest and there they were, perky as always, which was incredible really, given how hot and humid the room had become. John wondered briefly what Rodney would do if he just reached out and licked one. But that would be bad and wrong, John reminded himself sternly. Rodney was hurt, his breath was coming in little gasps that absolutely should not be turning John on right now. Biting his lip, John forced himself to pay attention to what he was doing and looked down at his hands that were still fumbling with the clasp on Rodney’s belt.
Rodney frowned as John fumbled around, wondering how anyone who was so clumsy could become a pilot. Through the buzz of pain in his head he noticed that the reason it seemed to be taking John so long was due to the fact that he was staring at Rodney’s nipples. In fact, unless he was imagining things, John looked like he was moments away from licking them. Suddenly the important something he thought he was missing earlier clicked into place and his overheated brain decided abruptly that anything that involved Major Sheppard, himself and his nipples had promising implications. And despite the pain and the circumstances, his cock emphatically agreed with his brain that this was an opportunity that it didn’t want to miss.
John released the clasp on the belt and then paused as he felt Rodney’s cock twitch. He risked a glance up and found Rodney’s gaze, or at least half of it, fixed on him. Rodney didn’t look embarrassed; he looked… intrigued. And hot. Hot in a sweaty Louisiana in August kind of way, more than the usual arrogant yet oddly attractive kind of way. John felt a trickle of sweat run down his throat and watched as Rodney tracked it, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.
John swallowed convulsively, a little shiver of anticipation thrilling down his spine. This is not the time, he reminded himself sternly, forcing himself to look away.
“So,” Rodney said speculatively as John pulled the belt free from Rodney’s pants, “perky, huh?”
“Perky.”
“And is this simply a reflection of a life-long obsession with a variety of nipples or…” Rodney trailed off leaving the question hanging between them.
John shrugged as he finished adding the belt to his makeshift sling and gauged the length, nodding in satisfaction. He grasped Rodney’s left forearm gently and wound the sling underneath. “This might hurt a little.”
Rodney just nodded once and gritted his teeth. John heard him hiss in pain when he brought the belt up across his chest and behind his back, joining the ends on Rodney’s good shoulder. To his surprise, he found himself answering Rodney’s question. “Obsession would be a strong word, let’s call it a preoccupation. And while I have nothing against a variety of nipples, I think I might be particularly fond of yours.” John made sure the belt was well-fastened before pulling back slightly to look at the other man. “Is that a problem for you?”
Rodney gave him a lopsided smile. “Let’s find out,” he said and leaned forward to press his lips against John’s.
John nearly fell over backwards. Never in all the possible scenarios he’d envisioned had he ever considered Rodney kissing him. Rodney pulled back, a puzzled look on his face at John’s lack of response. Regaining his composure, John leaned in for a second kiss, letting his mouth fall open slightly when Rodney licked at his bottom lip. And that was apparently all the encouragement Rodney needed, John was caught in an onslaught of nibbling and sucking until they both had to break apart to breathe.
“So,” John gasped out, “not a problem, I take it?”
Rodney just smiled and leaned in for another kiss. John met him half way and let his right hand trail across Rodney’s chest, running his flat palm over the other man’s nipples. Rodney groaned and ran his free hand up John’s thigh. Naturally at that moment a loud chiming sounded through the room and the door clicked open. John pulled back guiltily as he heard voices in the hall.
“Whoa, nice!” Ford said, letting out a low, appreciative whistle. “You guys found the sauna!”
Author: Barkeep
Rating: R
Warnings: Slashy intent (McShep)
Disclaimer: They're only mine in beer-induced hallucinations...
Notes: Sort of a sequel to last week's voyeurism challenge, Hands , but I think it could stand on it's own. Big smooches to mgbutterfly for giving it a quick once over and keeping me from making any horrible errors. And, of course, any errors left are mine.
Hands, John decided, he could deal with. Hands were safe. Hands weren’t inherently sexual. John longed for the past few weeks when Rodney’s hands were what occupied his subconscious and, on occasion, conscious mind. His misguided attempts to wean himself off his hand fixation had just ended in him noticing other things about Rodney, things he really, really shouldn’t be noticing.
And now, here they were, stuck in a tiny room in a remote part of the city and John couldn’t help but notice the very things he kept telling himself he wasn’t noticing.
Rodney paced tight circles in the small area, shrugging out of his vest and dropping it on one of the low benches that lined the room. “I’m sure they’re looking for us and they’re bound to find us eventually, right? Of course we’ll probably be dead from starvation by then or maybe suffocation. Did you see any air vents?” Rodney glared at John who was pointedly ignoring his tirade. “Are you just going to stand there? We need to figure out a way out of here.”
“Any bright ideas on that front?” John asked, leaning against the soft, vaguely rubbery wall.
Rodney eyed the featureless door panel like he was thinking of running headlong at it… again. “Well, it’s only glass.”
John rolled his eyes and attempted to ignore the fact that the room seemed to be getting warmer. “Look, we’ve tried that already and all we’ve got to show for it are bruises. It may look like glass but it’s got to be at least four inches thick.”
“I don’t see you coming up with any alternative solutions.” Rodney griped.
“We’ve only been in here for a few minutes, I’m sure the others will come looking for us.”
“It’s not the looking for us part that I’m concerned about, it’s the finding us.”
“Well, you’re the genius - think of something.”
Rodney shot him a withering look. “You’re the tactician, figure something out.”
“Fine. How about we cut through the glass with your nipples?” John snapped.
Rodney’s mouth worked soundlessly for a moment before he managed to sputter. “You… my… what?”
“Nipples.” John offered helpfully.
“Are an integral part of your military arsenal how exactly?”
John eyed him speculatively for a moment, lips pursed. “They seemed like they might do the trick.”
“Nipples.” Rodney said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Specifically yours.”
Rodney folded his arms self-consciously across his chest. “What, and I ask this with great trepidation, is so noteworthy about my nipples?”
“They’re always…” John flushed and gestured vaguely with his hand, “nipply.”
“Yes, well, they’re nipples, what would you have them be? Elbowy?”
“No, I mean, they’re always, you know, perky.”
“Perky?”
“Yeah, perky, Christ they’re practically drilling holes through your tee shirt most of the time. So, yeah, perky, hard, erect - whatever.” John stopped abruptly, his mouth snapping shut with an audible click.
“You think my nipples are perky?” Rodney asked.
"Rodney, you could cut diamonds with those things."
"Well, I happen to have sensitive skin, Major, but thank you so much for drawing embarrassing attention to my plight. Perhaps you’d like to discuss why my nipples aren’t the only erect thing in the room right now, hmmm?” Rodney said with a pointed look at Sheppard’s groin.
John didn’t say anything in return; he just looked at Rodney for a moment that seemed to go on forever and Rodney began to get the distinct feeling that he was missing something important.
Rodney finally cleared his throat and broke the silence. “Well. This is possibly the most uncomfortable silence I’ve ever experienced. You?”
John nodded slowly. “It ranks fairly high.”
“Well, as long as we’re on the same page. I think that- take off your pants.”
John blinked. “Okay, I think you just skipped ahead a few chapters.”
“What? No, sorry, I meant take off your belt.” Rodney gestured impatiently, his foot tapping soundlessly on the rubbery floor.
John’s hands automatically reached for his belt and began undoing the buckle. It was definitely not his imagination; it was getting hotter in here by the minute. “What, exactly, have you got in mind here, McKay?”
“Well, since you brilliantly left our packs out in the hall and all of the things that might be useful in getting us out of this room were oh, so conveniently in our packs, I thought-” Rodney stopped abruptly and wiped the sweat off his brow, frowning at the ceiling. “Is it getting hotter in here?”
John shrugged and tossed Rodney his belt. “Yeah. I thought maybe it was just me.”
Rodney examined the belt briefly and then handed it back to John and walked over to one of the benches. “Come on, we haven’t got all day. Unless you have some secret desire to be boiled like a lobster.”
“I wouldn’t call it boiling, it’s just a little humid.”
“Fine, poached like a salmon, then. Come on, get up there and climb on my shoulders.”
John stopped with one foot on the bench and one on the floor. “Climb on your shoulders.”
“Yes, yes, otherwise how will you reach the vent in the ceiling? Or did you want to be on the bottom? Because if so, I’m more than willing to exchange places.”
John found himself at a momentary loss for words because his brain was doing that Technicolor porn thing again with Rodney and his hands and his nipples and now, god help him, there was explicit positioning. “Wait, there’s a vent?”
“Yes, in the center of the room. It’s fairly well hidden; I’m not surprised you didn’t notice it. I think we might be able to loop the belt through the grate and hopefully one of us can crawl through the duct and get out.”
“And by ‘one of us’ you mean me.”
“Naturally.”
“And what if there’s no way out of the ducts?”
“Perhaps the radios will work if you’re able to crawl even a slight distance away from the room. I doubt they shielded the duct-work.”
“Just so you’re aware, I’m not a hundred percent on board with this plan. But,” he continued before Rodney could interrupt, “I don’t see that we have many other choices.”
Three aborted attempts later, John was perched on Rodney’s shoulders as he staggered to a halt in the center of the room. “Steady, McKay.”
“Just hurry up.” Rodney said with strain evident in his voice.
John reached above his head, straining to pass the end of the belt through one of the slim openings in the well-hidden grate. He put one hand on Rodney’s head for balance and stretched, his fingers barely grazing the warm, damp metal. He fumbled with the belt briefly as Rodney shifted beneath him. “Hold still for a second, would you?”
“Easy for you to say.”
“Brace yourself,” John said, digging his toes into Rodney’s back and lunging upward. Less than a minute later the belt was securely looped through the vent grating and he relaxed, settling his weight more evenly on Rodney’s shoulders and removing his hand from Rodney’s head. “Now what?”
“Now, we let gravity help us. Hang on to the belt and pull. If your weight isn’t sufficient then I’ll pull on you.”
“Right.” The room was getting warmer and more humid by the moment and being right under the vent certainly wasn’t helping matters. John tried to wipe the sweat from his hands onto his pants as best he could and wrapped the end of the belt around his hand several times. “Here we go.”
John could feel Rodney brace himself, sweaty and solid underneath John’s thighs. He quickly, aborted that train of thought - they had enough going on without the added problem of John’s dick poking Rodney in the back of the head. He pulled himself up slightly, letting his weight hang from the belt. Rodney was still underneath him but they were barely touching except where Rodney’s hands gripped his calves.
“Anything?” Rodney craned his neck to look up at the vent.
John felt a slight tremor in the belt. “Yeah, I think it might be working. You might want to-”
The rest of his sentence turned into a shout as something gave way and John’s arms came down forcefully, his left elbow driving into Rodney’s upturned face as they collapsed to the floor.
John lay there for a moment, getting his breath back before he propped himself up on one forearm and looked over at Rodney. “You okay?”
“No, I’m not okay. You fell on me!”
“Well, it was your idea.” John replied mildly as he scooted over to Rodney’s side.
“I don’t recall asking you to put my eye out while you were attempting to crush me.”
John sighed as Rodney glared at him with one eye, the other being covered by Rodney’s hand. “Let me see.” With a sigh, Rodney removed his hand and John flinched.
“What? What is it? It’s bad, isn’t it? Is it bleeding?”
“Relax, Rodney, it isn’t bleeding. It’s actually not too bad.” John said, pasting a reassuring smile on his face.
“God, you’re a bad liar. I’m going to need a glass eye, aren’t I? I wonder if Carson thought to bring any. I suppose I could just use an eye patch although I was never a big fan of the pirate look, personally. You could probably carry it off, maybe a parrot on your shoulder, you’re halfway there with that hair.”
“What is it with you and my hair?” John frowned as he batted Rodney’s hand away as he attempted to examine the injured eye. “It’s really not bad, you’re just going to have one hell of a black eye. Wish we had an ice pack, though, it’s probably going to get pretty swollen.”
“Speaking of that, did it work?” Rodney asked, unable to get a clear look at the ceiling from his vantage point.
“Nope.” John held a piece of broken fabric up in front of Rodney’s good eye. “You owe me a belt.” John surveyed the room and then looked back at Rodney who was lying on his back with his eyes closed, his face pale and pinched. “So, any other ideas? Because I hate to be negative but it’s really getting warm in here.”
Rodney didn’t open his eyes but he held out his hand with a sigh. “Help me up."
John grasped his hand and pulled him up to a sitting position. When Rodney listed a bit to one side, John instinctively reached behind him and grasped his other shoulder. Rodney gasped and clamped his mouth shut against a whimper of pain. John let go of the shoulder instinctively and curled his hand around the back of Rodney’s neck instead, feeling the other man’s pulse beat wildly under his fingertips.
“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, shit, that hurts,” Rodney chanted under his breath.
“Your shoulder or your arm?”
“Shoulder, I think.”
“I should probably take a look at it, let’s get your shirt off.”
“And how is that going to help, Dr. Sheppard?” Rodney asked, his voice heavy with sarcasm.
“I can check the swelling, see if anything looks broken and hopefully use the shirt to rig a nice sling for you so it won’t hurt so much.”
Rodney blinked at him and then surprised him by nodding. “That would be good. Not hurting as much would be very, very good.”
“Okay then, here we go, just let me do all the work.” John paused, “Um, I’m going to need my hand.”
“What?” Rodney glanced down at his right hand and seemed surprised to see the death grip he had on John’s own hand. “Sorry,” he said, releasing it from his sweaty grip.
“No problem.” John changed the way he was kneeling in order to brace one leg against Rodney’s back and reached under the hem of Rodney’s shirt. He used one hand to pull the fabric away from the other man’s body and the other hand to work the uninjured arm out of the sleeve. He heard Rodney’s breathing quicken as the fabric of the shirt pulled against his other shoulder. “Okay, now over your head.” John deftly eased the shirt over Rodney’s head and then gently worked it down his left arm.
“Well?” Rodney asked after a long moment of silence.
“Well, I don’t think it’s broken.”
“But…?”
“It looks… wrong.”
Rodney snorted. “Define wrong, please.”
“Wrong. As in not right. Now hold still for a second.” While they had been talking John had been busy fashioning a sort of sling out of Rodney’s tee shirt and his own broken belt. He held it up to Rodney’s body to gauge the size and frowned. “I’m going to need your belt, too.”
John switched positions, being careful not to jostle Rodney in the process. He tried to ignore the fact that the object or objects, to be precise, of his current obsession were inches from his face. So he looked at his hands, which were currently fumbling with Rodney’s belt, which meant he was staring at Rodney’s groin instead and that wasn’t really helping matters any. So he allowed his eyes to wander back up to Rodney’s chest and there they were, perky as always, which was incredible really, given how hot and humid the room had become. John wondered briefly what Rodney would do if he just reached out and licked one. But that would be bad and wrong, John reminded himself sternly. Rodney was hurt, his breath was coming in little gasps that absolutely should not be turning John on right now. Biting his lip, John forced himself to pay attention to what he was doing and looked down at his hands that were still fumbling with the clasp on Rodney’s belt.
Rodney frowned as John fumbled around, wondering how anyone who was so clumsy could become a pilot. Through the buzz of pain in his head he noticed that the reason it seemed to be taking John so long was due to the fact that he was staring at Rodney’s nipples. In fact, unless he was imagining things, John looked like he was moments away from licking them. Suddenly the important something he thought he was missing earlier clicked into place and his overheated brain decided abruptly that anything that involved Major Sheppard, himself and his nipples had promising implications. And despite the pain and the circumstances, his cock emphatically agreed with his brain that this was an opportunity that it didn’t want to miss.
John released the clasp on the belt and then paused as he felt Rodney’s cock twitch. He risked a glance up and found Rodney’s gaze, or at least half of it, fixed on him. Rodney didn’t look embarrassed; he looked… intrigued. And hot. Hot in a sweaty Louisiana in August kind of way, more than the usual arrogant yet oddly attractive kind of way. John felt a trickle of sweat run down his throat and watched as Rodney tracked it, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.
John swallowed convulsively, a little shiver of anticipation thrilling down his spine. This is not the time, he reminded himself sternly, forcing himself to look away.
“So,” Rodney said speculatively as John pulled the belt free from Rodney’s pants, “perky, huh?”
“Perky.”
“And is this simply a reflection of a life-long obsession with a variety of nipples or…” Rodney trailed off leaving the question hanging between them.
John shrugged as he finished adding the belt to his makeshift sling and gauged the length, nodding in satisfaction. He grasped Rodney’s left forearm gently and wound the sling underneath. “This might hurt a little.”
Rodney just nodded once and gritted his teeth. John heard him hiss in pain when he brought the belt up across his chest and behind his back, joining the ends on Rodney’s good shoulder. To his surprise, he found himself answering Rodney’s question. “Obsession would be a strong word, let’s call it a preoccupation. And while I have nothing against a variety of nipples, I think I might be particularly fond of yours.” John made sure the belt was well-fastened before pulling back slightly to look at the other man. “Is that a problem for you?”
Rodney gave him a lopsided smile. “Let’s find out,” he said and leaned forward to press his lips against John’s.
John nearly fell over backwards. Never in all the possible scenarios he’d envisioned had he ever considered Rodney kissing him. Rodney pulled back, a puzzled look on his face at John’s lack of response. Regaining his composure, John leaned in for a second kiss, letting his mouth fall open slightly when Rodney licked at his bottom lip. And that was apparently all the encouragement Rodney needed, John was caught in an onslaught of nibbling and sucking until they both had to break apart to breathe.
“So,” John gasped out, “not a problem, I take it?”
Rodney just smiled and leaned in for another kiss. John met him half way and let his right hand trail across Rodney’s chest, running his flat palm over the other man’s nipples. Rodney groaned and ran his free hand up John’s thigh. Naturally at that moment a loud chiming sounded through the room and the door clicked open. John pulled back guiltily as he heard voices in the hall.
“Whoa, nice!” Ford said, letting out a low, appreciative whistle. “You guys found the sauna!”