Fic: The risks we take (McKay/Sheppard, NC-17)
Title: The risks we take
Author: syndelar
Recipient: darkmoore
Pairing: John Sheppard/Rodney McKay
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine. Damn it.
Author's Notes: I had so many pretty prompts to choose from, but in the end this one story bit and wouldn't let go. But, it has friends to lovers, first time and a happy end. I tried not to be too sugary with it, too. Post The Siege Pt.3 Hope you like it and happy holidays. ^_^
Summary: Knowing his luck, he'd probably hit his head on the way down, suffer a concussion and then he'd be on bed rest for god knows how long. No, it is better if he saves himself the pain and embarrassment and just goes to bed.
*
By the time Rodney even thinks about going back to bed and try at getting some much needed sleep he's so bone tired he doubts he actually can fall asleep. He briefly entertains the idea of just continuing to work until he collapses, but that would have the consequence of getting lectured by both Elizabeth and Beckett, getting teased by Sheppard and Zelenka and being mildly reprimanded by Teyla. Besides, knowing his luck, he'd probably hit his head on the way down, suffer a concussion and then he'd be on bed rest for who knows how long. No, it is better if he saves himself the pain and embarrassment and just goes to bed.
He hasn't seen Sheppard in hours, hasn't even been in the vicinity of him (he knows because he has this freakish sense of where Sheppard is in relation to him; there's probably an equation to it, Rodney just hasn't figured it out yet) and Rodney's not even sure if he wants to see him or not. He's thankfully numb enough from the exhaustion so he doesn't go insane chasing the thoughts of the last few days around his head, but he's not sure what he would do if he saw Sheppard at that precise moment. Punching him in the face is a distinct possibility, followed by a screaming rant he wouldn't even remember later and he's too fucking tired to bother.
He heads to his room, slowly and carefully so he doesn't tip over because everything around him is swaying softly. He focuses on thinking the equations that translate kinematic variables of distance, displacement, velocity and acceleration to analyze motion in a straight line. He sticks to the parametric equations because he just didn't have enough braincells that were awake enough to deal with spacetime. He almost misses the door to his room, he's so focused on getting there and there it takes him a moment to figure out just how to open them.
The light is on though it's barely bright enough to see much and there is someone in his bed, head buried under Rodney's pillow, but he would recognize Sheppard anywhere. Rodney stands there, at the foot of the bed and stares at him, at the tiny sliver of skin visible at the small of his back and he wants to put his mouth there, wants to wake him up and ask him just why he's in Rodney's bed or punch him in the face, he can't decide which. In the end he does none of those but rubs at his face, takes a deep breath and then squeezes in next to Sheppard on the too tight bed. He's too tired to deal right now. Rodney tries to focus on the feel of Sheppard against his back, trying to memorize it, but he falls asleep before he can.
*
When Rodney wakes up sometime in the late afternoon, Sheppard is long gone. There's no note and Rodney would think he hallucinated him, but he trusts his brain more than anything and his fantasies are generally more elaborate and explicit.
If Sheppard needs anything he'll find Rodney again, so Rodney takes a long, hot shower, puts on some clean clothes and goes in search of food and coffee before going back to the lab. He gets lost in his work, the constant back and forth with Zelenka, shouting at the morons who call themselves scientists and fixing up Atlantis.
It's dark and quiet in the lab. He sent everyone to bed hours ago because they were making even more mistakes than usual, when Sheppard finally makes an appearance. He's slow and hesitant and quiet and Rodney ignores him, keeps his mouth shut because he's afraid of all the things he might say and keeps his eyes on the screen even though the numbers no longer make any sense. He can feel Sheppard's eyes on him, can hear the even sound of his breathing and it makes him angry all over again, that Sheppard can carry on like nothing happened, like Rodney's universe hasn't changed and--
"What were you thinking?" Rodney manages through clenched teeth without turning around. So much for keeping quiet.
"Rodney--" Sheppard starts but Rodney cuts him off.
"No, really. I want to know what the hell you were thinking when you decided to fly that jumper. I want to know why you couldn't trust me enough too--"
"Rodney. Rodney, stop." And there's so much in Sheppard's voice, but he doesn't care, he's on a roll, gathering momentum.
"No. No. Because you-- I watched you die. You died. I watched you die because I wasn't good enough to--" and Rodney can feel himself still talking, but Sheppard's lips are in the way and when did he manage to get so close? Sheppard presses him back against the table, plasters himself against Rodney's front and kisses him harder, all tongue and desperation. Rodney grabs at him, pulls him even closer and kisses back, bites his lip, tastes blood. Because this is the part that scared him the most, that Sheppard - John - would get killed before Rodney got to kiss him because he wasn't good enough to keep him alive.
So he pushes John a step back, turns them around so that John is now leaning against the table and gets down on his knees. He's too old for kneeling on the hard floor, but if it means that he gets a to taste John he'll gladly take it. Rodney makes quick work of John's pants, even before John can get a word in. Sheppard is hot and hard in his hand and leaking like crazy.
"Rodney, you don't have to," Sheppard says and in response Rodney leans in and licks him all over, tasting bitterness and salt and breathing deeply because he feels like he's going to jump out of his own skin. This wasn't what he had in mind when he woke up today, but he's not going to complain.
He opens his mouth and takes him in and moans at the same time as John because this is perfect and he's so hard himself. A hand cups the back of his head, not forcing, just holding, but Rodney leans in and takes him in deeper. It's been a while, but this is John and he's still angry and slightly panicked because he never thought they'd get here, so he goes down and down, not all the way, but deep enough to feel it later, to stretch his jaw to the limit and just breathes for moment.
Above him John is moaning quietly and Rodney wonders what it would take to make him shout, to make him lose himself in Rodney, to bind him to Rodney so that he'd never risk himself in such a way again. But he knows Sheppard, knows that years of military repression have made him quiet and that it's in his nature to throw himself into any danger without any regard for his own safety, so the only thing Rodney can do is give him himself.
"You can fuck my mouth, you know," Rodney tells him smugly before going back down on him. John's hand tightens at the nape of his neck and his hips push forward uncontrollably.
"Jesus Rodney," Sheppard says and comes in Rodney's mouth. Rodney swallows and leans back, knows he looks smug, but he can't help himself. He just made Sheppard come. He doesn't even care that he's still hard and uncomfortable, but then John sinks down on his knees in front of Rodney and kisses him, licks the taste of himself off Rodney's kips and sticks a hand in his pants. Rodney pushes into it and it's only a few thrusts before he's coming too, surrounded by John, his taste and his smell.
They stay that way for a few moments, catching their breaths before Rodney realizes just how uncomfortable he is. He groans and makes move to get up.
"This was such a bad idea," he groans out and he can feel John stiffen. Rodney rolls his eyes. "Not us, you moron, doing this on the floor. We should have been doing this in a nice comfortable bed, because, seriously, I'm way too old for kneeling on--" John cuts him off with a kiss, a nice, slow one with barely any tongue and Rodney would call it perfect if he weren't trying to say something. "I'm still angry with you," he says and John stiffens again. "So maybe you should start by apologizing and then you can take me to bed and make it up to me." John takes a step back so they're not touching anymore and Rodney feels cold all of a sudden because the expression on John's face is one of guilt and remorse.
"It's my job Rodney." Rodney goes to him and smacks him upside the head before kissing him.
"I know it's your job, you idiot. I'm just saying that you should maybe let the genius try and fix the problem before you go and blow yourself up. Please." John looks at him for a nerve-wracking moment before nodding. "Good. Now can we go to bed because everything hurts and you need to be making this up to me."
"Yeah. Let's go Rodney."
Author: syndelar
Recipient: darkmoore
Pairing: John Sheppard/Rodney McKay
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine. Damn it.
Author's Notes: I had so many pretty prompts to choose from, but in the end this one story bit and wouldn't let go. But, it has friends to lovers, first time and a happy end. I tried not to be too sugary with it, too. Post The Siege Pt.3 Hope you like it and happy holidays. ^_^
Summary: Knowing his luck, he'd probably hit his head on the way down, suffer a concussion and then he'd be on bed rest for god knows how long. No, it is better if he saves himself the pain and embarrassment and just goes to bed.
*
By the time Rodney even thinks about going back to bed and try at getting some much needed sleep he's so bone tired he doubts he actually can fall asleep. He briefly entertains the idea of just continuing to work until he collapses, but that would have the consequence of getting lectured by both Elizabeth and Beckett, getting teased by Sheppard and Zelenka and being mildly reprimanded by Teyla. Besides, knowing his luck, he'd probably hit his head on the way down, suffer a concussion and then he'd be on bed rest for who knows how long. No, it is better if he saves himself the pain and embarrassment and just goes to bed.
He hasn't seen Sheppard in hours, hasn't even been in the vicinity of him (he knows because he has this freakish sense of where Sheppard is in relation to him; there's probably an equation to it, Rodney just hasn't figured it out yet) and Rodney's not even sure if he wants to see him or not. He's thankfully numb enough from the exhaustion so he doesn't go insane chasing the thoughts of the last few days around his head, but he's not sure what he would do if he saw Sheppard at that precise moment. Punching him in the face is a distinct possibility, followed by a screaming rant he wouldn't even remember later and he's too fucking tired to bother.
He heads to his room, slowly and carefully so he doesn't tip over because everything around him is swaying softly. He focuses on thinking the equations that translate kinematic variables of distance, displacement, velocity and acceleration to analyze motion in a straight line. He sticks to the parametric equations because he just didn't have enough braincells that were awake enough to deal with spacetime. He almost misses the door to his room, he's so focused on getting there and there it takes him a moment to figure out just how to open them.
The light is on though it's barely bright enough to see much and there is someone in his bed, head buried under Rodney's pillow, but he would recognize Sheppard anywhere. Rodney stands there, at the foot of the bed and stares at him, at the tiny sliver of skin visible at the small of his back and he wants to put his mouth there, wants to wake him up and ask him just why he's in Rodney's bed or punch him in the face, he can't decide which. In the end he does none of those but rubs at his face, takes a deep breath and then squeezes in next to Sheppard on the too tight bed. He's too tired to deal right now. Rodney tries to focus on the feel of Sheppard against his back, trying to memorize it, but he falls asleep before he can.
*
When Rodney wakes up sometime in the late afternoon, Sheppard is long gone. There's no note and Rodney would think he hallucinated him, but he trusts his brain more than anything and his fantasies are generally more elaborate and explicit.
If Sheppard needs anything he'll find Rodney again, so Rodney takes a long, hot shower, puts on some clean clothes and goes in search of food and coffee before going back to the lab. He gets lost in his work, the constant back and forth with Zelenka, shouting at the morons who call themselves scientists and fixing up Atlantis.
It's dark and quiet in the lab. He sent everyone to bed hours ago because they were making even more mistakes than usual, when Sheppard finally makes an appearance. He's slow and hesitant and quiet and Rodney ignores him, keeps his mouth shut because he's afraid of all the things he might say and keeps his eyes on the screen even though the numbers no longer make any sense. He can feel Sheppard's eyes on him, can hear the even sound of his breathing and it makes him angry all over again, that Sheppard can carry on like nothing happened, like Rodney's universe hasn't changed and--
"What were you thinking?" Rodney manages through clenched teeth without turning around. So much for keeping quiet.
"Rodney--" Sheppard starts but Rodney cuts him off.
"No, really. I want to know what the hell you were thinking when you decided to fly that jumper. I want to know why you couldn't trust me enough too--"
"Rodney. Rodney, stop." And there's so much in Sheppard's voice, but he doesn't care, he's on a roll, gathering momentum.
"No. No. Because you-- I watched you die. You died. I watched you die because I wasn't good enough to--" and Rodney can feel himself still talking, but Sheppard's lips are in the way and when did he manage to get so close? Sheppard presses him back against the table, plasters himself against Rodney's front and kisses him harder, all tongue and desperation. Rodney grabs at him, pulls him even closer and kisses back, bites his lip, tastes blood. Because this is the part that scared him the most, that Sheppard - John - would get killed before Rodney got to kiss him because he wasn't good enough to keep him alive.
So he pushes John a step back, turns them around so that John is now leaning against the table and gets down on his knees. He's too old for kneeling on the hard floor, but if it means that he gets a to taste John he'll gladly take it. Rodney makes quick work of John's pants, even before John can get a word in. Sheppard is hot and hard in his hand and leaking like crazy.
"Rodney, you don't have to," Sheppard says and in response Rodney leans in and licks him all over, tasting bitterness and salt and breathing deeply because he feels like he's going to jump out of his own skin. This wasn't what he had in mind when he woke up today, but he's not going to complain.
He opens his mouth and takes him in and moans at the same time as John because this is perfect and he's so hard himself. A hand cups the back of his head, not forcing, just holding, but Rodney leans in and takes him in deeper. It's been a while, but this is John and he's still angry and slightly panicked because he never thought they'd get here, so he goes down and down, not all the way, but deep enough to feel it later, to stretch his jaw to the limit and just breathes for moment.
Above him John is moaning quietly and Rodney wonders what it would take to make him shout, to make him lose himself in Rodney, to bind him to Rodney so that he'd never risk himself in such a way again. But he knows Sheppard, knows that years of military repression have made him quiet and that it's in his nature to throw himself into any danger without any regard for his own safety, so the only thing Rodney can do is give him himself.
"You can fuck my mouth, you know," Rodney tells him smugly before going back down on him. John's hand tightens at the nape of his neck and his hips push forward uncontrollably.
"Jesus Rodney," Sheppard says and comes in Rodney's mouth. Rodney swallows and leans back, knows he looks smug, but he can't help himself. He just made Sheppard come. He doesn't even care that he's still hard and uncomfortable, but then John sinks down on his knees in front of Rodney and kisses him, licks the taste of himself off Rodney's kips and sticks a hand in his pants. Rodney pushes into it and it's only a few thrusts before he's coming too, surrounded by John, his taste and his smell.
They stay that way for a few moments, catching their breaths before Rodney realizes just how uncomfortable he is. He groans and makes move to get up.
"This was such a bad idea," he groans out and he can feel John stiffen. Rodney rolls his eyes. "Not us, you moron, doing this on the floor. We should have been doing this in a nice comfortable bed, because, seriously, I'm way too old for kneeling on--" John cuts him off with a kiss, a nice, slow one with barely any tongue and Rodney would call it perfect if he weren't trying to say something. "I'm still angry with you," he says and John stiffens again. "So maybe you should start by apologizing and then you can take me to bed and make it up to me." John takes a step back so they're not touching anymore and Rodney feels cold all of a sudden because the expression on John's face is one of guilt and remorse.
"It's my job Rodney." Rodney goes to him and smacks him upside the head before kissing him.
"I know it's your job, you idiot. I'm just saying that you should maybe let the genius try and fix the problem before you go and blow yourself up. Please." John looks at him for a nerve-wracking moment before nodding. "Good. Now can we go to bed because everything hurts and you need to be making this up to me."
"Yeah. Let's go Rodney."