Title: Not Enough Blood (No Precious Time Series, 5/28)
Author: The Time Being/SGAtlantisLight
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Genre: Smutty angst, H/C
Rating: NC-17 overall, though some chapters are lower
Author's Notes: Part of the
No Precious Time Series. Beta and encouragement from a lot of people, but especially
lapislaz,
mice1900, and
inkscribe.
Warnings can be found
here for those who can't read without them. These contain plot spoilers so do not read unless you can't live without knowing.
Disclaimer: I own them all! But, alas, not in this universe.
Previous chapter "God gave men both a penis and a brain, but unfortunately not enough blood supply to run both at the same time." - Robin Williams
Rodney paused as the sound of something halfway between a sob and a gasp reached his ears. He turned slowly, silently, looking for the source of the sound. There it was again. He spun around and saw the door to a balcony, just barely ajar.
He quietly pushed it open and stepped out, just opening his mouth to ask whoever was out here whether they were okay. Rodney froze, jaw dropping.
John knelt, silhouetted half-naked against the sky, head thrown back, one hand gripping his cock, stroking wildly, while the other curled around behind, two fingers buried in his ass. John let out a low moan and his cock pulsed, semen striping his fingers and thighs.
Rodney swallowed hard. Just enough blood was left in his brain to tell him staying here was a bad idea. He tried to concentrate enough to walk and stumbled through the door and back inside. If John heard him, he didn't say anything.
And if Carson had any objections to a surprise visit to his office in the middle of the afternoon, he didn't say anything either, but merely clung to Rodney desperately as their bodies joined and moved together until his fingers tightened on Rodney's shoulders and he released between them, until Rodney had poured himself into him, until they were kissing and murmuring and tears were sliding down his face.
"Are you okay?" Rodney asked as Carson buried his face against his shoulder.
"One of the former slaves died earlier this afternoon."
Rodney's arms tightened around Carson. "How?"
"Honestly? Too much pain."
"God! I'm so sorry."
Carson nodded, seeming to curl closer to him. "I'm just glad you're here."
***
John blinked at the report and realised he'd just read the same sentence for the third time in a row and he still didn't know what it said. The other man sitting in the room loomed too large in his awareness, every movement and exhalation and thoughtful hum magnified. The scent of him curled around the room, spicy and warm and... something-- the same something he kept sensing with Carson and Rodney.
Something that made John want to taste him, touch him, slowly explore the cartography of his skin, discover all those secret places where...
John stood suddenly. Lorne looked up in alarm.
"I've, uh, got to go," John explained.
Lorne gave him a sympathetic look. "Of course, sir. Take your time."
John wondered how sympathetic Lorne would be if he knew the images that dropped through John's mind when he was nearby.
***
"Just imagine what it would be like," Carson whispered, then slowly kissed the nape of Rodney's neck. Rodney rocked back into his lap, settling onto his cock. Carson held Rodney's hip with one hand, guiding his motion, while slipping the other down to curl around Rodney's erection. He leaned forward and breathed into Rodney's ear. "He'd be fucking your arse, holding you just like this, while I sucked your cock..."
"Oh, God!" Rodney moaned.
"Maybe I'd even slip my fingers back and circle your hole, feel how he was buried inside you, play with his balls..."
"Oh, yeah..."
Carson bit slowly down on Rodney's shoulder while he let his fingers wander back and touch where Rodney was stretched around him. "You’d be so stretched and full from him, from his cock inside you."
Rodney whimpered, grinding down against him.
"Hold still, love," Carson said, tightening his grip on Rodney's hip. "Just let me play with you, talk to you..."
Rodney's breath stuttered. "Okay. I'll try."
"There's a love." Carson closed his eyes, trying to keep himself still as he slid his fingers down, sliding against his own shaft, and then up again to circle Rodney's entrance, tracing along his perineum and to his balls, slowly rolling them in his hand, feeling Rodney tense. "You can hear him breathing hard in your ear, almost feel his pulse, and you want him so bad, want him to move, to fuck you..."
"God, yes!" Rodney hissed.
"And then his hand wraps around your cock, sliding up and down, up and down, as I take the head back into my mouth and suck you in rhythm..."
Rodney laid his head back on Carson's shoulder, panting.
"Do ye want him to fuck you?"
"Yes! God, please, yes!"
"Come for me, love, and then I'll let him fuck you..." Rodney shuddered. Carson's strokes grew faster and harder. "Come for me... Just let go and give it all up."
"Ah, God," Rodney gasped, body trembling from the effort not to move. "Fuck! Just a little-- God, yes!"
Rodney's body tensed and then his cock was throbbing in Carson's hand, body spasming around Carson inside him. Carson gasped and then pushed, rolling them both forward, staying inside Rodney all the way. He slammed forward, eliciting a soft oof from Rodney, burying himself to the hilt. "Ye want John to fuck you now?" he growled.
Rodney nodded, beyond words.
Carson pulled almost all the way out and surged forward again, biting his lip at the intense pleasure of feeling Rodney open up so completely to him. He grabbed Rodney's shoulders, pulling back on them each time his hips snapped forward. "Take him. Let him have you."
Rodney responded automatically, pushing back and rocking forward as Carson's hands on his shoulders guided him. "I'm yours," he groaned.
Carson was already losing all semblance of rhythm, lost in the hot, giving flesh of his lover. "Take it..."
"Yeah. I'm yours, all yours... Oh, God, John!"
Carson grunted, pulling back on Rodney hard as he pushed forward into him, deeper, deeper, harder, God, God, God! And he was throbbing, hard and deep and so good it almost hurt.
He came back to himself, draped over Rodney's back, softening cock still inside. He started to move, but Rodney reached back and grabbed a thigh. "Stay there."
Moving by inches, Rodney slowly settled onto the mattress, keeping Carson inside him. "I don't know if I can stay hard enough to be in you all night, love."
"Just think of John," Rodney answered, a smile in his voice, pulling Carson's arms forward to wrap around himself.
Carson chuckled and kissed the back of his neck. "That might work."
"Oh, I know it will. Thinking of him on his knees, sucking you..."
Carson groaned, feeling his cock twitch. "Bloody git."
"Or maybe you prefer imagining you fucking him, hard and deep..."
Carson pushed forward, silencing his lover. "Enough already."
"Mmmm," Rodney sighed appreciatively, wiggling against him.
Carson lay holding him, feeling Rodney slowly relax into sleep beneath him. "Rodney?"
"Hmmm?"
"Did you really mean it?"
"Mean what?" Rodney asked sleepily.
"That you were his."
"What?"
"While I was taking you, you said, 'I'm yours, all yours-- ah, John,' or something like it. Did you mean it?"
Rodney tensed underneath him. "Of course not. I'm with you."
"Are you sure?"
"Carson!" Rodney moved, breaking apart their bodies, and turning over to look at him, hands reaching out to cup his face. "I love you. Okay?"
"And ye don't love him? I mean, as more than a friend."
Was there just a fraction of a second of hesitation? "Of course not."
Carson smiled, kissing Rodney. "Okay. I'm sorry." He looked into Rodney's eyes and felt like he could fall into them. "I love you, too."
"Of course you do," Rodney said, his voice gruff, but still strangely gentle. "Now go to sleep."
Carson pulled Rodney close, curled against him, closed his eyes and dropped off to sleep.
But his dreams were haunted by hazel eyes blinking open, meeting his, and the taste of John Sheppard's kiss.
***
"See you guys later," Sheppard's voice reached Steven's ears. He paused and looked down the crossing corridor to see two men emerging from Sheppard's quarters. He glanced down at his watch and frowned and turned to walk toward Sheppard.
The two men smiled suggestively at him as they passed. He nodded politely and looked away. "Colonel Sheppard, if I could have a word with you."
Sheppard paused in the doorway, looking wary. "Colonel Caldwell. You're up early this morning."
Caldwell nodded. "I'm still operating on Daedalus time."
"Ah." Sheppard crossed his arms defensively. He was in loose sweatpants and a tee shirt, but still barefooted.
Caldwell considered his words for a moment. "Sheppard, I understand and can sympathise with what you've gone through. I know what it's like to not be in control. I also understand you're still under the influence of this alien virus... but... Well, to be honest, I believe some of your men are likely to have... issues with your choice of... relief."
Sheppard's eyes flicked over Steven's shoulder to where his two companions had disappeared. "What are you suggesting, Colonel? Or are you threatening?"
"I'm suggesting, Colonel, that you maintain the standards of behaviour expected of an officer of the United States military. And if that isn't feasible, that you ask yourself whether you should be serving as military commander while under the influence of this viral agent."
He'd expected Sheppard's usual defiance-- pleasant and charming, smirky, but still defiant-- or perhaps anger and belligerence. Instead, Sheppard flinched and looked down, shoulders hunched. "I'm trying, sir."
He'd been bracing for an argument. He didn't know how to respond to this. "Oh. Well, then... Um... Keep trying."
Sheppard's eyes glanced up and, in that brief second, he was struck by the amount of pain and fear and desperation there, then the other man was looking away. "Thank you, sir."
He nodded gruffly, turned and walked away.
***
It had been too long, with Lorne's scent curling around him, enticing and seductive. John had had to jerk off twice and it just wasn't doing it anymore. So he'd called up the infirmary and talked to Amaro. Now he paced his quarters, head pounding and body aflame with pain and he needed Amaro here now, goddammit.
His door slid open and he pounced, not hearing what was said, not seeing who it was, just needing. He grabbed and pushed the other man against the wall and slotted his body against him, perfect, perfect, perfect. His mouth descended, swallowing words he couldn't understand in his desperation, swallowing the surprised squeak, swallowing the moan that came after when he thrust his hand into the other man's pants and palmed his hardening cock, hot and heavy and right, so right.
The other man's scent wrapped around him, coffee and ozone and a warm, homey something indefinable.
He slid his tongue against the other man's lips, just tasting, nipping with his teeth, and then followed it down to chin and jaw and throat, while the other man panted and gasped. "I need to suck you," he breathed into the other man's ear.
"Oh, God!" the other man groaned, and John dropped to his knees.
John pulled his partner's pants open and cock out with desperate speed. He wasted no time on finesse, but quickly took it in all the way, till his nose was pressed against the other man's body, pubic hairs tickling his nostrils. He moaned at the taste, closing his eyes and shuddering. Yes, yes, this was what he needed.
He pressed one arm across the other man's body, holding him steady against the wall, while he used his free hand to undo his own fly, pulling his leaking cock out.
"C-c... John, we c--"
He sucked, drawing back, making the other man gasp and shudder, till only the head was in his mouth. For a moment, he paused, wanting to draw this out and make it good for his partner, but he couldn't. He needed this man coming down his throat right now.
He bobbed forward, sucking and licking, and relaxed his throat again, shuddering and moaning again as he felt the cock push deep into his throat.
He zoned out, fitting his breathing to the rhythm of his mouth around the other man's cock, his hand wrapped around his own erection taking up the same beat. He lost himself in the sensation of his mouth full of cock, the taste of pre-come on his tongue, the scent of the other man's arousal, the slide of his hand on his erection.
And then there were fingers tangling in his hair, guiding him, encouraging him, his name being repeated over and over like a prayer and he felt like he could stay in this place forever. The pain was receding, forgotten, overwhelmed by the pleasure.
Suddenly, the grip on his hair tightened. "Fuck! John! Oh, God!" his partner gasped.
He surged forward as the cock throbbed inside his mouth, the flavour of the warm, musky fluid overwhelming him. His own cock pulsed, covering his hand with semen. He hung there between the twin sensations of his mouth being filled and his cock emptied until the other man shuddered, gasped, and pushed him away.
He blinked, taking in the sight of dark grey trainers, splattered with semen. He followed the body up, past the cock hanging obscenely out of black trousers, and up to the red and sweat-sheened face, mouth gaping and blue eyes wide with shock. "Oh my God! Fuck! I am a dead man."
"I'm s--"
"No, Colonel, don't say anything. I don't... I can't... God! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" All this was said while tucking and zipping and straightening clothes. "I've got to go!"
"Wait! Rodney, wait!" he called, but the other man was out the door and gone. John flopped over onto the floor and curled in on himself. "What the hell have I done?"
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