Fic: Unrequited (NC-17)
Title: Unrequited
Author: SGAtlantisLight
Characters: McKay, Sheppard, Zelenka, Beckett
Relationships: Sort of McKay/Sheppard
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Angst, smut
Spoilers: Reference to Conversion
Summary: Rodney decides. Not in any way associated with the Broken Series. Sorry. Written in a couple hours, not betaed.
Disclaimer: The characters, the setting, etc. are NOT mine, even if I wish they were.
Antarctica had been easier. Oh, there hadn't been any sex there either, but at least when he got a rather obvious erection from staring too long into those so-blue-they-have-to-be-CGI eyes he could simply pull his sweater down and no one was the wiser. He'd done a lot of sweater adjusting in Antarctica.
Rodney ran his hand down his chest, swirling fingers through chest hair, wishing there were other hands, and on down to his cock, feeling the soft silkiness of the skin overlaying the hardness. He stroked it a couple times, then gathered the droplet forming at the tip.
Here on Atlantis, sweaters were rarely appropriate. The lab coats helped, but he couldn't wear one all the time.
He raised the pre-cum slickened finger to his tongue, licking it off, tasting himself, imagining tasting himself in another man's kiss.
He'd given Carson the "I'm gay" confession finally, hoping, but knowing it was a vain hope, that the Scottish doctor would utter a similar confession, relieved to find a kindred spirit. Instead, Carson had given him a soft, sympathetic look.
He slid one saliva-slicked finger around a nipple, raising the bud to hardness. Oh, God, he wanted a mouth there.
Even then, in a fit of bone-weary fatigue and aching loneliness, he'd once offered Carson a blowjob and half his remaining chocolate.
He slid the other hand down and cupped his balls, feeling the familiar weight of them. He squeezed them gently, exploring their familiar geography.
Carson had been understanding. "Rodney, please. I'm sorry, I'm straight."
He flipped open the lube and coated the finger he'd been teasing his nipple with and slid it between his legs, finding the puckered hole there and slicking himself. He imagined the gasp of pleasure was not his own, but another voice, aroused at the sight of him.
"Why are you sorry you're straight? I'm not sorry I'm gay," he'd snarked back. But it hadn't been true. He hadn't chosen this, would never have chosen this gaping emptiness.
He slid one finger in and began a slow rhythm, stretching himself, wanting to do this for a lover, preparing himself.
There was another set of eyes on Atlantis that made his heart pound whenver he looked into them. He could never decide whether they were green or hazel. They shifted with the man's moods.
He added a second finger, avoiding touching himself there. No, not yet...
He'd thought he'd seen the last of those eyes more often than he cared to name. The last time had been the hardest, for the eyes had changed with Sheppard's body.
He added a third finger, trembling at how it stretched him. He thrust into himself, finding the sweet spot and fingered it slowly, feeling the thrill of it shiver through him.
When it had all been over, he had found himself before Sheppard's door, not remembering why he'd come. The door had slid open and Sheppard was there, alive, whole, himself. "McKay?" he'd asked. And Rodney had enveloped him in a desperate embrace.
He began stroking his cock, breathing in rhythm to his strokes on his cock and his thrusts inside himself with his fingers, imagining a cock inside him, filling him.
He'd known it was a moronic thing to do. Which made it all the more surprising when Sheppard yanked him into his quarters, thought the door shut, pushed him up against the nearest wall, and covered his mouth with kisses as desperate and needy as his own. His body had been hard, hot, solid against him. His hands as he slid them up under Rodney's shirt had been rough and warm and, oh, God. His thigh had slid between Rodney's legs and he'd pressed it to Rodney's erection, even as he thrust himself against Rodney's thigh.
He was close... he was oh, so close... He slowed down, trying to draw out the pleasure.
Rodney had cried out his name and as if he'd awoken, John froze and pulled back. "I can't do this, Rodney. I'm sorry."
He squeezed his balls just hard enough to cool the fire that was building within him.
Sheppard had kissed him once more, desperately, when Rodney had asked why. "Because I want you, Rodney. Not just for tonight. And I can't have you." The sadness and loneliness in John's eyes had torn him apart. John had put his fingers on Rodney's mouth, stilling his protests. "If we did this tonight, I could never stop. Oh, God, I want you... but not like this..."
He began slowly stroking himself again, thinking of a mouth on his cock, taking him deeper and deeper.
Radek had found him, flushed and needy, in the science lab trying to take his mind off green-hazel eyes and the solidity of Sheppard in his arms. Radek's hand had been warm on his arm. "Can I help?" he asked, a tone to his voice that Rodney had never heard before. Rodney had turned to see the knowledge, the desire, and the offer in those storm-blue eyes. He remembered the disappointment in them when he'd begged off.
He was poised on the edge now, hands moving in swift jerks, head falling back, letting the feelings take him.
John Sheppard had decided to come to Atlantis based on a coin toss. Rodney had thought that insane until he'd explained it. If you were happy with the result, then you went with it. If you were unhappy, then you knew what your true feelings were and went with your true feeling. This, tonight, was a sort of coin toss. He wanted to know... needed to know... Wait or take what was offered now.
He gritted his teeth as the heat spread from his belly and into his ass, down his cock and exploded in hot, wet, white pleasure. "John!" he screamed as his semen coated his hand and belly, as his ass muscled clenched around his fingers. He slid fingers out of himself, bonelessly spreading out on the bed.
John.
His mind touched the name as his fingers would explore some Ancient device, learned it, knew it.
John.
And he knew it was the truth in his heart.
He fumbled the earpiece onto his ear and clicked the radio on. "McKay to Sheppard."
"Sheppard here. What did you need, McKay?"
You, he thought. "I just needed to tell you..." He swallowed. "I'll wait. Okay? Till you're ready. Till we can."
"Rodney." A thousand words filled up those two syllables.
"I'll wait. It's okay."
And it was.
Because, well...
John.
Author: SGAtlantisLight
Characters: McKay, Sheppard, Zelenka, Beckett
Relationships: Sort of McKay/Sheppard
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Angst, smut
Spoilers: Reference to Conversion
Summary: Rodney decides. Not in any way associated with the Broken Series. Sorry. Written in a couple hours, not betaed.
Disclaimer: The characters, the setting, etc. are NOT mine, even if I wish they were.
Antarctica had been easier. Oh, there hadn't been any sex there either, but at least when he got a rather obvious erection from staring too long into those so-blue-they-have-to-be-CGI eyes he could simply pull his sweater down and no one was the wiser. He'd done a lot of sweater adjusting in Antarctica.
Rodney ran his hand down his chest, swirling fingers through chest hair, wishing there were other hands, and on down to his cock, feeling the soft silkiness of the skin overlaying the hardness. He stroked it a couple times, then gathered the droplet forming at the tip.
Here on Atlantis, sweaters were rarely appropriate. The lab coats helped, but he couldn't wear one all the time.
He raised the pre-cum slickened finger to his tongue, licking it off, tasting himself, imagining tasting himself in another man's kiss.
He'd given Carson the "I'm gay" confession finally, hoping, but knowing it was a vain hope, that the Scottish doctor would utter a similar confession, relieved to find a kindred spirit. Instead, Carson had given him a soft, sympathetic look.
He slid one saliva-slicked finger around a nipple, raising the bud to hardness. Oh, God, he wanted a mouth there.
Even then, in a fit of bone-weary fatigue and aching loneliness, he'd once offered Carson a blowjob and half his remaining chocolate.
He slid the other hand down and cupped his balls, feeling the familiar weight of them. He squeezed them gently, exploring their familiar geography.
Carson had been understanding. "Rodney, please. I'm sorry, I'm straight."
He flipped open the lube and coated the finger he'd been teasing his nipple with and slid it between his legs, finding the puckered hole there and slicking himself. He imagined the gasp of pleasure was not his own, but another voice, aroused at the sight of him.
"Why are you sorry you're straight? I'm not sorry I'm gay," he'd snarked back. But it hadn't been true. He hadn't chosen this, would never have chosen this gaping emptiness.
He slid one finger in and began a slow rhythm, stretching himself, wanting to do this for a lover, preparing himself.
There was another set of eyes on Atlantis that made his heart pound whenver he looked into them. He could never decide whether they were green or hazel. They shifted with the man's moods.
He added a second finger, avoiding touching himself there. No, not yet...
He'd thought he'd seen the last of those eyes more often than he cared to name. The last time had been the hardest, for the eyes had changed with Sheppard's body.
He added a third finger, trembling at how it stretched him. He thrust into himself, finding the sweet spot and fingered it slowly, feeling the thrill of it shiver through him.
When it had all been over, he had found himself before Sheppard's door, not remembering why he'd come. The door had slid open and Sheppard was there, alive, whole, himself. "McKay?" he'd asked. And Rodney had enveloped him in a desperate embrace.
He began stroking his cock, breathing in rhythm to his strokes on his cock and his thrusts inside himself with his fingers, imagining a cock inside him, filling him.
He'd known it was a moronic thing to do. Which made it all the more surprising when Sheppard yanked him into his quarters, thought the door shut, pushed him up against the nearest wall, and covered his mouth with kisses as desperate and needy as his own. His body had been hard, hot, solid against him. His hands as he slid them up under Rodney's shirt had been rough and warm and, oh, God. His thigh had slid between Rodney's legs and he'd pressed it to Rodney's erection, even as he thrust himself against Rodney's thigh.
He was close... he was oh, so close... He slowed down, trying to draw out the pleasure.
Rodney had cried out his name and as if he'd awoken, John froze and pulled back. "I can't do this, Rodney. I'm sorry."
He squeezed his balls just hard enough to cool the fire that was building within him.
Sheppard had kissed him once more, desperately, when Rodney had asked why. "Because I want you, Rodney. Not just for tonight. And I can't have you." The sadness and loneliness in John's eyes had torn him apart. John had put his fingers on Rodney's mouth, stilling his protests. "If we did this tonight, I could never stop. Oh, God, I want you... but not like this..."
He began slowly stroking himself again, thinking of a mouth on his cock, taking him deeper and deeper.
Radek had found him, flushed and needy, in the science lab trying to take his mind off green-hazel eyes and the solidity of Sheppard in his arms. Radek's hand had been warm on his arm. "Can I help?" he asked, a tone to his voice that Rodney had never heard before. Rodney had turned to see the knowledge, the desire, and the offer in those storm-blue eyes. He remembered the disappointment in them when he'd begged off.
He was poised on the edge now, hands moving in swift jerks, head falling back, letting the feelings take him.
John Sheppard had decided to come to Atlantis based on a coin toss. Rodney had thought that insane until he'd explained it. If you were happy with the result, then you went with it. If you were unhappy, then you knew what your true feelings were and went with your true feeling. This, tonight, was a sort of coin toss. He wanted to know... needed to know... Wait or take what was offered now.
He gritted his teeth as the heat spread from his belly and into his ass, down his cock and exploded in hot, wet, white pleasure. "John!" he screamed as his semen coated his hand and belly, as his ass muscled clenched around his fingers. He slid fingers out of himself, bonelessly spreading out on the bed.
John.
His mind touched the name as his fingers would explore some Ancient device, learned it, knew it.
John.
And he knew it was the truth in his heart.
He fumbled the earpiece onto his ear and clicked the radio on. "McKay to Sheppard."
"Sheppard here. What did you need, McKay?"
You, he thought. "I just needed to tell you..." He swallowed. "I'll wait. Okay? Till you're ready. Till we can."
"Rodney." A thousand words filled up those two syllables.
"I'll wait. It's okay."
And it was.
Because, well...
John.