Fic: Shadowing the Surface (SGA John/Rodney NC-17)
Title: Shadowing the Surface
Author: tigerlady (shetiger)
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: P for Porny
Spoilers: None. Set post-Ronon. *g*
Summary: They've learned to take the unexpected gifts, no matter how strangely shaped the package.
Notes: Er, yeah. I assure you, there are jaws in here. *g* Thanks to kagey for her encouragement.
"Sir," Lorne snapped out from the bottom of the stairs, eyes carefully aimed to the left of John's own, only a salute missing to make it a proper, formal greeting. A salute, and the lack of the laughing smirk dancing across Lorne's face.
"Major," he replied, putting a little arch into his voice, but it was no use. Lorne simply nodded like he didn't have a care in the world. John sighed and headed on up to the conference room. Some days he really regretted his laissez-faire command style; he'd gotten nothing but smirks and sly glances all morning, with one anonymous catcall behind his back, and he knew it'd only get worse throughout the day.
Everyone else was already in the conference room. Rodney was bent over his laptop, staring at the screen like he was trying to see through to the other side. Zelenka glanced up as he came in and then immediately looked back down at his own laptop. And Elizabeth...
"Nice hickey," she said, repressed laughter making her voice quiver. Rodney's head shot up at her words, eyes zeroing in on John's neck like laser sights. Elizabeth cocked an eyebrow. "I didn't know you were seeing anyone, Colonel."
"Hah, hah," he said, wondering who her snitch was. He was betting on Teyla, the little minx. "I take it you've heard the story already."
Elizabeth sat forward, clasping her hands on the table. She grinned like she had canary feathers sticking out of the corners of her mouth. "Oh, but we need to hear your side of it to get the full picture."
John glanced at Rodney, who was looking at him like...something. John wasn't sure what was going on in Rodney's head, which was never a good feeling. He sighed and took a seat, resisting the urge to rub at the large purple mark on his neck. It wasn't even all that mouth-shaped, for Christ's sake.
"It's not that big of a deal. We were training, Ronon got carried away."
"Doing what, demonstrating how to become a cannibal?" Zelenka asked in his dry little voice.
"It was more like a titty-twister. On my neck," he shot back. It had hurt like hell at the time, too, pretty much taking him out of the fight long enough that he would have been dead in a real situation. It was a dirty trick. One he was going to master as soon as possible.
"Titty-twister? I do not know that one."
"O-kay," Elizabeth broke in. "Time for some actual work, people. Rodney? You wanted to show us something?"
"Hmm, what? Oh yes, right." Rodney started and looked away from John's neck, returning to his computer screen. "Right, right. The database compression algorithm."
John sighed. It was going to be a long day.
************
John groaned as he pushed off his shoes, the relief as much psychological as physical. He was more than ready for this day to be over. The teasing and knowing glances had mostly died off after dinner, but he'd had more than his fill by then. He flopped back on his bed, debating whether to bother with anything else on his to-do list before he fell asleep.
Then somebody knocked on his door. John sighed and shoved himself up so he could open it.
Rodney was standing there, looking a little too nervous for John's comfort zone.
"Can I come in?" he asked.
John leaned against the door frame and waved at his neck. "Why, so you can start in on the Captain Kirk jokes?"
Rodney rolled his eyes. "Yes, because I made a special trip over here just for that."
"I wouldn't put it past you," John muttered as he stepped back. He hit the lock as soon as the door slid shut behind Rodney, then propped his butt on the edge of his desk. "What's up?"
Rodney was fidgeting, his hands making nervous passes over each other as he glanced around the room, avoiding John altogether. John had to reach for those hands, stilling them between his own. Rodney finally looked at him, thank God.
"Rodney?"
Rodney pulled his left hand free and reached toward John's neck, but stopped short of actually touching him. "Does it hurt?"
John shook his head. "Nah. I mean, it did at the time, but I hardly even notice it now. Or I wouldn't, if people didn't keep pointing it out to me."
Rodney nodded absently. Then his fingers landed, light as cotton fluff on a breeze, and John shivered.
"God, John. I want-" He cut himself with a loud, hard swallow. "Can I?"
Rodney's fingers pressed into his skin, and John went hard so fast it hurt as he figured out what Rodney was asking. They had an all expense-paid ticket, a get out of jail free card, and John wasn't about to let it expire.
"Fuck, yes," he said, and pulled Rodney in for a quick kiss. They were both breathing hard when they parted, anticipation revving them up more than usual. He tipped his head back, ready for Rodney to just go at it, but Rodney stepped back, shaking his head.
"I won't be able to stop," he said. He sat down on John's bed and methodically removed his shoes and socks, setting them under the chair, before he started stripping.
John watched, enjoying the sight of more and more of Rodney's body being revealed, but hating it at the same time. One day, he wanted to be able to fling their clothing aside without worrying about tell-tale rumples and the danger of missing socks. One day, he wanted to be able to make Rodney come in his pants, to rut against Rodney's leg until their uniforms were come-stained and sweaty and smelled like them together.
"Well, are you just going to stand around all day?" Rodney asked as he set his folded pants on top of his boxers. "I realize that you're not as smart as I am, but that usually hasn't been an impediment in the past."
John grinned and shucked out of his clothes, letting them fall willy-nilly on the floor, taking advantage of the fact they were in his own room.
"Shut up, Rodney," he said, and climbed onto the bed.
Rodney sprawled out next to him, and for a few minutes they just reveled in the warmth of each other, the slow, slipping grind of chest hair into chest hair as they brushed against each other, the slide of soft skin on skin. Then Rodney pushed John flat on his back, half-climbing on top, and started tracing the bruise with his fingers.
"Be careful," John couldn't help warning, "a lot of people have been staring at it today."
"I will," Rodney promised. He dipped his head, and John tensed, half in anticipation, half in instinctual fear, but Rodney only breathed on his skin, a hot burn that had John bucking up against Rodney's leg and whimpering pitifully.
"Shhhh," Rodney hissed in his ear. "Easy."
"Fuck, you're killing me here, Rodney."
He could feel Rodney's smile against his skin. John wrapped the leg that wasn't pinned by Rodney's weight around Rodney's thigh, grabbed a handful of Rodney's ass, and then pulled and pushed at the same time. Rodney grunted as their cocks ground into each other. John continued to thrust slowly as Rodney turned his head so they could kiss, soft and sloppy and deep.
"What do you like?" Rodney asked quietly, his voice breaking just the slightest bit. "I mean, I know what you like, obviously. But do you want me to suck? Or do you like it rough?"
John groaned, then clamped his back teeth together to control the sound. "God, Rodney, whatever you want. Please."
Rodney kissed him once more, quick and hard, then tipped John's chin to the side with a firm finger. John felt his open mouth hot and wet against his skin, lips moving softly. Measuring the fit.
John whimpered again. Rodney's fingers curled hard on his biceps. He let go quickly, remembering himself before John had to break the mood and warn him.
"John," Rodney said, the sound vibrating into his skin, into his muscle, all the way through and out the other side-and then Rodney struck. A hard, bruising bite that rode the edge of pain and fear, not nearly enough to draw blood but enough to make John flash on images of animals in the wild, crushing the life out of their victims by the strength of their jaws. He writhed with the pleasure and curled into Rodney, afraid that it had gone on too long, wanting it to never stop.
And then it did. Rodney pulled back, licking his lips and staring at his work.
"Don't stop," John begged before he thought better of it. Thankfully, Rodney didn't take him at his word. Instead, he slid down the bed and took John's cock deep. This, at least, they didn't have to worry about. Rodney's mouth was hot as hell, even hotter than it had been on his neck, and now he was using the suction he'd forgone earlier. It didn't take much, just a few hard, wet pulls, and John was coming in fast, clenching bursts.
Rodney waited until John settled down to mere twitches, then pulled off. John fumbled a hand towards Rodney's dick, meeting Rodney's hand, and they worked him together. It was fast and hard and too dry, but even if he'd managed to smuggle more lube out from under Beckett's nose this week, John didn't think that Rodney would want him taking time to go for it now. Sweat was beading up on Rodney's face, curling the edges of his hair. John strained upwards so that he could mouth Rodney's Adam's apple, pressing so very lightly with his teeth.
Rodney came. All over John's stomach, hot and slippery, and his cock twitched in muted empathy. John let go when Rodney did. He moved to the side so that Rodney could crash down without crushing him.
After a while, Rodney propped himself up on his elbow and stared down at John's neck.
"Well?" John asked, sick worry trying to creep up now that the thrill of the moment had passed. "How does it look?"
Rodney frowned. "It's a little darker, I think. But not enough to be noticeable. Maybe if we got some ice?"
Which would mean one of them sneaking out to find some ice. He sighed and drew Rodney back down. "No, don't worry about it."
"You sure?"
John nodded. The fear was beaten down by the little fluttering thought of everyone seeing Rodney's mark tomorrow, and not knowing what they were seeing. "Oh, yeah," he said. "I'm sure."
Author: tigerlady (shetiger)
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: P for Porny
Spoilers: None. Set post-Ronon. *g*
Summary: They've learned to take the unexpected gifts, no matter how strangely shaped the package.
Notes: Er, yeah. I assure you, there are jaws in here. *g* Thanks to kagey for her encouragement.
"Sir," Lorne snapped out from the bottom of the stairs, eyes carefully aimed to the left of John's own, only a salute missing to make it a proper, formal greeting. A salute, and the lack of the laughing smirk dancing across Lorne's face.
"Major," he replied, putting a little arch into his voice, but it was no use. Lorne simply nodded like he didn't have a care in the world. John sighed and headed on up to the conference room. Some days he really regretted his laissez-faire command style; he'd gotten nothing but smirks and sly glances all morning, with one anonymous catcall behind his back, and he knew it'd only get worse throughout the day.
Everyone else was already in the conference room. Rodney was bent over his laptop, staring at the screen like he was trying to see through to the other side. Zelenka glanced up as he came in and then immediately looked back down at his own laptop. And Elizabeth...
"Nice hickey," she said, repressed laughter making her voice quiver. Rodney's head shot up at her words, eyes zeroing in on John's neck like laser sights. Elizabeth cocked an eyebrow. "I didn't know you were seeing anyone, Colonel."
"Hah, hah," he said, wondering who her snitch was. He was betting on Teyla, the little minx. "I take it you've heard the story already."
Elizabeth sat forward, clasping her hands on the table. She grinned like she had canary feathers sticking out of the corners of her mouth. "Oh, but we need to hear your side of it to get the full picture."
John glanced at Rodney, who was looking at him like...something. John wasn't sure what was going on in Rodney's head, which was never a good feeling. He sighed and took a seat, resisting the urge to rub at the large purple mark on his neck. It wasn't even all that mouth-shaped, for Christ's sake.
"It's not that big of a deal. We were training, Ronon got carried away."
"Doing what, demonstrating how to become a cannibal?" Zelenka asked in his dry little voice.
"It was more like a titty-twister. On my neck," he shot back. It had hurt like hell at the time, too, pretty much taking him out of the fight long enough that he would have been dead in a real situation. It was a dirty trick. One he was going to master as soon as possible.
"Titty-twister? I do not know that one."
"O-kay," Elizabeth broke in. "Time for some actual work, people. Rodney? You wanted to show us something?"
"Hmm, what? Oh yes, right." Rodney started and looked away from John's neck, returning to his computer screen. "Right, right. The database compression algorithm."
John sighed. It was going to be a long day.
************
John groaned as he pushed off his shoes, the relief as much psychological as physical. He was more than ready for this day to be over. The teasing and knowing glances had mostly died off after dinner, but he'd had more than his fill by then. He flopped back on his bed, debating whether to bother with anything else on his to-do list before he fell asleep.
Then somebody knocked on his door. John sighed and shoved himself up so he could open it.
Rodney was standing there, looking a little too nervous for John's comfort zone.
"Can I come in?" he asked.
John leaned against the door frame and waved at his neck. "Why, so you can start in on the Captain Kirk jokes?"
Rodney rolled his eyes. "Yes, because I made a special trip over here just for that."
"I wouldn't put it past you," John muttered as he stepped back. He hit the lock as soon as the door slid shut behind Rodney, then propped his butt on the edge of his desk. "What's up?"
Rodney was fidgeting, his hands making nervous passes over each other as he glanced around the room, avoiding John altogether. John had to reach for those hands, stilling them between his own. Rodney finally looked at him, thank God.
"Rodney?"
Rodney pulled his left hand free and reached toward John's neck, but stopped short of actually touching him. "Does it hurt?"
John shook his head. "Nah. I mean, it did at the time, but I hardly even notice it now. Or I wouldn't, if people didn't keep pointing it out to me."
Rodney nodded absently. Then his fingers landed, light as cotton fluff on a breeze, and John shivered.
"God, John. I want-" He cut himself with a loud, hard swallow. "Can I?"
Rodney's fingers pressed into his skin, and John went hard so fast it hurt as he figured out what Rodney was asking. They had an all expense-paid ticket, a get out of jail free card, and John wasn't about to let it expire.
"Fuck, yes," he said, and pulled Rodney in for a quick kiss. They were both breathing hard when they parted, anticipation revving them up more than usual. He tipped his head back, ready for Rodney to just go at it, but Rodney stepped back, shaking his head.
"I won't be able to stop," he said. He sat down on John's bed and methodically removed his shoes and socks, setting them under the chair, before he started stripping.
John watched, enjoying the sight of more and more of Rodney's body being revealed, but hating it at the same time. One day, he wanted to be able to fling their clothing aside without worrying about tell-tale rumples and the danger of missing socks. One day, he wanted to be able to make Rodney come in his pants, to rut against Rodney's leg until their uniforms were come-stained and sweaty and smelled like them together.
"Well, are you just going to stand around all day?" Rodney asked as he set his folded pants on top of his boxers. "I realize that you're not as smart as I am, but that usually hasn't been an impediment in the past."
John grinned and shucked out of his clothes, letting them fall willy-nilly on the floor, taking advantage of the fact they were in his own room.
"Shut up, Rodney," he said, and climbed onto the bed.
Rodney sprawled out next to him, and for a few minutes they just reveled in the warmth of each other, the slow, slipping grind of chest hair into chest hair as they brushed against each other, the slide of soft skin on skin. Then Rodney pushed John flat on his back, half-climbing on top, and started tracing the bruise with his fingers.
"Be careful," John couldn't help warning, "a lot of people have been staring at it today."
"I will," Rodney promised. He dipped his head, and John tensed, half in anticipation, half in instinctual fear, but Rodney only breathed on his skin, a hot burn that had John bucking up against Rodney's leg and whimpering pitifully.
"Shhhh," Rodney hissed in his ear. "Easy."
"Fuck, you're killing me here, Rodney."
He could feel Rodney's smile against his skin. John wrapped the leg that wasn't pinned by Rodney's weight around Rodney's thigh, grabbed a handful of Rodney's ass, and then pulled and pushed at the same time. Rodney grunted as their cocks ground into each other. John continued to thrust slowly as Rodney turned his head so they could kiss, soft and sloppy and deep.
"What do you like?" Rodney asked quietly, his voice breaking just the slightest bit. "I mean, I know what you like, obviously. But do you want me to suck? Or do you like it rough?"
John groaned, then clamped his back teeth together to control the sound. "God, Rodney, whatever you want. Please."
Rodney kissed him once more, quick and hard, then tipped John's chin to the side with a firm finger. John felt his open mouth hot and wet against his skin, lips moving softly. Measuring the fit.
John whimpered again. Rodney's fingers curled hard on his biceps. He let go quickly, remembering himself before John had to break the mood and warn him.
"John," Rodney said, the sound vibrating into his skin, into his muscle, all the way through and out the other side-and then Rodney struck. A hard, bruising bite that rode the edge of pain and fear, not nearly enough to draw blood but enough to make John flash on images of animals in the wild, crushing the life out of their victims by the strength of their jaws. He writhed with the pleasure and curled into Rodney, afraid that it had gone on too long, wanting it to never stop.
And then it did. Rodney pulled back, licking his lips and staring at his work.
"Don't stop," John begged before he thought better of it. Thankfully, Rodney didn't take him at his word. Instead, he slid down the bed and took John's cock deep. This, at least, they didn't have to worry about. Rodney's mouth was hot as hell, even hotter than it had been on his neck, and now he was using the suction he'd forgone earlier. It didn't take much, just a few hard, wet pulls, and John was coming in fast, clenching bursts.
Rodney waited until John settled down to mere twitches, then pulled off. John fumbled a hand towards Rodney's dick, meeting Rodney's hand, and they worked him together. It was fast and hard and too dry, but even if he'd managed to smuggle more lube out from under Beckett's nose this week, John didn't think that Rodney would want him taking time to go for it now. Sweat was beading up on Rodney's face, curling the edges of his hair. John strained upwards so that he could mouth Rodney's Adam's apple, pressing so very lightly with his teeth.
Rodney came. All over John's stomach, hot and slippery, and his cock twitched in muted empathy. John let go when Rodney did. He moved to the side so that Rodney could crash down without crushing him.
After a while, Rodney propped himself up on his elbow and stared down at John's neck.
"Well?" John asked, sick worry trying to creep up now that the thrill of the moment had passed. "How does it look?"
Rodney frowned. "It's a little darker, I think. But not enough to be noticeable. Maybe if we got some ice?"
Which would mean one of them sneaking out to find some ice. He sighed and drew Rodney back down. "No, don't worry about it."
"You sure?"
John nodded. The fear was beaten down by the little fluttering thought of everyone seeing Rodney's mark tomorrow, and not knowing what they were seeing. "Oh, yeah," he said. "I'm sure."