SLASH FIC: [Stargate: Atlantis] His Bodyguard - Chapter 2 (2/2) (R)
Wrapping up the last chapter of the main story, which was split across two posts due to livejournal word-limit restrictions.
Title: His Bodyguard
Author: Soraya
Rating: R
Genre: Slash, First Time, AU
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Disclaimer: Not mine, Wright, Cooper and others own Stargate Atlantis
Warnings: Contains descriptions of male/male sexual activity
Summary: John's ability to piss people off gets him everything he needs out of life
Chapter Two (2/2)
Continued from Chapter Two (1/2)
He finally got the answers he wanted when McKay returned from Washington a few days later.
McKay seemed surprised to see him, at first, sitting in his living room right there on his couch. But after both of their respective details took one look at each other and then decided to leave them to it, McKay seemed to get quite agitated. "What are you doing here?" McKay pointed at him accusingly. "This had better not be another one of your drills! Also, aren't you supposed to be recovering? Why are you even out of Medical?"
"Gee, Rodney, I don't know," John drawled, getting up and walking over. "Maybe if someone hadn't run off, leaving a bunch of people to spy on me, then I wouldn't have had to come here to get some answers!"
McKay's eyes widened all of a sudden before skittering away, and the way they darted toward the door had him veering to one side to block the escape route.
"What did you do in Washington, Rodney?" he continued in a deceptively mild tone of voice.
"Nothing!" bluffed McKay. "What makes you think I did anything there?"
"Rodney," John growled, taking another step forward, and McKay promptly admitted:
"All right, fine! I may have let slip to some very influential people that you were critical to the development of certain projects I'm working on. And that given said criticality to our planet's defence, it was appropriate that you should have a threat rating that was commensurate to mine."
"Rodney!"
"What?" And McKay actually had the gall to sound irritated; John couldn't believe it.
"Look, it's not that I don't appreciate your concern," he said, because, honestly, he did! McKay was one of the few people, who genuinely gave a damn about him. "It's just I have a job to do, which is to run your protection detail. And I can't do that job with a detail of my own. So, just get it removed and we'll call it even. Okay?"
"No."
"No?"
"Do you have any idea the mountain of red tape I had to go through?" McKay sniffed, lifting his chin. "Thankfully, Senator Clarkson-who adores you, by the way-was kind enough to cut through most of it for me. And since she also agreed with me that your reckless proclivities could be put to better use heading up the SGC's F-302 program, once you've recovered, your new job will be to roll out fighter jets reverse engineered from Goa'uld technology. Assuming, of course, you like the sound of that?"
At this point, John didn't think his legs would hold him up any more. By going to Mitch's grandma, Rodney had effectively landed him his dream assignment, and with both of them conspiring together, John felt like the wind had been taken out of his sails.
He staggered back to the couch, staggered at the lengths McKay had gone to. And as he crumpled down onto it, it occurred to him that unless he was reading this wrong, McKay seemed to have a hell of a lot invested in his happiness.
Then, he looked up into wide blue eyes that were watching him with unease.
Rodney wasn't just invested in his happiness, he realized; Rodney was committed to it, and prepared to go well out of his way to secure it. And connecting these dots into a whole new picture, he could barely contain the joy that was fluttering in his stomach, especially after Rodney shuffled over to stand right in front of him.
"You do like the sound of that, don't you?" Rodney's voice shook a fraction. "I mean, that is what you've always wanted isn't it: the chance to fly stupidly fast planes and to be an astronaut and do lots of stupid things?"
John nodded; it was what he'd always wanted, ever since he was a little boy.
"Okay, good!" Rodney patted him on the shoulder, looking relieved at first, and then pleased. "Plus, you haven't even heard the best part yet," and by then Rodney was practically beaming. "The senator made sure the F-302 program reports directly into her oversight committee. So, with the command position you've got, guys like Everett won't be able to touch you now."
And even he got that Rodney was actually telling him: '*I* won't let anyone touch you!' Because Rodney was clearly on a mission to take care of him; he could see that now. And apparently his dreams of having a future with Rodney weren't so unattainable after all.
He thought about their friendship thus far, about the pots of home-made sun-screen protection factor 2000 that were sitting in his locker, and about how Rodney always put his welfare first whilst somehow always making sure he had the coolest assignments. And as Rodney went on describing the various fail-safes he'd put in place to protect him from Everett and every other CO who'd even looked at him funny during his career, slowly, that feeling of joy spread right the way through his chest.
"You know, I would have said 'yes'," he murmured seemingly out of nowhere, making Rodney stutter to a stop. "If you'd asked me out on a date," he explained at the puzzled look Rodney gave him. "Instead of getting me my own flight program, or whatever else it is you think I want," and he grabbed the hand Rodney had been waving in front of him and held it gently, very serious all of a sudden. "I would have said 'yes', Rodney. To you. Any time. You do get that, don't you?"
Rodney certainly seemed to, if his stunned expression was anything to go by.
He watched Rodney smile then, and let himself do the same, feeling his face flush as Rodney laced their fingers together. And although neither of them said anything for some time, Rodney kept glancing furtively at him, before looking away.
He seemed to be struggling with something, or more accurately gearing himself up for something; John could see it in the tilt of his chin and the way Rodney struggled to meet his eyes whenever he glanced down.
Rather than ask what was bothering him, John decided to wait. Whatever it was, he knew Rodney wouldn't be able to hold back for long.
Sure enough, Rodney soon blurted out: "Aren't you supposed to be in bed? I have a great prescription mattress if you need to lie down."
John barely managed to choke back a snort of laughter, because that had to be the worst pick up line he'd ever heard.
"Laugh all you want, Sheppard, but that line is actually working on you!" And as Rodney stood over him, red-faced and smirking, John was vaguely surprised to realize that it was.
He wasn't going to go down without a fight, though, not when Rodney was practically radiating smugness. So, he leant back in his seat and drawled, "Plan on doing anything about it?" making it as much of a challenge as he could.
Moments later, he had to bite back a whimper as Rodney's eyes gleamed.
***
They didn't make it anywhere near that mattress for some time.
Rodney decided to help him move from the couch to said mattress, and that version of help involved a lot of touching-to his chest, his shoulders and to the side of his neck. Only, somewhere between Rodney bending down and him curling both arms round Rodney's waist, one of Rodney's hands slid into his hair while the other stroked along his lower back. And somehow that led to the sort of slow, deep kissing where Rodney had him stretched out on top of him, with one thigh pressed between both of his, and where he was rocking helplessly onto that thigh and shuddering with pleasure, going slowly out of his mind.
"Rodney," he panted, after lifting his mouth away. And he kept trying to catch his breath, trying to think as Rodney mouthed his way along his jaw and up to his ear.
"Everything okay?" Rodney asked him, before drawing his teeth gently over the sensitive skin below his ear.
"Yeah," John nodded, still struggling for air. He clutched at Rodney's shoulders, shivering at the feel of Rodney's lips on his throat. Then, he let out an embarrassingly loud moan as Rodney slid one hand down inside the back of his boxers.
"Come on, I've got you," Rodney told him, cupping the back of his neck with the other, using it to draw him in.
And Jesus, he knew Rodney had power and control issues, but he'd never quite imagined it would translate into this. He tipped his head up, following Rodney's lead, opening his mouth for Rodney's tongue and sucking desperately on it. And when Rodney stroked two fingers between his buttocks and rubbed him there, circling again and again over his opening, he could feel himself start to lose it.
Wrenching his mouth free, he grunted, "Rodney," low and harsh, hips juddering down. And even though part of him was shocked at the way he was basically humping Rodney's thigh, he wasn't sure he could stop himself even if he'd wanted to.
He turned his face into Rodney's shoulder and started biting at it, trying to muffle the sounds he couldn't hold in any more. But the hand in his hair pulled him away, drawing his head up for Rodney to whisper, "Don't hide from me," right in his ear. "I want to hear you, John, to see you . . ." And something in him shattered then, because he couldn't say no to Rodney, not when Rodney was trembling under him, sounding almost as wrecked as he was.
"Rodney, please," he whispered, closing his eyes for a moment. "Please, I need-" he hitched up to meet those circling fingers, then shivered back down, hips working as those warm, sweet bursts of pleasure kept curling through his stomach. And on his next hitch up, Rodney gave him what he needed and pressed inside him, pressing one finger in as deep as it could go.
Gasping, John hunched over with pleasure, and all he could do for several long moments was lie there, panting into Rodney's throat while he shuddered and came in thick, slow spurts, soaking the front of his BDUs with come.
***
Later, after Rodney had helped him clean up, and once they were curled up in bed facing each other, John really started to understand how far Rodney's control issues ran in the bedroom.
"I can't believe you won't let me do anything for you," and while he made sure he sounded casual, he was actually pushing.
Rodney, on the other hand, still looked guilty about making out with him in the first place. "We're not going any further until your doctor clears you for more vigorous activity," he murmured. "And don't try to tempt me with your masculine wiles; I won't give in, not where your health is concerned."
At this point, John decided that he needed to brush up on those wiles, because clearly they weren't getting the job done, even though he hadn't been trying that hard.
"At least we don't need background checks before we go out for dinner!" Rodney beamed at him all of a sudden, looking quite smug.
"Rodney-" John pushed himself up on one elbow, worried Rodney thought he could relax now that they were together.
But Rodney very quickly disabused him of that notion. "Look, if this is about me needing to maintain my security, then I agree with you wholeheartedly," Rodney told him, stroking one hand down his chest. "Also, you were right all along: you never know what people may be hiding unless you check up on them. Take Miko, for instance. It turns out she heads up the Colorado chapter of 'The Mer-maids'. Can you believe that?"
"I'm sorry, the what?" John cocked his head to one side.
"'The Mer-maids'," Rodney said again. When he raised an eyebrow, Rodney added, "My oestrogen brigade. Surely you've heard of them?"
John shook his head because, no, he had not. "Why do they call themselves-?"
"That part's not important," Rodney cut in, rather sharply in his opinion-making him realize that it probably was. "The important thing," Rodney stressed, "is that, as a fan base, they're very loyal but incredibly over-zealous in their attempts to interact with me. Which is why I need a lot of protection."
"From mermaids." John wanted to be clear about that.
"Not mermaids," snapped Rodney, "'The Mer-Maids'!" And for some reason, Rodney seemed to think the hyphenation and capitalization would make it seem less ridiculous.
"Any other sea creatures from your past I should know about?" He tried to say it using his serious command voice, to imbue those words with the gravitas they deserved.
Rodney, who apparently knew him far too well, just sputtered before rolling over with an annoyed little huff.
John bit the inside of his cheek, smirking. He could tell from the set of Rodney's shoulders that Rodney wasn't really angry with him. Still, taking the opportunity, he put his hands on them and started kneading them gently, wondering all the while how Rodney was going to retaliate.
The last time he'd seriously pissed Rodney off, Rodney had dropped a protection detail on him and had then had him promoted. Worst case scenario, he was pretty sure he would be on his way to General before the year was through.
The End.
Title: His Bodyguard
Author: Soraya
Rating: R
Genre: Slash, First Time, AU
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Disclaimer: Not mine, Wright, Cooper and others own Stargate Atlantis
Warnings: Contains descriptions of male/male sexual activity
Summary: John's ability to piss people off gets him everything he needs out of life
Chapter Two (2/2)
Continued from Chapter Two (1/2)
He finally got the answers he wanted when McKay returned from Washington a few days later.
McKay seemed surprised to see him, at first, sitting in his living room right there on his couch. But after both of their respective details took one look at each other and then decided to leave them to it, McKay seemed to get quite agitated. "What are you doing here?" McKay pointed at him accusingly. "This had better not be another one of your drills! Also, aren't you supposed to be recovering? Why are you even out of Medical?"
"Gee, Rodney, I don't know," John drawled, getting up and walking over. "Maybe if someone hadn't run off, leaving a bunch of people to spy on me, then I wouldn't have had to come here to get some answers!"
McKay's eyes widened all of a sudden before skittering away, and the way they darted toward the door had him veering to one side to block the escape route.
"What did you do in Washington, Rodney?" he continued in a deceptively mild tone of voice.
"Nothing!" bluffed McKay. "What makes you think I did anything there?"
"Rodney," John growled, taking another step forward, and McKay promptly admitted:
"All right, fine! I may have let slip to some very influential people that you were critical to the development of certain projects I'm working on. And that given said criticality to our planet's defence, it was appropriate that you should have a threat rating that was commensurate to mine."
"Rodney!"
"What?" And McKay actually had the gall to sound irritated; John couldn't believe it.
"Look, it's not that I don't appreciate your concern," he said, because, honestly, he did! McKay was one of the few people, who genuinely gave a damn about him. "It's just I have a job to do, which is to run your protection detail. And I can't do that job with a detail of my own. So, just get it removed and we'll call it even. Okay?"
"No."
"No?"
"Do you have any idea the mountain of red tape I had to go through?" McKay sniffed, lifting his chin. "Thankfully, Senator Clarkson-who adores you, by the way-was kind enough to cut through most of it for me. And since she also agreed with me that your reckless proclivities could be put to better use heading up the SGC's F-302 program, once you've recovered, your new job will be to roll out fighter jets reverse engineered from Goa'uld technology. Assuming, of course, you like the sound of that?"
At this point, John didn't think his legs would hold him up any more. By going to Mitch's grandma, Rodney had effectively landed him his dream assignment, and with both of them conspiring together, John felt like the wind had been taken out of his sails.
He staggered back to the couch, staggered at the lengths McKay had gone to. And as he crumpled down onto it, it occurred to him that unless he was reading this wrong, McKay seemed to have a hell of a lot invested in his happiness.
Then, he looked up into wide blue eyes that were watching him with unease.
Rodney wasn't just invested in his happiness, he realized; Rodney was committed to it, and prepared to go well out of his way to secure it. And connecting these dots into a whole new picture, he could barely contain the joy that was fluttering in his stomach, especially after Rodney shuffled over to stand right in front of him.
"You do like the sound of that, don't you?" Rodney's voice shook a fraction. "I mean, that is what you've always wanted isn't it: the chance to fly stupidly fast planes and to be an astronaut and do lots of stupid things?"
John nodded; it was what he'd always wanted, ever since he was a little boy.
"Okay, good!" Rodney patted him on the shoulder, looking relieved at first, and then pleased. "Plus, you haven't even heard the best part yet," and by then Rodney was practically beaming. "The senator made sure the F-302 program reports directly into her oversight committee. So, with the command position you've got, guys like Everett won't be able to touch you now."
And even he got that Rodney was actually telling him: '*I* won't let anyone touch you!' Because Rodney was clearly on a mission to take care of him; he could see that now. And apparently his dreams of having a future with Rodney weren't so unattainable after all.
He thought about their friendship thus far, about the pots of home-made sun-screen protection factor 2000 that were sitting in his locker, and about how Rodney always put his welfare first whilst somehow always making sure he had the coolest assignments. And as Rodney went on describing the various fail-safes he'd put in place to protect him from Everett and every other CO who'd even looked at him funny during his career, slowly, that feeling of joy spread right the way through his chest.
"You know, I would have said 'yes'," he murmured seemingly out of nowhere, making Rodney stutter to a stop. "If you'd asked me out on a date," he explained at the puzzled look Rodney gave him. "Instead of getting me my own flight program, or whatever else it is you think I want," and he grabbed the hand Rodney had been waving in front of him and held it gently, very serious all of a sudden. "I would have said 'yes', Rodney. To you. Any time. You do get that, don't you?"
Rodney certainly seemed to, if his stunned expression was anything to go by.
He watched Rodney smile then, and let himself do the same, feeling his face flush as Rodney laced their fingers together. And although neither of them said anything for some time, Rodney kept glancing furtively at him, before looking away.
He seemed to be struggling with something, or more accurately gearing himself up for something; John could see it in the tilt of his chin and the way Rodney struggled to meet his eyes whenever he glanced down.
Rather than ask what was bothering him, John decided to wait. Whatever it was, he knew Rodney wouldn't be able to hold back for long.
Sure enough, Rodney soon blurted out: "Aren't you supposed to be in bed? I have a great prescription mattress if you need to lie down."
John barely managed to choke back a snort of laughter, because that had to be the worst pick up line he'd ever heard.
"Laugh all you want, Sheppard, but that line is actually working on you!" And as Rodney stood over him, red-faced and smirking, John was vaguely surprised to realize that it was.
He wasn't going to go down without a fight, though, not when Rodney was practically radiating smugness. So, he leant back in his seat and drawled, "Plan on doing anything about it?" making it as much of a challenge as he could.
Moments later, he had to bite back a whimper as Rodney's eyes gleamed.
***
They didn't make it anywhere near that mattress for some time.
Rodney decided to help him move from the couch to said mattress, and that version of help involved a lot of touching-to his chest, his shoulders and to the side of his neck. Only, somewhere between Rodney bending down and him curling both arms round Rodney's waist, one of Rodney's hands slid into his hair while the other stroked along his lower back. And somehow that led to the sort of slow, deep kissing where Rodney had him stretched out on top of him, with one thigh pressed between both of his, and where he was rocking helplessly onto that thigh and shuddering with pleasure, going slowly out of his mind.
"Rodney," he panted, after lifting his mouth away. And he kept trying to catch his breath, trying to think as Rodney mouthed his way along his jaw and up to his ear.
"Everything okay?" Rodney asked him, before drawing his teeth gently over the sensitive skin below his ear.
"Yeah," John nodded, still struggling for air. He clutched at Rodney's shoulders, shivering at the feel of Rodney's lips on his throat. Then, he let out an embarrassingly loud moan as Rodney slid one hand down inside the back of his boxers.
"Come on, I've got you," Rodney told him, cupping the back of his neck with the other, using it to draw him in.
And Jesus, he knew Rodney had power and control issues, but he'd never quite imagined it would translate into this. He tipped his head up, following Rodney's lead, opening his mouth for Rodney's tongue and sucking desperately on it. And when Rodney stroked two fingers between his buttocks and rubbed him there, circling again and again over his opening, he could feel himself start to lose it.
Wrenching his mouth free, he grunted, "Rodney," low and harsh, hips juddering down. And even though part of him was shocked at the way he was basically humping Rodney's thigh, he wasn't sure he could stop himself even if he'd wanted to.
He turned his face into Rodney's shoulder and started biting at it, trying to muffle the sounds he couldn't hold in any more. But the hand in his hair pulled him away, drawing his head up for Rodney to whisper, "Don't hide from me," right in his ear. "I want to hear you, John, to see you . . ." And something in him shattered then, because he couldn't say no to Rodney, not when Rodney was trembling under him, sounding almost as wrecked as he was.
"Rodney, please," he whispered, closing his eyes for a moment. "Please, I need-" he hitched up to meet those circling fingers, then shivered back down, hips working as those warm, sweet bursts of pleasure kept curling through his stomach. And on his next hitch up, Rodney gave him what he needed and pressed inside him, pressing one finger in as deep as it could go.
Gasping, John hunched over with pleasure, and all he could do for several long moments was lie there, panting into Rodney's throat while he shuddered and came in thick, slow spurts, soaking the front of his BDUs with come.
***
Later, after Rodney had helped him clean up, and once they were curled up in bed facing each other, John really started to understand how far Rodney's control issues ran in the bedroom.
"I can't believe you won't let me do anything for you," and while he made sure he sounded casual, he was actually pushing.
Rodney, on the other hand, still looked guilty about making out with him in the first place. "We're not going any further until your doctor clears you for more vigorous activity," he murmured. "And don't try to tempt me with your masculine wiles; I won't give in, not where your health is concerned."
At this point, John decided that he needed to brush up on those wiles, because clearly they weren't getting the job done, even though he hadn't been trying that hard.
"At least we don't need background checks before we go out for dinner!" Rodney beamed at him all of a sudden, looking quite smug.
"Rodney-" John pushed himself up on one elbow, worried Rodney thought he could relax now that they were together.
But Rodney very quickly disabused him of that notion. "Look, if this is about me needing to maintain my security, then I agree with you wholeheartedly," Rodney told him, stroking one hand down his chest. "Also, you were right all along: you never know what people may be hiding unless you check up on them. Take Miko, for instance. It turns out she heads up the Colorado chapter of 'The Mer-maids'. Can you believe that?"
"I'm sorry, the what?" John cocked his head to one side.
"'The Mer-maids'," Rodney said again. When he raised an eyebrow, Rodney added, "My oestrogen brigade. Surely you've heard of them?"
John shook his head because, no, he had not. "Why do they call themselves-?"
"That part's not important," Rodney cut in, rather sharply in his opinion-making him realize that it probably was. "The important thing," Rodney stressed, "is that, as a fan base, they're very loyal but incredibly over-zealous in their attempts to interact with me. Which is why I need a lot of protection."
"From mermaids." John wanted to be clear about that.
"Not mermaids," snapped Rodney, "'The Mer-Maids'!" And for some reason, Rodney seemed to think the hyphenation and capitalization would make it seem less ridiculous.
"Any other sea creatures from your past I should know about?" He tried to say it using his serious command voice, to imbue those words with the gravitas they deserved.
Rodney, who apparently knew him far too well, just sputtered before rolling over with an annoyed little huff.
John bit the inside of his cheek, smirking. He could tell from the set of Rodney's shoulders that Rodney wasn't really angry with him. Still, taking the opportunity, he put his hands on them and started kneading them gently, wondering all the while how Rodney was going to retaliate.
The last time he'd seriously pissed Rodney off, Rodney had dropped a protection detail on him and had then had him promoted. Worst case scenario, he was pretty sure he would be on his way to General before the year was through.
The End.