Snow Day, Cam/John, R, PWP
Title: Snow Day
Author: spillingvelvet
Pairing: Cam Mitchell/John Sheppard
Rating: R - PWP
Notes: 814 words, unabashedly fluffy. Beta by the glorious
kate. Special appearance by macaroons. Cam/macaroons=OTP OKAY.
It takes seventeen rounds of rock-paper-scissors before John agrees to go shovel out their cars.
"I hate snow," John grumbles while he pulls on his underwear.
"How did you survive in Antarctica?" Cam laughs, bunching the pillows under his head.
"I didn't have to do any shoveling," John says.
"It builds character." Cam grins. "Also, you're way better at it."
John squints at him and digs a thermal undershirt out of the hamper.
"Is this clean?" He sniffs it.
Cam shrugs. "Didn't you just pull it out of the dirty clothes?"
"Whatever, it's just going to get sweaty anyway." He hauls it on over his head and reaches for his watch on the bedside table.
Cam pulls him down for a sweet kiss, and then burrows down into the covers.
After a while he gets up and starts the coffee machine. There's a text message on his cell phone from Sam telling them not to come in. They're not scheduled to go offworld, anyway, and General Landry can't even get out of his driveway.
Cam pumps his fist and whoops in the empty apartment. He hears the scrape and thump of John shoveling and crosses the room to open the window and lean out.
"Yo, Shep!" he shouts.
John, hunched over behind Cam's mustang, straightens up and looks around. Snow is still falling heavily, and John looks disoriented.
"Snow day!" Cam shouts. John looks up at the window and gives him the thumbs up.
"I'm almost done, anyway," John calls back, and begins digging again.
Cam watches him for a few moments before getting cold and closing the window. He digs through the kitchen cabinets and pulls various ingredients down off the shelves. Almond paste, sugar, flour.
John comes stamping down the hallway of the building and Cam greets him at the door with a cup of coffee and a long, leisurely kiss.
John's cheeks and nose are flushed and freezing.
"You have to finish up when it stops," he tells Cam when he pulls back and shakes his gloves off one at a time before cradling the coffee cup in his hands and taking a careful sip. "Needs more sugar."
Cam laughs and puts the coffee on the hall table before unzipping John's coat and unwinding his scarf.
"Okay," Cam says and sinks to his knees. "You want macaroons later?"
"Oh, alright." John bites his bottom lip and smiles as Cam wrestles with his pants.
"Good God, how many layers did you put on?" Cam laughs and peels down John's sweat pants, jeans, and two pairs of long underwear.
"S'cold," John insists.
Cam huffs and finally gets John's pants down around his knees. He leans in and bites at John's hip bones, licking at the red marks. John's head thuds back against the wall and he lets out a low groan.
"Don't knock the coffee," Cam warns, his breath gusting over John's cock before taking the head into his mouth.
"Oh god," John paws at Cam's shoulder. Cam pulls back, gathering spit, and rolls the glans of John's cock across his tongue. John's hips stutter forward, and Cam grips them and pushes them firmly against the wall.
"Oh shit," he gasps. Cam feels the muscles of his ass quiver under his fingers. John makes tiny, abortive noises, trying to hitch his groin forward.
Cam hums and sucks harder. John's grunts, his hand skitters from Cam's shoulder into his hair, pulling and petting, like he can't decide which to do.
"That's-" John hacks out a sound and comes, pumping his hips weakly in Cam's grip.
Cam swallows and lets John's cock slip from his mouth.
"Okay?" he asks and stands. John looks at him through heavy eyelids, head still propped on the wall.
"Nnnng," he tries.
"Snow ain't so bad, is it?" Cam nuzzles the side of John's neck.
"Hrmph."
"Get changed, I'll make cookies."
"'Kay."
"Maybe try for more than one syllable?" Cam says with a pleased grin. John flips him off and stoops to untie his boots.
Cam busies himself in the kitchen for a while, mixing up the batter and scooping blobs onto a cookie sheet. John shuffles in as Cam is washing his hands and tucks himself up behind him at the sink, wrapping his arms around his waist.
"Hey," Cam says and turns off the water.
"Mmf," John rubs his face on Cam's shoulder.
"You need more coffee," Cam decides and steers them both out to the living room.
John flops onto the couch while Cam gets the coffee pot and their mugs.
"Scooch," Cam nudges at John's leg with his foot. John sits upright and takes his steaming mug. They settle down under a blanket and watch the snow falling outside through the window.
"Okay, so, I guess this part doesn't suck so bad." John says in between slurps.
Cam hooks his arm around John's shoulders. "Told you."
Author: spillingvelvet
Pairing: Cam Mitchell/John Sheppard
Rating: R - PWP
Notes: 814 words, unabashedly fluffy. Beta by the glorious
kate. Special appearance by macaroons. Cam/macaroons=OTP OKAY.
It takes seventeen rounds of rock-paper-scissors before John agrees to go shovel out their cars.
"I hate snow," John grumbles while he pulls on his underwear.
"How did you survive in Antarctica?" Cam laughs, bunching the pillows under his head.
"I didn't have to do any shoveling," John says.
"It builds character." Cam grins. "Also, you're way better at it."
John squints at him and digs a thermal undershirt out of the hamper.
"Is this clean?" He sniffs it.
Cam shrugs. "Didn't you just pull it out of the dirty clothes?"
"Whatever, it's just going to get sweaty anyway." He hauls it on over his head and reaches for his watch on the bedside table.
Cam pulls him down for a sweet kiss, and then burrows down into the covers.
After a while he gets up and starts the coffee machine. There's a text message on his cell phone from Sam telling them not to come in. They're not scheduled to go offworld, anyway, and General Landry can't even get out of his driveway.
Cam pumps his fist and whoops in the empty apartment. He hears the scrape and thump of John shoveling and crosses the room to open the window and lean out.
"Yo, Shep!" he shouts.
John, hunched over behind Cam's mustang, straightens up and looks around. Snow is still falling heavily, and John looks disoriented.
"Snow day!" Cam shouts. John looks up at the window and gives him the thumbs up.
"I'm almost done, anyway," John calls back, and begins digging again.
Cam watches him for a few moments before getting cold and closing the window. He digs through the kitchen cabinets and pulls various ingredients down off the shelves. Almond paste, sugar, flour.
John comes stamping down the hallway of the building and Cam greets him at the door with a cup of coffee and a long, leisurely kiss.
John's cheeks and nose are flushed and freezing.
"You have to finish up when it stops," he tells Cam when he pulls back and shakes his gloves off one at a time before cradling the coffee cup in his hands and taking a careful sip. "Needs more sugar."
Cam laughs and puts the coffee on the hall table before unzipping John's coat and unwinding his scarf.
"Okay," Cam says and sinks to his knees. "You want macaroons later?"
"Oh, alright." John bites his bottom lip and smiles as Cam wrestles with his pants.
"Good God, how many layers did you put on?" Cam laughs and peels down John's sweat pants, jeans, and two pairs of long underwear.
"S'cold," John insists.
Cam huffs and finally gets John's pants down around his knees. He leans in and bites at John's hip bones, licking at the red marks. John's head thuds back against the wall and he lets out a low groan.
"Don't knock the coffee," Cam warns, his breath gusting over John's cock before taking the head into his mouth.
"Oh god," John paws at Cam's shoulder. Cam pulls back, gathering spit, and rolls the glans of John's cock across his tongue. John's hips stutter forward, and Cam grips them and pushes them firmly against the wall.
"Oh shit," he gasps. Cam feels the muscles of his ass quiver under his fingers. John makes tiny, abortive noises, trying to hitch his groin forward.
Cam hums and sucks harder. John's grunts, his hand skitters from Cam's shoulder into his hair, pulling and petting, like he can't decide which to do.
"That's-" John hacks out a sound and comes, pumping his hips weakly in Cam's grip.
Cam swallows and lets John's cock slip from his mouth.
"Okay?" he asks and stands. John looks at him through heavy eyelids, head still propped on the wall.
"Nnnng," he tries.
"Snow ain't so bad, is it?" Cam nuzzles the side of John's neck.
"Hrmph."
"Get changed, I'll make cookies."
"'Kay."
"Maybe try for more than one syllable?" Cam says with a pleased grin. John flips him off and stoops to untie his boots.
Cam busies himself in the kitchen for a while, mixing up the batter and scooping blobs onto a cookie sheet. John shuffles in as Cam is washing his hands and tucks himself up behind him at the sink, wrapping his arms around his waist.
"Hey," Cam says and turns off the water.
"Mmf," John rubs his face on Cam's shoulder.
"You need more coffee," Cam decides and steers them both out to the living room.
John flops onto the couch while Cam gets the coffee pot and their mugs.
"Scooch," Cam nudges at John's leg with his foot. John sits upright and takes his steaming mug. They settle down under a blanket and watch the snow falling outside through the window.
"Okay, so, I guess this part doesn't suck so bad." John says in between slurps.
Cam hooks his arm around John's shoulders. "Told you."