Stargate: Atlantis, Sheppard/McKay, Stages of a relationship: Sex/Physical or Emotional Intimacy
Title: Argot
Author: Pollitt (mboyd)
Theme: Touch
Rating: R
Author's Notes: No spoilers.
argot: A specialized vocabulary or set of idioms used by a particular group
"Touch me. Please."
This isn’t the first time they’ve done this, or even the fiftieth (that anniversary was celebrated under scratchy woolen blankets on Hyperi), and John can’t imagine ever not needing to feel Rodney’s hands on his skin. He can’t imagine ever not needing to touch Rodney in return.
He’s never been the one with the words; he doesn’t have Rodney’s courage to say the things he feels. Their touch has become a language of its own, where John can find his voice.
Lazy, deep kisses that last for hours. Stripping away jackets and shirts and pants, kissing every inch of newly exposed skin. The sweet, slow slide of skin against skin, the build up of electricity and, finally, release.
I could do this forever. I still can’t believe I got you. I love you.
“John,” Rodney says between breaths, his face flushed and vulnerable in ways that make John want to hurt anyone who would ever harm him.
John touches Rodney’s face, kisses him, wraps his arms around him. I’ll protect you.
Rodney’s fingers feel along the twin scars at his shoulder-Koyla’s mark, the memory of torture endured and witnessed-covering them, pulling John closer. I’ll protect you, too.
Author: Pollitt (mboyd)
Theme: Touch
Rating: R
Author's Notes: No spoilers.
argot: A specialized vocabulary or set of idioms used by a particular group
"Touch me. Please."
This isn’t the first time they’ve done this, or even the fiftieth (that anniversary was celebrated under scratchy woolen blankets on Hyperi), and John can’t imagine ever not needing to feel Rodney’s hands on his skin. He can’t imagine ever not needing to touch Rodney in return.
He’s never been the one with the words; he doesn’t have Rodney’s courage to say the things he feels. Their touch has become a language of its own, where John can find his voice.
Lazy, deep kisses that last for hours. Stripping away jackets and shirts and pants, kissing every inch of newly exposed skin. The sweet, slow slide of skin against skin, the build up of electricity and, finally, release.
I could do this forever. I still can’t believe I got you. I love you.
“John,” Rodney says between breaths, his face flushed and vulnerable in ways that make John want to hurt anyone who would ever harm him.
John touches Rodney’s face, kisses him, wraps his arms around him. I’ll protect you.
Rodney’s fingers feel along the twin scars at his shoulder-Koyla’s mark, the memory of torture endured and witnessed-covering them, pulling John closer. I’ll protect you, too.