My porn is back!
I wrote this for
ladycat777 because she was having a bad day.
title: Ache
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: NC-17
Summary: John + Rodney = blowjob. John's knees + being forty = ow.
John loves Rodney's cock. This isn't news, really - he loves cock in general, so it's no surprise that he feels this way about Rodney's.
Except. He really, really likes Rodney's cock. It's broad and solid, steady like Rodney himself, uncut and leaks a lot, which is just so fucking hot, seeing how desperate Rodney is for him.
He loves sucking Rodney's cock even more, weight against his tongue and the smell of Rodney's musk surrounding him, Rodney's hands pulling him closer. He even loves the bitter taste of come flooding his mouth, choking him a little.
It's been years since John has done this, knelt for ages at someone's feet and been so entirely comfortable. Not physically, really, because he's not so young anymore and the metal floor leaves his knees aching, but Christ, he's pretty sure this is perfection.
Rodney's big, capable hands are everywhere, pressing his cock forward until it bumps John's lips. He shudders and opens his mouth, and Rodney doesn’t hesitate to thrust in, shallow at first as John trembles apart, and then harder when he steadies. He keeps one hand tangled in John's hair, the other gripping his shoulder. There'll be little fingerprint dustings of blue and purple along his shoulderblade in the morning; during their next staff meeting, he'll be able to press back against his chair and feel that ache, echoed in his jaw, his knees.
"You always look good with a dick in your mouth," Rodney says fondly, almost indulgent, like he's allowing John to have this as a gift, or something. John groans a little, involuntarily, because Rodney's superiority always fucking does this to him - in bed, in a staff meeting, what the fuck ever; John's body doesn't seem to know the difference. He's so hard it hurts, still fully dressed and regretting how tight his BDUs are.
Rodney shoves forward again, deeper, more than John can fit comfortably. Rodney's hand in his hair doesn't give him any room to back off, and John chokes a little, then a lot, throat spasming around Rodney's cock and Christ it hurts and he can't breathe and it's so good -
"Don't you dare come yet," Rodney snaps, pulling back some, but John's gratified to note that his voice is breathier than normal. He's riding the edge, too.
John shifts a little, aiming for a better angle for his neck, and something in his right knee crackles against the floor, a jolt of what is absolutely not the good kind of pain spiking up through his thigh. He can't help the sound he makes, or the way he partially crumples to take the pressure off his knee.
Of course, Rodney notices, and his hand tightens in John's hair as he pulls John off his cock. John whines, a little, but he's mostly distracted by how much his knee hurts, twisting to hide his grimace of pain against Rodney's thigh. The bunched fabric of his pants scrapes uncomfortably against his cheek.
"You're an idiot," Rodney says, fingers slipping through his hair and tugging gently. "Get on the bed."
John attempts to obey and discovers that standing hurts like fuck. Rodney supports him partially - and really, nothing kills the mood like being a pathetic old man who can't walk three steps to the bed - until John can ease himself down and stretch out.
The burn in his leg slowly fades, but John can't look at Rodney. "Sorry," he mutters, raw voice barely audible, eyes closed against what he's sure will be Rodney's mocking. He's surprised, then, to feel hands pulling both his pants and boxers down with careful deliberation. John looks up and is surprised to note that Rodney's face is focused, calm, and that Rodney's cock is still curving up against his stomach.
"Shirt off," Rodney says softly, his own clothes coming off with reassuring speed. They're still doing this, then. John can't help grinning as he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it to the side. The smile stretches his newly-chapped lips, and there you go, that was the kind of pain he was okay with.
Rodney brushes one hand over John's knee, a barely-there touch that sets John's teeth on edge, and says with a trace of a smirk, "You still owe me a blowjob."
John nods, and Rodney gives him a Look.
"Yeah," John says hoarsely, startled by how gone his voice is. "I do."
Apparently three words is about all Rodney expects of him, because it's enough. Rodney adjusts the pillow beneath John's head, then climbs on top of him - Jesus, John thinks, who knew Rodney could get his legs to twist like that? - so that his knees are resting against John's shoulders.
It's going to hurt like hell later - is already burning a little - and John's cock is already twitching.
"Well, suck me, then," and there's a note of impatience edging Rodney's voice that's both familiar and so goddamn hot; whatever mood that was lost before is totally back as John pushes his neck forward to take Rodney's cock in his mouth.
The position makes it impossible to move more than a couple of inches and gives John absolutely no control over depth or speed, which is exactly what they both want, and somehow this is even better than it was before, Rodney's hand sliding back into his hair and his cock sliding deeper into John's throat.
This time Rodney doesn't stop, either, just presses and presses until John couldn't breathe if he wanted to and all that seems real is the weight holding him down and the lack of air in his lungs - and Rodney's murmuring, "Take it, John, just let me -" and of course he does, because when has he ever not let Rodney do something?
Finally - finally, when John's eyes are streaming and he swears he can feel the imprint of Rodney's cock against the back of his throat and his hands are clenched helplessly on Rodney's thighs - finally Rodney pulls out. And of course now John chokes, coughing and gasping and not even able to turn his face away, forced to let Rodney watch him sputter and sob for air.
Rodney doesn't wait long before he says, "Again," and pulls John's head forward, and this time John's ready for how fucking deep he goes. "Good, you're so good, John," and John shudders at Rodney's tone, like three in the morning and dark chocolate and thunderclouds. "You want to come, don't you?"
John can't nod, can't do anything to answer in the affirmative, but he figures the whimper he doesn't manage to repress is answer enough, and sure enough Rodney pulls out again, letting him breathe for a few seconds before shoving back in, no warning this time.
"Go ahead, come for me, John - " and that's enough, just the words and John's whole body is trying to arch off the bed, held down by Rodney's strength, he's choking helplessly, messily, tears streaking his face and it's like every nerve in screaming for air exactly like his lungs are and it's just too fucking overwhelming -
Rodney shifts back and away while John's coming, for which he's grateful, because frankly John doesn't want to be responsible for his teeth right now. While he's still quivering and whimpering with aftershocks, every inch of skin so oversensitized that Rodney's knees against his shoulders feel like a hand on his dick, Rodney says, "Touch me."
John fumbles to move his hands, to wrap one around Rodney's cock and stroke exactly the way he likes, with that twist over the head that's really awkward at this angle, but it's enough for Rodney, who groans low and long, giving John just enough warning to close his eyes and open his mouth before Rodney comes on his face. The sounds Rodney's making and the taste of Rodney on his lips as John licks them and shudders makes his cock jolt, too much and too soon, sensory overload.
He's aware, vaguely, of Rodney moving, definitely notices the ache in his numb shoulders when Rodney gets off of him, and drifts comfortably through Rodney smoothing a warm cloth across his face, wrapping something hot around his knee.
"Ro'ney," he says, throat still not working properly, but apparently it's enough as Rodney eases him onto his side, bad knee up, and presses behind him, all warmth and a soothing, familiar presence as John slips easily into sleep between one breath and the next.
Also, is LJ trying to kill anyone else today?
ladycat777 because she was having a bad day.
title: Ache
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: NC-17
Summary: John + Rodney = blowjob. John's knees + being forty = ow.
John loves Rodney's cock. This isn't news, really - he loves cock in general, so it's no surprise that he feels this way about Rodney's.
Except. He really, really likes Rodney's cock. It's broad and solid, steady like Rodney himself, uncut and leaks a lot, which is just so fucking hot, seeing how desperate Rodney is for him.
He loves sucking Rodney's cock even more, weight against his tongue and the smell of Rodney's musk surrounding him, Rodney's hands pulling him closer. He even loves the bitter taste of come flooding his mouth, choking him a little.
It's been years since John has done this, knelt for ages at someone's feet and been so entirely comfortable. Not physically, really, because he's not so young anymore and the metal floor leaves his knees aching, but Christ, he's pretty sure this is perfection.
Rodney's big, capable hands are everywhere, pressing his cock forward until it bumps John's lips. He shudders and opens his mouth, and Rodney doesn’t hesitate to thrust in, shallow at first as John trembles apart, and then harder when he steadies. He keeps one hand tangled in John's hair, the other gripping his shoulder. There'll be little fingerprint dustings of blue and purple along his shoulderblade in the morning; during their next staff meeting, he'll be able to press back against his chair and feel that ache, echoed in his jaw, his knees.
"You always look good with a dick in your mouth," Rodney says fondly, almost indulgent, like he's allowing John to have this as a gift, or something. John groans a little, involuntarily, because Rodney's superiority always fucking does this to him - in bed, in a staff meeting, what the fuck ever; John's body doesn't seem to know the difference. He's so hard it hurts, still fully dressed and regretting how tight his BDUs are.
Rodney shoves forward again, deeper, more than John can fit comfortably. Rodney's hand in his hair doesn't give him any room to back off, and John chokes a little, then a lot, throat spasming around Rodney's cock and Christ it hurts and he can't breathe and it's so good -
"Don't you dare come yet," Rodney snaps, pulling back some, but John's gratified to note that his voice is breathier than normal. He's riding the edge, too.
John shifts a little, aiming for a better angle for his neck, and something in his right knee crackles against the floor, a jolt of what is absolutely not the good kind of pain spiking up through his thigh. He can't help the sound he makes, or the way he partially crumples to take the pressure off his knee.
Of course, Rodney notices, and his hand tightens in John's hair as he pulls John off his cock. John whines, a little, but he's mostly distracted by how much his knee hurts, twisting to hide his grimace of pain against Rodney's thigh. The bunched fabric of his pants scrapes uncomfortably against his cheek.
"You're an idiot," Rodney says, fingers slipping through his hair and tugging gently. "Get on the bed."
John attempts to obey and discovers that standing hurts like fuck. Rodney supports him partially - and really, nothing kills the mood like being a pathetic old man who can't walk three steps to the bed - until John can ease himself down and stretch out.
The burn in his leg slowly fades, but John can't look at Rodney. "Sorry," he mutters, raw voice barely audible, eyes closed against what he's sure will be Rodney's mocking. He's surprised, then, to feel hands pulling both his pants and boxers down with careful deliberation. John looks up and is surprised to note that Rodney's face is focused, calm, and that Rodney's cock is still curving up against his stomach.
"Shirt off," Rodney says softly, his own clothes coming off with reassuring speed. They're still doing this, then. John can't help grinning as he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it to the side. The smile stretches his newly-chapped lips, and there you go, that was the kind of pain he was okay with.
Rodney brushes one hand over John's knee, a barely-there touch that sets John's teeth on edge, and says with a trace of a smirk, "You still owe me a blowjob."
John nods, and Rodney gives him a Look.
"Yeah," John says hoarsely, startled by how gone his voice is. "I do."
Apparently three words is about all Rodney expects of him, because it's enough. Rodney adjusts the pillow beneath John's head, then climbs on top of him - Jesus, John thinks, who knew Rodney could get his legs to twist like that? - so that his knees are resting against John's shoulders.
It's going to hurt like hell later - is already burning a little - and John's cock is already twitching.
"Well, suck me, then," and there's a note of impatience edging Rodney's voice that's both familiar and so goddamn hot; whatever mood that was lost before is totally back as John pushes his neck forward to take Rodney's cock in his mouth.
The position makes it impossible to move more than a couple of inches and gives John absolutely no control over depth or speed, which is exactly what they both want, and somehow this is even better than it was before, Rodney's hand sliding back into his hair and his cock sliding deeper into John's throat.
This time Rodney doesn't stop, either, just presses and presses until John couldn't breathe if he wanted to and all that seems real is the weight holding him down and the lack of air in his lungs - and Rodney's murmuring, "Take it, John, just let me -" and of course he does, because when has he ever not let Rodney do something?
Finally - finally, when John's eyes are streaming and he swears he can feel the imprint of Rodney's cock against the back of his throat and his hands are clenched helplessly on Rodney's thighs - finally Rodney pulls out. And of course now John chokes, coughing and gasping and not even able to turn his face away, forced to let Rodney watch him sputter and sob for air.
Rodney doesn't wait long before he says, "Again," and pulls John's head forward, and this time John's ready for how fucking deep he goes. "Good, you're so good, John," and John shudders at Rodney's tone, like three in the morning and dark chocolate and thunderclouds. "You want to come, don't you?"
John can't nod, can't do anything to answer in the affirmative, but he figures the whimper he doesn't manage to repress is answer enough, and sure enough Rodney pulls out again, letting him breathe for a few seconds before shoving back in, no warning this time.
"Go ahead, come for me, John - " and that's enough, just the words and John's whole body is trying to arch off the bed, held down by Rodney's strength, he's choking helplessly, messily, tears streaking his face and it's like every nerve in screaming for air exactly like his lungs are and it's just too fucking overwhelming -
Rodney shifts back and away while John's coming, for which he's grateful, because frankly John doesn't want to be responsible for his teeth right now. While he's still quivering and whimpering with aftershocks, every inch of skin so oversensitized that Rodney's knees against his shoulders feel like a hand on his dick, Rodney says, "Touch me."
John fumbles to move his hands, to wrap one around Rodney's cock and stroke exactly the way he likes, with that twist over the head that's really awkward at this angle, but it's enough for Rodney, who groans low and long, giving John just enough warning to close his eyes and open his mouth before Rodney comes on his face. The sounds Rodney's making and the taste of Rodney on his lips as John licks them and shudders makes his cock jolt, too much and too soon, sensory overload.
He's aware, vaguely, of Rodney moving, definitely notices the ache in his numb shoulders when Rodney gets off of him, and drifts comfortably through Rodney smoothing a warm cloth across his face, wrapping something hot around his knee.
"Ro'ney," he says, throat still not working properly, but apparently it's enough as Rodney eases him onto his side, bad knee up, and presses behind him, all warmth and a soothing, familiar presence as John slips easily into sleep between one breath and the next.
Also, is LJ trying to kill anyone else today?