FIC: For Your Eyes Only, NC-17
Title: For Your Eyes Only
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard, established.
Summary: D/s, porn. I'm supposed to be finishing this paper about the impact of multinational corporations on Nigerian ethnic cleavage, but instead I wrote porn. High five for procrastination!
AN: So, I was going to write a whole section before this where there was a mission and an alien ritual and all the villagers would touch John, because he has the Ancient gene and to touch him will bring the favor of the Ancestors, or something, and Rodney would quietly seethe from where he's standing with Ronon and Teyla while all these people wouldrun their hands over John's face and arms, while one of the kids would hug him and a few of the girls kiss him, chaste but not chaste enough for Rodney. And then they were going to come back to Atlantis and Rodney was going to send John a cryptic email, then show up in his quarters and insist on sex. But I'm a slacker, so just... fast forward to the part where Rodney demands sex, okay?
"On your knees," Rodney says, and John falls to them as gracefully as he ever does, which is to say: not very. Pretty, John is, but elegant, not so much. "Suck me - no hands."
John ducks his head for a second, then takes a steadying breath and leans forward to pull at the button of Rodney's pants with his teeth. It's not as easy as it looks in porn, of course, and John fumbles, tugging and scraping until he can nuzzle at the gap in Rodney's boxers. Rodney reaches down, mildly sympathetic, and pulls his cock out, holding it steady as John goes down fast and messy. "You're not the most talented cocksucker I've ever had," Rodney comments idly, just to watch John's ears turn pink with humiliation, "But you win for enthusiasm."
He doesn't let John suck him for too long; he knows his own limits well enough to know he has to nip the blowjob in the bud if he wants to get to the other stuff tonight. "Get up. Strip, and then kneel on the bed, facing me."
While John scrambles to obey, Rodney kicks off his pants, tugs his shirt off, and digs around in his drawers until he finds lube, a condom, and a moderately thick cord, dropping all three on the bedside table. He looks up and finds John's eyes on him, pupils blown wide.
"Touch yourself," Rodney orders calmly, pacing around so he's directly in front of the bed. John obeys, awkward at first. Rodney knows exactly how uncomfortable it makes John to be on display - not because he doesn't like it, but because he likes it too much. He looks good like this, fingers twisted around his slender cock a contrast against dark body hair and bright sheets.
Rodney moves to the side, back towards the table, and John's head turns to follow him. "Eyes front," he snaps, and John shivers. Rodney usually tries to avoid any order John's gotten in the military, just because it taps into parts of John's psyche that don't really follow the pattern they both like in power games, but this particular one is pretty effective. Picking up the lube, Rodney says, "Hold out your left hand." John keeps jerking off with his right, but extends the left towards Rodney. It's shaking.
Rodney uncaps the lube, smirking as John jumps at the sound, then pours it over John's fingers. "Fuck yourself. Two fingers."
John only hesitates a second before obeying, spreading his knees and leaning forward slightly. Putting on a show, Rodney thinks with amusement, at least until he watches John's fingers disappear into his body. The muscles of his back ripple at the movement, and Rodney devours the motion, walking slowly around to get the full view. John like this is always absurdly beautiful, chest distorted by the position, mouth still red and slick from Rodney's cock, tearing himself apart for Rodney's eyes.
Rodney lets it go on for a while, until John's making the little panting sounds that mean he's gone straight past wanting and is well on the way to desperate. Long familiar with John's quirky little kinks, Rodney knows exactly how to send him into freefall. "What do you want, John? Answer me."
This part is always a struggle for John, who usually has no idea how to articulate what he wants. Most of the time he tries to gloss over it, whispering "Whatever you want, Rodney" or "God, anything," but Rodney generally makes a point to force John's fantasies out into the open, to shred even that last facade.
"Touch me, Rodney, please," John chokes out, not quite the answer Rodney wanted, but Rodney watches the play of muscle and bone in John's shoulder as he moves his hand, finger-fucking himself fast and rough.
"I think you've been touched enough for today," Rodney answers, deliberately cruel, and John's eyes go wide. He hasn't pushed too far, but he's skirting the edge; John's always been nervous about bringing any part of work to bed with them. "You know what I was thinking about on that planet? While they were putting their hands all over you?"
John doesn't answer, but his hand stills momentarily on his cock.
"I was thinking about getting in line, and then shoving you to your knees, right there on that platform in front of the entire village and Ronon and Teyla, so they could all see how much of a whore you really are. Making you suck me, making you kneel there and beg for my cock in front of total strangers and your team -" and John's eyes fall shut, hand tightening around the base of his cock. Rodney can see every muscle in his arms, his neck, his thighs, tension visible where John is holding himself together with physical force. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, for everyone to see you like this."
It's not a question.
John shudders, a dark flush creeping around his neck, across his face. "John, look at me."
The reaction is gratifyingly immediate, as John's eyes open and he meets Rodney's gaze squarely, even as his blush deepens. "You'd like it if I bent you over in front of everyone, wouldn't you, if I called you a slut where people could hear. You can answer."
John licks his lips, and his eyes flicker away from Rodney for a second. Rodney lets it go because John catches himself, corrects it, and whispers, "Y - yeah, god, Rodney -"
"That's too bad," Rodney interrupts, and yeah, John's pretty fucking far gone; he doesn't even try to hide his startled embarrassment. "That's too bad, because I won't." Rodney steps forward, closer to the bed, inches from skin on skin. "No one else will ever get to see you like this, aching to be fucked, begging for it. No one else," he repeats, and takes the last step, cupping John's face gently in one hand, more tender than he's been all night. "Because this is all for me - because you're mine."
It's enough, as he'd known it would be. John makes a messy, wet sound and comes, spilling over his fist and marking his own thighs. Rodney, feeling magnanimous, leans forward, holding John's face pressed against his shoulder. "Shh," he says softly, easing them both back against the sheets, using the weigh of his body to still John's shaking. He hasn't seen John this wrecked in a long time. "I've got you."
Rodney waits a minute, until John calms a little, before sitting back. John, laid out across the bed, looks like something from the really good porn, slick skin and blissed-out eyes. Rodney reaches for the cord he'd left on the dresser earlier and takes John's hands carefully in his own. John's mouth twists upwards a little, and he crosses his wrists, letting Rodney tie them together. "You're pretty like this," Rodney remarks, not for the first time, and pushes John's bound wrists above his head. "Keep them there while I fuck you."
John's already loose and relaxed, from his fingers and his orgasm, so all Rodney has to do, essentially, is get the condom on. He's painfully hard; watching John come apart in front of him always does that, leaves him struggling for his own control. Lifting one of John's legs onto his shoulder and pushing the other to the side - firmly enough that John shivers under his hands - Rodney presses forward, into the familiar heat of John's body, a practiced smooth glide.
John's always sensitive like this, after he's come, and Rodney watches him resist the urge to bring his hands down, to move away from Rodney's cock. "Don't move," Rodney says, hearing the strain in his own voice. "Don't even fucking think about it." He pulls out most of the way, then pushes back in, feeling the way John tightens around him.
He doesn't last long; he wasn't expecting to, not after the long build-up, but he does keep going until John's making small, broken noises between sobbed breaths.
He leaves John tied while he goes to the bathroom to throw away the condom, and comes back with a washcloth, cleaning off John's drying come and the excess of sticky lube before untying the cord. There are uneven red lines across John's wrists, criss-crossing dark hair. Rodney kisses them, open-mouthed, tasting sweat and desire, and John murmurs contentedly before turning his hand in Rodney's, pulling him down for a slow, drunken kiss.
"If we were back on Earth," Rodney says into his hair a few minutes later, "There are - places, and I could definitely set up - I mean, if you wanted, we could do that."
John snorts a laugh against his chest. "You'd kill the first person who looked at me."
"Well. Yes, probably," Rodney admits, letting his hand curl around one bare shoulder. "But I thought I'd offer."
"No, this - this is good," John says sleepily.
And it really is.
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard, established.
Summary: D/s, porn. I'm supposed to be finishing this paper about the impact of multinational corporations on Nigerian ethnic cleavage, but instead I wrote porn. High five for procrastination!
AN: So, I was going to write a whole section before this where there was a mission and an alien ritual and all the villagers would touch John, because he has the Ancient gene and to touch him will bring the favor of the Ancestors, or something, and Rodney would quietly seethe from where he's standing with Ronon and Teyla while all these people wouldrun their hands over John's face and arms, while one of the kids would hug him and a few of the girls kiss him, chaste but not chaste enough for Rodney. And then they were going to come back to Atlantis and Rodney was going to send John a cryptic email, then show up in his quarters and insist on sex. But I'm a slacker, so just... fast forward to the part where Rodney demands sex, okay?
"On your knees," Rodney says, and John falls to them as gracefully as he ever does, which is to say: not very. Pretty, John is, but elegant, not so much. "Suck me - no hands."
John ducks his head for a second, then takes a steadying breath and leans forward to pull at the button of Rodney's pants with his teeth. It's not as easy as it looks in porn, of course, and John fumbles, tugging and scraping until he can nuzzle at the gap in Rodney's boxers. Rodney reaches down, mildly sympathetic, and pulls his cock out, holding it steady as John goes down fast and messy. "You're not the most talented cocksucker I've ever had," Rodney comments idly, just to watch John's ears turn pink with humiliation, "But you win for enthusiasm."
He doesn't let John suck him for too long; he knows his own limits well enough to know he has to nip the blowjob in the bud if he wants to get to the other stuff tonight. "Get up. Strip, and then kneel on the bed, facing me."
While John scrambles to obey, Rodney kicks off his pants, tugs his shirt off, and digs around in his drawers until he finds lube, a condom, and a moderately thick cord, dropping all three on the bedside table. He looks up and finds John's eyes on him, pupils blown wide.
"Touch yourself," Rodney orders calmly, pacing around so he's directly in front of the bed. John obeys, awkward at first. Rodney knows exactly how uncomfortable it makes John to be on display - not because he doesn't like it, but because he likes it too much. He looks good like this, fingers twisted around his slender cock a contrast against dark body hair and bright sheets.
Rodney moves to the side, back towards the table, and John's head turns to follow him. "Eyes front," he snaps, and John shivers. Rodney usually tries to avoid any order John's gotten in the military, just because it taps into parts of John's psyche that don't really follow the pattern they both like in power games, but this particular one is pretty effective. Picking up the lube, Rodney says, "Hold out your left hand." John keeps jerking off with his right, but extends the left towards Rodney. It's shaking.
Rodney uncaps the lube, smirking as John jumps at the sound, then pours it over John's fingers. "Fuck yourself. Two fingers."
John only hesitates a second before obeying, spreading his knees and leaning forward slightly. Putting on a show, Rodney thinks with amusement, at least until he watches John's fingers disappear into his body. The muscles of his back ripple at the movement, and Rodney devours the motion, walking slowly around to get the full view. John like this is always absurdly beautiful, chest distorted by the position, mouth still red and slick from Rodney's cock, tearing himself apart for Rodney's eyes.
Rodney lets it go on for a while, until John's making the little panting sounds that mean he's gone straight past wanting and is well on the way to desperate. Long familiar with John's quirky little kinks, Rodney knows exactly how to send him into freefall. "What do you want, John? Answer me."
This part is always a struggle for John, who usually has no idea how to articulate what he wants. Most of the time he tries to gloss over it, whispering "Whatever you want, Rodney" or "God, anything," but Rodney generally makes a point to force John's fantasies out into the open, to shred even that last facade.
"Touch me, Rodney, please," John chokes out, not quite the answer Rodney wanted, but Rodney watches the play of muscle and bone in John's shoulder as he moves his hand, finger-fucking himself fast and rough.
"I think you've been touched enough for today," Rodney answers, deliberately cruel, and John's eyes go wide. He hasn't pushed too far, but he's skirting the edge; John's always been nervous about bringing any part of work to bed with them. "You know what I was thinking about on that planet? While they were putting their hands all over you?"
John doesn't answer, but his hand stills momentarily on his cock.
"I was thinking about getting in line, and then shoving you to your knees, right there on that platform in front of the entire village and Ronon and Teyla, so they could all see how much of a whore you really are. Making you suck me, making you kneel there and beg for my cock in front of total strangers and your team -" and John's eyes fall shut, hand tightening around the base of his cock. Rodney can see every muscle in his arms, his neck, his thighs, tension visible where John is holding himself together with physical force. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, for everyone to see you like this."
It's not a question.
John shudders, a dark flush creeping around his neck, across his face. "John, look at me."
The reaction is gratifyingly immediate, as John's eyes open and he meets Rodney's gaze squarely, even as his blush deepens. "You'd like it if I bent you over in front of everyone, wouldn't you, if I called you a slut where people could hear. You can answer."
John licks his lips, and his eyes flicker away from Rodney for a second. Rodney lets it go because John catches himself, corrects it, and whispers, "Y - yeah, god, Rodney -"
"That's too bad," Rodney interrupts, and yeah, John's pretty fucking far gone; he doesn't even try to hide his startled embarrassment. "That's too bad, because I won't." Rodney steps forward, closer to the bed, inches from skin on skin. "No one else will ever get to see you like this, aching to be fucked, begging for it. No one else," he repeats, and takes the last step, cupping John's face gently in one hand, more tender than he's been all night. "Because this is all for me - because you're mine."
It's enough, as he'd known it would be. John makes a messy, wet sound and comes, spilling over his fist and marking his own thighs. Rodney, feeling magnanimous, leans forward, holding John's face pressed against his shoulder. "Shh," he says softly, easing them both back against the sheets, using the weigh of his body to still John's shaking. He hasn't seen John this wrecked in a long time. "I've got you."
Rodney waits a minute, until John calms a little, before sitting back. John, laid out across the bed, looks like something from the really good porn, slick skin and blissed-out eyes. Rodney reaches for the cord he'd left on the dresser earlier and takes John's hands carefully in his own. John's mouth twists upwards a little, and he crosses his wrists, letting Rodney tie them together. "You're pretty like this," Rodney remarks, not for the first time, and pushes John's bound wrists above his head. "Keep them there while I fuck you."
John's already loose and relaxed, from his fingers and his orgasm, so all Rodney has to do, essentially, is get the condom on. He's painfully hard; watching John come apart in front of him always does that, leaves him struggling for his own control. Lifting one of John's legs onto his shoulder and pushing the other to the side - firmly enough that John shivers under his hands - Rodney presses forward, into the familiar heat of John's body, a practiced smooth glide.
John's always sensitive like this, after he's come, and Rodney watches him resist the urge to bring his hands down, to move away from Rodney's cock. "Don't move," Rodney says, hearing the strain in his own voice. "Don't even fucking think about it." He pulls out most of the way, then pushes back in, feeling the way John tightens around him.
He doesn't last long; he wasn't expecting to, not after the long build-up, but he does keep going until John's making small, broken noises between sobbed breaths.
He leaves John tied while he goes to the bathroom to throw away the condom, and comes back with a washcloth, cleaning off John's drying come and the excess of sticky lube before untying the cord. There are uneven red lines across John's wrists, criss-crossing dark hair. Rodney kisses them, open-mouthed, tasting sweat and desire, and John murmurs contentedly before turning his hand in Rodney's, pulling him down for a slow, drunken kiss.
"If we were back on Earth," Rodney says into his hair a few minutes later, "There are - places, and I could definitely set up - I mean, if you wanted, we could do that."
John snorts a laugh against his chest. "You'd kill the first person who looked at me."
"Well. Yes, probably," Rodney admits, letting his hand curl around one bare shoulder. "But I thought I'd offer."
"No, this - this is good," John says sleepily.
And it really is.