Fic: Aleatoric Life 9/25: Scherzando
Title: Aleatoric Life 9: Scherzando
Author: SGAtlantisLight
Characters: McKay, Sheppard, Beckett
Relationships: Beckett/McKay/Sheppard
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Mention of non-con, major character whumpage, smut.
Spoilers: Much dialogue from the movie The Princess Bride
Summary: They had rescued him, but they had yet to truly bring him safely home. Part of the Aleatoric Life series.
Disclaimer: Undoubtedly I own them, and a whole lot of other things, in some universe, but not this one.
Carson sat between his lovers, listening to them quote the movie as they went along.
"'Probably some local fisherman, out for a pleasure cruise, at night... in... eel-infested waters...'" Rodney said as he slipped an arm around Carson, pulling him closer.
"So, if we were doing this as a play, who would we cast for what parts?" John asked, curling a hand over Carson's thigh.
"You'd have to be Inigo," Rodney opined.
"Not Westley? I want to be the Dread Pirate Roberts."
"You can't, because I'm Westley!"
"Says who?" John demanded.
"Says me. He's the brains of the group, so it's got to be me."
"You're Vizzini. You can't be Westley."
"Vizzini? No way. I'd never do anything so idiotic. We'd have to cast Radek or someone as Vizzini."
Carson shushed them. "Unlike you two, I haven't got the movie memorised and I'd like to hear it."
They fell silent for a while, with occasional interjections of dialogue.
"'You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means,'" John quoted in perfect accent.
"See?" Rodney said.
"So what? We could, you know, cast an actual Spaniard in the part."
"No good. I've known too many Spaniards," Rodney said.
"That's later in the movie."
"I know that! It--"
"Please!" Carson said.
They shut up.
"Oh, I love this fight scene!" John said.
They started quoting again.
"I... am not left-handed!" they both said at once.
"See, see! There's no way you could do that acrobatic maneuver."
"And you could?" Rodney snorted.
Carson snuggled closer to Rodney and pulled his feet up onto the couch and into John's lap. John began absently stroking his sock-covered feet and legs, while Rodney slipped both arms around him and dropped a kiss on his shoulder.
This distracted his lovers for a while.
"'My way's not very sportsman-like,'" John quoted.
"Who do we cast for Fezzik?" Rodney asked.
"Ronon?"
"That could work. Buttercup?"
"Hmmm... Not sure."
"Teyla? Elizabeth?" Carson suggested.
"Nah. Neither of them is that passive," John said.
"Yes, and Ronon acts a lot like Fezzik. We're casting for looks, not personality," Rodney said.
"'You mean, you'll put down your rock and I'll put down my sword, and we'll try and kill each other like civilized people?'" John quoted. "Then how's come you want to be Westley?"
"Okay, okay, maybe we are casting for personality."
"Cadman," John suggested.
Rodney made a gagging noise.
Carson slipped his hands on top of Rodney's and pulled them tighter around his waist. "Oh, John! That feels good."
"Yeah?" John fell silent, watching and massaging Carson's feet.
"'Rest well and dream of large women,'" Rodney cackled.
"You're still not Westley," John argued.
"Am so."
"Maybe we should watch this later," Carson suggested.
"Party pooper," John pouted.
"Let me put it this way. Have you ever heard of Plato, Aristotle, Socrates?" Vizzini said on the screen.
"'Morons!'" Rodney joined in with Vizzini.
"Told you. You're Vizzini," John said.
Carson sighed.
"Sorry, sorry," Rodney said.
"Hee! Iocaine powder! I love this bit."
Rodney started quoting Vizzini's attempt at deduction.
"'Truly, you have a dizzying intellect,'" John deadpanned with the Man in Black.
Carson nudged John's hand with his foot and John went back to his foot rub.
"'You fool! You fell victim to one of the classic blunders! The most famous is never get involved in a land war in Asia, but only slightly less well-known is this: never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line!'" Rodney even managed to do the laughs on cue.
"I think I'm a little frightened of his memorisation abilities," Carson commented to John.
"And yet he can't remember names."
"Oh, please, you try to keep track of Zelenka, Zherenkova, Satyanarayana, Zafiropoulos and a couple hundred other names and see if you do any better."
"Hey! I have to keep track of names."
"Yes. But for the most part, they're American names."
"Oh, here it comes! 'Aaaas... youuuu... wiiiiish!'" John mock-yelled.
"I'm still the better choice for Westley."
"What do you think, Carson?" John asked.
"I think he'd make a lovely Buttercup."
John cracked up.
Rodney harrumphed. "Why are we taking the word of Miracle Max, anyway?"
"I don't even want to think who might be Valerie."
"Or Humperdinck or Rugen," Carson added.
"Kolya for Rugen," Rodney said.
His lovers fell silent. Carson pulled Rodney's arm up and kissed the scar there.
John leaned over, hand on Carson's thigh, and kissed first Rodney, then Carson. Carson closed his eyes and accepted the kiss, letting his body respond to the presence, feel, and smell of his lovers.
"We'll never survive!" Buttercup despaired.
"Nonsense. You're only saying that because no one ever has," Westley answered.
Carson thought perhaps Westley had the right attitude. He dropped his hand to the floor and fished around till he found the remote and found the power button by feel. As the sound died and the screen went blank, John broke the kiss and sat back, looking at Carson questioningly. Carson took a breath, feeling his heart pound. "I want to try making love to you-- at least one of you-- but we may need to figure out what might work first."
"Okay," John said. "Do you need just one of us here?"
Carson bit his lip. "Kate thought it might be easier-- less likely to trigger bad memories."
"Makes sense," John said, nodding.
"Which one of us do you want?" Rodney asked.
Carson hesitated, looking between the two, discomfort and worry on his face.
"Hey, you won't hurt our feelings. You need to have just one of us here. We understand that," John said.
"We just want you to feel good," Rodney said.
Carson nodded. He wanted that too, but more than that, he wanted to feel whole again. He thought about them, about their bodies up against him. John-- lithe, strong, and muscular-- and Rodney-- broad, sturdy, and just the slightest bit soft. Memories of warriors holding him down threatened to flood his mind, but he pushed them away. "Rodney," he decided.
John smiled, leaned forward and kissed him. "Good. Take care. I'm going to take a long run. Okay?"
Carson met his eyes, seeing only affection there. "Ye don't mind, then?"
"No. I don't mind. I love you two." He kissed Carson again and then leaned further in and kissed Rodney. "Take good care of him."
"Yes, yes, and return him in the same condition," Rodney answered.
John grinned. "Oh, no. I want to find him thoroughly sated and incoherent when I get home."
Rodney laughed. "I'll do my best."
Carson cupped John's cheek. "Thank you, John."
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence when John walked out, then Carson rolled off the couch and offered his hand to Rodney. "Let's take this to the bedroom, love."
Rodney grinned. "As you wish."
He had a moment of panic as they walked into the bedroom, wanting to be naked, wanting Rodney naked, and yet fearing the touch of skin on skin. "Um. I think I want us to stay dressed for a while."
"Okay," Rodney said, sitting down on the bed and patting the mattress beside him.
Carson sat nervously. "I... I don't know that I'm up for anything too..." He swallowed hard.
Rodney nodded. "I won't push." He reached up and ran the back of his hand along Carson's cheek. "Just relax."
Feeling strangely like a teenager on a first date, Carson leaned in and kissed Rodney. Rodney's mouth was soft and pliant and opened to him. Rodney slipped his arms around Carson's waist, holding gently but not too tight. Carson slipped one hand to the back of Rodney's head, sliding fingers into Rodney's soft hair. Carson ran his tongue teasingly across Rodney's lips, feeling his lover shudder against him.
Rodney's hands were moving slowly up and down his back, warm and gentle. Carson slid his tongue into Rodney's mouth, tasting his lover's familiar flavour. Rodney's tongue skimmed along Carson's. Carson was surprised to find himself already going hard.
Rodney turned them, laying back in the bed and pulling Carson atop him, maintaining the slow, sensual slide of tongues.
One hand eased under Carson's shirt hem and skated along his back. "This okay?" Rodney asked.
Carson nodded, reveling in the touch of Rodney's broad hand on his skin. "Feels good."
"Good." Rodney leaned up and pressed his lips to Carson's mouth, jaw, throat, the kisses tender, but burning. "I love you, Carson."
Carson moaned, leaning his head back to give Rodney's mouth access. "I love you too. Oh... Rodney..."
Rodney's lips closed over Carson's pulse point, sucking gently. Carson held his position with one hand while the other trailed up Rodney's side to a nipple. He traced it slowly through Rodney's shirt.
Rodney hummed appreciatively, the vibration of it tickling Carson's throat. Rodney's fingers curled around Carson's shirt hem and pulled it upward, exposing his abdomen and chest. Rodney laid his hand flat on Carson's stomach and paused, waiting for a reaction.
Carson breathed deep and arched forward. Rodney rubbed in slow circles, working outward and upward. Carson shuddered as Rodney's fingertips brushed a nipple.
"You okay?" Rodney asked.
Carson closed his eyes, his nerves singing with desire, his heart fluttering. "Good. Very good, love."
"You're so..." Rodney fell silent.
Carson opened his eyes and looked into Rodney's face, Rodney's blue eyes full of emotion. "So what, love?"
Rodney licked his lips. "Beautiful."
Carson smiled and leaned down, taking Rodney's mouth in a desperate kiss. Their bodies moved against each other, pleasure and desire stronger than the shiver of fear that touched the edges of Carson's consciousness.
"I want you," Rodney whispered.
"I don't know what I can do. Between the tactile memories and the scent..."
Rodney cupped his face. "I have an idea. Do you trust me?"
Carson turned his head and kissed Rodney's palm. "Aye, love, I do."
"Lie down. Just relax," Rodney said, kissing him.
Carson rolled off, settling flat on the bed. Rodney slipped Carson's shirt up and bent over, mouth closing over a nipple, tongue tracing the aureole slowly.
"Oh, God!" Carson gasped, arching up.
Rodney pulled off. "I said relax." He leaned over and tongued the other nipple.
"Nnnguh!" Carson fisted Rodney's shirt, pulling him closer.
Rodney's hand swept down Carson's stomach, his fingers dipping into the waistband, teasing.
All thought but the need for Rodney-- his touch, his taste, his heat-- fled Carson's mind. Each circle of Rodney's hand brought his fingers skimming further under Carson's waistband until finally, mercifully, Rodney paused and undid the button and zipper.
"Can I take these off?" Rodney asked.
Carson nodded, then wiggled as Rodney worked them off his hips and down his legs. Rodney pulled Carson's socks off, too, leaving him in only the shirt rucked up under his armpits.
Maddeningly, instead of returning to Carson's erection, Rodney slid his hands up Carson's legs and then back down, each upward stroke coming a little closer.
Carson moaned in frustration. "Bastard."
"I'll get there." His fingers trailed lightly along Carson's inner thighs, making Carson shiver in anticipation, then traced the crease between leg and torso.
"You're going to kill me," Carson gasped.
"You can't die now," Rodney teased, fingers brushing into Carson's pubic hair.
"Please!" Carson begged.
"Please what? This?" His fingers curled, warm and firm around Carson's erection.
"Oh, God, yes!"
"Or maybe this..." And Carson found his cock engulfed in the wet heat of Rodney's mouth.
"Hhng! Ah! Muh!"
Rodney slid off, licking a stripe up Carson's erection. "I'll take that as an affirmative." And then he was sliding his mouth down Carson's cock again, sucking lightly as he went.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, some small part of him was observing that Rodney could be a smug bastard even at the most intimate of times, but it was drowned out in the litany of yes, YES, YES. It was more than the pleasure that Rodney was giving him, but that it was Rodney, his beloved. Older memories resurfaced-- memories of pleasure and intimacy and love that had been quelled by the horror and humiliation.
Here was John, head thrown back in laughter as Rodney and Carson tickled him. Here was Rodney curled around him as he read a letter from his mother. John, muddy from head to toe, dancing with his ridiculous football after a touchdown, Athosian kids surrounding him. Rodney lecturing, sandwich in hand. John and Rodney together, kissing, moving, Carson's hand held tightly in theirs. Images and sensations of kisses, caresses, simple cuddling, intense lovemaking, all wrapped in a sense of love, belonging, oneness, acceptance. Safety.
Carson thrust up into Rodney's mouth, watching as Rodney's took him in, eyes closed, lost in concentration on pleasuring him. He reached down and slipped his fingers into Rodney's hair, smiling at a sudden memory of Rodney complaining-- "You two and your hair fetish! I'm going to go bald, I swear." Rodney swept his hands up Carson's sides, holding him, warm and strong and solid.
Rodney glanced up at him through thick eyelashes, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. Even as the heat began to pool at the base of his spine, Carson felt as if his heart were full to bursting. "Oh, love," he murmured, unable to put into words what he was feeling. "Oh, God! I love you! Oh, God..." The sensation overwhelmed him and he closed his eyes as he throbbed into Rodney's mouth, feeling his lover swallow and swallow again.
He sank back into the pillow, fingers carding through Rodney's hair. Rodney continued to hold him in his mouth through each aftershock, hands gently moving on his sides, and then he simply laid his head on Carson's hip, still holding him. "You okay?"
He felt like he could fly with the weight lifted from him. The physician in him warned that there was a long way to go, but there was light where he hadn't seen any before "Aye, love, I'm fine. Thank you. Thank you..."
Rodney kissed his hip. "Love you, Carson."
He sat up a bit to look down at Rodney's face, shining with sweat. "Um. Do you need... anything?" He wasn't sure what he could do, but still...
Rodney looked up, a half-smile quirking his lips. "Actually, no. I, ah, kind of already came."
"Oh."
"I should probably go clean up, rinse my mouth out."
"Mm. In a bit."
When John returned some time later, they were still curled up like that, Rodney fully dressed and Carson in only a shirt, sleeping peacefully.
AN: Scherzando is a musical term meaning "playfully"
Next part
Author: SGAtlantisLight
Characters: McKay, Sheppard, Beckett
Relationships: Beckett/McKay/Sheppard
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Mention of non-con, major character whumpage, smut.
Spoilers: Much dialogue from the movie The Princess Bride
Summary: They had rescued him, but they had yet to truly bring him safely home. Part of the Aleatoric Life series.
Disclaimer: Undoubtedly I own them, and a whole lot of other things, in some universe, but not this one.
Carson sat between his lovers, listening to them quote the movie as they went along.
"'Probably some local fisherman, out for a pleasure cruise, at night... in... eel-infested waters...'" Rodney said as he slipped an arm around Carson, pulling him closer.
"So, if we were doing this as a play, who would we cast for what parts?" John asked, curling a hand over Carson's thigh.
"You'd have to be Inigo," Rodney opined.
"Not Westley? I want to be the Dread Pirate Roberts."
"You can't, because I'm Westley!"
"Says who?" John demanded.
"Says me. He's the brains of the group, so it's got to be me."
"You're Vizzini. You can't be Westley."
"Vizzini? No way. I'd never do anything so idiotic. We'd have to cast Radek or someone as Vizzini."
Carson shushed them. "Unlike you two, I haven't got the movie memorised and I'd like to hear it."
They fell silent for a while, with occasional interjections of dialogue.
"'You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means,'" John quoted in perfect accent.
"See?" Rodney said.
"So what? We could, you know, cast an actual Spaniard in the part."
"No good. I've known too many Spaniards," Rodney said.
"That's later in the movie."
"I know that! It--"
"Please!" Carson said.
They shut up.
"Oh, I love this fight scene!" John said.
They started quoting again.
"I... am not left-handed!" they both said at once.
"See, see! There's no way you could do that acrobatic maneuver."
"And you could?" Rodney snorted.
Carson snuggled closer to Rodney and pulled his feet up onto the couch and into John's lap. John began absently stroking his sock-covered feet and legs, while Rodney slipped both arms around him and dropped a kiss on his shoulder.
This distracted his lovers for a while.
"'My way's not very sportsman-like,'" John quoted.
"Who do we cast for Fezzik?" Rodney asked.
"Ronon?"
"That could work. Buttercup?"
"Hmmm... Not sure."
"Teyla? Elizabeth?" Carson suggested.
"Nah. Neither of them is that passive," John said.
"Yes, and Ronon acts a lot like Fezzik. We're casting for looks, not personality," Rodney said.
"'You mean, you'll put down your rock and I'll put down my sword, and we'll try and kill each other like civilized people?'" John quoted. "Then how's come you want to be Westley?"
"Okay, okay, maybe we are casting for personality."
"Cadman," John suggested.
Rodney made a gagging noise.
Carson slipped his hands on top of Rodney's and pulled them tighter around his waist. "Oh, John! That feels good."
"Yeah?" John fell silent, watching and massaging Carson's feet.
"'Rest well and dream of large women,'" Rodney cackled.
"You're still not Westley," John argued.
"Am so."
"Maybe we should watch this later," Carson suggested.
"Party pooper," John pouted.
"Let me put it this way. Have you ever heard of Plato, Aristotle, Socrates?" Vizzini said on the screen.
"'Morons!'" Rodney joined in with Vizzini.
"Told you. You're Vizzini," John said.
Carson sighed.
"Sorry, sorry," Rodney said.
"Hee! Iocaine powder! I love this bit."
Rodney started quoting Vizzini's attempt at deduction.
"'Truly, you have a dizzying intellect,'" John deadpanned with the Man in Black.
Carson nudged John's hand with his foot and John went back to his foot rub.
"'You fool! You fell victim to one of the classic blunders! The most famous is never get involved in a land war in Asia, but only slightly less well-known is this: never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line!'" Rodney even managed to do the laughs on cue.
"I think I'm a little frightened of his memorisation abilities," Carson commented to John.
"And yet he can't remember names."
"Oh, please, you try to keep track of Zelenka, Zherenkova, Satyanarayana, Zafiropoulos and a couple hundred other names and see if you do any better."
"Hey! I have to keep track of names."
"Yes. But for the most part, they're American names."
"Oh, here it comes! 'Aaaas... youuuu... wiiiiish!'" John mock-yelled.
"I'm still the better choice for Westley."
"What do you think, Carson?" John asked.
"I think he'd make a lovely Buttercup."
John cracked up.
Rodney harrumphed. "Why are we taking the word of Miracle Max, anyway?"
"I don't even want to think who might be Valerie."
"Or Humperdinck or Rugen," Carson added.
"Kolya for Rugen," Rodney said.
His lovers fell silent. Carson pulled Rodney's arm up and kissed the scar there.
John leaned over, hand on Carson's thigh, and kissed first Rodney, then Carson. Carson closed his eyes and accepted the kiss, letting his body respond to the presence, feel, and smell of his lovers.
"We'll never survive!" Buttercup despaired.
"Nonsense. You're only saying that because no one ever has," Westley answered.
Carson thought perhaps Westley had the right attitude. He dropped his hand to the floor and fished around till he found the remote and found the power button by feel. As the sound died and the screen went blank, John broke the kiss and sat back, looking at Carson questioningly. Carson took a breath, feeling his heart pound. "I want to try making love to you-- at least one of you-- but we may need to figure out what might work first."
"Okay," John said. "Do you need just one of us here?"
Carson bit his lip. "Kate thought it might be easier-- less likely to trigger bad memories."
"Makes sense," John said, nodding.
"Which one of us do you want?" Rodney asked.
Carson hesitated, looking between the two, discomfort and worry on his face.
"Hey, you won't hurt our feelings. You need to have just one of us here. We understand that," John said.
"We just want you to feel good," Rodney said.
Carson nodded. He wanted that too, but more than that, he wanted to feel whole again. He thought about them, about their bodies up against him. John-- lithe, strong, and muscular-- and Rodney-- broad, sturdy, and just the slightest bit soft. Memories of warriors holding him down threatened to flood his mind, but he pushed them away. "Rodney," he decided.
John smiled, leaned forward and kissed him. "Good. Take care. I'm going to take a long run. Okay?"
Carson met his eyes, seeing only affection there. "Ye don't mind, then?"
"No. I don't mind. I love you two." He kissed Carson again and then leaned further in and kissed Rodney. "Take good care of him."
"Yes, yes, and return him in the same condition," Rodney answered.
John grinned. "Oh, no. I want to find him thoroughly sated and incoherent when I get home."
Rodney laughed. "I'll do my best."
Carson cupped John's cheek. "Thank you, John."
There was a moment of uncomfortable silence when John walked out, then Carson rolled off the couch and offered his hand to Rodney. "Let's take this to the bedroom, love."
Rodney grinned. "As you wish."
He had a moment of panic as they walked into the bedroom, wanting to be naked, wanting Rodney naked, and yet fearing the touch of skin on skin. "Um. I think I want us to stay dressed for a while."
"Okay," Rodney said, sitting down on the bed and patting the mattress beside him.
Carson sat nervously. "I... I don't know that I'm up for anything too..." He swallowed hard.
Rodney nodded. "I won't push." He reached up and ran the back of his hand along Carson's cheek. "Just relax."
Feeling strangely like a teenager on a first date, Carson leaned in and kissed Rodney. Rodney's mouth was soft and pliant and opened to him. Rodney slipped his arms around Carson's waist, holding gently but not too tight. Carson slipped one hand to the back of Rodney's head, sliding fingers into Rodney's soft hair. Carson ran his tongue teasingly across Rodney's lips, feeling his lover shudder against him.
Rodney's hands were moving slowly up and down his back, warm and gentle. Carson slid his tongue into Rodney's mouth, tasting his lover's familiar flavour. Rodney's tongue skimmed along Carson's. Carson was surprised to find himself already going hard.
Rodney turned them, laying back in the bed and pulling Carson atop him, maintaining the slow, sensual slide of tongues.
One hand eased under Carson's shirt hem and skated along his back. "This okay?" Rodney asked.
Carson nodded, reveling in the touch of Rodney's broad hand on his skin. "Feels good."
"Good." Rodney leaned up and pressed his lips to Carson's mouth, jaw, throat, the kisses tender, but burning. "I love you, Carson."
Carson moaned, leaning his head back to give Rodney's mouth access. "I love you too. Oh... Rodney..."
Rodney's lips closed over Carson's pulse point, sucking gently. Carson held his position with one hand while the other trailed up Rodney's side to a nipple. He traced it slowly through Rodney's shirt.
Rodney hummed appreciatively, the vibration of it tickling Carson's throat. Rodney's fingers curled around Carson's shirt hem and pulled it upward, exposing his abdomen and chest. Rodney laid his hand flat on Carson's stomach and paused, waiting for a reaction.
Carson breathed deep and arched forward. Rodney rubbed in slow circles, working outward and upward. Carson shuddered as Rodney's fingertips brushed a nipple.
"You okay?" Rodney asked.
Carson closed his eyes, his nerves singing with desire, his heart fluttering. "Good. Very good, love."
"You're so..." Rodney fell silent.
Carson opened his eyes and looked into Rodney's face, Rodney's blue eyes full of emotion. "So what, love?"
Rodney licked his lips. "Beautiful."
Carson smiled and leaned down, taking Rodney's mouth in a desperate kiss. Their bodies moved against each other, pleasure and desire stronger than the shiver of fear that touched the edges of Carson's consciousness.
"I want you," Rodney whispered.
"I don't know what I can do. Between the tactile memories and the scent..."
Rodney cupped his face. "I have an idea. Do you trust me?"
Carson turned his head and kissed Rodney's palm. "Aye, love, I do."
"Lie down. Just relax," Rodney said, kissing him.
Carson rolled off, settling flat on the bed. Rodney slipped Carson's shirt up and bent over, mouth closing over a nipple, tongue tracing the aureole slowly.
"Oh, God!" Carson gasped, arching up.
Rodney pulled off. "I said relax." He leaned over and tongued the other nipple.
"Nnnguh!" Carson fisted Rodney's shirt, pulling him closer.
Rodney's hand swept down Carson's stomach, his fingers dipping into the waistband, teasing.
All thought but the need for Rodney-- his touch, his taste, his heat-- fled Carson's mind. Each circle of Rodney's hand brought his fingers skimming further under Carson's waistband until finally, mercifully, Rodney paused and undid the button and zipper.
"Can I take these off?" Rodney asked.
Carson nodded, then wiggled as Rodney worked them off his hips and down his legs. Rodney pulled Carson's socks off, too, leaving him in only the shirt rucked up under his armpits.
Maddeningly, instead of returning to Carson's erection, Rodney slid his hands up Carson's legs and then back down, each upward stroke coming a little closer.
Carson moaned in frustration. "Bastard."
"I'll get there." His fingers trailed lightly along Carson's inner thighs, making Carson shiver in anticipation, then traced the crease between leg and torso.
"You're going to kill me," Carson gasped.
"You can't die now," Rodney teased, fingers brushing into Carson's pubic hair.
"Please!" Carson begged.
"Please what? This?" His fingers curled, warm and firm around Carson's erection.
"Oh, God, yes!"
"Or maybe this..." And Carson found his cock engulfed in the wet heat of Rodney's mouth.
"Hhng! Ah! Muh!"
Rodney slid off, licking a stripe up Carson's erection. "I'll take that as an affirmative." And then he was sliding his mouth down Carson's cock again, sucking lightly as he went.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, some small part of him was observing that Rodney could be a smug bastard even at the most intimate of times, but it was drowned out in the litany of yes, YES, YES. It was more than the pleasure that Rodney was giving him, but that it was Rodney, his beloved. Older memories resurfaced-- memories of pleasure and intimacy and love that had been quelled by the horror and humiliation.
Here was John, head thrown back in laughter as Rodney and Carson tickled him. Here was Rodney curled around him as he read a letter from his mother. John, muddy from head to toe, dancing with his ridiculous football after a touchdown, Athosian kids surrounding him. Rodney lecturing, sandwich in hand. John and Rodney together, kissing, moving, Carson's hand held tightly in theirs. Images and sensations of kisses, caresses, simple cuddling, intense lovemaking, all wrapped in a sense of love, belonging, oneness, acceptance. Safety.
Carson thrust up into Rodney's mouth, watching as Rodney's took him in, eyes closed, lost in concentration on pleasuring him. He reached down and slipped his fingers into Rodney's hair, smiling at a sudden memory of Rodney complaining-- "You two and your hair fetish! I'm going to go bald, I swear." Rodney swept his hands up Carson's sides, holding him, warm and strong and solid.
Rodney glanced up at him through thick eyelashes, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. Even as the heat began to pool at the base of his spine, Carson felt as if his heart were full to bursting. "Oh, love," he murmured, unable to put into words what he was feeling. "Oh, God! I love you! Oh, God..." The sensation overwhelmed him and he closed his eyes as he throbbed into Rodney's mouth, feeling his lover swallow and swallow again.
He sank back into the pillow, fingers carding through Rodney's hair. Rodney continued to hold him in his mouth through each aftershock, hands gently moving on his sides, and then he simply laid his head on Carson's hip, still holding him. "You okay?"
He felt like he could fly with the weight lifted from him. The physician in him warned that there was a long way to go, but there was light where he hadn't seen any before "Aye, love, I'm fine. Thank you. Thank you..."
Rodney kissed his hip. "Love you, Carson."
He sat up a bit to look down at Rodney's face, shining with sweat. "Um. Do you need... anything?" He wasn't sure what he could do, but still...
Rodney looked up, a half-smile quirking his lips. "Actually, no. I, ah, kind of already came."
"Oh."
"I should probably go clean up, rinse my mouth out."
"Mm. In a bit."
When John returned some time later, they were still curled up like that, Rodney fully dressed and Carson in only a shirt, sleeping peacefully.
AN: Scherzando is a musical term meaning "playfully"
Next part