FIC: Putting Your Body (SGA/SG-1, Jack/John, NC-17)
Putting Your Body (wherever it seemed like a good idea)
Author: telesilla
Fandom/Pairing: SGA/SG-1, Jack/John, implied Daniel/Rodney
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 730
Disclaimer: The SGA characters do not belong to me. Duh.
Summary: Like Rodney, John gets caught in the crossfire between Jack and Daniel.
Notes: A while back, anatsuno asked for some Rodney/Daniel fic. I obliged with Imagine Me Behind Your Eyes, a Daniel/Rodney piece from Rodney's POV. helens78 followed it with Forever Not Yours", a short Daniel POV piece set as the Atlantis Expedition was leaving the SGC in "Rising." In turn, I wrote this, which for some reason never made it out of the comments in ana's LJ and into either of my journals or my site. It actually takes place in between "Imagine Me" and "Forever Not Yours."
John wasn't wild about Colorado Springs or Stargate Command. Cheyenne Mountain reminded him a little too much of his nuclear childhood and fears that were backed up by knowledge most kids his age didn't have, and then there was the fact that no one gave a damn about him much beyond the fact that he could touch things and have them light up. Even the knowledge that he could wander around with both non-regulation hair and a non-regulation attitude and no one could really touch him didn't make it any better.
And so he drew inward, something that had never been too hard for him to do, and just observed. There were currents within currents here; General Landry didn't like Dr. Weir but General O'Neill did. On the other hand Dr. Weir liked that McKay guy and it was really obvious that General O'Neill disliked him above and beyond not liking him because he was an arrogant asshole. Dr. Jackson liked everyone, but he seemed to like McKay in particular and while neither of them really pinged John's gaydar much, he was pretty sure there's something there.
Lucky civilians, he thought after a long day spent meeting people whose names he'd already forgotten and touching Ancient tech. The tech always left him a little jittery, made him feel like there was something just out of reach and if he'd only pay attention, he'd know what it was.
Wish I could have a little something.... The thought trailed off. He probably could have that something; they seemed to want him badly enough that one more mark against him wouldn't make a difference. And if it did? Well fuck them.
All it took was a little investigating online and John was parking his rental in the parking lot of the Hide and Seek ("one of the oldest and largest gays bars in the West"), glad his non-regulation hair cut wouldn't give him away. Not that the place probably wasn't full of off-duty Air Force but still, he'd rather just find some guy who wanted to exchange blow jobs and not have to deal with the rest of the bullshit that came with pretending you weren't gonna see the guy on base the next day.
"I wouldn't go in there if I were you."
John turned and there was General O'Neill leaning against a pick up truck. He was wearing civvies and John gave him a fairly obvious once over, thinking yet again that he could only hope to look that good when he hit that age.
"Any particular reason?" John asked, leaning against his car and tilting one hip toward O'Neill just a little. He felt the familiar sense of triumph when he saw O'Neill stare at the front of John's slightly too tight 501s.
"You'll pay too much for a beer."
"So where do I go to get a decent beer around here?" It was all automatic now and John wasn't at all surprised when O'Neill smirked at him.
"Got some in the fridge back at my place."
Ten minutes later, John was on his knees in O'Neill's front hallway, his eyes blissfully closed as he held still and let O'Neill fuck his face. Oh yeah...oh hell yeah, he thought, reaching down to jerk himself off.
"Don't," O'Neill said before grabbing John's head and thrusting sharply enough to bruise the back of John's throat. John moaned and swallowed as O'Neill came hard, his fingers tight in John's hair.
Before he could think very much, O'Neill was sitting on the floor next to him reaching for John's cock. He was almost ruthless as he jerked John off and John cried out breathlessly as his hips worked and he thrust over and over into O'Neill's hand. His orgasm slammed through him, leaving him wrecked and mindless afterwards.
He didn't leave O'Neill's place until the next morning. They'd spent the evening drinking beer and talking about some of the weird shit Jack--"might as well use my name"--had seen. By the time Jack rolled John over and fucked him hard, John had heard a hell of a lot about Daniel Jackson as well.
Now, watching Jackson and McKay talk about something and watching Jack glare at McKay while Jackson sneaked peeks at Jack and McKay seemed to be utterly oblivious, John felt used beyond the ache in his throat and ass.
Not that he minded, but it kind of made him wonder if McKay ever felt the same way.
-end-
Author: telesilla
Fandom/Pairing: SGA/SG-1, Jack/John, implied Daniel/Rodney
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 730
Disclaimer: The SGA characters do not belong to me. Duh.
Summary: Like Rodney, John gets caught in the crossfire between Jack and Daniel.
Notes: A while back, anatsuno asked for some Rodney/Daniel fic. I obliged with Imagine Me Behind Your Eyes, a Daniel/Rodney piece from Rodney's POV. helens78 followed it with Forever Not Yours", a short Daniel POV piece set as the Atlantis Expedition was leaving the SGC in "Rising." In turn, I wrote this, which for some reason never made it out of the comments in ana's LJ and into either of my journals or my site. It actually takes place in between "Imagine Me" and "Forever Not Yours."
John wasn't wild about Colorado Springs or Stargate Command. Cheyenne Mountain reminded him a little too much of his nuclear childhood and fears that were backed up by knowledge most kids his age didn't have, and then there was the fact that no one gave a damn about him much beyond the fact that he could touch things and have them light up. Even the knowledge that he could wander around with both non-regulation hair and a non-regulation attitude and no one could really touch him didn't make it any better.
And so he drew inward, something that had never been too hard for him to do, and just observed. There were currents within currents here; General Landry didn't like Dr. Weir but General O'Neill did. On the other hand Dr. Weir liked that McKay guy and it was really obvious that General O'Neill disliked him above and beyond not liking him because he was an arrogant asshole. Dr. Jackson liked everyone, but he seemed to like McKay in particular and while neither of them really pinged John's gaydar much, he was pretty sure there's something there.
Lucky civilians, he thought after a long day spent meeting people whose names he'd already forgotten and touching Ancient tech. The tech always left him a little jittery, made him feel like there was something just out of reach and if he'd only pay attention, he'd know what it was.
Wish I could have a little something.... The thought trailed off. He probably could have that something; they seemed to want him badly enough that one more mark against him wouldn't make a difference. And if it did? Well fuck them.
All it took was a little investigating online and John was parking his rental in the parking lot of the Hide and Seek ("one of the oldest and largest gays bars in the West"), glad his non-regulation hair cut wouldn't give him away. Not that the place probably wasn't full of off-duty Air Force but still, he'd rather just find some guy who wanted to exchange blow jobs and not have to deal with the rest of the bullshit that came with pretending you weren't gonna see the guy on base the next day.
"I wouldn't go in there if I were you."
John turned and there was General O'Neill leaning against a pick up truck. He was wearing civvies and John gave him a fairly obvious once over, thinking yet again that he could only hope to look that good when he hit that age.
"Any particular reason?" John asked, leaning against his car and tilting one hip toward O'Neill just a little. He felt the familiar sense of triumph when he saw O'Neill stare at the front of John's slightly too tight 501s.
"You'll pay too much for a beer."
"So where do I go to get a decent beer around here?" It was all automatic now and John wasn't at all surprised when O'Neill smirked at him.
"Got some in the fridge back at my place."
Ten minutes later, John was on his knees in O'Neill's front hallway, his eyes blissfully closed as he held still and let O'Neill fuck his face. Oh yeah...oh hell yeah, he thought, reaching down to jerk himself off.
"Don't," O'Neill said before grabbing John's head and thrusting sharply enough to bruise the back of John's throat. John moaned and swallowed as O'Neill came hard, his fingers tight in John's hair.
Before he could think very much, O'Neill was sitting on the floor next to him reaching for John's cock. He was almost ruthless as he jerked John off and John cried out breathlessly as his hips worked and he thrust over and over into O'Neill's hand. His orgasm slammed through him, leaving him wrecked and mindless afterwards.
He didn't leave O'Neill's place until the next morning. They'd spent the evening drinking beer and talking about some of the weird shit Jack--"might as well use my name"--had seen. By the time Jack rolled John over and fucked him hard, John had heard a hell of a lot about Daniel Jackson as well.
Now, watching Jackson and McKay talk about something and watching Jack glare at McKay while Jackson sneaked peeks at Jack and McKay seemed to be utterly oblivious, John felt used beyond the ache in his throat and ass.
Not that he minded, but it kind of made him wonder if McKay ever felt the same way.
-end-