Fandom(s): Stargate: Atlantis
Notes: This is for rilestar in exchange for her generous donation to fire_fic. It’s (finally!) the latest addition to the Crack AU sextet. Hee…I said “sex.”
Summary: "John," Rodney growls, "You need to fuck me already, or when it's my turn, I'll tie you to the bed and go watch the goddamn History Channel."
Rodney is not getting cruised in a military bar. An Air Force bar. Full of Air Force…people. One of whom seems to be cruising him in a subtle, not-very-Air Force-y way.
However, even Rodney knows that buying a guy a drink and motioning him over to your table is being cruised. Or at least pre-cruised. So Rodney picks up his Molson and tries not to look too obvious while walking to the small table in the back of the bar.
The guy – wearing jeans and a black tee shirt – couldn't pass for anything but military. He sits with his back to the wall, and his casual slouch is belied by the way his sharp eyes take in everything around him. Rodney'd lay money that the beer he's drinking is the same one he's nursed all night. This guy's military from the soles of his hiking boots to the tips of his just-barely-regulation hair.
He's also incredibly hot and, apparently, into Rodney. Weird.
Rodney slides into the empty seat and can't help his questioning look. "John Sheppard."
Rodney takes the extended hand automatically and shakes it. "Rodney McKay." As the handshake ends, Sheppard draws the tips of his fingers across the palm of Rodney's hand. Yep, pretty subtle.
Rodney takes a sip of his beer and looks around. There's a rowdy game of pool going on in the back, a rowdier game of darts off to one side, and a knot of men and women around the bar, doing the circling maneuvers that come naturally to sharks.
"You work at Nellis?" Sheppard asks.
Rodney nods. "Civilian contractor. You?"
"Pilot." Sheppard drinks the rest of his beer and sets the bottle on the table. "Wanna get out of here?"
Rodney knows that his mouth drops open for a second by Sheppard's amused grin. Rodney recovers and drinks about half his beer before nodding.
Sheppard is throwing bills down on the table and giving Rodney a sideways look when a voice booms out. "Yo, Shep! You're not leaving already, are you?"
The voice belongs to a tall guy with jug ears and a wide Midwestern smile.
"Hey, Howie," John says casually. "This is my old buddy Dr. Rodney McKay. Rodney, this is Howie Franklin, fellow pilot."
Rodney shakes hands with Franklin, who looks like an eager puppy and doesn't give Rodney any indication that he realizes he's stepped into a pickup.
"You visiting?" Franklin asks, and Rodney opens his mouth to reply. Sheppard cuts him off.
"Rodney just got reassigned here. He's heading up the Physics labs. We haven't seen each other in a while."
Franklin smiles. "Jeeze, Shep. Why don't you take him somewhere nicer than this dive? He'll think Nevada sucks."
"We were just leaving," Sheppard says, then ushers Rodney out from behind the table.
Out in the parking lot, Rodney turns to Sheppard. "How the hell did you know so much about me?" he demands.
"Pilot," Sheppard says, grinning. "Superior vision." He leans in, and Rodney thinks Sheppard is going to kiss him, right there outside an Air Force bar filled with straight Air Force men who have no idea that their good buddy likes cock. Oh, well. It was a good life while it lasted.
But there's no kiss. Sheppard leans in further and flicks the security badge that Rodney hadn't even realized he was still wearing.
"Name. Title. Department. The badge is brand new, and you have Level 2 clearance." He runs a finger along the yellow stripe at the bottom of the badge. "So, I know who you are, where you work, that you just got here, and your clearance level."
"Oh, don't be smug," Rodney says. "I can surmise a few things about you, too."
Sheppard raises an eyebrow and makes a "come on" gesture with his face, which Rodney didn't even know was possible.
"I know your name; I know you're a pilot."
"I told you that stuff," Sheppard says.
"Ah," Rodney says, raising a finger. He waggles it, then points. "That is your car. And you fly fighters." Rodney is pointing to a flawlessly restored late '60's GTO. "A lot of engine for its size. That car and fighters. And maybe you, too."
"Wanna find out?" Sheppard smirks and Rodney nods decisively.
"Where do you live?" Shepparda asks.
"The Pines," Rodney says, naming a huge apartment complex a few miles from the base. "Follow me home?"
Sheppard nods, and Rodney laughs when he pulls his keys out of his pocket and walks straight to the GTO.
Getting to Rodney's place is complicated. There's a gate into the complex, and then a series of turns and doglegs to negotiate before getting there. Rodney has to stop several times to wait for Sheppard to catch up after taking wrong turns.
In front of his building, Rodney looks over the top of his car at Sheppard. "How can you be a pilot if you have such a crappy sense of direction? You were following me and you got lost four times!"
"Three," Sheppard protests. "And I have a great sense of direction in the air."
Rodney waves a hand. "Up the stairs and to the left. That's the left on this side," he says, pointing.
Sheppard growls at him, and Rodney sprints for the stairs with a smile on his face. Sheppard catches him on the landing.
"Which left was that again?" Sheppard says, then presses Rodney's back against the concrete wall.
Rodney, ever the smartass, twitches his hips to the left, happy to feel Sheppard's interest on the rise.
"Thataway," he says.
Sheppard presses back, grinding his hips against Rodney's. "This is gonna be fun," Sheppard says. "You're gonna be fun."
Rodney reaches up with both hands and cups John's face, pulling them together in an exploratory kiss. Sheppard's lips are slick and soft – a little hesitant – so Rodney keeps it slow.
Sheppard seems to gain momentum after that, and Rodney intensifies the kiss, sliding his tongue into Sheppard's hot mouth, putting one hand into thick hair to pull Sheppard's head to the side, to position him exactly. By the time they finish the kiss, they're both hard. Rodney drops his hands to Sheppard's hips and reels him in all the way until they're pressed so tightly together that Rodney can feel the zipper of Sheppard's jeans against his own. Their breathing is so hard that they don't even hear the light feet on the stairs.
Rodney buries his face in John's neck as his neighbor – the 50-ish lady with three cats – passes them and says, "Jeeze, McKay. Get a room," while grinning back over her shoulder.
"Yeah," Sheppard says into Rodney's hair. "Let's get a room."
Upstairs, Rodney opens the door. When he closes it behind Sheppard he's suddenly a little uncertain. It's been a long, long time since he's had a one-night-stand, and it's been at least since grad school that he's taken someone home with him.
Sheppard must sense something. He smiles, and it's almost sweet – there's much less smirkiness than on the stairs. "You all right, McKay?" he says, laying a gentle hand on Rodney's arm.
Rodney smiles back. "I'm okay. I just don't do this very often."
"Me either," Sheppard says. He gestures to his hair. "You know…military."
Rodney looks up. "I guess you have to be careful.”
"Yeah," Sheppard says. "It's kind of a pain, but I really do like my job."
Rodney shrugs, and – like the sun coming up – Sheppard smiles. "This is supposed to be fun," he says. "You wanna have some fun?"
Rodney feels his own happy smile break through. "I want to have a lot of fun." He reaches up to but his hand on the back of Sheppard's neck and pulls him close.
Sheppard doesn't resist, and soon they're kissing; it's just as hot as it had been on the landing. Rodney groans when Sheppard's hands roam, touching his biceps, his neck, the small of his back, his ass.
"Sheppard," Rodney moans when he pulls back.
"John," Sheppard says, his grip on Rodney's ass tightening.
Rodney leans in for another kiss, and he mutters "John" just before their mouths meet. Without breaking the kiss, Rodney starts backing John toward the bedroom. Once they're next to the bed, Rodney struggles to get John's shirt off, revealing a toned, hairy chest. He pulls his own shirt off and gets them skin-to-skin.
"How are we doing this?" John asks. "Top or bottom?"
"Either," Rodney says into the hot skin of John's throat. "You?"
"Either," John says, tilting his head back.
Rodney pulls away and grins at John. "Two switches," he says. "That could be a recipe for disaster."
John gives him a dirty smile. "If we fuck twice, everybody gets what they like."
"You may overestimate my abilities,” Rodney says. "But with an incentive like you, I'm willing to give it a go."
In answer, John runs his hand down to Rodney's belt, toying with the buckle. "Can I go first?" He says.
"Which way?" Rodney has to laugh at the complicated negotiations.
"Let me fuck you, Rodney." John sounds like he's asking, which Rodney can barely believe.
"God, yes," Rodney says.
John undoes Rodney's belt, letting his fingers brush the skin of Rodney's belly. Rodney shivers at the contact. He starts to shake in earnest when John slips his hand into Rodney's boxers, and brushes his fingers over the head of Rodney's cock.
"You like it when I tease you, Rodney?" John's voice has gone low, and Rodney loves it.
"I think I do," he says. "Just don't make me wait too long."
John leans in to drop a kiss on the notch between Rodney's collarbones. "I'll try," he says, "but no promises."
Rodney looks at John, and God, he's hot -- wet lips and shining eyes and wicked smile. Rodney runs his hand into John's hair and pulls him in for a kiss. John leans their bodies together and Rodney takes control, using the tip of his tongue to tease John's lips until he opens his mouth and lets Rodney's tongue slide inside. Rodney's hands roam John's back, and Rodney uses his nails to trace circles on the soft skin that covers John's muscles.
John moans incoherently into his throat and Rodney kind of wishes for the sharpness of teeth in his neck. As if he's some sort of mind reader, John works his way to the place above Rodney's collarbone and mouths the skin there, letting his teeth brush gently.
"More." Rodney's gasp turns into a long moan and John digs in a little, his hands squeezing Rodney's ass harder.
"More," Rodney says again, and John laughs against his shoulder.
"You sure?" he says.
"Just do it," Rodney groans.
John licks over the front of Rodney's shoulder, then strikes, biting Rodney just where neck and shoulder meet. Rodney can feel the sharpness of John's teeth, the working of his tongue as he sucks his mouthful of flesh.
John doesn't let up, and Rodney can't stop his rough panting.
John eases away, still sucking on Rodney's neck, his mouth coming loose with a wet pop.
Rodney can't help reaching up to touch the spot, to press down and feel the pain flare.
"Fuck," John says reverently. "That's fucking hot."
Rodney doesn't waste a moment, dropping his hands to John's hips and pushing at his jeans. "You need to be naked," he pants. "I want to see you."
When John's clothes are littering the floor, Rodney pushes him onto the bed. When John tries to pull him down, Rodney resists. "No," he says, "let me look."
"I...." John says, and Rodney gives him the look he usually saves for his moronic lab techs. John quiets, but his edgy smile says he's letting Rodney have his way.
John's long and lanky – long legs, long torso, long arms and long cock...hard and dark against his lean belly.
"Hmmm. Nice." Rodney says, and John looks away, a blush creeping up his neck. Rodney represses a smile. "That can't be the first time you've heard that."
Rodney strips his clothes off and walks to the side of the bed. He shivers as John's callused finger traces the vein on the underside of his cock. John's eyes follow the motion of his finger as it glides up Rodney's belly and into the hair under his navel, ruffling it.
"You want something?” Rodney says.
"Want your mouth," John says, and Rodney gets onto the bed.
John barely lets him settle before Rodney finds himself flipped onto his back with John draped over him. Rodney opens his mouth to speak but John is faster -- he ducks in for a kiss. Rodney completely forgets what he was going to say.
John pretty much turns into a shark then, nipping at Rodney's lips, breaking away to bite lightly up and down Rodney's neck. When he reaches his mark, John sinks his teeth into it again, sucking and biting.
"Fuck .... god, fuck. John," Rodney says in a low, hoarse voice. The pain makes him jerk and squirm, but he makes a small sound of protest when John's mouth leaves him.
"Don't worry," John says. "I’ve got plenty more planned for you."
When John said he was a tease, Rodney had no idea what he was in for. John works him over from his ears to the backs of his knees. Rodney makes sounds he didn't even know he could make. When he's sure he can’t stand any more, John pushes him higher, makes him shake even harder before he pulls back.
Rodney reaches for John and gets pushed back onto the bed for his trouble. "Not done," John says.
Rodney moans. "I don't know if I can take any more."
"Yes you can," John says, "Because I am so not done with you."
Rodney watches while John tosses one of the pillows to the floor, making it land beside the bed.
He looks at Rodney. "Think you can get on your knees for me, Rodney?"
Rodney's not exactly flexible, but he makes the drop as gracefully as he can and kneels with the bed to his back.
"Other way," John says, with a hand on Rodney's shoulder, guiding the turn. Once Rodney's settled, John turns to the bedside table. He rummages a bit, then moves to stand behind Rodney, then sinks down to drape himself over Rodney's back.
"Fuck me," Rodney says. He moans brokenly when John pushes his upper body down onto the bed and spreads Rodney's legs wide with his knees. Rodney hears the lube snap open, but doesn't hear the telltale sound of a condom being opened.
"We have to be careful," Rodney says.
John rests his forehead on Rodney's back and kisses over his spine. "I know," John says. "We're not there yet, not by a long shot."
Rodney bangs his own forehead against the bed and huffs out a weak laugh. John lifts his head, then blows a breath across Rodney's sweaty skin.
"I warned you," he says. "I told you I'd tease."
"And I said you shouldn't make me wait too long."
"Trust me," John says. "You'll make it."
Rodney takes in a deep breath when slick fingers trace against the back of his balls. He pants when they rub gently back and forth.
"See, Rodney," John says, "I just want to talk to you for a while."
"Yeah," John says.
Rodney pushes back, trying to get John moving. It doesn't work.
"We have to be careful," John says, "but if we didn't, I'd kiss you right here." He gives Rodney's perineum a firm stroke, edging further toward where Rodney wants him to be.
"Yeah?" Rodney says, "right there?"
John nods, and Rodney feels the scrape of whiskers against his back. John's hand moves away and Rodney hears the lube cap again. "Yeah," John says. "And then I'd lick you here." As he says the words, John strokes the backs of two of his fingers all the way up, slicking lube all the way to the top of the cleft of Rodney's ass. "Like this," John says repeating the move. "Long and slow, without even stopping, not for a while."
Rodney tightens his hands in the sheets with each stroke. The backs of John's fingers aren't actually like a tongue, but the slow slide is almost as good. John's hand is slick, and his knuckles press exactly where he wants them to, opening him up just a tiny bit each time.
"John, come on," he moans.
"Okay," John drawls, "Once I've gotten you all crazy," the lube snicked open again, "I'd push my tongue right here." John's fingers ease around Rodney's opening, the tips just catching on the rim before slipping away. "Then I'd stick it in a little." John licks the back of Rodney's neck and pushes his finger in to the first knuckle and wiggles it.
"John," Rodney growls, "You need to fuck me already, or when it's my turn, I'll tie you to the bed and go watch the goddamn History Channel."
He groans as John pushes his finger all the way in, then pulls out and goes back with two, easing them in slowly. When they're all the way in and twisting, Rodney's patience is gone.
"That's enough," he says, "I'm ready, you're a massive tease. Get a condom and get your cock in me before I kill you and leave your bikini-wearing body at the front gate of Nellis."
Rodney finally runs out of breath and then sucks in a lungful of air when he feels the head of John’s cock press against him. He can feel the condom, so that worry slips out of his head, replaced by the concern that John's going to hold off again.
Apparently, John's not that much of a tease, or Rodney's threats are getting through. John pushes forward, stopping about every inch or so. The slow entry lets Rodney feel every bit of John's cock as its slides in.
"That's so good," John says. "Christ, you feel good."
Rodney pushes his ass backward, desperate to get fucked.
John pushes his hand flat between Rodney's shoulder blades. "Don't rush me, Rodney," John says. "I don't get to do this much. Let me have it."
Rodney tries to get himself under control to give John what he wants.
"What do you usually get?" Rodney asks, trying to keep his voice level, despite the fact that John's cock is all the way in his ass, stretching him wide.
"Blow jobs," John pants slowly pulling out. "Hand jobs. Fucking." he pushes back in just as slowly. "Fast. Hard. Up against a bathroom wall, bent over a sink."
"You like that?" Rodney asks, momentarily coherent when John pulls back.
"Yeah," John grunts. "I do. And I like this; having plenty of time to do you slow."
"That is totally working for me," Rodney says.
After that, they shut up a lot. Rodney groans as he's speared on John's cock. John's own noises are quieter, as if by necessity. Rodney vows to make him get loud when it's his turn to drive.
Rodney starts clenching his ass down hard against John's cock on every stroke, and John speeds up just slightly.
"God," John whispers. "God.... Rodney...."
"Come on," Rodney answers. "Come on. Harder."
John's fingers tighten on Rodney's hips and he slams inside, freezing on the spot, his voice coming out as a quiet groan.
Rodney is breathing like a bellows, and he makes a surprised "ooof" when John falls down onto his back, his cheek pressing into Rodney's shoulder blade.
Before Rodney can complain about his unsatisfied cock, John's hand moves around and jerks him off fast and hard while pulling out and replacing his cock with two fingers. Rodney comes all over the bedspread and lowers their combined weight down onto the mattress.
He shudders as John pulls his fingers out and sits back. A second later, Rodney hears the condom hit the trashcan. John crawls up onto the bed and lays there breathing hard, looking at Rodney with sparkling green eyes.
Rodney crawls onto the bed and falls across John, tucking the fingers of one hand between John's legs, his thumb rubbing against the strip of skin where John's hip and thigh meet.
John reaches down to touch the back of Rodney's neck, ruffling the hair at the nape.
"Huh," he says, his voice quiet and tired sounding.
"Hmmm," Rodney says, just as quietly.
"Up here." John tugs at Rodney’s hair.
Rodney rubs John's thigh one more time before crawling up the bed to loom over him for soft kisses. When the kisses are interrupted by yawns, Rodney turns off the light and flops down, resting one hand on John's sweaty belly.
Rodney wakes to the feel of lips and stubble on his neck, and John's arm heavy across his waist.
"Mmmm," Rodney says, "What time's it?"
"Midnight," John says into his neck.
“Mmmm," Rodney says again. "You gotta go?"
"Don't want to," John says, “but I'm working at the air show on the base tomorrow."
"'Kay," Rodney says. He wakes up enough to realize that John's going to leave. He finds that he doesn't like the thought of never seeing John again, but he's not sure what to say.
"Rain check," John mutters into his throat.
"What?" Rodney says.
"Rain check," John says. "You still owe me one." He lifts his head and looks at Rodney in the dim glow of the parking lot's lights through the bedroom window. "Come to the show tomorrow."
"Air show?" Rodney says, "like outdoors with the sun and skin cancer and the drunken rednecks with their lawn chairs?"
"Yeah," John says. "Wear sunscreen. I'll have someone meet you at the gate and bring you down. About 9:00?"
"In the morning?" Rodney tries to sit up, but John has him pinned with his warm body. He kisses Rodney softly.
"Please?" he says, and Rodney is lost.
"Okay," he grumps. "But this better be worth it."
"I'll do my best." John kisses him again and stands up. Rodney hears him rummaging around for a bit, the mattress dips as John sits on the edge of the bed.
"You'll be there?" he says.
"Yeah, yeah." Rodney answers, and John leans down for one last kiss.
Rodney curses when his alarm goes off at 8:00 am. Seriously, if John wasn’t so hot and didn’t have such a nice cock, Rodney would be tempted to wire up the GTO to fucking explode.
He gets to the base at 9:45 sunscreened, sunglassed, and caffeinated. He’s cranky anyway.
He parks in the exterior lot and trudges up to the gate. When he gives his name, the guard waves to an airman standing casually to one side. “Dr. McKay,” he says, “Captain Sheppard sent me to bring you down.”
“Fine,” Rodney says, putting on the VIP badge he’s handed. The airman leads him down the base, eventually taking him behind the rope that separates them from the seething crowds of coconut-scented rednecks.
The airman leads Rodney to a cordoned-off area next to the flight line. There are two little planes rolling around in the sky making entirely too much noise for Rodney. On the tarmac, three helicopters are poised in a line, rotors turning lazily.
The airman brings Rodney a big cup of coffee and points to some chairs set up in the shade of an awning. The area is arranged so that he’s out of the sun, but he still has a perfect view of the great blue swath of sky where the planes do their things.
The airman flops down into the chair next to Rodney. The little buzzy planes land to applause, and a hush falls over the crowd. The airman glances at his watch, then looks at Rodney. “Here we go,” he says.
Rodney looks up just in time to see four fighters come up from behind the base, flying in an ultra-tight delta formation.
Figures, he thinks. John would be one of the Thunderbirds. While the four lead planes fly over the crowd, two other planes come in from opposite sides, screaming in to barely miss each other, passing cockpit to cockpit.
During the Thunderbirds’ routine, Rodney decides that John is flying the lead plane. The pilot seems to be tightly controlling the formation, but he’s also having a lot of fun with it.
Despite that, Rodney keeps getting distracted by the other two planes. They cross and recross the flight area, sweeping by each other with what looks like only inches to spare.
The routine ends suddenly – before Rodney’s quite ready, actually – and the Thunderbirds land, lining the planes up into a precise row just at the flight line.
The spectators are going nuts, but the ropes keep them back. Rodney’s guide joins half a dozen others in securing the barrier. “Don’t worry,” they tell the fans. “The ‘Birds’ll be back this afternoon to sign autographs.”
Rodney moves to where the pilots are exiting their planes to even more cheers. He looks at the side of the lead plane, expecting to see “Shep” emblazoned there. Instead, it says “Dallas,” and Rodney recognizes the man who exits as the guy from the bar the night before.
Well fuck, Rodney thinks. That can mean only one thing. He sighs. The number five plane is the one with “Shep” on it. And John’s climbing down with a huge grin, slipping a pair of aviator sunglasses on and smiling widely to his enthusiastic fans. Rodney pretends he doesn’t find the flight suit hot.
John hops down and heads toward Rodney. When he’s about two feet away, he pulls off the sunglasses and grins even wider.
“Hey Rodney,” he says.
“You idiot!” Rodney thunders, grabbing John by the arm.
The smile falls right off John’s face. “Geeze, Rodney,” he says. “I thought you’d be impressed.”
“Oh, I’m impressed all right. I’m incredibly impressed with your total disregard for your damned life. Also, why is your patch on upside down?” Rodney points to the number five patch on John’s chest, which is indeed upside down.
John smirks. “It’s upside down on the plane, too. I spend so much time on my back it’s the only way the spectators can tell it’s me.”
“That’s it,” Rodney says. He’s at the end of his rope and is perilously close to ripping John’s stupid flight suit off and going down on him in front of a hundred flyboys and 2500 rednecks.
“You live near here, right?” Rodney’s voice is low and rough.
John blinks a few times before Rodney sees perception dawn. “I have to be back here in an hour and a half.”
“It won’t take that long,” Rodney says. He really wants to grab John by the arm and drag him away, but he manages not to. Instead, he walks by John’s side, barely hearing the “good show”s and “Way to go, Shep”s. All he can think of is peeling John’s clothes off and fucking him.
Once they’re in the GTO, John squeals out of the parking lot, barely waving at the guard, who gets the gate up just in time. Rodney puts his hand in John’s lap and gets his fingers almost all the way around John’s cock through his pants.
“That for me?” Rodney grits out. “Or is it just adrenaline?”
“Both,” John says, not taking his eyes off the road. “Going more than two hundred miles an hour always makes me hard.”
“I see that,” Rodney says, giving John’s cock one more hard squeeze before they pull into the driveway of a small, well-kept house.
“Get out of the car,” John says, already halfway out the door.
Rodney follows John into the house and back to his bedroom; they’re practically running. “What do you want?” Rodney asks, crowding John against the wall.
“Fuck me hard. Right here.”
Rodney moves in and threads his hand into John’s hair to pull him into a kiss, and it’s much sweeter than he thought it would be.
Rodney is the one who pulls back. “Get your clothes off,” he says, heading for the bedside table. He gets out lube and a condom and drops them both when he turns around.
John has stripped completely and has his hands braced on the wall, his legs spread wide.
“God,” Rodney groans. “You’re so…god, you’re hot.”
John’s only response is pushing his hips back, and Rodney can’t stop looking at the long line of his back and the tight curve of his ass.
“Come on, Rodney,” John says. “I need to get fucked right now.”
Rodney strips off his clothes and picks up the lube. He can’t stop himself from leaning in to mouth across the small of John’s back, getting the low moan he was after.
“Come on,” John moans again. Rodney opens the lube and gets his fingers wet. He uses one hand to open John further and pushes a slick finger in all the way.
“Now, Rodney,” John says, fucking himself on Rodney’s finger.
Rodney pulls out and goes back with two despite John’s whine. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he says.
“So get close to it,” John moans. “Get as close as you can.”
Rodney pulls out again and runs his slick fingers over his cock. The condom is still on the floor, and when he leans down to get it, he mouths across John’s back again. John huffs out an impatient breath.
“Hey,” Rodney says sharply. “You stand there and lock your fucking elbows and wait for me.”
When a visible shudder runs through John’s whole body, Rodney has to laugh wickedly. “I kind of like you when you’re sky-high on adrenaline.”
He hears John suck in a breath to reply, but he forestalls it by guiding his cock to John’s ass and shoving in about halfway. John lets out his held breath as a low moan.
“You’re too quiet,” Rodney says. “I know it’s conditioning, but I don’t care.” With that, he slams into John hard and nearly has to make a noise of his own. John’s so tight, and he’s pushed hard enough that they’re skin to skin.
“Harder,” John says quietly. Rodney grinds himself against John.
“Louder,” Rodney chides.
“Harder,” John says in a slightly louder voice.
“John,” Rodney says. “Louder.” John shoves back, and Rodney moves with him. “Louder,” Rodney says. “Or I’ll stop right now.”
“No,” John says. “Don’t stop.”
His voice has risen a little past normal, so Rodney counts it as a win. He pulls back and John whines. The whine turns into a grunt when Rodney shoves back in, grabs John by the hips and starts to get rough with him. It seems to be the right thing to do, because John’s noises get louder and louder, and Rodney’s grin gets wider and wider.
Next time, he thinks. Next time he’ll have John’s legs over his shoulders so he can see what his face must look like with these noises coming out of his pretty mouth.
Once he realizes what he’s doing, he freezes in place. Next time. He doesn’t even know what this thing with John is. Is John just cashing in his rain check? Working off post-show adrenaline?
“Dammit, Rodney!” This time John’s voice is definitely raised. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Uh…I was thinking.” Rodney feels kind of sheepish.
This time John’s voice goes low, and it has a thread of authority in it. “You can think later. Fuck me now.”
Rodney makes a concerted effort to stop worrying. To his surprise, it works. He digs his fingers back into John’s hips and slams into him over and over. By the time his knees are shaking, John is making all the noises Rodney could want, and drops of sweat are slowly rolling down the trough of his spine.
“Can you come like this?” Rodney asks. He changes his angle slightly, trying to hold on.
John shoves back and moans – a deep rough sound that’s the best one Rodney’s gotten out of him yet. “You keep doing that and I can.”
A couple more strokes, and Rodney feels the incredible sensation of John coming around him. “Come on, Rodney,” John grits out. Rodney can see his arms shaking.
“Not yet,” Rodney says tightly, and by force of will he keeps his hands on John’s hips, holding him up by his grip and his cock. When he’s gone as far as he can, Rodney falls forward.
John’s arms give and his full weight goes to the wall. One last hard push and Rodney is coming and John is moaning long and loud, his weight dragging them both to the floor.
“Loud enough for ya?” John says a few minutes later when his breathing slows back to normal.
Rodney snorts. “Hard enough for ya?”
John laughs a little at that, then drops his head and kisses Rodney’s shoulder. “You want to take a shower with me?”
“Yes,” Rodney says, once again trying to gauge whether or not this thing with John is going to end at the door when John has to go back to the base. He follows John to the bathroom, still lost in thought.
John’s waiting outside the curtain, adjusting the water. He turns to Rodney, looking uncertain. “You changing your mind, McKay?”
Rodney feels a little confused. “About the shower?”
John’s expression settles into one of fond exasperation. “About me, Rodney.”
“No,” Rodney blurts out, then immediately feels foolish. “I mean, not if you haven’t, about me, I mean…” his voice trails off and he looks at John, hoping for a bailout.
“I haven’t changed my mind, Rodney,” he says.
“About what?” Rodney says. “I’m really not sure what’s going on here.”
John smiles that sweet, sunny smile. “About you, Rodney. I haven’t changed my mind about you.”
“What about me?” Rodney knows his voice is rising.
John takes two steps forward and wraps his arms around Rodney, giving him another of those gentle kisses on the shoulder. “Rodney,” he says, drawing out the name. “While I’m at the autograph session, I want you to go back to your place and pack an overnight bag. I want you to meet me back here and I want to order pizza and watch a stupid movie. After that I want to go to bed and have sex until neither of us can walk.”
“Okay,” Rodney says, affecting a disinterested shrug. “But only if I get to pick the movie.”
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