Yay Team Work!
Jun. 2nd, 2010 10:12 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sabinelagrandeTitle: Workaday
Summary: 36 drabbles for Team Work!
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Word Count: 3600
Rating/Contents: G-NC-17, dragons, kink, AMTDI, AU(s), cross-dressing, tentacles, et cetera
Pairing: John/Rodney
Policies: Read my archiving, feedback, and warnings policies here.
A/N: Behold! Here are all the drabbles I wrote for the Drabble Tree at![[community profile]](https://s.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
mcshep_match. I am not quite sure why there are so many. I meant to write ten. O.0 Don't forget to vote Team Work!
"Jesus Christ!" the guy next to him shouted. "What is this?"
"That's my strawberry smoothie," John said, extracting his glass from the guy's grip.
"That's vile," he said, smacking his lips.
"Well, pardon the hell out of me for getting the wrong pink drink," John replied.
"This is pomegranate, thank you, and it's not pink," the guy pouted. "It's mauve, if anything."
"Yeah, cause that's better."
The guy narrowed his eyes. "Don't you have anything better to do than insult people's beverages?"
"Sorry," John shrugged. "I think we got off on the wrong foot. John Sheppard."
The guy eyed him.
"You're not a spy, are you?"
John raised an eyebrow. The guy was kind of hot, but possibly not hot enough to make up for paranoia. "A spy for who?"
The guy shook his head. "Sorry, occupational hazard," he explained, which wasn't really an explanation. "Doctor Rodney McKay." He picked up his glass and sipped from it. "So," he said, looking at John, "you wanna get out of here?"
"You're not half fast, are you?"
"I can't think of any other reason a really attractive guy would talk to me."
John snorted. "Maybe I wanted to discuss the Hodge conjecture."
Rodney looked at him, wide-eyed. "You are a spy, aren't you? You have to tell me if you are."
"I don't think that's true," John pointed out. "And I'm not a spy. I'm a math professor."
Rodney pointed a finger at him. "You can't be hot and smart!"
John looked down at himself. "Pretty sure I am."
Rodney looked like he was about to say something, but stopped. "I'm really terrible at this, aren't I?"
"Oh yeah," John confirmed. "Horrible."
Rodney sighed. "Would you possibly in the future consider leaving with me, or am I humiliating myself for no reason?"
John looked him up and down. "I'm not averse to the suggestion," he said finally.
"Thank god," Rodney sighed. "Not that I want to humiliate myself, but at least I'm humiliating myself for a good cause."
"You're not humiliating yourself," John assured him.
"Are you sure?" Rodney asked. "Because it feels pretty humiliating from this end, with the accidental insults and the probably inexplicable paranoia and everything."
"Relax," John said, getting a little closer. "I think it's kinda cute."
"I'm not cute," Rodney huffed. "Or, wait, do you like cute? I can be cute."
"Finish your juice," John told him.
When John opened the door, Rodney was leaning heavily on the doorframe, with two black eyes.
"Jennifer slugged me," he explained, letting John help him inside.
"What the hell for?"
"For fighting over her with Ronon."
John winced. He'd known it was going to get back to Jennifer eventually, but he hadn't expected quite this response. "That's no way to treat your soon-to-be husband."
"But it is a great way to treat your ex-fiance."
"What was the other one for?"
Rodney licked his lips. "For asking her to marry me without telling her I was in love with somebody else."
Rodney was in a pissy mood, but John wasn't expecting him to round on him as soon as they got into Rodney's room.
"You don't spent enough time on my ass."
John blinked. "I was on your ass for an hour last night!"
"You were in it. There's a difference."
"Please, enlighten me."
"I have one of the great asses," Rodney preened. "It deserves worship."
"You want me to worship your ass."
"You don't have to make it sound so kinky."
"Pretty sure it is."
"If you don't want to-"
John stopped him. "Go take a shower, and we'll talk."
"He is demanding food," Teyla said, inching carefully away from the, the- well, John wasn't one to mince words, the big ass dragon in front of them.
"Oh for Christ's sake," Rodney said, whipping off his pack and rummaging through it. He came up with a powerbar, stripping the foil from it quickly. He bit a corner off of it before placing it on the ground. "See? Good food. Nice food. Great for dragons. Says so right on the box."
"Thank you," the dragon said, politely, in his booming voice, and that was about the time that John woke up.
"I can see your junk," was the first thing out of Ronon's mouth.
"It weirds me out when you use slang," Rodney said, surreptitiously putting his hands over his crotch.
"It doesn't make it better when you grab at it," he pointed out.
"Relax, Rodney," John said, and of course he looked perfectly at ease in his ceremonial skirt and his stupid hat.
"I hate everyone," Rodney said, putting his hands over his face.
"I know, buddy," John said, rubbing at his shoulder in that soothing way he did. "Are you ready?"
"As I'll ever be," he sighed. "Let's dance."
(Context)
"Oh, I don't think you're getting out of this so easily," Rodney gloated. "You still owe me one from that time with the tickling."
John hummed the tune to let Rodney free. "I'm done playing, Rodney."
Rodney sighed. "What's wrong with-" He looked John up and down. "You're getting off on this!" Rodney marveled.
"No I'm not," John said quickly, turning a deep shade of red.
"You totally are," he replied, stepping closer, examining John. "Is it, like-"
"I don't want to have this conversation," John muttered.
Rodney hummed another tune, and the tentacles obligingly spread John's thighs for him.
"Is my tie straight?" Rodney asked nervously. "It feels like it's not straight."
"Rodney," John said, rolling his eyes, "we're going to a riot. What does it matter?"
"Maybe it doesn't matter to you, with your hair and your, your sexy hips and everything, but it matters to me. I'm not a hippie."
John grinned. "You think my hips are sexy, huh?"
It was Rodney's turn to roll his eyes. "I didn't think I needed to compliment each and every one of your body parts individually."
"Do you want to?" John asked.
"Later," Rodney promised. "We're almost to Christopher Street."
"You are a pain in the ass," Meredith told him, bringing the hairbrush down hard on him.
"Likewise," John managed to say.
She hit him harder, catching him right where his ass and thighs met. "Don't get smart with me. I swear I'll make you regret it."
He tried to smart off again, but she hit him again before he could, making him moan instead. She didn't spare him, smacking his ass until it was red and warm under her hands. She seemed to know exactly what he needed, exactly how to bring him down.
He loved her for it.
"Sewing machine oil? What the fuck?"
"You said hurry. I hurried."
"John, this is- where did you even- never mind. There's no way."
"Relax, Rodney-"
"You relax! This has probably has kerosene in it!"
"So?"
"You did not just 'so' me, Sheppard. God, this is worse than the time we used CalaGel!"
"Hey, all I said was that it wouldn't itch."
"Right. New plan."
"What now, Rodney?"
"You are going to lay there like a normal person- I know it will require acting on your part- and let me blow you."
"But-"
"No talking! On the bed! Clothes off! Now!"
Carson escorted the new infirmary staff into the examination area. "Ah. Here we have Doctor McKay and Colonel Sheppard, who were involved in a slight incident offworld."
"They gave us weeeeed," Rodney whispered, and John sniggered into his shoulder.
"You'll see a lot of hallucinogenic use among Pegasus cultures- the protocol is in your orientation packet," he told them. "Nurse Ko is administering the antidote now,"
"Rodney prefers to get his injections in his butt," John said, and they both cracked up laughing.
Carson sighed. "Workplace hazards mean something significantly different in the Pegasus Galaxy. Now, if you'll follow me?"
The moment John had entered the room he'd stripped down and fallen to his knees.
Rodney walked towards him, around him, taking a good long look. "You must need it bad," he observed mildly, like he was just discussing the weather.
John nodded, caught between not knowing if he could speak and wanting to respond. He needed to Rodney to know how he needed it, how far he needed Rodney to take him down.
Then again, Rodney always did.
"On the bed," Rodney snapped, and John didn't even stop to think, just crawled over and up, waiting for Rodney's orders.
He started belching almost immediately.
"Oh god," John said, clutching his chest, barely able to get the words out between loud burps, "what the-"
The priest raised his hands. "You have been cleansed of your pride!" he said triumphantly, and John looked at him like he'd grown two heads, but everybody else cheered and clapped.
Beside him, Ronon busted out laughing, slapping his thigh. Teyla's mouth kept twitching, like she got the joke but didn't want to embarrass John any further.
All Rodney could think was that when they'd told him about workplace hazards, they'd never mentioned shit like this.
After breakfast, John was leaving the mess when he walked straight into Rodney.
"There you are," Rodney said excitedly, almost dropping his papers. "I was on my way to find you. It's finished."
"What's finished?"
Rodney shoved the papers under John's nose. On top was an email from Landry, sent through on the latest databurst. John only had to see the subject line to find out everything he needed to know: DADT was dead, unlamented.
"Oh," he said quietly. "Oh, oh wow."
"Yeah," Rodney said.
John took a deep breath, and then, slowly, deliberately, he laced his fingers into Rodney's.
"We hope you find your accommodations to your liking, Scholar McKay," the Tliw representative gushed, gesturing showily to a door off the main hallway. He produced a massive key and unlocked it for him, ushering him inside and closing it behind him.
Most of the room was taken up by a massive, sunken bed. In the center, John was waiting for him, wearing harem pants and nothing else- absolutely nothing else, because Rodney could see his thick cock quite clearly through them.
"Hey, doc," he said, looking at Rodney through half-lidded eyes.
Beat the hell out of the Ritz Carlton.
"No fucking way," Rodney says.
"Come on, Rodney," John cajoles. "It'll be-" He trails off, at a loss as to how to sugarcoat this one.
"It'll be five miles across frozen tundra in a yurt on wheels," Rodney points out, and John really can't argue with his assessment of the situation.
"You must be quarantined, or you must leave us," the high priest hisses, getting more impatient by the minute. "You risk bringing the wrath of the gods down upon all of us!"
"All right, all right, Jesus," Rodney says, lifting the cover on the thing and getting underneath it.
The thing is smaller inside than it looked from the outside, two little chambers separated by a long piece of bamboo. Rodney took the front; there are two little holes for him to see out of and not much else.
The whole thing rattles as John climbs in.
"Hate you," Rodney informs him.
John kisses Rodney's shoulderblade, the only part of him he can really reach. "I'll make it up to you."
"You'd better. You owe me at least a month of really spectacular blowjobs for this."
"I already give you spectacular blowjobs," John points out. "But all right. Deal."
"0300 hours on the city of Ancients," John called, "and all's well."
"All is not well!" a voice called back.
John looked down, a quizzical expression on his face. "Rodney?"
"You know good and well who it is!"
"Why are we yelling?"
"Because you won't get your skinny ass to bed!"
"Rodney, I'm at work!"
"Town crying isn't work!"
"Why don't you come up here and say that to my face?"
"Why don't you come down here and stop yelling!"
"Why don't you both shut up!" someone shouted from down the street.
Next time, John was taking the day shift.
"You know I’m a sadist, right, Rodney?"
Stackhouse looked back at them, then reached over and shut the cockpit doors without a word.
"Uh," Rodney stammered. "Uh, no, I can't say that I did."
"You're scared," John said, pressing his face to Rodney's neck. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna hurt you." Rodney could feel John's laugh through his skin. "Unless you asked for it." John got closer, wrapping himself around Rodney. "God, Rodney, you'd be so hot asking for it, down on your knees."
Rodney told himself that his hard-on was only from the adrenaline. He hated truth serum.
--
They didn't speak much, the next few days; the truth serum didn't come with memory loss, which was unfortunate. Rodney cracked first, knocking at John's door in the middle of the night with no good excuse to be there.
"Come in," John- who clearly hadn't been sleeping either- said.
"I've been thinking about what you said," he started.
John sighed. "Rodney, please don't-"
"Shut up," he snapped. "I'm talking." John crossed his arms over his chest, looking unhappy. "I've been doing a lot of thinking," he said, "and, well," he sighed, setting his shoulders, "this is me asking for it."
John's expression went blank. "You don't know what you're getting into."
"No, I don't," he admitted. "And I don't know why I've jerked off thinking about it for the past week. But." He raised his chin defiantly. "I trust you."
John looked away, smiling to himself, bashful, almost like he was choked up.
And then he slapped Rodney in the face.
"Ow," Rodney complained, even though it was only a light smack, barely stinging at all.
"Rule one, toy," John said, getting right up into Rodney's space, the growl in his voice sending a thrill up Rodney's spine. "Pay attention."
"You're wearing my collar," John said unhappily.
"You wanted to switch!" Rodney protested. "This is me switching!"
"I said I wanted to switch. I didn't say I wanted you to touch my stuff."
"Fine, whatever," Rodney huffed, reaching around the unbuckle the collar from his neck. John snatched it from him, cradling it to his chest.
"This isn't really about the collar, is it?" Rodney asked. "Do you actually want to switch, or do you think I want you to switch?"
"It's not like that," John argued. "It's just that-"
"It's just that what, John?"
"You wouldn't understand," John muttered.
Rodney sighed, exasperated. "How am I supposed to understand if you won't talk to me about it? I'm not a mind reader."
"It's not that simple," John protested.
"Oh, and fighting about it is?"
"It's too much work, okay?" John blurted. "I'm too much work. I'm going to wear you out." Just like everybody else, he didn't add. Rodney heard it anyway.
"Hey," Rodney said. "I just want to have mindblowing kinky sex with you. I don't care if it takes effort."
"Rodney-"
He put a finger to John's lips. "Shut up and get naked. I've got work to do."
"Come on, McKay," John urged. "Just a few more reps."
"Screw. You," Rodney panted. "Can't. Make me."
"You pay me to make you," he argued.
"I pay you," Rodney said, racking the bar with John's help, "so I can watch you do aerobics in tiny shorts."
"That's sexual harassment," John told him.
"I didn't say there was anything sexual about it," Rodney retorted. "Maybe I just like aerobics."
"If you think you're going to piss me off enough to let you go, you're mistaken," John told him. "Weights now. You can harass me all you want when we get home."
"Now, Jane," Meredith said calmly, pressing her down with one boot placed firmly on her back, "you can be good, or you can be a brat. It doesn't matter one way or the other, because you are going to do what I say."
"Make me," Jane spat.
Meredith snorted. "That is the general idea."
"Fuck you," she replied, struggling against the cuffs around her wrists.
"Later," she promised. "Now are we going to stand around here trading quips all night, or are you going to kiss my boots like a good girl?"
Reluctantly, Jane lowered her face to Meredith's shoe.
The ceremony itself was small and private. Rodney didn't know why he was so surprised; for some reason, he'd always imagined that, when they finally had to do this, it'd be for a crowd of lascivious onlookers.
But instead, there was nobody looking when he finally slid into John, rocking deep inside of him, watching the play of John's muscles as he writhed and panted and just took it, took everything Rodney had to give him.
And when the priest led them out and announced to the crowd that they were blessed, Rodney actually felt like he just might be.
"Hey, quit touching my hair," John demanded, crossing his arms over McKay's chest.
"I can't help it," Rodney protested. "It's fascinating. How do you make it stick up like this?"
"Bad breeding," John replied, studying Rodney's fingernails critically. "Your cuticles look like hell."
"Yes, well, some of us don't have daily skin care regimens, Colonel Coiffed."
"That's a new one."
"Thank you. I've been saving it."
John pouted, the expression slightly ridiculous on Rodney's face. "I just don't like you touching my stuff."
"I haven't," Rodney replied, too quickly.
"You have!" John said. There was a pause. "Can I watch?"
320 days after the expedition left Earth, John knocked on Rodney's door.
"Colonel," Rodney said, and John almost turned tail and ran. "Come on in."
"We're not going home," John blurted, once the door shut behind them.
"Yes, thank you for that reminder," Rodney said, crossing his arms over his chest.
This was all going wrong. "I just-" John took a deep breath. "I wanna not go home with you."
"Oh," Rodney said, looking more lost than John had ever seen him.
John rubbed at the back of his neck. "So, I, uh, I thought maybe-"
"Kiss me," Rodney said softly.
"I can't believe you're making me go out to listen to country music," Rodney sniffed.
"Mer, you live in Nashville," Jeannie pointed out.
"So?"
"So, we're tourists. You're coming with us to do tourist things. Or I'm leaving you here with Madison."
"I'll get my coat."
--
Rippy's was packed, of course, the band in full swing. Rodney gave them a cursory glance; the bassist was awfully pretty, with his tight jeans and his messy shock of black hair.
He looked straight at Rodney and gave him a hundred-watt smile.
Maybe he could get behind this country stuff after all.
In four years with his team, Rodney had done a lot of hard, awful things. He'd butchered a yak with a stone knife; he'd cut through at least a planet's worth of jungle; he'd hiked until his feet were blistered; he'd waded through an energy-sucking smoke monster to save the city.
But carrying Ronon to the puddlejumper, putting him in, flying him home, and walking him to the gateroom was easily the worst of it.
"What happened here?" Sam asked, from her not-vomited-on perch.
"Athosian beer pong," John answered tipsily.
John owed him so many blowjobs for being the DD.
"Best weird alien ceremony ever," Rodney growled, biting John’s neck and shoving a hand underneath his skirt.
"Rodney," John protested, but it came out more like a plea.
"Shh," Rodney said, reaching past John's dick, to where he was slicked up and ready. His fingers slid inside easily, as John bucked and moaned against him.
"Tell me you want it," Rodney demanded, pressing in further.
"Oh god," John panted. "Oh, Rodney, please."
"Slut," Rodney said, reaching down to undo his pants. "I'm gonna do awful things to you."
"Hurry up and do them faster," John pleaded.
The crowd cheered.
John stood perfectly still as Rodney manacled his hands to the wall above his head; surely Rodney could feel his erection.
"You're certainly getting off on your kinky little alien gangbang, Colonel," Rodney sneered.
"Rodney, I have to do this," John told him.
Rodney pushed back from him suddenly. "No, you don't," he snapped. "We don't have to trade with these people, John. You're doing this for you, not us."
"What the hell do you care?" John spat.
He grabbed John by the throat, forcing John to look at him. "Maybe I don't want to see somebody else using you."
John blinked, swallowing hard. He could work with that. He could really work with that.
"Is that good for you, Colonel?" Rodney asked, narrowing his eyes at John.
"Yeah," he managed, somehow. "Yeah, Rodney. Whatever you want."
"I'm going to talk to the elders," Rodney told him, triumphant. "I'd say don't move, but there doesn't seem much chance of that, now does there?"
Before he left, Rodney kissed him, hard; he reached a hand down and rubbed John through his clothing, too rough and just what John wanted.
John thought he was turned on before; clearly he had no idea.
"Major Lorne's IDC," Chuck announced.
"Control, this is Lorne."
"What's the trouble, Major?" John answered.
"It's, it's big and... liquidy," Lorne replied. "We keep firing on it, but nothing works. It ate the MALP, sir, and Johnson's new shoes."
"What's the problem?"
"Johnson's still in them, sir."
"We're on our way," John said, motioning to Rodney, Teyla, and Ronon. "Sit tight and, uh, try not to get absorbed."
"Uh, will do?"
"Stunners this time," John told his team.
"Great," Rodney said, putting on his tac vest. "All those years of D&D, and I'm off to fight a gelatinous cube."
This entry was automagically crossposted from http://sabinetzin.dreamwidth.org/234879.html.
comments over there.
Summary: 36 drabbles for Team Work!
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Word Count: 3600
Rating/Contents: G-NC-17, dragons, kink, AMTDI, AU(s), cross-dressing, tentacles, et cetera
Pairing: John/Rodney
Policies: Read my archiving, feedback, and warnings policies here.
A/N: Behold! Here are all the drabbles I wrote for the Drabble Tree at
mcshep_match. I am not quite sure why there are so many. I meant to write ten. O.0 Don't forget to vote Team Work!"Jesus Christ!" the guy next to him shouted. "What is this?"
"That's my strawberry smoothie," John said, extracting his glass from the guy's grip.
"That's vile," he said, smacking his lips.
"Well, pardon the hell out of me for getting the wrong pink drink," John replied.
"This is pomegranate, thank you, and it's not pink," the guy pouted. "It's mauve, if anything."
"Yeah, cause that's better."
The guy narrowed his eyes. "Don't you have anything better to do than insult people's beverages?"
"Sorry," John shrugged. "I think we got off on the wrong foot. John Sheppard."
The guy eyed him.
"You're not a spy, are you?"
John raised an eyebrow. The guy was kind of hot, but possibly not hot enough to make up for paranoia. "A spy for who?"
The guy shook his head. "Sorry, occupational hazard," he explained, which wasn't really an explanation. "Doctor Rodney McKay." He picked up his glass and sipped from it. "So," he said, looking at John, "you wanna get out of here?"
"You're not half fast, are you?"
"I can't think of any other reason a really attractive guy would talk to me."
John snorted. "Maybe I wanted to discuss the Hodge conjecture."
Rodney looked at him, wide-eyed. "You are a spy, aren't you? You have to tell me if you are."
"I don't think that's true," John pointed out. "And I'm not a spy. I'm a math professor."
Rodney pointed a finger at him. "You can't be hot and smart!"
John looked down at himself. "Pretty sure I am."
Rodney looked like he was about to say something, but stopped. "I'm really terrible at this, aren't I?"
"Oh yeah," John confirmed. "Horrible."
Rodney sighed. "Would you possibly in the future consider leaving with me, or am I humiliating myself for no reason?"
John looked him up and down. "I'm not averse to the suggestion," he said finally.
"Thank god," Rodney sighed. "Not that I want to humiliate myself, but at least I'm humiliating myself for a good cause."
"You're not humiliating yourself," John assured him.
"Are you sure?" Rodney asked. "Because it feels pretty humiliating from this end, with the accidental insults and the probably inexplicable paranoia and everything."
"Relax," John said, getting a little closer. "I think it's kinda cute."
"I'm not cute," Rodney huffed. "Or, wait, do you like cute? I can be cute."
"Finish your juice," John told him.
When John opened the door, Rodney was leaning heavily on the doorframe, with two black eyes.
"Jennifer slugged me," he explained, letting John help him inside.
"What the hell for?"
"For fighting over her with Ronon."
John winced. He'd known it was going to get back to Jennifer eventually, but he hadn't expected quite this response. "That's no way to treat your soon-to-be husband."
"But it is a great way to treat your ex-fiance."
"What was the other one for?"
Rodney licked his lips. "For asking her to marry me without telling her I was in love with somebody else."
Rodney was in a pissy mood, but John wasn't expecting him to round on him as soon as they got into Rodney's room.
"You don't spent enough time on my ass."
John blinked. "I was on your ass for an hour last night!"
"You were in it. There's a difference."
"Please, enlighten me."
"I have one of the great asses," Rodney preened. "It deserves worship."
"You want me to worship your ass."
"You don't have to make it sound so kinky."
"Pretty sure it is."
"If you don't want to-"
John stopped him. "Go take a shower, and we'll talk."
"He is demanding food," Teyla said, inching carefully away from the, the- well, John wasn't one to mince words, the big ass dragon in front of them.
"Oh for Christ's sake," Rodney said, whipping off his pack and rummaging through it. He came up with a powerbar, stripping the foil from it quickly. He bit a corner off of it before placing it on the ground. "See? Good food. Nice food. Great for dragons. Says so right on the box."
"Thank you," the dragon said, politely, in his booming voice, and that was about the time that John woke up.
"I can see your junk," was the first thing out of Ronon's mouth.
"It weirds me out when you use slang," Rodney said, surreptitiously putting his hands over his crotch.
"It doesn't make it better when you grab at it," he pointed out.
"Relax, Rodney," John said, and of course he looked perfectly at ease in his ceremonial skirt and his stupid hat.
"I hate everyone," Rodney said, putting his hands over his face.
"I know, buddy," John said, rubbing at his shoulder in that soothing way he did. "Are you ready?"
"As I'll ever be," he sighed. "Let's dance."
(Context)
"Oh, I don't think you're getting out of this so easily," Rodney gloated. "You still owe me one from that time with the tickling."
John hummed the tune to let Rodney free. "I'm done playing, Rodney."
Rodney sighed. "What's wrong with-" He looked John up and down. "You're getting off on this!" Rodney marveled.
"No I'm not," John said quickly, turning a deep shade of red.
"You totally are," he replied, stepping closer, examining John. "Is it, like-"
"I don't want to have this conversation," John muttered.
Rodney hummed another tune, and the tentacles obligingly spread John's thighs for him.
"Is my tie straight?" Rodney asked nervously. "It feels like it's not straight."
"Rodney," John said, rolling his eyes, "we're going to a riot. What does it matter?"
"Maybe it doesn't matter to you, with your hair and your, your sexy hips and everything, but it matters to me. I'm not a hippie."
John grinned. "You think my hips are sexy, huh?"
It was Rodney's turn to roll his eyes. "I didn't think I needed to compliment each and every one of your body parts individually."
"Do you want to?" John asked.
"Later," Rodney promised. "We're almost to Christopher Street."
"You are a pain in the ass," Meredith told him, bringing the hairbrush down hard on him.
"Likewise," John managed to say.
She hit him harder, catching him right where his ass and thighs met. "Don't get smart with me. I swear I'll make you regret it."
He tried to smart off again, but she hit him again before he could, making him moan instead. She didn't spare him, smacking his ass until it was red and warm under her hands. She seemed to know exactly what he needed, exactly how to bring him down.
He loved her for it.
"Sewing machine oil? What the fuck?"
"You said hurry. I hurried."
"John, this is- where did you even- never mind. There's no way."
"Relax, Rodney-"
"You relax! This has probably has kerosene in it!"
"So?"
"You did not just 'so' me, Sheppard. God, this is worse than the time we used CalaGel!"
"Hey, all I said was that it wouldn't itch."
"Right. New plan."
"What now, Rodney?"
"You are going to lay there like a normal person- I know it will require acting on your part- and let me blow you."
"But-"
"No talking! On the bed! Clothes off! Now!"
Carson escorted the new infirmary staff into the examination area. "Ah. Here we have Doctor McKay and Colonel Sheppard, who were involved in a slight incident offworld."
"They gave us weeeeed," Rodney whispered, and John sniggered into his shoulder.
"You'll see a lot of hallucinogenic use among Pegasus cultures- the protocol is in your orientation packet," he told them. "Nurse Ko is administering the antidote now,"
"Rodney prefers to get his injections in his butt," John said, and they both cracked up laughing.
Carson sighed. "Workplace hazards mean something significantly different in the Pegasus Galaxy. Now, if you'll follow me?"
The moment John had entered the room he'd stripped down and fallen to his knees.
Rodney walked towards him, around him, taking a good long look. "You must need it bad," he observed mildly, like he was just discussing the weather.
John nodded, caught between not knowing if he could speak and wanting to respond. He needed to Rodney to know how he needed it, how far he needed Rodney to take him down.
Then again, Rodney always did.
"On the bed," Rodney snapped, and John didn't even stop to think, just crawled over and up, waiting for Rodney's orders.
He started belching almost immediately.
"Oh god," John said, clutching his chest, barely able to get the words out between loud burps, "what the-"
The priest raised his hands. "You have been cleansed of your pride!" he said triumphantly, and John looked at him like he'd grown two heads, but everybody else cheered and clapped.
Beside him, Ronon busted out laughing, slapping his thigh. Teyla's mouth kept twitching, like she got the joke but didn't want to embarrass John any further.
All Rodney could think was that when they'd told him about workplace hazards, they'd never mentioned shit like this.
After breakfast, John was leaving the mess when he walked straight into Rodney.
"There you are," Rodney said excitedly, almost dropping his papers. "I was on my way to find you. It's finished."
"What's finished?"
Rodney shoved the papers under John's nose. On top was an email from Landry, sent through on the latest databurst. John only had to see the subject line to find out everything he needed to know: DADT was dead, unlamented.
"Oh," he said quietly. "Oh, oh wow."
"Yeah," Rodney said.
John took a deep breath, and then, slowly, deliberately, he laced his fingers into Rodney's.
"We hope you find your accommodations to your liking, Scholar McKay," the Tliw representative gushed, gesturing showily to a door off the main hallway. He produced a massive key and unlocked it for him, ushering him inside and closing it behind him.
Most of the room was taken up by a massive, sunken bed. In the center, John was waiting for him, wearing harem pants and nothing else- absolutely nothing else, because Rodney could see his thick cock quite clearly through them.
"Hey, doc," he said, looking at Rodney through half-lidded eyes.
Beat the hell out of the Ritz Carlton.
"No fucking way," Rodney says.
"Come on, Rodney," John cajoles. "It'll be-" He trails off, at a loss as to how to sugarcoat this one.
"It'll be five miles across frozen tundra in a yurt on wheels," Rodney points out, and John really can't argue with his assessment of the situation.
"You must be quarantined, or you must leave us," the high priest hisses, getting more impatient by the minute. "You risk bringing the wrath of the gods down upon all of us!"
"All right, all right, Jesus," Rodney says, lifting the cover on the thing and getting underneath it.
The thing is smaller inside than it looked from the outside, two little chambers separated by a long piece of bamboo. Rodney took the front; there are two little holes for him to see out of and not much else.
The whole thing rattles as John climbs in.
"Hate you," Rodney informs him.
John kisses Rodney's shoulderblade, the only part of him he can really reach. "I'll make it up to you."
"You'd better. You owe me at least a month of really spectacular blowjobs for this."
"I already give you spectacular blowjobs," John points out. "But all right. Deal."
"0300 hours on the city of Ancients," John called, "and all's well."
"All is not well!" a voice called back.
John looked down, a quizzical expression on his face. "Rodney?"
"You know good and well who it is!"
"Why are we yelling?"
"Because you won't get your skinny ass to bed!"
"Rodney, I'm at work!"
"Town crying isn't work!"
"Why don't you come up here and say that to my face?"
"Why don't you come down here and stop yelling!"
"Why don't you both shut up!" someone shouted from down the street.
Next time, John was taking the day shift.
"You know I’m a sadist, right, Rodney?"
Stackhouse looked back at them, then reached over and shut the cockpit doors without a word.
"Uh," Rodney stammered. "Uh, no, I can't say that I did."
"You're scared," John said, pressing his face to Rodney's neck. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna hurt you." Rodney could feel John's laugh through his skin. "Unless you asked for it." John got closer, wrapping himself around Rodney. "God, Rodney, you'd be so hot asking for it, down on your knees."
Rodney told himself that his hard-on was only from the adrenaline. He hated truth serum.
--
They didn't speak much, the next few days; the truth serum didn't come with memory loss, which was unfortunate. Rodney cracked first, knocking at John's door in the middle of the night with no good excuse to be there.
"Come in," John- who clearly hadn't been sleeping either- said.
"I've been thinking about what you said," he started.
John sighed. "Rodney, please don't-"
"Shut up," he snapped. "I'm talking." John crossed his arms over his chest, looking unhappy. "I've been doing a lot of thinking," he said, "and, well," he sighed, setting his shoulders, "this is me asking for it."
John's expression went blank. "You don't know what you're getting into."
"No, I don't," he admitted. "And I don't know why I've jerked off thinking about it for the past week. But." He raised his chin defiantly. "I trust you."
John looked away, smiling to himself, bashful, almost like he was choked up.
And then he slapped Rodney in the face.
"Ow," Rodney complained, even though it was only a light smack, barely stinging at all.
"Rule one, toy," John said, getting right up into Rodney's space, the growl in his voice sending a thrill up Rodney's spine. "Pay attention."
"You're wearing my collar," John said unhappily.
"You wanted to switch!" Rodney protested. "This is me switching!"
"I said I wanted to switch. I didn't say I wanted you to touch my stuff."
"Fine, whatever," Rodney huffed, reaching around the unbuckle the collar from his neck. John snatched it from him, cradling it to his chest.
"This isn't really about the collar, is it?" Rodney asked. "Do you actually want to switch, or do you think I want you to switch?"
"It's not like that," John argued. "It's just that-"
"It's just that what, John?"
"You wouldn't understand," John muttered.
Rodney sighed, exasperated. "How am I supposed to understand if you won't talk to me about it? I'm not a mind reader."
"It's not that simple," John protested.
"Oh, and fighting about it is?"
"It's too much work, okay?" John blurted. "I'm too much work. I'm going to wear you out." Just like everybody else, he didn't add. Rodney heard it anyway.
"Hey," Rodney said. "I just want to have mindblowing kinky sex with you. I don't care if it takes effort."
"Rodney-"
He put a finger to John's lips. "Shut up and get naked. I've got work to do."
"Come on, McKay," John urged. "Just a few more reps."
"Screw. You," Rodney panted. "Can't. Make me."
"You pay me to make you," he argued.
"I pay you," Rodney said, racking the bar with John's help, "so I can watch you do aerobics in tiny shorts."
"That's sexual harassment," John told him.
"I didn't say there was anything sexual about it," Rodney retorted. "Maybe I just like aerobics."
"If you think you're going to piss me off enough to let you go, you're mistaken," John told him. "Weights now. You can harass me all you want when we get home."
"Now, Jane," Meredith said calmly, pressing her down with one boot placed firmly on her back, "you can be good, or you can be a brat. It doesn't matter one way or the other, because you are going to do what I say."
"Make me," Jane spat.
Meredith snorted. "That is the general idea."
"Fuck you," she replied, struggling against the cuffs around her wrists.
"Later," she promised. "Now are we going to stand around here trading quips all night, or are you going to kiss my boots like a good girl?"
Reluctantly, Jane lowered her face to Meredith's shoe.
The ceremony itself was small and private. Rodney didn't know why he was so surprised; for some reason, he'd always imagined that, when they finally had to do this, it'd be for a crowd of lascivious onlookers.
But instead, there was nobody looking when he finally slid into John, rocking deep inside of him, watching the play of John's muscles as he writhed and panted and just took it, took everything Rodney had to give him.
And when the priest led them out and announced to the crowd that they were blessed, Rodney actually felt like he just might be.
"Hey, quit touching my hair," John demanded, crossing his arms over McKay's chest.
"I can't help it," Rodney protested. "It's fascinating. How do you make it stick up like this?"
"Bad breeding," John replied, studying Rodney's fingernails critically. "Your cuticles look like hell."
"Yes, well, some of us don't have daily skin care regimens, Colonel Coiffed."
"That's a new one."
"Thank you. I've been saving it."
John pouted, the expression slightly ridiculous on Rodney's face. "I just don't like you touching my stuff."
"I haven't," Rodney replied, too quickly.
"You have!" John said. There was a pause. "Can I watch?"
320 days after the expedition left Earth, John knocked on Rodney's door.
"Colonel," Rodney said, and John almost turned tail and ran. "Come on in."
"We're not going home," John blurted, once the door shut behind them.
"Yes, thank you for that reminder," Rodney said, crossing his arms over his chest.
This was all going wrong. "I just-" John took a deep breath. "I wanna not go home with you."
"Oh," Rodney said, looking more lost than John had ever seen him.
John rubbed at the back of his neck. "So, I, uh, I thought maybe-"
"Kiss me," Rodney said softly.
"I can't believe you're making me go out to listen to country music," Rodney sniffed.
"Mer, you live in Nashville," Jeannie pointed out.
"So?"
"So, we're tourists. You're coming with us to do tourist things. Or I'm leaving you here with Madison."
"I'll get my coat."
--
Rippy's was packed, of course, the band in full swing. Rodney gave them a cursory glance; the bassist was awfully pretty, with his tight jeans and his messy shock of black hair.
He looked straight at Rodney and gave him a hundred-watt smile.
Maybe he could get behind this country stuff after all.
In four years with his team, Rodney had done a lot of hard, awful things. He'd butchered a yak with a stone knife; he'd cut through at least a planet's worth of jungle; he'd hiked until his feet were blistered; he'd waded through an energy-sucking smoke monster to save the city.
But carrying Ronon to the puddlejumper, putting him in, flying him home, and walking him to the gateroom was easily the worst of it.
"What happened here?" Sam asked, from her not-vomited-on perch.
"Athosian beer pong," John answered tipsily.
John owed him so many blowjobs for being the DD.
"Best weird alien ceremony ever," Rodney growled, biting John’s neck and shoving a hand underneath his skirt.
"Rodney," John protested, but it came out more like a plea.
"Shh," Rodney said, reaching past John's dick, to where he was slicked up and ready. His fingers slid inside easily, as John bucked and moaned against him.
"Tell me you want it," Rodney demanded, pressing in further.
"Oh god," John panted. "Oh, Rodney, please."
"Slut," Rodney said, reaching down to undo his pants. "I'm gonna do awful things to you."
"Hurry up and do them faster," John pleaded.
The crowd cheered.
John stood perfectly still as Rodney manacled his hands to the wall above his head; surely Rodney could feel his erection.
"You're certainly getting off on your kinky little alien gangbang, Colonel," Rodney sneered.
"Rodney, I have to do this," John told him.
Rodney pushed back from him suddenly. "No, you don't," he snapped. "We don't have to trade with these people, John. You're doing this for you, not us."
"What the hell do you care?" John spat.
He grabbed John by the throat, forcing John to look at him. "Maybe I don't want to see somebody else using you."
John blinked, swallowing hard. He could work with that. He could really work with that.
"Is that good for you, Colonel?" Rodney asked, narrowing his eyes at John.
"Yeah," he managed, somehow. "Yeah, Rodney. Whatever you want."
"I'm going to talk to the elders," Rodney told him, triumphant. "I'd say don't move, but there doesn't seem much chance of that, now does there?"
Before he left, Rodney kissed him, hard; he reached a hand down and rubbed John through his clothing, too rough and just what John wanted.
John thought he was turned on before; clearly he had no idea.
"Major Lorne's IDC," Chuck announced.
"Control, this is Lorne."
"What's the trouble, Major?" John answered.
"It's, it's big and... liquidy," Lorne replied. "We keep firing on it, but nothing works. It ate the MALP, sir, and Johnson's new shoes."
"What's the problem?"
"Johnson's still in them, sir."
"We're on our way," John said, motioning to Rodney, Teyla, and Ronon. "Sit tight and, uh, try not to get absorbed."
"Uh, will do?"
"Stunners this time," John told his team.
"Great," Rodney said, putting on his tac vest. "All those years of D&D, and I'm off to fight a gelatinous cube."
This entry was automagically crossposted from http://sabinetzin.dreamwidth.org/234879.html.
