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Title: My Other Car's A Puddlescooter
Author: lillyjk
Recipient: maverick4oz
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The one where John acts like a 14 year old girl and quotes PeeWee Herman.
Author's Notes: maverick4oz wanted McKay/Sheppard, McKay/Dex, McKaycentric, or a good team story. I'm a sucker for banter and the boys being dorky and competent. Jealous John is a thing of beauty and if McKay gets to prove his genius at figuring things out even better. I'm a fan of kissing and nuzzling and I've got a straddling kink. And Rodney with baby Torren makes me smile. I'm fine with canon or AU. Happy ending please

*

Oh God, not the straddling thing again.

John paused at the entrance to the otherwise deserted jumper bay and tried to think of anything other than the way Rodney's thighs were wrapped around the Lantean version of a flying motorcycle as he worked on the controls.

John's initial excitement about discovering the puddlescooter (which was a bitching name no matter what Rodney said) had waned in direct proportion to the amount of time that he had to devote to willing away his seemingly never ending supply of Rodney-straddling-stuff induced erections.

Rodney had made it his personal mission to get the puddlescooter up and running. "It's just like one of the Imperial speeder bikes from Return of the Jedi." Despite his protestations, Carter had put the project on the back burner so Rodney's progress was limited to what he could do in off hours.

Since most of those off hours were spent with John pre-puddlescooter, it also meant that their hang-out time was either eliminated all together or that John spent those off hours with Rodney, the puddlescooter, and what he was sure was a rather impressive case of blue balls. Most nights John's evenings consisted of a couple of hours of bullshitting with Rodney while Rodney did erotically capable things that involved his hands, his thighs and the now hated, attention-stealing puddlescooter.

Afterwards John invariably spent the remainder of his night remembering how Rodney's face looked when he was concentrating and the way his large hands seemed to always know just the right spot to coax a little engine purr out of the puddlescooter and the way he could see the muscles in Rodney's thighs strain against his bdus when his legs tightened around the sides of the puddlescooter.

Of course that just led John down the dangerous thought-path of how it would feel to have Rodney straddle him instead of the puddlescooter and how he wanted to feel Rodney's weight settle over him and those thighs wrap around him and squeeze, Rodney's cock pressing against his belly, Rodney's hands sliding over him and making him purr.

This meant that the culmination of John's evening was a) jacking off, b) taking a cold shower, c) thinking vicious puddlescooter destroying thoughts, and, on one particularly frustrating night, all three at one time.

And of course, then the cycle would start all over again. Which was why John was spending his Saturday night in the jumper bay instead of stretched out on the couch with a bowl of popcorn while he and Rodney debated the relative merits of flux capacitors versus ZPMs and watched the latest season of Battlestar Galactica.

"There you are," Rodney had finally paused in his work (puddlescooter obsession) to notice John lingering in the doorway. "Just in time," he paused dramatically, wiping at a spot of grease on his cheek. "I think she's ready to go."

She. John fought hard not to roll his eyes. "Yeah, you've been saying that for the last week." He walked closer, giving the scooter a desultory nudge with his boot. "I think it's ready all right, ready for the scrapyard." John leaned back on his heels and crossed his arms over his chest.

"What, are you crazy?" Rodney huffed. "She's one of a kind." He ran his hand along the leather seat and up over the hand controls in a slow caress. "I figured you of all people would see the potential here." He threw his hands up. "She's perfect."

This time John did roll his eyes, he'd heard Rodney wax poetic about the puddlescooter (arch nemesis) way too many times. "Whatever. Well, if you love it so much why don't you mar-" He swallowed back the word, suddenly aware that he sounded like a fourteen year old girl.

Rodney snorted. "Really, you're resorting to Peewee Herman lines now? What's next, I know you are but what am I?" Rodney climbed off the scooter, his hands on his hips. "What's your problem anyway?" He leaned in a little too close, his head cocked to the side as he stared at John. "You've been acting like even more of an asshole than usual lately." He wiped at the grease spot on his cheek again, smearing it even more until it was perilously close toe the downturned corner of his pink mouth. "She's-"

"It, goddammit, Rodney." John shoved his hands into his pockets as he fought the urge to grab the freaking puddlescooter and fling it across the jumper bay. "It. It's a machine, not a woman. Although, the way you moon over this thing you'd think it was dick-sucking head cheerleader of the universe. I'm surprised you haven't figured out a way to fuck it yet."

Rodney leaned even closer, his eyes narrowing. "Oh my god, you're jealous that some little piece of Lantean technology didn't light up and start humming when you walked by." He thumped a finger against John's chest, his cheeks flushed with anger. "It's not enough that the whole city throws you a light-bright parade every time you blink at it, you're jealous that this puddlescooter didn't recognize you as the fucking second coming of the Lanteans."

"I'm not jealous of you, Rodney. I hope you and Little Miss Puddlescooter will be very happy together." John smirked and, to hell with it, he let his inner fourteen year old girl have free reign. "Maybe you can watch movies with her, and play chess together and tell her all about how you built a bomb when you were a kid and..." his voice trailed off when he realized Rodney's finger had stopped poking him and now Rodney's whole palm was pressed against his chest, warm even through the thin barrier of John's t-shirt.
Rodney's other hand hovered at John's waist before settling over one hip.

"You're right, you're not jealous of me." He leaned in, his breath hot against John's cheek. "I may be wrong, but since I'm a genius the probability of that is minuscule." The hand on John's chest tightened, those broad fingers gripping John's shirt and pulling him closer. "You're jealous of the puddlescooter."

John's mouth went dry, because after five years of playing DANGER WILL ROBINSON! NOT GOING THERE! DON'T ASK, DON'T TELL! with this thing he had for Rodney, Rodney had suddenly taken matters into his own hands. Into his very strong, very capable, very goddamn efficient hands. Hands that were making John forget about everything except how long he'd wanted to have those hands on him.

Then Rodney was kissing him. His mouth was soft against John's lips, his head tilted at just the right angle as his tongue slid along the corner of John's mouth before dipping inside. He'd always thought Rodney would be a hesitant kisser, awkward somehow. But, instead Rodney's lips and tongue were just as efficient as his hands, coaxing and confident and with just the right amount of pressure to make John's knees go a little weak until he was leaning into the kiss.

It was only when Rodney drew back the John realized that the entire jumper bay had gone dark. "What..."

Rodney laughed nervously and whispered. "Well, I figured that whether you kissed me or, you know, um, punched me out, it wasn't something that the security monitors should be recording." He stepped back and a moment later the lights blinked back on. He winked at John as he began flailing his arms about. "And that's why I win at Ancient technology and your hair is stupid."

John blinked, his erection twitching as if it too was confused. 'Um, Rodney..."

Rodney scowled at him. "Look, Colonel. I already agreed that I'd watch Galactica with you. Enough whining already. As I'm sure everyone in the Gateroom that may have been watching this little episode agrees, you excel at whining like a petulant child." He bent to gather his tools, his pants stretching over the curve of his ass in a way that made John's erection twitch again. "Now, I'm going to go get cleaned up and I'll meet you at your quarters in, oh say, half an hour. We can finish up with what we started then."

John nodded, his brain finally beginning to work again. "Don't be late McKay."

"I won't."

John turned to go, his eyes resting briefly on the abandoned puddlescooter. Maybe it wasn't so bad after all. He kind of thought he'd like taking it out for a spin. He'd drive of course, but there was room for Rodney too. He gave the wide leather seat an appraising look. He was pretty sure Rodney could straddle John and the puddlescooter at the same time.

THE END

Comments

raincitygirl
Jan. 1st, 2009 06:42 pm (UTC)
puddlescooter FTW! Oh man, that is so damn cute. John's inner 14-year-old girl is hilarious.

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