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Fic: Supernova (McKay/Sheppard, NC-17)

Title: Supernova
Author: alyse
Recipient: icarusancalion
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine. Written for love, not profit.
Author's Notes: Written for icarusancalion, who wanted John and Rodney and for me to write to my strengths. Unfortunately, it turned out that the plotty Ancient Devices fic you suggested and that I started wasn't one of my strengths on this occasion, so... have some porn :D I will keep poking at the plotty one, though, just in case I manage to finish it for Madness.

Thank you to my beta, A.

Summary: McKay had a pronounced and undeniable oral fixation. Not that John was complaining.

-o-

And I feel like taking off
Let me be your supernova
Before you make the biggest mistake of your life
Just give me the chance to get it right
-- Supernova, Mr Hudson


-o-

There was something about McKay's mouth. It wasn't just the way that words spilled out of it in a torrent, or the fact that most of them were ten times more intelligent than most other people's - not that John had a genius kink or anything, thank you very much. It also wasn't because of the way that McKay's mouth slanted up at the side, giving him a constant pissed off aura, like he was two short steps from tearing someone a new one in the most cutting, entertaining way possible - and John didn't have a kink about that, either. It wasn't his full lips or agile tongue or... A thousand and one things that John most definitely</b> didn't have a kink about.

No.

It was that McKay had a pronounced and undeniable oral fixation.

McKay shoved things into that mouth as often as humanly possible - power bars, coffee, whatever Athosian delicacy was that day's mess hall choice. The source didn't seem to matter to McKay, and the man definitely had an appetite, seeming to relish every single mouthful, no matter what it was, as he chewed fast and furious, which come to think of it was the way he pretty much did everything. Just watching the expressions that flitted across McKay's face as he ate - the pleasure as something tart hit his tongue, the way his eyes lit up whether the food was sweet or savoury - was enough to have John picturing pleasure of an altogether different sort.

And it wasn't just food that McKay wrapped those lips around. John had walked in on him more than once when McKay's hands had been busy wrestling with a circuit board and he'd stuck a pen flashlight into his mouth just so he could keep on doing whatever the hell he was doing. It always looked like it was meant to be there, bobbing up and down as McKay clicked his fingers impatiently in John's direction for some tool or other, not even bothering to look, just assuming that John would give him whatever he needed.

Oh, John had a few things he'd like to give to McKay, the kind of thing that in his deepest fantasies was just what McKay really needed. It was embarrassing, the porn dialogue that ran through John's head when McKay's oral fixation got too much, when he had to find some solitude just so he could jerk off in peace. Oh, Major, his imaginary McKay would say. God, yes. Shove your dick down my throat. Just give it to me, Major, please. I'm begging you.

"Major Sheppard?" John opened one eye to find McKay glaring at him balefully. "I'm sorry - was I interrupting your beauty sleep? Have you forgotten that we're here for a reason?"

John sighed, not bothering to hide it. "You're here for a reason, McKay. Me? I'm just along for the ride."

McKay snorted - there was really no other way to describe that high-pitched, nasal spluttering sound - and folded his arms over his chest, his glare growing more pronounced. Now, that was just unfair, the way that the move tightened the fabric of McKay's shirt. The glare wasn't helping dampen down John's ardour either.

"You are the ride, Major," he said, and, oh man, the comebacks that John could have made to that one, even if right now the only thing springing to mind was 'yes, please'.

In short, his life sucked and McKay obviously didn't.

"Are you bored, McKay?" he asked instead of saying something that was just going to get him into trouble - and he was good at that, the getting into trouble thing. "Is your supernova not as super as you'd hoped?"

"The supernova is fine." McKay scowled at him. "The equipment is now all - finally - set up, and remind me to have a word with Kavanaugh about the importance of adequate preparation. It's good to go for the next twelve hours at least, which should be long enough to give us everything we were hoping for."

Okay, it was just unfair to fit that many innuendos into that few words and John had to bite his tongue really hard not to let responses to any of them trip off his tongue. I know all about the importance of preparation, McKay or It's plenty long enough, thank you for asking or even - God help him - I'm sure as hell good to go for next twelve hours, McKay. How about you?

He settled finally settled on the much safer: "So what you're saying is, you're bored?"

McKay's scowl deepened. "I'm not bored in the slightest. I have all of this -" He waved his hand around aimlessly, which John took to mean 'the equipment surrounding you and cluttering up your nice, clean Puddlejumper'. "To entertain me, and frankly I'm not the one falling asleep at the wheel."

"I wasn't asleep," John said mildly. McKay snorted, a sound that was much more entertaining than it had any right to be.

"I'm sure you weren't, Major. Just like I'm sure those weren't nice dreams you were having."

Oh, crap. He'd only closed his eyes for five minutes, just so he could stop dwelling on the curve of McKay's ass as the other man leaned over his 'equipment'.

It hadn't helped, depending on your definition of 'help'. His mind had simply conjured up a mental image of that ass, naked this time and bent over, waiting for...

"I'm sorry, Major. Am I losing you again?"

The sarcasm in McKay's voice didn't do much to help with John's raging libido, either, simply ramping up the effect of the glare. He'd always had a thing for sarcastic assholes - and perfect asses - and McKay encapsulated both in one vastly entertaining bundle.

"Nope," he said. "Still here. Still trapped in the same small space for at least the next twelve hours."

The expression on McKay's face changed, fading from his usual glare to something closer to 'hurt' before it moved back to his standard 'pissed off because I'm hurt' expression, and man, what did it say about his obsession with McKay that he could read every single nuance, even if he had no idea what was behind it? It took a second, and for McKay to say, "I'm sorry the company isn't up to your exacting standards," for it to finally click.

"It's not the company, McKay," he said, keeping his tone light and even, because he knew from experience that that was what worked best to soothe the injured scientist. "If I have to spend a day or so in a Puddlejumper, there are far worse people I could be spending it with."

"Oh." McKay seemed to be turning this over in his mind, and then his expression brightened. That was the thing about Rodney - he bounced from overweening self-confidence to momentary doubt and then back again in a heartbeat. Even a subtle hint that he wasn't actually terrible was enough to cause that mood shift.

John was doomed - oral fixation aside, he actually thought that was cute.

"So..." McKay cleared his throat, shooting John a sideways look. "What should we do for the next twelve hours?"

"A-ha!" John sat upright, waggling his finger at McKay and unable to stop the grin from forming on his face. "So you are bored?"

"No, no, no," McKay spluttered, all indignant until his nose finally wrinkled up, acknowledging the point. "I won't actually be able to access the telemetry for analysis until we're back at Atlantis, and unlike you, I'm not as capable of catnapping," he admitted.

John's grin widened, and he stretched deliberately, putting as much feline grace into the move as he could and enjoying the way that McKay eyed him. He could tuck that look away in his private porn pantheon and play it back at will.

"We could play I-spy," he suggested, ignoring the way that McKay's look turned jaundiced. "I spy with my little eye something beginning with S."

"It is 'supernova', by any chance?" McKay asked sarcastically. "Space, perhaps? Star? There's not exactly a lot out here, Sheppard."

He'd actually been thinking 'sexy', which wasn't a word he'd ever thought he'd apply to Rodney, not when he'd first met the man by means of 'Major, think about where we are in the solar system.' But at least he could claim plausible deniability about that, if not about anything else.

"Okay. So if you don't want to play that, McKay, I'm open to other suggestions." So many suggestions. So, so many, none of which McKay would ever think to make.

McKay sighed and slumped down onto the bench next to John. "I suppose the idea of ever simply having a conversation has escaped you."

"Are you lacking in aural stimulation?" John deadpanned, and McKay shot him an irritated look.

"You know, you really are twelve. And, yes, since you're asking." He sighed again, his expression turning wistful. "There really aren't many opportunities for... fraternising, I suppose. I thought maybe when Teyla..."

"Teyla?" If he squinted, he might see McKay getting with Teyla. Certainly she seemed alternatively exasperated and amused by him, and given that something along those lines was the basis for John's attraction to McKay, it might also mean that Teyla would be interested in being fuck buddies if nothing else. If Athosians even went in for fuck buddies. He thought they might - they seemed fairly cool with a lot of things, without many of the hang-ups they'd brought from Earth.

McKay shrugged. "Any of the Athosians, really. Fewer complications that way."

"There are fewer complications getting with an alien than there are in becoming involved with anyone - anyone at all - in the expedition?"

"The Athosians are human, not alien, but I see what you mean. And..." McKay fidgeted. "In case you hadn't noticed," he said a little more stiffly, "I'm not exactly popular in some quarters." And then his expression turned wistful. "I miss sex."

Well, that was blunt, but John was getting used to that where Rodney was concerned. "Me, too," he said, his heart rate kicking up a notch, like he was stupidly getting his hopes up.

But then it seemed he wasn't exactly smart where Rodney was concerned.

"I miss blowjobs," he added, mostly just to hear Rodney splutter.

Rodney didn't disappoint, letting out a sound that was so purely him that John had to turn his head to hide his grin. "Me, too," McKay admitted, sounding weirdly scandalised, as though the thought had just occurred to him.

Perhaps it was a sense of devilment prompted John to ask, "Giving or receiving?" Or maybe it was just desperation.

McKay shot him another look, one that John caught this time. "Are you supposed to ask that?" he asked a little acidly.

John shrugged, trying to keep it light and easy, 'no big' as it were. "You're not military. And even if you were, I understand that the Canadians are a little more... progressive about these things."

"Yes, well, we're a little more progressive about a lot of things. Socialised healthcare, for example." And then McKay paused for a moment, as though his brain was churning away, doing that damned attractive thing of putting all of the oh-so-scanty evidence together and pulling a Hail Mary out of his ass.

John's heart lurched, the way it did at the top of a Ferris Wheel or the beginning of steep dive, terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure. It was the kind of thing he lived for.

And McKay didn't disappoint, but then Rodney never did.

"And given that I'm not military," Rodney began cautiously, "does that mean I can ask you?"

"Ask away." He tried to keep his voice steady, not give away any of his excitement, determined to keep his hope down to manageable levels.

"Um..." What the hell did it say about him that even a nervous McKay was a turn on? "So, do you miss...?"

"I meant 'ask' in the 'ask and you might receive' sense, McKay."

"Oh." McKay's eyes widened, his face lighting up, that kind of happiness he got from discovery. And then it darkened again, McKay eyeing him suspiciously. "Is this some kin of lame, high-school level attempt at humour, Sheppard?" he demanded. "Oh, let's mock the horny - and no doubt desperate - nerd about his lack of sex? That's what American Jocks like you are supposed to do, isn't it? I've seen some of those movies."

John didn't know which was the most appalling - the idea that he would be mocking McKay, or the fact that McKay apparently enjoyed movies of the 'Mean Girls' variety.

He bit back on his normal sarcasm, some innate instinct warning him that for once an off-the-cuff remark would not go down well. Flies and honey sprung to mind. So instead, he kept his voice light and friendly as he pointed out, "For the record, I wasn't a jock in high school. I was a math geek."

"Really?" McKay had another of those swift shifts in mood. "What level -"

"My math credentials really aren't up for debate at the moment, McKay. At least, I hope not. Let's focus here. Is there anything else you would like to ask me?" He kept his words slow, hoping that McKay would get the message.

"Oh, what? You mean like, 'Please, Major Sheppard, will you suck my dick'?"

McKay's tone was sarcastic, but John had always been more about the message than the medium. He leaned over, invading McKay's personal space, and lowered his voice to something more seductive.

"You only have to ask, Rodney."

Maybe it was his use of Rodney's first name, but Rodney's jaw literally dropped and he stared at John open-mouthed for a moment. And when he finally closed it, it was to swallow nervously.

The good kind of nervous, John hoped.

"Are you...?"

John raised an eyebrow, trying to convey a sense of 'yes, I am completely serious and no, I am not fucking with you'.

"You'd actually...?"

This time John aimed for an air of 'I hope there will be fucking in the imminent future, though'.

"What on earth are you doing with your eyebrows? Seriously, is the hair being nearly sentient not enough?"

John sighed, deciding that - as always - the direct approach was best when it came to McKay.

"Do you or do you not want a blowjob, Rodney?"

"You mean you would...?"

"Yes!"

Rodney swallowed again, his gaze never leaving John's face. "Yes, please?" he said, his voice rising hopefully at the end.

Oh, thank God. Finally!

He aimed for suave as he sank to his knees in front of Rodney, although on balance he suspected he probably came off a little too eager instead. But he'd fantasised about this, too - not just filling Rodney's mouth with his dick, but tasting Rodney, driving Rodney out of his mind in the best possible way. He couldn't wait to see if the random stream of consciousness that spilled from Rodney's mouth when he was puzzling something through continued when John was sucking Rodney's brains out of his dick.

God, he bet Rodney had a filthy mouth.

His fingers were shaking as they found the zipper of Rodney's pants, and he took a deep breath, consciously calming himself. And then he leaned in closer, taking another deep breath, catching the scent of Rodney as he eased Rodney's dick out of his boxers. It was a mixture of the Athosian soap they were all using now, sweet and slightly spicy, with a hint of musk underneath, something that managed to be completely McKay.

Rodney wasn't hard yet, although his cock was beginning to thicken slightly in John's hand. That was perfect as far as John was concerned - he loved taking a dick in his mouth when it was still soft, feeling it harden as he worked it over with his tongue.

Rodney let out a sound as John's lips closed around him, his fingers clutching at the padding of the bench, sinking in deeply enough to leave dents. Oh, yeah. That was the stuff. John braced his hands against Rodney's sturdy thighs, taking Rodney deeper and then sucking hard as he slowly raised his head, creating a vacuum as he let Rodney's dick slowly slide between his lips.

The sound Rodney let out this time was closer to a whine, high-pitched and needy, and John swallowed down a grin, swallowing down Rodney's dick at the same time. He swirled his tongue around the head, pressing it lightly against the bundle of nerves just underneath, and was gratified when Rodney's hips bucked up, Rodney's hand coming to rest on the back of John's head as he braced himself.

God, this was perfect, even better than it had been in his head - Rodney making those sounds, as vocal as he always was, his dick growing harder and harder in John's mouth as John worked him up into a frenzy. John made it sloppy and rough, all spit and tongue action, breathing through his nose as much as he could so he didn't have to stop, didn't have to take Rodney's dick out of his mouth, not caring about how Rodney's pre-come and his own spit was spreading over his face, wet around his stretched-wide lips.

When he finally had to pull away stop long enough to take a deep breath, wiping the back of his hand across his wet mouth and chin, Rodney was fully erect, his cock flushed red with blood, wet and gleaming in the Puddlejumper's lights. It was as attractive as Rodney himself, matching the man perfectly, thick and challenging, a little stubby but more than enough for John.

God, he wanted that dick back in his mouth as quickly as possible. Other places, too, maybe, although - as usual - he was getting ahead of himself.

"Want to fuck my mouth?" he asked casually, and Rodney's eyes widened before something hungry flashed in expression.

"Oh, God, yes. I mean, yes please?"

"Okay," said John, sounding like he did this every day instead of it just being something he'd thought about continuously over the last couple of months. "I'll let you know if I need to breathe."

Rodney blinked at him. "Oh, okay." His broad hands came up again tentatively, both of them now sliding slowly into John's hair. John gave him an encouraging look and then leaned in again, taking Rodney's dick back into his mouth.

Rodney's first few thrusts were tentative and awkward, not helped by the fact that he was still sitting down, John's face buried in his lap. John slid his hands up Rodney's thighs, pushing his head down further, swallowing more of Rodney whole, and Rodney finally - finally! - got with the programme.

He sank his fingers more deeply into John's hair, wrapping his fingers around the unruly strands, and used the leverage to push his dick down John's throat, again and again.

He was a gentleman about it, though. When John's grip tightened, squeezing Rodney's thighs, he let go, giving John the opportunity to raise his head again and take a breath.

"Wait, wait..." Rodney was muttering the way he did when he solved problems, his face creased in thought. "Maybe if I..." He rose to his feet, reaching down to slide his fingers through John's hair again. "Is this better?"

Oh, hell yes. It was better than better - it was fantastic, him on his knees, staring up at Rodney while Rodney stared down at the way his dick slid in and out of John's mouth. It got better still when Rodney grew more confident, more certain about the whole thing, his grip on John's head tightening as he finally began to fuck John's mouth the way he wanted it to be fucked, steady and certain, deep enough for John's mouth to be stretched around the base of Rodney's dick, for him to experience that pleasurable light-headedness that was a rush all in itself.

John's dick was rock hard in his pants, but he couldn't reach for it with his hands braced against Rodney's thighs. He could only let Rodney's thrusts rock him, each move back and forth rubbing John's dick against the seam of his pants. He held Rodney's gaze throughout, letting the flush on Rodney's face, Rodney's slack, glazed expression sink into him and heighten his own arousal.

It wasn't enough to bring John off, but that didn't seem to matter, not when Rodney's thrusts were already growing more erratic, his breathing taking on a harsh note, one that spoke of him getting closer and closer to coming. John held on, sliding his hands around to cup Rodney's ass, encouraging Rodney to deepen his thrusts, trying to take Rodney over the edge even as he continued to stare into Rodney's eyes.

"Oh, God, Sheppard. John..." Rodney stuttered out, and that was better than anything, Rodney spilling into his mouth as his name spilled from Rodney's lips.

John swallowed what he could, the taste of Rodney's come bitter and viscous on his tongue, but some still leaked from his mouth, coating his chin and the base of Rodney's dick.

Rodney's dick pulsed once or twice, the last few spurts of come landing on John's tongue before Rodney's death grip on his head finally loosened. John pulled free, taking in a big gasp of air and wiping at his chin, knowing how wrecked he must look, how debauched. His hands were shaking again, and he was so turned on he could barely think, only able to watch as Rodney staggered back towards the bench and sank down onto it, all the while staring at John, a satisfyingly stunned look on his face.

"That was..." Rodney trailed off, his hands waving helplessly in the air. He blinked a couple of times, still meeting John's eyes, and then his gaze trailed down to John's mouth, to the come now drying on John's chin.

Rodney's come.

Rodney blinked again, and then shook himself, seeming to come back to the present. He was still looking stunned - and, man, that was never going to get old - but he seemed a little more with it, even dishevelled and with his softening dick hanging outside of his pants.

"Feel like returning the favour?" John asked cockily.

Rodney's eyes widened again. "I've never -" he began, and then stopped, a speculative look crossing his face. His eyes dropped to John's crotch, taking in the bulge there.

"You've never been on a spaceship watching a supernova before either, McKay. Come on - live a little, why don't you?"

"Well, technically the long range probes are watching the supernova, because pretty as it might be I prefer to keep to a safe distance, but..." Rodney looked up and met John's eyes. "You're right. Although, I have to admit that when I pictured the new experiences I'd have in the Pegasus Galaxy, I never imagined that indulging in carnal knowledge of the expedition's military commander was one of them."

"Well, I can see why," John deadpanned. "I wouldn't have pegged Sumner as being your type, either."

"Oh, very funny, Major." Once again the sarcasm dripping from McKay's tongue was a turn on as far as John was concerned, but this time - judging by the way that McKay's eyes narrowed - McKay didn't miss it. John pasted his best appealing expression onto his face, keeping it nonchalant, the right side of 'I don't really care one way or the other'.

It wasn't for nothing, however, that John had a thing for smart, snarky guys. McKay snorted. "Please, Major. No need for the puppy dog expression - I'll... suck your cock if that's what you want." For a second McKay looked inordinately pleased to get the words out, which kind of blew the cool vibe he was probably aiming for. "I mean, it can't be that different from going down on a woman, right?"

"I have a penis, McKay."

McKay rolled his eyes. "Well, yes, I know you have a penis. Apart from anything else, it appears very eager to come out and say hello." He cast his eyes down towards John's erection again, his gaze lingering long past plausible deniability. John tried to look sheepish - tried and failed.

"Well?" Rodney did that little 'gimme' hand gesture again, the one that always meant 'produce the goods' whether the goods in question was information, equipment, power bar, or, in this case, John's dick.

John grinned, not bothering to hide it this time. And then, instead of simply opening his pants, he reached up and pulled his shirt over his head. It was getting noticeably warmer in the Puddlejumper, as though even Ancient tech struggled to cope with the heat generated by two guys fucking, and he liked to be comfortable during sex. McKay would just have to deal with it. Or not.

Rodney's eyes widened again - which was still not getting any older as far as John was concerned - and his gaze tracked over the planes of John's chest before it dropped to John's crotch, lingering expectantly.

Well, far be it from John to disappoint. He unfastened his pants, still aiming for nonchalant and failing dismally when he realised he hadn't yet undone his boots. But, hey, it gave him an excuse to bend over in front of Rodney with only his boxers covering his ass, which he figured was as good a save as he was going to get.

Rodney stayed silent throughout it all, although he swallowed noticeably when John pulled his boxers down over his narrow hips and straightened up again, bare ass naked, his dick curving up in front of him.

He had a nice dick, even if he did say so himself, and Rodney seemed to agree if the way he couldn't tear his eyes away was any indication. "So..." John said slowly, and Rodney seemed to snap out of it.

"Right." McKay nodded to himself, obviously steeling himself for what was about to happen, which was actually kind of adorable (and that was a word he would never have thought applied to McKay). And then he stepped closer to John, his hand coming to press against John's chest, pushing him firmly backwards.

"What...?"

"Cockpit," McKay said. His face was flushed but his eyes were steady. "In the pilot's chair."

John raised one eyebrow, allowing the corner of his mouth to twitch up. "Really, McKay? Got a little fantasy going on I should know about."

McKay's colour deepened, but he didn't answer. Instead his hand was a steady pressure, guiding John backwards until his thighs hit the seat of his chair.

He let Rodney shove him down into it, biting back on a groan when Rodney fell to his knees in front of him, his hands skimming along John's thighs and his expression caught somewhere between awe and greed.

Just that look on Rodney's face made John's cock twitch.

"You're just hairy everywhere, aren't you?" Rodney said as his fingers stroked over John's skin, exploring John's body with that same fascinated, hungry expression. "I mean, seriously. It's no wonder you can't control the hair on your head when you have all of this to deal with."

His hands were moving closer to John's dick as he spoke, but slowly, like McKay was lost in tracking all of the whorls of hair that grew on John's legs. It was too slowly for John, who wrapped his fingers around his dick and started to stroke it, his eyes fixed on McKay's face.

McKay stopped what he was doing, watching John's hand move instead. His lips were parted now, his tongue sliding out to lick at his lips greedily.

"McKay," John prompted, his voice low and husky now that there was no need to hide just how much this - the idea of his dick in Rodney's mouth - was turning him on. He couldn't have hidden it even if he wanted to, not with his dick standing to attention between them.

Rodney leaned in, his breath ghosting - hot and humid - over John's skin and sending shivers through him. And then Rodney's tongue darted out, licking at the head of John's dick like he would at an ice cream cone.

John swallowed down a sigh. Well, McKay had said he was new to this. But he hoped to god Rodney wasn't going to suck at this, pun not intended.

Rodney's nose wrinkled up as he parsed the taste, not looking convinced. But he'd had worse things in his mouth, like that Athosian stew that tasted like air freshener smelled but - according to Teyla - was very healthy and filling. And McKay wasn't one to quit easily - he was soon leaning back in again, closing his lips around the head of John's dick and sucking at it gingerly.

That was better - a little rough, where Rodney's lips were chapped, but better. "A little more spit, Rodney," he said encouragingly, and Rodney squinted up at him, his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk's and a little cross-eyed. He pulled off John's dick with a soft popping sound and then spit onto his palm, running it down John's length as he started to jerk John off slowly.

"Oh, yeah."

The moan wasn't fake - McKay's fist fit around John's dick just perfectly, with just the right amount of tension as McKay slid it up and down. McKay put a twist in at the end of each downwards stroke, something unexpected and exciting that had John's hips bucking up as the pleasure trickled slowly up his spine. It figured that Rodney would excel at jerking off given how he excelled at anything technical once he put his mind to it. He was probably working out the co-efficient of using spit versus lube in his head, how much resistance skin would present and whether the temperature of the room affected it, and just the idea of that - Rodney working out the physics of hand jobs - was enough to have John let out another moan.

Rodney lowered his head again, sliding John's dick back into his mouth more confidently this time. He couldn't take it all, of course - unlike John, he hadn't trained himself out of having a gag reflex - but his mouth was just as John had imagined it, hot and tight and wet. Rodney's tongue started to work him over, sloppy and uncoordinated, more about enthusiasm than technique, but somehow it was better, ten times hotter because of that.

Rodney raised his head again, gasping in a breath as he slid his hands up to John's hips, tugging him forward until his ass was hanging off the chair and then spreading John's legs more widely. Rodney's thick, agile fingers dug into the inside of John's thighs, holding them apart, keeping John pinned down exactly where he wanted him.

Oh, God, yes. That. John leaned into the stretch, feeling the burn of it in his muscles and knowing that he'd feel it tomorrow, maybe the next day. Feel it and remember. He closed his eyes, getting into the right headspace for this as he reached behind him to grab hold of the back of the chair and anchor himself. Then he was able to let go, losing himself in the sensations of Rodney's mouth on his dick, Rodney's thick, broad hands moving over his skin.

Rodney still seemed to be enjoying himself, letting out soft little grunts as his head bobbed up and down, and John - steadier now, in the right mental place - finally let go with one hand, reaching down to cup the back of Rodney's head and slide his fingers into Rodney's fine, thinning hair. He didn't push, though, not wanting to do anything to put Rodney off this, not on his first time. Not when Rodney was proving to be a natural cock-sucker.

He'd been right about that, at least.

Rodney's hand slipped higher up his thigh, his fingers moving to cup John's balls. He was delicate, curiously tender about it, and John swallowed down on another moan, his neck arching as the sensations coursed through him. It was more than he expected from Rodney but he figured, as another dude, maybe Rodney was just taking what he'd received and enjoyed before and translating it into what would feel good for John, applying previous theoretical knowledge to practical, hands-on application.

Literally.

"That's good, Rodney," he murmured, a little disappointed when Rodney's fingers and mouth pulled away.

Rodney's fingers came back wet this time, sliding over John's skin and leaving little shivers of pleasure in their wake. They moved lower, stroking the skin behind John's balls and then lower still, sliding between John's ass cheeks and pressing against the pucker there.

"Yes?" Rodney asked, his expression hopeful.

"Oh, yeah. But -" Rodney stopped, his finger still pressing against John's opening, the pressure the kind that made John want to rock his hips, work it in deeper, now caring how much it burned or how badly he'd feel it tomorrow. He swallowed, fighting the temptation just to go along with it and clearing the dryness in his throat. His voice still came out husky, tight with desire. "Lube. We need something... There's some gun oil with the weapons."

"Huh." A small frown appeared between Rodney's eyes - a thoughtful one. "Wait. I've got a better idea." He pushed himself up off his knees, grumbling as he rose, and headed back to the rear compartment before John could protest, leaving John - literally - with his ass hanging in mid- air.

There was a rustling sound and muttered swearing before Rodney reappeared, waving a tube of gel triumphantly. "Med kit," he said. "There's a defibrillator in there - which of course you knew, given the whole life-sucking Wraith bug thing - but there's some contact gel that comes with it that should be safe."

"Uh, Rodney..."

"Oh, don't worry," Rodney said blithely. "I'll be the one to talk to Beckett. I'll tell him I needed it to... I don't know... increase the conductivity of my equipment. He won't know any better. What?"

"Increase the conductivity of your equipment?" John glanced down at Rodney's crotch, raising one eyebrow. "Now who's twelve?"

Rodney snorted, the sound not an unhappy one. He waved the gel in John's direction. "Do you or do you not want...?"

"Yes." Oh, yes. Hell yes, in fact.

Rodney beamed at him, his whole face lighting up excitedly like John was a new experiment he couldn't wait to get stuck into. Which was probably quite an apt description, now that John thought about it.

He waited until Rodney dropped back down to his knees, squeezing some gel onto his fingers and then sliding them slowly, slickly, between John's ass cheeks. Then Rodney lowered his head again, taking John's dick back into his mouth as his finger began to press against John's entrance.

John spread his legs wider, bearing down as Rodney's finger finally breached his opening, sliding slowly into him. He closed his eyes again, caught between the sensations of Rodney's finger sliding in and out of him and Rodney's mouth, back to sloppily sliding up and down his dick with wet, perfect friction.

"Yes, Rodney, that... that's good."

Rodney grunted, too busy sucking John's dick to say any more. He kept easing his way into John's body for several minutes, slowly and carefully, never more than John could take and pausing frequently to add more lube. When John's ass was slick, loosened enough, Rodney slid another finger in, right alongside the first, stretching John wide open. The slight burning sensation did nothing to offset the pleasure that was pricking its way up John's spine, or tightening in his balls. If anything, it made it better, sending sharp shocks of pleasure through him, each one building into the next. Rodney's tongue wasn't still either - it was swirling around the head of his dick, mimicking John's moves from earlier, proving - as if John needed any proof - that McKay was a hell of a quick study.

The pleasure was building and building, growing in intensity until it was too much, until John was letting out soft, needy sounds of his own. He was going to come, the tension surging through him, sparking in every muscle until he was taut, hanging on the edge of that precipice.

Rodney pressed a third finger against his ass, the tip of it easing into him, and that was enough to send John careening over the edge.

"Rodney," he gasped as he twisted in Rodney's grasp, the only warning he was capable of giving. It was enough - Rodney pulled back, his fingers stripping along John's length, and pushing into John's ass as John finally came apart, stars bursting behind his eyes as spurts of white come splattered against his stomach and chest.

Rodney was considerate enough to wait until the aftershocks had stopped shuddering through John's body before pulling his fingers slowly and carefully out of John's ass, patting John's thigh absently while he did so as though John was a horse that needed calming. It was weirdly touching, the way that Rodney took the time to do that, and John closed his eyes, content with the world as he slumped back down into his chair and waited for his breathing to ease to something less like he'd just run a marathon.

He could hear Rodney get to his feet again and head back to the rear compartment, a familiar rustling sound echoing back to him. And then he felt something cool and damp against his skin, opening his eyes a crack to find Rodney cleaning him up with a wipe from the med kit.

Rodney caught his eye and smiled at him, a smile that was full of the kind of self-satisfied joy that he'd had when first wearing the Ancient shield, bursting with possibilities.

"Somehow," John said slowly, his voice sounding rough and used but in a good way, "I don't think this was your first rodeo."

Rodney snorted. "I have had sex before, you know, Major. And there are some women who actually enjoy anal sex."

"Hmm..." John closed his eyes again, luxuriating in the languidness that now filled him. "Remind me to send them thank you notes."

Rodney snorted again, but the sound was almost affectionate this time, which was both weird and also strangely addictive, the kind of addictive that meant that John wouldn't mind hearing it again. Again and again.

"Hey, McKay?" he called as McKay started to head back to the rear again. "How long until your machines have all the data you need?"

"About twelve hours."

"Huh." John chewed at his bottom lip; Rodney wasn't the only one who was bursting with possibilities. "Think you can get it up again before we have to head back?"

Rodney turned back towards him, eyeing him speculatively and taking his time about it as John sprawled naked, covered in his own come, in the pilot's chair. "I think that might be within the realms of possibility, Major. Don't bother getting dressed."

Now that, John thought, grinning to himself as McKay turned away again, definitely sounded like the kind of realm he'd like to visit. If he was lucky, then maybe John's obsession with McKay's mouth might be matched by McKay having a similar obsession with John's ass. Because after McKay's fingers, he couldn't wait to have McKay's dick in there.

He could but hope. But in the meantime, he had some nice little fantasies to be getting back to, especially if McKay wanted a rematch.

He closed his eyes, thoughts of McKay's mouth, McKay's dick, easing him down into a pleasant sleep.

The end
Tags: genre: slash, pairing: mckay/sheppard
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