.
Rodney barrels into Sheppard's quarters without bothering to announce himself. For some reason, the door is programmed to recognize Rodney's bio signature and let him in and Rodney tries not to take advantage of that. But today is a special circumstance.
"Sheppard, you have to help me."
Sheppard is propped up in bed with a golf magazine in his hand and he sets it aside with a little frown of concern. It's obvious that he's freshly showered – he's barefoot, his hair is a little damp and the room exudes a clean, moist, soapy smell.
"What's up?"
"Woolsey is after me about the annual personnel evaluations. He's trying to bully me into a meeting so he can help me with them. He wants go over them. One at a time." Rodney shudders.
Sheppard raises his eyebrows. "He's trying to bully iyou/i."
As usual, Sheppard's word spill out with all the velocity of a box turtle and Rodney glares at him. "Yes, that's what I said. He's looking for me and I told him you needed me for something important. So." Rodney takes a moment to try and look appealing. "Hide me?"
Sheppard tilts his head for a moment, then leans over to look under his bed. "Nope. Won't fit under there."
Rodney doesn't let the site of Sheppard's ass in sweat pants distract him and he crosses his arms over his chest. "Yes, yes, you're a very funny Colonel but can we save the stand up for later? You know how fast Woolsey moves and I know he's going to c -"
Sheppard raises a finger to stop him, then touches his comm. "Yes, Mr. Woolsey. What can I do for you?" John says, grinning at Rodney all the while.
Rodney waves his hands pleadingly, mouthing things like ino/i and iplease/i and idon't you dare/i.
Sheppard looks infuriatingly like he's about to laugh and ruin it all but he manages to stay cool, which is really not a surprise. "Dr. McKay? Yes, he just walked in. I need his help with something."
Something iimportant/i, Rodney emphasizes silently.
"Something important," Sheppard adds, giving Rodney a nod and a wink and Rodney bounces happily on his heels. Good old Sheppard.
"No, everything's fine. But it's important. I'm afraid we might be a while." Rodney smiles. He's never had a friend like Sheppard.
Woolsey apparently buys it because Sheppard signs off and plucks his comm out of his ear, placing it on the bedside table along with his magazine. Rodney sits down near Sheppard's hip, a cool wash of relief through his veins. "Listen, thank you for that. I owe you one. Really, can you think of a more criminal waste of my time than those idiotic evaluations?"
"So what do you want to do?"
"Hmm?" Rodney blinks, the change of direction surprising him.
Sheppard crosses one ankle over the other and without really being conscious of it, Rodney's eyes follow the movement. At least, he starts to. Somehow, though, his gaze travels up the loose material to the soft bulge between Sheppard's legs. Rodney's face warms as soon as he realizes what he's doing and he tries to look away before Sheppard can see.
"It's just that you're here now and you're going to have to stay here a while so your cover's not blown and what do you want to do?" Sheppard's hot gaze skims over him freely as he speaks. He doesn't even try to hide it and Rodney knows then he didn't get away with a thing. Sheppard notices everything.
Rodney swallows and tries not to squeak. iJesus./i "Oh. Well. Um, do you want to play some chess? It's been a while for us." Rodney grimaces at his choice of words. He didn't want to go there, they ishouldn't/i go there.
Sheppard makes a face, pursing his lips into a near pucker. Sheppard has such a great mouth - soft and sexy as hell. "Nah, I don't want to play chess."
"Well, let's see." His breath hitches a little when Sheppard shifts onto his side so that soft bulge he'd observed earlier presses lightly into Rodney's thigh. "Halo?" His voice cracks a little because suddenly, Rodney realizes that the soft bulge isn't so soft anymore and his own pants aren't fitting so well, either.
A soft noise of disagreement rumbles in Sheppard's throat. "I don't feel like it." His lids half close over his eyes and he reaches up and scratches his thumbnail over Rodney's left nipple.
It's a reliable trigger, that touch, that touch ifrom John/i and it's not as if he isn't half way to a hard on already.
Rodney grabs John's hand and holds it against his chest. "John," he says thickly, at once dizzy and unfocused. "I thought we agreed - "
John blinks slowly, one corner of his mouth lifted in a scorching tease. "I didn't agree to anything." He tips over and rubs his newly shaved cheek against Rodney's. "Come on, Rodney." John's voice is low in his ear, the aural equivalent of heat and sex and rough promise. "Lay down with me." The words wash over Rodney's sensitive skin in a blistering rush that makes him shiver.
"No, we can't," Rodney whispers, powerless to resist the need to push into the warm invitation of John's body. "You think I want you kicked out of Atlantis?" John's lips linger against Rodney's neck and Rodney groans.
John works his hand free from Rodney's grip and slides it behind Rodney's head, forcing Rodney close to give him a quick, resolute kiss. Rodney fights the need to return that kiss, even though his every nerve ending is on fire. If they get caught, if he's the cause of John being court martialed -
"Come on," John murmurs, his breath moist and hot. He presses his forehead to Rodney's, his fingertips scrubbing lightly against Rodney's scalp. "I just wanna make out a little."
Rodney laughs weakly, slipping his hand under John's shirt to palm smooth skin. "Define 'a little'."
John pulls back enough that Rodney can see his faint smile. "Until I come."
John kisses him again, moving his curvy lips slowly, his tongue slick against Rodney's. And that's when Rodney knows he's going to lose this argument. Because ithis/i turns Rodney on harder than a naked blonde ever did. He's only human and there's no way he can say no to John Sheppard, not in this lifetime, not when there's only a thin layer of moisture-wicking fabric between Rodney and John's big cock.
Rodney has John on his back in a couple of spare moves learned from Ronon. "Uh, yeah, no, that's not how it works," Rodney says, settling on top of John's wiry body and giving John's pouty lower lip a gentle nip.
John tilts his hips up, rubbing his erection against Rodney's. "Knew you'd see it my way," John says and he sounds smug and turned on but the friction he's creating feels amazing so Rodney pretends not to notice.
"God, you make me crazy," Rodney growls against John's neck, pushing down against John's wiggling hips. He could come from this; he has before. Like the first time, when John shoved him against the door of his quarters and kissed him. They didn't even make it to the bed the first time.
John puts both hands on Rodney's face, holding him there, as if there's any place else on two galaxies that Rodney would rather be. He presses his mouth against Rodney's and for a while, the kiss becomes almost unbearably tender, John's thumbs brushing softly against Rodney's cheeks. Rodney follows his lead, going pliant with lazy pleasure.
"You think I'm gonna give this up," John whispers against his lips, "if I don't have to?"
"John," Rodney says, his voice aching.
"Shhhhh," John says and then his kiss is urgent again, full of an impatient hunger that Rodney might find flattering if he weren't distracted by being so damn turned on.
He works a hand between them, gives John's dick a squeeze. John blinks up at him, with deep, unfocused green eyes as Rodney rises to kneel between his thighs. He lifts up obligingly when Rodney pulls his sweat pants and boxers down then completely off.
Rodney takes in the sight, not bothering to hide the fact that he can't seem to catch his breath. He pushes John's shirt up under his arms and rubs his face against the sprinkling of hair on John's belly. The sound that John makes, a hum of pleasure deep in his throat, is a sweet reward.
But he can't spend too much time on that because John's cock is right ithere/i, wet at the end, long and hard when he gets it in his hand. Rodney closes his lips around it and sucks on the swollen tip, rubbing his tongue against the underside. John grunts and arches up, then Rodney takes it all, every hot, silky inch. Because maybe he knew how to suck cock before he met John Sheppard but since then, he's made a focused study of it - how John likes it, how long it takes to make John come and what noises John makes just before he does.
John tastes good, clean - like hunger, like heat, like John. Rodney glides his hands over John's thighs and up his sides, dragging his fingernails lightly over his ribs. John shivers and groans his name, letting go as he always does. It's pretty much the ionly/i time John allows himself to loosen the stingent control he keeps on himself - when they're in bed, when they're alone and within touching distance. He loves John like this - straining toward him, his legs spread. Rodney's cock is throbbing, heavy between his legs and Rodney quickly opens up his pants. And after a second of indecision, he lets John's cock slide out of his mouth and he rolls off the bed to his feet.
John's head comes up off the pillow. "Rodney," he says in a low rumble, "get back here."
Rodney steps out of his pants and yanks off his tee shirt, watching John all the while. Rodney can't take his eyes off him. "Get that shirt off," he orders in a rough voice, opening up the top drawer of John's bedside table and grabbing the lube that they keep there. "You need to be naked."
Nostrils flaring slightly, John does as Rodney asks then stretches out, his lean golden body wantonly naked, his dog tags sliding off the center of his hairy chest, his cock curving above his belly. Rodney pops open the top of the lube and slathers it on his dick, trying to keep his touch light on his sensitive, fiercely aroused skin.
Rodney uncurls John's fingers from his cock and gets astride his slinky hips. Then he works a liberal amount of lube between John's ass cheeks and he doesn't do it with the usual care.
"I'm trying to accomplish something here," Rodney says and his voice thick with need and maybe a little anger. He curves over John, braced on one arm and works one finger into him, making him gasp and squirm. "I'm trying to save your stupid job. I'm trying to be selfless for once but can you let me do that?" He pushes in a second finger with the first, twisting and scissoring, evoking a little startled laugh out of John. "No. You can't."
"Yeah, yeah." John, his eyes dark with arousal, wriggles around, trying to maneuver himself down the bed, closer to Rodney's dick. "You're a regular Mother Teresa."
Nobody has ever pissed him off more than John Sheppard and before Rodney can surmise that it's likely the reason John's being a smart ass in the first place, Rodney points his dick down into the spread of John's ass and pushes into the blisteringly tight space in one thrust. John hisses sharply.
Rodney stops immediately. "Did I hurt you?"
John wraps his legs around him. "No, keep going."
He holds himself above John and starts to move, sliding in and out. The need to pound into John is present in each long stroke but Rodney holds back. They get to have this so seldom, he wants it to last as long as possible.
John closes his hands around Rodney's biceps, head back and eyes closed in an expression of pure bliss and Rodney's whole body tries to surge toward orgasm. He bends down to kiss John, to suck on John's tongue, slowing everything down until John turns his head to the side with a gasp.
"Rodney, touch me." There's a raw urgency in John's voice and Rodney shakes when he hears it. He reaches between them and just gets John's dick in his hand before John shoves into Rodney's grip. Four times and one more and John comes hard, striping his belly and groaning low against Rodney's face.
Rodney doesn't wait for John to relax beneath him before he gives into the need that's been hammering at him. He lifts John's legs over his shoulders and fucks him, with enough force that John has to brace his hands on the wall to keep from getting pushed into it. Rodney lets the sweat drip down his nose and keeps going until his orgasm hits him like a runaway drone.
In the aftermath, Rodney's vision is foggy, his arms are shaking and John is watching him, his eyes half shuttered, his lips curved in a slightly crooked smile.
"Yeah. That's what I'm talking about," he says lazily.
Rodney half-heartedly tips to the side and only partially lands on John. "Oh, my God," he gasps into the pillow. "I can't believe you." He lifts his head to glare at John but there's a truckload of endorphins at work in his body and it puts a soft edge over everything. "You iseduced/i me," Rodney accuses in a voice that's half sigh, half groan.
John grins back at him and stretches. "You're welcome." He slings one warm arm around Rodney's neck and holds him there, his hot cheek pressed to Rodney's and it's more than enough time to lose sight of his earlier objections.
"Fine," Rodney says against John's ear. "But if you get fired, don't come running to me."
John pulls back and squints at him. "Okay. Who should I run to?"
And that's when Rodney has to acknowledge that he doesn't want John running to anyone else. That this is one fight he's not going to win. And fuck it, he doesn't want to win. He just wants John, for as long as possible.
"I take it back," Rodney says, with a little bite to John's pointy chin. "You should definitely run to me.