Not a P-90 (4/4)
Title: Not a P-90 (4/4)
Author: girly_curl_3
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~ 11,000 total

Pairings: McKay/Sheppard
Spoilers: None
Warning: Don’t take any wooden nickels.
Summary: This wasn’t even the same goddamn galaxy as Earth. They might only be a ‘gate away, but it was still light-years.

Disclaimer: Please enter standard useless boilerplate disclaimer of all intent to damage here. i.e., not mine, not for profit. 
Notes: Betassistance by mckays_girl and ihavecake. Also looked at in infancy by lamardeuse. Many and sundry thanks to you all; you are fabulous. Any remaining crappiness is all mine, baby. Also, this is my first-ever slash and my second-ever fic (the first was HP het!) so, please, read with kindness. Of course, feedback and concrit are adored. And finally, this fic is dedicated with love to mckays_girl--thank you for all your support! *smooches* 

When they finally did get it right, neither of them was expecting it. They’d come in hot and over a day late from P3G-989, where Rodney’d been forced to go without sleep for two days while trying to fix the local Ancient tech before the rest of the team could escape, rescue Rodney and flee to the gate.

A visit to Carson found them all relatively unharmed, with strict orders to eat and rest, especially for Rodney, who had fared worse under their captors’ ungentle care than did the rest of the team left to their own devices. Elizabeth told them all to take the next couple of days off and promised to disturb them only in a dire emergency.

By the time the four of them had ended their quiet meal in the mess hall and were heading off to quarters for rest, Rodney was practically asleep on his feet, despite two servings of butterscotch pudding. He was unresistingly steered toward John’s quarters, stripped and tucked safely into bed under the flinty stare of Johnny Cash, followed shortly in a similar fashion by John.

They slept for almost fourteen hours, waking up as the midday sun streamed in through the stained glass. When Rodney awoke, it was with surprise that he was safe, sound and wrapped comfortably in John Sheppard.

“Mmm,” he sighed, snuggling back against John and dozed off again, thinking he couldn’t possibly want for anything else, not even coffee.

~~~

A little while later, John’s hand stroking lazily over his side woke him and reminded him that, oh yes, there was one more thing he still wanted.

He looked over his shoulder at John, softly smiling. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself,” John said in a sleepy voice, his hand moving to stroke along Rodney’s belly and hip and thigh. He tugged at Rodney, telling him to turn over in that disgustingly sexy, sluggish voice, and Rodney complied, skootching around inelegantly until he was on his back. John leaned up against him, snuffling into the crook of Rodney’s neck and sliding his hand up and down his sternum.

For a sublime few un-McKay-like minutes, Rodney lay quiet and still, luxuriating in the feel of John’s gentle touch skimming along his skin, raising goosebumps in its wake. He closed his eyes and pressed just a little bit into John and the soft kisses being planted on his throat.

“Mmm,” he sighed again, turning a bit more and reaching for John, slinging an arm over his waist and dragging his fingers softly up and down the knobs of his spine. They kissed lightly, more gliding lips over skin than actual kisses. It was soft and sweet and gentle and totally unlike any of the times they had been together before.

Rodney trailed his hand to the soft fuzz at the small of John’s back, fingers brushing across the downy hairs and giving John a matching set of goosebumps. John shivered a bit and arched into the touch as Rodney slid his hand down to palm John’s ass.

“Mmm…feels nice,” John said, still in that soft-sexy-sleepy voice, propped on one elbow, looking down at Rodney’s closed eyes and serene face.

Rodney hmm’ed his agreement, rubbing gentle circles on John’s left butt cheek and looking more relaxed than John had ever seen him. It was nice to have Rodney like this, naked and warm and sleepy and quiet and most of all, not thinking so damn much.

Rodney breathed deeply, pressing closer against John with a sweet smile. He was just leaning down to kiss Rodney’s eyes open when the hand on his ass halted and Rodney’s brow scrunched up in thought. Without opening his eyes, Rodney gave a tentative squeeze to John’s butt, then comically began patting all over his lower back and thighs.

“Rodney, wha—“ John began just as Rodney opened his eyes and sat up, staring at John.

“You’re naked!” Rodney looked under the covers. “We’re naked!” he exclaimed.

John quirked an eyebrow at him. “And here I was just thinking it’s so nice when your brain actually shuts up for five minutes,” he said dryly. “Don’t go overthinking this again.”

Rodney replied in typical fashion, a rush of words strung together so fast that John practically had to read his lips. “Nonononono…I just…I’m not thinking. Well, I’m thinking, I’m just not overthinking. I—“ he stopped, took a breath and cleared his throat. “What I mean, is, we’re naked, in a bed together and nobody’s dead and, barring any life-threatening emergencies, Elizabeth has promised to leave us alone for—oh my god, how long have we been asleep?! What time is it?!” He sounded mildly panicked.

“Whoa, buddy. Take it easy,” John said, sitting up. “It’s the afternoon sometime. We’ve got,” he paused to look over Rodney’s shoulder at the alarm clock, “oh, at least a day and a half left. To do anything we want.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Rodney.

“That’s what I mean!” Rodney continued, flapping his hands in true agitated McKay-style. “I’ve got you naked in my bed—okay, your bed—and we have some, some free time, and, and, and we probably won’t be able to do this very often, so there’s a lot of things I want to do, and considering that we’re both looking at forty, you’ve got to allow for extra refractory  time—“

“Hey. Hey…” John said, stilling Rodney’s flailing hands. “I’m not going anywhere. We have all the time in the world.” He pressed Rodney back to the pillows, twining their legs and trying to regain the lazy calm lost in the face of Rodney’s fit of panic.

“No, no, I know, I just—“ Deflated, Rodney closed his eyes, his lips compressed to a thin, crooked line. He opened his eyes again and, so softly John could barely hear it, said, “…it’s just…I’ve been wanting this—exactly this, right now—for so long, and I…just…don’t want anything to screw it up. And you know…who knows what could happen to us, to you, tomorrow…” He trailed off, frowning at John, almost embarrassed by what was likely to be about as close to talking about feelings as they’d ever get.

John was tempted to fall back to their usual standard and make a joke to ease the moment, but knowing what Rodney said was true, opted instead to squash his own aversion at declaring himself verbally by saying, “I know…and…me too. But we’re here now and that’s what’s important,” and kissing the concern off Rodney’s worried brow. “Now, would you please tell your brain to shut up so I can get laid?”

He smiled at Rodney, feelings crisis averted, and they went back to kissing until Rodney broke the silence. “Let’s do the rubbing thing some more. That was nice.”

“Rubbing…thing?” John pulled back a bit to look at Rodney.

Rodney huffed. “Do you really want to make me use words like ‘stroke’ and ‘caress’? Yes, rubbing thing. Run your hands over me. I like you touching me, all naked like this.”

“Mmm. I like me touching you all naked like this too,” John replied in a husky voice, running a hand over the sweet curve of Rodney’s ass.

And even though it was a hugely dorky thing to say, Rodney couldn’t help but be completely charmed by it. He chuckled and pulled John closer, arching into the feel of John’s hands drifting along his limbs.

John pushed Rodney to his back and straddled him, catching his hand and kissing the palm, then taking each thick finger into his mouth and sucking, sending shivers all the way to Rodney’s toes. He worked his way down Rodney’s arm to his chest with soft kisses and gentle bites, then nosed into Rodney’s neck and shoulder. As John slid down to lick at his chest, Rodney spread his legs to let John rest between his thighs. His soft sighs rose to gentle moans when John sucked hard at one nipple, biting gently before letting go.

“Oh god,” Rodney said, jerking violently as John moved to the other nipple. His dick twitched hard against John’s belly, back bowing as he struggled for more friction.

He tugged John up, aligning their hips so they could kiss and rub against each other. The sticky slide of sweat wasn’t quite enough and Rodney pulled away from John long enough to bite out, “Where’s—do you have—“ and John scrambled over him halfway to reach under the bed for a bottle of lube, pressing it into Rodney’s hand before snuffling into his neck again, unable to stop gently thrusting against him.

Rodney generously oiled up one wide hand, reaching for John’s free one and locking their fingers together. John leaned in closer and they kissed deeply, rhythmically tangling their slippery fingers, palms sliding against one another. John knew he liked Rodney’s hands, but it was almost embarrassing how turned on he was by the smooth glide of Rodney’s knuckles brushing his own and the blunt press of wide fingertips as they dragged against the sensitive vee between his fingers.

The sensual, slow slide of their twisting fingers quickly had them both breathy and needing more. Rodney slowly drew their linked hands between them, glassy eyes meeting John’s own as they shifted around enough to gather their cocks together in their joined hands. John dropped his forehead to Rodney’s, eyes closing as they began to stroke together.

Their breathing grew harsher as they neared climax, and by unspoken mutual consent, they pulled away before it was over too soon. John settled between Rodney’s thighs again as they went back to sliding swollen lips across each other’s sweat-damp skin.

“Rodney…” John said, low and hoarse, grinding into the cradle of Rodney’s hips as he licked behind his ear,” …fuck me.”

“God, yes,” Rodney groaned, then paused. “Wait, what?”

John opened his eyes, pulling up partway and blinking at Rodney. “What do you mean, ‘what’?”

“I…I just thought…” Rodney began. John rolled his eyes.

“I promise to do you next time, all right? Now will you please make love to me, Dr. McKay?” John batted his eyelashes exaggeratedly.

Rodney shoved at his shoulder, chuckling. “Oh my god, you are such a girl.” He rolled John to the bed, reaching for the lube and pushing at John’s hip as he began to get settled on his back.

“Uh-uh. On your front. I want to watch you open up.”

“Jesus, Rodney,” John groaned, sucking in a deep breath and scrambling to get his knees under him. He shouldn’t have been surprised at Rodney shifting gears so easily, but he was, going hot all over and getting impossibly harder at the words.

Looking over his shoulder, John shuddered at the low, dirty sound of Rodney’s voice and realized that Rodney was looking at him, eyes glittering, cataloging…calculating. He was stroking his hands over John, running along his back and sides and thighs, his broad thumbs sweeping up and digging into John’s butt cheeks, spreading him open, and then starting all over again. Rodney focused on John like he was a problem to be solved, an equation to be completed, and John had never felt so vulnerable, yet so sure that even if Rodney shattered him, he’d put him back together better than he ever was.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me, John?” Rodney murmured, spreading John’s cheeks apart with one hand and brushing slippery fingertips softly along the damp crease with the other. “All those damn practice sessions with you draped all over me… now I get hard every time someone fires a gun.”

John moaned, pushing back against Rodney’s fingers teasing his ass. “Rodney, please…” And then there was a fingertip, just one, pressing directly on the furled opening, barely breaching him and moving in tight little circles. John was already on edge from earlier and now having all that McKay intensity directed at him was making him crazy with need.

Rodney flushed, hearing the want in John’s voice and seeing his cock, stiff and tight, a string of precome stretching from the damp head each time it bobbed against his belly. “God, you should see yourself…I’ve hardly even touched you and you’re already begging for it. I didn’t know you’d be so easy,” Rodney continued lewdly, circling his finger in farther. “Do you want more?” he asked, voice still steady and not betraying the height of his own arousal.

John laid his cheek against one forearm, trying to catch his breath. “Yes…more,” he panted. Rodney obliged, pulling out and pushing back in with two fingers, searching and crooking them when John shuddered as he found the right spot.

“Here,” he said, reaching forward, dragging John’s hand back to help hold himself open. Rodney worked John harder now, faster, scissoring his fingers, stretching him, unable to tear his eyes away, watching with fascinated desire as John’s hole loosened up before him. Rodney’s own cock was painfully hard and throbbing from want. “John…I can’t…I need—“ he said, voice trembling now.

“It’s good, I’m good, god, just fuck me,” John said, pushing back again.

His pleading voice went straight to Rodney’s dick and he hurriedly slicked up, steadying himself with a hand on John’s hip as he lined up and pushed slowly against John’s twitching opening.  It was hot and smooth and tight, god, so tight, and for a second Rodney worried that he should’ve taken more time getting John ready, should’ve used three fingers, but then John thrust back at him, groaning again, still pleading.

“More, more, Rodney, all the way, please…” and it was all Rodney could do not to just come right then. A few ragged breaths and he fought himself back under control, pushing again, slowly, ignoring John’s pleas for more, watching John’s hole stretch, open for him, as he sank his thick cock deeper and deeper until he bottomed out. He leaned forward, resting on John’s back for a moment, fingers curling into his hips, mouthing the curve of his spine as he reveled in the taut grip of John around him.

John’s breath caught at the sweet burn as Rodney finally slid all the way in. Shuddering, he waited an eternity for Rodney to move, the blunt fingers clutching at him and the wide, soft mouth moving over his back the only things grounding him, keeping him from reeling at the feel of Rodney’s cock filling him.

Unable to wait any longer, John raised up onto his hands, rearing back, seating Rodney impossibly farther inside him, and suddenly they were a flurry of motion, of pushing and thrusting and fucking. Rodney was plunging into him, heeding John’s moans for harder, deeper, faster and John knew he’d be insanely sore tomorrow, maybe even sooner, but he didn’t care, because if he’d had any idea this was what fucking Rodney McKay would be like he’d have done it years ago.

It was over much too soon, Rodney loosing his hold on John’s hip long enough tug roughly at his dick a few times, saying raggedly, “Come on, John, come for me, I want to feel you come.”

“God, Rodney…nnngh…” John moaned as he helplessly complied, shuddering and trembling.

Rodney slowed inside him to savor the forceful clench around him and the low groan of completion as John rode out his orgasm. Rodney’s synapses shorted out at the sound and feel and smell of John coming, but watching him come, watching John’s ass flex and contract around him, and though he couldn’t quite see it, knowing the tender pink skin of John’s hole was stretched tight around his throbbing cock was what brought him to the edge.

When John dropped his head to his forearms with a satisfied grunt, Rodney grabbed him with both hands again, gaining purchase for the final few thrusts, pushing him down and slamming himself into John’s pliant body just a few times more before coming hot and hard and deep inside him, his own body rigidly convulsing with the pleasure of it.

They stayed like that a few minutes, Rodney braced above John, dripping sweat onto John’s own exertion-damp skin. Panting, Rodney finally slumped over, causing a slight wince as he withdrew and flopped to the bed, half-sprawled on John’s lax body.

After a few more drowsy minutes, John roused himself enough to roll over, sweat-sticky skin peeling away, only to re-adhere to Rodney in new places as he rearranged them more comfortably.

“You all right?” Rodney asked, patting John’s arm and feebly raising his head.

“Mmph.” John said, voice muffled by Rodney’s chest. “I think you broke me.”

Rodney chuckled. “Hm. I think I broke me, too.”

“That was…that was…” John searched for an adequate word.

Rodney pointed his hand vaguely at himself, and said, “Hey, genius, here. What did you expect?”

John rolled his eyes, wishing he had the energy to reach up and thwap Rodney on the head. He fell asleep instead.

Rodney woke up later, soft afternoon light turned to muted blues and greens as it filtered through the window. He and John were tangled together, a jumble of arms and legs and sticky, sex-scented skin. Waking up wrapped in John Sheppard was something he could definitely get used to, he thought, rubbing against John’s warm thigh.

“Rodney, please tell me that’s your P-90…” John grumbled agreeably, feeling Rodney’s cock growing hard against him.

He grinned wickedly at John. “Nope…not a P-90,” he said, reaching for him. “Let’s take a shower and then you can show me how much of a genius you are.”

The End