chelle

Atlantis

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Conduit

chelle

Title: Conduit

Author: chelle

Author's email: chelle@chelle.slashcity.org

Author's URL: http://chelle.slashcity.org/

Fandom: Atlantis

Archive: Ask first

Rating: NC 17

The door slid open and John opened his eyes out of habit. There was no need to look. He knew who was entering his quarters in the dead of night.

It had started during the siege. One night, they'd told themselves and each other. One night before the end. Except they'd survived and one night had somehow become two. Two had become three. Three had become a habit.

They should end it. He knew this. But it was always harder to stop having sex than it was to start. John might have been able to stop, except then Rodney had entered the picture.

Elizabeth slid into his bed and John closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath. She smelled like sex.

Like Rodney.

He didn't know why she did it. Why she slept with either of them. Why she slept with both of them. He kept trying to wrap his head around it, but he couldn't figure out if she was doing it for him, or Rodney, or herself. It was probably all three. He wished he had the courage to ask her, but he didn't. He'd faced a lot of scary things in his life--Wraith, clowns-- but the tangled mess that was his relationship with Elizabeth, and her relationship with Rodney, and his feelings for them both, that he couldn't face.

Sliding his hand under her shirt, John cupped her breast, imagining that he could still feel the warmth of Rodney's hand lingering on her skin. He could picture it, had pictured it countless times, Rodney's big, square hand covering Elizabeth's breast.

Arching into his touch, Elizabeth pressed her nipple into his palm.

Her breast felt good in his hand, full and soft. When he kissed her she did that partial yielding thing she always did, where it felt like she was giving in, but she was really bending your will to hers.

He kissed her roughly, lips and tongue moving over hers, seeking out any traces of Rodney. Sliding his hand in her hair, he tilted her head back, lips moving to her neck. Rodney had given her a hickey once, down low where no one could see it, and John hadn't been able to stay away from it, tracing it with his lips and his fingers until Elizabeth had asked him to stop.

Drawing a nipple into his mouth, he sucked hard. That Elizabeth liked it when he used his strength was one of those things he would never have imagined. He'd been more careful in the beginning, but the first time she'd come to him with Rodney's scent on her skin, he'd practically devoured her. Elizabeth had groaned and gasped and shuddered in a way she never had before.

Maybe she just had some really interesting kinks.

He wondered how Rodney touched her. If he treated her like glass, the way John had at first, his respect for her mixing with his desire, or if to Rodney she was simply a hot, naked woman.

Rodney hadn't had enough hot, naked women in his life. John was sure of that.

Her hands in his hair, Elizabeth tugged him upward, bringing his lips back to hers. She kissed him deeply, with a hint of possession. It made him wonder if she kissed Rodney like this, if she owned them both.

He slid his hand from her breast downward, sliding his fingers lightly into her curls, teasing her.

Elizabeth groaned.

Only once had he asked her about it. Taking her roughly from behind, he had asked if Rodney ever fucked her like this. She had gasped out the word yes and John had come. He'd lain awake after she had gone, jerking off to thoughts of Rodney fucking her. In the privacy of his mind, Elizabeth wasn't the only one Rodney fucked.

The next time she'd blown him Elizabeth had slid her fingers inside him. Even though he'd come so hard his shoulders had jerked off the bed, he'd asked her to never do that again. He couldn't have her fingers there. In his head, that part of him was Rodney's. It didn't matter that Rodney had never touched him. Or that the one time John had made a semi-drunken pass at him, Rodney had stared at him in surprise and then calmly bundled him off to bed alone.

He shifted, kneeling between her legs. Elizabeth looked at him, just enough light coming through the windows that he could make out her face. She was a beautiful woman, and she'd given him more than he'd ever have dared to ask for. He was grateful.

Leaning down, he opened her with his fingers, exposing her folds to the air. Then he leaned in, swiping his tongue roughly over her. Elizabeth gasped. He did it again and again, before letting himself seek out what he truly wanted.

Her vagina was there, waiting for him, full of Rodney. He pushed his tongue inside, rewarded when the sweetness of Elizabeth was countered by the sharp salt of Rodney.

He knew what Rodney tasted like now, could imagine that he was sucking Rodney's fluid from Rodney's own skin rather than from inside Elizabeth. She'd let Rodney come on her chest once and John had fucked her twice, unable to stop, burying his face between her breasts where Rodney's taste had been strongest.

It wasn't fair, John knew that, fucking her while thinking of someone else. He had no idea if Rodney knew, if he was aware of the fact that not long after he'd finished John's cock would slide into the place his had been, that their fluids would mingle inside Elizabeth.

Her breath coming in small, panting gasps, Elizabeth guided him higher. Covering her clit with his mouth, he sucked. She came, shuddering hard. He continued to lick her, taking his cock in hand and beginning to stroke. He didn't want to fuck her tonight. Didn't want to feel her all around him, wet and slick. He wanted a large, square hand on his cock, jerking him off with irregular strokes. He wanted to feel Rodney's bulk against him, wanted to lean back into it and let Rodney take control, let Rodney have him.

He wanted Rodney's hand on his cock, and Rodney's cock in his ass. Wanted to be spread across Rodney's lap and fucked.

Sometimes he hated Elizabeth.

Elizabeth shifted so she was stretched out in front of him. Pulling his hand away, she replaced it with her mouth.

John closed his eyes, telling himself that Rodney knew, that Rodney was lying in bed with his cock in his hand picturing this, picturing John.

Rodney had to know. He had to.