No copyright infringement is intended or should be inferred. No money was made from the writing or posting of any content on this fan site.

chelle's site is maintained by chelle.

Contact High


Title: Contact High

Author: chelle

Author's email:

Author's URL:

Fandom: Atlantis

Archive: Ask first

AN: Inspired by Rachel Sabotini's observation about that pineapple in "Home," and by rereading the Grrrl's fic Credentials.

"You're like... like..." John slurred, "pineapple." The last was said with that air of accomplishment that only the really stoned could manage.


John nodded. "Pineapple. You're all prickly on the outside, but I bet you're juicy on the inside."

"I think you're confusing me with a woman."

"Nope." John shook his head, which apparently upset his balance, and he tilted to the side, ending up in Rodney's lap. He grinned up at Rodney. "Hello."

"I can't believe how stoned you are."

"I only smoked a little." John held up his hand with his index finger and thumb in a position Rodney supposed was intended to indicate how little of the local weed he'd smoked. "And you're totally juicy." John shifted so that his head was resting on Rodney's thigh. "And cute."




"Cute and juicy."

"We can't forget juicy."

"No, no we can't." John's grin was guileless and damned hard to resist.

But Rodney tried, wondering how his life had come to this, to sitting in a small room on a large bed on an alien planet, fully dressed, with a stoned Air Force officer lying in his lap, telling him he was cute and juicy. The moonlight coming through the window, highlighting the Major's attractive face was just the icing on the cake.

"Or prickly," John added, turning his face toward Rodney and brushing his cheek across the erection Rodney had been trying to ignore.

"Very funny," Rodney said, trying to sound sarcastic and hoping he didn't sound breathless.

John frowned. "You think your cock is funny?"

Reminding himself that John was stoned, Rodney said, "Aren't they all?"

John shook his head, which caused his cheek to come into even more contact with Rodney's dick. "Mine isn't."

"It isn't? Not ever?" Rodney asked, because John's dick was a far safer topic of conversation than this own.

John's expression turned thoughtful. "It can be annoying, especially in the morning. It just doesn't get the idea of sleeping in. It's always all 'I’m awake. Play with me.' And embarrassing." John smiled up at Rodney. "The way it always gets hard at the worst possible moment."

"Especially when you're a teenager."

John nodded, which was a whole new kind of friction, and Rodney bit the inside of his lip to keep from reacting. "But the times that it's fun make up for it."

"I suppose they do," Rodney agreed.

"Yeah," John sighed. He was quiet for a moment, then he added, "But it's never been funny." Before Rodney had quite registered what it was John was doing he'd opened his pants and was reaching inside them to pull out his cock. "See? It doesn't even look funny."

Rodney made a strangled noise, because with moonlight, and John in his lap, holding his cock, asking Rodney to look at it, strangled was the only appropriate noise Rodney could think of. John's cock wasn’t remotely funny-looking. It was long and slender, with a head that was just asking to be licked. "You should put that away." Rodney was too amazed that he'd gotten the words out at all to be embarrassed by the hoarseness of his voice.

"You think it's funny looking," John said accusingly, stroking his hand up its length.

"No, no I don't. I think you're an Air Force officer, and Air Force officers are not supposed to play with their penises with other men in the room."

John snorted. "You've clearly never been to boot camp."

"Neither have you. You went to the Academy."

"We had fake boot camp," John replied, still slowly stroking.

"Major, please." He was sounding desperate now.

"I didn't forget about you, Rodney. I'd never forget about you." John sat up just enough to lean into Rodney's chest, his head on Rodney's shoulder, and Rodney's arms went around him before Rodney could stop them. "I want to make you juicy," John said in a low voice, his breath ghosting over Rodney's ear.

"I thought I was juicy." He knew how lame a response that was, but he honestly couldn't think of anything better.

"On the inside. I want to make you share your juiciness."

Rodney made a soft sound that wasn't a whimper. It was a protest, a moan of protest. He was going to protest with words too, but then John kissed him.

John had a really nice mouth. It was nice to look at, really nice, with lips that were curvy and pretty in a way that a guy's mouth shouldn't be, but John was a lot of things he shouldn't be, and it all seemed to work for him. John's lips were nicer to touch than they were to look at, especially when Rodney was touching them with his own, pressing into their softness, experiencing the taste of John Sheppard.

When the kiss ended, Rodney made another of those not-whimpering sounds. John drew back far enough that Rodney had a clear view of his face and licked his upper lip with the tip of his tongue. John was under the influence, and doing this when John was stoned and he was sober was unethical. Rodney was going to tell John that. He was going to say "no," but then he looked at John. His eyes were wide and he was gazing at Rodney with open, blatant desire. No one had looked at Rodney like that in a very long time, longer than Rodney wanted to admit. In truth, he wasn't sure anyone had ever looked at him like that. He leaned forward and their lips met.

It was a slow kiss, slower than it should have been considering that John's dick was already hanging out. It made Rodney ache inside because John shouldn't kiss like this, open and generous and needy. John's kisses should be rough and wild, and maybe John was only kissing him like this because he was stoned, maybe a sober John would kiss differently.

John made a soft desperate sound and Rodney placed a hand on the side of his neck.

One kiss led to another. There were hints of wildness now, but only hints. Rodney traced the side of John's neck with his fingers, and then moved his hand lower, feeling John's chest through his shirt. John shifted encouragingly, and Rodney slid his hand under John's shirt. John's skin was warm, and the hair on his chest and stomach was fine. Rodney ran his fingers through it, enjoying the softness of hair and skin, and then his fingers brushed a nipple. It wasn't soft, and John gasped at his touch. Rodney touched some more and John arched slightly, deepening their kiss.

Rodney continued to explore, while John moved in encouraging ways and made even more encouraging sounds.

He eased his hand lower, and John went still. Slowly, Rodney moved his fingers down John's groin, his destination clear. John didn't move, didn't make a sound, but Rodney could feel him breathing, fast and shallow. Then Rodney's hand closed around his cock, and John groaned into Rodney's neck.

Using long, steady strokes, Rodney began to jack him off. After a few strokes, John began to kiss and nibble the side of Rodney's neck. John was in his lap, in his arms, and Rodney was jerking him off. It was insane and incredible and Rodney didn't want it to end, ever.

Then John's hand covered his own, stopping him. "Not yet," John whispered, "I don't want to come yet."

With the arm he had around John's shoulders, Rodney hugged him tighter. "Okay," he said quietly, "What…"

"Naked," John said, before he could finish asking. "I want to be naked with you."

"Yeah." Rodney wanted that too.

John sat up and pulled his shirt over his head. Then he wiggled out of his pants, giving Rodney images of his body shimmying and his hips moving that Rodney knew were going to stay with him for a long time. John stripped off his socks and leaned back into Rodney's lap. "Your turn."

"You need to move," Rodney pointed out, part of him hoping that John wouldn’t move because having a naked John in his lap was even better than having a clothed John in his lap.

John sat up, and Rodney moved to the edge of the bed from the wall he'd been leaning against. He pulled off his shirt, and felt John's hand slide across his back. His socks were next and then it took him a moment to gather the will to stand, because John's hand felt really good.

He fumbled a little with his pants, but then he got them down and off, along with his boxers. When he turned around, John was lying on his side in the bed, clearly watching. Rodney flushed as he realized he'd just bent over naked in front of John. Then John held out an arm and Rodney moved toward him. A couple of steps and he was climbing into the bed, stretching out alongside him.

John smiled softly and traced Rodney's cheek with his fingertips. Then he moved his fingers along Rodney's jaw and back to glide over the curve of an ear. Rodney kept still and let John explore. He'd had his turn, after all, but John hadn't been naked. In spite of the unfairness of that, Rodney let John touch him, let John's hand move over his shoulder, and down his side, and through his chest hair to a nipple. Then he couldn't take it anymore and he had to lean forward, had to kiss John.

Desire and want, and yet John's kisses were still sweet in a way Rodney couldn’t get enough of. He wanted to kiss John all night. He wanted to kiss John every night. He never wanted to stop kissing John, and there had to be way for him to work in his lab and still kiss John. He could touch type.

"You feel so good," John whispered between kisses, and Rodney nodded because John felt good, too.

He rested a hand on John's hip, but once he had John's skin beneath his hand he had to touch. Moving his hand up John's side, he found himself mirroring John's movements, touching John in the same places John was touching him.

It was damned erotic, feeling a nipple beneath his fingers while his own was being touched. John guided their hands everywhere he could reach, shoulders and chests and parts of backs. He even traced Rodney's lips with his fingertips, then the bridge of Rodney's nose, his expression so serious that Rodney couldn't help but smile, even while his own fingers were on John's nose.

They resumed kissing, and John's hand moved lower, stopping just above Rodney's cock.

"John," Rodney said, breaking their kiss, and John's hand curled around his cock. Rodney moaned, closing his own hand around John.

The pace John set for them was slow, almost too slow, but Rodney didn't complain, didn’t try to make him go faster. He wanted it to last, wanted to lie with John in alien moonlight, touching each other, for as long as he could. John's touch was firm and gentle and it was going to make him come. Rodney tried to kiss John but he was too close and he couldn't seem to coordinate everything at once. So he settled for watching John's face. John's mouth was open and his eyes were wide. He was staring at Rodney, and Rodney could see his pleasure. John was feeling good, really good, because of what Rodney was doing to him.

Seeing John's pleasure escalated his own, pushed him even closer to the edge, but Rodney couldn't close his eyes, couldn’t look away. Then John gasped Rodney's name and his cock jerked in Rodney's hand.

John was coming. Rodney wanted to savor the moment, to memorize every sound, every fleeting expression, the feel of John's fluid landing on his skin and his cock pulsing in Rodney's hand, but he couldn't hold back. The pleasure was too intense, too overwhelming, he had to let it go. He came groaning John's name and staring at John's face.

John kissed him briefly and rested his forehead against Rodney's. They were both breathing hard, hands still curled around one another's dicks.

"Entertaining," Rodney said between breaths.


"It's another thing your cock is."

John laughed. Then he kissed Rodney again, even though he was still laughing.

"I made you juicy."

Rodney grinned. "You did."

"I knew I could do it."

Rodney chuckled and turned onto his back. John settled against him, running his fingers through the evidence of Rodney's juiciness, and his own. "Why a pineapple?" Rodney asked. He knew John had been stoned and stoned people made no sense, but still, a pineapple.

"One day you were being an absolute ass, and it was either ignore you or kill you, so I started thinking about what kind of fruit you might be."

"What kind of fruit I might be?"

"It was either that or shoot you."

Rodney chose to ignore that. "And you decided I was a pineapple."

"Prickly on the outside, sweet on the inside."

"Sweet?" Rodney tried to see himself as sweet. He couldn't.

"Umm," John said absently, squeezing Rodney with the arm he had flung over Rodney's waist. "Going to sleep now."


"Just so we're clear, I wasn't so stoned I didn't know what I was doing."


John lifted himself onto one elbow and glared down at Rodney. "Rodney."

"I believe you."

"You better." John kissed him firmly and then settled back against his chest.

Rodney stroked his back, and John made a quiet, contented noise. Prickly he understood, and juicy, well, he could live with juicy. But sweet? "You really think I'm sweet?"

"Yes, now go to sleep."

"You're very weird."

"Of course I'm weird. I'm a pilot."

That made a frightening amount of sense. Chalking his sweetness up to John's weirdness, Rodney closed his eyes.