chelle

Atlantis

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Five Times with Rodney That John Never Forgot

chelle

Title: Five Times with Rodney That John Never Forgot

Author: chelle

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

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

Fandom: Atlantis

Archive: Ask first

Pairing: John/Rodney

Rating: NC 17

One.

Rodney is leaning over him, resting his weight on one hand, touching John with the other.

Touching John inside.

John's legs are as far apart as he can get them, and he lifts one leg, resting it on Rodney's hip, trying to offer more of himself. His hand is curled around Rodney's biceps, feeling the flex of muscle as Rodney fucks him. Three fingers, moving steadily in and out, stretching him.

Opening him.

It's freaking him out a little, how much he wants this, how he can't stop his body from seeking out more of Rodney's touch.

There's an expression on Rodney's face that John's never seen before, and he thought he'd seen them all.

His eyes on Rodney's, he takes his cock in hand and shifts his hips, pushing himself onto Rodney's hand.

Rodney groans and John strokes, opening himself up.

Two.

Finally.

Three years of dancing around this and he finally has Rodney's pants off. His eyes are instantly drawn to Rodney's cock and he wraps his hand around it, pulling an "Oh, God" from Rodney. John smiles at that because Rodney says it just likes he does in John's fantasies.

His cock isn't quite as nice as the one John had imagined, but he's pretty sure a real cock couldn't be.

He strokes slowly, taking his time, familiarizing himself with the territory.

"John."

His cock jumps a little, because Rodney saying his name like that was even better than in his fantasies.

"You're overdressed."

Reluctantly letting go of Rodney's cock, John stands and undoes his thigh holster. He can feel Rodney watching him, and his fingers fumble a little with the buckle. Then he lowers the gun carefully to the floor, already undoing his belt with his other hand.

The lust in Rodney's eyes sharpens. He should have known Rodney would be turned on by multitasking. Belt undone, he pushes his pants and boxers to the floor.

His shoes are still on and his foot gets caught in the leg. Trying to tug it free, he loses his balance. But he manages to catch himself, sort of, one hand landing in the middle of Rodney's stomach, the rest of him sprawled across Rodney's chest.

Rodney makes an "oof" sound.

A very loud oof sound.

Then he begins to laugh.

Humiliation and sex, always a good combination. In fact, it's one of John's personal favorites.

Rodney rubs his fingers across the back of John's neck. "You really aren't Kirk," he says.

Lifting his head, John catches sight of Rodney's face--amusement, affection, and a smile that brings out an answering smile in John. "Nope."

"Does that mean I can be Kirk?"

"No," John says and kisses him.

"Please?"

John shakes his head. "Uhura."

"I am not Uhura. That's the guy who works in the gate room--whatshisname."

"John," John answers between kisses. Heated kisses, sweet, heated kisses, accompanied by equally heated touches.

By the time Rodney asks "what" John has forgotten what they were talking about and answers "pants."

"What?"

"My pants are still on."

"Is that what we were talking about?"

Pulling out of kissing range, John frowns at him. "I think so."

Rodney frowns back. "Why would we talk about your pants?"

"Because they're still on."

"Good point." Easing John onto his back, Rodney moves to the end of the bed and begins untangling John's pants from his shoes.

John folds his hands beneath his head and watches.

Pants removed, Rodney climbs on top of him.

"Thanks," John says. Rodney's "you're welcome" is lost in their kiss.

Three.

John steps into his quarters and stops. Rodney is sprawled across John's bed on his stomach, naked. Of all the idiotic things to do, anyone could have come in. He strides up to the bed, intending to wake Rodney.

Except Rodney is awake.

There's a pillow under his hips.

And lube around his opening.

John's hard before he even finishes the thought. He can't quite believe Rodney did this for him, is doing this for him, just lying their naked and ready, offering himself up.

Swallowing hard, he reaches down to open his pants. He pulls his cock through the hole in his boxers and kneels on the bed. Rodney hasn't said a word so John doesn't either. He just positions himself behind Rodney and slides home.

Four.

John loves puddle jumpers. Who wouldn’t love puddle jumpers? They're spaceships. Unfortunately, like the people John loves, they are not without their flaws.

They aren't useful over long distances. The Ancients had had ships like the <i>Orion</i> for that. The jumpers were clearly designed for gate travel. Knowing the Ancients, they had probably called them gateships.

More disappointing was the lack of room around the pilot's chair.

John had looked at it from every angle. Rodney had looked at it from even more. There simply wasn't any way for a person flying the jumper to get a blowjob, or even a hand job. The damn center console made getting a good grip pretty much impossible.

And the lack of an autopilot meant that they couldn't even fool around in the back while in flight.

It seemed wrong to expect men and women to risk their lives without the possibility of having sex while flying.

It was a spaceship. Who didn't want to have sex while flying a spaceship?

Normally, jumper trips were short enough that John didn't have time to get grumpy about it, but the planet Rodney wanted to fly over was about three hours from the solar system's gate. The fact that it was just the two of them added to the sense of opportunities lost.

Between the jumper designs and the rarity of double beds, John was beginning to think the Ancient's hadn't had sex. Maybe they'd just "shared" or touched tentacles or something.

"If only the chair slid back about a foot," Rodney said.

That's one of the things John loved about Rodney, the way he could clue into John's thoughts.

"Then I'd kneel in front of you."

"That would be nice."

Rodney continued as if John hadn't spoken. "I'd slide my hands up your calves while rubbing my face in your crotch, smelling you."

"I'd get hard," John said. He was hard now.

"I'd mouth you through your pants."

"I love that."

"I know." Rodney sighed. "It'd be so much fun. Lowering your zipper, taking you in my mouth, hearing you moan. Trying to drive you wild while you tried to concentrate."

"Keep talking like that and you may succeed."

Rodney's eyes lit up. "Really?"

"You're telling me sex stories, Rodney."

Rodney was quiet for a moment, then his mouth shifted into a downright mischievous grin. "I take my time lowering your zipper, letting my fingers brush against the shaft…"

Five.

It was all in boxes, everything. For a moment he considers trying to figure out how many years have been jammed into each box, but it's not like you can measure a life with boxes, especially not with the lives they've led. Besides their lives aren't over, just this phase. Looking away from the less than perfect stacks, John's eyes fall on the bed which has been theirs for longer than it was his.

"You're horny."

"I am not," John says automatically.

"Yes, you are." Rodney's also looking at the bed, but John doesn't point that out. His hair is nearly gone now. John thinks bald is a good look on Rodney--he's got the head for it. He keeps that opinion to himself for fear Rodney will retaliate by saying John's gray is distinguished.

"You up for a quickie?" John asks, lifting his shirt off and dropping onto the bed on his back.

Rodney climbs onto the bed, straddling John's hips. "I'm not that old."

"Prove it."

John may have walked a little funny when he stepped through the gate, but he's pretty sure Rodney is the only one who noticed.