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Lessons in Flying


Title: Lessons in Flying

Author: chelle

Author's email:

Author's URL:

Fandom: Atlantis

Archive: Ask first

Pairing: John/Rodney

Rating: NC 17

Notes: A humorous first time story set during Season Two.

He was a pervert. There wasn't any point in denying it. He, Rodney McKay, was a pervert. Lusting after a hot Wraith had been bad enough, although to be fair she had looked like a hot Ancient. Not that lusting after hot Ancients, or even moderately attractive Ancients, was a good thing.

But this. This had pushed him seriously into pervert territory. Determined to stop thinking about it, at least for the duration of his lunch, Rodney carried his tray into the seating area.

And because Rodney McKay had the worst luck ever, there he was, the cause of Rodney's perversion, looking at his turkey sandwich as if it was edible.

Suppressing a sigh and tightening his grip on his tray, Rodney strode toward him.

"Hey, Rodney," John said, pausing with his sandwich partway to his mouth, and smiling up at him.

"Hi." Rodney sat across from John, looking down at his own lunch.

"It's from the stores the Daedalus brought," John said as Rodney picked up his sandwich.

"Ah." Rodney watched as John took a huge bite, somehow managing a close-lipped smile while he chewed.

John swallowed. "So, how was your morning?"

"Fine." Rodney lifted the bread on his sandwich, peaking to make sure there wasn't any stray mustard anywhere.

"No near explosions, electrocutions, accidental ingestion of an aphrodisiac?"

Rodney looked from his sandwich to John, frowning. "Aphrodisiac?"

"Just seeing if you were paying attention." John grinned and took another bite of his sandwich.

Rodney picked up his, looking over the half he'd chosen, searching for the best place to bite.

"Something wrong with your appetite?"

"No. Why?"

"You're not usually so careful with your food."

Rodney shrugged. He wasn't about to tell John that he was looking at his food so he wouldn't look at John, not that it was working. John was wearing his long-sleeved black shirt, the one that made him look ridiculously skinny, except it also made him look ridiculously hot. He had it unzipped just enough that a hint of chest hair was visible above the zipper. Since he'd noticed all that while looking at his sandwich, Rodney figured he was screwed if he stopped looking at his sandwich.

"You sure you don't need to see Beckett?"

"I'm fine. You worry too much."

"A. It's my job to worry, and B, since when do you believe in too much worrying?"

Rodney took a bite of his sandwich so he wouldn't have to answer. John took another bite too, and they ate for a while in silence, except for John's happy little eating noises, which Rodney wasn't noticing or thinking about and wasn't going to imagine later in a different context.

John finished the last of his sandwich and leaned back in his chair with a contented sigh. "That was good." He stretched out his legs and one of them brushed against the side of Rodney's calf. John left it there, the side of his leg just barely touching Rodney's.

Rodney swallowed the last bite of his sandwich and reached for his coffee cup. "It was," he agreed.

"So, what do you have planned for this afternoon?" John asked.

"Work." Rodney was actually planning on reading through some recently found information in the Ancient database about weapon systems, but he wasn't prepared to see John's face light up, so he kept the details to himself.

"Anything urgent?"

Rodney frowned slightly. "No."

"Want to go flying?"

"In the jumper?"

"I built some wings out of wax and feathers. I thought we'd climb up the west tower and see how far we could get."

"How industrious of you."

John grinned again, and Rodney tried to pull his eyes away, but it wasn't easy. John's mouth was just so damn beguiling. "I'm not always lazy," John said.

"Where are you going?" Rodney asked, trying to sound casual and following up the question with a sip of coffee.

"Just to the mainland, but you need the flight time."

"We have pilots now."

"We do, but what if something happened to me on a mission? You're the only other person on the team who can fly a jumper. You need to keep your skills up."

Skills. Right. When it came to piloting Rodney didn't actually have any skills, and he really didn't need to think of John and the word up. "Fine," he said trying to sound grudging and ignoring the part of him that liked the idea of being alone in a jumper with John. Unfortunately, it was a part that didn't care if the rest of him ignored it or not.


"You just do not have a light hand on the stick," John said.

"Excuse me?"

John nodded at the controls. "You're holding on too tight. You need to relax."

"I'm flying an alien spaceship." He shouldn't have had to point that out.

"Yes, but it's an easy spaceship to fly. Look at your knuckles, they're almost white."

"That's their normal color," Rodney said. John gave him a dubious look. "I am Canadian. We don't tan a lot in Canada."

John just kept looking at him.

"Fine," Rodney sighed. "I'll try to relax." Carefully, Rodney loosened his grip ever so slightly.

"That's better. I knew you could lighten up."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence." Sarcasm was one of Rodney's favorite pleasures, and John routinely gave him opportunities to indulge in it. Rodney liked that about him.

"You're welcome. Although it wasn't so much confidence as the fact that you're a guy."

"What does my being a guy have to do with it?"

"You're used to touching sensitive cylinders."

Rodney gaped at him. "Sensitive cylinders?"

John leaned toward him, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. "I'll let you in on a little secret. Everyone does it, and it won't make you blind."

"Very funny."

"Up!" John stood. "Get it up!"

Startled, Rodney tightened his grip on the controls, pulling back, and frantically thinking 'up' at the jumper. It went into a climb, easily missing the trees beneath them, and causing John to grab onto the back of Rodney's chair.

"Even it out," John said, his voice artificially calm.

Rodney somehow managed to even it out, in spite of being flustered.

"How many times do I have to tell you to watch where you're flying?"

"You were the one talking about cylindrical objects," Rodney replied, not turning to look at the man behind him, still holding onto his chair.

"Who knew you'd find them that distracting?"

"You were talking about mine."

John patted Rodney's shoulder. "Just relax a little, try to caress the controls, not control them."

"They're controls."

John settled back into the passenger seat. "Pretend they're something else."

"Like what? Your dick?" Rodney flushed as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

John paused for a moment. "If that works for you," he said with false casualness.

"It doesn't work for me," Rodney snapped.

"Okay," John said slowly.

"I am not attracted to you. I don't think about your dick, or your mouth, or your pin-striped boxers, or your skinny ass. I don't think about you at all. Except when we're on missions together, or when you're being the big damn hero and I have to worry about you dying, or..." Realizing he'd said too much, Rodney stopped. After a moment, he said firmly so John couldn't misunderstand, "I don't think about you."

"Okay." This time John didn't look at him when he said it.

They were quiet the entire trip back to Atlantis. Rodney focused on flying and tried not to think about the fact that he'd just made a fool of himself. As soon as the jumper landed he practically leapt from his chair.

It was only when he was partway to the door that he realized he should say something. "I'll see you later."

"Later," John agreed, still sitting in the co-pilot's seat.

Rodney was at the door when John said his name. He forced himself to turn and look at John. His expression wasn't one Rodney was familiar with. "Just so we're clear, I don't think about you, either."

With a nod, Rodney left.


It wasn't until later, when he was lying in bed, trying not to think perverted thoughts and getting sidetracked by the memory of John's half smile as he said the words "sensitive cylinders," that Rodney realized what John had said.

John didn't think about him.

The knowledge that John didn't think about him was enough to excite the part that never listened to the rest of him. Rodney told it very firmly to calm down--it ignored him--and tried to think.

John didn't think about him, which could mean that John didn't think about Rodney in the same way that Rodney didn't think about him, or it could mean that John didn't think about Rodney.

It all hinged on whether or not John had believed him when he said he didn't think about John. If John had, then he really didn't think about Rodney, but if he had known Rodney was lying, then he did think about Rodney and had tried to tell Rodney that by saying that he didn't.

Rodney stared at the ceiling, steadfastly ignoring the part that was busy wondering what perverted things John had been thinking, suggesting a few of its own in the process. There was really only one way he could know for sure and that was to ask John what he'd meant when he said he didn't think about Rodney.

He'd ask in the morning. First thing.

Except they had a briefing first thing and then a mission. He'd have to ask when they got back.

The part he was trying to ignore pointed out that they had a habit of not coming back from missions, or at least not coming back in a timely fashion. If the mission went wrong it could be days or weeks before he got to ask John about his thinking.

Rodney told it to shut up.

It didn't listen.

It was almost midnight when Rodney gave in and went to John's quarters. He stood outside the door with his hand raised, ready to knock. Then he realized that he had no idea how to ask what John had meant and lowered his hand.

Then he raised it again.

Then he lowered it.

Finally, taking a deep breath, he knocked.

After a moment the door slid open to reveal John Sheppard in nothing but pin-striped blue boxers, the ones Rodney never thought about. "Kinda late, isn't it?" John asked, leaning against the doorway.

"Yeah, sorry, can we--" Rodney forced his eyes away from the angle created by John's hips as he leaned against the door and up to John's face. "Talk?"

John's eyes went down Rodney's body and back up. There was no way John hadn't seen the erection Rodney couldn't convince to go away, and the thought made him even harder. His dick was a pervert. "Sure," John said, turning and walking back into his quarters.

Rodney kept his eyes fixed on John's back, determined not to look lower. Not that it helped, since he could still see the flex and play of muscle beneath skin.

John turned to face him as the door slid shut. "What's up?"

"I am," Rodney said, flushing a half second later when he realized what he'd said. "I, uh, can't sleep. I'm awake, alert, up."

"I can see that."

John didn't have to sound so amused. "I was thinking about earlier, in the jumper, and I, um," Rodney moved his hands as though they could explain things for him, "wanted to explain."


"The whole not thinking about you thing. I don't really. I mean, I didn't mean it the way it sounded. And I, um--" Rodney stopped, because John was smiling at him. There was amusement in the smile, but there was something else too, and Rodney was in no way prepared to be smiled at by an almost naked John Sheppard.

"So you do think about me?"

"Sometimes, when I'm not thinking about important stuff."

"Are you saying I'm not important?"

"No. You're important, you're very important." Flushing even more, he added, "To Atlantis, to the success of the mission."

John nodded, and Rodney could almost see him fighting back a laugh. He didn't know whether to be insulted that John was almost laughing at him or flattered that he was fighting it.

"I wanted you to know that, that's all." Rodney turned toward the door, because this hadn't gone at all the way he'd hoped and he needed to get out of here before he made a bigger fool of himself.


"Yeah?" He stopped and looked back at John.

"Would you like a flying lesson?"

Rodney frowned. "Tomorrow?"

"Tonight. Now." John walked toward him, stopping when he was within inches of Rodney. "I could teach you about cylindrical objects." John paused. "And how to touch them."

If that was John's idea of a pick up line, he really needed more practice. "I think I'd, um, like that." Not that it wasn't good enough to work on Rodney.

"I thought you might," John said, pressing a hand to the side of Rodney's neck and stroking Rodney's jaw with his thumb.

"So you think about me?"

John nodded. "Quite a bit."

"What do you think about?" Rodney couldn't believe he'd asked that, but part of him wanted to know, the really nosy, alert part.

John didn't answer. Instead he leaned closer, and then closer still, until their lips touched. John's lips felt really, really good against his, even though the kiss lasted only a few seconds.

"Oh," Rodney said as John drew back. "Anything else?"

"Lots of things," John said. "I can show you."

"Showing is good. Much, much better than telling," Rodney said nodding, because he wanted more showing. He wanted a lot more showing. "More concrete, less room for miscommunication."

"Uh-huh." John kissed him again, lingering, one arm sliding around Rodney's waist. Rodney slid his own arms around John, holding on as one kiss led to another and then another.

When they parted, Rodney found himself staring at John's mouth. He'd kissed John. He'd kissed that beguiling, perversion inducing mouth, and he wanted to do it again. So he did. And John responded with his tongue and his lips. Rodney's cock was gloating, pointing out that it had been right about John and thinking, but Rodney ignored it. Or tried to.

It was hard to ignore his cock when John pushed against it, brushing it with his own cock, and sending a shock of pleasure through Rodney.

"We were naked in your thoughts, right?" Rodney asked, pulling back. "Please tell me we were naked."

"We were naked," John said, and Rodney didn't care that he sounded amused, because if John was willing to get naked with him he could be as amused as he liked. "Sometimes."

Rodney's relief gave way to a frown. "Only sometimes?"

"Clothing can be fun," John said with a smirk.

It was entirely possible that John's thoughts were even more perverted than his. Rodney was kind of happy about that.

"But," John added, "I think for right now we should stick to clothingless."

"I'm sure I'll get more from my flying lesson if we're naked. It'll sink in more."

John raised an eyebrow.

John was definitely more of a pervert than he was. Rodney reached for his boxers, tugging them downward and catching them on John's erection.



John took a step back and carefully lifted his boxers over his erection before pushing them to the ground.

Rodney stared.

John was naked. He was completely naked. From his feet to his mussed hair, he was naked, nude, sans clothing. And he had a hard on. Rodney had known he had a hard on, but now it was pointing at Rodney as if it expected Rodney to know what to do with it. Rodney couldn't even make the jumper controls happy.

"Your turn," John announced.

Rodney lifted his eyes from John's cock. "What?"

"To get naked. Your turn."

"Oh. Right." Rodney reached for the zipper on his shirt, slowly pulling it down, painfully aware of John watching him. His dick liked being watched, but it made the rest of him nervous. "Could you?" He pointed a finger at the floor and moved it in a circle.

A slight shake of his head, and John turned around. Which wasn't an improvement. Because, while John wasn't looking at him, Rodney was now looking at John's ass. John's perfectly curved ass. Rodney wanted to touch it. He wanted to drop to his knees and press his face against it.

It looked as though he was more perverted than John after all.


"Just a minute." Rodney pulled his shirt over his head and then started on his pants. He had them pushed to his knees along with his boxers when he realized that he still had his boots on. Lifting one leg, he tried to untie his shoe while maintaining his balance. It didn't work, and he was forced to put his foot back down. Lifting the other leg he tried again.

John turned around. "Need help?"

Rodney flushed, certain that he looked utterly ridiculous. Before he could answer, John was kneeling in front of him, holding Rodney's ankle in one hand and tugging his shoe off with the other. "Switch," John ordered and Rodney put his foot back on the floor, lifting the other one. John made short work of that shoe, too.

"I can get the rest," Rodney said, desperately trying to pretend that John's mouth wasn't a mere decimeter away from his cock.

Looking up at him, John smiled. "It might be best if I help."

Rodney tried not to stare, but John was on his knees naked, and Rodney's cock had gone from excited to ecstatic. If it had possessed the necessary muscles Rodney was fairly certain it would have been dancing a jig. "Okay."

John pushed his pants to the floor and, deciding that touching would be less awkward than falling, Rodney rested his hands on John's shoulders before carefully lifting first one foot and then the other. John tugged his pants over his feet and Rodney was naked. Well, almost.

"Do you want to leave these on?" John asked, tugging at Rodney's sock.

"Do you want me to?" Rodney asked, because John was the one with a clothing thing.

"Not particularly."

"Okay." Rodney lifted his foot again and John peeled his sock off. Rodney switched feet and John peeled off the other sock. Then he stood. Rodney's cock was disappointed, but Rodney felt vindicated. He'd told it a blowjob was too much to hope for.

"There," John said, "all naked."

It was a completely unnecessary observation, since Rodney was well aware that he was naked, and very aware that John was naked. "What now?" Rodney asked, looking down at their cocks, which were pointing happily at one another.

"Now," John said, following Rodney's gaze, "I teach you how to touch cylindrical objects."

"I have touched one before."

John ran a finger along Rodney's cock, making it twitch. "I'm sure you have." He raised his eyes to Rodney's face, forcing Rodney to look up too. "Bed is really the best place for practicing this sort of thing." John's tone was playful, and he looked happy. Of course he was getting laid, so why shouldn't he look happy.

Rodney was happy.

Rodney's dick was beyond happy.

Rodney gestured at the bed. "After you."

John kissed him quickly before starting toward the bed. Rodney followed, not even bothering to try and convince his eyes to focus anywhere other than John's ass. It didn't jiggle. John's ass was so hard it didn't jiggle when he walked. Rodney told himself that wasn't hot. He didn't listen, which wasn't all that unusual.

When John climbed onto the bed on his hands and knees before shifting onto his side and smiling up at Rodney, Rodney was pretty sure it was deliberate. He climbed onto the bed anyway, mirroring John's position, with his weight resting on his elbow and his hip. "I've never had a lesson like this before," Rodney admitted.

"That's okay," John said, kissing him lightly. "I'm a good teacher."

Rodney didn't doubt that.

John kissed him again. "And you." Another kiss. "Will be a fast learner."

Of course he would. Rodney learned everything fast. "What do I do?"

"Just do what I do." John moved so that he was lying fully on his side and Rodney copied him. Then he lifted a hand to Rodney's chest, his hand sliding through Rodney's chest hair, before brushing a nipple.

John paused and Rodney lifted his hand to John's chest. John's chest hair was surprisingly soft, and his skin was warm beneath Rodney's fingertips. His nipple wasn't hard when Rodney touched it, but it hardened as he moved his fingers back and forth across it.

John touched Rodney's side and Rodney copied him, then he touched a shoulder, a hip, the top edge of Rodney's ass. Everywhere John touched, Rodney touched a few moments later.

John's hand curled around his cock. "Did you think about this when you weren't thinking about me?" he asked in a quiet tone.

Rodney nodded, and then gasped out a "yes" as John stroked him, long and slow.

"I thought about it, too," John said, his voice lower than Rodney had ever heard it. "Thought about touching you like this, kissing you…" He pressed his lips to Rodney's and Rodney groaned, parting his lips, inviting John inside.

"How did I touch you?" John asked.

"Any way you wanted to," Rodney answered truthfully. Most nights just the thought of John's hand on his cock had been enough to push him to the edge.

"I want to touch you like this," John answered, his hand moving over Rodney's cock with strong, sure strokes.

"That works." Rodney buried his face in John's neck. He was so close. John tightened his grip, fingers moving across that spot, the one just below the head, and Rodney came. His hips jerked and fluid flew from the end of his cock. Rodney kept his face buried in John's neck, moaning as John continued to stroke him, gradually lightening his touch, drawing out Rodney's orgasm until it felt like there wasn't an ounce of energy left in him anywhere.

"Oh, God," Rodney murmured.

"Yes, my son?"

First bad pick up lines and now bad post-coital humor. Rodney rolled onto his back and John's cock bumped into his side, reminding him that it wasn't post-coital for both of them. He ran a finger along the side of John's cock. It was kind of silly looking, but then so was his. Women had definitely gotten the better deal when it came to genitals. "Is this the part where you teach me what to do with cylindrical objects?"

"If you really want to know."

Frowning, Rodney looked up at John. "I really want to know."

"Sit up against the wall."

Shoving John's pillow out of the way and onto the floor, Rodney did as he was told. John settled between his legs, his back resting against Rodney's chest. John's weight felt good, solid, and Rodney wrapped an arm around his waist. That was when he noticed that John's chest and abdomen were covered with come. His come.

The thought was enough to make his dick twitch. Rodney told it to stop, after all it had had its turn.

John took Rodney's hand and guided it to his cock. It fit nicely against Rodney's palm. Rodney gave it a careful stroke. "Is this okay?"

"Oh, yeah."

Rodney smiled against John's hair and stroked again. Looking over John's shoulder, he watched his hand move up and down. It was interesting to watch. His dick thought it was very interesting. As interesting as it looked, Rodney wasn't sure it would be enough to get John off. "Aren't you supposed to be teaching me?" he asked.

John's hand covered his, and John guided his hand upward, and then brought it back down in a partial stroke. "You need a light touch, but not too light."

Rodney nodded. "Too light is not good."

"Too firm isn't good either. You need balance."

"Like this?" Rodney asked, moving his free hand over John's chest.

"That's good," John said and Rodney lightly pinched his nipple. "That's very good."

"What about speed?" Rodney asked, his lips near John's ear.

"Speed should be moderate, increasing as necessary."

"Moderate, but increasing," Rodney repeated, moving his hand a tiny bit faster and taking John's with it.

John lifted his hips slightly, pushing his cock into Rodney's hand. That's when he realized that he was really going to do it. He was going to make John come.

With his free hand, he gently removed John's hand from on top of his. John thrust into his hand again, and Rodney whispered, "Stay still. Please. Let me do this for you. I really want to do this for you."

John stilled.

Rodney increased the speed of his stroking just a hair, focusing on the head and the area beneath it. John gripped Rodney's thighs, squeezing, and Rodney tightened his grip slightly.

His cock pulsed in Rodney's hand. Mesmerized, Rodney watched fluid leave the slit in long pulses, while John groaned and arched, lifting his hips. Just as John had, Rodney kept stroking, slower and lighter, until John stilled his hand.

John was breathing hard and Rodney wrapped an arm around his waist, pressing a kiss to John's shoulder. "That was the best lesson I've ever had."

John patted Rodney's hand.

"But I think people may look at me funny if I try to give the jumper controls a hand job," Rodney added.

"I wouldn't," John said.

"That's because you're a pervert, which isn't bad. It's not bad at all."

"Glad you think so," John said, sounding content and mildly amused at the same time.

Rodney smiled at the thought that he'd made John content. "I do have one question. Actually, my dick has a question."

John turned to look at him. "Your dick has a question?"

"It's inquisitive."

"I don't doubt that."

Feeling more than a little silly, Rodney pressed on. After all he'd come this far. Hell, he could practically see Tipperary from where he was. "It wants to know if you give blowjob lessons, too."

"Yes, but there are pre-requisites."


The corner of John's mouth twitched. "Very tough pre-requisites."

"I'm a very good student, especially in lab."

"Lab work is important," John agreed, with a solemn expression that Rodney found ridiculously sexy.

"What exactly are the pre-reqs?" he asked.

"Well," John said, "you have to learn to do various things with your mouth. Kissing, some sucking, a little licking, but no nipping. Teeth and penises are a bad combination."

Rodney nodded. "Can we start now? The sooner we start, the sooner I can get my lesson."

John kissed him and Rodney's dick decided that meant yes. Rodney was inclined to agree.

When John's mouth moved across the side of his neck, kissing and sucking lightly, Rodney decided that perversion was a decidedly good thing.

His dick simply gloated.

Rodney ignored it.