FIC: Cabin Fever
Title: Cabin Fever
Author: rebecca
Rating: NC-17
Summary: We're going to have to wait it out.
Pairing: John/Rodney/Ronon
Notes: Completely unapologetic self-indulgent porn, with a hint of D/s (I did say this was self-indulgent). Started during a really bad day, finished during a good one, unbeta'ed and probably rougher than my usual. Don't say I didn't warn you.
It probably wasn't all that cold out, John thought, tugging his jacket closed tighter. It was the wind that made it seem like it was. The sky was gunmetal grey, heavy clouds above hiding the weak winter sun, adding to the threatening atmosphere. He shivered as a tendril of wind snuck down the back of his jacket and around his neck, thinking once again that he'd be glad to get back to the jumper and Atlantis.
Nanthia had urged them to stay. "Storm's coming," she'd said worriedly. "It will be bad. Please, let us--"
But they had the jumper, and they'd be all right. So John had smiled and assured her that they'd be fine and they'd left.
It began snowing as they reached the jumper, small hard flakes that stung their cheeks and eyes as they ducked inside. Rodney grimaced, brushing flakes out of his hair. "Nanthia was right," he admitted. "It's going to be a bad storm."
"We'll be fine." John closed the rear hatch and took off--carefully, as the winds were beginning to gust more strongly and the snow was coming down harder. "Just a few minutes back to the gate."
Two minutes later, he was revising his initial impression. The winds were fierce, buffeting the jumper on all sides, and the snow was making it almost impossible to see anything. He thought they were maybe ten miles from the gate, but he couldn't tell and the panels on the jumper weren't providing much help either. "I can't fly through this," he admitted, easing the jumper down into a very cautious landing. "We're going to have to wait it out."
"Oh, great," Rodney said in disgust. "We're stuck waiting out a blizzard in a jumper. Do you have any idea how long this is going to last? We'll be lucky if we're not snowed under by the time it's over."
"I'm not a meteorologist, McKay. I thought we'd beat it back. I was wrong." John gritted his teeth and swallowed the crow. "We're fine here. The jumper will keep us warm and dry, we're not going anywhere. All we have to do is wait for it to stop snowing."
"Which could be days from now. So we'll be dry, we'll just starve." Rodney gave him an exasperated look. "It's a good thing Teyla didn't come on this mission. Three of us in this jumper is bad enough. Four and we'd kill each other."
Ronon snorted. "I don't know, I think she might keep us from killing you."
"Oh, very funny." Rodney glared at Ronon before turning to stare accusingly at the whiteout outside. "Just what we needed. And you know Elizabeth's going to start looking for us--"
"In twelve hours, which is the outside of when we said we'd be back," John interrupted. "Rodney. Relax." He didn't exactly mean to do it, but he let his voice drop just a little. Just that little bit, just enough to make Rodney's eyes go wide.
Just the way it did when they were alone.
John was both amazed and amused to see that it worked; Rodney shut up and looked out the front of the jumper, arms crossed over his chest. The fingers of his right hand drummed against his arm impatiently, though, and his body radiated tension. John sighed inwardly; he didn't know if Rodney was tense from the situation or because of what John had said to him--and how he'd said it.
"Sorry," he said under his breath, glancing back at Ronon, who was for all intents and purposes, asleep. "I didn't mean--"
"Mm-hmm." Rodney pressed his lips together. "You might think it's funny to--"
"Loosen up, McKay," Ronon said with his eyes closed. "You can't just sleep with the man and expect there to be no consequences."
Both John and Rodney stared at him. "What?" Rodney managed finally. "What the hell--I'm sorry, did you just say--"
Ronon snorted and opened his eyes. "You gonna tell me you're not fucking each other?"
John wasn't sure whether to laugh or throw up. "How--what makes you think--"
"Saw you in the hall one night," Ronon said with a shrug. "That blind spot in the south part of the city isn't as blind as you think."
Oh, Jesus Christ on a crutch. John dropped his face into his hands, listening to Rodney sputter and squeak next to him. "And you--you haven't told anyone, right?" John managed finally, raising his head.
"Why would I?" Ronon gave him a puzzled look.
"Because his country's run by a bunch of bigoted assholes," Rodney said with a sneer. "They find out about us, he goes back to Earth."
Ronon snorted. "Stupid country, you ask me."
"No argument here." Rodney glared at John as if it was his personal fault. "Great. So now Ronon knows, and we're stuck in a jumper for the next however long it's going to be until this storm blows over and we can get back to Atlantis, which could be days from now, have I mentioned that already? Days. And I don't know about the two of you, but being stuck in one of these not-very-big jumpers for--"
John grabbed his wrist, thumb over his pulse, and squeezed. "Rodney," he said, his voice low and even. "Enough."
Rodney gasped, head falling forward, and his arm went limp in John's hold.
"Okay, that I didn't know." Ronon grinned. "He always respond like that?"
Shit. He hadn't quite meant to do that. John groaned inwardly and loosened his hold on Rodney's wrist. "Sometimes," he admitted.
"That wasn't fair," Rodney said hoarsely, not looking up. "That--"
"I know. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to--" John sighed and let go of him. "I'm sorry."
"Shouldn't be," Ronon said unexpectedly.
"What? Look, you--you--proto-Neandertal, but there are certain lines you don't cross in public, and that's one of them!" Rodney glared at him, color high in his cheeks.
"If it stops you freaking out, I don't see the problem." Ronon grinned lazily. "Unless you're embarrassed. Shouldn't be, but it wouldn't surprise me if you were."
"Oh, for God's sake, I am not discussing this with you." Rodney spun around, pointedly ignoring them both.
Ronon grinned again. "You must really need it," he mused. "Harder you want it, the harder you fight it."
Rodney's ears went red, but he didn't look away from the snow. John was torn between wanting to tell Ronon to shut up and--okay. No. Not going there. Rodney would kill him.
"That how it works with you two? You let it build up like that?" Ronon asked John curiously.
It was John's turn to choke. "Your people always this open about--"
"Sure." Ronon gave him a puzzled look. "Why not?"
"We're...not. Sex is...a lot more private. Usually."
Ronon snorted. "That explains a lot." He stretched out again, crossing his ankles. "Bet it's been a while," he commented.
It had. Nearly six weeks since they'd really been able to just--John sighed and looked at Rodney. "Hey, it's not like we've got anything else to do," he said, seeing the humor in the situation. "C'mon, Rodney. This isn't going to go by any faster if you sulk."
Rodney glared at him. "You may think it's fine to share details of our sex life," he said in a clipped voice. "But I don't."
Ronon shrugged and grinned. "Yeah, it's been a while."
John really couldn't say anything to that, Rodney wasn't saying anything, and Ronon seemed content to relax and doze. With a sigh, John looked out at the snow.
Next to him, Rodney rubbed the back of his neck, almost absently. He shook his head, shifting a little in his seat, and rubbed his neck again, and with a flash of insight John realized what he was doing. John had thrown him into headspace, at least partially; Rodney was trying to get himself out of it. Fairly unsuccessfully, if the uncomfortable look on his face was any indication.
At least they had time. The snow wasn't letting up at all--if anything, it was coming down harder. "Rodney," John said softly, turning to him. "You--"
"Don't," Rodney said curtly. "Don't talk to me, don't--just--" He shook his head angrily. "Damnit, John, I can't--"
"Rodney," John said again, quietly. "Look at me."
"No!" Rodney shoved himself out of his seat, pacing. He made it to the back hatch and back, there and back--
And then Ronon caught him. "You need something to fight against, McKay?" he asked softly in Rodney's ear, arms wrapped tight around Rodney's chest, pinning his arms to his sides. "That what you need?"
"Let go of me," Rodney spat, every muscle straining against Ronon's hold on him.
Ronon laughed softly. "Not a chance, McKay." He tightened his grip. "Doesn't have to be any more than this," he said softly, evenly.
Rodney shuddered. "John--" His voice was pleading, but for once John had no idea what he was asking for.
He got up and went to stand in front of Rodney, meeting wide blue eyes. "Is this what you want, Rodney?" he asked quietly.
"You're telling me you do?" Rodney's voice was barely more than a whisper. He was falling, falling hard, and John didn't need to see the tented fabric of his pants to know that at least part of him wanted this.
Rodney in headspace for him was always a no-brainer. Add Ronon in, and John swallowed hard, because oh, fuck, did he want to see that. "Yeah," he said. "I do."
Rodney's breath caught in his throat. "John," he breathed, closing his eyes. "Oh, fuck, John."
Slowly, his body relaxed and he went limp in Ronon's arms, head falling forward. John took his wrists and gripped them both tight, thumbs pressing down. "Fall for me," he murmured. "Fall."
Rodney moaned, shuddering against Ronon. Ronon kept one arm around Rodney's chest, holding him tight, but the other hand tilted Rodney's chin up, bringing his head back for a kiss. John watched, entranced, as Ronon kissed Rodney. It was slow, and deliberate, and Rodney melted into it, his skin pale against Ronon's hand, his mouth soft and yielding under Ronon's. It was incredibly, amazingly hot, and John had never really considered himself much of a voyeur but he was hard as steel just from this alone.
Slowly, Ronon released Rodney's face, his hand sliding down to cup Rodney's throat briefly, thumb pressing over his carotid. Rodney gasped and John filed that away for later; they hadn't tried breathplay before but from the way Rodney was responding--well. Yeah. Um.
Ronon's hand slid down, and down, cupping the bulge between Rodney's legs and squeezing, making Rodney groan and thrust up into it. "Not yet," Ronon murmured with a low chuckle. He left his hand where it was, though, and looked at John. "You gonna let me fuck him?"
Interesting way to put it, and a nice way of acknowledging the power dynamics. John nodded, mouth dry. "There are blankets," he said, moving to get them. "If we--"
Ronon nodded and between the two of them they spread out their jackets and the blankets, creating a makeshift pallet on the floor of the jumper. It'd do, John thought, and looked at Rodney, who had slid down to sit on the floor, arms draped over his knees. John knelt on the blankets and held out a hand. "C'mere," he said, and Rodney moved over to him, pressing against him for a kiss. "What's your safeword?" he murmured against Rodney's mouth, because this was new, and sometimes Rodney didn't always respond so well to new--although given his reactions tonight John was wondering if they should do this more often.
Rodney smiled a little. "Atlantis," he said quietly.
"You're okay?" John asked, stroking Rodney's face.
"Yes." Rodney leaned into the touch.
John kissed him again, deeply, tongue stroking into Rodney's mouth as if he could taste Ronon there. Rodney groaned low in his throat and pressed closer against him, yielding to John the way he'd yielded to Ronon, and God that was hot.
Ronon knelt behind Rodney, his hands on Rodney's upper arms; when John pulled back, Ronon bent down and kissed Rodney, releasing him only when both of them were breathing hard. Ronon gave him a little push and Rodney fell against John and into John's kiss, moaning. So that was how he wanted it, John thought with a mental smile, and kissed Rodney breathless before biting his lower lip and pressing him back against Ronon for Ronon's kiss.
They traded him back and forth, kissing him senseless, working their way down his throat to hear him gasp and whimper between them. John bit down just over his collarbone and felt him shudder, twisting against Ronon's hands. Ronon grinned and looked up. "He likes that, huh?"
John grinned back. "If I didn't have to worry about other people seeing marks on him..."
Ronon laughed. "C'mon. Let's get rid of the clothes."
Rodney squirmed between them as they undressed him, restless against John and twisting back to kiss Ronon, who grinned and caught his hands to hold him still so John could pull off his boots and his pants. "Nice," Ronon said in appreciation, eyes running over Rodney's body. He leaned down and kissed Rodney's shoulder, the nape of his neck. Rodney flushed a little, but he twisted and kissed the corner of Ronon's mouth.
Ronon shifted, sitting back on his heels and pulling Rodney into his lap so Rodney was straddling him. John moved to press against Rodney's back, taking some of his weight and coaxing Rodney to lean back to let Ronon play with his throat and his chest. Rodney groaned and tried to squirm away, but between John's hands on his hips and Ronon holding his wrists, he wasn't going anywhere. He subsided with a low whimper, head tossing against John's shoulder.
"Always did want to see if he was sensitive here," Ronon admitted with a grin, licking one of Rodney's nipples. He blew gently and the little nub hardened; Rodney gasped and writhed between them, hands flexing in Ronon's hold. John just grinned back and let Ronon play, watching Rodney moan and twist against him, struggling against it, his head back and his arms pulling against Ronon's grip. He was beyond speech by this point, John knew, the soft moans and gasps the only sounds he could make.
Pushing Rodney past the ability to talk was something John never took for granted and always loved. And from the smile on Ronon's face when he raised his head, he felt much the same.
"You know," John said matter-of-factly, "for this to work we need to lose the clothes too."
Ronon grinned. "Yeah." He kissed Rodney, hard, swallowing his moan. "You first."
So that was how he wanted to play it. John shrugged and eased out from behind Rodney, letting Ronon support him so John could get undressed. He didn't bother with finesse, he just yanked off his clothes and boots, sitting back on the blankets and leaning back on his hands. "Your turn," he said easily.
Ronon gave him a slow once-over and an equally slow smile. "Nice," he said again.
"Thanks." John grinned and pulled Rodney against him, snuggling him into his side. Rodney leaned up for a kiss, his cock hard where it pressed into John's hip. His face was pleading, eager, and John kissed him again, fingers stroking his hair. "Soon," he murmured. "I promise. Trust me, okay?"
Rodney whimpered, but nodded.
Okay. Ronon's clothes had gone somewhere else and maybe Rodney was their connection now, but in future, maybe that would change, if they did this again, and John really hoped they did this again, because--oh, fuck, nice didn't even come close to covering it but it was all he could say. "Nice," he said thickly, swallowing around a dry mouth.
Ronon grinned and knelt back down on the blankets, shaking back his dreads. "Thanks." He skimmed a finger down Rodney's face and his shoulder, smiling faintly at the way Rodney looked at him pleadingly and leaned into it. "You got anything?"
"Yeah." John grabbed his vest and fumbled a pocket open, taking out the small tube he kept in there. Just in case, even though it was dangerous, because you never knew when you'd get stuck having a threesome in a jumper grounded by a blizzard. "If we..." He suited actions to thought, stretching out on the blankets and propping himself up on his elbows. "Rodney, c'mere," he said softly. "Over me."
Rodney crawled over him, leaning down for a kiss, whimpering softly into John's mouth. "Shh," John whispered, stroking Rodney's hair. "Easy."
Ronon knelt behind him, smoothing a hand down his back and over his ass. "Damn," he said in appreciation. "Now that's just gorgeous."
"Mm-hmm." At Rodney's blush, John soothed him, petting him and kissing him until he settled. "Easy," John murmured. "It's okay, Rodney. Relax."
John watched Ronon open the lube and slick his fingers. He didn't expect Ronon to be patient, but he was surprised to be wrong; Ronon teased Rodney's hole with a finger, pressing and circling until Rodney groaned and Ronon's finger slid in easily. And oh, hell, it was fucking hot to see Rodney on hands and knees over him with Ronon's finger in his ass, stretching him open, Rodney's head hanging down and sweat on his forehead as he fought to relax, to accept Ronon's fingers inside him.
He would. John knew he would. But he watched carefully as one finger became two, as Rodney shuddered and the look in his eyes became wild and hungry. His breath was ragged, quick in his throat, soft little moans escaping him every time he exhaled. He was close to breaking, on the edge of falling apart; John kissed him and tasted his desperation and swallowed his gasp as Ronon's fingers brushed his prostate.
"J-John," Rodney managed, trembling. "John, please--"
The tips of Ronon's dreads brushed Rodney's back as he leaned down to kiss Rodney's spine. "You ready?" he asked.
Rodney nodded jerkily and took a deep breath, hands clenching in the blankets. Ronon's hands settled on his hips and he pushed in smooth and sure and Rodney groaned, deep in his chest, head flying back. John held his arms, giving him something to ground to, to focus on as he struggled to breathe.
They all felt it, the moment where Rodney just gave, when his body followed his mind and surrendered utterly. Ronon groaned, his hands tightening on Rodney's hips as he began to move, long hard thrusts that rocked Rodney forward against John, their mouths barely meeting every time Ronon drove into Rodney.
John lay back and reached down, wrapping his hands around his and Rodney's cocks, jerking them off as best he could in rhythm with Ronon's thrusts. Rodney cried out harshly, a gasp of sound, and Ronon angled his hips a little differently, just a little, and Rodney cried out again, pleading wordlessly. John tightened his grip, twisting his hand the way he knew Rodney liked; he rubbed his thumb over the head and Ronon kept fucking him at that angle and Rodney was trembling now, whining.
Almost, almost; John was so close, but Rodney wasn't there yet, not-- "Please," Rodney gasped out, the word taking everything he had. "Oh, God, please--"
Yes. John kissed him, hard, biting his lip, and he twisted his hand and whispered "Come for me" against Rodney's mouth and Rodney keened, long and low, coming all over John's hands. And just like always, the sight and sound of Rodney coming was enough to tip John over the edge and he groaned, thrusting up against Rodney's body and spilling between them both.
Ronon groaned something incoherent, driving into Rodney harder and faster, shoving him against John, short battering thrusts that had Rodney moaning, even as he half-collapsed against John. His weight was heavy but John didn't mind, not yet, because he could focus on it as he settled back into himself.
"Fuck," Ronon groaned, long and drawn out, and he came with one last violent thrust, panting for air. He stayed where he was for a moment or ten; John had no idea how long it was and didn't much care, before he eased out carefully and stretched out on the blankets. "Damn," he said, looking at the ceiling of the jumper. "That...damn."
John grinned and carefully settled Rodney on his side, next to him. Rodney burrowed in close, nuzzling John's neck, and John held him and petted him, letting him find headspace in his own time. Sometimes he thought this was his favorite part of it all, when Rodney snuggled in his arms and purred against his skin, loose and relaxed in a way only John--well, usually--saw.
Ronon rolled onto his side and curled in behind Rodney, who sighed and stretched. "Mmm," he said finally, his voice husky.
"You okay?" John asked.
Rodney nodded. "Mm-hmm."
He wasn't up yet, but he was getting there. John was a little worried about how he'd react to Ronon once he was back in normal headspace, except he couldn't do anything until it happened. So he stroked Rodney's back and kissed his hair and let him come back.
Ronon kissed Rodney's neck gently. "Thank you," he said quietly.
"Mmm." Rodney stretched. "I'd tell you not to get used to it except that I think we'd all rather like it if you did."
Okay. So much for John needing to worry. He laughed, exchanging grins with Ronon, and kissed Rodney full on the mouth. "It's still snowing," he said, listening to the hiss in the wind.
"Good. It'll give us a chance to clean up before we have to get back to Atlantis, and I don't particularly feel like moving just yet." Rodney's voice was softer than his words, languid and full of satiation. "If that's all right with you two?"
John raised a questioning eyebrow at Ronon, who yawned and settled in behind Rodney. "It's fine," he said, getting more comfortable. "Get some sleep."
"Mm-hmm." Rodney was already drifting off, Ronon seemed to be out like a light, and with a final glance at the snow John closed his eyes and settled against Rodney.
He hoped it didn't stop snowing for a while yet.
Author: rebecca
Rating: NC-17
Summary: We're going to have to wait it out.
Pairing: John/Rodney/Ronon
Notes: Completely unapologetic self-indulgent porn, with a hint of D/s (I did say this was self-indulgent). Started during a really bad day, finished during a good one, unbeta'ed and probably rougher than my usual. Don't say I didn't warn you.
It probably wasn't all that cold out, John thought, tugging his jacket closed tighter. It was the wind that made it seem like it was. The sky was gunmetal grey, heavy clouds above hiding the weak winter sun, adding to the threatening atmosphere. He shivered as a tendril of wind snuck down the back of his jacket and around his neck, thinking once again that he'd be glad to get back to the jumper and Atlantis.
Nanthia had urged them to stay. "Storm's coming," she'd said worriedly. "It will be bad. Please, let us--"
But they had the jumper, and they'd be all right. So John had smiled and assured her that they'd be fine and they'd left.
It began snowing as they reached the jumper, small hard flakes that stung their cheeks and eyes as they ducked inside. Rodney grimaced, brushing flakes out of his hair. "Nanthia was right," he admitted. "It's going to be a bad storm."
"We'll be fine." John closed the rear hatch and took off--carefully, as the winds were beginning to gust more strongly and the snow was coming down harder. "Just a few minutes back to the gate."
Two minutes later, he was revising his initial impression. The winds were fierce, buffeting the jumper on all sides, and the snow was making it almost impossible to see anything. He thought they were maybe ten miles from the gate, but he couldn't tell and the panels on the jumper weren't providing much help either. "I can't fly through this," he admitted, easing the jumper down into a very cautious landing. "We're going to have to wait it out."
"Oh, great," Rodney said in disgust. "We're stuck waiting out a blizzard in a jumper. Do you have any idea how long this is going to last? We'll be lucky if we're not snowed under by the time it's over."
"I'm not a meteorologist, McKay. I thought we'd beat it back. I was wrong." John gritted his teeth and swallowed the crow. "We're fine here. The jumper will keep us warm and dry, we're not going anywhere. All we have to do is wait for it to stop snowing."
"Which could be days from now. So we'll be dry, we'll just starve." Rodney gave him an exasperated look. "It's a good thing Teyla didn't come on this mission. Three of us in this jumper is bad enough. Four and we'd kill each other."
Ronon snorted. "I don't know, I think she might keep us from killing you."
"Oh, very funny." Rodney glared at Ronon before turning to stare accusingly at the whiteout outside. "Just what we needed. And you know Elizabeth's going to start looking for us--"
"In twelve hours, which is the outside of when we said we'd be back," John interrupted. "Rodney. Relax." He didn't exactly mean to do it, but he let his voice drop just a little. Just that little bit, just enough to make Rodney's eyes go wide.
Just the way it did when they were alone.
John was both amazed and amused to see that it worked; Rodney shut up and looked out the front of the jumper, arms crossed over his chest. The fingers of his right hand drummed against his arm impatiently, though, and his body radiated tension. John sighed inwardly; he didn't know if Rodney was tense from the situation or because of what John had said to him--and how he'd said it.
"Sorry," he said under his breath, glancing back at Ronon, who was for all intents and purposes, asleep. "I didn't mean--"
"Mm-hmm." Rodney pressed his lips together. "You might think it's funny to--"
"Loosen up, McKay," Ronon said with his eyes closed. "You can't just sleep with the man and expect there to be no consequences."
Both John and Rodney stared at him. "What?" Rodney managed finally. "What the hell--I'm sorry, did you just say--"
Ronon snorted and opened his eyes. "You gonna tell me you're not fucking each other?"
John wasn't sure whether to laugh or throw up. "How--what makes you think--"
"Saw you in the hall one night," Ronon said with a shrug. "That blind spot in the south part of the city isn't as blind as you think."
Oh, Jesus Christ on a crutch. John dropped his face into his hands, listening to Rodney sputter and squeak next to him. "And you--you haven't told anyone, right?" John managed finally, raising his head.
"Why would I?" Ronon gave him a puzzled look.
"Because his country's run by a bunch of bigoted assholes," Rodney said with a sneer. "They find out about us, he goes back to Earth."
Ronon snorted. "Stupid country, you ask me."
"No argument here." Rodney glared at John as if it was his personal fault. "Great. So now Ronon knows, and we're stuck in a jumper for the next however long it's going to be until this storm blows over and we can get back to Atlantis, which could be days from now, have I mentioned that already? Days. And I don't know about the two of you, but being stuck in one of these not-very-big jumpers for--"
John grabbed his wrist, thumb over his pulse, and squeezed. "Rodney," he said, his voice low and even. "Enough."
Rodney gasped, head falling forward, and his arm went limp in John's hold.
"Okay, that I didn't know." Ronon grinned. "He always respond like that?"
Shit. He hadn't quite meant to do that. John groaned inwardly and loosened his hold on Rodney's wrist. "Sometimes," he admitted.
"That wasn't fair," Rodney said hoarsely, not looking up. "That--"
"I know. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to--" John sighed and let go of him. "I'm sorry."
"Shouldn't be," Ronon said unexpectedly.
"What? Look, you--you--proto-Neandertal, but there are certain lines you don't cross in public, and that's one of them!" Rodney glared at him, color high in his cheeks.
"If it stops you freaking out, I don't see the problem." Ronon grinned lazily. "Unless you're embarrassed. Shouldn't be, but it wouldn't surprise me if you were."
"Oh, for God's sake, I am not discussing this with you." Rodney spun around, pointedly ignoring them both.
Ronon grinned again. "You must really need it," he mused. "Harder you want it, the harder you fight it."
Rodney's ears went red, but he didn't look away from the snow. John was torn between wanting to tell Ronon to shut up and--okay. No. Not going there. Rodney would kill him.
"That how it works with you two? You let it build up like that?" Ronon asked John curiously.
It was John's turn to choke. "Your people always this open about--"
"Sure." Ronon gave him a puzzled look. "Why not?"
"We're...not. Sex is...a lot more private. Usually."
Ronon snorted. "That explains a lot." He stretched out again, crossing his ankles. "Bet it's been a while," he commented.
It had. Nearly six weeks since they'd really been able to just--John sighed and looked at Rodney. "Hey, it's not like we've got anything else to do," he said, seeing the humor in the situation. "C'mon, Rodney. This isn't going to go by any faster if you sulk."
Rodney glared at him. "You may think it's fine to share details of our sex life," he said in a clipped voice. "But I don't."
Ronon shrugged and grinned. "Yeah, it's been a while."
John really couldn't say anything to that, Rodney wasn't saying anything, and Ronon seemed content to relax and doze. With a sigh, John looked out at the snow.
Next to him, Rodney rubbed the back of his neck, almost absently. He shook his head, shifting a little in his seat, and rubbed his neck again, and with a flash of insight John realized what he was doing. John had thrown him into headspace, at least partially; Rodney was trying to get himself out of it. Fairly unsuccessfully, if the uncomfortable look on his face was any indication.
At least they had time. The snow wasn't letting up at all--if anything, it was coming down harder. "Rodney," John said softly, turning to him. "You--"
"Don't," Rodney said curtly. "Don't talk to me, don't--just--" He shook his head angrily. "Damnit, John, I can't--"
"Rodney," John said again, quietly. "Look at me."
"No!" Rodney shoved himself out of his seat, pacing. He made it to the back hatch and back, there and back--
And then Ronon caught him. "You need something to fight against, McKay?" he asked softly in Rodney's ear, arms wrapped tight around Rodney's chest, pinning his arms to his sides. "That what you need?"
"Let go of me," Rodney spat, every muscle straining against Ronon's hold on him.
Ronon laughed softly. "Not a chance, McKay." He tightened his grip. "Doesn't have to be any more than this," he said softly, evenly.
Rodney shuddered. "John--" His voice was pleading, but for once John had no idea what he was asking for.
He got up and went to stand in front of Rodney, meeting wide blue eyes. "Is this what you want, Rodney?" he asked quietly.
"You're telling me you do?" Rodney's voice was barely more than a whisper. He was falling, falling hard, and John didn't need to see the tented fabric of his pants to know that at least part of him wanted this.
Rodney in headspace for him was always a no-brainer. Add Ronon in, and John swallowed hard, because oh, fuck, did he want to see that. "Yeah," he said. "I do."
Rodney's breath caught in his throat. "John," he breathed, closing his eyes. "Oh, fuck, John."
Slowly, his body relaxed and he went limp in Ronon's arms, head falling forward. John took his wrists and gripped them both tight, thumbs pressing down. "Fall for me," he murmured. "Fall."
Rodney moaned, shuddering against Ronon. Ronon kept one arm around Rodney's chest, holding him tight, but the other hand tilted Rodney's chin up, bringing his head back for a kiss. John watched, entranced, as Ronon kissed Rodney. It was slow, and deliberate, and Rodney melted into it, his skin pale against Ronon's hand, his mouth soft and yielding under Ronon's. It was incredibly, amazingly hot, and John had never really considered himself much of a voyeur but he was hard as steel just from this alone.
Slowly, Ronon released Rodney's face, his hand sliding down to cup Rodney's throat briefly, thumb pressing over his carotid. Rodney gasped and John filed that away for later; they hadn't tried breathplay before but from the way Rodney was responding--well. Yeah. Um.
Ronon's hand slid down, and down, cupping the bulge between Rodney's legs and squeezing, making Rodney groan and thrust up into it. "Not yet," Ronon murmured with a low chuckle. He left his hand where it was, though, and looked at John. "You gonna let me fuck him?"
Interesting way to put it, and a nice way of acknowledging the power dynamics. John nodded, mouth dry. "There are blankets," he said, moving to get them. "If we--"
Ronon nodded and between the two of them they spread out their jackets and the blankets, creating a makeshift pallet on the floor of the jumper. It'd do, John thought, and looked at Rodney, who had slid down to sit on the floor, arms draped over his knees. John knelt on the blankets and held out a hand. "C'mere," he said, and Rodney moved over to him, pressing against him for a kiss. "What's your safeword?" he murmured against Rodney's mouth, because this was new, and sometimes Rodney didn't always respond so well to new--although given his reactions tonight John was wondering if they should do this more often.
Rodney smiled a little. "Atlantis," he said quietly.
"You're okay?" John asked, stroking Rodney's face.
"Yes." Rodney leaned into the touch.
John kissed him again, deeply, tongue stroking into Rodney's mouth as if he could taste Ronon there. Rodney groaned low in his throat and pressed closer against him, yielding to John the way he'd yielded to Ronon, and God that was hot.
Ronon knelt behind Rodney, his hands on Rodney's upper arms; when John pulled back, Ronon bent down and kissed Rodney, releasing him only when both of them were breathing hard. Ronon gave him a little push and Rodney fell against John and into John's kiss, moaning. So that was how he wanted it, John thought with a mental smile, and kissed Rodney breathless before biting his lower lip and pressing him back against Ronon for Ronon's kiss.
They traded him back and forth, kissing him senseless, working their way down his throat to hear him gasp and whimper between them. John bit down just over his collarbone and felt him shudder, twisting against Ronon's hands. Ronon grinned and looked up. "He likes that, huh?"
John grinned back. "If I didn't have to worry about other people seeing marks on him..."
Ronon laughed. "C'mon. Let's get rid of the clothes."
Rodney squirmed between them as they undressed him, restless against John and twisting back to kiss Ronon, who grinned and caught his hands to hold him still so John could pull off his boots and his pants. "Nice," Ronon said in appreciation, eyes running over Rodney's body. He leaned down and kissed Rodney's shoulder, the nape of his neck. Rodney flushed a little, but he twisted and kissed the corner of Ronon's mouth.
Ronon shifted, sitting back on his heels and pulling Rodney into his lap so Rodney was straddling him. John moved to press against Rodney's back, taking some of his weight and coaxing Rodney to lean back to let Ronon play with his throat and his chest. Rodney groaned and tried to squirm away, but between John's hands on his hips and Ronon holding his wrists, he wasn't going anywhere. He subsided with a low whimper, head tossing against John's shoulder.
"Always did want to see if he was sensitive here," Ronon admitted with a grin, licking one of Rodney's nipples. He blew gently and the little nub hardened; Rodney gasped and writhed between them, hands flexing in Ronon's hold. John just grinned back and let Ronon play, watching Rodney moan and twist against him, struggling against it, his head back and his arms pulling against Ronon's grip. He was beyond speech by this point, John knew, the soft moans and gasps the only sounds he could make.
Pushing Rodney past the ability to talk was something John never took for granted and always loved. And from the smile on Ronon's face when he raised his head, he felt much the same.
"You know," John said matter-of-factly, "for this to work we need to lose the clothes too."
Ronon grinned. "Yeah." He kissed Rodney, hard, swallowing his moan. "You first."
So that was how he wanted to play it. John shrugged and eased out from behind Rodney, letting Ronon support him so John could get undressed. He didn't bother with finesse, he just yanked off his clothes and boots, sitting back on the blankets and leaning back on his hands. "Your turn," he said easily.
Ronon gave him a slow once-over and an equally slow smile. "Nice," he said again.
"Thanks." John grinned and pulled Rodney against him, snuggling him into his side. Rodney leaned up for a kiss, his cock hard where it pressed into John's hip. His face was pleading, eager, and John kissed him again, fingers stroking his hair. "Soon," he murmured. "I promise. Trust me, okay?"
Rodney whimpered, but nodded.
Okay. Ronon's clothes had gone somewhere else and maybe Rodney was their connection now, but in future, maybe that would change, if they did this again, and John really hoped they did this again, because--oh, fuck, nice didn't even come close to covering it but it was all he could say. "Nice," he said thickly, swallowing around a dry mouth.
Ronon grinned and knelt back down on the blankets, shaking back his dreads. "Thanks." He skimmed a finger down Rodney's face and his shoulder, smiling faintly at the way Rodney looked at him pleadingly and leaned into it. "You got anything?"
"Yeah." John grabbed his vest and fumbled a pocket open, taking out the small tube he kept in there. Just in case, even though it was dangerous, because you never knew when you'd get stuck having a threesome in a jumper grounded by a blizzard. "If we..." He suited actions to thought, stretching out on the blankets and propping himself up on his elbows. "Rodney, c'mere," he said softly. "Over me."
Rodney crawled over him, leaning down for a kiss, whimpering softly into John's mouth. "Shh," John whispered, stroking Rodney's hair. "Easy."
Ronon knelt behind him, smoothing a hand down his back and over his ass. "Damn," he said in appreciation. "Now that's just gorgeous."
"Mm-hmm." At Rodney's blush, John soothed him, petting him and kissing him until he settled. "Easy," John murmured. "It's okay, Rodney. Relax."
John watched Ronon open the lube and slick his fingers. He didn't expect Ronon to be patient, but he was surprised to be wrong; Ronon teased Rodney's hole with a finger, pressing and circling until Rodney groaned and Ronon's finger slid in easily. And oh, hell, it was fucking hot to see Rodney on hands and knees over him with Ronon's finger in his ass, stretching him open, Rodney's head hanging down and sweat on his forehead as he fought to relax, to accept Ronon's fingers inside him.
He would. John knew he would. But he watched carefully as one finger became two, as Rodney shuddered and the look in his eyes became wild and hungry. His breath was ragged, quick in his throat, soft little moans escaping him every time he exhaled. He was close to breaking, on the edge of falling apart; John kissed him and tasted his desperation and swallowed his gasp as Ronon's fingers brushed his prostate.
"J-John," Rodney managed, trembling. "John, please--"
The tips of Ronon's dreads brushed Rodney's back as he leaned down to kiss Rodney's spine. "You ready?" he asked.
Rodney nodded jerkily and took a deep breath, hands clenching in the blankets. Ronon's hands settled on his hips and he pushed in smooth and sure and Rodney groaned, deep in his chest, head flying back. John held his arms, giving him something to ground to, to focus on as he struggled to breathe.
They all felt it, the moment where Rodney just gave, when his body followed his mind and surrendered utterly. Ronon groaned, his hands tightening on Rodney's hips as he began to move, long hard thrusts that rocked Rodney forward against John, their mouths barely meeting every time Ronon drove into Rodney.
John lay back and reached down, wrapping his hands around his and Rodney's cocks, jerking them off as best he could in rhythm with Ronon's thrusts. Rodney cried out harshly, a gasp of sound, and Ronon angled his hips a little differently, just a little, and Rodney cried out again, pleading wordlessly. John tightened his grip, twisting his hand the way he knew Rodney liked; he rubbed his thumb over the head and Ronon kept fucking him at that angle and Rodney was trembling now, whining.
Almost, almost; John was so close, but Rodney wasn't there yet, not-- "Please," Rodney gasped out, the word taking everything he had. "Oh, God, please--"
Yes. John kissed him, hard, biting his lip, and he twisted his hand and whispered "Come for me" against Rodney's mouth and Rodney keened, long and low, coming all over John's hands. And just like always, the sight and sound of Rodney coming was enough to tip John over the edge and he groaned, thrusting up against Rodney's body and spilling between them both.
Ronon groaned something incoherent, driving into Rodney harder and faster, shoving him against John, short battering thrusts that had Rodney moaning, even as he half-collapsed against John. His weight was heavy but John didn't mind, not yet, because he could focus on it as he settled back into himself.
"Fuck," Ronon groaned, long and drawn out, and he came with one last violent thrust, panting for air. He stayed where he was for a moment or ten; John had no idea how long it was and didn't much care, before he eased out carefully and stretched out on the blankets. "Damn," he said, looking at the ceiling of the jumper. "That...damn."
John grinned and carefully settled Rodney on his side, next to him. Rodney burrowed in close, nuzzling John's neck, and John held him and petted him, letting him find headspace in his own time. Sometimes he thought this was his favorite part of it all, when Rodney snuggled in his arms and purred against his skin, loose and relaxed in a way only John--well, usually--saw.
Ronon rolled onto his side and curled in behind Rodney, who sighed and stretched. "Mmm," he said finally, his voice husky.
"You okay?" John asked.
Rodney nodded. "Mm-hmm."
He wasn't up yet, but he was getting there. John was a little worried about how he'd react to Ronon once he was back in normal headspace, except he couldn't do anything until it happened. So he stroked Rodney's back and kissed his hair and let him come back.
Ronon kissed Rodney's neck gently. "Thank you," he said quietly.
"Mmm." Rodney stretched. "I'd tell you not to get used to it except that I think we'd all rather like it if you did."
Okay. So much for John needing to worry. He laughed, exchanging grins with Ronon, and kissed Rodney full on the mouth. "It's still snowing," he said, listening to the hiss in the wind.
"Good. It'll give us a chance to clean up before we have to get back to Atlantis, and I don't particularly feel like moving just yet." Rodney's voice was softer than his words, languid and full of satiation. "If that's all right with you two?"
John raised a questioning eyebrow at Ronon, who yawned and settled in behind Rodney. "It's fine," he said, getting more comfortable. "Get some sleep."
"Mm-hmm." Rodney was already drifting off, Ronon seemed to be out like a light, and with a final glance at the snow John closed his eyes and settled against Rodney.
He hoped it didn't stop snowing for a while yet.