Fic: Take Care of Your Feet
Title: Take Care of Your Feet
Fandom: SGA
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Word Count: 6 K
Rating: NC-17
Summary: When Rodney outs himself to Carson, the buddy sex has to stop. Guest appearances by the Fourier transform and Vaseline.
Note: Written on the prompt "tired, bootlaces, blow job" from 30toseoul in thanks for services to the public good, and because I owed libitina porn. It's less than 1/3 porn. Sorry.
Thanks to mandragora1 for test driving the .9 version, and to tessarae and whitecrow1 for test driving the 1.0 version. Thanks to them you may like 1.1 better.
Take Care of Your Feet
"You don't hear me complaining," Sheppard said as he hung up his gear. His muscles protested, though. They were tired. His feet were tired. His ears were tired of McKay's whining.
"Yes, well, Colonel." McKay grunted as he pulled off a boot. "You've obviously destroyed all the nerve endings in your feet from all that marching you had to do in basic training."
Laura Cadman's voice could be heard laughing from the other side of the gear room. "Rodney, they don't call it the Chair Force for nothing."
"Hey, that's your commanding officer you're talking about," said Sheppard, but he wasn't offended. He'd heard it all from the Marines, both to his face and behind his back. Eventually they figured out that they couldn't bother him by slamming the Air Force, and when stories circulated about why he'd been stuck in Antarctica, it settled to good-natured ribbing.
"All I'm saying is why did they send us through on the one-way trip with well-constructed hiking boots, only to use their new capability to re-supply us by replacing them with these evil black hunks of leather and pain? Couldn't they use that cargo space for something more important?"
"Like chocolate?" Cadman asked.
McKay looked pained, and muttered, "Why was she on this mission?" Louder he answered, "Like research equipment, computer upgrades. Anything beyond the blister-inducing boots of doom."
Sheppard had nothing to say about the boots. He didn't like them either. He said to McKay, "She was there to blow stuff up. Stuff between you and that power source."
"Which we still haven't found. Remind me of why we came back."
"We weren't prepared to bivouac. We'll go back tomorrow."
McKay tugged off the other boot with a grimace. "Not with these blisters. Bivouac? Do you really say that?"
Cadman came around the corner, pulling her hair out of field confinement. "You didn't grease your feet, did you McKay?"
"Huh?"
"Vaseline. You coat your feet with it before you put on your socks. It keeps you from getting blisters and trench foot."
"Trench foot?"
"Serious problem in World War One," Sheppard said. "Of course, they used whale oil back then. Stand around in wet feet in the trenches all day, you get problems."
"Serious infections, gangrene," added Cadman.
"Amputations," Sheppard said. "Can't be too careful."
"Oh, no," McKay started, and Sheppard and Cadman shared a look of amusement as they watched McKay ramp up into full ranting hypochondria. He ripped off his socks and ran toward the corridor, still in his tac vest, yelling that he needed Vaseline.
***
"That was not funny," McKay said as he burst through Sheppard's door without knocking.
"What?"
"Trench foot."
"It was a serious problem. People lost legs."
"Yes, well it hasn't been a serious problem in over eighty years. I go looking for Vaseline, and Carson gives me a lecture on how petroleum products weaken latex and didn't I know about water soluble lubricants?"
Sheppard stared. "You're kidding."
"Oh, that I were."
"What did you say?"
"The first thing that came to my head."
"Which was?"
"I think it was, and I shudder to quote myself here, 'No, no, not for that. We haven't gotten past blow jobs.' Which is a phenomenally stupid thing to have said, but I wasn't exactly expecting a sex lecture when I came in trying to protect my feet, now was I?"
Sheppard wanted McKay to keep talking. As long as he was talking there would be no need to think, but McKay seemed to be waiting. He looked defensive, and Sheppard read an unspoken Yes, I fucked up and we both have to deal with it.
"Did you say with who?"
"With whom, and no I didn't. I only managed to out myself."
Sheppard felt guilty for the relief that flooded through him, but he said, "I'm sorry."
"I'm not."
Something in McKay's voice made Sheppard realize he might have misread him, but he wasn't sure what the new reading might be. "You're not?"
"No, and you can't even get the interrogative pronoun right."
"Relative pronoun. In this case."
"How do you know that?"
"Could have been Mensa."
"Stop saying that."
"It's true."
McKay made a grunting noise. "Well, in the interests of protecting your military hide, and now that I've aroused Carson's curiosity…"
"The buddy sex is over?" Sheppard asked.
"Yes, well." McKay did that annoying snap-pop thing with his hands. "It was, it was, uh - "
It was all the answer Sheppard needed. He didn't like it, but it was probably the right answer. "It's all right, Rodney. You're not breaking up with a girl."
"Right. Same old, same old?" The expression did not roll easily off McKay's tongue.
"Yep. See you tomorrow."
"Right," McKay said, and turned to the door. He paused before opening it.
"Something else?" Sheppard asked.
"No, no. No, just... It was fun."
"Yep."
"Just fun."
McKay was looking for something, but Sheppard wasn't sure what. It was over, and it was McKay's call. "Sure. What's a few blow jobs between friends?"
McKay nodded without looking at him. "Right. Right. Good night, Colonel." And he left.
Well, that sucked, thought Sheppard. Or rather, it wouldn't any more. He shrugged and told himself, Easy come, easy go. Nice while it lasted. I mean, who turns down blow jobs? He pretty much believed it.
***
"Well, if Lt. Boom-Boom over there hadn't collapsed the cave - "
McKay's voice filled the gate room as they came through the event horizon. Sheppard looked down from the balcony, watching an argument that looked like it started long before the team had dialed Atlantis. From the body language of the Marines, they just wanted to get away from the constant drone of a pissed off McKay. Sheppard ran down the stairs, sending the soldiers off for their routine medical check with a nod of his head toward the door.
"I'm an explosives expert, McKay, not a demolitions specialist. I can't imagine how you think I'm supposed to know how the structural features rock and soil on an alien planet - "
"Which is why we brought a geologist, who obviously has rocks in the brain."
"We don't have any specialists in large formations. At least not alive," said Dr. Bennet, her French accent making the last two words ring loud despite her soft voice.
That stopped the entire conversation. Bennet looked at the floor, fiddling with the strings of her pack and continued, "We requested one be recruited, to replace Dr. Semules, but the priorities of Stargate Command are not with alien rocks. I'm sorry I was not of more help on this trip." She turned to follow the Marines.
"So," said Sheppard, walking toward them, "PQ1-714 was not an unqualified success?"
"Not," agreed McKay. "In fact, utter disaster. Lt. Boom-Boom here - "
"Stop calling me that, Dr. Can't run a quarter mile."
"Yes, well I prefer to develop brains instead of brawn."
"You're glad of that brawn when it's Wraith."
"I can hold my own in the field, Boom-boom."
"No name calling, boys and girls," Sheppard said.
"She's a mad woman with blasting caps!"
"Rodney, stop it! Not another word out of both of you until after Beckett's team checks you out. I'll look for your reports in the morning. You've been camping for three days. Get checked over, then get a shower and some rest."
McKay and Cadman turned away with a final glare. McKay walked like his feet hurt.
Commanding officers did not sigh and rub their eyes, so Sheppard didn't.
***
Sheppard walked into the lab. "So what do you have for me?"
"We've been analyzing the power readings from PQ1-714," McKay began.
"It became clear we were not looking at anything we had seen before," Zelenka finished. "It appears there are oscillations we initially thought were random in nature - '
"But we did a simple Fourier transform - "
"Which told us that there were clusters of frequencies, so we decided we needed to filter the signal first with a boxcar - "
"That was obvious, though, and when we looked just at the low frequencies - "
"And at the high frequencies - "
"Cut to the chase, please," Sheppard interrupted. "What have you found?"
McKay glared at Zelenka, who raised his eyebrows and shrugged, appearing to resign the verbal field. He stepped back and let McKay point at the computer screen. "Two processes, very different, interfering with each other, at least as far as we can tell. The apparent randomness was that they're on very different cycles, but they're very long cycles and thus the signals interact with each other but never in the same phase, so the repetitions aren't easy to spot - "
Zelenka could not hold back. "Unless the signals can become separated, which we have done."
"That's very nice, but is there a punch line here?" Sheppard asked.
"Not one power source," said McKay, looking at Zelenka.
"Two."
"Two."
They each held up two fingers, smiling, and for a moment Sheppard had an image of peace activists from his childhood and his father's voice calling them goddamned, hippy faggots. That word reminded him of Rodney, and he had an image of the top of his head, moving in rhythm. He shook off the thought. "ZPM?"
"We don't know."
"Worth going back?"
"Definitely," said Zelenka.
"And with the surprise arrival on the Daedelus of the rock guy's replacement - " McKay began.
"Your sensitivity is legend," Zelenka muttered. Sheppard agreed.
"I'm sorry about Samules - " McKay started.
"Semules."
McKay closed his mouth, took a breath, and began again. "A large-formation geologist has arrived. We can get the lovely Lieutenant with the explosives fetish, and some grunts with shovels."
"Don't call them grunts, McKay, or I'll let them call you Egghead."
The glare he got held more venom than he'd usually get from McKay with such a comment. Sheppard expected a smart remark about his behavioral age, but all he got was the look, then McKay said, "Marines with entrenching tools would be useful, Colonel."
If the look was venom, the words were cold. Sheppard didn't like it, but he was trying to hold up his end of same old, same old. If McKay didn't straighten out and stop the level of tension that anyone in twenty meters could feel, they'd have to talk, and that was the last thing Sheppard wanted. "Well, let's run it by Dr. Weir," he said.
***
"Did you grease your feet, Dr. McKay?" Cadman grinned.
McKay didn't even acknowledge the question. This was bad, but it backed up the rumors Sheppard had been hearing about the new reign of terror in the labs.
"Load up, boys and girls," Sheppard said, leading the way into the jumper. Ronon, Teyla and McKay took their usual seats. The new geologist, O'Laughlin, sat in the back with Cadman and three Marines, looking like she only needed the uniform to be one of them. The marines, Sgt. Rodrigues and his crew, had to be offered extra time off to take the mission. They would have come as ordered, but this way they would feel compensated for dealing with McKay. Word of his current behavior had moved beyond the labs.
They made a routine jump, and Sheppard flew the puddle jumper to the site instead of parking and hoofing it.
"Why is that?" McKay asked. "We had to walk, but the gr- guys that are used to marching get a lift?"
"All part of our friendly service," Sheppard answered. "Besides, you want them nice and rested up for shovel duty, don't you. I can't tell you how thrilled they are about that." Sheppard looked at McKay and raised an eyebrow. "Be nice."
"I'm always nice," McKay said. "I'm Canadian. It's in the genes."
Sheppard smiled. He'd missed having McKay's sarcasm be more funny than cutting. But he said under his breath, "I'm serious. Whatever problem you have with me, stop spreading it around."
"I don't have a problem with you."
McKay was such a lousy liar.
***
"You're sure about this?"
Cadman and Dr. O'Laughlin looked up at McKay, and O'Laughlin pinned him with a look Sheppard thought had been perfected on graduate students. Coupled with the Irish lilt, she reminded him of the woman in that John Wayne movie, tough and not to be trifled with. "No, doctor, we are entirely unsure, so if you'd be so good as to back off, you won't get caught in the blast if we've grossly miscalculated as badly as I think we may have."
McKay started to sputter, but then it seemed he recognized one of his own. "Please, ladies, be my guest."
The blast, when it came, was not large, and was followed by two more in rapid succession. "That should do it," O'Laughlin said, brushing the dust from her hair.
The Marines came forward with shovels, and McKay directed them, dividing up the area before bending down and digging with them. Sheppard joined in, too. It was less than an hour before Cadman shouted, "I've found something!" at the same time Rodrigues said, "Here, sir!"
They cleared the area around a large door. The writing looked like an offshoot of Ancient.
"Why was this buried in rock?" Sheppard asked.
"There was an artificial cave sealed with artificial rock," O'Laughlin said. "We took samples from Dr. Bennet's trip, and she's analyzed them. They're not a natural formation. Something hid this place on purpose."
"And now we're just going to waltz in?" Sheppard asked, looking at McKay.
"Two power sources, and no life signs," he said without looking up from his instruments, as if that were all the reason in the world.
***
Teyla looked around the room, which was bare but for two consoles and polished walls made from the artificial rock. She held her weapon at the ready. "Colonel Sheppard, I believe the Ancestors did not want this place found."
McKay answered, "Well that would explain the whole bury in an artificial cave system thing, wouldn't it?"
"What's your instinct?" Sheppard asked Teyla.
"Dr. O'Laughlin says the artificial formations are older than the departure of the Ancients, and older perhaps than the Wraith."
"So it's been down here a long time."
"And still running," McKay said, ducking under a console.
"But what does it do, and what powers it?" Sheppard asked.
"Well, it's not a ZPM. Looks like geothermal." McKay sounded disappointed.
"Anything here that can help us?"
"Near as I can tell, these two consoles control something."
"That's helpful," Sheppard said. "How strange a console might control... something."
"Ha, ha. Maybe we can turn them off and bring them back to Atlantis for further analysis."
"What, you don't think they control something on this planet?"
"Power conduits coming in, but no output."
"There was enough energy output that you read it through solid rock."
"Yes," McKay said, getting up and dusting his pants. "That is puzzling. See if you can turn this one off. I haven't been able to."
"You could unplug it."
"Yes, and if it's a database or something like that, that might wipe the memory. Look, there's an interface point here." He pointed at a truncated conical structure. "Put your hands around that and think, Shut down"
Sheppard put his right hand on one side, but it didn't respond. He reached with his left, and as soon as the palm made contact, liquid oozed from the sides of cone. Wherever it touched his skin, his hands felt seared.
Ronon ran in at Sheppard's cry of surprise and pain. Teyla ran forward and pulled his hands off the device.
"You owe me for this, McKay," Sheppard said through gritted teeth, looking at his hands. They hurt, and they were blistered. The right one had full contact with the device, but he had touched only the palm of his left hand when the venom started flowing.
Expressions moved quickly across McKay's face, from surprise to dismay, settling into a hollowed-out grimness. "I asked you to try to turn it off, not trigger the self-defense mechanism," McKay said, eyes returning to his computer.
"Rodney!" Teyla looked appalled.
The apparent disinterest fueled Sheppard's anger. "You used to be more cautious than this!"
McKay put down his stylus on his tablet PC and straightened his shoulders. "I'm sorry you were injured, Colonel." He barely glanced at Sheppard before returning to his work. "That better? Shouldn't you be getting medical attention?"
"I can't fly the jumper like this."
"Ah. I hadn't thought of that," McKay said, but a smirk played around the corners of his mouth. "I can. Don't you military people do field medicine? Go get patched up and let me finish in here."
Sheppard felt the blood drain from his face, and if he could have made a fist with his hands, he'd have thrown a punch. He pushed down his anger and glanced at Ronon and Teyla. Their lack of expression told him they were as angry as he was, but following his lead. Ronon led him back to the jumper, calling to Rodrigues. He soon had the field medical kit open on the deck.
"We need to get the leftover dirt off, first, sir, and then I'll get antibiotic ointment on them."
"Corporal, what's standard practice when encountering chemical warfare agents?" Sheppard asked, grimacing at the pain of the water sluicing over his hands.
"Evacuate the area and confer with base for instructions."
"And if someone is affected by CWAs?"
Rodrigues glanced up before squeezing analgesic cream on to Sheppard's palms. "Return to base if possible for medical attention."
"And what weapons class do blistering agents come under?"
A grin split Rodrigues face. "CWA, sir."
"Tell Cadman to tell McKay to pack up. We're going back to the barn, and he's driving."
He sat on a bench in the back with his eyes closed as they loaded, pretending to be out of it. No one spoke to him except Rodney, who ranted for a full five minutes before taking the controls. Sheppard only answered once. "Standard protocol, McKay. Cadman is acting on standing orders from the Pentagon," he said, and then ignored the ring of McKay's protests.
***
Sheppard lay back on his bunk, his hands bandaged. His entire right hand was burned, but at least it was only the palm on the left hand. He could feed himself awkwardly, but only the promise that he'd come back in the morning had made Carson send him home. At least wearing sweats he could take a leak on his own.
The knock on his door hardly surprised him.
"Come in," Sheppard said, slitting his eyes open.
McKay walked through the door, turned back, and then changed his angle ninety degrees and began to pace. "I'm, well, I'm sorry."
"That's nice. For what?"
"It occurs to me I may have been a little insensitive about your injuries."
Sheppard let his eyes close. "Occurs to you, or someone hit you with a clue-by-four."
He heard McKay snort. "It was pointed out to me, yes. Ronon glared, and Teyla was her usual diplomatic self."
"You've been a dick for over a week."
"I know. I'm sorry."
"Apology heard and accepted. End of story. Good night, Rodney."
"There's more."
"But wait," Sheppard said with false brightness, "there's more. Forget it. I don't need a Ginzu knife."
A small silence was broken by McKay's footsteps changing course. The bed shifted under his weight when he sat down.
"I'm sorry," McKay said again.
"Got that part."
"Not about your hands. Yes, I mean about that, but not just about that. I've been a dick, as you so colorfully put it, because I'm pissed off at my mistake. My slip, with Carson, about the, you know."
"Yeah, well, it was your slip, but I trust Carson. Even if he figured out who it was, do you think he'd say anything?"
McKay was quiet for a long moment. "No." McKay wasn't looking at him. His eyes were fixed on his boots as he said, "You're the one that would suffer most if, you know, we were - "
"Outed?"
McKay nodded. When Sheppard said nothing more, he stood and started toward the door. "I'm sorry."
Sheppard surprised himself. "I'm not."
McKay turned. "You're not?"
"I asked a question." Sheppard said.
"Wait. Which I took as a statement? You mean, we didn't have to stop?"
"You're the one that had problems with my pronoun use," Sheppard said, then cursed himself. They had stopped. Stopped. He shouldn't open the door again, but with McKay in front of him, and looking happy for the first time in a week, he was having trouble maintaining the distance.
"But I thought you - "
"It's all right. You want to?" Sheppard asked. The words were out before he could stop them.
"Do you? Really?" McKay said.
This violated protocol. The answer was supposed to be a nod, or yeah, or something simple, not another question. Why would McKay doubt? Sheppard opened his eyes at last and said, "What kind of question is that?"
"So we can - "
"Go back to what we were doing." Sheppard was afraid to look at him, not wanting to show anything more than casual interest.
"Oh, thank God. I've been a miserable bastard," McKay said. Then something changed in his voice, bringing in a formal tone that seemed out of place. "There's nothing like knowing where your next blow job is coming from to improve your mood."
That was what Sheppard told himself he wanted to hear, and he took it at face value. He raised his hands. "Of course, thanks to you, you're going to have to do all the work."
"Right. I do owe you for that."
McKay still had that formal tone. "So what is this? A pity fuck?"
McKay's head came up fast, dismay on his face. "What? No. No fucking. No pity."
"Good."
McKay walked back over to the bed, and got on his knees next to Sheppard's hips. It wasn't a graceful move, and there was little finesse in the way he pulled down the sweat pants. Sheppard felt his cock twitch against his thigh in reaction to the cool air followed by Rodney's breath.
"I missed - " McKay began, but he cut himself off before he could say something like you or this. Instead he asked, "I've been a dick?"
"Jerk. Asshole. Dick. Yeah."
"Sorry. You didn't break up with a girl, you know."
Sheppard had to look at him. "No, I didn't. Not a girl. Not a breakup." He felt a little stupid with his pants down.
McKay shrugged, and Sheppard watched him slot whatever it was he thought they were into some mental pigeonhole. McKay nodded, and turned his attention to the bare flesh in front of him.
He reached for John's cock, which was lengthening, but soft, and sucked it into his mouth. John felt suddenly light headed as Rodney's mouth worked him in ways that couldn't be done with a hard on, sliding his tongue around and sucking in a way that almost hurt. Rodney sucked John's brains down to his crotch, leaving him no choice but to lie back and moan. He heard stupid noises coming out of his mouth. Much more of this and he would start howling like a porn star. He had barely gotten all the way hard when he felt it start, and the orgasm was sharp and fast, but he felt like he'd flooded Rodney's mouth, poured down his throat.
He hadn't come that fast since he was thirteen.
"Jesus."
"Nope, just me."
"Can I return the favor?"
"In a minute." McKay sat on the bed and leaned over to take off his boots. Sheppard looked over. They were the combat boots. If he hadn't changed since they came back from the planet, McKay had been wearing them for hours. "Ugh," he grunted as the first one came off, and then the other. He peeled off his socks and picked up his right foot to look at it. "No blisters this time."
"See, we told you." Sheppard shook his head slightly, trying to put together the mix of afterglow and McKay looking at his feet until he realized that this was just a step on the way to McKay getting his clothes off.
He shucked his BDUs and pulled off the shirt. "Make room." Sheppard moved over and McKay lay down. "God I'm tired."
"Figure out anything more about those devices?"
"Zelenka has some ideas. They're probably wrong, of course, but I'll tell him that in the morning."
Sheppard sat up and looked down McKay's body. His cock lay across his balls, and nothing said he was looking for sex, but here he was naked in the bed. "Rodney?"
"Yes."
"Um, what do you want?"
"A blow job and twelve hours of sleep."
"I think you want the sleep more. You're not even hard."
"Do something about that, why don't you?" He waved a hand vaguely, as if ordering a lab assistant.
John had to laugh. He slid down the bed, bringing his head even with Rodney's groin, and tried to return the favor. He'd never had the chance to suck a dick that wasn't hard yet, and he found himself wishing it would stay that way. There was so much more he could do with it. But those things made Rodney hard, and John's mouth alone couldn’t handle it. He reached for Rodney's hand and brought it to his mouth, licking the palm and the fingers to get them wet.
Rodney understood, reaching for his own cock and jacking himself while John sucked. John's lips followed Rodney's fist, and his mouth left him as slick as possible.
"Tongue," Rodney said, and John left the serious work to Rodney's hand, concentrating on the head of his cock and swirling his tongue around the shaft, up and over, then leaning in to suck again.
Rodney made it last, but didn't stretch it out long enough to hurt John's mouth. When John started to get tired he flattened his tongue and thrust down across the exposed head in time with Rodney's hand. "Oh. Oh yeah," Rodney said, and John backed off to watch him come, semen shooting up and landing on Rodney's sternum, then striping down his belly.
Sheppard got up to find a towel, then tossed it at McKay, who was almost asleep already, but wiped at himself and rolled over, showing no signs of leaving. Sheppard took another painkiller and lay down in the little space left to him. He didn't think he'd fall asleep.
***
He woke up to find McKay tying his wrist to the bed with a bootlace. The other one was already secure.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Experiment." McKay said, finishing the knot. "Where's the Vaseline?"
"What?" Sheppard felt panicked.
"Or whatever you use on your feet. Where is it?"
"What are you trying to do?"
"An experiment," he repeated. "You're the subject. I wasn't sure you'd cooperate."
"I'm not a lab rat, Rodney."
"No, but I'm a scientist. I have a hypothesis I want to test. Where's the Vaseline."
"Find it yourself." He was pissed.
"Look," McKay said, rummaging through the drawers. He was naked, and soft light played over his back and his ass. "If you don't like it, I'll stop. It's just that Carson got me thinking about something."
"Carson?"
"Yeah, so I did some reading when we were, you know, broken up."
"We didn't break up."
McKay looked over his shoulder. "Fine, whatever. Having a break in the buddy sex." He turned all the way around, the Vaseline in his hand, and his certainty failing. "Let me try this."
"Why'd you tie me up?" Sheppard pulled at the bootlaces. He could break them if he wanted, he was pretty sure.
"Well that's in part a fantasy and in part to keep you from doing anything that will hurt your hands." McKay walked closer to him. "Either one alone, maybe not, but both tipped the balance. It was a combinatorial effect."
"That's twisted logic."
"Just, please, trust me, okay?" McKay seemed afraid, almost, like they were on a mission and he was going to have to fire his gun. "I will stop and untie you the minute you ask me to. Just please, trust me."
Sheppard didn't let himself take the easy shot. The looked at each other for a long moment. This was some twisted Rodney way of apologizing for messing up with Carson. If he said no, Rodney would leave, and only part of him would ever come back, if he came back at all. John heard himself thinking that he didn't want less of Rodney than he had, and the thought did not sit well.
This was his out, and he didn't take it. "Okay."
Rodney knelt next to him. "Lie back and relax." He pulled off John's sweatpants and tossed them aside, then placed a hand on his stomach, broad and warm.
"What are you going to do?"
"If I do this right, blow your mind."
"Just plain blowing would be fine. Can I inform you that prostate exams are not my idea of a good time?"
"If I do this right, it won't remind you of anything medical."
"You keep saying if. I thought you could make anything work." Sheppard knew he was trying to tell himself to relax.
Rodney ignored the razzing. "This one requires cooperation."
Sheppard pulled at the boot laces. "I think you forced that issue."
"Yes, well." McKay looked like he was about to take on a difficult repair. "Relax."
He leaned in and took Sheppard's cock in his mouth. John was slow to get hard, with the idea of what they were about to do in the back of his thoughts, but Rodney was taking his time and didn't seem to mind. The swirl of tongue, the suction, and the hand pulling on his balls in almost exactly the right way finally converged to the point where he was bucking, trying for more of Rodney's mouth.
Rodney slowed down, moved down, sucking each testicle into his mouth and rubbing the space behind while he slowly jacked John's dick, keeping him close to the edge. He backed off, reaching under John's legs, bending the knees, and meeting no resistance. At the familiar sound of the Vaseline lid, John tensed.
"Shh. Shh," Rodney whispered, even though John had said nothing.
Rodney leaned his head against John's thigh, working his cock with one hand and reaching around for the balls. John felt him pull, then rub a grease-slick finger behind. It had felt good before, but with the slide of the Vaseline, all discomfort from pulled hair or too-hard friction was gone. Rodney's fingers pushed harder, and it felt better than it should have.
The sensation was gone, and then back again. John realized Rodney had dipped down for more Vaseline. Rodney's fingers stroked down, from his balls all the way to his ass, then beyond and back again. There was no pause at the entrance, just a swipe across on the way somewhere else, then again on the way back. Rodney was being careful, but John tensed at the sensation.
The feelings moved between hot and turn off in the space of microseconds. From the feel of Rodney's hand jacking his dick, John could tell he was losing some of his hard.
"Shh," Rodney said again. He seemed to decide it was time, so he added a circling motion on each stroke, then stopped and shifted his position so that he could use his mouth. It almost distracted John from the finger that pushed, but did not penetrate.
In part of his mind, Sheppard realized that McKay had a plan, a scientific protocol to approach the situation, and when it came down to it, he trusted him. He lay back, relaxed, and just let it happen, willing himself to relax when one of Rodney's blunt fingers breached him, in, then out again, slow and circling.
He felt Rodney's mouth let him go, felt his dick flop soft against his belly. Erections and fingers in his ass were not, in his mind, natural companions. Rodney leaned his head against John's thigh, dipped for more Vaseline, then slid one finger all the way in.
It took all of John's self-control not to buck off the bed, to pull back his hips, or do anything to get it out. Rodney followed all of John's half-started motions, and when they finally stilled, he waited unmoving for several moments until John felt himself relaxing around the finger. Eventually Rodney took John's dick in his mouth again, and repeated the incredible motions with his tongue. John surprised himself by getting hard, by getting into it, and he had forgotten entirely about where Rodney's other hand was until it moved.
It was the smallest of motions, and all internal. John felt pleasure that was deep, like he had nerve endings beyond his balls and the base of his dick. It was wrong and it was inside and it was good. Medical fingers probed, looked for size and edges, and it was always a bit intense but never pleasant. Rodney's movements were small at first, then more bold as he read John's responses. The finger tip circled and rubbed and pushed, and John's orgasm rose swift and hard, short but intense, the sensation of ejaculating layered on top of something internal that wired his legs into the equation.
When it was over and the aftershocks slowed, Rodney gently sucked the last drops, and let John's dick fall slowly from his mouth. His hand pulled back a bit at the same time, and John hissed at the intensity of the combination. Rodney stopped. "I'm going to, you know." He pulled his hand back a bit more, and John said, "Okay," hissing again as the finger left him.
"You okay?" Rodney asked, looking at him with concern.
John looked up and away, toward the head of the bed. "If you untie me. I don't think your lab rat is going anywhere after that."
"Oh. Oh, right." McKay stood and undid the knots too quickly for them to have been at all serious.
"So, was that okay?" McKay sounded worried.
Sheppard laughed. "That's a word for it." He held up his hands. "Thanks, buddy, but I don't think I'll be returning the favor any time soon."
McKay sat down next to him, and when Sheppard looked, his face lacked expression, other than the small line between the eyebrows that indicated he was thinking. McKay took the towel and gently wiped off the Vaseline. "No, of course not. Terribly unhygienic around those blisters, and in fact, I'll just go, you know, wash up."
Sheppard heard the water in the bathroom, and was dozing before McKay returned. He heard the sound of cloth, then felt the weight of McKay sitting on the bed, shaking the mattress with the motions of re-lacing his boots and putting them on. The motion kept him awake, or he would have missed McKay's voice when he rose to leave.
"That was an N of one. For it to be science, I have to repeat the experiment and verify the results. One time it's chance. Twice it's coincidence. Third time it's science."
"You start feeding me rat chow," Sheppard mumbled, "and I will break up with you."
"Not rats. Mice. Like Pinky and the Brain."
"Don't start quoting that cartoon at me. Besides, the Brain was a lab animal, too."
"Remember," McKay laughed, low and full of promise, but not entirely convincing, "experimentation is sort of the idea here. Buddy."
The door swished, open, then closed, and John was alone.
He realized what he'd said, and what he meant, and what he hoped Rodney - no, McKay - hadn't heard.
Yeah, right, it was buddy sex. Who turns down blow jobs? Uh, huh.
That was all just so much grease.
Fin
Fandom: SGA
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Word Count: 6 K
Rating: NC-17
Summary: When Rodney outs himself to Carson, the buddy sex has to stop. Guest appearances by the Fourier transform and Vaseline.
Note: Written on the prompt "tired, bootlaces, blow job" from 30toseoul in thanks for services to the public good, and because I owed libitina porn. It's less than 1/3 porn. Sorry.
Thanks to mandragora1 for test driving the .9 version, and to tessarae and whitecrow1 for test driving the 1.0 version. Thanks to them you may like 1.1 better.
Take Care of Your Feet
"You don't hear me complaining," Sheppard said as he hung up his gear. His muscles protested, though. They were tired. His feet were tired. His ears were tired of McKay's whining.
"Yes, well, Colonel." McKay grunted as he pulled off a boot. "You've obviously destroyed all the nerve endings in your feet from all that marching you had to do in basic training."
Laura Cadman's voice could be heard laughing from the other side of the gear room. "Rodney, they don't call it the Chair Force for nothing."
"Hey, that's your commanding officer you're talking about," said Sheppard, but he wasn't offended. He'd heard it all from the Marines, both to his face and behind his back. Eventually they figured out that they couldn't bother him by slamming the Air Force, and when stories circulated about why he'd been stuck in Antarctica, it settled to good-natured ribbing.
"All I'm saying is why did they send us through on the one-way trip with well-constructed hiking boots, only to use their new capability to re-supply us by replacing them with these evil black hunks of leather and pain? Couldn't they use that cargo space for something more important?"
"Like chocolate?" Cadman asked.
McKay looked pained, and muttered, "Why was she on this mission?" Louder he answered, "Like research equipment, computer upgrades. Anything beyond the blister-inducing boots of doom."
Sheppard had nothing to say about the boots. He didn't like them either. He said to McKay, "She was there to blow stuff up. Stuff between you and that power source."
"Which we still haven't found. Remind me of why we came back."
"We weren't prepared to bivouac. We'll go back tomorrow."
McKay tugged off the other boot with a grimace. "Not with these blisters. Bivouac? Do you really say that?"
Cadman came around the corner, pulling her hair out of field confinement. "You didn't grease your feet, did you McKay?"
"Huh?"
"Vaseline. You coat your feet with it before you put on your socks. It keeps you from getting blisters and trench foot."
"Trench foot?"
"Serious problem in World War One," Sheppard said. "Of course, they used whale oil back then. Stand around in wet feet in the trenches all day, you get problems."
"Serious infections, gangrene," added Cadman.
"Amputations," Sheppard said. "Can't be too careful."
"Oh, no," McKay started, and Sheppard and Cadman shared a look of amusement as they watched McKay ramp up into full ranting hypochondria. He ripped off his socks and ran toward the corridor, still in his tac vest, yelling that he needed Vaseline.
***
"That was not funny," McKay said as he burst through Sheppard's door without knocking.
"What?"
"Trench foot."
"It was a serious problem. People lost legs."
"Yes, well it hasn't been a serious problem in over eighty years. I go looking for Vaseline, and Carson gives me a lecture on how petroleum products weaken latex and didn't I know about water soluble lubricants?"
Sheppard stared. "You're kidding."
"Oh, that I were."
"What did you say?"
"The first thing that came to my head."
"Which was?"
"I think it was, and I shudder to quote myself here, 'No, no, not for that. We haven't gotten past blow jobs.' Which is a phenomenally stupid thing to have said, but I wasn't exactly expecting a sex lecture when I came in trying to protect my feet, now was I?"
Sheppard wanted McKay to keep talking. As long as he was talking there would be no need to think, but McKay seemed to be waiting. He looked defensive, and Sheppard read an unspoken Yes, I fucked up and we both have to deal with it.
"Did you say with who?"
"With whom, and no I didn't. I only managed to out myself."
Sheppard felt guilty for the relief that flooded through him, but he said, "I'm sorry."
"I'm not."
Something in McKay's voice made Sheppard realize he might have misread him, but he wasn't sure what the new reading might be. "You're not?"
"No, and you can't even get the interrogative pronoun right."
"Relative pronoun. In this case."
"How do you know that?"
"Could have been Mensa."
"Stop saying that."
"It's true."
McKay made a grunting noise. "Well, in the interests of protecting your military hide, and now that I've aroused Carson's curiosity…"
"The buddy sex is over?" Sheppard asked.
"Yes, well." McKay did that annoying snap-pop thing with his hands. "It was, it was, uh - "
It was all the answer Sheppard needed. He didn't like it, but it was probably the right answer. "It's all right, Rodney. You're not breaking up with a girl."
"Right. Same old, same old?" The expression did not roll easily off McKay's tongue.
"Yep. See you tomorrow."
"Right," McKay said, and turned to the door. He paused before opening it.
"Something else?" Sheppard asked.
"No, no. No, just... It was fun."
"Yep."
"Just fun."
McKay was looking for something, but Sheppard wasn't sure what. It was over, and it was McKay's call. "Sure. What's a few blow jobs between friends?"
McKay nodded without looking at him. "Right. Right. Good night, Colonel." And he left.
Well, that sucked, thought Sheppard. Or rather, it wouldn't any more. He shrugged and told himself, Easy come, easy go. Nice while it lasted. I mean, who turns down blow jobs? He pretty much believed it.
***
"Well, if Lt. Boom-Boom over there hadn't collapsed the cave - "
McKay's voice filled the gate room as they came through the event horizon. Sheppard looked down from the balcony, watching an argument that looked like it started long before the team had dialed Atlantis. From the body language of the Marines, they just wanted to get away from the constant drone of a pissed off McKay. Sheppard ran down the stairs, sending the soldiers off for their routine medical check with a nod of his head toward the door.
"I'm an explosives expert, McKay, not a demolitions specialist. I can't imagine how you think I'm supposed to know how the structural features rock and soil on an alien planet - "
"Which is why we brought a geologist, who obviously has rocks in the brain."
"We don't have any specialists in large formations. At least not alive," said Dr. Bennet, her French accent making the last two words ring loud despite her soft voice.
That stopped the entire conversation. Bennet looked at the floor, fiddling with the strings of her pack and continued, "We requested one be recruited, to replace Dr. Semules, but the priorities of Stargate Command are not with alien rocks. I'm sorry I was not of more help on this trip." She turned to follow the Marines.
"So," said Sheppard, walking toward them, "PQ1-714 was not an unqualified success?"
"Not," agreed McKay. "In fact, utter disaster. Lt. Boom-Boom here - "
"Stop calling me that, Dr. Can't run a quarter mile."
"Yes, well I prefer to develop brains instead of brawn."
"You're glad of that brawn when it's Wraith."
"I can hold my own in the field, Boom-boom."
"No name calling, boys and girls," Sheppard said.
"She's a mad woman with blasting caps!"
"Rodney, stop it! Not another word out of both of you until after Beckett's team checks you out. I'll look for your reports in the morning. You've been camping for three days. Get checked over, then get a shower and some rest."
McKay and Cadman turned away with a final glare. McKay walked like his feet hurt.
Commanding officers did not sigh and rub their eyes, so Sheppard didn't.
***
Sheppard walked into the lab. "So what do you have for me?"
"We've been analyzing the power readings from PQ1-714," McKay began.
"It became clear we were not looking at anything we had seen before," Zelenka finished. "It appears there are oscillations we initially thought were random in nature - '
"But we did a simple Fourier transform - "
"Which told us that there were clusters of frequencies, so we decided we needed to filter the signal first with a boxcar - "
"That was obvious, though, and when we looked just at the low frequencies - "
"And at the high frequencies - "
"Cut to the chase, please," Sheppard interrupted. "What have you found?"
McKay glared at Zelenka, who raised his eyebrows and shrugged, appearing to resign the verbal field. He stepped back and let McKay point at the computer screen. "Two processes, very different, interfering with each other, at least as far as we can tell. The apparent randomness was that they're on very different cycles, but they're very long cycles and thus the signals interact with each other but never in the same phase, so the repetitions aren't easy to spot - "
Zelenka could not hold back. "Unless the signals can become separated, which we have done."
"That's very nice, but is there a punch line here?" Sheppard asked.
"Not one power source," said McKay, looking at Zelenka.
"Two."
"Two."
They each held up two fingers, smiling, and for a moment Sheppard had an image of peace activists from his childhood and his father's voice calling them goddamned, hippy faggots. That word reminded him of Rodney, and he had an image of the top of his head, moving in rhythm. He shook off the thought. "ZPM?"
"We don't know."
"Worth going back?"
"Definitely," said Zelenka.
"And with the surprise arrival on the Daedelus of the rock guy's replacement - " McKay began.
"Your sensitivity is legend," Zelenka muttered. Sheppard agreed.
"I'm sorry about Samules - " McKay started.
"Semules."
McKay closed his mouth, took a breath, and began again. "A large-formation geologist has arrived. We can get the lovely Lieutenant with the explosives fetish, and some grunts with shovels."
"Don't call them grunts, McKay, or I'll let them call you Egghead."
The glare he got held more venom than he'd usually get from McKay with such a comment. Sheppard expected a smart remark about his behavioral age, but all he got was the look, then McKay said, "Marines with entrenching tools would be useful, Colonel."
If the look was venom, the words were cold. Sheppard didn't like it, but he was trying to hold up his end of same old, same old. If McKay didn't straighten out and stop the level of tension that anyone in twenty meters could feel, they'd have to talk, and that was the last thing Sheppard wanted. "Well, let's run it by Dr. Weir," he said.
***
"Did you grease your feet, Dr. McKay?" Cadman grinned.
McKay didn't even acknowledge the question. This was bad, but it backed up the rumors Sheppard had been hearing about the new reign of terror in the labs.
"Load up, boys and girls," Sheppard said, leading the way into the jumper. Ronon, Teyla and McKay took their usual seats. The new geologist, O'Laughlin, sat in the back with Cadman and three Marines, looking like she only needed the uniform to be one of them. The marines, Sgt. Rodrigues and his crew, had to be offered extra time off to take the mission. They would have come as ordered, but this way they would feel compensated for dealing with McKay. Word of his current behavior had moved beyond the labs.
They made a routine jump, and Sheppard flew the puddle jumper to the site instead of parking and hoofing it.
"Why is that?" McKay asked. "We had to walk, but the gr- guys that are used to marching get a lift?"
"All part of our friendly service," Sheppard answered. "Besides, you want them nice and rested up for shovel duty, don't you. I can't tell you how thrilled they are about that." Sheppard looked at McKay and raised an eyebrow. "Be nice."
"I'm always nice," McKay said. "I'm Canadian. It's in the genes."
Sheppard smiled. He'd missed having McKay's sarcasm be more funny than cutting. But he said under his breath, "I'm serious. Whatever problem you have with me, stop spreading it around."
"I don't have a problem with you."
McKay was such a lousy liar.
***
"You're sure about this?"
Cadman and Dr. O'Laughlin looked up at McKay, and O'Laughlin pinned him with a look Sheppard thought had been perfected on graduate students. Coupled with the Irish lilt, she reminded him of the woman in that John Wayne movie, tough and not to be trifled with. "No, doctor, we are entirely unsure, so if you'd be so good as to back off, you won't get caught in the blast if we've grossly miscalculated as badly as I think we may have."
McKay started to sputter, but then it seemed he recognized one of his own. "Please, ladies, be my guest."
The blast, when it came, was not large, and was followed by two more in rapid succession. "That should do it," O'Laughlin said, brushing the dust from her hair.
The Marines came forward with shovels, and McKay directed them, dividing up the area before bending down and digging with them. Sheppard joined in, too. It was less than an hour before Cadman shouted, "I've found something!" at the same time Rodrigues said, "Here, sir!"
They cleared the area around a large door. The writing looked like an offshoot of Ancient.
"Why was this buried in rock?" Sheppard asked.
"There was an artificial cave sealed with artificial rock," O'Laughlin said. "We took samples from Dr. Bennet's trip, and she's analyzed them. They're not a natural formation. Something hid this place on purpose."
"And now we're just going to waltz in?" Sheppard asked, looking at McKay.
"Two power sources, and no life signs," he said without looking up from his instruments, as if that were all the reason in the world.
***
Teyla looked around the room, which was bare but for two consoles and polished walls made from the artificial rock. She held her weapon at the ready. "Colonel Sheppard, I believe the Ancestors did not want this place found."
McKay answered, "Well that would explain the whole bury in an artificial cave system thing, wouldn't it?"
"What's your instinct?" Sheppard asked Teyla.
"Dr. O'Laughlin says the artificial formations are older than the departure of the Ancients, and older perhaps than the Wraith."
"So it's been down here a long time."
"And still running," McKay said, ducking under a console.
"But what does it do, and what powers it?" Sheppard asked.
"Well, it's not a ZPM. Looks like geothermal." McKay sounded disappointed.
"Anything here that can help us?"
"Near as I can tell, these two consoles control something."
"That's helpful," Sheppard said. "How strange a console might control... something."
"Ha, ha. Maybe we can turn them off and bring them back to Atlantis for further analysis."
"What, you don't think they control something on this planet?"
"Power conduits coming in, but no output."
"There was enough energy output that you read it through solid rock."
"Yes," McKay said, getting up and dusting his pants. "That is puzzling. See if you can turn this one off. I haven't been able to."
"You could unplug it."
"Yes, and if it's a database or something like that, that might wipe the memory. Look, there's an interface point here." He pointed at a truncated conical structure. "Put your hands around that and think, Shut down"
Sheppard put his right hand on one side, but it didn't respond. He reached with his left, and as soon as the palm made contact, liquid oozed from the sides of cone. Wherever it touched his skin, his hands felt seared.
Ronon ran in at Sheppard's cry of surprise and pain. Teyla ran forward and pulled his hands off the device.
"You owe me for this, McKay," Sheppard said through gritted teeth, looking at his hands. They hurt, and they were blistered. The right one had full contact with the device, but he had touched only the palm of his left hand when the venom started flowing.
Expressions moved quickly across McKay's face, from surprise to dismay, settling into a hollowed-out grimness. "I asked you to try to turn it off, not trigger the self-defense mechanism," McKay said, eyes returning to his computer.
"Rodney!" Teyla looked appalled.
The apparent disinterest fueled Sheppard's anger. "You used to be more cautious than this!"
McKay put down his stylus on his tablet PC and straightened his shoulders. "I'm sorry you were injured, Colonel." He barely glanced at Sheppard before returning to his work. "That better? Shouldn't you be getting medical attention?"
"I can't fly the jumper like this."
"Ah. I hadn't thought of that," McKay said, but a smirk played around the corners of his mouth. "I can. Don't you military people do field medicine? Go get patched up and let me finish in here."
Sheppard felt the blood drain from his face, and if he could have made a fist with his hands, he'd have thrown a punch. He pushed down his anger and glanced at Ronon and Teyla. Their lack of expression told him they were as angry as he was, but following his lead. Ronon led him back to the jumper, calling to Rodrigues. He soon had the field medical kit open on the deck.
"We need to get the leftover dirt off, first, sir, and then I'll get antibiotic ointment on them."
"Corporal, what's standard practice when encountering chemical warfare agents?" Sheppard asked, grimacing at the pain of the water sluicing over his hands.
"Evacuate the area and confer with base for instructions."
"And if someone is affected by CWAs?"
Rodrigues glanced up before squeezing analgesic cream on to Sheppard's palms. "Return to base if possible for medical attention."
"And what weapons class do blistering agents come under?"
A grin split Rodrigues face. "CWA, sir."
"Tell Cadman to tell McKay to pack up. We're going back to the barn, and he's driving."
He sat on a bench in the back with his eyes closed as they loaded, pretending to be out of it. No one spoke to him except Rodney, who ranted for a full five minutes before taking the controls. Sheppard only answered once. "Standard protocol, McKay. Cadman is acting on standing orders from the Pentagon," he said, and then ignored the ring of McKay's protests.
***
Sheppard lay back on his bunk, his hands bandaged. His entire right hand was burned, but at least it was only the palm on the left hand. He could feed himself awkwardly, but only the promise that he'd come back in the morning had made Carson send him home. At least wearing sweats he could take a leak on his own.
The knock on his door hardly surprised him.
"Come in," Sheppard said, slitting his eyes open.
McKay walked through the door, turned back, and then changed his angle ninety degrees and began to pace. "I'm, well, I'm sorry."
"That's nice. For what?"
"It occurs to me I may have been a little insensitive about your injuries."
Sheppard let his eyes close. "Occurs to you, or someone hit you with a clue-by-four."
He heard McKay snort. "It was pointed out to me, yes. Ronon glared, and Teyla was her usual diplomatic self."
"You've been a dick for over a week."
"I know. I'm sorry."
"Apology heard and accepted. End of story. Good night, Rodney."
"There's more."
"But wait," Sheppard said with false brightness, "there's more. Forget it. I don't need a Ginzu knife."
A small silence was broken by McKay's footsteps changing course. The bed shifted under his weight when he sat down.
"I'm sorry," McKay said again.
"Got that part."
"Not about your hands. Yes, I mean about that, but not just about that. I've been a dick, as you so colorfully put it, because I'm pissed off at my mistake. My slip, with Carson, about the, you know."
"Yeah, well, it was your slip, but I trust Carson. Even if he figured out who it was, do you think he'd say anything?"
McKay was quiet for a long moment. "No." McKay wasn't looking at him. His eyes were fixed on his boots as he said, "You're the one that would suffer most if, you know, we were - "
"Outed?"
McKay nodded. When Sheppard said nothing more, he stood and started toward the door. "I'm sorry."
Sheppard surprised himself. "I'm not."
McKay turned. "You're not?"
"I asked a question." Sheppard said.
"Wait. Which I took as a statement? You mean, we didn't have to stop?"
"You're the one that had problems with my pronoun use," Sheppard said, then cursed himself. They had stopped. Stopped. He shouldn't open the door again, but with McKay in front of him, and looking happy for the first time in a week, he was having trouble maintaining the distance.
"But I thought you - "
"It's all right. You want to?" Sheppard asked. The words were out before he could stop them.
"Do you? Really?" McKay said.
This violated protocol. The answer was supposed to be a nod, or yeah, or something simple, not another question. Why would McKay doubt? Sheppard opened his eyes at last and said, "What kind of question is that?"
"So we can - "
"Go back to what we were doing." Sheppard was afraid to look at him, not wanting to show anything more than casual interest.
"Oh, thank God. I've been a miserable bastard," McKay said. Then something changed in his voice, bringing in a formal tone that seemed out of place. "There's nothing like knowing where your next blow job is coming from to improve your mood."
That was what Sheppard told himself he wanted to hear, and he took it at face value. He raised his hands. "Of course, thanks to you, you're going to have to do all the work."
"Right. I do owe you for that."
McKay still had that formal tone. "So what is this? A pity fuck?"
McKay's head came up fast, dismay on his face. "What? No. No fucking. No pity."
"Good."
McKay walked back over to the bed, and got on his knees next to Sheppard's hips. It wasn't a graceful move, and there was little finesse in the way he pulled down the sweat pants. Sheppard felt his cock twitch against his thigh in reaction to the cool air followed by Rodney's breath.
"I missed - " McKay began, but he cut himself off before he could say something like you or this. Instead he asked, "I've been a dick?"
"Jerk. Asshole. Dick. Yeah."
"Sorry. You didn't break up with a girl, you know."
Sheppard had to look at him. "No, I didn't. Not a girl. Not a breakup." He felt a little stupid with his pants down.
McKay shrugged, and Sheppard watched him slot whatever it was he thought they were into some mental pigeonhole. McKay nodded, and turned his attention to the bare flesh in front of him.
He reached for John's cock, which was lengthening, but soft, and sucked it into his mouth. John felt suddenly light headed as Rodney's mouth worked him in ways that couldn't be done with a hard on, sliding his tongue around and sucking in a way that almost hurt. Rodney sucked John's brains down to his crotch, leaving him no choice but to lie back and moan. He heard stupid noises coming out of his mouth. Much more of this and he would start howling like a porn star. He had barely gotten all the way hard when he felt it start, and the orgasm was sharp and fast, but he felt like he'd flooded Rodney's mouth, poured down his throat.
He hadn't come that fast since he was thirteen.
"Jesus."
"Nope, just me."
"Can I return the favor?"
"In a minute." McKay sat on the bed and leaned over to take off his boots. Sheppard looked over. They were the combat boots. If he hadn't changed since they came back from the planet, McKay had been wearing them for hours. "Ugh," he grunted as the first one came off, and then the other. He peeled off his socks and picked up his right foot to look at it. "No blisters this time."
"See, we told you." Sheppard shook his head slightly, trying to put together the mix of afterglow and McKay looking at his feet until he realized that this was just a step on the way to McKay getting his clothes off.
He shucked his BDUs and pulled off the shirt. "Make room." Sheppard moved over and McKay lay down. "God I'm tired."
"Figure out anything more about those devices?"
"Zelenka has some ideas. They're probably wrong, of course, but I'll tell him that in the morning."
Sheppard sat up and looked down McKay's body. His cock lay across his balls, and nothing said he was looking for sex, but here he was naked in the bed. "Rodney?"
"Yes."
"Um, what do you want?"
"A blow job and twelve hours of sleep."
"I think you want the sleep more. You're not even hard."
"Do something about that, why don't you?" He waved a hand vaguely, as if ordering a lab assistant.
John had to laugh. He slid down the bed, bringing his head even with Rodney's groin, and tried to return the favor. He'd never had the chance to suck a dick that wasn't hard yet, and he found himself wishing it would stay that way. There was so much more he could do with it. But those things made Rodney hard, and John's mouth alone couldn’t handle it. He reached for Rodney's hand and brought it to his mouth, licking the palm and the fingers to get them wet.
Rodney understood, reaching for his own cock and jacking himself while John sucked. John's lips followed Rodney's fist, and his mouth left him as slick as possible.
"Tongue," Rodney said, and John left the serious work to Rodney's hand, concentrating on the head of his cock and swirling his tongue around the shaft, up and over, then leaning in to suck again.
Rodney made it last, but didn't stretch it out long enough to hurt John's mouth. When John started to get tired he flattened his tongue and thrust down across the exposed head in time with Rodney's hand. "Oh. Oh yeah," Rodney said, and John backed off to watch him come, semen shooting up and landing on Rodney's sternum, then striping down his belly.
Sheppard got up to find a towel, then tossed it at McKay, who was almost asleep already, but wiped at himself and rolled over, showing no signs of leaving. Sheppard took another painkiller and lay down in the little space left to him. He didn't think he'd fall asleep.
***
He woke up to find McKay tying his wrist to the bed with a bootlace. The other one was already secure.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Experiment." McKay said, finishing the knot. "Where's the Vaseline?"
"What?" Sheppard felt panicked.
"Or whatever you use on your feet. Where is it?"
"What are you trying to do?"
"An experiment," he repeated. "You're the subject. I wasn't sure you'd cooperate."
"I'm not a lab rat, Rodney."
"No, but I'm a scientist. I have a hypothesis I want to test. Where's the Vaseline."
"Find it yourself." He was pissed.
"Look," McKay said, rummaging through the drawers. He was naked, and soft light played over his back and his ass. "If you don't like it, I'll stop. It's just that Carson got me thinking about something."
"Carson?"
"Yeah, so I did some reading when we were, you know, broken up."
"We didn't break up."
McKay looked over his shoulder. "Fine, whatever. Having a break in the buddy sex." He turned all the way around, the Vaseline in his hand, and his certainty failing. "Let me try this."
"Why'd you tie me up?" Sheppard pulled at the bootlaces. He could break them if he wanted, he was pretty sure.
"Well that's in part a fantasy and in part to keep you from doing anything that will hurt your hands." McKay walked closer to him. "Either one alone, maybe not, but both tipped the balance. It was a combinatorial effect."
"That's twisted logic."
"Just, please, trust me, okay?" McKay seemed afraid, almost, like they were on a mission and he was going to have to fire his gun. "I will stop and untie you the minute you ask me to. Just please, trust me."
Sheppard didn't let himself take the easy shot. The looked at each other for a long moment. This was some twisted Rodney way of apologizing for messing up with Carson. If he said no, Rodney would leave, and only part of him would ever come back, if he came back at all. John heard himself thinking that he didn't want less of Rodney than he had, and the thought did not sit well.
This was his out, and he didn't take it. "Okay."
Rodney knelt next to him. "Lie back and relax." He pulled off John's sweatpants and tossed them aside, then placed a hand on his stomach, broad and warm.
"What are you going to do?"
"If I do this right, blow your mind."
"Just plain blowing would be fine. Can I inform you that prostate exams are not my idea of a good time?"
"If I do this right, it won't remind you of anything medical."
"You keep saying if. I thought you could make anything work." Sheppard knew he was trying to tell himself to relax.
Rodney ignored the razzing. "This one requires cooperation."
Sheppard pulled at the boot laces. "I think you forced that issue."
"Yes, well." McKay looked like he was about to take on a difficult repair. "Relax."
He leaned in and took Sheppard's cock in his mouth. John was slow to get hard, with the idea of what they were about to do in the back of his thoughts, but Rodney was taking his time and didn't seem to mind. The swirl of tongue, the suction, and the hand pulling on his balls in almost exactly the right way finally converged to the point where he was bucking, trying for more of Rodney's mouth.
Rodney slowed down, moved down, sucking each testicle into his mouth and rubbing the space behind while he slowly jacked John's dick, keeping him close to the edge. He backed off, reaching under John's legs, bending the knees, and meeting no resistance. At the familiar sound of the Vaseline lid, John tensed.
"Shh. Shh," Rodney whispered, even though John had said nothing.
Rodney leaned his head against John's thigh, working his cock with one hand and reaching around for the balls. John felt him pull, then rub a grease-slick finger behind. It had felt good before, but with the slide of the Vaseline, all discomfort from pulled hair or too-hard friction was gone. Rodney's fingers pushed harder, and it felt better than it should have.
The sensation was gone, and then back again. John realized Rodney had dipped down for more Vaseline. Rodney's fingers stroked down, from his balls all the way to his ass, then beyond and back again. There was no pause at the entrance, just a swipe across on the way somewhere else, then again on the way back. Rodney was being careful, but John tensed at the sensation.
The feelings moved between hot and turn off in the space of microseconds. From the feel of Rodney's hand jacking his dick, John could tell he was losing some of his hard.
"Shh," Rodney said again. He seemed to decide it was time, so he added a circling motion on each stroke, then stopped and shifted his position so that he could use his mouth. It almost distracted John from the finger that pushed, but did not penetrate.
In part of his mind, Sheppard realized that McKay had a plan, a scientific protocol to approach the situation, and when it came down to it, he trusted him. He lay back, relaxed, and just let it happen, willing himself to relax when one of Rodney's blunt fingers breached him, in, then out again, slow and circling.
He felt Rodney's mouth let him go, felt his dick flop soft against his belly. Erections and fingers in his ass were not, in his mind, natural companions. Rodney leaned his head against John's thigh, dipped for more Vaseline, then slid one finger all the way in.
It took all of John's self-control not to buck off the bed, to pull back his hips, or do anything to get it out. Rodney followed all of John's half-started motions, and when they finally stilled, he waited unmoving for several moments until John felt himself relaxing around the finger. Eventually Rodney took John's dick in his mouth again, and repeated the incredible motions with his tongue. John surprised himself by getting hard, by getting into it, and he had forgotten entirely about where Rodney's other hand was until it moved.
It was the smallest of motions, and all internal. John felt pleasure that was deep, like he had nerve endings beyond his balls and the base of his dick. It was wrong and it was inside and it was good. Medical fingers probed, looked for size and edges, and it was always a bit intense but never pleasant. Rodney's movements were small at first, then more bold as he read John's responses. The finger tip circled and rubbed and pushed, and John's orgasm rose swift and hard, short but intense, the sensation of ejaculating layered on top of something internal that wired his legs into the equation.
When it was over and the aftershocks slowed, Rodney gently sucked the last drops, and let John's dick fall slowly from his mouth. His hand pulled back a bit at the same time, and John hissed at the intensity of the combination. Rodney stopped. "I'm going to, you know." He pulled his hand back a bit more, and John said, "Okay," hissing again as the finger left him.
"You okay?" Rodney asked, looking at him with concern.
John looked up and away, toward the head of the bed. "If you untie me. I don't think your lab rat is going anywhere after that."
"Oh. Oh, right." McKay stood and undid the knots too quickly for them to have been at all serious.
"So, was that okay?" McKay sounded worried.
Sheppard laughed. "That's a word for it." He held up his hands. "Thanks, buddy, but I don't think I'll be returning the favor any time soon."
McKay sat down next to him, and when Sheppard looked, his face lacked expression, other than the small line between the eyebrows that indicated he was thinking. McKay took the towel and gently wiped off the Vaseline. "No, of course not. Terribly unhygienic around those blisters, and in fact, I'll just go, you know, wash up."
Sheppard heard the water in the bathroom, and was dozing before McKay returned. He heard the sound of cloth, then felt the weight of McKay sitting on the bed, shaking the mattress with the motions of re-lacing his boots and putting them on. The motion kept him awake, or he would have missed McKay's voice when he rose to leave.
"That was an N of one. For it to be science, I have to repeat the experiment and verify the results. One time it's chance. Twice it's coincidence. Third time it's science."
"You start feeding me rat chow," Sheppard mumbled, "and I will break up with you."
"Not rats. Mice. Like Pinky and the Brain."
"Don't start quoting that cartoon at me. Besides, the Brain was a lab animal, too."
"Remember," McKay laughed, low and full of promise, but not entirely convincing, "experimentation is sort of the idea here. Buddy."
The door swished, open, then closed, and John was alone.
He realized what he'd said, and what he meant, and what he hoped Rodney - no, McKay - hadn't heard.
Yeah, right, it was buddy sex. Who turns down blow jobs? Uh, huh.
That was all just so much grease.
Fin