Cliche bingo entry the first
Written for cliche_bingo
Title: Sensual Magic
Cliché: Magical Creatures
Pairing: John/Rodney
Rating: NC-17
Betas: The gracious team of mischief5 who rescued me from mad comma placement, and neevebrody who kept me on track, well, she tried.
Ah a summary. I knew I forgot something- John is a vampire and Rodney is not.
Sensual Magic
John Sheppard flicked a bored eye over the room. So many to choose from, and yet so many of the usual type that it wore on his nerves. It used to be flattering, how they were so eager for him, waiting with their own desperate hunger and watching his every move.
He could walk into a room, hips first, lean back against the doorway and just lazily wait for his meals to come to him. A cock of the eyebrow and little smirk, and at least half of them, men and women alike, would be partially disrobed before they were six feet away and a few would be crawling over on hands and knees. Others, no matter how resistant they believed themselves to be, would expose the line of their throats silently begging to be taken, the men already hard and the women wet.
No, John was never hungry unless by choice.
The term Vampire annoyed him as much as the sycophants. When had being a meal ticket become trendy? John shuddered, thinking B-movies and Whedon had much to answer for, because dust? Just no. John preferred to think of himself as a Libertine. It connoted less of the cobwebby grave and stake. He certainly didn’t drain the blood from anyone, not unless they were a threat. He’d keep the black clothing - minus the cape, though. He kind of liked that part.
There was a new human in the room. Well, now, this was interesting. This one had a mind full of images and words, moving too quickly for John to control. He’d never met one with this much resistance and John stepped forward in anticipation of a little fun.
The man held a hand up at John’s approach. “Oh, no. Nope, no way. I am not one of your cattle. I’ve heard about the likes of you. Just stay away from me. Over there. Way over there. I’m looking for a colleague, because I lost the bet and he’s around here somewhere suffering the effects of too much drink and, oh lucky me, I get the not-pleasure of making sure he gets safely into a cab without compromising any of his security clearance.
Didn’t I tell you not to come any closer, you, you playboy person, with the sexiness and wiles. I’m Dr. Rodney McKay and I’ll have you know I’m, I’m unwilable. Mostly. Mostly unwilable and ... are you even listening?”
Playboy person. John grinned. Rodney was a little off the mark. He could work with that. Besides he smelled incredible. John barely held himself back from licking at Rodney’s throat. No, he wouldn’t spook him and he certainly wouldn’t let him get away. Like prey, John could find him anywhere now he had his scent. And Rodney was warm, so warm, his entire body a feast for libertine senses. It was becoming difficult for John to keep his hands to himself. He already knew Rodney’s blood would be sensual, could fill and sate him like no other experience. Oh, he was never letting this one go.
“Let me buy you a drink,” coaxed John.
Rodney merely eyed him suspiciously.
“C’mon. Your friend is probably going to find his way back to the bar anyway and then you won’t have to run around looking for him.” John slid a hand under Rodney’s elbow and led him towards the barroom. Rodney’s response was gratifying. He may not have realized it yet but his body was answering John’s call, blood singing for him and hips brushing against him as they made their way to the next room.
John definitely had something a little more private in mind for later but right now he was trying to figure out the puzzle Dr. McKay presented.
It was more than not being able to get into McKay’s head. Being next to him made every nerve tingle. Hell, even his fangs were sensitized to a degree John had never experienced before. There’d been nothing like this in his two centuries of libertine existence.
John’s first 50 years had been spent alternating between denial and desperately looking for more of his kind. The following decades he spent hunting down the demon who did this to him. John’s mind shied away from thinking of that kill as glorious, but it was a kill John would never regret.
Years passed as he gathered all the lore he could find. Bits of writing and oral tradition he read and absorbed, frantically trying to find answers; in the ensuing decades, he realized it was all utter shit.
He wasn’t particularly proud of himself for some of the things he’d done. But he wasn’t too hard on himself either. After all, it was in his nature now; maybe parts of it always had been. He missed being warm and it felt like he’d been lonely for years but, if he was honest, that part wasn’t so different from his preturned years.
Rodney’s presence was a balm to all that, John thought as he watched him talking on the phone. What was it about him? Rodney’s physical appeal was exactly John’s type, broad shoulders and strong thighs. Thighs John had already imagined naked while he straddled them, working his cock against Rodney’s belly while his fangs teased his neck. He imagined how it would sound hearing Rodney beg to be bitten and, suddenly, he got harder, faster than he thought possible. John stifled a moan. This was more than the hunter’s instinct to trap and tame what was his. Whatever this was, Dr. Rodney McKay had the key. Hell, he was the key.
“Well, that’s it then. No more babysitting,” Rodney said as he put the cell away. He turned to John and asked, “How did you do that? I’ve never seen anything like that before. All those people throwing themselves at you like that.”
“It just happens, it’s not something…” John paused, and reached out, running a fingertip across Rodney’s mouth. Watched the hot flush rise in Rodney’s cheeks as John breathed in the response of a male almost ready to be taken. “It’s not something I want anymore.”
“Do you want to, um, I mean you did ask me for a drink and, okay, that’s not usually the way my evenings go, but if you did want, I wouldn’t be adverse to…oh, hell. What do you want?”
“You. I. Want. You. I have rooms here. Come with me, I only bite a little.” John smiled, easy and welcoming, as he held his hand out, nearly thrumming with repressed energy as Rodney took it and let John lead the way upstairs.
~ * ~
“You brought me to your room to look at a book? Oh fine. I don’t know why I expected anything different. Just because you look hot and slutty, and what do you mean you can’t read? Are you serious, because I didn’t think you were stupid. You’re not even blond.”
“I said I can’t read you, Dr. McKay. That’s not something I’ve had to deal with in 200 years.”
“Pretty but stupid and crazy. How do I get myself into these things? All right fine, fine. Explain it to me. You can use little words if you have to.”
John took a deep breath and refrained from pounding his head into the woodwork. If Rodney was as he suspected, well, he’d have centuries to get used to that acerbic tongue. Vamps would never try to change one of Rodney’s ilk. Hell, wars had been fought for the privilege of having one like him by their side.
“There are old legends. You know some of them. I’m sure you’ve heard of vampires for example. There’s one even older. To understand this you’ll have to assume vampires are real and that they have legends even older than human ones.”
John poured Rodney a glass of wine. “Sit down and relax. This is going to take some time to explain.” He gently pushed Rodney toward the bed, easily leaning into him, close enough to be soothed by his heartbeat and the heat of his body.
“I’d really like for us both to get comfortable and believe me I’d skip this part if it weren’t so important,” he husked low into Rodney’s ear, sliding one hand along his backside, stopping just above the rise of that incredible ass.
He couldn’t help notice Rodney was pleasingly affected by John’s familiarity. Preening might not be a very libertine thing to do, but who the fuck cared. He had Dr. Rodney McKay right where he wanted him.
“You don’t mind if I call you Rodney? Good. That’s good. Vamps exist, Rodney. You can trust me on this. They’re shit for keeping records but one legend has been kept throughout the generations. Humans can’t know because they’d kill the creature immediately and vamps will kill any human they think has discovered one. It’s the legend of The Potential. It’s a magical creature, highly prized by vampires. Exceedingly rare. Legend has it only one is born every century.
“The blood of the Potential is powerful,” John continued. “A small taste each day is all a vampire needs to be able to walk in the sunlight. It’s believed that their blood is so potent that no other feeding is necessary. In turn, when a Potential feeds often from its claimant, its own life is lengthened, nearly ageless, and it’s immune to being turned.”
Something in the story made Rodney shiver, his eyes widened in panic, and belief was written all across he face. He griped John by the shirt front. “Wait, wait, if vampires are real and they’ll kill any human who knows, how are you still alive and why in hell are you putting my life at risk?”
John put his arms around him. He’d been aching to do that for hours and any resolve to go slow was lost to the night. John stroked him gently, quieting the tremors until Rodney responded to his caresses with a completely different kind of shiver. John kissed him, kissed him over and over, every place he could reach and, oh thank god, Rodney welcomed it. More than welcomed it as his clever, clever mate found all the buttons and zippers that separated them until there was no place left where John couldn’t ravish bare skin. John sighed in giddy relief. Who knew vampires could be giddy? It was Rodney who did this to him and a definite reward was in order.
John moved over Rodney until he could lick at the wet head of his sturdy cock. He carefully took it into his mouth. Semen wasn’t blood, but it barely needed to be, since this, from John’s chosen one, was as powerful in its essence as normal human blood. When Rodney finally arched up into his mouth sweetly, desperately giving it all to John, John knew.
As they lay curled together, Rodney tugged at John’s ear, demanding more information. John looked at him, idly sucking his own come off his fingers where he’d gotten them messy from swirling patterns over Rodney’s nipples.
“Potentials are rare and valuable. It takes a vampire to truly recognize one, since they most often walk the earth in human form. Some times the magic is so deep they don’t even know themselves what they are. They’re cherished and fought for by those that aren’t human, Rodney, because Potentials can give vampires the only chance they’ll ever have of living a ‘human’ life again.
“I told you because I think that you’re one. In fact I’m sure of it.” John smiled a wicked smile and added, “Remember when I said I only bite a little?”
Next Bitten
My card
Title: Sensual Magic
Cliché: Magical Creatures
Pairing: John/Rodney
Rating: NC-17
Betas: The gracious team of mischief5 who rescued me from mad comma placement, and neevebrody who kept me on track, well, she tried.
Ah a summary. I knew I forgot something- John is a vampire and Rodney is not.
Sensual Magic
John Sheppard flicked a bored eye over the room. So many to choose from, and yet so many of the usual type that it wore on his nerves. It used to be flattering, how they were so eager for him, waiting with their own desperate hunger and watching his every move.
He could walk into a room, hips first, lean back against the doorway and just lazily wait for his meals to come to him. A cock of the eyebrow and little smirk, and at least half of them, men and women alike, would be partially disrobed before they were six feet away and a few would be crawling over on hands and knees. Others, no matter how resistant they believed themselves to be, would expose the line of their throats silently begging to be taken, the men already hard and the women wet.
No, John was never hungry unless by choice.
The term Vampire annoyed him as much as the sycophants. When had being a meal ticket become trendy? John shuddered, thinking B-movies and Whedon had much to answer for, because dust? Just no. John preferred to think of himself as a Libertine. It connoted less of the cobwebby grave and stake. He certainly didn’t drain the blood from anyone, not unless they were a threat. He’d keep the black clothing - minus the cape, though. He kind of liked that part.
There was a new human in the room. Well, now, this was interesting. This one had a mind full of images and words, moving too quickly for John to control. He’d never met one with this much resistance and John stepped forward in anticipation of a little fun.
The man held a hand up at John’s approach. “Oh, no. Nope, no way. I am not one of your cattle. I’ve heard about the likes of you. Just stay away from me. Over there. Way over there. I’m looking for a colleague, because I lost the bet and he’s around here somewhere suffering the effects of too much drink and, oh lucky me, I get the not-pleasure of making sure he gets safely into a cab without compromising any of his security clearance.
Didn’t I tell you not to come any closer, you, you playboy person, with the sexiness and wiles. I’m Dr. Rodney McKay and I’ll have you know I’m, I’m unwilable. Mostly. Mostly unwilable and ... are you even listening?”
Playboy person. John grinned. Rodney was a little off the mark. He could work with that. Besides he smelled incredible. John barely held himself back from licking at Rodney’s throat. No, he wouldn’t spook him and he certainly wouldn’t let him get away. Like prey, John could find him anywhere now he had his scent. And Rodney was warm, so warm, his entire body a feast for libertine senses. It was becoming difficult for John to keep his hands to himself. He already knew Rodney’s blood would be sensual, could fill and sate him like no other experience. Oh, he was never letting this one go.
“Let me buy you a drink,” coaxed John.
Rodney merely eyed him suspiciously.
“C’mon. Your friend is probably going to find his way back to the bar anyway and then you won’t have to run around looking for him.” John slid a hand under Rodney’s elbow and led him towards the barroom. Rodney’s response was gratifying. He may not have realized it yet but his body was answering John’s call, blood singing for him and hips brushing against him as they made their way to the next room.
John definitely had something a little more private in mind for later but right now he was trying to figure out the puzzle Dr. McKay presented.
It was more than not being able to get into McKay’s head. Being next to him made every nerve tingle. Hell, even his fangs were sensitized to a degree John had never experienced before. There’d been nothing like this in his two centuries of libertine existence.
John’s first 50 years had been spent alternating between denial and desperately looking for more of his kind. The following decades he spent hunting down the demon who did this to him. John’s mind shied away from thinking of that kill as glorious, but it was a kill John would never regret.
Years passed as he gathered all the lore he could find. Bits of writing and oral tradition he read and absorbed, frantically trying to find answers; in the ensuing decades, he realized it was all utter shit.
He wasn’t particularly proud of himself for some of the things he’d done. But he wasn’t too hard on himself either. After all, it was in his nature now; maybe parts of it always had been. He missed being warm and it felt like he’d been lonely for years but, if he was honest, that part wasn’t so different from his preturned years.
Rodney’s presence was a balm to all that, John thought as he watched him talking on the phone. What was it about him? Rodney’s physical appeal was exactly John’s type, broad shoulders and strong thighs. Thighs John had already imagined naked while he straddled them, working his cock against Rodney’s belly while his fangs teased his neck. He imagined how it would sound hearing Rodney beg to be bitten and, suddenly, he got harder, faster than he thought possible. John stifled a moan. This was more than the hunter’s instinct to trap and tame what was his. Whatever this was, Dr. Rodney McKay had the key. Hell, he was the key.
“Well, that’s it then. No more babysitting,” Rodney said as he put the cell away. He turned to John and asked, “How did you do that? I’ve never seen anything like that before. All those people throwing themselves at you like that.”
“It just happens, it’s not something…” John paused, and reached out, running a fingertip across Rodney’s mouth. Watched the hot flush rise in Rodney’s cheeks as John breathed in the response of a male almost ready to be taken. “It’s not something I want anymore.”
“Do you want to, um, I mean you did ask me for a drink and, okay, that’s not usually the way my evenings go, but if you did want, I wouldn’t be adverse to…oh, hell. What do you want?”
“You. I. Want. You. I have rooms here. Come with me, I only bite a little.” John smiled, easy and welcoming, as he held his hand out, nearly thrumming with repressed energy as Rodney took it and let John lead the way upstairs.
~ * ~
“You brought me to your room to look at a book? Oh fine. I don’t know why I expected anything different. Just because you look hot and slutty, and what do you mean you can’t read? Are you serious, because I didn’t think you were stupid. You’re not even blond.”
“I said I can’t read you, Dr. McKay. That’s not something I’ve had to deal with in 200 years.”
“Pretty but stupid and crazy. How do I get myself into these things? All right fine, fine. Explain it to me. You can use little words if you have to.”
John took a deep breath and refrained from pounding his head into the woodwork. If Rodney was as he suspected, well, he’d have centuries to get used to that acerbic tongue. Vamps would never try to change one of Rodney’s ilk. Hell, wars had been fought for the privilege of having one like him by their side.
“There are old legends. You know some of them. I’m sure you’ve heard of vampires for example. There’s one even older. To understand this you’ll have to assume vampires are real and that they have legends even older than human ones.”
John poured Rodney a glass of wine. “Sit down and relax. This is going to take some time to explain.” He gently pushed Rodney toward the bed, easily leaning into him, close enough to be soothed by his heartbeat and the heat of his body.
“I’d really like for us both to get comfortable and believe me I’d skip this part if it weren’t so important,” he husked low into Rodney’s ear, sliding one hand along his backside, stopping just above the rise of that incredible ass.
He couldn’t help notice Rodney was pleasingly affected by John’s familiarity. Preening might not be a very libertine thing to do, but who the fuck cared. He had Dr. Rodney McKay right where he wanted him.
“You don’t mind if I call you Rodney? Good. That’s good. Vamps exist, Rodney. You can trust me on this. They’re shit for keeping records but one legend has been kept throughout the generations. Humans can’t know because they’d kill the creature immediately and vamps will kill any human they think has discovered one. It’s the legend of The Potential. It’s a magical creature, highly prized by vampires. Exceedingly rare. Legend has it only one is born every century.
“The blood of the Potential is powerful,” John continued. “A small taste each day is all a vampire needs to be able to walk in the sunlight. It’s believed that their blood is so potent that no other feeding is necessary. In turn, when a Potential feeds often from its claimant, its own life is lengthened, nearly ageless, and it’s immune to being turned.”
Something in the story made Rodney shiver, his eyes widened in panic, and belief was written all across he face. He griped John by the shirt front. “Wait, wait, if vampires are real and they’ll kill any human who knows, how are you still alive and why in hell are you putting my life at risk?”
John put his arms around him. He’d been aching to do that for hours and any resolve to go slow was lost to the night. John stroked him gently, quieting the tremors until Rodney responded to his caresses with a completely different kind of shiver. John kissed him, kissed him over and over, every place he could reach and, oh thank god, Rodney welcomed it. More than welcomed it as his clever, clever mate found all the buttons and zippers that separated them until there was no place left where John couldn’t ravish bare skin. John sighed in giddy relief. Who knew vampires could be giddy? It was Rodney who did this to him and a definite reward was in order.
John moved over Rodney until he could lick at the wet head of his sturdy cock. He carefully took it into his mouth. Semen wasn’t blood, but it barely needed to be, since this, from John’s chosen one, was as powerful in its essence as normal human blood. When Rodney finally arched up into his mouth sweetly, desperately giving it all to John, John knew.
As they lay curled together, Rodney tugged at John’s ear, demanding more information. John looked at him, idly sucking his own come off his fingers where he’d gotten them messy from swirling patterns over Rodney’s nipples.
“Potentials are rare and valuable. It takes a vampire to truly recognize one, since they most often walk the earth in human form. Some times the magic is so deep they don’t even know themselves what they are. They’re cherished and fought for by those that aren’t human, Rodney, because Potentials can give vampires the only chance they’ll ever have of living a ‘human’ life again.
“I told you because I think that you’re one. In fact I’m sure of it.” John smiled a wicked smile and added, “Remember when I said I only bite a little?”
Next Bitten
My card