(no subject)
Title: Loose Lips
Author: Misty4me
Pairing: McBeck
Rating: ~1200 words of mild NC-17 (if that’s even possible!)
Summary: Rodney can’t seem to stop saying what’s on his mind.
Disclaimer: Like I have to TELL you their not mine?
A/N Written for chaps1870 because yesterday was a terrible, h0rrible, no good, very bad day.
“Bloody Hell!” Carson’s voice could be heard outside the infirmary as he pulled John’s hand away from his crotch for, oh, the tenth time in as many minutes. He took a step back from the examining table and threw up his hands in frustration. “How am I supposed to check him over when he’s pawing me nonstop!”
“SHHHHH!” Rodney threw the doctor a mutinous look. “Don’t you know you could ruin his career?”
“Rodney, he’s drugged to the gills, he’s not in control of what he’s doing.” They’d already cleared the infirmary of everyone else. Rodney glanced at Sheppard uncertainly. Alien sex drugs, at least there was an explanation. And he thought Stargate Command was weird, the Pegasus galaxy made it look tame. He shook his head, looked at Beckett, and raised an eyebrow, “Restraints?”
“Aye, I’m afraid so.” And hadn’t that been just about the worst idea that anyone had come up with in a long time. They should have started out by locking Sheppard in his quarters and waiting it out. It would have avoided the 20 minutes of listening to him swear at the top of his lungs because he was horny and pissed off. It also would have avoided the 20 minutes before that, where the astrophysicist and the doctor were treated to John’s begging to be let go, accompanied by rather graphic descriptions of exactly what he’d joyfully do to both of them with his mouth, hands, and dick if they’d just please, please unbuckle the straps. Who would have thought that a career officer could be so creative? Of course this was Sheppard. Rodney had to admit that the swearing hadn’t been that hard to ignore since he and Carson had locked the infirmary door and spent most of the time in the doctor’s office trying some of Sheppard’s ideas.
Oh well, at least strapping the Colonel down had let Beckett sedate him enough that they got him to his room without too much trouble. 24 hours later John was back to his usual self, although it was going to take a long time to live down the whole alien sex drug angle of things. At least they’d kept everyone else out of the infirmary during most of John’s more creative ramblings and McKay had confiscated the security video before anyone had touched it.
“Carson, what’s this doing here?” Rodney picked up the little ceramic crock that they’d brought back from MPS-3DZ along with one very unmilitary acting Colonel John Sheppard, no trade agreement and three bruised but otherwise unharmed teammates. Whatever had been in the ceremonial drink the headman shared with the Colonel, it had led to some rather unusual behavior. Not that Rodney was objecting really. Sheppard was definitely hot in a pretty-flyboy kind of way and seeing him cozying up to the chief in a not-very-military way had caught Rodney’s attention in a not-very- scientific way. Part of his had brain really, really wanted to see what would happen, but then another part reminded him that friends don’t let friends fuck drunk… drugged, whatever. So he’d sighed and signaled Teyla and Ronan, and they’d had to drag the Colonel back to the gate with absolutely no one happy about it, including the headman who had set his thugs on them as soon as he realized that he wasn’t going to be having a nice little tête-á-tete with the pretty Atlantean.
They were in Carson’s rooms, having a cup of coffee after dinner. It never failed to amaze Rodney the souvenirs that the doctor kept from their various misadventures. Carson’s expression was mildly amused but his eyes were glittering in that way that made Rodney forget entirely about ZedPMs. “Oh that, I just thought it was rather a pretty bit of work, don’t ye agree?”
“Umm, I suppose. What happened to the ….” The sample of the drug they’d demanded at gunpoint.
“Oh, I couldn’t very well leave it in that, just lying around, now could I?” He sat on the couch and handed Rodney a refill.
“No, I suppose not.” The coffee was hot and aromatic. Rodney inhaled, “Have I mentioned how glad I am that the Daedalus brought coffee?”
“No, Rodney, not in the last five minutes.”
“Very funny, Carson.” He tried to be snarky but his taste buds were way too happy to put much effort into it. Waving a hand at the collection of souvenirs from assorted mishaps that the gate teams had run into, he asked, “Why do you keep this stuff anyway?”
“Ach, Rodney, just because they caused you and the others a wee bit of trouble doesn’t mean they don’t have their uses. Besides, I only keep the things that are artisan works.” Now that he mentioned it, Rodney noticed it was true. The ceramic crock, a set of copper bracelets that Bates had worn back after accidentally getting himself married on P8Y-4RT, a heavy rug that they’d hauled Rodney through the gate on one day, a braided leather rope that had been used to tie Stackhouse up, they were all handmade and excellent workmanship. Rodney shrugged. At least Carson’s quarters were interesting.
His attention drifting from the collection of artifacts back to his friend, McKay settled on the couch that had also made its way into Beckett’s quarters and took another sip of the coffee. God he’d missed good coffee. He’d really, really missed it. Carson chuckled and was looking at him almost expectantly. “What!”
“I knew you were missin’ your coffee Rodney, but not that much.”
Oh my god, he must have said it out loud, he was really losing it. And speaking of losing it, he was having a hard time taking his eyes off of Carson, who was puttering around the room. He’d never told the Scot just how good he looked in those particular clothes…old jeans that showed off a rather fine ass and an Aran sweater that stretched across his chest. The off white brought out the blue of his eyes and there was something about the intricacy of the pattern that just seemed to go with the Scotsman. The whole thing gave him an earthy, sultry air that went straight to Rodney’s cock.
“Is that so?”
“What?” He looked up and realized that Carson was smiling at him, only it was a predatory kind of smile. Oh god, he’d said that out loud too.
“And why is this the first I’m hearing of this, Rodney?”
“Shutting up now, Carson.” He was on the edge of hyperventilating, hands waving about as if they could grab onto the words that had slipped out. What was getting into him? It just wasn’t like him to say everything that was going through his head, at least not about sex. Physics, maybe, but definitely not about Carson, who he’d been fantasizing about for months, picturing him naked and sprawled on the bed and Rodney with his mouth around the doctor’s cock, sucking until the only thing the other man could do was beg for release. No way.
“But I like hearing what you have to say…” Carson was standing in front of him, “in case you hadn’t noticed.” The bulge in Carson’s jeans, hovering at eye level, was hard to miss.
Rodney groaned. He just didn’t seem to be able to keep his mouth shut…..
“Oh I think I’d rather like your mouth open, wide open….”
Author: Misty4me
Pairing: McBeck
Rating: ~1200 words of mild NC-17 (if that’s even possible!)
Summary: Rodney can’t seem to stop saying what’s on his mind.
Disclaimer: Like I have to TELL you their not mine?
A/N Written for chaps1870 because yesterday was a terrible, h0rrible, no good, very bad day.
“Bloody Hell!” Carson’s voice could be heard outside the infirmary as he pulled John’s hand away from his crotch for, oh, the tenth time in as many minutes. He took a step back from the examining table and threw up his hands in frustration. “How am I supposed to check him over when he’s pawing me nonstop!”
“SHHHHH!” Rodney threw the doctor a mutinous look. “Don’t you know you could ruin his career?”
“Rodney, he’s drugged to the gills, he’s not in control of what he’s doing.” They’d already cleared the infirmary of everyone else. Rodney glanced at Sheppard uncertainly. Alien sex drugs, at least there was an explanation. And he thought Stargate Command was weird, the Pegasus galaxy made it look tame. He shook his head, looked at Beckett, and raised an eyebrow, “Restraints?”
“Aye, I’m afraid so.” And hadn’t that been just about the worst idea that anyone had come up with in a long time. They should have started out by locking Sheppard in his quarters and waiting it out. It would have avoided the 20 minutes of listening to him swear at the top of his lungs because he was horny and pissed off. It also would have avoided the 20 minutes before that, where the astrophysicist and the doctor were treated to John’s begging to be let go, accompanied by rather graphic descriptions of exactly what he’d joyfully do to both of them with his mouth, hands, and dick if they’d just please, please unbuckle the straps. Who would have thought that a career officer could be so creative? Of course this was Sheppard. Rodney had to admit that the swearing hadn’t been that hard to ignore since he and Carson had locked the infirmary door and spent most of the time in the doctor’s office trying some of Sheppard’s ideas.
Oh well, at least strapping the Colonel down had let Beckett sedate him enough that they got him to his room without too much trouble. 24 hours later John was back to his usual self, although it was going to take a long time to live down the whole alien sex drug angle of things. At least they’d kept everyone else out of the infirmary during most of John’s more creative ramblings and McKay had confiscated the security video before anyone had touched it.
“Carson, what’s this doing here?” Rodney picked up the little ceramic crock that they’d brought back from MPS-3DZ along with one very unmilitary acting Colonel John Sheppard, no trade agreement and three bruised but otherwise unharmed teammates. Whatever had been in the ceremonial drink the headman shared with the Colonel, it had led to some rather unusual behavior. Not that Rodney was objecting really. Sheppard was definitely hot in a pretty-flyboy kind of way and seeing him cozying up to the chief in a not-very-military way had caught Rodney’s attention in a not-very- scientific way. Part of his had brain really, really wanted to see what would happen, but then another part reminded him that friends don’t let friends fuck drunk… drugged, whatever. So he’d sighed and signaled Teyla and Ronan, and they’d had to drag the Colonel back to the gate with absolutely no one happy about it, including the headman who had set his thugs on them as soon as he realized that he wasn’t going to be having a nice little tête-á-tete with the pretty Atlantean.
They were in Carson’s rooms, having a cup of coffee after dinner. It never failed to amaze Rodney the souvenirs that the doctor kept from their various misadventures. Carson’s expression was mildly amused but his eyes were glittering in that way that made Rodney forget entirely about ZedPMs. “Oh that, I just thought it was rather a pretty bit of work, don’t ye agree?”
“Umm, I suppose. What happened to the ….” The sample of the drug they’d demanded at gunpoint.
“Oh, I couldn’t very well leave it in that, just lying around, now could I?” He sat on the couch and handed Rodney a refill.
“No, I suppose not.” The coffee was hot and aromatic. Rodney inhaled, “Have I mentioned how glad I am that the Daedalus brought coffee?”
“No, Rodney, not in the last five minutes.”
“Very funny, Carson.” He tried to be snarky but his taste buds were way too happy to put much effort into it. Waving a hand at the collection of souvenirs from assorted mishaps that the gate teams had run into, he asked, “Why do you keep this stuff anyway?”
“Ach, Rodney, just because they caused you and the others a wee bit of trouble doesn’t mean they don’t have their uses. Besides, I only keep the things that are artisan works.” Now that he mentioned it, Rodney noticed it was true. The ceramic crock, a set of copper bracelets that Bates had worn back after accidentally getting himself married on P8Y-4RT, a heavy rug that they’d hauled Rodney through the gate on one day, a braided leather rope that had been used to tie Stackhouse up, they were all handmade and excellent workmanship. Rodney shrugged. At least Carson’s quarters were interesting.
His attention drifting from the collection of artifacts back to his friend, McKay settled on the couch that had also made its way into Beckett’s quarters and took another sip of the coffee. God he’d missed good coffee. He’d really, really missed it. Carson chuckled and was looking at him almost expectantly. “What!”
“I knew you were missin’ your coffee Rodney, but not that much.”
Oh my god, he must have said it out loud, he was really losing it. And speaking of losing it, he was having a hard time taking his eyes off of Carson, who was puttering around the room. He’d never told the Scot just how good he looked in those particular clothes…old jeans that showed off a rather fine ass and an Aran sweater that stretched across his chest. The off white brought out the blue of his eyes and there was something about the intricacy of the pattern that just seemed to go with the Scotsman. The whole thing gave him an earthy, sultry air that went straight to Rodney’s cock.
“Is that so?”
“What?” He looked up and realized that Carson was smiling at him, only it was a predatory kind of smile. Oh god, he’d said that out loud too.
“And why is this the first I’m hearing of this, Rodney?”
“Shutting up now, Carson.” He was on the edge of hyperventilating, hands waving about as if they could grab onto the words that had slipped out. What was getting into him? It just wasn’t like him to say everything that was going through his head, at least not about sex. Physics, maybe, but definitely not about Carson, who he’d been fantasizing about for months, picturing him naked and sprawled on the bed and Rodney with his mouth around the doctor’s cock, sucking until the only thing the other man could do was beg for release. No way.
“But I like hearing what you have to say…” Carson was standing in front of him, “in case you hadn’t noticed.” The bulge in Carson’s jeans, hovering at eye level, was hard to miss.
Rodney groaned. He just didn’t seem to be able to keep his mouth shut…..
“Oh I think I’d rather like your mouth open, wide open….”