Fic: Awakenings (McShep, NC-17)
I wrote something in only two days...which is a record for me!!! It's for kisahawklin , who's been having a yucky week AND not feeling well :(.
I remembered her telling me she loves a drunken John making the moves on Rodney (and who wouldn't?!) and I thought, why not write a few hundred words of porn featuring drunk!John. Well, I ended up with about 1,500 words that aren't that porny. But, either way, kisahawklin , I hope you like it and it makes the horrible week a little better!
Awakenings
The phone rang. It was a quarter to four in the morning and the phone was ringing.
Rodney was going to kill whoever was calling.
This was his vacation, damn it! One week he took every year for four years now. On Earth, away from Atlantis and the SGC. Away from feebleminded underlings and rude late night awakenings. Or so he had thought.
He groped for the handle in the darkness and threatened, “This better be good.”
“Yo.” It was Sheppard. “Ro’ney, ya still awake?”
Rodney rolled his eyes. Great, a drunken Sheppard. He should have never allowed Sheppard to talk him into coming with him, stay at his apartment.
“I am now.” Rodney turned on the lamp on his nightstand. “Where are you?”
“Where the hell am I?” he heard Sheppard ask someone. He could hear bar sounds in the background - distorted country music and the unmistakable restless ringing of a pinball machine. “The corner of Platte and Iowa, some dive called Black Sheep. Hey, are there really black sheep?”
Rodney heard a male voice on the other end, but couldn’t make out the words. Whatever the man had said, it made Sheppard laugh. “Shut up, Bill.” Then Sheppard turned his attention back to Rodney. “My pal, Bill, took my keys. Won’t let me drive home. I need you, baby. Come and save me.”
Baby? Sheppard was so drunk off his ass.
Rodney sighed. “All right, just let me throw on some clothes-“
“But I like what you’re wearing right now,” Sheppard whined then lowered his voice. “It’s hot. Did you know when you’re backlit I can see right through those boxers?”
Christ, no, Rodney hadn’t known. He managed to keep his voice steady as he pulled on a pair of jeans. “Platte and Iowa. I’ll be right over.”
“Hey, Rodney?”
Oh for Pete’s sake. “What, Sheppard?”
“Don’t tell Bill, but he’s right. I’m a little drunk.”
“A little,” he agreed sarcastically.
~ ~ ~ ~
Platte Ave. was nearly deserted by the time Rodney turned onto it. There was a row of motorcycles and one car in the parking lot of the Black Sheep. Rodney parked as close to the entrance as he could and got out.
Rodney ware a buttoned up blue shirt with his jeans, with any luck, he would fit right in. Go in, grab Sheppard, and get the hell out.
Rodney grimaced upon entering; cigarette smoke assaulting his lungs, loud music blaring into his delicate eardrums.
There were about ten people in the bar, all of them big - even the women - and covered with leather and chains. So much for fitting in.
Rodney spotted Sheppard seating at the bar, talking to the bartender.
Rodney marched over to him. “Sheppard.”
Sheppard spun on the bar stool to face him and promptly fell on his ass. But he grinned up at Rodney like he didn’t feel any pain. “Hey! Rodney! What are you doing here?”
“You called me.” He poked Sheppard with his foot. At Sheppard’s blank look, he continued, “To come and get you.”
“You must be Rodney,” the bartender said with a smile, holding out his hand. “I’m Bill.” Rodney shook it briefly. Bill reached under the bar for Sheppard’s keys and handed them to Rodney. “We’re all heard a lot about you tonight.”
Sheppard was struggling to his feet. “I called you?” He frowned. “When did I call you?” He waved his frown away. “Heck, it doesn’t matter. You’re here now. Wanna dance?”
It figured. Even falling-down drunk, Sheppard still managed to be the most attractive person Rodney’d ever seen. His hair was messier than usual, he needed a shave badly, his clothes were rumpled, and he could barely stand. Yet, his crooked smile was oddly charming and his eyes an impossibly clear shade of green.
Sheppard moved closer. “Come on, baby, let’s dance.”
Rodney crossed his arms and took a step back. “Sheppard, I got out of my nice warm bed to pick you up. Assuming I ever make it back into bed, we have to be back at work in four hours. So, no, I’m not going to dance.”
Sheppard pouted, actually pouted! He said to Bill, “I think he’s mad at me.”
“Go home,” Bill instructed gently. “I’ll keep your Harley safe. You can come and pick it up tomorrow, okay?”
Sheppard turned to Rodney. “Five women-“ He looked back at Bill. “Five different women?”
“That’s right.”
“Five different women tried to get me to go home with them tonight. But I didn’t wanna go home with them.”
Rodney stared at Sheppard, unamused and impatient. “Why are you telling me this? Do you want some kind of merit badge? A pat on-“
“You know what I told ‘em?” Sheppard interrupted. “What I tell ‘em Bill?”
“You told them that there was just one person you wanted to go home with. And unless their name was Rodney McKay, they should leave you alone.”
Rodney stared at Sheppard’s lopsided grin. Could he actually mean…? Rodney shook his head. No, of course not. The man was completely smashed. He couldn’t even remember calling Rodney.
“Alright, Sheppard, let’s go.” He pulled at Sheppard’s arm.
“See ya, Bill,” Sheppard said over his shoulder.
“Bye, John. Nice meeting you, Rodney.” The bartender smiled sincerely and returned to drying glasses.
The sky was getting lighter in the east as Rodney helped Sheppard into the front seat of his car. Finally, he got Sheppard’s seat belt fastened, untangled Sheppard’s fingers from his hair, closed the door, and climbed in behind the steering wheel.
They headed south, driving in silence for several miles before Sheppard’s hand clasped onto Rodney’s thigh and crept upwards.
Rodney clenched his jaw, tried to ignore the touch but Sheppard’s fingers nudged against Rodney’s groin. His dick twitched.
“Stop that.”
“Uh-uh. Want you.” Sheppard pressed harder.
Rodney squawked and swiftly seized Sheppard’s hand, lifting it off, only to be replaced by Sheppard’s other hand.
There was no other traffic so Rodney quickly pulled to the side of the road and shut the car off.
He turned to face Sheppard. “I can’t dri-“
Sheppard kissed him.
It was sloppy, too wet. Sheppard tasted like whiskey and beer and cigarette smoke, not a good combination. Yup, this was definitely one of the worst kisses that Rodney ever had.
Rodney was also so hard it almost hurt. This was John Sheppard, kissing him. Sheppard’s mouth was warm, his lips soft, and Rodney wanted to keep on kissing him. Instead, Rodney pushed him away. He was drunk and Rodney didn’t want to take advantage.
“John, stop.”
“Don’t wanna.” Sheppard ran his fingers along Rodney’s cheek. “Kiss me, baby.”
“I’m not, nor will I ever be your baby, Sheppard. Stop calling me that.”
Sheppard watched him for a moment. “I liked it better when you called me John.” He didn’t look all that drunk anymore but then he grinned, a goofy, uneven grin. “C’mon, kiss me. Like you wanna take off all my clothes with your teeth.”
Rodney snorted. “Even if I do, I’m not kissing you.” Rodney reached to turn on the car, but Sheppard’s hand stopped him.
“You want to…” Sheppard trailed off, shaking his head as if to clear it. He drew Rodney’s chin to face him. “Please?” he whispered earnestly.
Sheppard pulled Rodney to him, closer and closer, and Rodney couldn’t resist. As Sheppard’s mouth covered his, Rodney closed his eyes, clinging to Sheppard, pushing his tongue deeply into Sheppard’s mouth, seeking out John’s own unique taste.
Sheppard moaned, tried to tug Rodney nearer but their seat belts got in the way, and Sheppard alternately laughed and cursed with frustration between kisses before Rodney undid both belts.
Sheppard’s hands were everywhere - in Rodney’s hair, touching Rodney’s face, his waist, squeezing his thighs. Rodney gasped as Sheppard found a nipple, roughly teasing it with his thumb through Rodney’s shirt.
“God, I want you,” Sheppard breathed. He yanked at Rodney’s shirt, trying to pull it free from Rodney’s jeans, fumbling with the buttons. He pulled too hard and the buttons went flying around the car.
Whoa. That was really…hot.
Sheppard’s long fingers pinched Rodney’s exposed nipple gently, rolling it between his fingers. Rodney whimpered.
“…need you…please, Rodney.” John trailed kisses up the side of Rodney’s neck, his other hand battling with Rodney’s fly. Finally, he got it open, clumsily reaching for Rodney’s erection. He nipped at Rodney’s ear. “Want…you…fuck me.”
That did it; John’s whispered confession, the image of John underneath him, writhing as Rodney slammed into him again and again. Rodney came, his body going boneless for a long moment.
Sheppard was pouting…again. “I wanted you to fuck me,” he whined.
“I will. Later.”
Sheppard looked unconvinced. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
Sheppard beamed. “Cool.”
Rodney eyed Sheppard’s hard-on. “Want me to do something about that?”
“Hell yeah.”
A few minutes into a blow job, Rodney felt Sheppard go slack but he didn’t come. Rodney straightened and looked at Sheppard.
Sheppard had passed out against his seat, snoring softly, mouth open.
Reality came crashing down on Rodney. Sheppard had been drunk and horny and Rodney had taken advantage.
Rodney turned on his car, shame filling him. Sheppard was his best friend and more than likely Rodney had just ruined that friendship. Sheppard was never going to forgive him.
Rodney sent a silent prayer to every God he could think of that Sheppard wouldn’t remember any of this tomorrow.
But Sheppard remembered.
Although he didn’t tell Rodney until they were back in Atlantis two days later. Well, he didn’t really tell Rodney, more like he cornered Rodney in a transporter and demanded to know if it was later yet.