SGA-fic: The Very Dirty and Vaguely Disturbing Story of Why We Haven't Seen the Fleece in Pegasus
Title: The Very Dirty and Vaguely Disturbing Story of Why We Haven't Seen the Fleece in Pegasus
Author: Zinnith's pervy alter ego
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: John/Rodney, John/Fleece
Warnings: Crack. Kinky crack. Or cracky kink. Of the...um... fetish-y kind... Also a tiny bit of angst. Where did that come from?
Disclaimer: Still not mine.
Notes: I am deeply ashamed of myself.
mcfleece made me do it!
Summary: John really likes Rodney’s fleece.
The first time Dr. Rodney McKay had sex with Major John Sheppard was in a supply closet at the Ancient outpost in Antarctica. Sheppard had been on 'lightswitch duty' all day and Rodney was getting more and more distracted by the hair and the smirk and the looks Sheppard was giving him. Those hazel eyes seemed to be watching his every move. Every time he looked up, Sheppard was there. When he looked away again, he could feel Sheppard's gaze boring into his back.
At the end of the day, Sheppard hung around the lab, seemingly waiting for Rodney to leave. Rodney couldn’t figure out why - it wasn’t like he had any time or energy to spare for some random flyboy whose only saving grace was his genes (okay, maybe his looks as well, Rodney wasn’t blind). But Sheppard kept tailing him as he left the lab, still with that strangely intense look in his face.
Sheppard’s eyes made Rodney nervous so eventually he turned around and said, “Excuse me, Major, is there a reason for why you’re following me around like a demented golden retriever?”
Thirty seconds later he found himself in the supply closet with Sheppard's mouth against his neck and Sheppard's hand down his pants. Considering how long it was since Rodney'd had someone else's hand on his cock, he certainly wasn't complaining.
It was apparently not the first handjob Sheppard had given and he was very good at it. It didn't take long for Rodney to come and as he groaned his release, Sheppard buried his face in Rodney's shoulder, rubbing it against the fabric of his orange fleece.
"That was..." Rodney panted, as he was trying to recover. He couldn't figure out exactly what he had meant to say and gestured to Sheppard's groin instead. "Um. Should I?"
"I don't think that'll be necessary," Sheppard answered and tugged his jacket down to cover the big wet spot on the front of his pants.
* * *
The second time Rodney had sex with Sheppard was in a supply closet at McMurdo. Sheppard had flown him back to the base (an experience Rodney wasn’t very keen on repeating) and when Rodney headed for his room, Sheppard followed. This time it was less of a surprise to be shoved into the nearest closet and since last time hadn’t been a complete disaster Rodney decided that if Sheppard wanted to keep molesting him in the various supply closets of Antarctica, he wasn’t going to protest.
He shrugged out of his parka and was about to pull the fleece over his head when Sheppard grabbed his arms and said, “Wait, leave it on,” and before Rodney knew it he was on the receiving end of what was possibly the best blowjob of his life.
Sheppard obviously had experience with his mouth as well as his hands, and then he sneaked a finger back and pressed it against that spot behind Rodney’s balls that never failed to make him see stars. He emptied himself down Sheppard’s throat and the Major swallowed with a moan.
And then he wiped his lips with the back of his hand and stood up. “Not bad, McKay,” he drawled, and then he was out the door and disappeared before Rodney even had time to pull his pants back up.
* * *
The third time Rodney had sex with Sheppard was in the same supply closet. Rodney was kneeling between Sheppard's legs, stroking his cock and preparing to show him that Air Force Majors weren’t the only ones who knew how to give blowjobs.
He never got that far though. Sheppard was panting so loudly that Rodney was a little worried they would be overheard, and before Rodney could even touch his lips to the weeping head of Sheppard’s cock, the Major shuddered violently and came like a geyser.
Rodney glared at Sheppard and then down at the stained orange fleece.
"You came on my sweater!" he said in disgust.
But when he looked up again, Sheppard's eyes were completely blown; only a thin ring of hazel visible around the pupils and his mouth was half open and slack. It really shouldn’t be so hot - Sheppard wasn’t even Rodney’s type, he preferred his partners smart and blond. But that look on Sheppard’s face was almost enough to bring Rodney off there and then, so he had to pull his dick out and jerk off on the floor while watching how Sheppard struggled to return to reality.
When the glazed look had faded from Sheppard’s eyes and the smirk had reappeared, Rodney pulled the fleece off and thrust it into Sheppard’s hands.
“What?” Sheppard said, somewhat bewildered.
“It’s covered in your semen so it’s only fair you get to wash it off,” Rodney told him. “And get it back to me by tomorrow, will you? Freezing to death is not on my schedule for this week.”
Sheppard’s pointy ears turned very bright red and he mumbled something before he hastily disappeared again with Rodney’s sweater in a firm grip.
Rodney didn’t get the fleece back the next day. Sheppard muttered something about not having time for laundry but Rodney found some ratty grey thing that Jackson had left behind so the world wouldn’t have to suffer the loss of his brilliant mind to hypothermia.
It seemed like Air Force Majors were worse at doing laundry than they were at giving blowjobs because Rodney didn’t see the fleece again. Not that it mattered much since they didn’t have many days left before shipping out to Pegasus.
He’d never liked that ghastly colour anyway.
* * *
The fourth time Rodney had sex with Sheppard was in a supply closet in Atlantis. They had just awakened the Wraith, saved a bunch of aliens and, oh yeah, narrowly escaped death by drowning. Rodney really hadn't planned to make a habit out of this, but when Sheppard came back from the rescue mission with the news of Colonel Sumner’s death, he looked so miserable that Rodney couldn't help himself. He led Sheppard into the closet (at least they assumed it was a closet), pressed him up against the wall, kissed him hard and then kneeled down and swallowed his cock.
Sheppard didn't seem so enthusiastic at first, but after Rodney did his patented tongue-swirl he got with the program. Soon, Sheppard was fucking Rodney's mouth while moaning, "Oh yeah, so good, that's... please don't stop, McKay, I..." and then he came hard all over Rodney's tongue, tasting like salt and bitter regret.
* * *
The ninth time Rodney had sex with Sheppard was off-world. Apparently this particular tribe needed proof that the team was human and according to their beliefs, only humans could have orgasms. Rodney spent half an hour trying to convince the chief of the faulty logic in the reasoning until Sheppard sighed and said, “Look, we’re not getting out of it so can we just get it over with?”
No one was confident enough to ask Teyla to perform the ceremony, and poor Ford was so mortified that he probably wouldn’t be able to get it up anyway so it was Rodney and Sheppard who got to stand buck naked on top of a podium and jerk each other off.
“You know,” Sheppard said, far too conversationally for a man who had Rodney’s hand wrapped around his dick. “When General O’Neill told me about how aliens made them do it all the time I thought he was joking.”
That made Rodney think about Sam Carter and what she would’ve done in this situation and after that it was over pretty fast.
Well, at least they were now officially human.
* * *
The twenty-first time Rodney had sex with Sheppard they were in Rodney's bed. Sheppard was lying on his back with his legs spread open and Rodney had two fingers in Sheppard’s ass and his lips wrapped around Sheppard’s twitching cock.
This was a lot nicer than the supply closets, mainly because Rodney got to see Sheppard naked, got to see how his lean muscles moved underneath the skin, got to lick the relief of Sheppard’s hipbone and comb his fingers through the dark hair on Sheppard’s chest. Best of all, he got to see Sheppard come apart completely, moaning and shuddering on the bed. It was probably the best sex Rodney had ever had.
“Rodney, come on,” Sheppard groaned, hands twisting in the sheets.
“Don’t rush me,” Rodney said, crooking his finger to stroke Sheppard’s prostate. “I should get to do whatever I want by the way. You still owe me a sweater.”
“Nnngghh,” Sheppard said and came so hard it striped his cheek.
* * *
The thirty-fifth time Rodney had sex with Sheppard they were both stoned out of their minds from whatever drug the aliens had slipped them. They were supposed to take part in some kind of fertility ceremony (not that Rodney could understand what two guys having sex had to do with fertility but he supposed it was an alien thing).
So Rodney was lying down on the very nice bed in the room the pervy aliens had showed them to. The sheets were a deep orange colour and there were candle light everywhere; it made Sheppard’s - John’s skin glow. Or maybe that was the drugs.
John was straddling Rodney, fucking himself on Rodney’s cock, and it might be the hottest thing Rodney had ever seen, though he had found himself in need to revise that list over and over again since he’d started having sex with John.
“Feels so good Rodney, you feel so good inside me,” John moaned, adding a little twist of his hips to every downstroke. That alone would’ve been enough to drive Rodney out of his mind with lust, but then John’s breath hitched, he reached down to drape the orange sheet over Rodney’s chest and then John clenched hard around his cock and came and came and came. He was completely limp when it was over, sprawled over Rodney, barely conscious and with a big goofy grin on his face. Rodney figured that was a good time to flip John over and fuck him even more senseless so that was what he did.
The aliens were very pleased. They wanted John and Rodney to come back the next time the ritual was to be performed. Rodney wasn’t completely opposed to the idea and John smirked all the way back to the gate.
* * *
The fiftieth time Rodney had sex with John was when the Wraith were coming. They were back in the supply closets - Rodney couldn’t even remember what his bed looked like by then and they both stank of sweat and exhaustion and unholy terror, but John was hot and desperate and alive in Rodney’s arms.
“Fuck me,” John said hoarsely, shoving his pants down and turning his face against the wall. “I need... Rodney please.”
And Rodney wanted nothing more than burying himself inside John’s body and reclaim all the things he’d almost lost, could still lose, but he couldn’t trust himself not to pound the living daylights out of John and there were Wraith coming. He rubbed himself off against John’s ass instead, spurted all over his back and then knelt down to suck his dick. John came with a sob and then pulled Rodney up to kiss him and taste himself on Rodney’s lips.
Rodney was trying to get his legs to stop trembling - too many stimulants and not nearly enough food and rest, and when he reached around John, his fingers found drying stickiness on his skin. “Sorry you have... on your back. I think I’ve got a tissue here somewhere...”
But John stilled his hand, his face pressed into Rodney’s shoulder. The words were muffled by the utterly disgusting shirt Rodney had worn for four days now, but still audible. “No. I want it there.”
And Rodney had no idea what to say about that so instead he kissed John again, kissed him and kissed him until they could no longer ignore the fact that there were still twelve hive ships heading for Atlantis.
* * *
Rodney stopped counting after the sixty-third time. They had just returned from earth with the Daedalus after another narrow escape from certain death and Rodney felt a very strong need to make sure that John was all right and not dying from radiation poisoning or something.
It took only one look to come to the conclusion that John was certainly not suffering from radiation poisoning. Not if the size of his hard on was anything to go on. He was lying down in bed, stark naked, slowly stroking his cock.
Rodney approved. So did Rodney’s dick, which immediately hardened in his pants. That was until he saw what John had wrapped around his hand, the same hand he was using to jerk himself off. Something soft and fuzzy and very very orange.
“That is so wrong,” Rodney said. His voice did not at all resemble a squeak. And if it did, it was a manly squeak.
John looked up at him from half-lidded eyes. That was the same slack-faced look of pleasure he’d had in the supply closet at McMurdo when he’d...
“Oh my god. You have a fleece fetish!”
“It took you this long to figure out?” John drawled, reaching back to finger his own ass.
"You are a sick, sick man," Rodney said.
John wiggled his eyebrows. "Wanna put it on?" he asked. "Or maybe you'd prefer it on me?"
Rodney’s mind conjured up a very vivid vision of John wearing nothing but the fleece, his red cock straining up from the nest of curls between his legs. Rodney’s own dick approved of that image as well.
“Traitor,” he told it.
But his dick seemed to be pretty interested in making the vision come true, and Rodney’s cock had (almost) never led him wrong before so he went to join John on the bed. It was possible he might be developing a little fetish of his own.
-fin-
*runs away and hides*