Birthday porn for Bluespirit!
It's bluespirit_star's birthday and it must be celebrated! *many many hugs*
Title: After
Author: Zinnith
Wordcount: ~1300
Pairing: John/Rodney
Rating: R
Summary: In which there are tired, naked boys and a hot shower but sadly no big red bows.
Notes: This was originally meant to be a scene in the SGA Big Bang of yesteryear that never saw the light of day. However, depriving the public of shower sex would be a crime, so I rewrote it for Bluespirit. I hope you're having a wonderful day!
They walked to John’s quarters in silence, both too exhausted to say anything. Once inside, John sank down on the bed and considered the machinations of getting out of his filthy clothes and into the shower. Boots. He should probably start with the boots.
Rodney dug into his pocket and held out the pills Keller had pushed on them. “Will you take these now? Jennifer said...”
John shook his head. “Shower first.” He knew that as soon as he took the damn pills he’d be out for the count and he’d been looking forward to that shower for hours now.
“All right,” Rodney began to pull his shirt over his head. John saw the bruises that marred his arms and back and winced in sympathy. “Let’s get you into the shower and then into bed.”
“I can shower by myself, Rodney,” John said, bending over to untie his boots. It hurt badly enough to bring tears to his eyes and he quickly wiped them away so Rodney wouldn’t see.
“I’m sure you can.” Rodney unbuckled his belt and let the dusty pants slide down to the floor. “You can also slip on the wet tile and crack your head open and I think we have enough of our people in the infirmary right now, thank you. Besides, I want a shower too and I’m too tired to go back to my place. If you absolutely have to be macho and pretend you’re not in pain, we can just call it conserving hot water, hmm?”
John toed the boots off and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at his socks. He really didn’t feel like bending over again. Maybe if he rubbed his feet together...used his toes. A chimpanzee could’ve done it, so there was no reason why John couldn’t manage. No matter what Rodney said, he was way smarter than the average monkey.
“Oh, for Christ's sake.” Rodney sighed and then kneeled in front of John, pulling his socks off and throwing them aside with a disgusted grimace. “Come on. Clothes off and then into the shower, I don’t have all day.”
“Geez, McKay, impatient much?” John didn't say anything about the fact that Rodney was more or less naked. Being naked together with Rodney was a good thing and it didn't happen nearly often enough.
The ruined, muddy shirt and BDU pants ended up on the floor together with his underwear, and then he managed to stumble into the shower with Rodney’s help. The first touch of hot water against his skin was heaven, as was washing away all the sand and dust and dirt that he’d accumulated over the past 48 hours. He just stood there, leaning his hands against the wall for balance, his eyes closed, letting the water beat down on his neck.
“Shampoo,” Rodney said, stepping into the spray together with him. “Shampoo and soap, and lots of it. Will you look at that water? I hope this won’t clog the drain because I’m so not up for any plumbing tonight.”
John blearily opened his eyes and saw, through the steam that had already begun to fill the shower stall, how the water that ran off their bodies was light brown with dirt.
"I hate mud," he said to no one in particular.
"Yes, mud is very bad," Rodney agreed with the patient tone of someone who was talking to a very small child or a mentally deficient person. “How about washing your hair now?”
“Sure.” John reached for the shampoo and squirted some into his hand, but found that he couldn’t lift his arms over his head. Damn ribs. “Uh... Rodney?”
“What? Oh, right. Here, let me.”
Rodney took the bottle from him and gently began to massage the shampoo into his hair. John closed his eyes, revelling in the feeling of Rodney’s fingertips rubbing circles over his scalp. He’d never let anyone do this before, but for some reason, it was completely natural to let Rodney come this close. He’d never considered having someone wash his hair an erotic experience, but he found himself getting hard and when he pressed back against Rodney’s solid bulk, he could feel Rodney’s erection against the back of his thigh.
“Huh,” he murmured. “I’m too tired for this.” Far too tired. But it was so nice, just standing here, having Rodney touch him.
“You don’t mean that,” came Rodney’s sarcastic reply. “Soap.”
John reached for it and handed the bottle over and Rodney began running his hands all over John’s body, mindful of all the cuts and bruises and the cracked ribs. Soft firm touches, over his arms and chest, down between his legs, his thighs. John spread his legs, wanting Rodney to touch him there, and he felt Rodney’s gasp in his ear.
“Too tired, remember?” Rodney said quietly, but the insistent poking of hard flesh against his ass told another story.
“Far too tired,” John agreed, grasped Rodney’s hand and guided it to where he wanted it, soapy and slick around his dick.
“If you fall over and hurt yourself I cannot be held responsible for the consequences.”
“Sure,” John said, pressing back and then forward into Rodney’s tight fist. He leaned his head back to rest on Rodney’s shoulder, let Rodney take most of his weight and just concentrated on the water washing away the mud and dirt and awful memories of being trapped and alone while Rodney’s fingers were touching him just right and Rodney’s cock was rubbing against his ass.
He’d promised himself to stop this and he would, but not right now. Right now he needed, couldn’t possibly come up with a way to hold himself back from this. Rodney mouthed kisses over his neck and jaw and then did that thing with his fingers around the head of John’s cock that never failed to make him come his brains out. He spurted over Rodney’s hand and felt himself sag and go limp. Rodney’s strong body was the only thing that held him up while he found his legs again, and when he had recovered enough to think, he could feel Rodney still moving against him, a little bit more frantic now.
“John...” Rodney murmured against his shoulder. “Please, I need...”
“Yeah,” John sighed, letting his knees take his weight again and leaning forward so he could support himself against the wall. “Yeah, okay. Come on.”
The sound Rodney made was very close to a whimper and he wrapped his arms around John’s chest, not so tight that it hurt his ribs, but firm and warm and safe. John pressed back against Rodney, shifted so that Rodney’s cock was sliding between his cheeks. Rodney’s breath was hot and laboured in his ear, and when he came it was with a full-body shudder.
They stood like that for a moment, panting, letting the water rinse them clean. Rodney didn’t let go and while John didn’t mind being held, not like this, not right now, he had the feeling that if they didn’t get out of the shower and dried up and got into bed, he’d fall asleep right here.
“Rodney...” he began.
“Shut up,” Rodney said, not ungently. “Twelve hours, John. That’s how long you were gone and we had no idea where you were. And when we finally found you, it took another hour to get you out of that hole. I think I’m entitled to feel a little clingy.”
John didn’t protest. To be completely honest, he was feeling a little clingy himself. They stayed until the water turned cold and Rodney finally could make himself loosen the grip.
- fin -
Title: After
Author: Zinnith
Wordcount: ~1300
Pairing: John/Rodney
Rating: R
Summary: In which there are tired, naked boys and a hot shower but sadly no big red bows.
Notes: This was originally meant to be a scene in the SGA Big Bang of yesteryear that never saw the light of day. However, depriving the public of shower sex would be a crime, so I rewrote it for Bluespirit. I hope you're having a wonderful day!
They walked to John’s quarters in silence, both too exhausted to say anything. Once inside, John sank down on the bed and considered the machinations of getting out of his filthy clothes and into the shower. Boots. He should probably start with the boots.
Rodney dug into his pocket and held out the pills Keller had pushed on them. “Will you take these now? Jennifer said...”
John shook his head. “Shower first.” He knew that as soon as he took the damn pills he’d be out for the count and he’d been looking forward to that shower for hours now.
“All right,” Rodney began to pull his shirt over his head. John saw the bruises that marred his arms and back and winced in sympathy. “Let’s get you into the shower and then into bed.”
“I can shower by myself, Rodney,” John said, bending over to untie his boots. It hurt badly enough to bring tears to his eyes and he quickly wiped them away so Rodney wouldn’t see.
“I’m sure you can.” Rodney unbuckled his belt and let the dusty pants slide down to the floor. “You can also slip on the wet tile and crack your head open and I think we have enough of our people in the infirmary right now, thank you. Besides, I want a shower too and I’m too tired to go back to my place. If you absolutely have to be macho and pretend you’re not in pain, we can just call it conserving hot water, hmm?”
John toed the boots off and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at his socks. He really didn’t feel like bending over again. Maybe if he rubbed his feet together...used his toes. A chimpanzee could’ve done it, so there was no reason why John couldn’t manage. No matter what Rodney said, he was way smarter than the average monkey.
“Oh, for Christ's sake.” Rodney sighed and then kneeled in front of John, pulling his socks off and throwing them aside with a disgusted grimace. “Come on. Clothes off and then into the shower, I don’t have all day.”
“Geez, McKay, impatient much?” John didn't say anything about the fact that Rodney was more or less naked. Being naked together with Rodney was a good thing and it didn't happen nearly often enough.
The ruined, muddy shirt and BDU pants ended up on the floor together with his underwear, and then he managed to stumble into the shower with Rodney’s help. The first touch of hot water against his skin was heaven, as was washing away all the sand and dust and dirt that he’d accumulated over the past 48 hours. He just stood there, leaning his hands against the wall for balance, his eyes closed, letting the water beat down on his neck.
“Shampoo,” Rodney said, stepping into the spray together with him. “Shampoo and soap, and lots of it. Will you look at that water? I hope this won’t clog the drain because I’m so not up for any plumbing tonight.”
John blearily opened his eyes and saw, through the steam that had already begun to fill the shower stall, how the water that ran off their bodies was light brown with dirt.
"I hate mud," he said to no one in particular.
"Yes, mud is very bad," Rodney agreed with the patient tone of someone who was talking to a very small child or a mentally deficient person. “How about washing your hair now?”
“Sure.” John reached for the shampoo and squirted some into his hand, but found that he couldn’t lift his arms over his head. Damn ribs. “Uh... Rodney?”
“What? Oh, right. Here, let me.”
Rodney took the bottle from him and gently began to massage the shampoo into his hair. John closed his eyes, revelling in the feeling of Rodney’s fingertips rubbing circles over his scalp. He’d never let anyone do this before, but for some reason, it was completely natural to let Rodney come this close. He’d never considered having someone wash his hair an erotic experience, but he found himself getting hard and when he pressed back against Rodney’s solid bulk, he could feel Rodney’s erection against the back of his thigh.
“Huh,” he murmured. “I’m too tired for this.” Far too tired. But it was so nice, just standing here, having Rodney touch him.
“You don’t mean that,” came Rodney’s sarcastic reply. “Soap.”
John reached for it and handed the bottle over and Rodney began running his hands all over John’s body, mindful of all the cuts and bruises and the cracked ribs. Soft firm touches, over his arms and chest, down between his legs, his thighs. John spread his legs, wanting Rodney to touch him there, and he felt Rodney’s gasp in his ear.
“Too tired, remember?” Rodney said quietly, but the insistent poking of hard flesh against his ass told another story.
“Far too tired,” John agreed, grasped Rodney’s hand and guided it to where he wanted it, soapy and slick around his dick.
“If you fall over and hurt yourself I cannot be held responsible for the consequences.”
“Sure,” John said, pressing back and then forward into Rodney’s tight fist. He leaned his head back to rest on Rodney’s shoulder, let Rodney take most of his weight and just concentrated on the water washing away the mud and dirt and awful memories of being trapped and alone while Rodney’s fingers were touching him just right and Rodney’s cock was rubbing against his ass.
He’d promised himself to stop this and he would, but not right now. Right now he needed, couldn’t possibly come up with a way to hold himself back from this. Rodney mouthed kisses over his neck and jaw and then did that thing with his fingers around the head of John’s cock that never failed to make him come his brains out. He spurted over Rodney’s hand and felt himself sag and go limp. Rodney’s strong body was the only thing that held him up while he found his legs again, and when he had recovered enough to think, he could feel Rodney still moving against him, a little bit more frantic now.
“John...” Rodney murmured against his shoulder. “Please, I need...”
“Yeah,” John sighed, letting his knees take his weight again and leaning forward so he could support himself against the wall. “Yeah, okay. Come on.”
The sound Rodney made was very close to a whimper and he wrapped his arms around John’s chest, not so tight that it hurt his ribs, but firm and warm and safe. John pressed back against Rodney, shifted so that Rodney’s cock was sliding between his cheeks. Rodney’s breath was hot and laboured in his ear, and when he came it was with a full-body shudder.
They stood like that for a moment, panting, letting the water rinse them clean. Rodney didn’t let go and while John didn’t mind being held, not like this, not right now, he had the feeling that if they didn’t get out of the shower and dried up and got into bed, he’d fall asleep right here.
“Rodney...” he began.
“Shut up,” Rodney said, not ungently. “Twelve hours, John. That’s how long you were gone and we had no idea where you were. And when we finally found you, it took another hour to get you out of that hole. I think I’m entitled to feel a little clingy.”
John didn’t protest. To be completely honest, he was feeling a little clingy himself. They stayed until the water turned cold and Rodney finally could make himself loosen the grip.
- fin -