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Title: Early Birds
Author name: Icarus
Author email: firstname.lastname@example.org
Sub Category: Porn
Summary: It was the only Rodney could get John to bottom.
DISCLAIMER: The characters and universe contained in this story are Copyright MGM, Showtime, Gekko, Double Secret. No infringement on their copyright is implied. Copyright © 2006 All rights reserved. This story may not be reproduced in whole or part without the author's explicit permission. Ask, guys. I'm easy to reach and usually quite generous.
Author notes: Thank you to Amothea for the late beta review and many pleasant chats. This was written as a gift-fic for Cyanne, my SGA dealer.
A wash of bluish morning light filtered through the stained-glass windows that John always insisted be left open, the waves a distant steady rhythm below. The lack of seagulls marked it as Atlantis and not some random ocean resort. The morning birds clicked to each other, fluttering out of sight above the window. It didn't take them long to find Atlantis. During the day the ground felt solid; only when one lay still did one feel this subtle rocking motion, as if Atlantis somehow breathed.
John's uniform was draped neatly over a chair alongside his open backpack, while Rodney's clothes… t-shirt, pants, underwear… were abandoned on the floor. The photo of his cat was still askew from when John had asked about her, picking it up; for someone who avoided casual touching he was surprisingly tactile.
John cuddled deeper under Rodney's comforter with a small satisfied sigh that evened out into soft breathing, lips slightly parted. Rodney studied him thoughtfully.
The first slide of Rodney's palm down his smooth side made John edge away, brows drawing together in a frown, his mouth a sleepy pout. He was ticklish there when he was awake. Under the covers, Rodney found the hard line of his rather boney hipbone and traced it, curving around to cup his ass, and John relaxed.
Sheets whispering, Rodney leaned up, his elbow denting the pillow, watching cautiously as John unconsciously moved over to give him more room. He was generous in his sleep. Rodney amused himself thinking his cat could probably make him roll out of bed.
His hand continued to smooth circles over John's ass, massaging, dipping down between his thighs, along his perineum, then sliding up to his balls, his hair coarse and damp from the too-hot down. John's breathing hitched, became deeper and more audible. His chest rose and fell in time with Rodney's touch as he massaged, feeling John's soft cock.
Then, inconveniently, John rolled onto his back, a knee raised. His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed.
With a wry snort Rodney retreated, fingers carding pleasantly through the hair on the back of John's leg, gliding along the line where it joined his round ass, then up to the back of his knee. He traced the line of hard muscle across the top and then back down to his inner thigh. He deepened the strokes, paused to explore the smooth patch between his legs, almost to his cock, and then returned.
John sniffed, his breathing seeming too quiet, and Rodney looked up to find a faint glimmer of slit-eyes blinking at him, bleary and uncomprehending. Rodney had learned that "eyes open" didn't necessarily mean he was awake. John could give orders in his sleep in a ringing clear voice, and only the fact that those orders made no sense whatsoever gave him away. It was weird and John never believed him in the morning.
The thigh nearest Rodney slowly fell open, inviting, and Rodney curved around underneath and cupped John's balls and his soft cock with a gentle squeeze. He edged closer, his breath coming short, feeling John's cock swell into a smooth mound under his palm. He stopped before John was fully hard. He'd learned that if he moved too quickly, if he woke John up now, he'd find himself tumbled onto his back, John growling into the crook of his neck, all his plans spoiled. Not that being taken, fast and hard, wasn't nice too. He ran one hand up through the trail of hair on John's stomach while he slipped down to feel his ass.
Sure enough, John responded, rolling back onto his side as he pressed his ass into Rodney's hand with a comfortable sigh. Jackpot.
One hand on a pert cheek, Rodney precariously stretched for the lube on the end table… but couldn't… quite… reach. He made a swipe and knocked it with a clatter onto the floor. He reluctantly gave up on his grip and leaned over the edge of the bed, flailing along the dark cold tiles till he found it.
"You know, you just have to ask," John said, voice low, wry and sleep-soaked.
He sniffed and stretched, running the back of his hand across his face like a nine-year-old, clearing his throat. There was a pattern of red indented lines from the pillow along his cheek and he was thoroughly mussed, dark hair flattened to one side.
Rodney shut his eyes and rolled back up to the bed. "Shhh… I know you better than that, trust me."
John raised his eyebrows doubtfully, blinking at Rodney in a wash of soft daylight that traced his cheekbone.
"Go back to sleep. And, and-- be relaxed." Rodney fluttered his fingers at him.
"Mmkay." John's smile was small and pleased, puffy eyes barely open as he rolled back to his side with a lazy grunt. He kicked the comforter off with an annoyed yank.
Seconds passed as Rodney spread the lube on his hands, warming it carefully.
"Hurry up, McKay…." John complained, voice muffled in the pillow. He squirmed visibly under the sheets.
"Now see? That's why I sneak up on you."
"I wanna get fucked," John whined.
Rodney paused, mouth open comically. "Uh."
"I like it when you do this."
With alacrity Rodney spooned up behind John, scrabbling the sheets out of the way. A reach-around found John hard as a rock. "But you're more cooperative when you're asleep," he explained.
"I'm never asleep."
"And I, um, I feel more…." Rodney said with rueful honestly, waving his other hand to fill in the blanks.
"I know. I'll go back to sleep, I promise." He added, "I'll even snore if you like," and Rodney could hear the smile in his voice.
"You don't snore."
"Really?" John pulled his arm away from his face, lifting his head up in boyish surprise. His hair looked even more absurd with that expression.
"I've never heard you, although truthfully I'd probably sleep right through it anyway-- and you are aware that you've completely spoiled the mood?" Rodney sighed.
"Hey, I'm not the one who dropped the lube," John growled. "And I'm still in the mood." He arched his back and rolled onto his stomach, the sheet sliding down to expose a well-muscled back, the cotton dipping between the cheeks of his ass. "So fuck me already."
Rodney swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "Right."
He clambered on top feeling awkward as John spread his thighs, allowing Rodney's cock to slide between them.
Rodney cupped an arm around his waist as John arched toward him, and he couldn't resist squeezing along John's ribs, just under the arms. With an incoherent yelp John rolled them both sideways, curled up and squirming with laughter.
"Ah, stop! That doesn't tickle, I'm not ticklish, no - stop, stop, stop!" he said through Rodney's maniacal snickering as Rodney struggled to hang on. "Rodney," he gasped through gritted teeth, "I will hurt you!"
Rodney relented and bit his shoulder, his arm more mercifully wrapped around John's chest as his breathing slowly settled, back heaving. He could feel the pounding of his heart under his hand, his body pressed tight against John's back. He traced a slick finger down the crack of his ass, slowly working his way in.
Oh yes, he'd paid the price, John had tightened up, but it was worth it to feel John's laugh against bare skin, his body still shaking beneath him. Rodney grinned and reached for the lube, letting it trickle down. He knew how that felt, the smooth tease of warm oil.
John shut his eyes and sighed, legs opening warily.
Inside, John was slick and smooth. His eyes were half-lidded and he licked his lips, and lifted up, pressing back.
Rodney's mouth made an 'o' as he circled his fingers, teasing the top edge of his hole where he knew John was particularly sensitive, and felt him rock back on his fingers, head tipped forward. John grunted, low and guttural, and Rodney bit his lower lip as he held his cock in position and pressed, feeling that shaky exhale John made under the strain, trying to take him, to relax, his back taut and hands gripping the pillow. His breath turned to a long moan as Rodney sank all the way in and held it there, chin raised.
"Oh, you're so good," Rodney said.
And he knew he should finesse this, but John could take it hard and oh, god, had it been a month? John's legs spread a little wider as he lifted off the mattress and Rodney's arm tucked around his flat stomach, seizing him, his only warning.
Strong hands scrabbled to grab the headboard as Rodney grit his teeth and slammed home, gasping, John's ass tight and unyielding for a moment, then as he slammed in again it bloomed open under him, sliding in easily, John's musky scent spiking, sharp and clean. His cock felt so huge moving inside John as he panted into the back of his neck, and he wasn't going to last long, less as John bucked back against him, his voice hoarse and incoherent. Rodney gasp was half moan and half sigh as he gripped John with bruising force, vision whiting out, spiraling away in freefall.
He slumped onto John's back. John never came from being fucked though it got him close. Rodney was always useless at this point. He was half-alert as John tipped them sideways, his arm moving under Rodney's loose grasp over his shoulder. He lazily felt the sweat start on the back of John's neck, the muscles of his arm shifting as his hand moved rapidly. The near-silent shudder as John curled forward, mouth open, eyes squeezed shut… then he sagged, boneless and languid, breathing hard.
His hair was soft, damp and sweaty under the press of Rodney's forehead, and Rodney smiled into the back of his neck, nuzzling closer, taking advantage of a few moments of cuddling while John recovered. Then John rolled onto his back, still panting, and grinned at the ceiling with a victorious little laugh. "Whew!"
They beamed stupidly at each other.
John's face was still puffy with sleep and his normally narrow eyes were practically Chinese slits. He lay back with one arm sprawled over his head, a knuckle tracing idle patterns on the pillowcase, utterly relaxed in a way no one else got to see John Sheppard.
"When you do that…." He finished the sentence with a shake of his head and a breath of laughter, still grinning.
Rodney leaned up on elbow, curious about his handiwork. "Which part?"
"That whole 'sneak attack' thing." His smile deepened as he stretched, looking for all the world like a flirtatious and very naughty boy. He shut his eyes blissfully. "It's, ah…."
"Hotter?" Rodney finished for him.
John shrugged, his eyes shining at Rodney. "Well, I was going to say easier, but yeah, that too."
He sat up naked in Rodney's bed and had already tucked his radio over one ear, tapping it, probably the security team's channel. He always checked in with them first.
Rodney complained in a hiss, "Would five more minutes kill you?"
John leaned closer, cupping a hand behind the back of his neck. "You can sleep late. I have to work."
Rodney started to answer but John put a finger to Rodney's lips and nodded sharply, "Sheppard here." His voice was low and official as he almost kept a straight face, slanting a glance at Rodney who rolled a pillow over his head.
"Just tell me the city's still standing and you'll make me a happy commander." There was a pause. "Well, now, that's good to hear … I sound what? Oh, um, yeah, went for a run… brutal pace," he joked and punched Rodney's shoulder playfully. "Be there at 0730. Sheppard out." John stood and picked up his underwear from the chair. Weirdly, John had folded it.
Rodney huffed, sitting up in bed. "I hate your job."
"Yeah, well, I wouldn't want to wear a gay pride pin anyway. Pink's not my color," John said mildly, pulling his undershirt over his head and tucking his dogtags underneath.
"They're rainbow-colored and I don't care about the secrecy, everything I've ever worked on has been a secret; I just despise your hours. You know, you can use my shower," he offered.
"Better I don't get caught coming out of here with wet hair," John said, jumping in place as he pulled on his sweats. "And I promise, I'll bring you some coffee at break."
"Hmm. You'd better, or I might just blow up our fair city from sheer exhaustion. Itty bitty pieces sinking to the bottom of the ocean, picture it. And it will be entirely your fault." As John put on his running shoes Rodney grabbed the life signs detector from the bedside table, scanning it, his eyes sharp and business-like. "We've got two coming our way from the south corridor, give it a sec."
John nodded, bent over as he pulled up his socks.
"What are we going to do when they finish the subcu transmitters?" Rodney asked, his face worried as he glanced between John and the life signs detector.
John wagged his forefinger. "Now that's something you're gonna solve."
"Of course. Luckily for you, you're with a genius, otherwise your love life would be doomed by these military precau-- okay," Rodney's eyes focused on the read-outs, interrupting himself. He snapped his fingers and pointed. "You're good… now."
But John hovered in the doorway. "See you tonight, maybe?"
"Greedy," Rodney said, hiding a smile before he looked up, blinking at him. "I've a card game with Carson and a few of the scientists, but after ten -- I mean, 2200?"
"I know what ten o'clock is," John said. But he lit up with a grin and skipped out the door backwards, head bobbing as he glanced around the hallway carefully -- as if the life signs detector could have missed something. Rodney rolled his eyes; John never had his faith in technology. Then John leaned back in, his hair a mess, five o'clock shadow the worst Rodney had ever seen, and said in a hoarse voice, eyes gleaming, "And you're on."