Title: Alien Jelly Made Them Do It, 3/5
Pairing: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Rating: NC-17 overall
Feedback/Concrit: darkhavens @ slashverse.com
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. No harm, no foul, no money made.
Summary: Alien Jelly Made Them Do It
Notes: Written for stagesoflove 2006, Round 2, 'Five Stages of Sexual Arousal', stage #3 Plateau of Arousal.
Also posted here.
Stage #1 - Desire, stage #2 - Excitement.
Rodney arched beneath John's weight and hooked an ankle behind his knee, forcing their bodies even closer together. He groaned as one of John's hands slipped down to investigate his balls.
"Oh! Oh, please, yes! Just… Just there, that's…!"
He whined embarrassingly loud and bore down onto John's fingers. And then he froze. "Dammit! Lube! No lube!" One hand came up to bat ineffectually at John's shoulder, trying to dislodge his mouth from the spot on his neck that was being sucked very enthusiastically.
John pulled free with a loud wet pop.
"Rodney, fuck now, talk later."
"But… Sunscreen! I… There's some in my tac vest, we could…"
They both angled their heads to look at the vest lying just inside the door, ten feet - a thousand miles - out of arm's reach.
"Yeah, not happening." John's mouth twisted up into a wicked little smirk. "We'll improvise."
With impressive speed and agility, John rearranged them both so that chests, legs, cocks were aligned. Levering himself up on one elbow, he grabbed a handful of the fruity little cubes and plopped them down on Rodney's chest.
Before the impromptu platter had the presence of mind to complain, the cubes were softening and spreading across his skin. Rodney blinked, sniffed, grinned and then frowned.
"I hope you don't think I'm letting you put that…"
John gave a sharp bark of laughter and then hungrily kissed him into submission and silence, simultaneously swiping his hand through the body-warmed gelatinous gloop.
The hot, slippery hand that wrapped around his - their - cocks left Rodney boneless and totally incoherent.
John kept up a slow, rhythmic stroke, scattering kisses over every inch of Rodney's skin that he could reach. Rodney in turn ran his hands from John's scalp to his nape, swept down over the prominent knobs of his spine and scratched short nails along his flanks. And then he retraced the route, back and forth, head to thigh and back again, in counterpoint to John's slipslidetwist.
Once, twice, three times in slow succession John brought them both to the frantic edge of orgasm before easing them back with a lighter, calmer, gentling touch.
The faintest fingers of dawn's light were pushing through the loosely woven curtains before John finally let them tip over the edge into a bone-melting climax.