Title: Out of Time
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Rating: NC-17 for graphic sex
Feedback/Concrit: darkhavens @ slashverse.com
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. No harm, no foul, no money made.
Warnings/Squicks: bug!Sheppard. Mention of unusual blue body parts. Sexual coercion but not rape.
Summary: John corners Rodney and gives him what he wants. And then gives him something more.
Notes: Written for slashfest, round IV, for sandrine, who requested "Conversion fic. Sheppard is under the influence of the virus and corners Rodney. No established relationship, no rape!fic."
Out of Time
Rodney had no idea how long John had been standing just inside the closed door of the darkened lab watching him, but the vaguely irritating itch between his shoulder blades had been there for quite a while.
It was only when he turned from the computer to go to bed that he noticed his silent audience lurking in the shadows.
Something Elizabeth had mentioned earlier flashed into his head, and Rodney took a tiny step back, hip bumping against the chair he'd just vacated.
"Aren't you-" Rodney paused as John took a step in his direction. "You're supposed to be in your room under guard. Elizabeth said you'd made the arrangements yourself. It's… Did something happen?"
He lifted one slightly unsteady hand to tap his radio, and that moment of less than total focus on Sheppard proved to be his undoing. John was across the room and snatching the radio out of his ear before Rodney's fingers actually made contact.
With a casual flick of John's wrist, it went spinning off into the shadows, skittering under a console out of Rodney's direct line of sight. Not that Rodney was given the chance to see where it landed because, as soon as it was airborne, John was shoving Rodney up against the wall between two racks of Ancient tech, pinning his wrists against the wall at shoulder height and leaning in close.
The incongruity of the greeting was almost enough to make Rodney laugh out loud, but the disturbing gleam in Sheppard's inhuman eye kept him silent and very very still. John didn't seem to mind.
"You haven't been to visit me, Rodney." He pouted. "That's not nice."
"Of course I came to see you! I… Just…" Rodney shrugged, or tried to - John's grip on his wrists kept him from giving much more than a twitch. "It was late. You were asleep."
John smirked and took half a step closer, sliding a foot in between Rodney's to bring them fully into contact, pressed together from chest to knee.
"Three days, Rodney. You haven't visited me for three days. They let me move back to my own room and you still didn't come."
John pushed his face into the angle between Rodney's jaw and neck and sniffed. Rodney most definitely didn't squeak as the rough, alien skin scratched across his own.
"I missed the way you smell around me." John breathed deep and then exhaled on a replete sigh. "You smell so good, Rodney. When you're like this I could eat you up."
Rodney stared raptly - a mongoose hypnotised by a snake - at the grey blue skin that covered John's throat and part of his face, at the vertical slits of pupil in the altered sickly yellow of his irises. A tiny corner of his brain wondered absently how far south the colour might have spread, and if the ridges and bumps that marched up John's neck had marched down as well.
As Rodney's dick gave an involuntary twitch, John chuckled and licked a broad wet stripe up Rodney's jugular.
"Is that why you stopped sneaking in after lights out in the infirmary? Were you afraid I'd figure out just how sick and twisted you really are?"
The words were harsh but John's teeth on Rodney's earlobe were - relatively - gentle. The grind of his pelvis against Rodney's was anything but.
"Wanna fuck the alien, Rodney? Wanna get fucked by the big blue bug that's taking over my body? Because he wants to fuck you, Rodney, he really does."
"No! No, I-"
John's teeth clamped down on the tendon just below Rodney's ear.
"Liar. I could smell you. I could practically taste the fuck-me pheromones on the air. Every time you went scurrying past my door like you thought I might jump out and gobble you up, I-" John paused and ostentatiously sniffed the air. "Oh yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" He eased back, caught Rodney's gaze and licked his lips with an incongruously pink tongue. "Would you beg?"
A response was apparently unnecessary as John leaned in again and brushed his lips - blue-tinged and slightly roughened - back and forth across Rodney's.
Rodney sighed, a sound that carried with it the last tattered remnants of his dignity and willpower, and then unclenched his jaw and let John in, head rocking back against the wall under the sudden pressure.
It took him a moment to realise that his hands were free, but once he did, he wasted no time in reaching out and grabbing John's hips, grounding himself, clinging on to something he'd only ever dreamed of.
John grabbed a fistful of Rodney's hair in his left hand while his right landed low on Rodney's thigh. It inched upwards slowly, over hip and belly, torso and nipples, only stopping when it finally reached Rodney's throat.
His thumb, grey blue and tipped by a thick, black, viciously hooked nail, pressed into the sweat-dampened hollow beneath Rodney's Adam's apple. Rodney swallowed hard under the pressure but didn't struggle.
John hummed happily into the kiss and tightened his grip just a little, revelling in the quickening of Rodney's pulse and the hardening of his cock. He pulled back to watch as Rodney's eyelids fluttered shut.
"Sick and twisted and aaall mine."
Releasing his grip on Rodney's hair John shifted his pink, still human hand down to trace the curve of Rodney's ass, to drag a streak of pure sensation over his hip and across his belly to palm the undeniable thickness of Rodney's cock.
"Why, Doctor McKay," John batted his eyelashes coquettishly, grotesquely glorious, "you really do like me!" He grinned then, feral and fearsome. "I guess that means you're not going to fight me when I bend you over and fuck you till you scream."
The word 'fight' resonated in Rodney's sex-addled brain until his thoughts coalesced into vague coherency.
"You… Where are your guards, John? Did they… fight?"
Fly button and zip gave way to John's questing fingers as he studied Rodney's worried, cautious expression.
"If I told you that I'd killed them to get to you, I wonder - would it freak you out completely or get you hotter?"
Rodney's cock twitched in John's grasp as he swallowed back a heavy groan of desperation and self-loathing.
"Guess that answers that question."
John gave the hot column of flesh a tight squeeze and Rodney whined.
"They're unconscious in my room right now, but I could kill them later."
A heavy silence hung over them both as Rodney tried to read the degree of seriousness in John's inhuman eyes. It was impossible.
"That's… That won't be necessary, but thanks anywa- Ah!"
Rodney choked on the words as John gave a hard tug on his cock, all thought blanked out as he thrust up into that ruthless, twisting grasp, each stroke dragging out another breathless moan after the last.
Through it all, John's other, more alien, hand remained curled tight around the base of Rodney's throat, powerful gnarled thumb pressing firmly into every broken sound. It seemed to go on forever.
When John stopped working Rodney's flesh, stopped stealing Rodney's breath with ravenous kisses and pulled back to let cool night air come between them, Rodney whined and tried to reel him back in, tugging ineffectually at narrow bony hips.
When John still didn't move, Rodney whined again.
His whine cut off abruptly by the order, Rodney frowned.
"Turn around, Rodney, now."
Rodney turned, automatically lifting his hands to brace himself against the lab wall.
Quick, eager and efficient, John yanked Rodney's pants and boxers down, tugging off Rodney's shoes to leave him naked from the waist down.
Faced with Rodney's naked ass, the temptation was irresistible. John palmed the firm buttocks and sank his teeth deep into first one and then the other, leaving twin circlets of rapidly purpling flesh. Slowly, he worked his way back up Rodney's spine, nips and sucks and open-mouthed bites marking his trail. He took detours around the curve of Rodney's hip, the subtle lines of his ribs, and paused to tease and taste every single vertebra he could find.
Rodney pushed back into each caress, an almost imperceptible tremble rippling endlessly through his frame.
When sharp teeth began gnawing at the points of his scapulae, Rodney's wrists became too shaky, too weak, to maintain his pose. He shifted slightly, laid his forearms flat against the wall and layered his hands one on top of the other, head dropping down to rest his forehead on their suddenly vital support. The change in stance pushed his hips back against John's and they both groaned.
Fumbling in his pants pocket for the lube he'd nearly left forgotten in his bedside table drawer, John realised that Rodney was muttering broken phrases into the pale skin on the back of his hand.
"- stupid, McKay, unbelievably stupid -- no longer capable of differentiating between fantasy and reality -- padded room -- applesauce and anti-psychotics-"
Chest shaking with suppressed laughter, John slicked the fingers of his pink left hand and drew them down between the taut cheeks of Rodney's ass, pushing in and up. He grinned sharply at the way Rodney's back arched in supplication, trying to take them deeper even as he continued to berate himself.
"- tactile hallucinations of the erotic kind -- knew you'd come unstuck one day, touching things you've got no business touching without someone else around to make sure you're not infected or imploded or… Oh, God, y-!"
Rodney's full body shudder confirmed to John that he had managed to locate his prostate, and he spent a few long minutes teasing Rodney into frenzied babbling. Once he'd been reduced to a broken chant of "John! John, please. God, John-" John withdrew his fingers and reached down to free his own cock from the confines of his pants.
The faint blue-grey striations on the turgid flesh stood out starkly against the pale skin of his hand. John took a moment to squeeze and tug his dark blue, now hairless balls, still not completely convinced that they were his until the wave of sensation told him otherwise.
There was a split second of lucidity right then when John could have pulled back, could have shouted at Rodney to run for safety, but he hesitated, eyes on the deep shadowed cleft between Rodney's buttocks, and then the chance, ephemeral as it was, was gone.
John kicked Rodney's feet a little further apart and stepped closer, his colourful cock nudging up against Rodney's perineum. When Rodney tried to push back, to impale himself, John's fingers bit deep into the flesh at his hips. He held Rodney in place until he finally stopped struggling against the merciless grip, and then John leaned in, bringing his lips to the curve of Rodney's ear.
"You're not hallucinating, Rodney; you're not crazy. This really is me about to fuck you. I don't know why I didn't do this sooner. You’re so damn hot and eager like this, begging for it."
He closed his teeth on Rodney's earlobe hard enough to bruise.
"I'm not going to give you what you want until you tell me that you know this is real, this is really me."
Rodney whispered into the back of his hand, forehead leaving damp, sweaty streaks on the wall as he nodded. John wasn't satisfied.
"Say it, or I'll tuck my pretty blue cock back in my pants and leave you here to jerk off by yourself. I'll go back to my room and I'll never touch you like this again."
At the taunting words 'pretty blue cock,' Rodney groaned and began fighting once again to shove himself back onto John's waiting erection.
Frantic words and fragmented sentences tumbled from his lips- "Real! Real, God, John, you're… Now, please! Please, now, John, so blue… Real! Promise, please, just-"
The pleas grew ever more insistent as John held himself back, knowing all the while that he would never have carried out the wild threat to walk away. Rodney, spread open and begging, was too delicious to resist.
"Now! John… Please, John, now!"
Rodney practically sobbed with relief as John eased his slick, blue and subtly ribbed cock into Rodney's welcoming body, only stopping when there was nowhere left to go.
They each released a shaky sigh as they savoured being so closely connected - filled and enveloped - and then John's iron-willed control finally snapped and he began to move in earnest. He thrust hard and deep, over and over, taking each of Rodney's grunts and gasps as the encouragement they were meant to be.
Eventually actual words began to filter through the haze of wet, open-mouthed sounds of arousal.
"John, please, I need-"
But John only responded when he registered movement as Rodney pulled a hand from beneath his face and began to slide it down the wall towards his neglected cock. He wrapped rough fingers around Rodney's wrist and dragged his hand back to rest beside Rodney's face, clawlike nails clicking loud against the wall beside Rodney's ear.
He gave a warning squeeze that ground the bones of Rodney's wrist together painfully, and then trailed his fingers along the underside of Rodney's raised arm, dragging against the sleeve of his shirt as they passed over.
Rodney's nipple peaked beneath the scratch of John's black thumbnail as he raked his claws down across Rodney's cotton-clad torso.
The first touch of roughened alien skin on his erection thrust Rodney into his darkest twisted fantasy. His hips jerked wildly, forcing himself into that grip until he came, convulsing, shaking, vicelike on John's cock, internal flutters drawing John after him into completion.
John's teeth sank deep into muscle of Rodney's shoulder as he came, and Rodney's ass clenched even tighter in reaction, pulling a muffled yell out of John even as he gave his own mindless shout.
A sharp slap to his naked, bite-bruised ass snapped Rodney out of his post-coital fog and brought him back to draughty, moist reality.
Pants and boxers tangled loosely on the floor beside his foot, come and lube oozing slowly down his inner thighs, Rodney took stock of sore muscles, bruised hips and masticated shoulder muscles.
John's watch beeped - a five minute warning for the oh-four-hundred shift change.
"Well, hell, looks like I gotta run. Don't want the troops getting trigger-happy on my ass if they find me out of my room having fun, now do we?"
He ducked forward and licked a sluggish trickle of blood off Rodney's shoulder, smoothly tucking his limp dick back into his barely rumpled pants.
"Come see me soon, Rodney. There are so many things I want to do to you, and every day I'm getting stronger and faster, hungrier. Eventually they're going to realise they can't fix me, and then I'll have to run. Run with me, Rodney." John licked away another drop of Rodney's blood. "You're like me now."