Title: Dork Side of the Moon
Author's e-mail: firstname.lastname@example.org
Author's URL: http://brighid.lyricalmagic.com/bmain.html
Feedback: [always appreciated]
Rating: R-ish. Adult. Naughty?
Summary: Things don't alway go according to plan. But that's okay.
Series:I hope not!
Sequel to: Referencing Gilbert Ryle
Beta: The Sunshine Avenger
Season/Episode: Presume it's after "The Eye" by a fair bit.
Spoilers: Not really.
Disclaimer: I make no claims, I make no profit. They belong to other
people, I just borrow them.
Author's notes: For 'zootiful, salieri and Merry.
Dork Side of the Moon
John Sheppard had the muffins.
He had the DVD.
He had a bottle of that fermented fruit cider the Athosians had traded them for help clearing the fields.
He had five condoms in his back pocket, although something to do with barn doors and horses came to mind.
And five seemed a little ambitious for two guys approaching forty. Still.
John Sheppard was a man with a plan.
About one corridor away from Rodney's quarters he ran into Aiden Ford, who saw the DVD and said, "Hey! Cool! We haven't done a team night in a few weeks." And really, what was he to say, I don't want to watch cult animation with you, Lieutenant, because this is actually an elaborate and frankly, kind of weird attempt at seducing Rodney.
Yes, Rodney McKay. That Rodney. The mouthy, bitchy, arrogant guy.
Who kisses like a tactical nuke and who gives head better than I can ever remember having and who's actually sort of sweet when he's drooling on the pillow.
So instead he said, "Yeah, I was gonna round you and Teyla up after I got McKay. Invader Zim, pretty wacky stuff."
Aiden damn near bounced like a rubber ball. "Oh, yeah. Marcus was talking about that. How about I get Teyla, we all meet in Lounge Seven?"
"Sounds good," Sheppard lied. He watched Aiden head off down the hall and then proceeded to bang his head against the nearest wall for a few moments before going and breaking the good news to McKay.
McKay had just looked at him for a long time before nodding and then said, "Hope you brought enough muffins." And now he was on the long couch, sort of squished between Teyla and McKay and McKay was a squirmy guy. Different parts of him kept pressing up against Sheppard's side, and sometimes Rodney's hand would brush his knee when reaching for his drink and the fucker was *teasing* him.
Because Rodney was like that.
On screen the crazy-assed little robot was having a moment with a piggy. Rodney giggled. Ford snickered. Teyla looked from them to the screen and then back again. "And this is entertainment for children?" she said finally, and somewhat dubiously.
"Theoretically," Sheppard answered. The robot mugged for the screen shamelessly. "Really ... odd children."
"How come I haven't seen this before?" Ford demanded. "What the hell was Marcus thinking, holding out?"
"He was being *Marcus*," Sheppard replied, spread his left leg out slightly so it pressed more firmly against Rodney. "I had to trade him my week's ration of peanut butter to get this."
"Bastard," said Ford.
"Nah, it's okay. I'm more of jam guy," Sheppard replied.
"What really sucks," Rodney said, pressing subtly back, "is that two more DVD's of this came out after we left, back home. Not to mention the Extended Return of the King, and the Batman Animated."
"And the last few seasons of Friends," Ford added. Rodney shot him a look, but forbore making any comment. "Hey, McKay, why don't some of the computer geeks come up with a way of storing all this stuff on a network, and we can download whatever we want, whenever? Like a central library?"
"Yes, the "geeks" are hard at work at that," Rodney agreed, rolling his eyes. "It's on the list, right after "learn all the secrets of Atlantis" and "save our collective asses from the Wraith". In fact, it's been done for weeks but they haven't told you because you keep calling them 'geeks'."
Ford settled deeper into the couch and grinned. "They are geeks. You're a geek, Dr. McKay. Not saying it's bad to be a geek. I mean, you call us grunts, don't you?" He slid a sly look sideways.
Rodney paused, mouth open, as he thought about that. "Okay. Fair enough. And there actually is a database in the works. Should be up and running eventually, if we don't all die first. Pass the muffins over here. And the cider."
The muffins and cider of John's planned seduction were passed from Ford to Rodney. John wondered if this was still getting him any credit, or if he'd now have to hunt down chocolate to get in good.
And since when the hell did you have to woo a guy, anyway? He thought. They were *guys*. Guys were supposed to be easy.
Except Rodney was *never* easy,
And he gave really good head.
And sometimes, pretty much all of the time, John thought, he kind of liked Rodney. At least a little.
Probably a lot.
Because he could tell all the different versions of pissed off apart, and he knew the different kind of smiles and it was a better to have Rodney snarking at him than anyone else kissing his ass.
Teyla pulled on his sleeve. "Major, what is a belt sander? And why do humans with big feet use them?" Rodney snorted and settled deeper into the couch . He shifted slightly, pressed his leg against John's.
This was *so* not going according to plan.
It was gone twenty-two-hundred hours by the time they finished the disc off because they had to keep stopping to explain things to Teyla. And then it was done and they were all blinky-eyed and the lounge was sort of ... wrecked. Rodney volunteered to carry the cups and plates to the mess, while Teyla took the bottles to return to Halling next visit to the mainland. Ford started brushing crumbs off of the couch. John was left holding the DVD set.
"That was hilarious, sir. Glad you thought of it!" Ford said by way of goodnight.
"Me too," John said. "Team nights. Good for morale. Bonding."
Bonding. Bondage. John swallowed. Yeah. Little green men and leather restraints.
Oh, yeah. He'd been seduced over to the dork side of the force. It was a very "D'oh!" moment, and not one he should be having in front of the junior officers, so he waved at Ford. "I'm heading off to quarters. I think it's past my bedtime."
Ford snorted. "That's really, really sad, Sir. Makes me think you're getting old."
Sheppard grinned at him, a KP and latrine duty sort of smile. "I didn't have any grey hairs before the Pegasus galaxy," he said pointedly. Ford just snorted again.
"That'd be Dr. McKay, sir, not me," and he winked and waved and Sheppard figured he was probably right so he just shut-up and headed out.
He thought, briefly, about trying McKay's quarters but with the way his luck was running he'd run into Bates, a marching band and his third grade teacher and they'd all know he was thinking of Rodney's mouth and fellatio and even worse, that odd feeling he'd been carrying around since ...
he paused, swallowed, tried not to remember the slow dissolution of Tages.
Goddamn him, anyway.
Perhaps it was best this way, just assuming it was an echo, a ghost. It would be smarter, safer.
He palmed the door mechanism, thought, unlock and it did.
Rodney was sitting on his bed.
"Your door let me in," Rodney said.
"My door, apparently, is easy," Sheppard replied. "If you're here to discuss the finer points of Invader Zim, I'm feeling pretty tired, so ..." and Rodney was up and kissing him, his mouth open and wet and his tongue teasing the roof of John's mouth. Sethlan kissed sweet and slow and Rodney kissed like a tornado touching down and how could he have ever thought he was confusing one for the other?
Rodney twisted, turned, pushed him down onto the bed and dragged a hand over his body, catching and grinding sweetly against John's burgeoning erection. "Apparently your door isn't the only thing that's easy," he said. "Only, easy isn't the word I'd have picked for you." His face was in shadow and John needed to know so he thought, and the lights arced up and Rodney's face was strained and terrified and god, oh god, he knew that face, he'd seen it a dozen times, usually when they were tired and terrified and waiting for the worst.
He pushed up and took Rodney's mouth, hard, and he'd always been the windswept, sex on the beach kind of guy, rolling in the surf to swelling music but he can't be that kind of cool with Rodney, he can't maintain that kind of distance. He knows he's grasping and needy and he doesn't fucking *care* because Rodney's always been this vulnerable with him, he just never noticed before, never understood that he was seeing more than anyone else ever got to see.
He wormed his hands up under Rodney's shirt, pulled it off, knowing that he'd already seen Rodney naked. This was just ... an inevitability after that.
Rodney leaned down, bit his nipple through the fabric of his shirt before pulling it up, forcing John to arch and twist and then their hands were in each other's pants and they were half undressed and twisted and touching and licking ... god, Rodney's tongue curving along his collar bone and he had a handful of ass and it felt so damned real, like everything else up this point had been smoke and mirrors.
"Naked." he said at last. "Clothes *off*!" he added for clarity when Rodney stopped and stared at him, his face unfocused and horny and apparently confused by the use of words at this point.
"Oh, yeah. Good idea," and Rodney was rolling to the side, tugging his pants the rest of the way off and kicking them across the room. John stripped off his own pants and then he laid himself out on top of Rodney. He braced his hands just under Rodney's shoulders, balanced so that his legs were bracketing Rodney's, his dick was sliding wet and slick against Rodney's, his face was buried in Rodney's neck, tasting the sweat and the soap and just, god, John thought, somewhere past embarrassment, god, he was making noises like he was broken inside. Maybe he was, just a little.
Rodney's big hands grabbed John's ass, drove him down harder so that the friction became almost unbearable, and Rodney twisted his head to catch John's mouth, biting his lower lip and pulling it into his mouth and sucking it hard enough John knew that it would be bruised but he didn't give a goddamn, he just wormed a hand down under so that he could grab Rodney's ass and pull him that fraction closer, that little bit tighter and they were fucking against one another, lost in it
It went on an impossibly long time, all need and ache and soft, crazy noises, before Rodney stiffened, body arching, breath stuttering until finally there was a wet pulse against John's belly, and another, and another; with each one Rodney gasped a little, fingers tightening enough to bruise John's ass.
And then John was on his back and Rodney was sliding down him, licking a wet swipe through the warm spatter on John's stomach before swallowing John's dick, sucking the head hard as his fingers slid down and worked the shaft. Suddenly it was John's turn to stutter and gasp. He thrust up hard into Rodney's mouth, and Rodney swallowed him and then Rodney was swallowing him and he thought, a little hazily, barn doors and horses.
Later, with Rodney's head sharing his pillow and the blanket pulled up over them both, he traced his fingers through Rodney's chest hair, fingers ghosting over his nipples. "You're very good at ... that," he offered, a little bit of a question.
Rodney smiled lopsidedly at him. "I've done it before," he replied. "It just didn't seem relevant to put on my CV for the Pegasus Galaxy. Astrophysicist, Gate Technology Specialist, Cocksucker." There was a thread of bitterness in with the humour, which was something John had learned to expect.
"It wasn't a criticism," John said finally. "I mean, makes you something of a Renaissance Man, doesn't it?" he added slyly, dragging his fingers along Rodney's ribs until Rodney finally laughed.
"You're such a prick,' he said, and he stroked John's face, hand cupping his chin. "That's the scary thing, you know? You're ... everything I never wanted, because I've never been stupid enough to want the quarterback or the head cheerleader."
"I wasn't the quarterback," John said. "I was the tight end."
Rodney stared at him. Blinked twice. Started laughing again. "Why Major Sheppard, I do believe you're trying to seduce me," he wheezed between fits of giggles.
"Is it working?" John asked, handing drifting down, sliding over Rodney's hip to stroke his dick.
"Yeah," Rodney said at last. "But you had a head start." He leaned over, kissed John. "How tight of an end?" Rodney asked, and he was smiling, and it was way better than any of his pissed-off looks.
Though John still was rather fond of those, too. "Tight," he said. "But willing to try new things."
Rodney's hand drifted down, took hold of John's gently exploring fingers and squeezed them gently. "Curiosity is a good indicator of intellect," Rodney said.
"It's one of my best features," John said, agreeably, and a bit sleepily. Christ, Ford was right. He was getting old.
"I wouldn't say it was one of your best," Rodney said. "But it's always been something I liked about you."
"You like me, huh?" and it was seriously fifth grade, but he couldn't resist. He could, however, almost feel Rodney rolling his eyes.
"Yes, I like you. Except for the times I want to beat you to death with a wrench. Or shoot you with a stunner." Rodney curled in closer. "Go to sleep. The muffins only get you so much slack."
"I brought Zim, too," John said. "And you like me."
Rodney kissed him, soft and sleepy and a little sloppily. "Don't make me get a wrench."
John closed his eyes and listened to Rodney breathing, drifting on the edge of each soft come and go. Eventually he drifted into his own sleep, thinking, oh yeah. The dork side of the force.
Current Mood: calm