by Nel (cover by the kickass Danvers)

Rating: R
Category: Romance, first time
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Spoilers: None that I can think of.
Summary: Wherein there is leather, food, flirting, hearsay and drama.
Author's Notes: This is for Danvers, who gets this fic in fair trade. She wanted porn, though, and this is more like semi-porn. Thanks to Suz for forcing me to do better and to Resonant who forever put an image in my head, and what an image it is...

John had imagined that Rodney would touch the way he spoke; quick and sharp, with a hint of impatience. So when Rodney’s hands slid slowly through his hair and down his back, touching him so carefully, he moaned in surprise.

He’d imagined that Rodney would boss him around, that he’d, in a superior tone of voice, order John to take off his clothes and announce that he was going to fuck him. When Rodney ground out a strangled “please” as John slid his mouth along his jaw, he pushed his hips closer and held on tighter.

He’d fantasized about the expression on Rodney’s face; not smug superiority, but self-assurance of what he wanted and how much he deserved it. Instead there was a broken litany of “…I can’t believe this…god…don’t stop…” and John kissed him harder.


He couldn’t seem to stop pacing around the small room. “One word about this, McKay…” he warned, voice dangerously soft.

“My lips are sealed, Major,” Rodney said solemnly, almost succeeding in suppressing his smile of glee as he ate another grape from the large bowl on the carved table in front of him.

John shot him a grim look. “If anyone hears about this, I’ll know who told.”

“I’ll just tell Ford and Teyla that their release was negotiated by Rodney McKay, diplomat extraordinaire.” Rodney grinned.

John rolled his eyes. “Try to think of something a little more plausible.”

“It could be worse. At least they’re not asking for some bizarre sexual ritual. I know a guy who knows a guy who heard an Athosian say that he’d heard of these people who demanded that visitors either wear a slave collar, or show their submission by having sex in front of the leaders of the government.”

John stopped and stared. “You’re making that up.”

“Of course I am,” Rodney snorted. “Who would think of anything so absurd?”

“So,” John said slowly, “basically you’re still just smug over the fact that you’re getting out of this and I’m not.”

“What can I say, Major,” he smiled in satisfaction, “drama just isn’t my thing.”


In his fantasies, he’d gotten off on being ordered around by Rodney because that’s how he’d always imagined the reality would be. While the prospect of actual sex was slim, he’d tried to get as close to the truth as possible, even if it was just in his mind.

He hadn’t expected this, hadn’t expected this Rodney who instead of snapping out orders gasped out John’s name like it was something special. Whose face seemed open and vulnerable as John slowly pushed a finger inside.

He hadn’t expected the look in Rodney’s eyes that suggested this was more than just sex.


Rodney was right, it could have been a lot worse. Though John thought that dressing up potential allies and forcing them to take part in a play was cruel and unusual punishment, he had to admit that it wasn’t too bad.

Sure, they’d kind of made him wear make-up. Sure, the clothes were a bit on the tight side. But he only had to stand around for a few minutes, looking intimidating, while the lead actor waxed on about how much his life sucked. After that, he was let off the stage, though he had to wait until the play was finished. As the main couple in the play had to perform a love scene in the nude, he decided that it could have been a hell of a lot worse.

When the play was over, he was led to the small room he and Rodney had been assigned by a couple of guards who seemed a lot more relaxed now. They said that Ford and Teyla would be released as soon as the actors had had dinner with the king and queen. It’d take some hours, though, hours John could spend relaxing in his quarters.

He didn’t like that the release wasn’t immediate, but looking around the well-guarded palace, he didn’t really see any other option than playing nice.

Rodney was pacing the room as John opened the door, stopping and spinning around as it clicked shut. “Are you okay, they wouldn’t let me-” He broke off, eyes widening as he looked at John. “Oh.”

John looked down at the tight, black leather that covered every inch of his body and made a face. “I know, but at least they gave me clothes. Not everyone was so fortunate.”

“I, um,” Rodney said, eyes running down John’s body and up to his face again. “Is that…eyeliner?” His voice sounded strangled.

“You do remember the part about not telling anyone about this, right?” John said warningly.

“Um, yes, of course, I, um.” Rodney stared at John’s clothes again.

John frowned. “You okay?”

“Me? I’m fine!” Rodney said brightly, but there was a hysterical edge to his voice and John’s frown deepened.

“Rodney,” he started, but the door opened and a pretty girl carrying a large tray with food entered, smiling brightly. John smiled back automatically and took the tray from her. “Thank you.”

She bit her lower lip and gave him a flirtatious look. “My pleasure,” she said slowly, winking at John over her shoulder as she left.

“Oh my *God*,” Rodney groaned.

“What?” John said innocently, placing the tray on the table.

“All that was missing was her throwing herself at you and begging to have your children.”

“You’re exaggerating. It was just harmless flirting.” He lifted a lid from one of the dishes and sniffed.

“Ha! Normally, they throw themselves at you. With *that* outfit, mark my words, soon the children will come up.”

John raised his eyebrows and put the lid down again as he looked over at Rodney. “You like my outfit?”

Rodney’s face only froze for a second, but it was enough for John’s eyes to narrow. “Of course not, but I know the effect large quantities of leather has on females.”

John smiled easily and stepped closer to Rodney. “Really?” he drawled, noting with interest how Rodney’s eyes flickered away from his.

Stopping a foot away, he watched Rodney slumping before he straightened up, crossing his arms and looking defiantly into John’s eyes.

“Is there anything you want to tell me, McKay?”

“Fine, you’re very attractive,” Rodney snapped. “If you’re going to rub my face in it, you can just forget about me not telling-“

Rodney’s lips were still moving when John kissed him, but they stopped immediately, his mouth eagerly opening under John’s as Rodney let out a surprised groan.

It’d been a long time since he’d last made out with someone and as he pushed Rodney back until the back of his knees hit the couch at the far end of the room, he decided that it’d been way too long, because he was already achingly hard.

He pulled back for a moment, breathing hard. “So, eyeliner, huh? Or is it the leather?”

“Mostly, it’s you,” Rodney panted.

“I can work with that,” John said and kissed him again.


Waking up when something touched his face, John's hand shot out and he opened his eyes to see Rodney looking caught in the act as John gripped his wrist tightly. Immediately relaxing his grip, he smiled at Rodney. “Hey.”

Rodney returned his smile. “Hey. Your eyes are smudged.”

Touching his eye with his left hand – the right one still holding Rodney's wrist – John studied the resulting black smudge. “Not looking too hot, huh?”

Rodney snorted softly. “You’re still ridiculously good looking, but as that seems to be your default setting, I don’t see an immediate cure for it.”

John raised his eyebrows. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, don’t let it go to your head.”

He tried to pull out of John’s grip but John didn’t let go. “So, you were trying to clean me up.”

“Yes,” Rodney said unconvincingly.

John smiled at him and pulled Rodney’s hand to his face. “I don’t mind you touching me, Rodney.”

Eyes darkening, Rodney drew his hand along John’s cheek and down to his throat, resting over the pulse point. “No?”

“No.” He arched his neck as Rodney slid his hand further down to his chest until it rested above his heart.

“Don’t mind, eh?”

John could feel his heart starting to beat harder at the low sound of Rodney’s voice, as though it’d been waiting for Rodney to tell it what to do. “Well,” he murmured, closing his eyes, “since you can’t keep your hands off me anyway…”

“Were you always this full of yourself and I just didn’t notice, or is it the sex?” Despite the words, Rodney voice was amused, almost…affectionate? His hand slid further down until it was resting on John’s belly.

John grinned. “It’s the sex. Well,” he amended, “sex with you, anyway.”

Rodney’s hand paused and John resisted the urge to open his eyes. “Really,” Rodney said slowly and John could almost hear him thinking.

“Really,” he said quietly and opened his eyes.

Rodney was looking at him like he was a stubborn equation that just wouldn’t make sense, a small frown on his forehead. Then his entire face seemed to relax and he smiled, a brilliant smile, stroking John’s belly possessively. “I'm sorry I missed the play. You probably weren't completely terrible.”

"Thanks for the compliment," John smiled widely. "But I think I would have done better with a bizarre sex ritual."



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