SGA Fic: What He had in Mind (Remnants)
Nov. 19th, 2008 11:39 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
erdaTitle: What He had in Mind
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
keefaq
Word count: 1018
Pairing: John/Rodney
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Transformative work
Summary: Come on, it's barely 1000 words and rated NC-17.
Tag for 5.15 Remnants
Written for the Season Five Tagathon at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
sga_episodefic
John liked the window in his new quarters. He didn’t need to turn away from it when his door opened, as he could feel Rodney’s frenetic energy before he’d cleared the threshold. He felt a surge of triumph that Rodney had hurried to him, put everything aside without question when John had called him and hesitantly asked if Rodney could stop by his quarters for a bit.
Rodney’s broad arms came around him from behind, wrapping across his chest and just holding on silently. Rodney’s shirt scraped against his neck. He leaned back slightly but didn’t turn around. They’d only done this a few times, and Rodney had been diffident and careful with him, letting John take the lead as if he was afraid of offending him. It made John uneasy, as if he was sleeping with a stranger.
Rodney finally moved, stepping backward and pulling John with him, urging John onto the bed. John staggered against him as they moved awkwardly together. “You’re drunk,” Rodney said, but there was no censure in his voice.
“Mmm,” he said vaguely as he dropped loosely onto the tiny bed, wondering again why he’d been issued bigger quarters while his long-standing request for a bigger bed continued to be ignored. He was drunk, an indulgence he rarely allowed himself.
Rodney was trying to squeeze onto the bed beside him. “John, let me…I want to…” He was pulling John’s boots off and then his pants. John thought distantly that having Rodney undress him should be kind of hot. He rolled agreeably wherever Rodney tugged him, and Rodney finished undressing him and then removed his own clothing. “Let me fuck you,” Rodney said, apparently not put off by John’s drunkenness.
His hand went to John’s chest briefly, and John closed his eyes. He didn’t want to think about Keller, or about Rodney thinking about Keller now. He didn’t have any right to think about Rodney and Keller. He had no real hold on Rodney, and Rodney had never pretended this was anything but a pleasant dalliance, so he had only himself to blame for the disappointment in his gut when he watched Rodney pursue Keller. But he didn’t have to think about any of that now, or about Kolya, or his hand, or what his hallucinations might say about him. He didn’t want to think at all, that was why he'd called Rodney in the first place, because he was the only person that could blot everything out with the sheer bullheaded force of his personality.
Rodney could be depended on not to make any demands on him that he couldn't fulfill. There wouldn’t be any long talk or misplaced sympathy for things that hadn’t even happened. Rodney wouldn't be disappointed in him no matter what he didn't do. He could take John at face value, always had. Rodney grasped at his shoulder and John let himself be rolled onto his stomach. The room spun a little and he opened his eyes wide for a second, glad he couldn’t see Rodney, whose face no doubt was showing everything he wanted to stop thinking about. They’d never done this, he hadn’t done this with anyone for a long, long time, but he was alcohol relaxed and Rodney’s cold slicked up finger -he must have brought lube, must have been intending this- slid into him easily.
Rodney took an absurdly long time prepping him considering how loose his body felt, so long he was nodding off when he felt Rodney’s cock nudging against him. He was grateful for the condom, not sure what he’d have done if Rodney hadn’t used one. He didn’t want to talk about this, or about anything right now. The air in the room was chilly, he’d turned the thermostat down against the warmth of his drunkenness, and the bedding was cool against his knee when he slid one leg up to give Rodney better access to his ass. He took a breath and bore down so that Rodney’s cock slid all the way home with a single thrust, making Rodney gasp and kneel up slightly, his breath huffing against John’s back, making him shiver.
In contrast to the slow and gentle prep, Rodney immediately started thrusting into him fast and so hard he had to brace himself to keep from having his head shoved into the wall. Rodney was muttering something under his breath that sounded vaguely pornographic, but he couldn’t be bothered focusing closely enough to make out the words. As frantic as Rodney was thrusting, he lasted a long time, fingers sinking into John’s hips in a way that would leave bruises to match the soreness he was bound to feel from being fucked so hard. He finally finished with a flurry of harder thrusts, making a little unselfconscious grunting noise with each push. He pulled out suddenly, leaving a cold spot all along John’s back as he fumbled with the condom.
He rolled John over and kissed him, close-mouthed, still rough. He’d lost the hesitancy that had characterized their previous encounters. They hadn’t kissed much, and it was the first time Rodney had kissed him. He didn’t respond, just lay passively under Rodney and let himself be kissed. The sex and the alcohol had combined to relax him despite the fact that he hadn’t come, hadn’t even gotten more than half-hard.
Rodney reached down and grabbed at his clothing, awkwardness suddenly returning. “I better go,” he said.
John fumbled at him, pulling him back from the edge of the bed. “Stay,” he said, even though they didn’t do that, and it wasn’t practical, and Rodney would bitch all day about his back if he stayed. Rodney started thrashing around, pushing against him, and they had a short tussle over the single pillow, which John won, but Rodney trumped him by pushing him back onto his stomach and laying half over him, using his shoulder as a pillow substitute--a position that was bound to leave him with all sorts of distracting aches and pains all the next day. Which, he thought sleepily, could work out okay.
Author:
keefaqWord count: 1018
Pairing: John/Rodney
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Transformative work
Summary: Come on, it's barely 1000 words and rated NC-17.
Tag for 5.15 Remnants
Written for the Season Five Tagathon at
sga_episodeficJohn liked the window in his new quarters. He didn’t need to turn away from it when his door opened, as he could feel Rodney’s frenetic energy before he’d cleared the threshold. He felt a surge of triumph that Rodney had hurried to him, put everything aside without question when John had called him and hesitantly asked if Rodney could stop by his quarters for a bit.
Rodney’s broad arms came around him from behind, wrapping across his chest and just holding on silently. Rodney’s shirt scraped against his neck. He leaned back slightly but didn’t turn around. They’d only done this a few times, and Rodney had been diffident and careful with him, letting John take the lead as if he was afraid of offending him. It made John uneasy, as if he was sleeping with a stranger.
Rodney finally moved, stepping backward and pulling John with him, urging John onto the bed. John staggered against him as they moved awkwardly together. “You’re drunk,” Rodney said, but there was no censure in his voice.
“Mmm,” he said vaguely as he dropped loosely onto the tiny bed, wondering again why he’d been issued bigger quarters while his long-standing request for a bigger bed continued to be ignored. He was drunk, an indulgence he rarely allowed himself.
Rodney was trying to squeeze onto the bed beside him. “John, let me…I want to…” He was pulling John’s boots off and then his pants. John thought distantly that having Rodney undress him should be kind of hot. He rolled agreeably wherever Rodney tugged him, and Rodney finished undressing him and then removed his own clothing. “Let me fuck you,” Rodney said, apparently not put off by John’s drunkenness.
His hand went to John’s chest briefly, and John closed his eyes. He didn’t want to think about Keller, or about Rodney thinking about Keller now. He didn’t have any right to think about Rodney and Keller. He had no real hold on Rodney, and Rodney had never pretended this was anything but a pleasant dalliance, so he had only himself to blame for the disappointment in his gut when he watched Rodney pursue Keller. But he didn’t have to think about any of that now, or about Kolya, or his hand, or what his hallucinations might say about him. He didn’t want to think at all, that was why he'd called Rodney in the first place, because he was the only person that could blot everything out with the sheer bullheaded force of his personality.
Rodney could be depended on not to make any demands on him that he couldn't fulfill. There wouldn’t be any long talk or misplaced sympathy for things that hadn’t even happened. Rodney wouldn't be disappointed in him no matter what he didn't do. He could take John at face value, always had. Rodney grasped at his shoulder and John let himself be rolled onto his stomach. The room spun a little and he opened his eyes wide for a second, glad he couldn’t see Rodney, whose face no doubt was showing everything he wanted to stop thinking about. They’d never done this, he hadn’t done this with anyone for a long, long time, but he was alcohol relaxed and Rodney’s cold slicked up finger -he must have brought lube, must have been intending this- slid into him easily.
Rodney took an absurdly long time prepping him considering how loose his body felt, so long he was nodding off when he felt Rodney’s cock nudging against him. He was grateful for the condom, not sure what he’d have done if Rodney hadn’t used one. He didn’t want to talk about this, or about anything right now. The air in the room was chilly, he’d turned the thermostat down against the warmth of his drunkenness, and the bedding was cool against his knee when he slid one leg up to give Rodney better access to his ass. He took a breath and bore down so that Rodney’s cock slid all the way home with a single thrust, making Rodney gasp and kneel up slightly, his breath huffing against John’s back, making him shiver.
In contrast to the slow and gentle prep, Rodney immediately started thrusting into him fast and so hard he had to brace himself to keep from having his head shoved into the wall. Rodney was muttering something under his breath that sounded vaguely pornographic, but he couldn’t be bothered focusing closely enough to make out the words. As frantic as Rodney was thrusting, he lasted a long time, fingers sinking into John’s hips in a way that would leave bruises to match the soreness he was bound to feel from being fucked so hard. He finally finished with a flurry of harder thrusts, making a little unselfconscious grunting noise with each push. He pulled out suddenly, leaving a cold spot all along John’s back as he fumbled with the condom.
He rolled John over and kissed him, close-mouthed, still rough. He’d lost the hesitancy that had characterized their previous encounters. They hadn’t kissed much, and it was the first time Rodney had kissed him. He didn’t respond, just lay passively under Rodney and let himself be kissed. The sex and the alcohol had combined to relax him despite the fact that he hadn’t come, hadn’t even gotten more than half-hard.
Rodney reached down and grabbed at his clothing, awkwardness suddenly returning. “I better go,” he said.
John fumbled at him, pulling him back from the edge of the bed. “Stay,” he said, even though they didn’t do that, and it wasn’t practical, and Rodney would bitch all day about his back if he stayed. Rodney started thrashing around, pushing against him, and they had a short tussle over the single pillow, which John won, but Rodney trumped him by pushing him back onto his stomach and laying half over him, using his shoulder as a pillow substitute--a position that was bound to leave him with all sorts of distracting aches and pains all the next day. Which, he thought sleepily, could work out okay.
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Date: 2008-11-20 12:19 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2009-01-16 01:58 am (UTC)so very well done.