SG: Atlantis, Post-Sanctuary Fic Follow-up Fic, (Sheppard/McKay)

[thegrrrl2002]

Okay, so I have to come up with a title. But my brain is feeling all squishy at the moment. I will eventually have both of these fics beta'd, and will post on wraithbait and archive it. But in the meanwhile, here's a generally pointless and smutty follow-up to Untitled Post-Sanctuary Fic Part I. Much thanks and kisses and hugs to wickdzoot, whose thoughtful comments and suggestions made this much better than it was.



Untitled Post-Sanctuary Fic Part II

The next morning John found Rodney in the stockroom. Alone. Alone in a small room, examining the contents of a large blue storage bin. John stepped back, peering around the doorway, watching his prey with keen eyes. There was no escaping. He had Rodney cornered. He was going to give Rodney a piece of his mind. John planned to let him know, in no uncertain terms, that nobody, *nobody* tosses John Sheppard out of their room like that.

He entered the stockroom and closed the door behind him. "Rodney," he growled softly, advancing on his target.

Usually that growl was enough to make enlisted men quiver with fear, but Rodney merely glanced up. "Good morning, Major," he said blandly, as if he hadn't left John standing in a hallway the night before, stunned, with come dripping down his thigh.

John continued his slow, steady approach, scowling his fiercest scowl. Rodney straightened, squared his shoulders and watched, eyes narrowing as John grew closer. He didn't back away, didn't even flinch, even when John stood nose to nose with him. He merely looked thoughtful.

Oh, this was going to be good. It was very wrong of Rodney to dump him out the door like that, discarding him like he was some sort of--some soft of--plaything. There was no excuse for it. No excuse whatsoever, and John absolutely did not admire Rodney's chutzpah.

"Rodney," John began, watching as Rodney's mouth went from a straight, firm line into that funny little twist. "Rodney McKay, you are, without a doubt--" He paused, fascinated by the way Rodney's lips curved downward on the left side of his mouth. Rodney's mouth was interesting. It did interesting things.

John cleared his throat. No matter what Rodney's mouth did, he was still a bastard. "Rodney, we need to--"

Rodney leaned closer. Eyelashes brushed against John's cheek, soft lips touched his mouth, settling on his lower lip and Rodney was kissing him. Again.

"--talk," John breathed against Rodney's mouth.

"Uh huh." Lips again, firmer now, but still, it wasn't the take-no-prisoners kiss of the previous night. It was more of a caress, and John found himself sighing, opening his mouth and letting Rodney in, the sudden sweetness making his heart ache. Rodney's arm wound around his waist, his body leaning into John's, and John stepped back, bumping into another storage bin. It was just at the right height for him to sit on, and when he did Rodney slipped in between his legs. Rodney tasted of coffee and sugar and he kissed so delicately, his hand caressing John's thigh, gliding up, moving closer, and John spread his legs further--oh god, he wanted--

"Jesus, Rodney--" John jerked his head away, his hands flat on Rodney's chest, holding him back. Damn it, bodice-ripper territory again. Soon he'd be saying 'no, no, a thousand times no'.

"Now what?"

"I said 'talk', we need to *talk*. I am very angry with you," John insisted. His hands moved over Rodney's chest, his wide, hard chest, and oh, tight nipples, he could feel them right through the blue shirt.

Rodney closed his eyes. "If you are truly that mad at me, why are you fondling my nipples?"

"Do you like that?" John pressed his thumbs over the hard little points.

"Yes, I like that. I like it a great deal." He put a hand over one of John's, leaned over further, his eyes on John's lips. "I also liked kissing you. Can we go back to that now?"

John dropped his hands with a sharp prickle of annoyance. If Rodney thought a couple of sweet kisses would make things better--well, John Sheppard was NOT that easy. "No, I am mad," John insisted, trying to put some feeling into it. "Really mad." Even though his hands were drawn to Rodney's hips and then further around his body and onto Rodney's ass. Rodney's ass was curved and hard and he could feel the muscles move as Rodney shifted his weight.

"Oh." Rodney nuzzled his cheek. "Would it help if I said I was really sorry? That it was a stupid, stupid to do?"

"That helps," John murmured, distracted by the feel of Rodney's ass beneath his hands. God, it was amazing. "I think you--um--" Rodney's lips were on his neck, just right at that shivery spot, oh, yes, that was nice, and Rodney's body--he could feel the heat coming off of it, because Rodney was hot, Rodney was very hot. He moved one hand from Rodney's ass to reach under his shirt, and yup, hot skin, smooth hot skin, and why weren't they naked? They could talk later. He pulled at Rodney's shirt, trying to remove it but Rodney suddenly backed away, slipping out of his grasp.

"John--" he sputtered. "We're in the stockroom."

John looked around. Of course they were in the stockroom. "Yeah, and?"

"We are not having sex in the stockroom."

"Why not?" His cock was hard, he was horny, Rodney was hot, oh yeah, they were having sex, as soon as they got naked.

Rodney's eyes went wide. "Stockroom, John. Stockroom. Where we keep stock. Where other people go to get stock. As in, could walk in on us at any time."

John felt a tingle of excitement. "They could, couldn't they?"

"I don't believe you. You're just--you're just totally Kirk, aren't you? One kiss and you'll do it anywhere, with anyone."

John jumped down off the bin, scowling. "What the hell? You're the one who started it. You kissed me."

Rodney shook his head. "That was an 'I'm sorry', kiss, not a 'lets lose our minds and do it now' kiss."

Damn him. "Well, I'm sorry but I couldn't tell the difference." Rodney was a bastard. A complete bastard. Chaya wouldn't have said that to him. Chaya was nice. Rodney was NOT nice. Well, maybe his ass was, his ass was very nice. "And so, what was last night's kiss, then?" John demanded.

"That was a 'I'm still mad at you' kiss." Arms folded against his chest.

"Rodney, I had no idea kissing you was so complicated." And stupid. Kissing Rodney was stupid. Nothing good ever came of it.

"Complicated?" Rodney gaped at him in disbelief. "I'm complicated? Maybe compared to you--it's all so very simple for you, isn't it. It's as if you only have one setting--on."

"Rodney," John said in a warning growl.

Rodney rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand. "Why did I even think I could--this is not good. I'm going to go back to work now, okay? Back to work." He spun on his heels and left the room, still shaking his head as he slapped the control panel to open the door.

John watched Rodney walk out on him, dumbfounded. This wasn't supposed to happen. This wasn't at all what he had in mind when he came in. Just when had he lost control of the situation?

When Rodney kissed him, of course.

He stared at the doorway for a beat, then dashed out of the room. Rodney had made it as far as the transport, and the door was sliding open. As Rodney stepped in, John leaped in after him. Rodney stared in astonishment. Taking advantage of his opponent's confusion, John accessed the control pad, directing the transport to the living quarters.

"John--John what are you doing?" Rodney tried to redirect the transport, but John grabbed his hand, twisted it around Rodney's back, and pushed him, face first, into the wall. Gently.

"I said, we're going to *talk*. In a private place. My place, as a matter of fact." He held Rodney's arm carefully, not wanting to hurt him. He only wanted to avoid kissing Rodney, because if he did, his brain would cease to function and then all kinds of crazy things would happen.

Rodney didn't struggle. Instead, in a weary voice, he asked, "As much as I appreciate this manly show of aggression, do you really think it's necessary?"

"I don't like you walking out on me. You should just be glad I didn't have a chance to get my gun."

"Oh, please."

Okay, so he wouldn't have used his gun on Rodney. Still, it would be nice if Rodney could act a least a little bit intimidated. He tightened his hold on Rodney's forearm, leaning into him.

"Major," Rodney said, sounding as though his teeth were clenched, "This is really starting to piss me off."

"Oh really?"

"Let go of me." A demand, in low, threatening voice, and John's heart beat faster.

"I don't think so," John whispered in his ear. He rubbed his cheek against the back of Rodney's neck, breathing deep. Rodney's skin smelled good, and it tasted even better.

An exasperated noise. "I didn't say 'lick me,' I said--"

"I heard you the first time." John pressed his thighs up against the back of Rodney's legs, and wondered what it would be like to fuck Rodney, to push his cock in, nice and slow. He wondered if Rodney would growl and bitch at him the entire time, or if he would be soft and surrendering. Or both. Rodney would, he was sure, manage to do both at the same time.

He didn't realize he had released Rodney's arm until he was flung against the opposite wall, his shirt collar bunched up in Rodney's fists. "You're unbelievable, you know that?" Rodney snarled.

John opened his mouth, surprised and impressed by how fast Rodney could move. Before he could speak, the transport reached its destination, door sliding open, revealing a thankfully empty hallway. Rodney let go, stepping away. John grabbed his arm again as Rodney tried to exit the transport. "Talk," John pleaded. "Can we just go to my room and talk about this. Please?"

Rodney looked over his shoulder, eyeing John steadily. "That's exactly where I was heading, Major."

"Good. We'll go there together."

Rodney stared down at John's hand, still wrapped around his bicep, then gave him a look, *that* look, but John chose to ignore it. He wasn't taking any chances. He held on tight, hard muscle under his palm..nice. Very nice. He hadn't known Rodney had such nice biceps.

He tugged on Rodney's arm, and Rodney reluctantly walked with him. Reaching his room, he opened the door and dragged Rodney in. Once inside, Rodney tried to yank his arm free, but John yanked back.

"John, we're here. Do you think you can let go?"

"Not yet," John growled. Rodney still sounded as mad as hell. John decided he liked Rodney as mad as hell. He liked it a lot. He pulled Rodney across the small room and onto the bed, shoving him down. Climbing over him, he straddled Rodney's hips, holding Rodney's arms down at his side.

"What the *hell* do you think you are doing?" Rodney asked, disbelief in his voice.

He tried to twist his arms free, so John sat on him, pinning him down. John intended to get the upper hand, damn it, for once and for all. Rodney wasn't going to walk out on him, and Rodney wasn't going to shove him out the door or up against a wall. And Rodney certainly wasn't going to kiss him and make his brain melt, either.

Not just yet, anyway.

"Okay," John said evenly. "Now, we can talk." Rodney glared at him, a scorching hot, pissed off kind of glare that went straight to John's dick. John leaned forward, putting his weight on Rodney's wrists, and tried not to look at Rodney's lips. "Actually, I'm going to talk. And you're going to listen."

"All right, Major, I'll listen. See? This is me listening. But if you think this macho commando crap is doing it for me, well," Rodney paused and moved his hips under John's ass, then finished in a small voice, "you're right. It is. Disturbingly so."

John raised his brows. "Really?" he asked. "Cool."

"Yeah, real cool." Said with utter dismay.

John smiled, wriggling around until he could feel the hardness of Rodney's cock under his ass.

Rodney's expression grew more pained. "Oh god. I am so fucked."

"You? How about me? You do all kinds of weird things to me--I can't even think straight when you kiss me."

"Really?" Rodney brightened.

"Yes, really. You couldn't tell?"

"I don't know--Like I can tell what your thought processes are on a good day? But I'm not usually thinking very clearly when you're kissing me back. Or pushing me around. Or," he sighed, "sitting on top of me."

"Oh." At least he wasn't the only one with the brain-melting problem. He shifted again, grinding against Rodney's cock.

Rodney's hips shifted in response, pushing back up. "I thought--I thought we were talking. Or you were talking. I don't hear any talking, John." Rodney's voice was breathy.

John frowned. Was there something they needed to talk about? "Oh, yeah. That. I'm not some kind of trollop, you know."

Rodney blinked at him. "Trollop? Trollop? What are you, the queen mother?"

"If I had known you were even slightly interested," John added, "I wouldn't have looked twice at Chaya."

"Right." Rodney moved beneath him again, restlessly.

"In case you haven't noticed, I spend a lot more time looking at you."

"Because," Rodney sighed, "you're a trollop." He rocked his hips, his eyes growing unfocused. "One kiss and you roll right over for anyone."

"I am NOT a trollop." John loosened his grip on Rodney's wrists, fingers caressing Rodney's palms. "Except when you kiss me. Don't you understand? It's all about you, you ass."

A crooked little smile now, with a touch of disbelief.

"But you kissed me and made me come in my pants, then locked me out in the hallway," John continued. "That wasn't very nice."

"Of course it wasn't nice," Rodney said, eyes closing briefly. He clasped John's hands in his, fingers intertwined. "After the door shut I jerked off, you know. You were incredible, the way you felt, those noises you made."

John pictured it--Rodney with his hand down his pants--and grinned. "So why did you shut me out?"

"Because I'm an idiot. A huge idiot. You know that old saying about cutting off your nose to spite your face?" Rodney pulled John's hands up over his head, stretching John out over his body. "My face was oh so very spited. "

Face to face now, and John unfolded his legs to lay over Rodney, oh, warm body again, warm and friendly now. He settled between Rodney's legs, his cock pressing into Rodney's hip. "Poor face." He kissed Rodney's cheek, then moved down to his jaw and neck.

"Are we done talking now?" Rodney pleaded.

"Yes." John said, licking Rodney's ear. "Now that I've given you a piece of my mind."

"I consider myself very, um, thoroughly chastised." Rodney breathed in sharply. "John, can we get naked now?"

"No." John nipped his neck.

"What? No?" Rodney's voice rose. "Aren't we having sex? This feels like sex." He tried to untangle his fingers, but John held tight.

"I don't know," John mused, brushing his lips across Rodney's throat. "Maybe I don't want to have sex with you now. Maybe I'm still feeling pretty hurt by what you did."

Rodney went still. "You're joking, right? Oh please tell me you're joking."

John chuckled. He released Rodney's hands, then rolled off the bed and onto his feet. Rodney sat halfway up, desperate expression on his face. "John?"

"Joking," John announced, pulling his shirt off over his head. He emerged to find Rodney glaring at him.

"Well, come on," John said, waving a hand at Rodney's clothes.

"I should have my head examined," Rodney groused, pulling at the zipper of his shirt. John stripped down with military precision, shirt, shoes, pants. Mission completed, he turned to find that Rodney was sitting up, bare-chested but still wearing his pants. His fingers were tugging at his bootlaces but his eyes were fixed on John.

"Give me those," John said gruffly, kneeling at Rodney's feet.

"Oh. Okay." As John pulled at the knots, Rodney eye's traveled down to his hips. "Thank you," Rodney said, voice earnest.

Knots untied, boots and socks removed, and then John went to work on Rodney's trousers, getting them unbuttoned in time for Rodney to drag him up from the floor and haul him back onto the bed. Yanking, tugging, and after a brief struggle Rodney's pants were gone, Rodney was naked. John only had a glimpse of a hairy chest, tiny nipples, pale belly and thick, red cock before Rodney's mouth was on his.

Nice. Oh yeah, kissing Rodney was nice. Soft lips, flirty tongue and then John was on his back, a big warm body pushing him down into the mattress, hard cock bumping up against his. He wrapped his arms around Rodney, and the kiss became less soft and flirty and more hard and demanding. Rodney's cock shoved against his cock, friction like fire in his veins and John moaned.

"Jesus, John," Rodney gasped. Rodney moved away from him no, no that wasn't right, Rodney shouldn't stop kissing him, ever. John grabbed at Rodney's arms as Rodney slid down his body, panicking, but then Rodney's hot, hot mouth was on his chest, nipping and licking and kissing, oh fuck, on his belly now, a tongue in navel and then all warmth and heat on his cock, engulfing him.

Good, was all John could think. Good, good, hot and good, bone-meltingly good. Rodney knew just what to do with that his mouth, hell yes. If Rodney's kisses were brain-melting, this was even better, this made his brain shut down completely, made him moan out loud in a breathless plea for more, to moan for harder--faster--whatever--just-don't-ever-stop. He moaned until the fireworks exploded in his brain all over again and he was coming with a shout of pleasure, shaking his way through it, back arched, hands clenched, then collapsing back down onto the bed with a faint whimper.

He shivered as Rodney kissed the inside of his thigh, and opened his eyes to see Rodney kneeling between his legs, smiling and stroking his body. Smiling smugly, as full of himself as ever. And with a big hard cock poking out of a willy-nilly bush of brown hair, a cock so pretty that John couldn't take his eyes off it, a cock that looked as smug and arrogant as the rest of him. So much so that John lunged for Rodney with a strange, post-coital energy, pushing a surprised Rodney backward and onto his ass.

"Whoa, John, what are you --oh, ooooh."

It was smooth as satin, hard and hot to the touch as his lips slid down the length of it. He could feel the blood rushing through the veins, could feel the tremble in Rodney's hips as he sucked hard, cupping Rodney's balls. John stroking each gently as he worked the shaft in his mouth, pushing his tongue along the bottom, rubbing the head against the roof of his mouth. So many delirious noises coming from Rodney, he didn't know Rodney could make noises like that, along with happy little gasps every time John's tongue swept over the tip. John thought that maybe he could suck on Rodney's cock for hours, just for the taste of it, just to be able to feel Rodney's hips moving like that.

But all too soon Rodney's body shuddered, fingers scrabbling at John's shoulders and with a jerk of his cock Rodney came, flooding John's mouth with warm come, sharp and a little nasty tasting and yet so damn good. John sucked and licked until, with a soft cry, Rodney pulled his cock away. "Okay," he gasped. "Oh, god."

John smiled, nuzzling at the crease where thigh met hip, pubic hair tickling his cheek, breathing Rodney in.

"Does this mean I'm forgiven?" Rodney asked weakly.

John looked up to see Rodney propped up on one elbow, peering down at him. "No," he answered.

"I see. Still mad, huh?"

John crawled up his body. "Furious." He kissed one small, perfect nipple.

"Oh well. I tried."

Dazed blue eyes, brows drawn together, cheeks flushed, lips parted in a funny little grin. Pretty, John thought. He kissed Rodney lips, first the upper, and then the lower, with light, teasing kisses. Rodney groaned, hands on John's shoulders, pushing. John let himself be rolled over.

Rodney gazed down at him. "Trollop," he murmured, his mouth meeting John's for a slow, sumptuous kiss.

Your trollop, John wanted to tell him, but he couldn't, because Rodney was kissing him, that brain-melting kiss, and Rodney was moving to lay on top of him, chest to chest, hip to hip, hands in John's hair as he commanded John's mouth. All John could do was hold on and kiss him back. But then Rodney chuckled deep in his throat and John realized he didn't have to say it, because Rodney, of course, was a genius.

He had already figured it out.


And eeep! Less than two hours left!! Wooo!

Comments

[troyswann.livejournal.com]

Kissing Rodney was stupid. Nothing good ever came of it.

bwah! Bodice-ripped Shep who has to pin the guy just to keep his brain functioning! The Geek God is all powerful! Fear him! Bow before him.

You rock.

yay!

[wickdzoot.livejournal.com]

Isn't he just! :g:

[thegrrrl2002.livejournal.com]

::hugs:: You rock even more! Thank you!

Sheppard is so bodice-ripped, isn't he?