Rating: NC17, Porny Porne!
Word count: 3000ish
Summary: "Are you scared?"
Beta: seiyaharris and forcryinoutloud. For them, because they asked, and saved me from further embarrassment, respectively. ;)
Oh yes, casspeach named them, not me.
Off-world fuck up #321. That's what Lorne was going to call this fucking mess, a disaster, a failed mission, a screw up beyond belief. He was bleeding, concussed, and the fucking DHD wasn't working.
"I never thought I'd say this, Sir," Cortez said; coming up behind Lorne, still surveying the perimeter with his P90 raised. "But…"
"You wish McKay was here?" Lorne asked, turning his head and raising his eyebrow. It made his whole face hurt.
"Yeah," Cortez answered, glancing over to where Harrison was inspecting the DHD. Lorne followed his gaze; maybe, just maybe they could pull this off. Then he glanced over to his scientist, the tall figure was bent double, ass in the air as he inspected some tiny, stupid, plant that was struggling up between some rocks.
Lorne watched the skinny scientist as he moved round, cooing over the weedy looking plants, and completely ignorant of any danger, of the forest so close and the big scary cat-like things not all that far away. "Yeah, me too," Lorne muttered.
By 1800 (according to Lorne's watch, but seriously, how the fuck do you tell the time in another galaxy?) it was getting dark and Lorne had Cortez and Harrison put the tents up. Honestly, damn good idea they'd brought them along - it was getting cold. They'd given up on the DHD and were waiting for Atlantis to realise they were missing and dial in to find them. Lorne didn't really think the cats would make another move; they were too shy, too wary of the soldier's guns – now they'd seen what they could do. He wasn't really worried about an attack, but he still got the men to light a nice big fire and organised a watch - two at a time. Parrish wouldn't be much use on his own, and Lorne figured he himself might be a bit slow, what with the head injury and all.
He was rubbing his head again, standing by the campfire, watching Cortez break out some MREs. At the back of his mind, he was already thinking about rationing, but he was tired, and sore, and really really hoping Atlantis would come save the day.
"Right, Major, let's get you to bed and sort out your dressings, shall we?" Parrish's voice asked suddenly, one hand reaching out to grab Lorne's elbow as he swayed.
"I'm on first watch," Lorne mumbled, letting himself be lead anyway.
"No, Sir - Cortez and I'll take it in turns, you need some rest. Doctor Parrish does too, we're going to need your brains tomorrow," Harrison was smiling and digging into his MRE, P90 balanced on his lap.
Lorne squinted, and then shrugged, they'd wake him if there were anything serious going down.
He let Parrish guide him over to one of the tents, they were both side on to the fire, entrances facing each other, with the DHD on the other side. As much protection as they could muster in the scrubby clearing, without venturing back into the forest. And Lorne really didn't want to venture back into the forest.
He ducked to enter the tent; they were only small, big enough for two men (just), small enough to carry in a pack. It smelt a little musty, like damp earth and plastic. Lorne stumbled a little, catching his foot on one of the packs, and Parrish pushed him down without preamble. He tugged a flashlight out of one of the packs, and laid it down by Lorne's feet, lighting the dark tent.
"Sit down Major, I'll be right back. I'm going to get something to clean your head with."
He sat back on one of the sleeping bags and rather awkwardly untied his boots, kicking them off and frowning when one hit the tent wall.
Parrish came back then, a fresh canteen clutched in one hand, and a first aid kit in the other. "Cortez," he said, holding the kit up. Lorne grunted in response and closed his eyes against the light.
"Here," Parrish answered softly, and Lorne felt a hand tilting his head back, and then a wad of damp cloth was pressed to his still bloody nose. "That was silly, wasn't it…" he murmured while he bathed the cut on Lorne's forehead with equal tenderness. Lorne shivered, and shuffled a little, feeling uncomfortable. Parrish took that for indignation, because he smiled and nodded a little. "All right, unfortunate. It wasn't your fault."
"No," Lorne mumbled around a swollen lip, feeling muggy and out of sorts. "Hardly my fault when a giant cat jumps on my back and tries to eat my vest."
"It was after your power bars," Parrish answered with a little snort. Lorne opened one eye and tried to glare. "Can you take your shirt off?"
"I want to check you aren't bleeding anywhere else," Parrish answered with a grin, his eyes were wide with amusement.
"Right… right," Lorne mumbled, before stripping off his jacket and pulling his shirt over his head to reveal a rather pale chest covered in a new and impressive range of bruises. "Ow," he whispered as he looked down at himself. He was torn between amusement and horror.
"Hmm," Parrish answered, scooting round behind him to examine his back. "You've more bruises here, and some scratches, but no puncture wounds. I think your vest took most of the force."
"Doesn't feel like it," Lorne whispered, and added a groan as Parrish's fingers traced over a particularly sore spot. He leaned back into the touch when Parrish stroked the skin there softly.
"Are you scared?" he asked suddenly, dropping his hand and kneeling back on his heels.
"Of you?" Lorne asked, confused.
"No," Parrish answered, snickering a little. "No, I mean… of not getting home, of being stuck here."
Lorne turned his head to look at the botanist.
"Home?" he asked, raising his eyebrow. "Don't you mean Atlantis?"
"You know what I mean," Parrish told him, smiling a little.
Lorne thought for a moment, actually putting effort into it, and then looked back at Parrish.
"If you weren't here, then yeah, maybe I'd be more bothered." He tried to shrug, make it look like it didn't matter, but he was sore, and really, he kind of was worried.
"Wouldn't you rather Doctor McKay were here?" Parrish asked quietly, scooting back on the sleeping bags. Lorne turned, and followed him.
"I wouldn't want to be stuck here with McKay," he answered, because seriously, he did wish the physicist were here, if only so he could open the gate. Lorne settled down on his side on top of his sleeping bag and sighed, feeling sore and tired.
Parrish reached out a hand and stroked it down Lorne's face softly. "I'm glad I'm here. I wouldn't want to be on Atlantis and you to be here."
Lorne brought his hand up and caught the other man's, his grip tight around his wrist. "David, we said we wouldn't, not off world, not on duty," he said, voice very low and eyes still closed.
"What if we never get back?" Parrish asked, and Lorne heard him shifting closer.
Lorne opened his eyes slowly. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, if we come to it." He dropped Parrish's wrist and rolled onto his back slowly. "Ow," he muttered, groaning again as a rock dug into his already sore back.
"Ouch," Parrish agreed, before shifting closer, lowering his head, and kissing a bruise on Lorne's chest rather softly. Lorne stared. Parrish smiled. "Better?" he whispered, before moving away to sit on his sleeping bag, legs crossed under him.
"A little," Lorne shrugged, attempting to appear nonchalant.
"You are scared, aren't you Nick? Do I scare you?" Parrish asked, regarding the soldier in front of him carefully.
"No…" Lorne started, sitting up and shifting a little closer to prove his point. "I'm not scared of you, just of being found out… of getting into trouble, you know that."
"Oh," Parrish smiled. "I think you are scared, just a little… But you'll have to get over it if we're stuck here. You'll have to conquer your fear of me if there's only us here."
"I'm not scared of you," Lorne muttered sullenly.
"Oh? So, it wouldn't scare you if I… kissed you?"
Lorne blinked again.
"Why would that scare me?"
"So it won't?"
"No… it won't."
Parrish didn't answer, just shuffled closer again and pressed a careful hand to Lorne's bare chest, pushing him back, pushing him down. Then he, very deliberately, placed one hand either side of Lorne's head and leaned over him. After a heartbeat he leant down to press his lips against the other man's, very softly.
"This doesn't scare you?" he whispered, sitting up and straddling Lorne's legs to pull his shirt over his head. In the dim light of the tent, his mousy hair was now alive with colour; the light from the fire and the flashlight were picking out strands of red, gold and copper.
"No," Lorne muttered, gazing at him. "This doesn't scare me…"
Parrish smiled at him, and caught up his hand, brought it up to rest on his own chest. "Because you've been giving me that impression. That you're scared. That you don't really want this… or me."
"I'm not… I do," Lorne managed, moving his hand until it was over Parrish's heart and he could feel it thumping hard, at odds with the man's calm exterior.
Parrish shrugged, and pushed into the touch, shifting forwards so he was in Lorne's lap, and then leaning down to steal another kiss. He hovered, with his lips over Lorne's, staring at the other man intently.
"Still not scared?" he asked, breath warm against Lorne's lips – tantalisingly close. He started to move his hips in tight little rolls that finally elicited a small gasp from the man beneath him. He swallowed it in his own mouth as he captured Lorne's lips with his own, tongue exploring teeth, gums and palate, his hands coming up to rake through short hair.
"It would scare me more…" Lorne managed, between nips to Parrish's lower lip. "If you stopped now…"
Parrish smiled, and whispered, "Wouldn't want to scare you now," while trailing tiny biting kisses up his neck and onto his lower jaw, stubble scratching against teasing lips.
"No… you wouldn't…" Lorne was panting, and his hands came up to grasp Parrish's hips firmly, holding him down. "it wouldn't be… nearly as much fun…"
There was humour in dark eyes as Parrish's hands smoothed their way down Lorne's chest to stroke his stomach. They were cold and dry against warm skin and Lorne pulled away in a little flinch. Parrish raised his eyebrow in mock amusement. Lorne responded by sitting up, gripping Parrish's shoulders and kissing him hard, deeper and hungrier than the previous kisses. He wanted to leave no doubt that he wasn't scared.
"Better," Parrish whispered against his ear, before running his hands up his chest an on to his shoulders. He pushed Lorne back down onto the sleeping bags, and then leant down to place one gentle, but rather dominating kiss to the soldier's lips before shuffling back and disappearing for a moment. When he returned, it was without his pants, and he made short work of removing Lorne's, encouraging him to lift his hips to help, but otherwise doing all the work.
"If we get stuck here," he murmured, crawling over Lorne once more, tickling bare skin with callused fingers, until he straddled his hips, the thin cotton of their shorts doing nothing to hide their interest. "You're going to have to learn to not be scared. Because you won't be able to run away anymore."
Lorne reached up to try and caress the other man's shoulder, but his hands were smacked away.
"I'm telling you Nick, and I'm being serious now, I can't deal with you pulling away. It hurts," he frowned, one hand toying with the waistband of Lorne's shorts. "It makes me think you just want a fuck, nothing else. And I'm not like that, I told you that."
"No, I know," Lorne whispered, reaching out again, this time he was allowed to touch and caressed his shoulders and upper arms softly before trailing his fingers down to flutter across his pecs. Parrish let out a pleased little noise at the touch, encouraging Lorne to rub fingers over his nipples and run teasing, tickling strokes down his ribcage. His own hands in turn, were playing across Lorne's chest, stroking through the dark hair there and running in teasing, feather-light circles over nipples. Lorne hissed a little in pain as the scientist's touch ran over one of the bruises.
"Sorry," Parrish muttered, looking down.
"No…" Lorne gripped his hand, keeping it against his chest. "I am. Honestly, I am. I know I'm screwing you around, I don't mean to. I don't… I don't want to. I just need… I need some time to sort my head out. Please?" he squeezed Parrish's fingers gently. "Can you give me that?"
Parrish looked at him for a moment and then nodded silently. "I'm almost hoping we are stuck here," he said, and his voice sounded whimsical.
Lorne frowned, then moaned as Parrish worked long fingers under the edge of his shorts and pulled them down over his hips, causing him to suck in a sharp breath as his cock was exposed to the cool air. Parrish removed them completely, Lorne's legs kicking to help him, and then slithered up his body to kiss him gently, tongue exploring his mouth before whispering against his ear, "What can I do for you?"
"Oh God…" Lorne breathed, arching into the touch as cool fingers closed around his cock. "Anything… just… touch me…"
Parrish moved, straightened his legs out so he was behind Lorne's thighs, and let his body cover Lorne's completely. His weight was pressing on the bruises and causing a not unpleasant burn, his fingers slid up and down Lorne's length teasingly.
"David…" Lorne groaned, frustration evident in his tone.
"You…" Parrish started. "How do you want it… me? Do you just want this?" he asked, trailing his fingers down the length of Lorne's cock while sucking on his lower lip. "Or… my mouth?"
"Oh God," Lorne whispered again, squeezing his eyes shut as his hips bucked towards retreating fingers, desperate not to loose that tantalising touch. "Anything, do what you want."
"No," Parrish smirked, looking him in the eye and drawing his hand away completely. "This is about what you want. I'm trying to make you feel better. What do you want Nick? What do you want me to do?"
Lorne was staring at his lips as they moved, hips thrusting in pained movement, desperate now. "Your mouth," he breathed, barely audible, his breath coming in heaving gasps. He was nearly writhing under Parrish's weight, desperate for more. "Your mouth," he repeated, a little louder. "On me…"
Parrish smiled a little, before pressing a gentle and strangely loving kiss to his temple and slithering down his body, placing random, wet kisses until he reached the thick, dark hair at Lorne's groin. He groaned happily under the touch and arched up to meet it.
"You smell wonderful," Parrish murmured, nuzzling happily into the hair at Lorne's crotch.
"Please," Lorne whimpered. "David… please…"
He leant in and placed one soft, wet kiss to the head.
"Oh fuck," Lorne moaned, one hand going to his mouth to stop him from crying out, and the other reaching down to tangle his fingers in Parrish's hair, desperately trying not to buck up into his mouth.
Parrish dipped his head in response, and swiped his tongue up the underside of Lorne's cock. He pressed one hand to his hips to push him down onto the sleeping bags, and used the other to fondle his balls gently. Then he trailed his tongue back up to the head and closed his mouth around it, sucking gently and testing Lorne's sensitivity by scraping him ever so gently with his teeth. He smiled at the moan it produced, and continued with light nibbles along the whole length, his teeth covered by his lips.
"Fuck… David…" Lorne breathed, his entire body quivering with the warmth and pressure of his mouth.
"Is this what you wanted?"
The rumble of Parrish's voice around his cock sent shivers racing up and down Lorne's spine. "Yes!" he managed to gasp out, and then clamped both hands over his mouth, desperately trying not make a sound.
Parrish was smiling to himself; he started to hum and took Lorne's length into his mouth again, fully this time, until his nose was nestling deliciously in the coarse hairs of Lorne's groin. He was whimpering softly, both hands still clamped over his mouth, hips moving restlessly and his legs drawing up as he felt orgasm approach. He was aware that Parrish was in control, uncomfortable at his own vulnerability, and he dropped his hand to tighten in the scientist's hair, tugging gently, giving him the opportunity to back away. He didn't. Instead he hummed happily and smirked again. The feel of that sent Lorne over the edge. He could feel his muscles tightening as a wave of pleasure rolled over him and he brought one knee further up, moaning softly, completely at Parrish's mercy. Parrish merely brought his hand up to caress the soft skin at the back of the raised thigh, the other slipped down, behind his balls, to press gently on his perineum.
Lorne felt his entire body tense, spasm, and then relax as he came, leaving him to wilt back onto the sleeping bags, entirely sated.
Parrish swallowed it all, and licked him clean. "Mmm, you taste nice," he murmured, as Lorne tried to twist away from the touch on his oversensitive cock. Parrish just smiled again and worked his way up Lorne's body to kiss him possessively. Lorne fell into the kiss gratefully, experiencing his own rather salty taste.
"Fuck," Lorne whispered when the kiss broke at last. "Fuck me," he said, chuckling lightly and dropping his head back on the sleeping bags with a smile on his face.
"Hmm," Parrish whispered, and smirked again, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "I would reiterate that, but I'd rather you did me and I don't think you're quite… up to it, shall we say? Perhaps tomorrow…" he whispered against Lorne's ear, voice full of promises, before pulling the sleeping bags up around them and creating a warm nest for them to lie in.
"But you didn't…" Lorne managed, even as his eyes were closing.
"We've plenty of time," Parrish answered him, smiling, and dropping a kiss on his forehead.
"We're going home," Lorne told him, opening one eye and trying a glare.
"Yes," Parrish grinned at that. Atlantis. Home. "And we'll have plenty of time there too. I told you… you can't run away from me," he said, snagging Lorne's hand and curling their fingers together.
"Wouldn't want to," Lorne murmured, as he drifted off to sleep, barely aware that he was speaking. It was warm, comfortable, and very satisfying to lie next to another body like this, to have Parrish wrap arms tight around him and hold him close.
"Good," Parrish whispered. "Good."