Author: Vany and Becca
Pairing: McShep
Rating: NC17
Summary: I was working in the lab, late one night, when my eyes beheld an eerie sight... or you know, a weird email. PWP with feeling. Honest.
Beta:
seiyaharrisNotes: This is my first 'public' outing of McShepness, and whilst I look forward to any feedback, this isn't my usual lj. Let's just say I don't want Mummy finding the porn... I hope you like it though! :)Oh yes, and despite the title, it isn't in first person :)
Edit: 'Becca cowrote this in the sense that we were having sex under the guise of it being John & Rodney this one time' - That's a quote, that is ... ;)
I was working in the lab, late one night...
It was late. So of course, Rodney was in the lab. It was just getting to that point in the evening where he could only really type with one finger, and was considering raiding Zelenka’s supply of decent coffee, when the internal email flashed up with a ‘new mail’ message. Rodney scowled, grumped a bit, and then clicked on it.
From: Lt.Col. J. Sheppard
To: Dr. Rodney McKay
Subject: You still up?
Rodney scowled a bit more. Sheppard shouldn’t be checking up on him, he had thought they were over that ‘phase’ of their relationship. The man should not be emailing Rodney at … he glanced at the clock, one am. Oh dear. One am. There was a mission briefing in the morning, Sheppard was obviously trying to make sure Rodney would actually be awake for it.
He clicked to open the email and braced himself for the worst. Then he blinked, and reread it.
Fancy a shag?
If he’d managed to get that coffee, Rodney would have spewed it over his keyboard at that point. He hadn’t however (Zelenka was still hovering and it wouldn’t do to get caught), so he didn’t. He did manage to pick out a reply, with his one finger, and by squinting slightly at the screen. It went like this:
To: Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard B.S. M.S.
From: Dr. Rodney McKay B.S. M.S. PhD PhD
Subject: Are you insane?
So what, you’re turning into Austin Powers now? Kirk wasn’t good enough for you?
He sent the email off with a vague sense of satisfaction. That’d show Sheppard. That’d show him he couldn’t just call… email, Rodney in the middle of the night and expect him to, perform, as it were. Rodney glared down at his pants and the resulting twitch, and then jumped as his laptop beeped, announcing another message.
To: McKay
From: Sheppard
Subject: Obviously, I’m dating you.
Whilst I’m sitting here in disbelief, amazed at your ability to be an ass whatever time of day (or night) it is, I’d still quite like to shag you.
Rodney made an embarrassing sort of whining noise in his throat, and hit reply. Dating, they were dating, and Sheppard had said it first. Really, Rodney hadn’t known what to call what they were doing. They were having sex – a lot of it. It was very good sex (in Rodney’s opinion at least). But it all had a sort of desperate, needy, intense quality to it (probably why it was good). It always happened late at night and was always instigated by Rodney (which had surprised both of them). And (because Rodney had to face up to it at some point and now was as good or bad as any other) it usually happened after some sort of near death experience.
Of which there had been none of today.
“To: Sheppard,” he wrote, because ‘dating’ implied that it was okay to drop someone’s title, and actually (when he thought about it), possibly encouraged. He never called Sheppard ‘John’, just ‘John’ on its own (except during sex, when Rodney lost at least half of his brain cells and couldn’t be held accountable for his actions), and he didn’t think it would be right to start now. He added,
“From: Rodney McKay
Subject: So you’re what… my boyfriend?”
Then he ran out of snarky things to say, and typed:
I actually… don’t have a problem with that. With the shagging - or the… dating. You know - no problems. None at all. Nope.
He waited for a moment, staring at the laptop, and didn’t realise he’d been holding his breath till the reply popped up on the screen. His hand was shaking as he clicked on it, then he smiled, grinned actually, as he read it.
To: Rodney
From: Sheppard
Subject: Yeah, we’re boyfriends. You’re such a girl, McKay.
Shag it is then. I’ll take you on a date tomorrow. Want me to come to the lab? Or shall I meet you in the jumper bay? *insert lewd face here*
He stared at the computer for a bit, then typed out a quick reply, aware that he was probably gabbling – nodding a little frantically to himself as he did so.
To: Sheppard
From: McKay
Subject: Says you. I remember who was on the bottom last time even if you don’t.
I’m trying really hard to be embarrassed that you want sex in a public place. But mostly? I’m just thinking that it’ll be really hot and wondering how quickly I can get to the jumper bay. Because seriously, the lab? How would you expect me to ever get any work done again, ever? Besides, the Czech’s here somewhere. Meet you in the bay.
Then Rodney shut his computer down (because really, who needs to save stuff?) still nodding, and mumbling a little about just how hot his ‘boyfriend’ was, and could they please find a personal transporter somewhere so he could just be there already, thank you. Then he looked up and realised Zelenka was back in the room, and really, Rodney couldn’t walk past him with a stiffie this big and not be noticed. He grabbed a data pad off his desk, held it in front of him and sort of shuffled out of the lab, trying to smile and call out a quick ‘Goodnight!’ to Zelenka without blushing too much. The Czech frowned, but waved goodnight anyway.
What with the stiffie, and the data pad, and the rapidly climbing blood pressure, Rodney was a little distracted when he stumbled into the transporter nearest his lab. So distracted in fact, that he didn’t notice Sheppard was there as well. Not until the other man pressed a hand against Rodney’s chest, followed by a chaste kiss to the corner of Rodney’s mouth, just as the transporter doors whooshed shut.
“Oh my God, people!” Rodney squealed, dropping the data pad and shoving Sheppard away from him, towards the opposite wall. He was aware, vaguely, that Sheppard had already hit the transporter map, because he had that funny, fuzzy, tingly feeling in his fingers (though that could just be his blood pressure), but he was too busy shaking his head and shoving himself towards the wall, and consequently Sheppard. Then they were kissing, and it was hot and wet, and somehow he had both his hands down Sheppard’s pants, one on his ass and one on his cock. Sheppard was holding him up, hands under Rodney’s pits, and he was laughing against Rodney’s cheek.
“Um,” Sheppard muttered suddenly, as everything sort of… stopped. Rodney’s hands stilled and his mind played catch up as he realised the transporter doors had opened and Sheppard was peeling him off and pushing him away.
Then Rodney turned and saw a figure with his back to them, moving quickly away, almost as if he were… in front of the transporter doors only moments before.
“Lorne?” Sheppard called, and Rodney knew he was right, even before the Major turned. It was Lorne, and he was patrolling, and Rodney missed anything else that passed between the two military men, because he had covered his red face with both of his hands and was muttering under his breath. He continued to mumble as Sheppard pushed him into the jumper hanger.
“Oh dear God. ‘Don’t ask, don’t tell’ does not cover ‘don’t see’,” he muttered as he stumbled along, allowing Sheppard to push him. Because really, if he’d been left to his own devices right then, he would have
But then Sheppard turned him, pushed him up against a jumper, and he could feel every inch of Sheppard’s body pressed against him from lip to groin as he moaned into Sheppard’s open mouth.
Rodney closed his eyes tight and did a sort of full-body shudder.
“Oh… you… I…” he managed, before he dropped his hands and grabbed Sheppard’s ass, hauled him in close whilst making every effort to suffocate him with kisses. “You are… so, so very hot. But seriously,” he took a breath and let his head thump back against the jumper. He was still clutching Sheppard to him tightly, one arm around his back and one hand on his ass. “Wouldn’t in the jumper be… better? What with the… cloak, and all?” he asked, with a wiggle of his fingers that he could feel flutter against Sheppard’s hip and shoulder blade.
Sheppard grinned, a big, wide, shit-eating grin, and Rodney had the idea that it might be over how he was acting.
“Okay, fine, jumper,” he said, dragging Rodney by the jacket into the ship and getting a funny look on his face as he muttered something. “Right,” he said aloud, pushing Rodney down onto the bench in the back of the jumper, and hell if Rodney’s cock didn’t jump at that little show of macho strength and dominance. “You stay,” Sheppard added, punctuating the words with a couple of teasing kisses to Rodney’s partly open mouth.
“Staying,” Rodney managed to squeak, rubbing sweaty hands off on his thighs. He tried to lean up for one more kiss, a proper one this time, but Sheppard backed away. “What are you… ah… doing?” he asked, suddenly wondering if Sheppard was worried that Lorne didn’t leave.
Sheppard ignored him and looked out of the jumper’s front window (affording Rodney a great view of his ass that made him flush and fidget in his seat) which might have been checking that the cloak was up, or maybe Sheppard was hoping that they did have an audience.
Rodney didn’t have time to determine which was the correct hypothesis (and didn’t that just wind up his inner scientist) because Sheppard turned back towards him - with a predatory smile on his face and a sort of ‘slink’ to his walk.
A tingle of pleasure shot through Rodney, straight to his cock and he muttered,
“Right, yes, of course,” whilst he started stripping frantically. “You know, I didn’t use to be this easy,” he continued, voice muffled as he tried to yank his shirt over his head. “Mind, I didn’t use to have this much sex. Or you know… any sex. But…” he trailed off as his ears finally popped through the neck of the shirt and he stopped to stare at Sheppard. He was still clothed, with his hands on his hips. Just. Watching. “Have I uh…” Rodney’s voice was sort of strangled. “… mentioned recently just how hot you are?” he asked, the question ending on a squeak as Sheppard stalked towards him.
“Once or twice,” Sheppard answered, and his tone was oddly affectionate; he was laughing gently.
“Good, good. Well you are. Very. Oh my God,” he exclaimed softly as Sheppard’s fingers found his fly and he tried to arch up into the touch, tried to kiss Sheppard again.
“Rodney?”
“Mmm?” Rodney replied distractedly as Sheppard’s hands ferreted into his pants and closed around his cock.
The hands stopped.
“Shut up,” Sheppard breathed.
“Yes. Yes…” Rodney whimpered reverently as he drew Sheppard down towards him and kissed him hungrily. “Shutting… shutting up now,” he murmured against Sheppard’s lips, smoothing one hand down his back to grip his ass firmly. There was a confidence in Rodney’s touch that wasn’t present in his voice.
“You’re really kind of not,” Sheppard said, as one of his hands slid back into Rodney’s pants anyway. “Lift up,” he commanded, and Rodney did, with another shudder. A shudder that was filed firmly in his ‘I like dom!Sheppard’ folder.
Sheppard tugged and pulled and did something clever with his free hand that stripped Rodney right out of his BDUs.
“Christ,” Sheppard swore, which made Rodney look down because hello, was his dick green or something? But apparently, it was the lack of underwear, because Sheppard had gone all wide-eyed and was breathing funny.
‘Huh,’ Rodney thought, and filed that in his ‘John Sheppard’s Kinks’ folder (along with public sex, wall sex, and sex with nubile young virgins). Rodney shook his head to clear it, only to find Sheppard looking up at him again and this time his eyes were half-lidded with lust.
“I… I just. Christ,” Sheppard managed, and then bent and dipped his head and licked at the crown of Rodney’s cock. It was leaking and twitching and Sheppard was licking it – Rodney had to close his eyes just so he could remember how to breathe.
When he felt John’s hands nudging his bare legs apart, he realised he was practically naked. His pants were pooled around his ankles, trapped by his boots, and he was standing in the middle of a puddle jumper – whilst John Sheppard slid to his knees.
The shudder that went through Rodney this time was oddly powerful.
Sheppard was still fully clothed, and he was making those little noises in the back of his throat that…. “Oh…” Rodney moaned, as his hands fluttered above Sheppard’s shoulders. He wanted to touch, but he didn’t want to push – they hadn’t done this before and he didn’t want Sheppard to ever stop. “Oh, that’s really… that’s really very… John,” he whined, and his hands finally came up to rest in Sheppard’s wayward hair.
Sheppard swirled his tongue and sucked hard. Rodney tipped his head forward and groaned, breath coming in short, sharp gasps through his open mouth as Sheppard looked up and smirked around his cock. Smirked. Then Sheppard lifted his hand and pushed two fingers into Rodney’s mouth. Sweaty and tangy, Rodney lathed them with his tongue and tried to express what he really wanted to be doing to Sheppard’s cock. He leant down over Sheppard’s back, hands moving continuously, with one pulling at his shirt, the other caressing his face, ear and neck. Rodney gasped again when he realised that if he pressed his fingers against Sheppard’s cheek he could feel him sucking and swallowing as he took Rodney deeper.
“Please… oh, please,” he whispered around Sheppard’s fingers, the sound almost lost amongst their combined grunts and gasps.
Sheppard slipped his fingers out of Rodney’s mouth and Rodney yanked Sheppard’s shirt over his head and off. That was better, so much better, because now he had access to skin, and plenty of it. Sheppard’s mouth returned and took him in again, just as hands ran up his legs, pushed on the inside of his thighs, forcing his legs as far apart as they would go.
Rodney was panting and begging by the time Sheppard slowly, carefully pushed his wet fingers into Rodney’s body, twisting and moving them as he went, massaging his insides, finding and pressing his prostate. Rodney panted through his nose; teeth gritted as he ran his palms up Sheppard’s back and gripped his shoulders tight. The other man hummed in the back of his throat, swallowed and scraped his fingers over Rodney’s prostate again. Rodney felt his orgasm build like a warm weight in his stomach; it moved down and around and tingled through his body until he couldn’t control the shaking. His fingers pressed into taught shoulder muscles again and Sheppard retaliated by finding his prostate one more time and pressing hard.
“John… John,” Rodney gasped out, thrusting a little and trying not to at the same time, his hips stuttering as he came. He managed another strangled gasp as Sheppard’s hand gripped his hip and he just swallowed and swallowed, then started licking him clean.
When Rodney came back to himself a minute later, Sheppard was wrapped around him, face pressed into Rodney’s neck and hands clutching his ass. He was still for a moment, letting Sheppard hold him up. His hands were limp and exhausted as they rested on skinny hips. He shuddered a bit as he realised his lover was still mostly clothed, that his erection was hot and heavy against Rodney’s leg, and he pressed a wet kiss against his shoulder.
“If you don’t…” and his voice was rough and deep and so much sounding like he’d just had sex, that he had to stop for a moment and clear his throat. “If you don’t fuck me right now, I don’t think I’ll ever forgive you,” and he whispered it against Sheppard’s neck this time, all hot and heavy and wet. He was close enough to hear the hitch in Sheppard’s breathing and the way his heart rate sped up at the suggestion.
“Well,” Sheppard began, his own voice a brand of rough and low that got Rodney hot in ways that shouldn’t be possible right now. “… as fun as you not talking to me would be…” he trailed off and pushed away. Rodney blinked, a little sleepily (because he’s always been one to pass out right after he comes), and Sheppard smiled at him beatifically, and then pressed a kiss to his lips. “Turn around,” he commanded, and it was still a command, even though it was muttered against Rodney’s lips. Rodney heard him dropping his pants, heard him reaching up into the overhead compartment, and looked down to see Sheppard hadn’t got his boots off either and that his legs were now trapped by his pants, just like Rodney’s own.
“Oh God,” Rodney whispered, feeling his knees shake a little as Sheppard pushed his shoulder and turned him. He spread his legs as wide as he could, thought for a moment how ridiculous they both looked, with their pants around their ankles – he shuddered again – and also, apparently, hot. Then he reached for the webbing that held the equipment to the walls, wrapped his sweating hands tight into it and bent at the waist, pushing his ass out, even as he felt Sheppard’s hands ghost over his skin.
There was a hand on his hip, two slick fingers probing between his cheeks, and then pushing into him. Soon after, a third was added. He took it; he was still stretched from before, he pushed back against the fingers, impatient and starting to whimper. He felt Sheppard’s forehead rest on the back of his neck, then blunt pressure at his ass, pushing into him. Rodney’s head dropped down between his arms, and he could actually feel sweat dripping from the end of his nose. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been that turned on in all in life. He was relaxed and Sheppard was gentle, but he was getting hard again and he wanted more, faster, now.
“John, John, John,” he whined, pushed back and down, tried to force Sheppard deeper. It struck him suddenly that this, right now, during sex, was the only time he’d ever called Sheppard ‘John’, and the ridiculousness of that made him laugh suddenly, hysterically, as everything he had tried to stop himself feeling hit him all at once.
Then Sheppard’s… John’s, fingers were on the back of his neck, stroking and petting. They gentled him, touched his face and neck, even as the rhythm picked up and John forced his way into him harder. The fingers pushed Rodney’s head forward and moved into his hair; grounding him.
“John,” Rodney whispered again, and it was reverent this time, filled with everything neither of them had ever said.
Rodney felt an arm around his waist, felt the way John shuddered against him and the way his movements became erratic as he started to come, face pressed against Rodney’s neck, as the hand on his hip moved around to stroke his cock.
Rodney was silent when he came for the second time, mouth open in shocked awe. Time itself seemed to stop for a moment; his breathing, his hearing, everything stopped and all he could feel was John pulsing into him and John’s mouth moving silently against the back of his neck.
Then time was in fast forward and Rodney pushed up and away, turned round and felt John slip out of his body. He grabbed the other man by his shoulders and kissed him, fierce, possessive and everything in between.
“John, John, John,” he muttered, because now he’d said it, he couldn’t stop saying it. He was barely aware of their legs getting tangled in their pants, of the way he pushed Sheppard to the floor, or that he pushed against him so hard he left bruises. But he could feel the way his heart swelled and the way his ears rang, and he could definitely hear the voice in his head that shouted, ‘Yes yes yes! This is it!’.
Rodney lifted up and looked down at the man sprawled beneath him, who was slack-jawed and narrow-eyed, as he gasped in air. He brought one hand up and pressed it gently against Sheppard’s cheek.
“John,” he whispered again – and this time, it was a promise.