Funny, at some point during his life – hell, at many points during his horny teenage years – John would have said that permission and privacy to spend the entire day jacking off was the best gift ever. Even as late as yesterday, he would have killed for a day with nothing to do but rest in his room, sprawl on his bed and relax, catch a few z's between bouts of masturbation, to not have to worry about missions and city security for a whole day. A whole freaking day.
But that was before aliens had hyped him so full of drugs that jacking off became an exhausting solo necessity, not sensual pleasure.
Sighing, he contemplated his dick, which was momentarily staying down, worn out by his third orgasm. He doubted the current state of flaccidity would last long though, and could only hope that no one outside of Carson, Elizabeth, and his team realized why he'd been given the day off after the mission had ended so abruptly. Yeah, masturbation was a basic need, everyone did it, but he sure didn't want everyone in Atlantis to know he was spending all damn day at it.
The door pinged, and he yelled, "What do you want?"
"I want to come in!" Rodney yelled back.
"Not a real good time here, McKay."
"I need to talk to you, Major, and I don't think you want me doing it from the corridor."
"Come back tomorrow!"
And then, damn it, to John's amazement, the door slid open. Rodney barreled in, stopping halfway into the room, and the door zipped closed again. John leapt up from the bed, turning away to pull on his sweatpants.
"I do have the gene, now," Rodney said defensively.
"That doesn't give you the right to just walk into someone's room. Particularly a naked someone." He turned back to face Rodney, deciding he'd look ridiculous grabbing for his t-shirt too, and placed his hands on his hips.
"Oh please, Major." Rodney's hands waved with his hands. "Like you wouldn't? I’m concerned about you. And you don't have to apologize for the naked thing – it's not like we haven't peed in the woods together. No real surprise here for me."
Though of course, in turning away to hide his limp dick, he had given Rodney a good view of his ass, something the scientist hadn't previously seen, but John really didn't want to sidetrack into a discussion of his nakedness. "There's no reason to worry about me," John said bitterly, throwing himself back on the bed. "I've been given official permission to masturbate all day. What more could a guy want?"
"I'm well aware this is hardly a picnic for you. Your heart rate and blood pressure must be skyrocketing. Your body isn't used to this much sustained testosterone, adrenaline, whatever. Carson should have kept you in the infirmary – "
"Was there something you wanted, other than to complain about Carson's medical decisions? 'Cuz there's no way I'm spending the day on display for the nurses."
Rodney's hands stopped waving and started pulling powerbars out of his jacket pockets, dropping them on John's dresser. "I thought bringing you a meal might generate questions, but you're going to need food."
John's stomach rumbled in agreement. "Toss me one." He caught it easily – Rodney's aim was definitely improving – and ripped off the end of the package to take a bite as Rodney pulled two bottles of Gatorade out of another pocket and added them to the stash. "Thank you," John mumbled while chewing, rather surprised at Rodney's thoughtfulness, but touched too.
"You're welcome." But Rodney didn't leave, just stood and watched as John devoured the bar and licked his fingers.
"You shouldn't have to do this alone. Look, let me get you someone. I'm sure Teyla – "
"What are you, my pimp?"
"This isn't a joke."
"I'm well aware of that. And I'm well aware I'm quite capable of masturbating by myself. I've even got the good medical lube," John bitched, because wow, hadn't that been a fun treat to have Carson shamefacedly hand it to him in front of the others.
"Carson estimated that it could take almost twelve hours for your system to metabolize the drugs. Your penis is going to be worn raw if you masturbate that much. A mouth – "
Somewhere as Rodney was talking, John's dick started reacting. Because wow, words like 'penis' coming out of Rodney's hard, slanted mouth was definitely exciting and decadent, not that his dick currently had very high standards on such things. And 'mouth' suggested sucking, hot wet sucking…John's eyes slammed shut and he thumped his head back on the wall, hoping the pain would quell his body's enthusiasm. It didn't.
"Wow, you really are – "
"Horny, Rodney. I'm really, really horny, yes." John's hands twitched with the need to stroke himself.
"Look, Teyla – "
"No, not Teyla."
"It might be more awkward in the long run, but I'm sure Elizabeth – "
"Not Elizabeth. Not anyone."
"How about that redhead nurse? Great eyes, and great," Rodney's voice vanished, and John was pretty sure he was making some sort of waving or cupping motion in front of his chest. "And I'm sure she thinks you're hot. Everyone does."
John wondered if he heard jealousy in Rodney's voice, and decided to take an extreme measure to cut him off before he started orgasming purely, or hell, perhaps impurely would be the more appropriate word, from the sound of Rodney speculating about sexual partners for him. "I'm gay, Rodney."
"Huh." That earned John a few seconds of respite. "What about Chaya?"
"Fine. Bi, flexible, whatever. The truth is that I'm not interested in having sex with any woman on Atlantis. My dick and I will be quite fine together." He risked peeking a look at Rodney from under lowered eyelashes. Unfortunately, from the intense expression on the scientist's face, John's sexual orientation didn't seem to be a deterrent to Rodney's planning, but merely one more factor added to the equation he needed to solve.
"What about Ford? He would do absolutely anything for you. Though I suppose you would be worried he'd feel obligated or some such nonsense. I could ask him subtly."
"You don't know the meaning of the word and I am not fucking a soldier." It occurred to John that he should be more horrified, sitting on his bed, wearing only sweatpants, one foot on the floor, the other on the bed, knee bent, his hard-on covered by soft dark blue cotton yet rather prominently on display for Rodney. But frankly, his body liked this, like the sizzling burning feeling of being erect and ready while Rodney stared and talked about sex.
"Grodin's good looking. He's straight but he's very open-minded. Or that Czech guy. Okay, he's a little rumpled looking but he's got amazing stamina."
"Zelenka? You want me to have sex with Zelenka?"
"I'm sorry if he doesn't meet your high standards, Major. We were chosen for our brains, not our buff bodies and ability to carry large weapons." Rodney sounded really put out at John's seeming rejection, before snapping his fingers, switching instantly back to problem resolution mode. "Thomas, that blond guy. That one who looks fifteen. Do you like twink types?"
Oh God no, he didn’t like twink types, but he could hardly detail his preferences to Rodney of all people. "Rodney, please. Please. Just…stop."
Perhaps the begging tone managed to worm through Rodney's thick skull and into his extremely intelligent brain, because he finally, finally shut up. To John's horror, he felt the bed depress as Rodney sat down by him, one of his hands resting on John's foot, patting gently. And that was the final straw because John knew he was going to come, soon and hard. He scrambled off the bed, into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him, locking it loudly. He pushed his sweats down to his upper thighs and jerked fast, almost brutally, wondering what Rodney would do if John admitted that the scientist was the only man in Atlantis that he was interested in romping with for the next twelve hours or so. The only man John wanted to fuck. To love. Would Rodney's sense of obligation and concern be strong enough to make him stay? Christ, John couldn't live with himself if he was weak enough to ask.
He dawdled in the bathroom for a few minutes, washing his sweaty face and hands thoroughly and brushing his hair, hoping Rodney would get the clue that he couldn't help and leave.
Stepping back into the bedroom, John saw Rodney rising from the chair, where he'd obviously been sitting to remove his shoes and socks, and beginning to take off his pants.
"What are you doing?" John yelped, as trousers and boxers were pushed down solid hips and strong legs, to be neatly folded and placed on top of shirt and jacket, leaving Rodney buck naked, his pale body fully visible to John's shamed but devouring gaze.
"You won't tell me who you want to help you, but you clearly aren't averse to my touch. I'm not leaving until the drugs have been burned out of your system. You can use my mouth. It'll be softer, less abrasive."
"You took your clothes off to give me head?"
"I figure there's going to be a lot of sperm ejected over the next few hours. Sex isn't exactly the cleanest of activities."
Christ, he was half-hard again, imagining sperm, lots and lots of his sperm, and Rodney's apparent willingness to accept it, without John even asking. He moaned and sagged against the wall, thumped his head again, and once again, the pain failed to diminish any of his body's excitement. His dick knew how much it wanted to be in Rodney's mouth, and had no intention of relenting before reaching its goal. Funny, his dick was rather like Rodney in that respect.
Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, his mind was still partially functioning or he would have thrown Rodney to the bed as soon as he'd walked in the room and started rutting on him. And his mind was saying this was wrong, very wrong, because frankly, Rodney wasn't that selfless. Brilliant, funny, challenging, surprisingly hot, but not really selfless. Yeah, Rodney acted like a hound dog when he talked about pretty women, but he'd been endearingly clueless the few times a woman was actually interested in him. As far as John knew, he hadn't had sex the entire time they were in Atlantis. So he wasn't indiscriminate, even if his comments would suggest that, and his self-centered tendencies made it unlikely he'd have unwanted homosexual sex out of some extreme sense of loyalty. "Would you do this for Ford?"
"For Ford?" John asked harshly, glaring now, forcing Rodney's blue eyes to meet his. "Would you offer this noble self-sacrifice for Ford? For Teyla?"
"I – " Rodney's hands fluttered in mid-air.
"Tell me the truth. Would you do this for Ford or Teyla? Have sex with any team member who needed to get off?"
"I might," Rodney said stiffly, crossing his arms over his chest. His dick bobbed once with the action and John's mouth watered. "This is hardly something I've contemplated to any great degree."
"No, you wouldn't," John said with soft satisfaction, because his mind was putting the pieces together and coming to the only logical conclusion, or at least, the only conclusion his body wanted. "You'd be concerned but you wouldn't strip off for them." John felt the looseness of his hips, the swagger in his stride as he stalked toward Rodney, who backed away from him until he bumped into the wall and was trapped there, John's hands on the wall on either side of him. "You want me."
"Maybe. I mean – you're not unattractive." Rodney was babbling, which made John smile a little giddily. "Except for your ego."
"You want me," he repeated. "You want my dick in your mouth. You're using this alien drug thing as an excuse to have sex with me."
John could see the flickers in Rodney's blue eyes as his great brain worked frantically, searching for a plausible justification for his action, for a lie that John would believe.
"I want you too. I want to rut on you," John confided, his voice getting rough. The dirty words flowed easily out of his mouth, his inhibitions released by the drugs in his system, goaded by the rapt attention in Rodney's intensely blue eyes and the way his hard mouth had dropped open, panting. "I want to stick my dick in your hot mouth and feel you drink my come. I want to hear you moan when your dick is in my mouth and I suck you dry. I want to fuck your tight ass, and I want to feel your dick in my ass, fucking me hard." John reached out, grabbing Rodney's dick which, oh yeah, bless god or the Ancients or whatever, was heavy and erect, just from John's words. Rodney was hot for him, completely, totally, hot for him.
"Come on," he said, tugging, and Rodney meekly followed, his face frozen with shock at having been caught, his voice paralyzed, though John knew that state wouldn't last long. John walked him to the bed, threw back the blankets, stripped off his sweats, and lay down. Wiggling his hips a little, making his semi-erect cock bounce, he asked, "You wanted to help me, I believe you said? With your mouth?"
Rodney knelt by the narrow bed, staring at John, at John's cock, like he was torn between fleeing and regarding John's dick as a miracle of Ancient technology. "You want me? You want me to do this?" Rodney asked, his tongue flicking out to lick dry lips, but not John's cock.
"I've been dying for it. For you," John said honestly, recklessly. Nothing John had ever seen in his life, his entire freaking life, was as erotic as the sight of Rodney's lips, those hard, thin lips hovering over his cock. He gave a little moan and Rodney's pink tongue flicked out, rolled over the head, tasted the precome, and oh yeah, John's dick went completely hard and so incredibly happy.
John touched Rodney's head, the short hair feeling soft and feathery to his fingers as Rodney's lips lingered over their task, kissing John's cock. That warm wicked tongue sneaked out again and again, gathering John's fluid, bathing the stretched skin.
Rodney didn't even get a chance to take all of John's cock in his mouth, because John couldn't wait that long. He moaned a warning, "Now, now," arched his lips and came, the best orgasm of the day, Christ, possibly of his entire life, because Rodney's mouth was there to catch the milky drops, tongue and lips working quickly, faster than Rodney could eat a powerbar. And what Rodney's mouth failed to catch shot out to decorate his face, white spots on his skin, normally so pale but flushed pink with hunger and arousal.
"Christ, Rodney, Christ," John panted.
Rodney swallowed, licking his lips, rubbing his face to wipe away the other traces of John's pleasure. "Wow. Good," he said.
John laughed, his body feeling warm and satiated, and tugged at Rodney's arm, pulling him toward him. "Come here. I need to hold you. And kiss you." Rodney obeyed, crawling up to lie next to John, his lips the ones to find John's, swamping him with his own taste.
John's fingers curled around Rodney's erection, hard and leaking, as they kissed frantically, Rodney's mouth opening completely to his, welcoming him in, and John decided maybe he could forgive aliens and their weird ideas, since it had led to having Rodney in his arms. He couldn't stop kissing Rodney, because he wanted to imprint himself on the other man's lips, on his flushed cheeks, his blue-veined eyelids, his strong chin, his sensitive earlobes.
Rodney met him kiss for kiss, learning John's face as thoroughly as John was learning his, caressing his cock with strong, sure strokes, and John found himself bucking up into Rodney's hip, his come pouring out.
"I always thought you were easy, Major," Rodney teased, grinning, and John couldn't take offense. He was easy for Rodney, would be even without the drugs burning in his veins.
"You haven't come yet." John gave Rodney's hard dick a gentle squeeze, wanting to feel Rodney having great orgasms too, wanting to make sure Rodney was receiving as much pleasure as John.
"Equality isn't going to be an important factor today." Rodney patted John's dick. "It would kill me to come as often as you're going to."
That made John shiver, the thought that he was going to come, and come, until both of them were drenched in sperm and sweat. "Still, it's your turn now," John promised, scooting down the bed to snuggle between Rodney's legs, firm thighs resting on his shoulders, Rodney's dick bobbing in front of his face.
"Oh please…" Rodney waved his hands. "Don’t – don't let me stop you. I applaud your sense of fair play."
But three fast orgasms – Christ, that put him up to six already, he was surprised his body hadn't collapsed yet – gave him the freedom from the drugs necessary to linger, rubbing his hands up and down Rodney's inner thighs, admiring the incredible softness of his skin, the strength of his muscles.
Leaning forward, John's tongue met Rodney's rising cock, stroked the underside, the skin there even softer than that on his thighs. His mouth found the crown, kissing and licking as Rodney had done for him.
John's eyes flicked up, past Rodney's dick, over the broad chest, to meet Rodney's blue ones, staring with devoted fascination down at him. And again, there was that sense of wrongness, his mind functioning while his body wanted nothing more than to take and take, take Rodney's dick into his mouth…"Why are you doing this?" he asked.
Breathlessly, Rodney answered, "I thought we'd gotten past this part. Past where I admitted you're absurdly hot, and I've wanted to have sex with you since I first saw you."
John licked at Rodney's dick, rolling his tongue on the head, down the length. It was like the scientist himself, such a nice solid mass, hard and thick, and John's mouth ached to just suck it down, but something at the back of his brain insisted on nagging that sex wasn't enough, even a day of fantastic mind-blowing sex. "A basic need, huh? You decided to scratch the itch because you could, because I need it?"
"What?" Rodney gasped, and for once, John's brain must be functioning clearer than Rodney's, because Rodney's pupils were dilated, his eyes glassy and fixed, looking like he wasn't thinking of anything at all except John's mouth on his dick and what John's tongue and lips would do next.
"Basic needs," John said patiently. "Food, shelter, clothing." He kissed his way down Rodney's dick to his balls, sucking ever so lightly on each one, inhaling Rodney's musky scent. "Sex."
"Basic needs. Sex. God, yes, John."
Taking one finger in his mouth, John wet it thoroughly, then pressed on Rodney's hole, working it in gently but firmly, not relenting until a strangled cry told him he'd found Rodney's prostate. "You really think you can fake this for a whole day?"
"Fake? Fake what?" Rodney's tone had a tinge of alarm as if his brain was starting to process again, realizing that John was asking odd questions.
John pressed on his prostate, massaged it, pumped Rodney's cock with his other hand, as he inched his knees forward, rising up to get his face closer to Rodney's, forcing Rodney's knees to bend and his legs fall apart, letting John settle between them. John gambled then, gambled everything, because damn hiding his feelings and damn military policies and damn aliens, he wasn't going to spend the whole day having hot and heavy sex with Rodney and not say the most important word of all, the one that would give the day meaning. "Fake that you don't love me. That this is all about sex, and not love."
"Oh." Rodney panted, and John blessed that the other man couldn't lie to save his own neck, couldn't lie to win a poker game with a million ZPMs as the prize, because the truth was there, revealed and vulnerable on his face, even more bare and naked than his body. The fear too, the fear that held him back, the fear that John wouldn't want this, wouldn't want Rodney's love.
John grinned, and Rodney must have read John's face as well as he read Rodney's, because the fear faded out of his eyes, replaced first by a goofy sideways grin, then a contorted pleasure, eyes rolling back, mouth open and panting as John pressed and jerked rapidly, pushing Rodney over the edge to a sudden climax.
To his surprise, John's cock spasmed and he followed Rodney, their loud moans intermingling as John collapsed onto Rodney, hugging him. He felt Rodney's hands stroke him, pet his hair and his back, down to the rise of his ass, as they both breathed heavily, floating down from that incredible high.
Rodney's voice was calm and affectionate, but with a hint of 'are you so thick I have to tell you this?' as he finally asked, "Isn't love the most basic need of all?"
John grinned, snuggling his head on Rodney's solid, broad chest, licking idly at the pointed nipple close to his mouth. "Yes, I guess it is," he agreed.
~ the end ~