It started with a blowjob, one of the ways John had dreamed it might, though he hadn't quite imagined waking up in the middle of the night, feeling Rodney's warm, wet mouth on his cock. That part was different, as he'd figured it would be early evening and there would be talking and foreplay first, not Rodney sneaking in and getting on with business while John was sacked out, dead to the world.
But John was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, particularly when it was making him come so hard that he was afraid his head would explode.
He babbled words of praise and encouragement, mixed with a healthy dose of obscenities, and breathed hard, his lungs pounding in his chest, as Rodney sat on the edge of the bed, looking cool and calm. "We could tell you needed that."
Which was another odd thing, he'd never noticed Rodney using the royal we, but John wasn't in any mood to get picky about grammar. "God, Rodney, that was hot," he answered. "And good. So fucking good. I never expected that from you. Give me a moment, and I'll return the favor."
"That is not needed. You should sleep, John. You tire yourself too much." Rodney stroked John's face and tucked the covers back around him. The lights dimmed and it was all weird as hell, but his body was satiated and John fell asleep.
The next day, John was sure he grinned too goofily a few times in the staff meeting, dying for the chance to drag Rodney away and talk to him in private. He wanted to know everything – what had made Rodney do that now, how long had he'd wanted to, how soon were they going to do it again. The others seemed a bit surprised at his chipper mood, but Rodney positively growled at him. Giving a blowjob apparently didn't do as much for his mood as receiving did for John's. So John consciously forced himself to calm down and relax.
Rodney stomped off as soon as the meeting was over, leaving John perplexed and concerned, hoping that Rodney wasn't regretting his mad impulse. Because that could happen every night as far as John was concerned, only with Rodney naked and Rodney's cock in his mouth too. He tried to follow him, to talk to him, but people seemed to be constantly bringing him critical matters that had to be handled now-now-now, and he never found a private moment to tackle Rodney.
He was tired and dispirited as he went to bed, but woke again to heat and passion and his balls tightening and his cock throbbing in Rodney's mouth. "We have to talk," he demanded, when his mouth was able to form coherent words again, but somehow he found himself coaxed back into sleeping.
The next morning, determined not to relent until he cornered Rodney, he tracked him down to the east pier, finding he and Radek crouched over Ancient machinery. "We have to talk," he announced. "Now."
"Did you have a nice shower this morning, Colonel?"
The question confused John and he frowned. "What does that matter?"
"Because Radek and I have been working on the water and desalinization controls for half the night after some of the relays broke and two rooms flooded. These were the final adjustments. Which is why you and the other soldiers could sleep soundly in your beds, and awake to hot showers and drinkable coffee this morning. And now Radek and I are going for our own breakfast." Rodney gave himself a sniff. "And a shower. I really need a shower. I smell like dead fish."
John grabbed Rodney's forearm as he started to gather up his box of tools. "Half the night? You've been working half the night?"
Rodney gave him a look that clearly said, 'You're nuts and what is your problem?' before stating precisely, as if John had hearing problems, "Radek and I have been working on this system since almost midnight. I will be eating now, and showering, and sleeping. I will not be going on a mission today. You and Teyla and Ronon can have a nice time tromping through the forest without me." He jerked his arm away and he and Radek walked off, Radek with an apologetic glance back.
Could Rodney have been in his bed before midnight? John wouldn't have thought so, but in the midst of an orgasm, checking the time hadn't been on his mind. But if it wasn't Rodney...was he just having really hot erotic dreams? Was it all his imagination, his subconscious fulfilling his fantasies? Or was something else happening? Something more sinister?
John went to bed that night with a thermos of coffee and his nine mil carefully stowed under his pillow. He wasn't going to trot to Heightmeyer with erotic dreams, but he couldn't ignore the possibility of an alien presence. He only had to wait a few minutes, and then Rodney was sitting on the edge of the bed, even though the door had never opened. Without conscious thought, he was sitting up, the nine mil in his hands, his forearm propped on one knee to steady his aim. "Who the hell are you? Because you're not Rodney McKay." The light turned up high in response to his mental command.
The thing with Rodney's face and body didn't seem alarmed by the gun, smiling softly, an expression on his face that was almost sweet. It wasn't an expression that John had seen very often. "Hello, John."
"Who are you?"
"Don't you know? Can't you feel me?" One of Rodney's hands rested on the blankets, on top of his leg.
John let himself feel, let himself focus and...there it was. The same comforting feeling that Atlantis gave him radiated from Rodney. "Atlantis?"
"Yes, John. We are the city."
"But you're – "
"Solid? We are alive. We always have been. This is just – " The city gazed at his hands, the backs and then the palms. "We are sorry, John. We do not believe you have the background to understand." And there it sounded more like Rodney. "Perhaps you should think of us as a hard light hologram, a personality in a created body."
"You watch science-fiction shows?"
"We watch you, John. And the others. But mostly you. You are like the ones who built us."
"Why Rodney? Why the – " He'd come in the city's mouth, but still he hesitated to say a crude word like 'blowjobs' to this quiet, serious version of Rodney. "The fellatio?"
"You wanted him. You needed the release. We watch you. We care."
"You're psychic?" Which made sense really, that the city would have a low-level sense of ESP or empathy or telepathy or whatever actual scientists were calling those things these days. Perhaps that ability assisted the ATA gene to helped operate the systems of Atlantis, so much more complicated and varied than those at the Antarctica outpost.
"Of a sort. It is easier with you. We hear you best."
Of course the city would respond to him strongest; he'd always had the most powerful ability to use the ATA gene. John had a sneaking suspicion that Rodney would be jealous that the city came to John rather than him, and probably incredibly offended that the city had come in Rodney's form to have sex. But Christ, he was going to flip for joy when he learned the city was this alive. He and Radek would be in heaven. "When you say 'we' – are there many of you? Are you different entities?" Or one entity, who liked pretentious grammar?
"John, we will not talk to Rodney. We will not talk to the others. You will only distress them if you tell them about us."
The psychic ability, the city knew he wanted Rodney, would know that he wanted to tell Rodney about this discovery. "We just want to understand you better, how you work. If you would meet with them – "
"No." The city reached forward, taking the pistol from John's unresisting hands, putting it into the dresser drawer, before it cupped John's face in its hands, Rodney's hands, the ones John had watched for so long with admiration and lust, and gave John a long sweet kiss. "We are here for you. To help you. That is all."
"But – " The words were stifled by the city's lips, and John let himself be pushed back, down to the bed, as the lights went out. He thought the repetition of the words, 'We are here for you, only for you,' was only in his mind but he couldn't be certain. He couldn't be certain of anything except he was surrendering to Rodney's lips and hands and body.
For a while, life was really great. Oh sure, some missions went completely haywire and they barely escaped with their lives, feeling the hot breath of angry Wraith or riled natives on their necks. Rodney continued his personal mandate of fixing every system on Atlantis, and he locked horns with John a couple of times over how many and for how long the Marines could be drafted into grunt work. There were even the normal personality clashes and gossip problems associated with a small outpost, and John refined his expertise on settling seemingly petty disputes before they could escalate into foothills, much less mountains.
But during the day, there was Rodney to snark with and snark at, his personality at once so alive and animated and arrogant that John loved being around him, being challenged by him. And at night, when the stress of being a military commander was too much and the unfulfilled desire drove him too hard, City would appear, with its steady presence and cryptic comments and Rodney's sexy body.
And then a mission came. Not even his own, but Lorne's, with two of Lorne's people held hostage, and a tribal chief that would only negotiate with their leader. Elizabeth was ill in the infirmary and Carson refused to let her go, fearful of contaminating others with her still-undiagnosed illness. "Look, they only know our leader is a woman, right? They don't know what she looks like," John said to Lorne over his earpiece, pacing the floor of the gate room. His mind ran through possibilities, the women currently in Atlantis who could sound commanding, and wing being in charge.
A hand rested on his shoulder, and he looked over to see Elizabeth. At least, she appeared to be Elizabeth, but her eyes were different, the cool, calm eyes of the City. "City?" he asked quietly, even as the Marine guards that were stationed in the gate room pulled their guns and some of the techs made surprised noises. People tended to get nervous when someone magically appeared out of thin air. "Whoa! Stand down! Stand down!" He placed himself between the City and the guards, his arms outstretched in protection. Not that he believed the guards could harm him. Christ, him, it, she now, whatever. It was the freaking city, after all, but instinct made him rush to its defense.
"Yes, John. We are City."
They'd fallen somehow into using City as its name. 'Atlantis' had sounded a little lengthy in bed, and 'Rodney' grated on him, reminding him that he was sleeping with a substitute. "Stand down!" he snapped again, and the guards finally relaxed, lowering their weapons. "This is a friend, okay? She's not going to hurt anyone." Swinging to face City, he asked, "Can you be Elizabeth? Act like her?"
"We can or we would not have come. We do not hear her well, but we try. She is important to you."
"Earpiece, we need an earpiece." Clicking to Lorne, he added, "Hang on. We're about to put Elizabeth on."
"Thank God. Carson let her out of the infirmary?"
Stuck on another planet, Lorne wouldn't know that they were working with a substitute, and it was best to keep it that way. He didn't need to know anything he might reveal to the hostiles. "Sorta."
Rodney was bounding down the stairs to the floor of the gate room, handing an earpiece to City, staring at it with wonder and fascination. It took the earpiece, put it on, and began speaking firmly, as commanding and in control as the real Elizabeth.
"Why did you call her City? Is that Atlantis itself?" Rodney hissed, the awe changing to anger as he looked at John, and John tried hard not to cringe. He'd always known that this would be awkward if it ever came out, that John had been talking to the city itself and not releasing that information.
"It's a physical manifestation of the City's personality."
"You've been talking to the City and you didn't think to mention it?"
Oh yeah, Rodney was pissed, his mouth tight and hard, his eyes burning with righteous indignation. "We're in the middle of a crisis here, McKay. We can talk about this later." He turned away from Rodney, back toward City, crossing his arms over his chest and listening as City was as smoothly diplomatic and hard-edged as Elizabeth could be when needed.
He focused on Elizabeth's voice and the techs in the background quietly making procedural comments, trying to ignore Rodney's eyes burning into his back. Then Lorne's people were released, and Lorne reported they were on their way back. City turned to him. "We will wait until they have returned."
"That would be good. If you would."
To John's surprise, City rose on her toes and gave him a soft kiss, her lips encouraging his to part slightly, the tip of her tongue touching his. The sensation was odd, Elizabeth's mouth smaller and softer than Rodney's, but somehow still giving the cool, comfort of City. Then without looking at anyone, City crossed the room and sat on the wide stairs leading up to the command center, leaning her shoulder against the wall, her eyes on the floor. Rodney followed her, sitting down a few feet away, speaking gently, "Atlantis...how are you here?"
"We talk to John."
John had never known Elizabeth's face could appear so haughty, but then he'd rarely seen Rodney look as sweet as the City could either. City's condescension had Rodney bouncing back to John, clearly torn between anger and curiosity. "How does it get here? How does it exist? What can it tell us about the city? The repairs we've done? The Ancients?"
"City doesn't say much about those things, Rodney."
"Why not?" Rodney's voice was hard but soft, but not so soft that the guards and those closest to the gate floor didn't hear him. "Because you're too busy fucking?"
"You're excused, McKay," John snarled. Christ, of course McKay would see the truth, the easy closeness between John and City, and shove it out in the open with one fast, cheap shot.
"You didn't recognize it as Elizabeth. What does it look like, Colonel? What does it look like when you're fucking it?"
Stepping closer to Rodney, John pulled himself to his full height, not much more than Rodney but enough to make an impression. "This is a military situation, and I'm in command. You are excused, Doctor." Not that he truly had any authority over Rodney, but he commanded the guards and if necessary, he'd make them drag Rodney out, a fact that Rodney must have recognized.
Rodney snapped him a salute in mockery, his palm facing out, and stalked up the stairs, but he ran into Zelenka coming down. The two began a whispering agitated conversation, frequently sending glances at City. John went and sat by City, waiting. Waiting for Lorne and his team to return, waiting for the rumors to spread, waiting to learn how much Rodney hated his guts.
There was a certain unexpected cachet in the rapidly spreading rumors that John was sleeping with the city itself. It was like he'd suddenly been elevated from a Kirk wanna-be who'd bagged one alien priestess to eclipsing the good captain by taking the living embodiment of the Enterprise to his mattress. He stayed determinedly laid back and cool, pretending that he didn't notice that looks of awe and the sudden giggles and whispering behind his back. This would blow over eventually, he knew, the curiosity wiped out by the newest disaster or fabulous scientific discovery, and everything could go back to normal.
Though John had to wonder if everything would ever return to normality for Rodney, who was certainly not awed or giggling. Rodney was livid, expressing it every chance he got, and siccing Elizabeth on him as soon as she was out of the infirmary. John slouched in the conference room chair, noting the paleness of Elizabeth's skin and the fact that she must have lost five pounds, a loss she couldn't afford when she'd already needed to gain more flesh on her bones. Rodney was practically twitching in his chair, vibrating with energy, while Radek seemed discomforted. But not leaving, not Radek. He wanted to know more about the city too, and if Rodney was going to press the issue, Radek would be there beside him.
"John, you have to provide more information."
"I filed a report," John said, trying for casual but afraid he sounded surly.
"Come on, John, even you can't call that a report," Elizabeth said dryly.
"It's got the highlights."
Rodney leaped in, which really, John had been waiting for since they all sat down. "But almost no information. You must have talked to it sometimes. Don't tell me even you could have spent every minute fucking it."
"I'm not talking about that," John snarled.
"Fine! No one cares, okay? We don't want to know about your sordid sex life – "
"Well, actually," Radek inserted, and everyone turned to stare at him. "It would be interesting to know if there was anything different, anything unusual."
"No." And this time Rodney glared at Radek, which was a nice change from having him glare at John. "The Colonel is entitled to that much privacy." Turning back to John, he added, "But Christ, John, we're living in it, and it wouldn't even talk to us. It wouldn't even say hello."
Rodney looked disheartened, and for the first time John considered how much it must have hurt Rodney's pride, that the City-as-Elizabeth refused point blank to talk to anyone but him. Rodney had done more for Atlantis than anyone else, fixing systems, making repairs, working his heart out to get everything running. But John got the lucky break of being born with a strong ATA gene, and City loved him.
"It knows Red Dwarf," he found himself saying, which he should have said before, if nothing else for the amusement value of Rodney's mouth dropping open.
"It watches television?"
"It watches us. Everything we do. Me, mostly, because it associates me with the Ancients. But all of us." This was awkward as hell, talking about bedroom chats with his lover, while in the presence of the man he truly wanted. Why couldn't it actually have been Rodney who'd snuck in his bed that night? He needed to get out of here before this meeting became even more excruciating. "Look," he pushed away from the conference table, standing up, "I'll just write down everything I remember, okay? Everything I can think of. I'll give you a better report tomorrow."
"Take your time," Rodney offered, popping up too. "Comprehensiveness is more vital than speed."
Radek's eyes blinked behind his glasses as he suggested, "Maybe we can give you some questions to ask. For the next time you see it. There are things we need to know, questions about the systems that would help our work."
John knew he must look appalled at Radek's suggestion. "I don't know that I will be seeing it again. It hasn't come back since it helped with Lorne's people." He glanced over at Rodney, wanting to see his reaction to that news. There was a flash of emotion on Rodney's face, which John could have sworn was relief, before his face went carefully blank. John fled.
John's prediction turned out to be wrong, as he discovered when he walked into his bedroom that night to see City sitting in his armchair. "City." John crossed his bedroom, kneeling by City. He took City's hands, Rodney's hands, in his own. "I'm glad you came. I need to talk to you." He heard his own voice, low and earnest and a little scared. He believed that City would accept his decision without argument, but it was a little unnerving to imagine differently. The life of everyone in Atlantis was in City's power, and while it had never shown anger, break-ups had a tendency to upset...well, people. Who knew if a city could be pissed off by rejection?
City looked at him oddly and opened his mouth, but John closed it quickly with a brief, sweet kiss. "Please, let me talk."
John had to grin, because sometimes City did sound so like Rodney. But then the awareness of what he needed to discuss crashed through him again, and he gazed down and away.
"Is there something you don't want to tell me?"
"Look...we can't do this anymore. I appreciate what you've done for me, more than I can ever say. But Rodney..."
"What about Rodney?"
"Rodney's gone ape shit over you. He thinks – hell, I'm not sure what he thinks. That I'm fucking his prettiest lab tech and despoiling her by doing so, I guess. I can't - " John had to stop, and sunk further down, sitting on the floor between City's legs, his head resting on City's thigh. Their hands had separated, and City was stroking his head.
"What can't you do?"
"I can't hurt him more than I already have." But it was already hurting, the thought of losing the relief and peace he'd found in City's arms, knowing he'd have nothing left but the snarky friendliness he'd shared with Rodney. But better to lose City, if that's what it took to make Rodney stop snarling at him. He'd write up everything he could remember City saying, and tell them City wasn't coming back. Case closed, mission completed, over and out, Rodney can you forget now that I've hid this from you? That I've lied to everyone? And try to forgive me? He stroked City's thigh in time with the strokes in his hair, amazed as always at City's attention to detail, the weave of the trousers a perfect match for his own. "Maybe you could talk to him too? He's got the gene now; he's more like the Ancients. I think that would make him happy."
"And does what he feels matter to you?"
John shifted a little, turning to look at City, and in doing so, he couldn't help but notice that City was half-hard. John froze, staring at City's crotch, and his breath stopped in his chest.
John took a deep breath, and with the rush of air came the smell of man and newly applied cologne. City always had a clean neutral scent. "Christ!" He recoiled, jerking to his feet, backing away. "Rodney?"
And City – no, Rodney, not City, this was Rodney and John didn't know why he hadn't recognized that in an instant – lunged up after him. "Yes, Rodney! Christ, John, you've been fucking me? I'm your animated doppelganger?"
"Rodney, I, please," John babbled, still backing away. "Look, this isn't what – "
"What I think? What I think?" Rodney's hand lashed out, bopping John on the side of the head. The blow wasn't hard enough to hurt but definitely made an impact. "I'm thinking I want to know why the hell you've been fucking an animated doppelganger when you could have been fucking me!"
"Rodney?" He knew he should say something more articulate, more intelligent, but Rodney's reaction had frozen his brain.
"Yes, Rodney! Not Atlantis!" Rodney curled his hands into John's shirt, pulling him close, and kissing him. And that was the last proof John needed, because Rodney's kiss was hot and frantic and demanding, so very Rodney and not City's cool, easy comfort.
"Oh God, Rodney," he moaned into Rodney's mouth, and surrendered to the kiss, to the anger and the force, understanding Rodney's need to inflict pain with the pleasure, his mouth bruising John's with his need. John rested his hands on Rodney's waist, accepting, opening his mouth, exploring Rodney's mouth as well as he could with Rodney's tongue lashing into his own.
They were both breathing hard when Rodney released John's mouth enough to talk. "What did you do? The two of you? What did you do?"
Relief gave John the strength to tease. "I thought you respected my privacy."
"That was when I thought you were despoiling my prettiest lab tech and I couldn't bear to hear the details. What did you do with it? With my face and my body?"
"He blew me and I fucked him." The words came easily, no need to snarl like in the conference room, because now he could be honest. And coarse too, because he wanted to see if that would make Rodney excited and bothered, on edge. "I fucked his ass and every time I wondered if it was as tight as yours would be."
Rodney liked that honesty a lot, John could tell by the way his breath broke and his pupils dilated. "You'll get to find out," Rodney promised. "Eventually."
John's toes curled in his boots because Rodney wasn't like City. Rodney would demand retribution, force John to grovel for his sins, and the idea of groveling at Rodney's feet was unexpectedly arousing. John dared to slide his hands down Rodney's hips, under his long blue shirt, and back up, resting them again on Rodney's torso, right above the belt line. Rodney's skin was smooth and warm under his hands. "Whatever you want, Rodney. Anything."
It didn't surprise John when Rodney tugged downwards on his shirt, forcing John to his knees. John went willingly, his eyes in line with Rodney's crotch, the fabric of his trousers stretched by his erection. "Suck me. Blow me."
John's hands shook a little as they worked on the fastenings of Rodney's pants, because this wasn't City, with its limited understanding of humans. This was Rodney, who was geeky as hell, but surely had had really good blowjobs in the past. The distention made the zipper hard to manage, but finally John coaxed it down, and tugged on Rodney's trousers and boxers, freeing his erection, which swung out, stiff and ready and absolutely gorgeous.
"You never blew it?"
"It didn't get hard," John replied, his voice thick with lust as his tongue licked on the head of Rodney's dick, tasting the first drops of precome on the tip. "There wouldn't have been any point."
John licked down the shaft, Rodney's dick so alive and warm under his tongue. He moaned a little at this pleasure, at the visible evidence that Rodney was swollen and hard for him. For him. He brought his hands up, fondling Rodney's balls, stretching the loose skin, wanting to discover everything Rodney liked.
"So long, I've wanted this for so long," Rodney whispered.
"Not as long as I have." He rubbed his chin against Rodney's cock, feeling Rodney twitch at the bristly sensation of his stubble, licking quickly to make amends. Breathing heavily, he savored Rodney's musky smell, the real scent of a man. Then the other side, his tongue flicking, paying devotion to the underside, to the vein that ran its length, until he reached the tip again, and swallowed as much as he could, taking Rodney deep into his mouth.
Rodney gave a wavering laugh. "We can argue later over who's wanted this longer." His voice went husky as he said, "I want to fuck your mouth."
John just hummed, signifying yes, that was exactly what he wanted, and Rodney rolled his hips, thrusting in and out. Pushing Rodney's trousers further down his thighs, John grasped Rodney's ass, that superbly rounded ass, and squeezed hard, feeling the flex of his muscles. It was lusty and wonderful and everything John had dreamed of, but when John felt the throbbing in his mouth, Rodney jerked back, yanking his cock out of John's mouth, away from John's lips. John lunged forward, but it was too late, Rodney shaking as he came, his sperm gushing out to land out the floor. "You should have come in my mouth," John bitched, even as his tongue darted out, licking Rodney's cock to catch the last few drops, savoring the taste.
Rodney's eyes were wide, his body still quivering as he dropped back to sit on the bed. "You – Christ, you wanted me to?"
"Don't be so fucking politely Canadian, Rodney." Crawling on his knees, John approached Rodney, tugging his head down so he could capture Rodney's lips in a long kiss. "I want it all, Rodney. Everything." He climbed into Rodney's lap, straddling him. "Will you?" he asked, bringing one of Rodney's hand to his fly. "Jack me off?"
"Do you have lube? Or didn't it need that?"
"I thought you were going to make me beg for that. Wait for that."
Rodney pushed John off his lap. John could have fought but let himself fall to the floor, his feet tucked on the side of the mattress, Rodney's feet between his spread-eagled thighs. "I changed my mind," Rodney said. "I want you to fuck me. Fuck me like you fucked him."
Those were all the words John needed to twist up and stalk to the bathroom, returning with the lube to find Rodney rapidly stripping. City had done a good job imitating him, but it was even better now, to see Rodney naked, his shoulders hunched a little with self-consciousness, his hands fidgeting like he wanted to cover his genitals.
"Jesus," John said reverently, tossing the lube on the bed and stripping his own clothes, staring with absolute intentness at Rodney.
"It's not like you haven't seen it."
"It's not the same. It's so much better to know it's really you, it's not a substitute."
"Yes. YES." Naked himself, John stepped forward, wrapping his arms around Rodney, and they kissed and kissed, long and wet, caressing each other, until Rodney gave his cock a tug and said, "We need to take care of this." Rodney threw the bedclothes back and lay on his stomach, clutching the pillow in his arms, tucking it under his head, turning to see John. "Only don't expect anything more from me, okay? I think I'm down for that count. You give a hell of a blowjob, Colonel."
"If you think I'm going to let you get away with only coming once, you've got another think coming, McKay," John growled, swiftly covering Rodney. He grabbed the lube and popped the top of the bottle, squirting it into the crevice of Rodney's ass.
"Don't promise more than you can deliver."
"Oh, I'll deliver. Don't worry about that." John rested his body on Rodney, counting on his solid build to handle John's weight. Reaching between their bodies, he found the crevice and the lube, smoothing it into Rodney's skin, letting Rodney get accustomed to his touch before he dug one finger into his opening. He'd never been sure if lube was necessary with City, using it more as a formality. City's muscles hadn't clenched on him, hadn't fought him. But Rodney...oh yeah. Rodney's body was tight and hot and powerful, the muscles contracting, squeezing John's fingers as he diligently worked on opening them, stretching Rodney wide.
Four fingers would do it fine, John figured, and Rodney's hips were beginning to give little jerks, as John pulled his hand out, lined up his cock and drove himself slowly, persistently in. John's dick didn't want caution and care. John's dick wanted to shove in, fuck Rodney hard, and come fast. But John's mind was in control of his dick, even if only barely, and John was going to make good on his promise.
Languid and easy and all the way in and all the way out, every single quarter inch, his torso resting on Rodney's back, his hands playing with Rodney's cock and balls, and John was infinite in his patience. Rodney was reacting, his dick filling with blood, lengthening and hardening, but John didn't waver in his steady tempo. This was the first time, and he wanted to make a memory that would last forever.
He loved everything, his lips nuzzling into the back of Rodney's short hair, tasting Rodney's hair and the skin at the nape of his neck, the way Rodney's solid body supported his, the tenseness with which Rodney's hands dug into his pillow, scrunching the fabric as tightly as Rodney's ass clenched John's cock. John's thighs rubbed on Rodney's, sweaty, slick flesh grinding together, their balls swinging and slapping each other in time to John's slow pace.
Then Rodney came, unexpectedly and explosively, giving a long pained moan, his ass squeezing, making John come too, spurting into Rodney's ass, and it was a good thing that Rodney's weight held him, or John might have toppled to the floor, torn apart by the pleasure coursing through his body.
"So are you going to forgive me?" John asked, hearing the nervousness and cockiness in his voice, not sure if now was a good time to bring up the whole thing with City, but wanting it resolved and behind them.
"That was a start. A definite start. A really good start. I'll let you do that some more. And some other things. And then we'll see."
John smiled, amused at Rodney's babbling. City had been great, but now he and Rodney would be together, and that was the best thing of all.
Sometime in the night, John woke, aware that he and Rodney were curled into each other's arms, and that someone was sitting on the bed. "City?" he asked sleepily.
"John." And it was City, with its soft version of Rodney's voice.
"We can see, John. We understand." City's soft lips brushed on his, and the lights went on around the bed.
"While there is a certain hotness in watching myself and John," Rodney said sharply, the 'back the hell away from my lover' warning evident in every word, "he's no longer available for you."
City only appeared amused by Rodney's glare. "Of course not," it agreed. "He has always been yours."
"This is why you came as Elizabeth," John said suddenly, stunned at City's manipulation.
"You would have found some way to free your people without us," City said. "But you could not free yourself. You hated what we did as much as you desired it. We do not understand this."
"It has to do with the American military and insane rules about not sleeping with team members and some time when he's dressed and it's not the middle of the night, I'm sure John would love to explain it to you," Rodney snarked. "Only don't look like me anymore, because he's not mistaking us again."
City laughed, and then it was Ford. That hurt a little, to see Ford so carefree and without the damage from the Wraith enzyme. "We like you. You have been changed since you came here, to be more like John. We may come talk to you sometime."
And then Ford was gone, leaving only him and Rodney. "I'm not sure I like it."
"It grows on you," John answered, thinking down the lights and curling closer to Rodney. One day he'd explain to Rodney that regs had never been the problem. He would have damned the regs a long time ago, if he hadn't thought Rodney was straight. Why the hell did the man babble so much about Sam Carter? They'd have to have a few long talks, in between all the hot sex and snarking. Later. "And it brought us together."
"Yes. Well." Rodney yawned. "I guess I'll talk to it then."
John smiled in the darkness, recognizing Rodney's façade of disinterest. He'd be all over City the next time it appeared, wanting to learn everything he could. He was looking forward to seeing Rodney and City-as-Ford interact. But that was in the future and for tonight, with his lover cradled in his arms, John fell asleep.