John loved to suck cock. Always had done, since he was a scrawny teenager and discovered it was a good way to stop the big kids from beating him up. Rodney would probably never believe that, if John were ever to tell him, with his ideal of John as Kirk, but he'd been pretty skinny as a kid and the jocks weren't kind. Especially when they knew who his dad was.
And ever since Billy Joe Henderson in the locker room, John had developed a rep for being a pretty, cock-sucking slut. He didn't mind, because mostly, it was true. He'd dispute the pretty, but it seemed to be most people's favorite way to describe him, male or female, so John went with it.
Since those early days in high school, John had learned to suck cock like a pro. He knew exactly how to draw it out or make a guy come fast and hard and was expert in finding someone's hot spots and working them ruthlessly. It was it's own kind of power, having that much control over someone's pleasure and John used it to keep guys at a distance.
He'd gotten to be pretty good with women as well, as a defense mechanism when he'd had to cover for the fact that actually, he really preferred men, but wanted to fly even more than he wanted sex.
John reflected that it was just as well he had developed that skill set, as he knelt waiting for the next person to be presented to him. His hands were tied behind his back and he was blindfolded, so he had no idea what was going to happen. So far, he'd sucked three cocks and eaten out two pussies, so he thought that maybe another woman was coming next, but he had no real idea.
He couldn't come himself, his cock was sheathed in leather which covered the shaft, but left the head bare and his balls were restrained with straps. He was dripping pre-come and the leather must be soaked by now, as he heard someone else approach.
A head in his hair tilted his head forward, the size suggesting a woman. John opened his mouth obediently, hoping it wasn't a young man instead. The hand tugged him forward and John almost over-balanced, making a noise in his throat as he struggled to stay in position without the use of his hands.
The hand patted his hair once, an apology of sorts and then he was being gently guided forward, the strong scent of aroused woman filling his nostrils. John spent some time getting to know what the woman liked, concentrating on her sounds and the way she moved to guide his movements. Slowly, he realized that the voice he could hear encouraging him was familiar. Abruptly, he was dizzyingly hard in the cock sheath as he recognized Teyla's touch on him. She was crooning to him now, using his name as she praised his efforts.
John redoubled his efforts, determined to do the best he could for Teyla, to please her, make her happy with him. He'd always been attracted to her, but resisted the lure, not wanting to risk losing her from the team when he inevitably fucked up with her and blew it. This opportunity was a gift he intended to make the most of.
Eventually, Teyla's noises got more urgent and John knew he had to let her fall, before it went over the edge from pain to pleasure. He heard her sharp cry and the rush of liquid that heralded her orgasm, so he softened his tongue to tiny, gentle licks, until she pushed him back. Teyla kept her hand in place for a few moments longer, petting him, before withdrawing.
John swayed in place, lost in a haze of unfulfilled arousal, as he wondered if this meant he got to suck Rodney or Ronon next. It was an exciting thought and he really hoped that he'd done enough to get them a good deal out of this. It was by far the strangest trust ritual they'd been asked to participate in, but if it meant John got to live out some of his fantasies, he wasn't complaining. Writing the mission report would be a bitch, though, as would Carson's post-mission check.
John got his wish; the next cock was Ronon's – the scent of leather was a dead giveaway, as no one else here was wearing anything similar. Ronon was bigger than any of the other guys he'd sucked so far and John's jaw was soon aching. Oh yeah, gonna be really hard to hide this one from Beckett, John told himself.
Fortunately, Ronon must have recognized John's predicament and held John's head in place, fucking his mouth in fast, hard strokes. John was grateful that he seemed to know what he was doing, though, allowing John to breathe in between his thrusts and he came so quickly that in other circumstances, John might have been smug, as it was he was just glad.
Rather than another woman afterwards, as John half expected, he felt a man's hand in his hair. Rodney had touched John often enough over the last couple of years, John was familiar with his touch and he couldn't help arching into the palm resting on his scalp.
"Sh," John heard, realizing then that he was whining steadily in the back of his throat. He felt his face burn with the strength of his blush and knew even his ears would be bright red. Rodney's grip meant he couldn't duck away, but could only kneel there and take whatever Rodney did to him.
He was surprised to realize that Rodney was murmuring quiet reassurances to him, stroking his hair and John felt himself relax once more. Rodney obviously noticed as well, because his hand moved away and touched John's mouth briefly, then John felt the head of Rodney's cock rub across his lips.
John obediently opened up, but Rodney only slipped the head of his cock onto John's tongue, his hand coming back to grip John's head hard, when he tried to take more. Rodney rubbed his cock on John's tongue, then over his lips once more. John knelt there, mouth open, desperate for more, but unable to move forward to get what he wanted.
Rodney's free hand cupped John's chin, pushing it gently. John got the hint and closed his mouth, sucking the head of Rodney's cock. Rodney patted him once, then just held John in place, so John sucked harder, hearing the slick sounds of what must be Rodney stroking the rest of his cock. John knelt there, listening to Rodney's sex noises, trying to memorize it all for the future.
A sharp tug made John whine, he was getting a bit sick of all the hair-pulling to be honest, but he obediently opened up and let Rodney's cock slip free. He knelt there, waiting to see what would happen next. He heard Rodney stroke himself once, then grunt and John was thankful for the blindfold as he felt hot come splash onto his face. John was groaning in tandem with Rodney, wishing he could come as well.
Then Rodney's hand was petting him gently and John heard him whisper briefly, "Just one more, John," before he pulled away. John shivered, suddenly feeling bereft, wanting nothing more than to be able to see his team, see Rodney and be back home in Atlantis.
The last person was a woman and she used a strong grip to guide John's mouth on her. She must have been as desperate as John, after the long wait, because a guttural cry signaled her orgasm very quickly.
Then hands were on John's wrists, freeing him from the rope and he felt the blindfold being lifted away as well. He blinked slowly, glad the room was only dimly lit, as he took in the faces of his team and saw the head woman, Ilia, fastening her clothing. She must have been last, he guessed.
John watched Teyla speak to her, then she followed her people out the door, leaving the team alone in the room.
"Come on, John," Rodney said, urging John to his feet.
John swayed a little, groaning as his body protested the hard, cold floor he'd spent so long knelt on. He was too old for that sort of thing, really. They hadn't even given him a rug, or anything.
"Here, John," Teyla got his attention and John looked to see her holding an open canteen to him.
John reached for it, but grunted in pain, as his shoulder twinged. Ronon made a noise and before anyone could say anything, swept John off his feet and carried him over to a bed in the corner.
"Hey!" John protested. But it came out in a croak and Ronon just ignored him, setting him down gently on the covers.
Then the three of them were there, touching him, rubbing his arms and legs, giving him water to drink and John decided to go with the flow.
"What about this?" Ronon said, touching John's still-bound cock with one finger tip. John made an embarrassing noise at that, suddenly noticing how turned on he was. Ronon grinned and Teyla chuckled at him. John looked around, wondering where Rodney had gone.
"Buddy?" he managed to say, seeing Rodney over by the door.
"I'll just," Rodney waved at the door.
"Rodney," John said, pleadingly.
Rodney looked back at him, discomfort and arousal warring on his face. John gave him a blatant pout and puppy dog eyes, just to hear Rodney's sound of disgust, as he headed back towards the bed.
"For heaven's sake, Sheppard," he sniped and John grinned, victorious.
"Touch me, please?" he asked.
"Of course, John," Rodney said, looking pleased now, climbing onto the bed.
Ronon and Teyla shifted around and John was glad they realized he wanted them there too. All three of them began to touch, stroke and caress, leaving John drowning in sensation. Then he felt the leather being gently pulled away from his cock and balls and John moaned at the feel of the air on his over-sensitized skin.
"Please," he begged, not caring who touched him, just wanting someone to relieve the pressure and ache.
"We've got you, John," Teyla reassured him and then a big, warm hand was on his cock and John yelled, coming with the first hint of pressure, body shaking with the force of his orgasm, vision going dark as he gave himself over to the pleasure.
When John came back to himself, he was clean and dry, wrapped in blankets and his team, hearing them whispering above him. He made an interrogatory noise, feeling a hand pat him and shush him. Figuring they had things in hand, for once John let himself go, relaxing into the lassitude he felt and drifting into sleep once more. Tomorrow could take care of itself.