Rodney McKay was a virgin. Anyone who knew his track record with members of any sex, least of all those of the opposite sex, would never greet that news with total disbelief. As far as Rodney was concerned, it was an uncomfortable fact of his life that he simply had no people skills when it came to dating. He snorted softly. According to most everyone he met, he had no people skills--period--but what bothered him right at this moment was his track record for dating and in particular, his upcoming date with Katie Brown.
He mused that part of the problem was that he had not had a lot of practice with dating, which was not entirely his own fault. He was a genius and had shown his potential from an incredibly young age. While most kids of four were learning to share and socialize, Rodney was doing trigonometry. His parents had little idea of how to relate to him as he was so different from his older sister, Jeannie. It had not helped that he was born out of a last ditch attempt to save a failing marriage and each parent came to resent him for a different reason. Basically, his arrival fucked up both their lives, keeping them bound to one another when even an idiot--or a four-year-old child--could see that their marriage was well beyond salvation. Rodney had pointed this out on a number of occasions without seeing any end in sight but his parents just could not accept the words of a small child over that of an expensive marriage counselor. They persisted in the marriage and, eventually, their constant snipes and verbal battles became so much background noise as Rodney retreated into the world of astronomy and mathematics, both pure and applied.
The day he started to take the applied math and its mechanical application a stage further by taking apart the microwave oven to see how all the components fit together was the day his parents finally agreed on one thing; he needed special measures.
Fear had held him back at first, deliberately frustrating his parents when they took him to see a 'gifted child' specialist. He pretended that he did not understand, deliberately making serious errors in the incredibly simple equations put before him. The polite smile on the specialist's face held a look of long sufferance, as if this was an every day occurrence dealing with parents who were, mistakenly, convinced that their child was the next Einstein or Mozart.
The train ride home had been several hours of hell, and the conductor had come close to ordering his family off when his parents' argument went from beyond rants and rage to the verge of physical violence.
Six months later, Rodney sat alone in the outer office of that specialist. He was a week shy of his seventh birthday and he had traveled seventy-eight miles at an average of twenty-one point eight miles per hour after stowing away on a train while pretending to be part of a convenient family waiting at the station. No one stopped him, and no one had missed him until the call went through to his parents.
He sighed dramatically, knowing his parents would be fighting by now, blaming each other for the lack of parental supervision. In truth, he had counted on their inability to talk to each other to give him the time he needed to make his escape.
While he waited for child services to pick him up and take him home, Rodney played a mental game of what he would later know as Prime, Not Prime. The receptionist smiled and offered him water, which he accepted gratefully because one of the kids he had pretended to be with on the train had taken his bottle. When the receptionist started to try and talk to him he rebuffed her firmly.
"I'm tying to think," he snapped back, before sighing in exasperation just the way his mother would sigh when he interrupted her as she marked up student papers. "Can you tell that lady I want to do her test now?"
With another hour to go until someone could collect him, the specialist agreed, just to humor him, no doubt, and he shocked her by answering all the questions verbally, though more importantly, correctly.
After that, he never looked back. By sixth grade he was being questioned by the CIA over his school project and he never saw seventh grade or above, already too far beyond those years academically. Instead, at thirteen years of age he became one of the youngest undergraduates to grace the lecture halls of one of Canada's finest universities--and a social outcast among his so-called peers.
Any interest in sex had no outlet because no one in their late teens and early twenties was interested in a thirteen-year-old freak of nature.
Rodney grimaced in remembrance because those were the exact words he had overheard one day as he waited for the start of a lecture on Quantum Mechanics. There was nothing he could do to change that opinion except for leaving the university and pretending that he did not have a brilliant mind, and that was simply out of the question. While most of his peers were out partying and having sex, he studied, and by the time he had reached the age when biology started making higher demands on his pubescent body, he did not have a clue what to do about it. The older he got, the more tense he became when people started to question his nonexistent sex life until he realized that they simply wanted to see that, despite his brilliance, he was still a normal, healthy, well-adjusted, red-blooded male according to their own parochial set of criteria.
Rodney obliged by making up exactly what they wanted to hear...and so life went on...until now. Now being this moment of terror as he stood several feet away from Katie's door without Cadman fighting for control of his body and without Carson as a semi-reluctant chaperon. His terror stemmed from the knowledge that of the two kisses he had given over those few days with Cadman stuck inside his head, the one that had thrilled him the most was the one with Carson. Oh, he had made a big scene once Cadman released control back to him following that kiss, finding it easier to hide his shock and confusion behind a facade of, strangely enough, the truth. After all, he had been shocked and confused but not in the way everyone believed. Since then, even the thought of kissing a woman had left him feeling cold inside as he recognized something that should have smacked him on the head two decades ago.
He preferred men.
He liked their stronger bodies, their muscle and sinew. He liked their scent, and the way they walked and talked. In particular, he liked a certain dark haired, lean, muscular, intelligent, military type, which differed from his previously held preference only by hair color...and gender.
A sudden change in preference of hair coloring could be quibbled over as taking on a more mature outlook on life since finding himself the main delicacy in the Pegasus galaxy's food chain. The change in gender preference was another matter entirely. How did he justify that to his inner psychiatrist? And now that he'd discovered this, hitherto, unknown aspect of himself, how was he supposed to resolve the issue?
Now, twelve hours after the events on the Aurora, he was back on Atlantis, dressed casually, and pacing the darkened corridor outside Katie's door wishing the wraith had got a hold of him because he could not put off this second date one more time without Katie becoming incredibly suspicious. Yet, at this moment in time, death by having the life sucked out him sounded marginally better than the torture he was about to face, especially once Katie figured out that he had no interest in her whatsoever.
"Heard there was someone loitering around out here?"
Rodney jumped, heart racing while his mouth went bone dry. "Colonel! I was..."
"Another date with Dr. Brown?"
"As a matter of fact, I have," he forced a smug grin, not wanting to mention that he had found semi-plausible excuses for declining the past two offers of dinner. Silently he cursed Cadman for her interference when he had hoped this romance with Katie Brown might die a natural death by being completely ignored but half-veiled threats from Cadman had made him accept this time.
Rodney glanced at his watch. "Actually, I'm right on time."
John wrinkle his nose in that cute way that made Rodney want to-- What was he thinking? Rodney thought in shock, his mind going blank when John indicated towards her door, one eyebrow raised.
"Yes. Of course."
Rodney stared over his shoulder at the door that was just along the corridor, feeling even more embarrassed as Sheppard leaned nonchalantly against the wall with his arms still crossed loosely across his chest, and with that patent smirk twitching his lips while he continued to watch Rodney closely. The predatory gleam in his clear hazel-green eyes made Rodney swallow hard.
"Did you want to come too? I'm sure she won't mind. Carson--"
John gave too bright a smile. "I'd love to, Rodney."
"You would?" Rodney felt a jolt of surprise that rivaled the perverse surge of hope and relief combined, knowing he would have an excuse not to get too...physical with Katie if Sheppard was there too. Rodney had tried to elicit Carson's help on his date but just the mention of Katie and the word date in one sentence had his friend backing off in horror.
"Yeah. Can't think of any better way to spend my evening than sitting there watching you make out with Dr. Brown."
He knew his face had crumpled by the extra twitch of those oh so kissable lips. The raised eyebrow warned him that he had spent a tad too long staring at Sheppard's mouth. He covered his embarrassment with a cough.
"So that's a no then."
Sheppard sighed and pushed away from the wall. He placed both hands on Rodney's shoulders, turned him, and gentle steered him along the corridor, straight past Katie's door to the corner. One more tiny push and Rodney was, literally, around the bend and out of view of Katie's quarters.
"What are you..?" Rodney protested but Sheppard manhandled him with ease.
Sheppard held up a finger and Rodney knew what that meant: shut up and do as I say. Confused, he waited, eyes straying to his watch as Sheppard disappeared round the corner. He could hear the murmur of voices, one male and the other a recognizable female voice--Katie's voice.
Rodney debated disobeying Sheppard's order, fidgeting from one foot to the other and chewing on a thumb nail nervously. Eventually, he made a decision and stepped around the corner only to walk straight into Sheppard, who grabbed him by one arm in a bruising grip and dragged him away from the direction of Katie's room.
"What are you..? Where are you..?"
Rodney blustered, "I was hardly in need of rescue from Dr. Brown's clutches."
Sheppard stopped dead and eyed him critically. "No?"
"In fact, I believe that is the whole point of dating...to get into clutches."
"It is, is it?"
"I assure you, I was perfectly fine and looking forward to having dinner...and sex."
"Didn't look that way to me. Dinner...yeah. The clutches part? I'm not so sure about that."
"What did you say to her?" Rodney asked suspiciously.
"Only that you were otherwise detained and wouldn't be able to make your date tonight."
"You did," Rodney almost crumpled in relief and then realized that wasn't quite the idea he was supposed to give.
"Or any other night."
He straightened and feigned an expression of outrage. "You did? Well, you have no right to go around interfering in my sex--"
"No need to thank me, Rodney." Sheppard waved a hand in a flippant gesture. "Smelled really good though. Almost offered to take your place."
"It did?" Rodney looked back longingly along the corridor but Sheppard grabbed his arm again and began to steer him away.
"Commissary's got your favorite on tonight, and I'm starved."
"It has? You are?" he added in surprise.
A raised eyebrow followed. "What?"
Rodney shook his head as Sheppard seemed to be one of those people that tended to eat at the same time for each meal when not on duty. He glanced at his watch to verify what he already knew, that Sheppard should have been in the mess hall twenty minutes ago. It was the only truly regimented aspect of Colonel John Sheppard.
"Late meeting? Problem with the city or the--?"
He had not noticed being maneuvered into the transporter but the moment the door opened, the aroma of what passed for chicken stew assailed his senses and he stepped forward eagerly, already salivating from the smell alone. He turned back when he realized he was alone to find Sheppard watching him with an almost paternal air. A frown seemed to get the message across and Sheppard caught up with him, joining him as they moved along the line of plates and food trays. He grinned happily, murmuring softly in anticipated pleasure, easing away with his laden tray to head for the usual table.
Ronon and Teyla looked up in surprise.
"I thought you were eating with Dr. Brown this evening?"
"Change of plans," Sheppard stated, placing his tray on the table and taking the seat next to Teyla and opposite Rodney. "Hmm...this smells good for a change."
Ronon dipped his head, a familiar enigmatic smile gracing his mouth as if he knew something that Rodney didn't. As the first forkful of the stew and powdered mash ignited his taste buds, Rodney ceased to care, smiling and talking around mouthfuls of food. All thoughts of Katie Brown long forgotten as he soaked up the pleasure of being with people he considered friends.
Ronon and Teyla did not linger too long, having finished their meals some time earlier, leaving Rodney alone with Sheppard, debating the merits of football over hockey for what had to be the hundredth time since they came to the Pegasus galaxy. Rodney ate his dessert with relish, eyes widening in delight when Sheppard pushed his untouched dessert across the table towards him.
Sheppard nodded and smiled indulgently. "What say we go check out what's showing for movie night?"
"It's Chick Flick night."
"O-kay," Sheppard replied dubiously, licking his lower lip as if he had met some minor setback to his evening plans.
"No-no...might be a good one. Grodin---" Rodney swallowed in remembrance of the friend he had lost. "Grodin had said it was pretty good."
"Oh? What is it?"
"Some British romcom...that's romantic comedy."
"I know what a romcom is, Rodney."
"Four Weddings and a Funeral."
"Hell...Why not. We can always walk out if it gets too mushy."
Someone had set up the room like a miniature theater soon after they arrived in Atlantis, except with six rows consisting of several comfy couches rather than individual seats. The room was dark when they arrived, with the DVD menu already up on the screen waiting for someone to select PLAY. The entire front row was taken by a group of women, scientist and military combined, and the back row had a couple seated a little too closely for a purely platonic friendship. To Rodney's surprise, Sheppard grabbed Rodney's arm and dragged him to the farthest couch from the door on the back row and drew Rodney down beside him. He leaned over Rodney suddenly, blotting out his view of the room, grasping Rodney firmly to stop his struggles.
"Don't move," Sheppard whispered in the commanding tone that Rodney had learned to obey without question.
He froze, wondering how he could be in danger when no one else seemed to be panicking, but he understood the moment Sheppard moved back, seeing Carson and Laura Cadman take a seat in the second row--with Katie. He turned to Sheppard to suggest they leave before he was spotted but found Sheppard grinning at him brightly, his painful grip on Rodney's arm preventing him from rising.
"Movie's about to start," John whispered.
Ten minutes into the film Rodney had forgotten that Cadman, Carson and even Katie existed as he snickered quietly at the antics up on the large screen. That memory did not return until the lights rose to half-brightness as the end credits rolled when Katie rose from her seat and turned, her eyes meeting his before they flicked coolly over him to Sheppard. Rodney glanced the same way and found Sheppard leaning back in the couch all casual and relaxed, staring back at Katie, a slightly mocking smile playing about his lips. Only then did Rodney realize that, during the movie, Sheppard's hand had drifted to lie possessively upon Rodney's thigh and Sheppard made no attempt to remove it even when Katie's eyes dropped to that hand. By the time Rodney broke out of shock and decided to dislodge the hand, Katie had turned away, leaving Cadman staring at him in anger and Carson shaking his head in dismay. They trooped out without a backward glance.
"That went well," Sheppard drawled.
"Went well? Went well?!" Rodney knew his voice had upped several octaves by the strange look he was given as the rest of the audience filed out, and quickly lowered his voice. "Now she probably thinks I'm gay," he stated through gritted teeth.
"Or bi, at least," Sheppard added nonchalantly.
"I don't know what you're sounding so smug about or have you forgotten who she now thinks I'm being...bi with?" He snarled back in a low voice that would not carry beyond the two of them, expecting Sheppard to snatch his hand back in shocked realization but, instead, the fingers squeezed gently. Illicit spikes of heat and desire lanced straight up his leg and into his groin, momentarily stunning him with the intensity of his reaction to the press of those fingers.
Rodney gasped softly, shivering when Sheppard leaned over and whispered into his ear. "Why don't we take this some place private?"
Swallowing hard, Rodney felt completely out of his depth when Sheppard drew him to his feet and walked him to the transporter with a proprietary hand on his shoulder. He moved like an automaton, only shaking free of the stupor when they reached Sheppard's room. He balked on the threshold, heart thumping in his chest, his breathing too rapid and shallow.
"Hey, Rodney. Rodney. It's okay."
Sheppard...no...John walked him backwards gently and he sat down hard when the back of his knees hit the bed. A glass of tepid water appeared in his hand and he gulped it down, coughing when he almost drowned himself.
"Hey, hey, hey. Not so fast, Rodney."
John sank to the bed beside him, one strong thigh brushing up against Rodney's, the heat radiating through the coarse layers of uniform pants to sear his flesh beneath. The glass was removed from his numb fingers and placed aside on the nightstand, and then the warm hand returned, palm cupping his face, turning his chin until he was staring straight into John's face. He had never acknowledged John's eyes before, the unique swirls of colors that seemed to change depending on the light, one moment gray, another green, sometimes golden but always so clear, so bright, even when fatigue dragged at the corners. They were not oceans of crystal blue, or pools of green but he felt as if he was drowning in them as they came closer, closer, eyelashes feathering, closing as lips brushed against his cheek, against his eyelids before gently lighting upon his own lips. The gentle caress of lips tingled against sensitive nerve endings, almost tickling until the pressure increased, slowly, carefully until deepening into almost bruising strength. An agile tongue licked at him, flicking between his lips, stroking against his teeth until he surrendered, moaning softly as his mouth opened to his conqueror. A steadying hand behind his head held him firm, allowing him no retreat as the victor swept aside all remaining resistance, stabbing into him with deft strokes that licked and tasted and sucked upon his own tongue. The hand rubbing against the solid mass of his groin was his undoing. He could not breathe, could not think as his whole body burned with liquid fire racing through his veins instead of blood, igniting every cell, searing every nerve ending as he came hard.
As he spun down from his climax, the extent of his embarrassment hit him full force and he struggled to break free of the man holding him, too ashamed to look into those amazing, chameleon eyes lest he see ridicule in them but John refused to let him go.
"Please. Let me go!" he forced out, his voice breaking in shame but the hands upon him held fast.
"It's okay. Damn, Rodney...that was...that was amazing. Never seen anything so hot."
Rodney stilled, breathing heavily. "Really?" His voice cracked. "You're not pissed that...that..."
"Well, I kind of expected us to get naked before..." he waved one hand around, grinning broadly and Rodney risked looking into his eyes, relieved when he saw pleasure rather than disappointment.
"I'm so sorry. I've never..." It was his turn to try and explain with hand signals.
"With a guy?" John's eyes narrowed. "With anyone?"
Rodney felt the heat rush to his face again as John's eyes widened in shock, looking away as he waited for the ridicule to begin.
"Wow." John refused to let go and when Rodney risked another glance, he saw wonder and awe mingled with something else that Rodney could not even attempt to name but knew the emotion, whatever it was, was positive.
He froze as John began to slide down the zipper on his t-shirt before reaching for the waistband and encouraging Rodney to take it off, feeling even more vulnerable once John pushed him down on the bed. Clever fingers worked open his pants quickly, forcing him to raise his hips off the bed as the damp material was tugged down over his thighs and past his knees. His boots were unlaced and slipped off, his socks following before John dragged the last restrictive pieces of clothing from his body, leaving him completely naked. He watched through half-mast eyes as John stood up and removed his clothing too, drinking his fill of the lean, hairy form. A smooth column of hard flesh rose from a thatch of tight black curls, the swollen head glistening with precome. Rodney held his breath as John leaned over him, kneeling at the foot of the bed, hands splayed either side of Rodney's hips as his wicked tongue darted out to stroke across Rodney's spent flesh, lapping at the dampness of spilled semen.
He turned his head, muffling his whimpering cry as over-sensitive flesh sent flashes of pleasure and pain firing through him. He could feel his brain turn to mush as all his blood pooled south once more, his penis jerking as it refilled. John raised his head, a mischievous grin running from ear to ear.
"Looks like that only took the edge off.""What?" Rodney closed his eyes as another jolt of pure pleasure washed over him, flowing into his groin as a rough tongue swiped over the sensitive head of his semi-soft penis, dabbing at the bundle of nerve endings with small, sure strokes.
John looked up again, eyes dancing. "Nope. Just me, Rodney."
He could not resist watching as John coaxed his body back to full need, his tongue lathing the tip one last time before sucking it into his mouth and swirling his tongue over the head, pressing into the slit' licking and nibbling before finally pulling away with an audible pop. John licked swollen lips as he crawled up Rodney's body, coaxing Rodney to turn onto his side until they lay face to face, chest, belly and groins touching, legs wrapped around each other, adding to the exquisite sensation of cocks rubbing together. A hand squeezed between their close-pressed bellies, fingers wrapping around both of their straining flesh, holding them tight together as they rocked almost leisurely. Rodney panted as the sensations built slowly, moaning as John nuzzled against his throat, nibbling on his jaw before pressing against his mouth. This time his climax was warm, and mellow, like a thick blanket cast over him and he sobbed his pleasure into the possessive mouth latched onto his, swallowing the answering cry of passion as scalding semen spurted between them.
Now Rodney truly understood what was meant by the afterglow. His body felt warm and sated, incredibly sensitive and yet numb too. Fingers were brushing through the quickly cooling semen, painting pictures across his belly.
"That was..." Rodney fumbled, lost for words that could describe how amazing it had been for him.
"Amazing, glorious," John murmured and Rodney could only nod his agreement as his hands played through the dense forest of dark hair covering John's chest, teasing at a nipple as he began to explore the strange, new, incredible and wondrous tactile world of the flesh.
He stopped as a new thought struck him, a slow smile building to a huge grin.
Rodney McKay was--no longer--a virgin.