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First Love, Flying

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The first time John met Rodney McKay, he wasn't all that impressed. The man was loud and brash and an absolute know-it-all. The fact that he really did know just about everything didn't make him any easier to swallow. The only thing John had really liked about the man was being pushed into the command chair. And that was less about Rodney and more about the chair, which came to life beneath him and thrummed through his body like a giant sex toy. That had been pretty fucking awesome.

So when John debated whether or not to go to Atlantis, it was the chair (along with his dead-end career at McMurdo) that he thought about. Not Rodney McKay.


The first time he met Teyla Emmagen and her people, John found himself overwhelmed by three thoughts: 1) Teyla was pretty fucking awesome; 2) stout tea was pretty fucking bad; and 3) the Wraith were pretty fucking scary. He was happy that he wasn't in charge of things. After what happened to Sumner, John thought the Wraith were really fucking scary. And he wished he could go back to not being in charge. But it seemed that command was to be his, at least until the Wraith sucked the life out of him.

Being in command turned out to be not so bad, though. It meant that he could decide to be the leader of his own team and handpick who he wanted in the field with him. The first several trips through the gate and back, he found himself reconsidering his choice of Rodney. Teyla and Ford were great. Rodney... was Rodney. He was still that loud, brash, fucking know-it-all he'd been in Antarctica, but he was growing on John. Like a fungus.

A delicious, thirty-five-dollars-a-pound fungus. But a fungus.

A tall, broad-shouldered, blue-eyed fungus. But still. A fungus.


John's growing attraction to Rodney didn't really bother him. He'd been with men before; he was comfortable with who he was. Mostly. His marriage to Nancy had been about his career and pleasing his father. His divorce had been about pleasing himself. The men he'd fucked after the divorce had most definitely been about pleasing himself.

He was careful. Always. He didn't sleep with other men in the Air Force. He didn't get deeply involved with civilians either; he kept things casual enough that his next assignment would never mean heartbreak or good-byes. He met men in bars and went home with them. Maybe had a repeat now and then. But it was never anything serious. His first love was flying and always would be.

He quickly fell in love with the puddlejumpers on Atlantis. He was equally in love with the city itself. When he walked the halls, he could sense her moving over his body, invading his mind. It was like that day in the chair, only not as strong. When he flew a jumper, though, she was all around him, singing through him, invading his mind and body. It was a connection like none he'd ever known before.

The first chance he got, about two weeks into their time on Atlantis, John slipped down to the jumper bay in the middle of the night and took the pilot's seat in Jumper One. He wasn't going anywhere, he just wanted some time in his ship with no one else watching, witnessing, intruding on their connection. He closed his eyes and let the feelings wash over and through him. It was better than the best sex he'd ever had and he found himself getting hard. He pressed the heel of his hand to his crotch and bit his lip. He couldn't do this here. Despite it being the middle of the night, people were working, and someone could easily walk in. But John couldn't help himself. He ran his hand up and down his cock. Even through his BDUs and boxers he felt different than he ever had before, more sensitive somehow, more aroused. He reached for his zipper and --

"Sheppard. What are you --" Rodney's words stopped. John's hand stopped. They both froze -- John staring at Rodney's face, Rodney staring at John's crotch. "I... I..." His eyes flitted up to meet John's gaze. "I can't believe... are you seriously... You could get" -- he waved his hand around, motioning from John's crotch to the controls -- "on the controls."

John's initial reaction was to freak out, but at that he laughed. "Jesus, McKay. You're worried about the controls?"

"Well, yes. What if you ... what if something's damaged? How are you going to explain that?"

"Well, I hadn't planned on getting caught, so I probably wouldn't have said anything."

"Oh great. That's real mature. Damage the Ancient technology and slink off and hide."

John wanted to say that it was a moot point, that after being caught by Rodney, after their little bickering session, it didn't matter because he wasn't hard anymore. Except his state of arousal had only increased since Rodney had entered the jumper. And it wasn't from being caught. John wasn't an exhibitionist. Hell, he generally liked sex in a very dark room so he didn't have to see how his partner was looking at him.

But this was different. There was a darkness in Rodney's eyes and a stiffness in his body (including a very special stiffness in his pants). Combined with the way he waved his hands -- big, strong hands -- around as he ranted, John didn't want to excuse himself and return to his quarters. He wanted to stay right where he was. He wanted to stay there with Rodney and finish what he'd started. Finish it with Rodney.

For the first time in his career, John wanted to break his self-imposed rule about fraternization. He wanted to see if the loud, brash, know-it-all got louder or got uncharacteristically quiet during sex. For possibly the first time in his life, John wanted pleasure not just for himself, but with someone. He wanted Rodney McKay. It was disconcerting, out of the norm, jarring. And yet somehow it felt right.

The rear hatch closed at a simple thought; when Rodney startled and looked back at the door raising, John got out of the pilot's seat and moved toward him. Rodney started to say something, but John stopped him with a finger to his lips, then replaced his finger with his mouth. The kiss was soft and gentle for all of two seconds and then Rodney kissed him back; for the first time he could remember, John relaxed and gave himself over. Before this he'd always been in control, guarding his emotions, leading the pace, deciding what was and was not going to happen. But for loud, brash, know-it-all Rodney McKay, John just gave it all up.

He placed his hands on Rodney's hips and held on while Rodney pulled them closer together, led them to one of the benches, sat down and pulled John down to straddle his lap. Rodney broke the kiss only for a moment to whisper, "Oh god, I can't believe this is happening." And John found himself smiling as Rodney's mouth met his again. The words "yes" and "please" and "fuck" were mumbled against skin as mouths sought out the taste of skin -- biting, licking, kissing along jawlines, down necks, across shoulders.

John didn't remember losing his shirt or unfastening Rodney's pants. He just knew that they somehow ended up naked, John stretched out along the bench with Rodney above him. Their bodies moving together, Rodney's hips cradled between his legs, cock against cock, mouth against mouth, driving higher and closer and then Atlantis was vibrating through him like that first day in the chair. The jumper came to life all around them, the HUD lighting up, the engines coming on. Rodney stopped moving for a moment, but John grabbed his hips and arched up against him. "Don't stop. It's okay. She's happy."

"She?" Rodney looked at him like he thought John was losing his mind. Maybe he was.

"Atlantis." John pulled Rodney's hips down again, rocked against him, encouraged him to move. "Don't stop, Rodney. Please."

And they were moving together again, kissing again. John ran his hands up Rodney's sides and down his back, trailed his fingers along his ass, teasing him. "Jesus, John. I'm --" His words cut off as his body went rigid and wetness splashed across John's cock and belly and Atlantis sang and the feeling was too much and John pressed Rodney down tight to him as his hips jerked once more and his own come spread between them.


The first thing John did after Rodney got the gene therapy was take him back to Jumper One in the middle of the night. And this time when the jumper came to life, when Atlantis sang in pleasure for them, Rodney felt it too. Not as strongly as John, but it was there. He got it. And after they cleaned up and got dressed, Rodney was insufferably loud and brash as he dragged John down to the chair room and started asking question after question about the city and the AI and John's connection. Rodney wanted to know everything, and not for the first time and most definitely not the last, John wanted to give that to him.