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He'd had sex with John Sheppard.

Despite the fact that he'd been awake and alert for the entire thing, and free of all outside influence, Rodney was still trying to make sense of it. He was tempted to decide it had been a hallucination, but there was no denying the evidence covering his chest and stomach. Or the presence of the naked man lying on his side in Rodney's bed, snoring softly, one arm over Rodney's waist.

The fact that the snore was kind of endearing was even stranger than the fact that he had John's come on his stomach.

The evening had started innocently enough, with John coming by to play chess. He played well, although with a lack of discernable strategy that Rodney found rather unsettling. It was, he supposed, precisely the kind of thinking which made it possible for John to defeat Kolya.

It had certainly made it possible for him to defeat Rodney.


Five moves into the game John leaned back in his seat, rocking the chair up onto its back legs. "What do you say we make the game more interesting?"

When John spoke that casually, trouble invariably followed. "How?" Rodney asked, his eyes narrowing.

"The winner gets to ask the loser a question, any question, and the loser has to answer it honestly."

Rodney considered that. As bets went it seemed innocuous enough, although John clearly had a question in mind. Rodney wanted to know what that question was. "All right," he said slowly, figuring if he won he could always ask what John's question had been. If he lost, well, he'd survived embarrassment before.

John picked up his king's pawn, moving it forward two spaces. "Cool."



Rodney surveyed the board. It was checkmate. He felt a flash of resentment. It was just like the damn piano. He had the technical expertise, but John had that indefinable something that separated a proficient player from a great one. Then his eyes met John's and the warmth in them made resentment impossible. He smiled back. "You win," he conceded, "Ask your question."

To Rodney's surprise, John's smile faded a little. He had been convinced that John had come up with something to ask that would provide John with plenty of teasing material. John sat up straight, putting all four legs of the chair back on the ground. "I… you…"

Rodney frowned, leaning forward in his chair, puzzled by John's hesitation.

His eyes falling from Rodney's face to the chessboard, John said in a hurried mumble, "Will you have sex with me?"

It was Rodney's turn to sit back in his chair. John couldn't have said what Rodney thought he'd said. Because, well…because he couldn't have. "Did you just say--"

"Yeah." John said, cutting him off, for which Rodney was actually grateful. John was still staring at the board.

"Oh." Rodney stared at the board too. John had just asked him to have sex with him. Rodney hadn't had sex with anyone in a really long time. He'd never had sex with a guy, but this was John, and if he was going to have sex with another man then it might as well be John. Because who else would it be? "Okay."

John looked up at him, his expression hopeful. "Really?"

Rodney nodded.

John smiled. "Okay."

"Just nothing fancy." Rodney wasn't sure what John's definition of sex included, but there were certain things he wasn't quite prepared to do.

"Nothing fancy," John promised. "You can say 'no' whenever you want."

"Okay." It occurred to Rodney that he'd never heard the word okay uttered with such frequency in a single conversation.

John stood, and Rodney did too. When John walked toward him, Rodney kept still. He stayed still when John placed a hand on the side of his neck and leaned in to brush his lips lightly across Rodney's. It was only barest of touches, but then John kissed him again, a little firmer this time, still kind of shy. If anyone had ever told him that John Sheppard would be a shy kisser, Rodney wouldn't have believed them. John had always seemed so damn cocky, Atlantis's own Han Solo.

But John was kissing him shyly, and Rodney liked that, liked that John was unsure. To show how much he liked it, he kissed John back, tugging gently on John's lower lip. John tugged a bit, too. The last time Rodney had been kissed this sweetly, he'd gotten mono. It had been worth it.

When John parted his lips, inviting Rodney to taste him, Rodney said yes. Metaphorically. What he actually did was ease his tongue past John's lips into his mouth, where it brushed against John's own.

John tasted really good.

Then John was tasting him. Rodney slid an arm around John's waist, bringing them closer together, and discovered that John was hard. A small rush of pleasure went through him. John was turned on by kissing him. That was good. That was very good, because Rodney was turned on by kissing John.

When they finally pulled apart, John was smiling, a really big, utterly amazing smile. Rodney hadn't known John could smile like that. He tried to think of something clever to say, because the moment seemed to call for it, but all he could do was look at that smile.

John took hold of the zipper on Rodney's shirt and lowered it, licking playfully at the hollow of Rodney's throat with the tip of his tongue. Rodney laughed and John grinned at him. Then he took hold of the waist of Rodney's shirt and pulled it up. Rodney lifted his arms and the shirt ended up on the floor beside him.

For all his bluster, Rodney was usually more than a little uncomfortable about being naked with someone else, especially the first time. He should have been even more uncomfortable with John, who was damned attractive. He wasn't, because John was looking at him like Rodney's naked chest was something worth looking at. It made him feel wanted, and that was a feeling Rodney found he enjoyed.

He also enjoyed it when John touched him, his hand sliding up Rodney's side. He enjoyed it when John's fingers brushed his nipple, and when they carded through the hair on his chest. He enjoyed it when John kissed the side of his neck, sucking gently.

He enjoyed it so much that he had to do the same thing to John, had to lower his zipper, and pull his shirt over his head. Had to run his hands over John's skin and kiss his neck and bend down to take a nipple into his mouth.

John groaned, cupping the back of Rodney's head with his hand when Rodney sucked it softly.

Rodney sucked a little harder, flicking John's nipple gently with his tongue at the same time. It felt good in his mouth, smaller than a woman's but still good.

John's hand urged him upright and when Rodney lifted his head, John kissed him. There wasn't any shyness in this kiss. This kiss was wanton. It offered things Rodney hadn't even known were possible. He wanted those things. He wanted them a lot. When John backed him toward the bed, Rodney went. Their knees bumped as they tried to keep kissing.

His legs touched the side of the bed and Rodney sat. Leaning down, he untied his shoes, catching sight of John removing his own shoes in his peripheral vision. Shoes off, he looked up at John, who was standing in front of him with bare feet and a bare chest, and an erection pressing against his pants. It was a view of John that Rodney had never imagined.

"Socks," John said.


John looked down at Rodney's feet. "You forgot your socks."

"Oh, right." Rodney bent down to remove his socks. He was about to have sex with John, his friend and colleague, his male friend and colleague. Rodney had no idea why removing his socks of all things had suddenly made the idea real.


He looked up to find John looking down at him.

"You okay?"

There was concern in John's voice, and that was all Rodney needed. "I'm fine." Leaning down, he pulled his socks off.

"What…" John started and then stopped, sitting next to Rodney on the bed. "What would you like to do?"

"I don't know. You're the expert."

"Not so much," John confessed.

Rodney frowned. "You've never…"

"I have, a couple of times." John looked away from Rodney and down at the floor. "It was fast and anonymous and not very good." He looked back at Rodney. "You're the first guy I've ever kissed. I was always scared to before."

"You were scared this time," Rodney said before he could stop himself.

"I was," John admitted, looking away again.

"It was good, the kissing. Maybe we should do more of that," Rodney suggested, because he didn't like the idea of John being uncertain about anything. It upset Rodney's understanding of the universe. John was always certain, even when he was wrong.

John smiled at him, and Rodney realized that he, Rodney McKay, was very, very screwed, because people had committed murder for lesser smiles. "That sounds like a plan," John said.

So Rodney kissed him.

After a few kisses, they fell back on to the bed together, still kissing. It was hard to get comfortable with their feet still on the ground, so they shifted into the center of the bed.

Then they kissed some more.

Rodney found himself on his back, with John on top of him. His arms were around John's shoulders, and John's bare chest was against his. John's skin felt really good.

John's erection felt good too, pressing into him, palpable evidence that John was enjoying this as much as Rodney was.

Breaking their kiss, John lifted himself up one hand. Then he reached between them to cup Rodney's cock through his pants. Rodney groaned. John rubbed him and Rodney lifted his hips, trying to press himself further into John's hand.

"Take your pants off," John said, his voice rough, "please."

Rodney couldn't get his pants open fast enough. John perched on his hip beside Rodney, and Rodney was very aware of him watching as Rodney wiggled out of his pants and boxers.

Naked, he lay back on the bed and looked up at the ceiling, not quite willing to look at John, in case John didn't like what he was looking at.

A hand squeezed his thigh just above the knee and began sliding upward.

Rodney looked. John was looking at his hand, watching as he touched Rodney. John's hand cupped his balls and Rodney groaned, parting his legs. John rubbed slightly at his scrotum and then ran a single finger up the back of Rodney's cock. All on its own, his cock rose to meet the touch.

John looked from Rodney's cock to his face. There was wonder in his expression, and Rodney couldn't believe that it was for him, that he'd caused that look. "Can I blow you?" John asked, in a tone that was part hesitation and part desire.

"Yes." Cupping John's face in his hand, Rodney pulled him into a kiss. "God, yes."

Flashing him a grin, John settled between his legs, and Rodney sucked in a breath, anticipation filling him.

John circled Rodney's cock with his hand, stroking him a couple of times. Rodney was tempted to tell John that he didn't need to suck him, because just being touched by a hand other than his own felt incredibly good.

Then John leaned down and Rodney was pretty sure that he stopped breathing in the moment before John's mouth touched him. Then he moaned, because the head of his cock was in John's mouth and John was sucking him. John's mouth was warm and wet and the suction, the suction was pulling pleasure straight through him to the end of his cock, which John was caressing with his tongue.

Rodney moaned again.

John slid down his length, the head of Rodney's cock moving along the roof of his mouth to the back of his throat. John sucked some more, sucked hard this time, and Rodney reached for him, petting John's head and shoulders, anything he could reach. John found a rhythm and Rodney closed his eyes.

All he could feel was John's mouth and the pleasure building inside him, the pleasure John was giving him. He came too soon, lifting his hips, trembling with the sheer joy of it. It was only when John let him go, that Rodney realized he'd swallowed. He reached for John, pulling him into a kiss, because he had to taste himself on John's lips.

"You're overdressed," Rodney said quietly, letting John go.

"Right," John said, his smile a little shaky.

John slipped from the bed and stood. Rodney watched him open his pants and push them down. There was a lot of John to see, but Rodney found his eyes riveted by John's cock. It was long, darker than the rest of John's skin, and Rodney found himself wanting to touch it. John knelt on the edge of the bed, and Rodney looked up at him. "I want to touch you," he confessed.

"I want you to. I really want you to," John answered.

Rodney moved back, making room for John in the small bed. "So lay down."

When John lay down, Rodney kissed him again. John placed a hand on the back of Rodney's head, holding him in place and kissing him repeatedly, deep and hungry. Rodney kissed him back, stroking John's chest with his hand, teasing a nipple with his thumb.

Easing out of their kissing with a series of small kisses, Rodney bent to take John's nipple into his mouth. It felt as good as it had earlier, and Rodney flicked the top with his tongue before sucking it gently.

John groaned, a surprisingly soft sound that made Rodney want to give him more pleasure, to make him feel as good as it was possible to feel. Sliding his hand down, he closed it around John's cock. It felt a lot like his own. Rodney had always assumed that masturbation felt good because of what he was doing to his dick, not because of the way his dick felt in his hand, but the nerves in his hand were definitely telling his brain that touching John felt good. Maybe not as good as being touched, but still good.

He touched John carefully, watching his face, trying to figure out what John liked. John seemed to like everything Rodney did. However Rodney touched him, fast or slow, lightly or firmly, John watched him with wide eyes, his breath fast and shallow.

Rodney looked down at John's cock. It was surprisingly appealing, the head disappearing and reappearing as he stroked, smooth and oddly vulnerable. Drawn toward it, he brushed his lips over the head.

John gasped.

So Rodney kissed it, his tongue sneaking out to taste the slit.


Rodney licked the head, swirling his tongue around it. His hand was still stroking so Rodney shouldn’t have been surprised when John gasped, "Rodney, I'm--" and came all over his lips and hand.

Pulling back a little, Rodney kept stroking, watching as spurt after spurt of fluid left John's cock. He licked the fluid from his lips, tasting salt and pleasure.

Achy and aroused, Rodney lay back down. John immediately kissed him, which did nothing to ease his arousal. "That was damned good," John said with a smile.

"Yes, yes it was."

John touched his cheek, his fingertips sliding along the side of Rodney's face. They dropped away and Rodney raised his own hand, bringing it to his mouth. He took a wet finger between his lips and sucked it clean.

He was letting go of the second finger when he realized that John was staring at him like he was doing something unbearably erotic. Rodney flushed. John took hold of Rodney's hand and guided it to his mouth, closing his lips around Rodney's finger. He sucked, rubbing the pad of Rodney's finger with his tongue, and then used his hand to pull the finger from his mouth. Rodney stared, because John's actions were unbearably erotic.

When John took in another finger, Rodney groaned.

He pulled his finger back while John sucked on it, then he pushed it forward again. Rodney did that a few times, watching John's mouth, but only a few times, because he had to lean forward, had to kiss John again.

John rolled them so Rodney was on his back. They kept kissing, hips moving together, cocks rubbing against skin.

"I feel like a damn teenager," John muttered, lifting his mouth from Rodney's.

Smiling, Rodney stroked his back. "Some parts of being a teenager weren't so bad."

"If I get pimples, I'm blaming it on you."

Rodney lifted his hips, simultaneously cupping John's ass and pushing it downward. "I'll buy you some Clearasil."

Evidently that was a satisfactory answer, because John kissed him again. Then he began to move with Rodney.

Rodney came first, breaking away from John's kiss, moaning John's name. A couple of minutes later John went still against him, his fluid warm on Rodney's skin.

"I'm glad you asked me to have sex with you," Rodney confided.

John laughed. "Me, too." He kissed Rodney's temple before shifting to his side, his head on Rodney's pillow. Then, in typical guy fashion, he fell asleep, leaving Rodney to ponder what they had done.


Rodney studied John's face. He didn't look nearly so attractive asleep. His mouth was open, and his face was mashed into the pillow. Then there was the snoring.

He'd had sex with John Sheppard. Rodney wondered how long he should let John sleep before waking him up to do it again.