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sga_flashficTitle: Dress You Up
Author: Alizarin (alizarin_nyc)
Challenge: “Skirt”
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: none
Summary: Rodney has nice legs. John can’t help himself.
“It looks like a skirt.”
“It does not.”
“Oh yes, it definitely does.” And here he let out a preliminary laugh.
“Don’t you dare laugh,” Rodney began, “Or I will create a new disease just for you, one that makes your hair fall out, your dick fall off and your Ancient gene inactive. Then where will you be?”
“Sobering thought, McKay, but if you could just see yourself…” John let more laughter escape his lips. This was terrible, Rodney was obviously not taking it well and John just couldn’t help himself.
They had landed an hour ago and Teyla informed them that the people they were about to meet had specific dress code requirements. Namely, a toga-like wrap that everyone had to wear, along with some sort of ridiculous hat. Rodney and Ford were not pleased. John was trying to finagle his way out of it by offering to stay behind and guard the jumper. The invisible jumper.
“Now the hat,” John said, his grin a mile wide.
Rodney threw up his hands in exasperation, and the soft cotton elbow-length gloves he was wearing waved like white branches in a strong wind. “Elizabeth, will you please tell John that he isn’t staying behind, that we need him, as we always do, on missions of this importance?”
Elizabeth smiled and cocked her head at John. “Major, would you please put on your dress now? It’s just your color.”
“Since when has puce been my color?”
“Ah, he even knows his color names,” Rodney said. “I’m so impressed by your machismo.”
“Yes, I do know them, and I know that you’re wearing mauve,” John resumed his attempt at keeping a straight face and failed.
“It’s not mauve, you idiot, it’s burgundy, and I’ll have you know, it sets off my eyes quite well.” Rodney adjusted the skirt to allow more material to cover his hairy chest, but didn’t quite manage it. “Elizabeth, please.”
“Okay, Major. Get dressed. That’s an order.”
With a sigh, John bent and picked up the garment where he’d dropped it unceremoniously on the ground in front of him. Now that he looked at it, it wasn’t really puce at all, more like a buttery, shimmery yellow-green. “Nice,” he’d said. But there was no way in hell he was going to have it look like Rodney’s once he put it on. He’d been to toga parties, he knew there was a better way.
Ford looked ridiculous in a royal blue get-up that was tied in such a way as to only cover the tops of his thighs, and then it trailed off behind him like a wedding train. His hat was round and covered with bright yellow feathers with strings of blue and yellow beads dangling off in the back. He was actually handling it well.
Rodney was not handling his outfit very well at all. He glared at Teyla and Elizabeth, who looked striking in their swathes of deep pink and vermillion. Teyla had a pink feathered cap that clung closely to her head and shiny black feathers angled down across her jaw like wings. Elizabeth had done an intricate knot at the back of her neck, allowing the red material to cover her breasts but not her back, then wrapped the material tightly around her legs and used another knot to secure it at her hip. Her hat was high but elegant, and she had to hold her head erect to keep it from toppling over. She was doing a great job.
Rodney was not doing a great job at keeping anything together. His material hung off him like a sack, bulging in front and tied awkwardly at his ass. The dark wine-colored material dipped and rose around his legs, revealing the white skin beneath. His hat had a life of its own. It spun on his head every time he turned his head.
And John could not stop laughing. His own garment was now tied up toga style, revealing half of his chest and he made the most of it, puffing out with pride and doing pretend bicep curls. His hat, as it happened, was green and sat like a laurel wreath on his dark hair. He’d be Greek god-like if it wasn’t for the fact that he was bent over with laughter, his face crinkled up with mirth.
“John. I am going to count to three. When I am done, you will stop this childish behavior and we can get on with meeting our hosts and conducting negotiations.” Rodney’s mouth was down turned in a serious frown, gravity tugging on each side of his face to create a perfect, upside-down “u.”
“Elizabeth!” he yelled.
But Teyla and Elizabeth had already begun walking toward the village, and they were quite a few paces ahead by now, their arms linked, and their hips swaying.
“What is this, chick solidarity?” Rodney asked.
Ford moved off to follow them, trying to maintain a manly walk. It was impossible however, and he too, began to sway his hips and step gracefully with bare feet on the grass. “Let’s go, fellas,” he called merrily over his shoulder.
Rodney clumsily started forward, not wanting to be left behind with his nemesis. John stayed right behind him, however, making jokes and talking in soft, ladylike tones with occasional bursts of laughter. Rodney pretended not to listen to him.
They arrived in the village to be greeted by a host of women, dressed in brilliant colors, all with hats, gloves, and bare feet. Three regal older women led them into a stone building and motioned for them to sit at a long wooden table. Beverages were served, and Teyla explained to Elizabeth and the team that they had been invited for dinner and dancing and that it would be rude to refuse.
“I’ll tell you what’s rude,” Rodney began, but Elizabeth shushed him.
“Tell them we accept and we are honored.”
John sat next to Rodney on purpose and as the negotiations commenced, kept stealing glances at him and shaking with silent laughter.
“Cut it out,” Rodney whispered. “You’re ruining the negotiations, and my appetite, and you’re making a fool of yourself.”
“I’m the fool,” John whispered back. “Look who’s got feathers on their head.”
“You’re just jealous because you didn’t get any feathers,” Rodney hissed. “Or beads for that matter.”
“Yeah, I’m totally jealous of how gorgeous you look,” John said, but his voice didn’t quite deliver the needed edge and Rodney looked at him. John backpedaled, trying for more levity. “Seriously, you’re the belle of the ball,” he said. Rodney just kept looking at him, eyebrows raised. Rodney scooted further away and resumed eating the meal that had been set before them. He was going to make John’s jokes fall flat and then maybe the Major would just leave him the hell alone.
But the Major didn’t leave him alone. He scooted over too, and made a big show of not being able to eat properly because he was laughing too hard. Ford was smiling widely at the two of them, encouraging Sheppard every step of the way. Rodney was fairly simmering under his feathers.
“Plus,” John continued out of nowhere, “Those gloves really set off your hands. They’re so manly yet so dainty. Wherever did you get them?”
“Shut. Up.”
“I mean, I’m so jealous that I didn’t get gloves, either.” John shifted even closer to Rodney. His eyes glittered with amusement in the candlelight. “All I got were these metal bracelets.” He lifted his arm to show off the gold bicep cuff and gold wristbands, which made him look like one of the Egyptian-styled Goa’uld Rodney remembered from briefings with SG-1. “I mean, how am I ever going to compete with you for the attentions of the opposite sex?”
“I’ll tell you how,” Rodney hissed. “Shut your yap. The opposite sex prefers their partners to be quiet and docile.”
“Is that what you like, Rodney?” John’s voice was still low, keeping their conversation from their guests, but Elizabeth’s head swiveled in their direction.
“Yes, Major. That’s exactly what I like. I’d be so much more attracted to you if you would please shut the hell up.”
“Oh. You like to be the one to do the talking.”
“Yes Major, I like to do the talking.” Rodney turned and faced John, chewing rapidly on a piece of meat, his eyes darting from side to side with agitation. “Are you flirting with me? Because suddenly I’m wearing a dress? I’ve got one word for you, Major: fetish.”
John opened his mouth to protest, but Elizabeth interrupted them.
“Gentlemen,” Elizabeth’s voice rang out and their hosts fell silent. “Is there something you’d like to share with the rest of us? Your murmuring is quite distracting to the business at hand.”
"You can dress him up, but you still can't take him out," John said. Elizabeth just stared and so John fell silent, and then looked up at her, all trace of mirth gone. “Sorry.”
They resumed eating and Rodney relaxed, finally free of John’s relentless tormenting. It was like being back in school and having every bully watching like a hawk to catch him out in some clumsy gesture that they could then mock for the pleasure of the rest of the class. He was drinking more wine than was absolutely necessary, though, and he had to admit that John rattled him more than he’d care to admit. It was just sheer McKay luck that he had drawn the short straw in this situation; getting stuck with the most unflattering garment and feeling totally out of his element. He wasn’t even able to shrug it off with a laugh and a cocky walk like Ford and John. They had the luxury of knowing that they were good-looking whether or not they were dressed up to look ridiculous. He sighed.
“Corset too tight, milady?” John smirked from his right. John had also been drinking a lot of wine and Rodney wondered briefly if this was going to mean things were going to get worse.
“Yes, John, yes,” Rodney waved a hand, disgusted with himself for not even wanting to play the game.
John again moved closer to Rodney and this time let his leg swing wide and it touched Rodney’s leg. He left it there. “Well it was quite a meal, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, yes it was very good.” Rodney kept his lips pressed tightly together and moved his leg away from John’s. John let his hand brush across Rodney’s bare thigh where the material had hiked up. Rodney jerked at the touch and cleared his throat. “Don’t you think things are going well?”
“Elizabeth seems very happy,” John replied. “But you don’t.”
“Well, I’m quite tired of being picked on, you know.”
John sat up straight, abandoning his ploy of touching Rodney. “I’m sorry,” he fumbled, “I didn’t mean…”
“I’m used to it Major, no need to apologize.”
“Rodney, no. Listen, I just, I was just having fun,” John’s voice had become earnest.
“Yes, it was fun. Thanks so much.” Rodney ran a hand through his hair and then unconsciously smoothed down the material bunched at his wa ist, pulling it over his thighs.
“Rodney, I’m sorry. Here, don’t do that, you’re only making it worse.” John grabbed Rodney’s hand and pulled it away from the garment. “You’re right, I was being insensitive.” He began to straighten Rodney’s knot with one hand, tugging gently on it to put it back in place. Rodney blushed.
“It’s okay, Major. Let’s just not discuss it okay? And can you give me my hand back?” John had taken Rodney’s hand and clasped it below the table. He stared at Rodney hard and then shook his head as if to clear it and released his hand.
“At least let me fix it for you, so you’re not so uncomfortable,” John offered.
“Fuck you,” Rodney said and got up from the table. He made for the side door and disappeared before John could say anything.
Elizabeth and Teyla rose from the table with their hosts, indicating the meal was finished. “Major Sheppard, if you think you can tear yourself away from Dr. McKay for a few moments…” Teyla said, and moved to John’s side as he got up to go after Rodney.
“Yes, yes, of course,” John said.
“Is everything all right?” She asked, looking at him closely. “You have been acting a bit strange tonight.”
“Yeah, yeah, things are fine. Just maybe too much wine.”
“Well, ease up on it,” Elizabeth said, leaning over to give him a warning glance. “We’re headed to the dancing hall now for a celebration of our mutual good will. We could use your leadership skills.”
“Dancing. Huh. Did you ever find out, by the way, where the men are?”
“There are no men in this village, Major. This is a society where only females are born through genetic restructuring. Where’s Dr. McKay? He’d find the scientific aspects of it quite fascinating.” Elizabeth looked around as if Rodney was hiding under the table.
“I’ll go get him,” John said quickly and darted out.
He found Rodney standing in a courtyard in back of the building, at the end of a long corridor lit with torches. He was staring across a long, narrow pool surrounded by dark green trees, perfectly manicured and evenly spaced, with a high wall around them. The pool was shallow and a deep blue-green, lit up by hidden lights below. Torchlight spilled out of the doorway onto Rodney’s face.
“Rodney,” John began. He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. He could see Rodney was angry and upset. He’d removed his gloves and hat and hung them on a nearby bush. “Haven’t you ever heard the phrase, ‘teasing is a sign of affection?’”
“Yes,” Rodney answered. “But I was eight and my mother was explaining to me why I so enjoyed pulling the neighbor girl’s pigtails.”
“Well?” John paused, blinking at him.
Rodney had a dumbfounded look on his face. “You’re… you’re… pulling my pigtails?”
“Rodney, I know this is strange, but I just – oh hell.” And John stepped forward, grabbed Rodney’s shoulders and kissed him firmly. When he pulled back Rodney was grinning.
“I knew it,” he said.
“Glad one of us did,” John said. He ran his hands over the silky material Rodney was wearing, sliding his hand up Rodney’s back. He leaned in and kissed him again; Rodney responded by running his thumb over John’s cheek and letting his other hand curl around the back of John’s neck.
John never expected Rodney to feel this good and he felt his self-control slipping away. Rodney didn’t seem to mind as he was kissing John back enthusiastically. John slid his hand up Rodney’s thigh, and heard Rodney moan. Then he pushed him up against the wall behind them so they were hidden by the row of trees, and put both hands up his dress. Briefs he discovered. He tugged them down quickly and felt Rodney shudder.
“John,” Rodney whispered. “This isn’t right. It’s too fast.”
But John didn’t seem to hear; rather he was hiking up his toga and pressing against Rodney.
“God, you’re not wearing…” Rodney began, but John covered his mouth again with a kiss. His fingers were working the knot of Rodney’s garment and it came loose and fell to the ground like a shedding snake skin.
Rodney now felt the heat between them, John’s cock rubbing against his and he moaned again around John’s tongue. John thrust against him gently and Rodney felt himself respond. Now there was nothing hurried in John’s movements. They slowed to a rhythm and Rodney pulled John forward and back with his hands. John’s yellow fabric rustled between them, then slid over their chests and fell over their cocks. With a grunt John pushed the material away, then pulled it over his head and tossed it aside.
While their lips were apart Rodney just looked at John in amazement. This was so completely unexpected, he almost didn’t know how to feel. But obviously it wasn’t a huge problem, because wasn’t he standing here, letting John Sheppard kiss him, wasn’t he naked and hard and panting with arousal?
John looked back at him, his eyes dark. “I hope you’re okay with this,” he said, “Because I’ve wanted to do this for a very long time.” He didn’t wait for a response; just a slight nod from Rodney was all it took for him to resume. And that was probably a good thing because for once, Rodney had no words.
John sped up the pace, rubbing firmly against Rodney and Rodney dug his fingers into John’s ass. They rocked together, mouths locked. When he came John gasped into Rodney’s mouth. Rodney just closed his eyes and thought how he’d never felt more like a man.
***
Lt. Ford welcomed them back to the party with enthusiasm. “Where’ve you two been? I’m bored. These women don’t even know I’m alive. Let’s go have some male bonding time! Hey, Rodney, nice to see you finally let John fix your dress, man. You look a whole hell of a lot better.”
Author: Alizarin (alizarin_nyc)
Challenge: “Skirt”
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: none
Summary: Rodney has nice legs. John can’t help himself.
“It looks like a skirt.”
“It does not.”
“Oh yes, it definitely does.” And here he let out a preliminary laugh.
“Don’t you dare laugh,” Rodney began, “Or I will create a new disease just for you, one that makes your hair fall out, your dick fall off and your Ancient gene inactive. Then where will you be?”
“Sobering thought, McKay, but if you could just see yourself…” John let more laughter escape his lips. This was terrible, Rodney was obviously not taking it well and John just couldn’t help himself.
They had landed an hour ago and Teyla informed them that the people they were about to meet had specific dress code requirements. Namely, a toga-like wrap that everyone had to wear, along with some sort of ridiculous hat. Rodney and Ford were not pleased. John was trying to finagle his way out of it by offering to stay behind and guard the jumper. The invisible jumper.
“Now the hat,” John said, his grin a mile wide.
Rodney threw up his hands in exasperation, and the soft cotton elbow-length gloves he was wearing waved like white branches in a strong wind. “Elizabeth, will you please tell John that he isn’t staying behind, that we need him, as we always do, on missions of this importance?”
Elizabeth smiled and cocked her head at John. “Major, would you please put on your dress now? It’s just your color.”
“Since when has puce been my color?”
“Ah, he even knows his color names,” Rodney said. “I’m so impressed by your machismo.”
“Yes, I do know them, and I know that you’re wearing mauve,” John resumed his attempt at keeping a straight face and failed.
“It’s not mauve, you idiot, it’s burgundy, and I’ll have you know, it sets off my eyes quite well.” Rodney adjusted the skirt to allow more material to cover his hairy chest, but didn’t quite manage it. “Elizabeth, please.”
“Okay, Major. Get dressed. That’s an order.”
With a sigh, John bent and picked up the garment where he’d dropped it unceremoniously on the ground in front of him. Now that he looked at it, it wasn’t really puce at all, more like a buttery, shimmery yellow-green. “Nice,” he’d said. But there was no way in hell he was going to have it look like Rodney’s once he put it on. He’d been to toga parties, he knew there was a better way.
Ford looked ridiculous in a royal blue get-up that was tied in such a way as to only cover the tops of his thighs, and then it trailed off behind him like a wedding train. His hat was round and covered with bright yellow feathers with strings of blue and yellow beads dangling off in the back. He was actually handling it well.
Rodney was not handling his outfit very well at all. He glared at Teyla and Elizabeth, who looked striking in their swathes of deep pink and vermillion. Teyla had a pink feathered cap that clung closely to her head and shiny black feathers angled down across her jaw like wings. Elizabeth had done an intricate knot at the back of her neck, allowing the red material to cover her breasts but not her back, then wrapped the material tightly around her legs and used another knot to secure it at her hip. Her hat was high but elegant, and she had to hold her head erect to keep it from toppling over. She was doing a great job.
Rodney was not doing a great job at keeping anything together. His material hung off him like a sack, bulging in front and tied awkwardly at his ass. The dark wine-colored material dipped and rose around his legs, revealing the white skin beneath. His hat had a life of its own. It spun on his head every time he turned his head.
And John could not stop laughing. His own garment was now tied up toga style, revealing half of his chest and he made the most of it, puffing out with pride and doing pretend bicep curls. His hat, as it happened, was green and sat like a laurel wreath on his dark hair. He’d be Greek god-like if it wasn’t for the fact that he was bent over with laughter, his face crinkled up with mirth.
“John. I am going to count to three. When I am done, you will stop this childish behavior and we can get on with meeting our hosts and conducting negotiations.” Rodney’s mouth was down turned in a serious frown, gravity tugging on each side of his face to create a perfect, upside-down “u.”
“Elizabeth!” he yelled.
But Teyla and Elizabeth had already begun walking toward the village, and they were quite a few paces ahead by now, their arms linked, and their hips swaying.
“What is this, chick solidarity?” Rodney asked.
Ford moved off to follow them, trying to maintain a manly walk. It was impossible however, and he too, began to sway his hips and step gracefully with bare feet on the grass. “Let’s go, fellas,” he called merrily over his shoulder.
Rodney clumsily started forward, not wanting to be left behind with his nemesis. John stayed right behind him, however, making jokes and talking in soft, ladylike tones with occasional bursts of laughter. Rodney pretended not to listen to him.
They arrived in the village to be greeted by a host of women, dressed in brilliant colors, all with hats, gloves, and bare feet. Three regal older women led them into a stone building and motioned for them to sit at a long wooden table. Beverages were served, and Teyla explained to Elizabeth and the team that they had been invited for dinner and dancing and that it would be rude to refuse.
“I’ll tell you what’s rude,” Rodney began, but Elizabeth shushed him.
“Tell them we accept and we are honored.”
John sat next to Rodney on purpose and as the negotiations commenced, kept stealing glances at him and shaking with silent laughter.
“Cut it out,” Rodney whispered. “You’re ruining the negotiations, and my appetite, and you’re making a fool of yourself.”
“I’m the fool,” John whispered back. “Look who’s got feathers on their head.”
“You’re just jealous because you didn’t get any feathers,” Rodney hissed. “Or beads for that matter.”
“Yeah, I’m totally jealous of how gorgeous you look,” John said, but his voice didn’t quite deliver the needed edge and Rodney looked at him. John backpedaled, trying for more levity. “Seriously, you’re the belle of the ball,” he said. Rodney just kept looking at him, eyebrows raised. Rodney scooted further away and resumed eating the meal that had been set before them. He was going to make John’s jokes fall flat and then maybe the Major would just leave him the hell alone.
But the Major didn’t leave him alone. He scooted over too, and made a big show of not being able to eat properly because he was laughing too hard. Ford was smiling widely at the two of them, encouraging Sheppard every step of the way. Rodney was fairly simmering under his feathers.
“Plus,” John continued out of nowhere, “Those gloves really set off your hands. They’re so manly yet so dainty. Wherever did you get them?”
“Shut. Up.”
“I mean, I’m so jealous that I didn’t get gloves, either.” John shifted even closer to Rodney. His eyes glittered with amusement in the candlelight. “All I got were these metal bracelets.” He lifted his arm to show off the gold bicep cuff and gold wristbands, which made him look like one of the Egyptian-styled Goa’uld Rodney remembered from briefings with SG-1. “I mean, how am I ever going to compete with you for the attentions of the opposite sex?”
“I’ll tell you how,” Rodney hissed. “Shut your yap. The opposite sex prefers their partners to be quiet and docile.”
“Is that what you like, Rodney?” John’s voice was still low, keeping their conversation from their guests, but Elizabeth’s head swiveled in their direction.
“Yes, Major. That’s exactly what I like. I’d be so much more attracted to you if you would please shut the hell up.”
“Oh. You like to be the one to do the talking.”
“Yes Major, I like to do the talking.” Rodney turned and faced John, chewing rapidly on a piece of meat, his eyes darting from side to side with agitation. “Are you flirting with me? Because suddenly I’m wearing a dress? I’ve got one word for you, Major: fetish.”
John opened his mouth to protest, but Elizabeth interrupted them.
“Gentlemen,” Elizabeth’s voice rang out and their hosts fell silent. “Is there something you’d like to share with the rest of us? Your murmuring is quite distracting to the business at hand.”
"You can dress him up, but you still can't take him out," John said. Elizabeth just stared and so John fell silent, and then looked up at her, all trace of mirth gone. “Sorry.”
They resumed eating and Rodney relaxed, finally free of John’s relentless tormenting. It was like being back in school and having every bully watching like a hawk to catch him out in some clumsy gesture that they could then mock for the pleasure of the rest of the class. He was drinking more wine than was absolutely necessary, though, and he had to admit that John rattled him more than he’d care to admit. It was just sheer McKay luck that he had drawn the short straw in this situation; getting stuck with the most unflattering garment and feeling totally out of his element. He wasn’t even able to shrug it off with a laugh and a cocky walk like Ford and John. They had the luxury of knowing that they were good-looking whether or not they were dressed up to look ridiculous. He sighed.
“Corset too tight, milady?” John smirked from his right. John had also been drinking a lot of wine and Rodney wondered briefly if this was going to mean things were going to get worse.
“Yes, John, yes,” Rodney waved a hand, disgusted with himself for not even wanting to play the game.
John again moved closer to Rodney and this time let his leg swing wide and it touched Rodney’s leg. He left it there. “Well it was quite a meal, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, yes it was very good.” Rodney kept his lips pressed tightly together and moved his leg away from John’s. John let his hand brush across Rodney’s bare thigh where the material had hiked up. Rodney jerked at the touch and cleared his throat. “Don’t you think things are going well?”
“Elizabeth seems very happy,” John replied. “But you don’t.”
“Well, I’m quite tired of being picked on, you know.”
John sat up straight, abandoning his ploy of touching Rodney. “I’m sorry,” he fumbled, “I didn’t mean…”
“I’m used to it Major, no need to apologize.”
“Rodney, no. Listen, I just, I was just having fun,” John’s voice had become earnest.
“Yes, it was fun. Thanks so much.” Rodney ran a hand through his hair and then unconsciously smoothed down the material bunched at his wa ist, pulling it over his thighs.
“Rodney, I’m sorry. Here, don’t do that, you’re only making it worse.” John grabbed Rodney’s hand and pulled it away from the garment. “You’re right, I was being insensitive.” He began to straighten Rodney’s knot with one hand, tugging gently on it to put it back in place. Rodney blushed.
“It’s okay, Major. Let’s just not discuss it okay? And can you give me my hand back?” John had taken Rodney’s hand and clasped it below the table. He stared at Rodney hard and then shook his head as if to clear it and released his hand.
“At least let me fix it for you, so you’re not so uncomfortable,” John offered.
“Fuck you,” Rodney said and got up from the table. He made for the side door and disappeared before John could say anything.
Elizabeth and Teyla rose from the table with their hosts, indicating the meal was finished. “Major Sheppard, if you think you can tear yourself away from Dr. McKay for a few moments…” Teyla said, and moved to John’s side as he got up to go after Rodney.
“Yes, yes, of course,” John said.
“Is everything all right?” She asked, looking at him closely. “You have been acting a bit strange tonight.”
“Yeah, yeah, things are fine. Just maybe too much wine.”
“Well, ease up on it,” Elizabeth said, leaning over to give him a warning glance. “We’re headed to the dancing hall now for a celebration of our mutual good will. We could use your leadership skills.”
“Dancing. Huh. Did you ever find out, by the way, where the men are?”
“There are no men in this village, Major. This is a society where only females are born through genetic restructuring. Where’s Dr. McKay? He’d find the scientific aspects of it quite fascinating.” Elizabeth looked around as if Rodney was hiding under the table.
“I’ll go get him,” John said quickly and darted out.
He found Rodney standing in a courtyard in back of the building, at the end of a long corridor lit with torches. He was staring across a long, narrow pool surrounded by dark green trees, perfectly manicured and evenly spaced, with a high wall around them. The pool was shallow and a deep blue-green, lit up by hidden lights below. Torchlight spilled out of the doorway onto Rodney’s face.
“Rodney,” John began. He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. He could see Rodney was angry and upset. He’d removed his gloves and hat and hung them on a nearby bush. “Haven’t you ever heard the phrase, ‘teasing is a sign of affection?’”
“Yes,” Rodney answered. “But I was eight and my mother was explaining to me why I so enjoyed pulling the neighbor girl’s pigtails.”
“Well?” John paused, blinking at him.
Rodney had a dumbfounded look on his face. “You’re… you’re… pulling my pigtails?”
“Rodney, I know this is strange, but I just – oh hell.” And John stepped forward, grabbed Rodney’s shoulders and kissed him firmly. When he pulled back Rodney was grinning.
“I knew it,” he said.
“Glad one of us did,” John said. He ran his hands over the silky material Rodney was wearing, sliding his hand up Rodney’s back. He leaned in and kissed him again; Rodney responded by running his thumb over John’s cheek and letting his other hand curl around the back of John’s neck.
John never expected Rodney to feel this good and he felt his self-control slipping away. Rodney didn’t seem to mind as he was kissing John back enthusiastically. John slid his hand up Rodney’s thigh, and heard Rodney moan. Then he pushed him up against the wall behind them so they were hidden by the row of trees, and put both hands up his dress. Briefs he discovered. He tugged them down quickly and felt Rodney shudder.
“John,” Rodney whispered. “This isn’t right. It’s too fast.”
But John didn’t seem to hear; rather he was hiking up his toga and pressing against Rodney.
“God, you’re not wearing…” Rodney began, but John covered his mouth again with a kiss. His fingers were working the knot of Rodney’s garment and it came loose and fell to the ground like a shedding snake skin.
Rodney now felt the heat between them, John’s cock rubbing against his and he moaned again around John’s tongue. John thrust against him gently and Rodney felt himself respond. Now there was nothing hurried in John’s movements. They slowed to a rhythm and Rodney pulled John forward and back with his hands. John’s yellow fabric rustled between them, then slid over their chests and fell over their cocks. With a grunt John pushed the material away, then pulled it over his head and tossed it aside.
While their lips were apart Rodney just looked at John in amazement. This was so completely unexpected, he almost didn’t know how to feel. But obviously it wasn’t a huge problem, because wasn’t he standing here, letting John Sheppard kiss him, wasn’t he naked and hard and panting with arousal?
John looked back at him, his eyes dark. “I hope you’re okay with this,” he said, “Because I’ve wanted to do this for a very long time.” He didn’t wait for a response; just a slight nod from Rodney was all it took for him to resume. And that was probably a good thing because for once, Rodney had no words.
John sped up the pace, rubbing firmly against Rodney and Rodney dug his fingers into John’s ass. They rocked together, mouths locked. When he came John gasped into Rodney’s mouth. Rodney just closed his eyes and thought how he’d never felt more like a man.
***
Lt. Ford welcomed them back to the party with enthusiasm. “Where’ve you two been? I’m bored. These women don’t even know I’m alive. Let’s go have some male bonding time! Hey, Rodney, nice to see you finally let John fix your dress, man. You look a whole hell of a lot better.”
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(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-05 05:39 am (UTC)This skirt challenge is making it impossible for me to picture the boys uin anything but dresses.
Oh, yeah, this was also much with the hotness. Good work. ^^
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-18 04:23 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-05 05:42 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-18 04:24 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-05 10:41 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-18 04:24 am (UTC)Don't forget the hat and gloves...
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-05 12:26 pm (UTC)Hah! I laughed out loud at Ford's earnestness on this line. I love the idea of Ford noticing how people fix their respective dresses. Actually, I just like the idea of Ford saying "dress."
Adorable.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-18 04:25 am (UTC)Thanks for commenting!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-05 03:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-18 04:26 am (UTC)Ah, I see Jayne there in your icon. Let's put him in a dress, too!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-18 04:48 pm (UTC)Men in skirts!
Date: 2005-08-09 01:46 am (UTC)I enjoyed it!
Re: Men in skirts!
Date: 2005-08-18 04:27 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-09 03:10 am (UTC)Rodney was fairly simmering under his feathers.
Rodney had a dumbfounded look on his face. “You’re… you’re… pulling my pigtails?”
among others lol, great job!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-18 12:46 am (UTC)So, was this a society / planet of lesbians? :D I love it. <3
(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-18 05:43 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-18 08:12 pm (UTC)And I can totally see Elizabeth and Teyla visiting without the boys. Perhaps form a treaty and go on weakly missions to "ensure the peace." XD
I love how Ford was all eager to see John and Rodney come back. I wonder what the lesbians would have thought if they saw the two of them having sex! XD
(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-18 10:24 pm (UTC)I think the lesbians would definitely approve of the sex. Despite being a female-only society, they are extremely open minded!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-19 02:25 am (UTC)Shifting POV's? Well, I don't necessarily see that as a bad thing unless it changes once every other paragraph. Sometimes it's refreshing to see a different person's point of view (and sometimes it can be annoying, but it wasn't in this story or I'd have noticed it).
Yeah, they probably would approve. Although, I half expected them to be really weary and distrustful of men because they're a society of all women. Although, I also figured if they did act like that, they'd calm down if they saw John and Rodney going at it. xD
Most people never stop learning when it comes to writing. Your writing seems to be so effortless though. Did it just flow and come easy to you? I struggle with everything I write (which is why I barely have any fics- none for SGA, even, because I wouldn't be able to keep them in character).
I feel like I've had a permanent writer's block for the last 4-5 years. DX Maybe it's just the depression. I can't say for sure. I know what I want to say but sometimes I'll sit there for an hour and a half struggling with 500 words (all of which sound awkward and wrong). It's really frustrating.
I really envy people who can not only write a fanfic, come up with a good plot, and finish it. I've only finished one fic before and I doubt it was 1,000 words long. DX Guh. ;__; I don't know how writer's do it. xD
(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-19 05:12 pm (UTC)You ask if my writing comes effortlessly - and well, sometimes it does, mostly it does not. When the characters are in my head, talking, it's easy. I have found that early on in SGA it was much easier, and then as the writers failed to be consistent with their characters and the fandom grew huge and sometimes critical, my writing was a lot more difficult.
Most often, writing is hard for me. And I have completion issues too! I have SO SO SO many unfinished fics. But I go through phases where I just push myself to get things done. The thing about writing is that it gets easier the more you do it, so you have to do it all the time. Even if you never post or publish, you have to do it. Instead of struggling with 500 words, you should move on and let the words make their way to "paper" and then you can go back and see if any of it makes sense (the next day!)
When I was in grad school, we always had to write these ridiculous 20-page papers. My friend and I would sit up all night trying to write them. My motto was "words on the paper, words on the paper," repeated over and over because I just had to get it done and I really couldn't worry about whether it was making any sense or not. Once I had 20 or so pages, I could go back and futz with it to make an argument (often, I failed to do so of course, but at least I had something to hand in!)
Maybe you should try comment fic or drabbles -- short little things that get your confidence up. It also gets you interacting with other writers, which has been the biggest and best thing about LJ and fanfic. Other writers make me better, and inspire me to do more. Porn battles are also good ;)
Depression can really hamper your writing, too, speaking from experience. I didn't start really writing a lot until I came out of depression a few years ago. In fact, fanfic was a way that I could distract myself from my depression sometimes. Look at me distracting myself from a bad work day right now!!
Thank for your comments... I appreciate being appreciated. Heh. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-23 12:50 am (UTC)Some of the things I struggle/d with the most are is coming up with a good plot (which I only this year realized I need to plot out everything that happens or I'll never finish it because I use all of my good ideas up in the beginning), work out the problems, find the motivation to write it (which, mind you, is practically nonexistent), write it and keep my motivation / interest in it long enough to finish it (my ADHD is the cause of that).
Ouch, that sucks. I imagine it probably became hard to keep up with then. -Having people happily accept your writing and then become critical as the fandom grew larger. I doubt I'd have managed it, honestly. ;__; I think you've done extremely well in that aspect. :D
Well, at least I now know I am not the only one struggling to finish things. xD At least you have those phases where you managed to finish things, though. I think things come more easily for you, though. You said you have a ton of unfinished fics. I have 2-3 fics that are a work in progress from the last 5 years. I have a hard time coming up with plots- that's almost as hard as writing them. xD The last idea I came up with for a fic took months for me to develop into something that wasn't nonsense. xD I come up with ideas for things maybe once a year. Usually it just doesn't occur to me and if I try to think of a plot, I just sit there with my mind blank.
What do you mean by, "Instead of struggling with 500 words, you should move on and let the words make their way to "paper"?" I mean, if I didn't struggle with them, I wouldn't have written anything. I'd have just sat there staring at the word document with my mind blank and empty. I'd have no idea what I should write or anything. >.<; God, it's been so long since I've really enjoyed writing things and I'd really love to do it again. Remembering how it used to feel is like a dream.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-23 12:51 am (UTC)Oddly enough, the only things I seem to be able to write with ease are rps (or roleplaying). I don't really know why and it makes no sense to me. For example, the best RP I've written so far (with a good plot, character development, plot development, etc- although, the writing is rough and I didn't proofread most of mine for fear of killing it) is a reverse "little mermaid" rp (The merman needs a mate to marry to claim his kingdom so he goes to the surface and kidnaps a man and takes him back to his kingdom. Now he has a year to convince the man to stay - which seems unlikely - or else the man will be freed and their bond severed on his end. As punishment, the mer will be driven insane from the bond and lose his kingdom to his brother who plans to start a war with the humans).
If you go to my rp site here (http://www.yaoirp.net/forum/viewtopic.php?f=60&t=18), you can see the rp (My UserName there is: Mich). Notice that it's been around for roughly four months and has 1370 posts (or 69 pages worth). xD I have no idea how I managed that- and it's maybe half over plot wise. Although, even with that it's beginning to slow down and I'm already starting to lose the motivation for it. ;__;
God, depression kills your writing. I hate that. I wish I could come out of it so I could write again. Sadly, I haven't managed it yet. I read fanfiction to distract myself from it. If I try to write it, I become really frustrated and upset because I struggle so horrible with it. Then I just end up angry and crying- that just makes things worse. o.O
(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-23 03:01 am (UTC)When I say write those 500 words and then keep going, I literally mean just keep writing. According to the Artist's Way (have you heard of it?) and things like NaNoWriMo, sometimes you literally write nonsense, just to keep the words flowing. I write my to-do list, or how cute my cats are, just to keep it up. They say that eventually you get all the blockage out and then creativity starts to flow.
Most importantly, though, you should get healthy. Writing isn't going away, and once your depression lifts, you can do it again. If trying to do so upsets you, put it aside for a better time. (I have pages and pages of journal entries about how awful I feel - that's all I wrote for a long time).
And rps IS writing! Keep that up.. it sounds like you have a good time doing that. That can be solid writing practice.
Let me think about places to do drabbles and comment fic (I think there is a comm called
(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-23 03:28 am (UTC)Hmm, well, I'd probably have a hard time trying to figure out what to write. Although, I can honestly say I probably get those words in by writing comments to people and replying to emails (I've already written 15,000 words today doing just that- if that counts?). Unfortunately, I have days (like yesterday) where I don't even feel like writing anything. I don't sign onto messenger, I just read, eat and do what needs to be done for the day. I've never really gotten the desire to start writing creatively after writing all of it though. ;__;
Ahh, see, I already tried that method but my depression (which, by the way, was diagnosed and I refuse to take medication for after how bad it turned out the first two times I tried) probably isn't going to go away for a long time. I've had really bad depression since my first year of highschool (almost 5-6 years ago). I already tried putting my writing aside for 3-4 of those years and I'm afraid that if I don't even try and I just keep waiting, I'll stop wanting to write / will lose the talent I had for it / will never pick it up again.
Does that make sense? Writing makes me feel accomplished (especially if it's something long), gives me self-esteem, and generally makes me feel good if I can manage to finish it.
Oh, thank you. <3 I intend to keep the rping up for as long as I can keep my interest in it. By the way, I really appreciate your taking the time to give me this advice / for talking to me. It's actually giving me hope that I'll be able to really write again one day (so, I totally appreciate it).
Thanks for the link to the comment fic community. I'm going to check it out right after I post this comment. <3
(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-25 07:23 pm (UTC)http://linaerys.livejournal.com/661918.html
It's a paragraph porn-a-thon. Only a paragraph of porn. Might make you feel better, whether you read or write or both!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-07 10:05 pm (UTC)Sorry it's taken so long to respond. I've been really insanely and painfully sick for like... a month. What wit ruptured eardrums, cramps, back pain, etc. -.- Probably one of the worst months for me in a quite a while.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-03 10:01 pm (UTC)