Fic: Worth It, by SGAtlantisLight
Dec. 7th, 2006 12:03 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
sgatlantislight.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
sga_flashficTitle: Worth It
Author: SGAtlantisLight
Characters: Rodney, Carson, John, Radek, Miko, Simpson, Kavanagh
Relationships: Beckett/McKay
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Smut, first time, piercing
Spoilers: None
Summary: They'd been friends for some time, but when they start dating, they discover some new and exciting things about each other.
Excerpt: He'd gone into a blind panic halfway through the work day when he realised he really ought to bring something for Carson and had been insufferable to his staff until Radek buttonholed him.
Disclaimer: Undoubtedly I own them, and a whole lot of other things, in some universe, but not this one.
Author's Note: Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mice1900 and lapislaz for quick beta.
Rodney had considered it, of course. He and Carson had been friends since Antarctica and spent a lot of time together as it was. It hadn't taken them too long to sort out that they were both bi. But the military presence on Atlantis and a good friendship that he didn't want to screw up had given him pause. They'd never really discussed it, but Carson seemed just as hesitant.
But as time went on, their dinners together seemed to be getting more intense with an electrical undercurrent. Rodney became more and more aware of Carson's touches, the blue of his eyes, the way Carson's voice just seemed to vibrate through him.
"You know I've talked to my men about tolerance," Sheppard said one evening at dinner.
"Pardon?" Carson said.
The colonel rolled his eyes and looked between Carson and Rodney. "You two. You should, you know..."
"We should?" Rodney asked.
Sheppard shrugged and gestured between them. "You know. Get together."
"Dear God, you're an idiot! As if one talk is going to change anything! I've worked with the American military, colonel. It's not worth it."
Carson flinched as if slapped and then stood. "Excuse me. I've got some samples to check."
"Carson!" Rodney called, but the doctor didn't slow. "What did I say?"
Sheppard merely raised his hands in surrender. "I shouldn't have brought it up. Sorry."
***
Rodney squirmed on the infirmary bed while Carson spread cream along the gently arching swirls that covered his back. "It's not helping! It still itches."
"Give it a wee bit." Rodney had already taken an antihistamine. Carson hoped that would be sufficient.
Sheppard smirked as he pulled on his shirt, covering the curling red-brown stains on his own skin.
"And you! 'Oh, come on, McKay! It'll show them we're friendly. What could it hurt?' Why the hell did I listen to you?"
"How was I supposed to know you'd be allergic to it?"
"The blisters will probably scar and then those 'temporary' patterns will be permanent and I'll be a laughingstock."
"Oh, come now, Rodney," Carson interrupted. "When have you ever had anything scar like that? And you wouldn't be a laughingstock in any case. The patterns are really quite lovely."
"How reassuring. 'You probably won't scar, but if you do at least they'll be pretty!' That would make it all so worthwhile!"
Carson's hands froze in their ministrations, a small sting of anger going through him.
***
Rodney clicked off his radio and gave Radek a mystified look. For the past three days Carson had begged off dinner, saying he was too busy. Tonight he'd practically snapped Rodney's head off while he was at it.
"I take it Doctor Beckett is busy," Radek said.
"Yeah. I guess he is."
Radek gave him a strange, soft smile that Rodney wasn't sure he understood. "Well, then, over dinner we can discuss some ideas I had for better jumper maintenance protocols."
***
Rodney and Radek were the only people in the lab when Carson arrived the next evening. Radek glanced up, gave Carson a questioning look, and then quickly excused himself to go get coffee.
Rodney grunted, eyes glued to his computer screen. "Bring me back some, too."
Carson watched him in silence as his hands flew over the keyboard, quickly organising his thoughts. The time stretched, but Carson waited. He knew the annoyance of being interrupted when the ideas were flowing perfectly and how hard that was to get back afterward. He watched Rodney's face, expressions flickering across it-- a moment of annoyance while Rodney backspaced over a whole two lines of text, the gleam in his eyes as he muttered "Yes. Yes!" to himself, the concentration as he scanned over what he'd written, thoughtfulness as he went back and changed a few things, and, finally, satisfaction and accomplishment as Rodney leaned back in his chair.
"Rodney?"
The scientist started. "Carson? How long have you been here?"
"A while. I was watching you work."
"Oh. What did you want? It's a little early for dinner."
Carson felt himself tense up. He was mad to even ask, given Rodney's attitude, but he still had to try and make a go of it. "Would ye like to have dinner at my place tomorrow night?"
"Some problem with tonight?" Rodney responded.
Carson cleared his throat and shuffled slightly. "I was wanting to fix something special."
"Why would you...? Oh! Ah. I..." Rodney stuttered and fell silent, swallowing hard. Carson let the moment stretch. "So... This would be a date, right?"
"Aye, it would be."
Rodney stared at him, even his hands falling strangely still.
"We don't have to," Carson assured him. "If you don't think I'm, er, it's worth the problems." He tried to keep the resentment out of his voice. He knew Rodney had little sense when it came to people's feelings. He had to set that aside. If nothing else, they were friends.
Rodney's eyes widened, oh so blue. "You? Of course, you'd be worth it. I just didn't think... Well, I mean... I'm... I'm bad with people and you have so many other choices and..." Rodney blinked. "Really? I mean... you'd... All those problems... For me?"
Carson stepped forward and reached out to cup Rodney's face, tilting it up so he could lean down and kiss that crooked mouth. Rodney made a surprised noise in the back of his throat, but Carson didn't draw back. Instead, he slipped his tongue out to trace slowly along Rodney's lower lip until he felt the other man open to him and he was inside, tasting, exploring, sliding his tongue against Rodney's. He felt himself going hard at just that simple act and pulled away. "Aye, Rodney. For you."
Rodney looked strangely young, surprised, vulnerable, fearful, but, much to Carson's relief, not put out.
"Come to dinner? Please? Seven-thirty."
Rodney swallowed and ran his tongue over his lip, tasting their kiss. "Yeah. Okay."
"Good. I'll leave you to your work, then."
"Wait! What about dinner tonight?"
Carson shook his head. "I'm sorry. I really am busy tonight. Doctor Cantrell is down with some intestinal bug and I've got to fill in."
"Okay. I'm sort of in the middle of something anyway."
Carson nodded. "I could see that. I'll see you tomorrow, Rodney." He gave Rodney's cheek one soft caress and then turned and headed for the door.
"Oh, Carson?"
He turned back. "Yes?"
"I- I didn't mean it like that, you know?"
"I know."
***
Rodney arrived a few minutes early. He took a deep breath and knocked, his stomach doing little flip-flops. It was idiotic that he should be this nervous about Carson, but he was. He glanced down at the bouquet of flowers in his hand, wondering if it was too sentimental a gesture. He supposed he should hide them or something, for a surprise.
He'd gone into a blind panic halfway through the work day when he realised he really ought to bring something for Carson and had been insufferable to his staff until Radek buttonholed him. Within minutes, Miko and Simpson and Radek were offering suggestions while Kavanagh rolled his eyes. A half an hour later, the botany department had gotten involved.
So he found himself standing in the hall outside Carson's doorway hiding a bouquet behind his back and looking way too obvious. He tried to look nonchalant as Doctor Bryce walked by, giving him a knowing smile.
Carson's door finally slid open to reveal Rodney's date in black slacks and a slate grey shirt with just enough blue to bring out the colour of Carson's eyes. The shirt was some sort of soft knit, short-sleeved, showing off strong shoulders and well-muscled arms. Carson smiled, blue eyes sparkling, and Rodney found himself speechless for just a moment.
"Hullo, Rodney," Carson said, voice warm and inviting in a way Rodney had never quite noticed before.
"Hi. Wow. You, uh, you look really good."
"Thank you. Would you like to come in?"
"Oh. Right. Yes." Rodney held out the bouquet, feeling the warmth creep into his face. "I, uh... These are for you. If you want them."
"Oh, Rodney. They're lovely. Thank you." Carson leaned forward and Rodney was aware of the fact that they were going to kiss right out in the doorway to Carson's apartment and that was so not a good idea and... And then Carson's lips were against his, just as soft and warm and perfect as last time. Rodney blinked as Carson pulled away. "Come in, then. I'll get these in some water and then I won't be but a minute with the food."
Rodney had been in Carson's apartment a few times. He'd always liked the warmth of it-- all rich browns and greens with splashes of yellow and orange and red. Pictures of Carson's brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews, mother, aunts and uncles and cousins, and more distant relations were scattered about, somehow fitting in seamlessly with the bits of Athosian pottery, rugs, and blankets. Fragrances like cinnamon and vanilla and pine and buttercreme and apples from the scattered scented candles usually hung in the room. Tonight, however, they were overwhelmed by the glorious odour of real, homecooked food.
Carson had set a table in the middle of the room and covered it with a rich red Athosian throw for a tablecloth. Two candles burned, casting flickering light on pottery bowls and plates. Contrasted against the earthy setting were two crystal wineglasses. Rodney peeked into the covered basket on the table and inhaled the scent of fresh-baked scones.
Carson returned with the flowers, now in a small earthenware ewer and rearranged the table to make them a centerpiece. Carson grinned. "I'm afraid I don't have a vase, but they look well enough in this."
Rodney returned the smile. "I'd probably have to use a beaker or something myself. It smells really good, by the way. What is it?"
"Grilled aichni Balmoral. I'm experimenting a wee bit, but the taste always made me think of salmon."
"So, Pegasus Galaxy foods meet Scottish cooking techniques?"
Carson chuckled. "Well, we may not be known as great artists when it comes to food, but Scottish cooking is always good and filling."
"Fine with me. The French and Americans can keep their nouveau cuisine."
Carson turned and headed back toward his small kitchenette.
"Can I help with anything?" Rodney offered.
"Come get the wine," Carson answered.
"Wine? You really have gone all out," he said as he followed Carson.
"It's a pinot noir from California. I've never heard of the vintner, but it was quite a task of trading to get it."
Rodney picked up the bottle and read the label. He'd never heard of them either, but he was hardly an expert on American wines. He pulled out his Swiss army knife and began twisting the corkscrew into the cork. "You didn't have to go to all this trouble, you know."
Carson smiled at him. "I wanted to. The glasses are on the table."
"Got it. Mashed potatoes?"
"Clapshot. Or, well, something very like it."
"Isn't that something you administer to unfortunate personnel who've gotten a little too, ah, into the native culture?"
"Very funny, Rodney. It's usually made with potatoes and turnips and chives. This is made with potatoes and faneroot and minsle grass."
"More experiments?"
"I've tried this one before. It's remarkably close, actually. A wee bit sweeter perhaps."
"Oh? Who'd you cook it for, anyway?" Rodney tried not to sound too curious.
Carson carried the vegetable dish and a big bowl of salad to the table. "I cooked it for me. I get tired of the food in the cafeteria sometimes." His watch beeped. "And that would be the fish."
Rodney poured the wine while Carson carried out the fish and then they were all ready and he found himself sitting at a candlelit table over a dinner that Carson had obviously taken a lot of trouble with and he couldn't think of a single thing to say.
***
Carson sat and gazed across the table at Rodney, who looked delicious in a blue and black striped button-up shirt, open enough to reveal a patch of chest hair. He'd tried to spike up his hair a bit and Carson could smell a hint of cologne-- something herby with a touch of musk and mint. Carson suspected it might actually be a local concoction, as he'd smelt something similar on a few Pegasus natives here and there. It blended well with Rodney's own natural chemistry and made Carson want to bury his face against Rodney's skin and scent out where Rodney had splashed it.
Carson had to smile to see that Rodney was so obviously nervous. It was strangely endearing. He was about to break the tension and open the conversation when Rodney took a bite of the fish. Rodney's moan of pleasure as his eyes closed, eyelashes dark against pale skin, was sheer, unadulterated pornography and Carson's mouth went dry at the sight.
Rodney opened his eyes and Carson closed his mouth and tried to recover his equilibrium.
"This is really good. I don't usually eat a lot of fish because so many times it's been cooked with lemon juice or something, but this is... You should teach this recipe to the cooks."
"Thank you, but I'm afraid it probably wouldn't size up too well."
"Probably true. Did you ever see the show M*A*S*H?"
"I think I may have caught it a time or two. Rather dark comedy for an American show."
Rodney nodded. "I remember I saw one episode where Hawkeye--"
"The dark-haired fellow? Alan Alda's character?"
"Right. He gets put in charge of the mess and tries to teach the cook to make French toast like back home. You know as soon as the cook dumps instant egg powder into this huge vat that Hawkeye's delusional to even think it'd be similar."
Carson chuckled. "At least they didn't have to deal with strange ingredients on top of freeze-dried food."
So they were off and if Rodney noticed the silences that descended when he was especially appreciative of the flavour, he didn't say anything.
***
"Wouldn't this be Irish coffee?" Rodney teased as they settled down on Carson's sofa.
"Not when it's made with Scotch whisky," Carson shot back, taking Rodney's cup and setting it on the end table.
"Hey! What--?"
"It needs to cool a wee bit anyway," Carson said, something mischievous in his eyes as he set his own cup down. His face turned intent and then he was leaning in and kissing Rodney.
Rodney hadn't spent an evening just making out since his undergraduate days. Usually, this amount of kissing and caressing would lead to sex, but Carson seemed content, so Rodney didn't push. They exchanged coffee-flavoured kisses, bodies pressed close, hands learning the geography of the other's face and shoulders, arms and back and chest. When Carson's fingers creeped under Rodney's shirt to sweep warm and sensuous across his back, Rodney groaned into Carson's mouth, holding him tighter.
"No more rash?" Carson asked.
"What? Oh. No. It went down in a couple of days. Should we be talking about rashes right now?"
Carson chuckled. "Is the design still there?"
"Yeah. It's supposed to last for a couple of weeks."
"May I see it?"
"Sure," Rodney answered, sitting back, turning around and pulling off his shirt.
"Oh!" Carson said, fingers tracing the swirling designs. "It's a shame you're allergic to the dye."
"You really like it?"
"Oh, aye. It's lovely."
Rodney shuddered as Carson's fingers were replaced by his mouth tracing a path of kisses across the pattern, starting at his shoulders. Carson's progress across his back was slow and sensuous, maddening and wonderful. Rodney's breath hitched as Carson's tongue flicked out against his spine, warm hands curling around his hips to hold him still.
The headset on the end table beeped. Carson ignored it.
"Um. Shouldn't you get that?"
"My staff knows I'm on a date tonight, but I figured they might forget," Carson said, then licked out again. "I told them to page me twice if it was a real emergency."
"Oh. Okay. That was a... a good idea." Rodney gasped as Carson's mouth reached the small of his back. "You, uh, you didn't tell them who with, did you?"
"What?"
"Your staff. You didn't tell them your date was with me, did you?"
Carson sat up. "Why wouldn't I?"
"I don't know. I just thought maybe you, uh, wouldn't want them to know."
Carson tugged on him, turning his around. "Rodney, are you... You're not ashamed of this, are you?"
"No! I... No. It's just... You're a doctor."
"And what does that have to do with anything?"
"Well, you- you have to see patients... other men... naked and, you know, especially the military men..."
Carson's eyes softened. "Oh, love. I'll not deny who I am or who I'm with, even if I do work with military men."
"But it's me," Rodney said, wishing he could explain himself better.
Carson's smile was sad as he reached out and cupped Rodney's face. "Aye, it is you and I'll not be hiding that." Carson's headset beeped. He grimaced, then it beeped again. He sighed and reached for it. "Beckett here. Yes? When? All right. I'll be down." He gave Rodney an apologetic look. "Doctor Cantrell was still feeling ill, so she went home and left the infirmary in charge of the night nurse. There's usually not much call for a doctor anyway, but we've had someone come in and it looks like it might be appendicitis. I'm sorry."
"It's okay," Rodney answered, trying to hide his disappointment. "Maybe you could come to my place in a couple of days. I'll return the favour."
Carson smiled and gave him a quick kiss. "It's a date."
***
"Oh my God! What was I thinking?" Rodney whined, pacing around the lab. "My greatest culinary achievement is ordering pizza and making decent coffee."
"You will not achieve much by panicking," Radek said.
"I'm not panicking."
Kavanagh snorted. Rodney glared at him.
"Sit down," Radek ordered. "We will think through this."
"Stir-fry is not that difficult," Miko suggested. "Serve over rice with some nice tea."
"Or stew of some sort. Surely there must be something that's traditionally Canadian, isn't there?"
"Yes," Rodney answered, "but not that I can cook."
"Baked chicken is simple and delicious," Radek suggested.
"You're all getting too complicated," Kavanagh said. "What kind of cooking set-up do you have in your apartment, McKay?"
"Um. Well... Not really anything, to be honest. A coffee pot."
"There you go," Kavanagh spread out his hands. "So don't cook. Get some different cheeses, some spiced meats, crackers or bread, fresh vegetables and dipping sauces and a nice bottle of wine and don't sweat it."
"You're suggesting I not cook anything?"
"Exactly. Light some candles, turn on some music, have some flowers on the table. Feed each other for all I care. He'll think it's romantic."
"That's... Actually, that's not a bad idea." Rodney blinked at the usually-annoying scientist. "Thank you, Kavanagh."
"No problem. Now, about this water treatment maintenance schedule..."
***
Rodney had suggested Carson come casual, since it wasn't like they had that many off-duty outfits here, so his date had shown up in a pair of jeans and a plain black tee-shirt that clung enticingly to his shoulders. As Rodney took a moment to admire, he caught sight of something slightly off about the chest before Carson moved and the shirt shifted and wrinkled, hiding whatever it was.
All through dinner, Rodney kept watching, curious, but not sure enough to ask. It was something about Carson's left nipple and it was driving him to distraction because he was certain he would have noticed something like that before now.
"So, what did you do?" Carson asked, leaning back in his chair and stretching, pulling the shirt taut against his chest. There it was! Whatever "it" was... "Rodney?"
"Hm? Oh. Well, I finally managed to find someone who spoke English-- atrociously, but I wasn't choosy at that point-- and got it sorted out."
"Ah. That's good." Carson shifted and it was gone.
"Um. I, uh, didn't do anything fancy for dessert-- just coffee and cookies. I thought maybe we could, ah, sit on the sofa and have them?"
"That would be lovely."
"I know dinner wasn't much..."
"Rodney, it was fine. I expected you to just bring a couple of plates from the cafeteria, to be honest, seeing as how your apartment doesn't have cooking facilities, so this was an unexpected surprise... and quite delicious."
"Okay... Good. Let me just get the, uh, cookies and coffee, then."
It didn't take long before they were exchanging kisses flavoured with coffee and chocolate, shifting slowly until they were laying against each other on their sides, arms wrapped around one another. As Carson's chest pressed against his own, Rodney felt a small knot of something hard against his right nipple. Dying of curiosity, he pulled back enough to slip a hand under Carson's shirt and snake his way upwards to the mysterious object.
Carson let out a gasp as Rodney's finger circled around his nipple and then came in contact with body-warmed metal.
"Oh, my God!" Rodney yelped, sweeping Carson's shirt up to reveal... "You have a nipple ring! Carson, what...? Why...? You're a doctor!"
"Even doctors can have a wild youth, Rodney."
"But you... you let someone stick a needle through your nipple?" Rodney shuddered.
Carson gave him a rueful smile. "I was a wee bit drunk at the time." The smile left his face then to be replaced be a worried look. "I thought ye might like it."
Rodney fingered the silver metal, tracing it to Carson's nub and then down the other side, fascinated despite himself. He noted Carson's breath catch as he shifted the ring slightly. "Does it hurt?"
"Now? No. But it is quite sensitive."
"Sensitive as in... pleasure?" he asked, watching Carson's face intently as he moved the ring again.
Carson's breath stuttered. "God, yes!"
"Huh." He leaned down and tongued it, shifting it even more, and Carson arched against him, groaning. "I think I might be persuaded to give it a try..."
***
"What the hell was so important that you had to call me?" Rodney demanded in annoyance.
Kavanagh pointed to where Miko lay curled on the floor, apparently unconscious, something curled into her hand. "I came in to check on something and found her like that."
"So why didn't you call the infirmary?" Rodney demanded, stepping over to her and reaching down. His hand was stopped by a strange red glow.
"That's why."
***
"It's not working, McKay," the Colonel gritted.
"Think harder, Colonel."
"Rodney! It's not working."
"Okay, okay. Let me think. Kavanagh, any clue what she was working on?"
"There's nothing on her laptop that fits what we can see of the object. I'm checking the inventory to see what's missing."
Carson bent down, fingers skating over the red force field. "Miko, lass, can ye hear us? You need to think 'Off' at the object."
Miko moaned and shifted slightly.
"Let me try," Kavanagh said, walking over.
"You don't have the gene," Rodney said.
"But I do speak a little Japanese. It can't hurt to try."
In the end, they never did know whether Kavanagh got through to Miko or whether the combined efforts of John, Rodney and Carson all thinking "Off" at the device finally worked. They only knew that Miko went limp and the object rolled from her hand.
"Okay," Rodney said, "this is going in the 'Dangerous Objects' box right now."
Carson directed his team as Miko was shifted to a gurney, checking her vitals quickly. As they rolled her toward the door, Carson turned to Rodney. "I'll let you know how she is as soon as we know anything."
"Thanks, Carson. Sorry we didn't get to, uh, finish our date."
Carson grinned. "Tomorrow, maybe? I'll cook."
"Yeah. Sounds good."
***
They pressed against each other, tongues slipping into mouths, hands skating against skin. Rodney's fingers teased at Carson's nipple ring, making him gasp and moan and arch deliciously.
"I want you," Carson breathed into Rodney's ear. "Inside you."
Rodney shuddered, nodding, his hands drifting down to Carson's waistband.
"Oh, God!" Carson groaned as Rodney opened the front of his jeans and slipped his hand inside. "There's... something I should tell you..."
But it was already too late. "Shit!" Rodney exclaimed, pulling Carson's erection out of his boxers and staring at the curved metal ring that disappeared into Carson's slit. The other end peeked out from under the foreskin, which Rodney peeled back-- with a gasp from Carson-- to reveal the ring emerging on the underside, just below the head. "And here I thought you were crazy for getting a nipple piercing."
"Did I mention I was a wee bit drunk?"
"Okay, so I could see getting it, I guess," Rodney admitted. "But keeping it once you were sober?"
"Well, there was a group of us went together and got various things done. Apparently the word got out, because the next day I had a dozen people asking me to drop trou and show it off." Carson grinned mischievously.
"Oh, God, I so don't need to dwell on your misspent youth." He was staring at it in spite of himself. The nipple piercing had been a shock, but once he'd seen how responsive Carson was with it... "So, uh, does this... Does this make you more sensitive, too?"
"Very, very much so." Carson reached out and wrapped Rodney's hand around his cock. "But it's not just me that gets extra pleasure. I understand the sensation can be quite intense on the recipient's side as well."
Rodney blinked up at him. "You, uh... You have sex with it in?"
"I can. I can take it out if ye don't want to, though."
"But... Isn't there a risk of it, um... getting lost up there? Or- or... tearing or something?"
Carson chuckled. "No, love. I could tell you stories, but that would involve my misspent youth. Just trust me on it."
Rodney looked down at his hand as he slowly stroked Carson's cock, watched the metal gleam and flash as Carson's hips thrust up and down.
Carson moaned and closed his eyes. "Or we could just do this..."
If Rodney were honest with himself, Carson looked like sex incarnate. His body was sheened with a light sweat, glowing golden in the light of the candles. His lips were red and swollen from all the kissing, hair damp and mussed. The nipple ring caught the light, drawing Rodney's eye. The sight of him, sensuous and unabashedly sexual, had Rodney achingly hard and yearning. "No, I want to..." Rodney licked his lips. "I want you inside me."
Carson's eyes slitted open, a hint of a smile on his lips. "With the jewelry on?"
"Yeah. I- I think so."
Carson sighed. "Good. You'll like it. But I'm afraid we probably ought to move to the bed. It'll be more comfortable and all my supplies are in the drawer there."
Rodney nodded. They managed to disentangle themselves enough to scramble off the couch and make it into the bedroom, where they shed the last of their clothes before sitting down on the bed.
There was a brief moment of uncomfortable silence, then Carson said, "Lay on your stomach, love. I want to explore your back while I open you up."
And maybe that shouldn't have sounded as insanely hot as it did, but Rodney lost no time in complying and soon had Carson dropping kisses over the henna-like patterns. Carson's hands cupped his ass cheeks, squeezing and caressing for long moments before he finally reached across Rodney and into the side-table drawer, and then a slick finger was teasing at Rodney's opening while his tongue flicked out to trace patterns on Rodney's skin. Rodney moaned and spread his legs wider as the finger breached him.
"Mmmm... Yes, love. So warm and tight..."
Rodney pushed back, taking Carson's finger deeper. It had been far too long. "Oh, yeah! More..."
"Patience," Carson murmured into his skin and returned to licking and kissing his shoulders. His finger took Rodney in a slow rhythm, twisting and teasing before finally adding a second finger.
Rodney groaned, burying his face in Carson's pillow. Carson's scent filled his nostrils as Carson's fingers scissored him open, preparing him. Some small part of Rodney marvelled that he was here doing this with Carson.
"Ready, love?"
"Mmm. Yeah."
"Get up on all fours for me," Carson instructed.
Rodney complied while Carson tore open a condom and rolled it on.
Carson leaned down and kissed the juncture of his neck and shoulder. "I'm going to take you now," he whispered, sending a shiver of desire down Rodney's spine.
"Oh, God. Take me!"
Carson pressed against him, pushing into him, and as always there was one brief moment where Rodney felt he couldn't stand it and then Carson's cock head slid past the tight ring of muscle and it was all heat and fullness and perfection. Carson gasped, hot breath against his ear. "So good... Oh, love!"
Rodney pressed back, wanting him deeper. "Need you. Please, Carson, fuck me."
Carson groaned, arms curling under Rodney's arms to grasp his shoulders. Carson's hips bucked forward, pushing him into Rodney deep. At first, Rodney didn't feel anything different from other men he'd been with, then Carson withdrew, adjusted his angle slightly, and pushed back in. Rodney stopped breathing, stopped moving, stopped thinking, as the smooth, hard surface slid against his prostate, flashing pleasure so intense through him that all Rodney could do was tremble and groan under the assault on his senses.
"There..." Carson murmured, biting down against his shoulder and pushing into him again. The sensation was just as intense, almost agonising. "Good?"
"Nnnnn..."
"Going to take you faster and harder now," Carson whispered, voice strained and breathless.
Somewhere Rodney knew what Carson was saying, but his body only knew more and deeper and more, oh God, more and the utter surrender as Carson's thrusts picked up in speed and intensity. His body answered Carson's urgency, pushing back, straining to open himself even wider, grunts and moans and sounds of animal need emerging from his throat unchecked.
Carson's grip tightened on his shoulders, digging in deep as he pulled Rodney back onto his thrusting cock, but Rodney's focus was drawing downward and inward, to the heat of Carson deep within him and the knot of hard pleasure as it slid against his inner wall. The sensation shot heat into his cock, making it twitch with each thrust.
Carson's voice had fallen silent to be replaced by harsh breathing in his ear, gasps, and wordless cries of pleasure.
Carson went tense against him, slamming deep and letting out a loud groan as he throbbed inside Rodney's body. After the first few hard pulses he began thrusting again, short and quick, rubbing the hard nub of jewelry against Rodney's sweet spot.
Rodney gasped, his whole body drawing up tight.
"Come," Carson growled in his ear.
And Rodney did, cock throbbing as come pulsed out of him and onto the bed below. He was still jerking with the aftereffects when his arms gave out and he collapsed onto the bed. Carson followed him down, curling against him, hot and sweaty and perfect.
***
Rodney was still zoned out, mind blown, when Carson was recovered enough to dump the used condom in the bedside trash, slip out of the bed and pad to the bathroom for a washcloth. He returned to the bed and gently cleaned them up as best as he could.
"Rodney? Do ye want to move so I can change the sheets, love? Rodney?" He smiled down in exasperated affection, draped the washcloth over the edge of the trashcan, and curled around his lover.
Sometime in the middle of the night, he awoke to find Rodney slowly exploring the silver ring in his cock with light touches, eyes thoughtful.
"So was I right?" Carson asked, stretching.
Rodney smiled. "Yeah." His eyes flicked to Carson's face. "Didn't it hurt?"
Carson shrugged. "Not nearly as much as the nipple piercing, actually. Bled like the devil, though."
"So... was it worth it?"
Carson reached out and pulled Rodney back against him. "Definitely worth it."
"Huh," Rodney said, then gave a happy sigh, and curled against him. "Yeah. I suppose it was."
Author: SGAtlantisLight
Characters: Rodney, Carson, John, Radek, Miko, Simpson, Kavanagh
Relationships: Beckett/McKay
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Smut, first time, piercing
Spoilers: None
Summary: They'd been friends for some time, but when they start dating, they discover some new and exciting things about each other.
Excerpt: He'd gone into a blind panic halfway through the work day when he realised he really ought to bring something for Carson and had been insufferable to his staff until Radek buttonholed him.
Disclaimer: Undoubtedly I own them, and a whole lot of other things, in some universe, but not this one.
Author's Note: Thanks to
mice1900 and lapislaz for quick beta.Rodney had considered it, of course. He and Carson had been friends since Antarctica and spent a lot of time together as it was. It hadn't taken them too long to sort out that they were both bi. But the military presence on Atlantis and a good friendship that he didn't want to screw up had given him pause. They'd never really discussed it, but Carson seemed just as hesitant.
But as time went on, their dinners together seemed to be getting more intense with an electrical undercurrent. Rodney became more and more aware of Carson's touches, the blue of his eyes, the way Carson's voice just seemed to vibrate through him.
"You know I've talked to my men about tolerance," Sheppard said one evening at dinner.
"Pardon?" Carson said.
The colonel rolled his eyes and looked between Carson and Rodney. "You two. You should, you know..."
"We should?" Rodney asked.
Sheppard shrugged and gestured between them. "You know. Get together."
"Dear God, you're an idiot! As if one talk is going to change anything! I've worked with the American military, colonel. It's not worth it."
Carson flinched as if slapped and then stood. "Excuse me. I've got some samples to check."
"Carson!" Rodney called, but the doctor didn't slow. "What did I say?"
Sheppard merely raised his hands in surrender. "I shouldn't have brought it up. Sorry."
***
Rodney squirmed on the infirmary bed while Carson spread cream along the gently arching swirls that covered his back. "It's not helping! It still itches."
"Give it a wee bit." Rodney had already taken an antihistamine. Carson hoped that would be sufficient.
Sheppard smirked as he pulled on his shirt, covering the curling red-brown stains on his own skin.
"And you! 'Oh, come on, McKay! It'll show them we're friendly. What could it hurt?' Why the hell did I listen to you?"
"How was I supposed to know you'd be allergic to it?"
"The blisters will probably scar and then those 'temporary' patterns will be permanent and I'll be a laughingstock."
"Oh, come now, Rodney," Carson interrupted. "When have you ever had anything scar like that? And you wouldn't be a laughingstock in any case. The patterns are really quite lovely."
"How reassuring. 'You probably won't scar, but if you do at least they'll be pretty!' That would make it all so worthwhile!"
Carson's hands froze in their ministrations, a small sting of anger going through him.
***
Rodney clicked off his radio and gave Radek a mystified look. For the past three days Carson had begged off dinner, saying he was too busy. Tonight he'd practically snapped Rodney's head off while he was at it.
"I take it Doctor Beckett is busy," Radek said.
"Yeah. I guess he is."
Radek gave him a strange, soft smile that Rodney wasn't sure he understood. "Well, then, over dinner we can discuss some ideas I had for better jumper maintenance protocols."
***
Rodney and Radek were the only people in the lab when Carson arrived the next evening. Radek glanced up, gave Carson a questioning look, and then quickly excused himself to go get coffee.
Rodney grunted, eyes glued to his computer screen. "Bring me back some, too."
Carson watched him in silence as his hands flew over the keyboard, quickly organising his thoughts. The time stretched, but Carson waited. He knew the annoyance of being interrupted when the ideas were flowing perfectly and how hard that was to get back afterward. He watched Rodney's face, expressions flickering across it-- a moment of annoyance while Rodney backspaced over a whole two lines of text, the gleam in his eyes as he muttered "Yes. Yes!" to himself, the concentration as he scanned over what he'd written, thoughtfulness as he went back and changed a few things, and, finally, satisfaction and accomplishment as Rodney leaned back in his chair.
"Rodney?"
The scientist started. "Carson? How long have you been here?"
"A while. I was watching you work."
"Oh. What did you want? It's a little early for dinner."
Carson felt himself tense up. He was mad to even ask, given Rodney's attitude, but he still had to try and make a go of it. "Would ye like to have dinner at my place tomorrow night?"
"Some problem with tonight?" Rodney responded.
Carson cleared his throat and shuffled slightly. "I was wanting to fix something special."
"Why would you...? Oh! Ah. I..." Rodney stuttered and fell silent, swallowing hard. Carson let the moment stretch. "So... This would be a date, right?"
"Aye, it would be."
Rodney stared at him, even his hands falling strangely still.
"We don't have to," Carson assured him. "If you don't think I'm, er, it's worth the problems." He tried to keep the resentment out of his voice. He knew Rodney had little sense when it came to people's feelings. He had to set that aside. If nothing else, they were friends.
Rodney's eyes widened, oh so blue. "You? Of course, you'd be worth it. I just didn't think... Well, I mean... I'm... I'm bad with people and you have so many other choices and..." Rodney blinked. "Really? I mean... you'd... All those problems... For me?"
Carson stepped forward and reached out to cup Rodney's face, tilting it up so he could lean down and kiss that crooked mouth. Rodney made a surprised noise in the back of his throat, but Carson didn't draw back. Instead, he slipped his tongue out to trace slowly along Rodney's lower lip until he felt the other man open to him and he was inside, tasting, exploring, sliding his tongue against Rodney's. He felt himself going hard at just that simple act and pulled away. "Aye, Rodney. For you."
Rodney looked strangely young, surprised, vulnerable, fearful, but, much to Carson's relief, not put out.
"Come to dinner? Please? Seven-thirty."
Rodney swallowed and ran his tongue over his lip, tasting their kiss. "Yeah. Okay."
"Good. I'll leave you to your work, then."
"Wait! What about dinner tonight?"
Carson shook his head. "I'm sorry. I really am busy tonight. Doctor Cantrell is down with some intestinal bug and I've got to fill in."
"Okay. I'm sort of in the middle of something anyway."
Carson nodded. "I could see that. I'll see you tomorrow, Rodney." He gave Rodney's cheek one soft caress and then turned and headed for the door.
"Oh, Carson?"
He turned back. "Yes?"
"I- I didn't mean it like that, you know?"
"I know."
***
Rodney arrived a few minutes early. He took a deep breath and knocked, his stomach doing little flip-flops. It was idiotic that he should be this nervous about Carson, but he was. He glanced down at the bouquet of flowers in his hand, wondering if it was too sentimental a gesture. He supposed he should hide them or something, for a surprise.
He'd gone into a blind panic halfway through the work day when he realised he really ought to bring something for Carson and had been insufferable to his staff until Radek buttonholed him. Within minutes, Miko and Simpson and Radek were offering suggestions while Kavanagh rolled his eyes. A half an hour later, the botany department had gotten involved.
So he found himself standing in the hall outside Carson's doorway hiding a bouquet behind his back and looking way too obvious. He tried to look nonchalant as Doctor Bryce walked by, giving him a knowing smile.
Carson's door finally slid open to reveal Rodney's date in black slacks and a slate grey shirt with just enough blue to bring out the colour of Carson's eyes. The shirt was some sort of soft knit, short-sleeved, showing off strong shoulders and well-muscled arms. Carson smiled, blue eyes sparkling, and Rodney found himself speechless for just a moment.
"Hullo, Rodney," Carson said, voice warm and inviting in a way Rodney had never quite noticed before.
"Hi. Wow. You, uh, you look really good."
"Thank you. Would you like to come in?"
"Oh. Right. Yes." Rodney held out the bouquet, feeling the warmth creep into his face. "I, uh... These are for you. If you want them."
"Oh, Rodney. They're lovely. Thank you." Carson leaned forward and Rodney was aware of the fact that they were going to kiss right out in the doorway to Carson's apartment and that was so not a good idea and... And then Carson's lips were against his, just as soft and warm and perfect as last time. Rodney blinked as Carson pulled away. "Come in, then. I'll get these in some water and then I won't be but a minute with the food."
Rodney had been in Carson's apartment a few times. He'd always liked the warmth of it-- all rich browns and greens with splashes of yellow and orange and red. Pictures of Carson's brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews, mother, aunts and uncles and cousins, and more distant relations were scattered about, somehow fitting in seamlessly with the bits of Athosian pottery, rugs, and blankets. Fragrances like cinnamon and vanilla and pine and buttercreme and apples from the scattered scented candles usually hung in the room. Tonight, however, they were overwhelmed by the glorious odour of real, homecooked food.
Carson had set a table in the middle of the room and covered it with a rich red Athosian throw for a tablecloth. Two candles burned, casting flickering light on pottery bowls and plates. Contrasted against the earthy setting were two crystal wineglasses. Rodney peeked into the covered basket on the table and inhaled the scent of fresh-baked scones.
Carson returned with the flowers, now in a small earthenware ewer and rearranged the table to make them a centerpiece. Carson grinned. "I'm afraid I don't have a vase, but they look well enough in this."
Rodney returned the smile. "I'd probably have to use a beaker or something myself. It smells really good, by the way. What is it?"
"Grilled aichni Balmoral. I'm experimenting a wee bit, but the taste always made me think of salmon."
"So, Pegasus Galaxy foods meet Scottish cooking techniques?"
Carson chuckled. "Well, we may not be known as great artists when it comes to food, but Scottish cooking is always good and filling."
"Fine with me. The French and Americans can keep their nouveau cuisine."
Carson turned and headed back toward his small kitchenette.
"Can I help with anything?" Rodney offered.
"Come get the wine," Carson answered.
"Wine? You really have gone all out," he said as he followed Carson.
"It's a pinot noir from California. I've never heard of the vintner, but it was quite a task of trading to get it."
Rodney picked up the bottle and read the label. He'd never heard of them either, but he was hardly an expert on American wines. He pulled out his Swiss army knife and began twisting the corkscrew into the cork. "You didn't have to go to all this trouble, you know."
Carson smiled at him. "I wanted to. The glasses are on the table."
"Got it. Mashed potatoes?"
"Clapshot. Or, well, something very like it."
"Isn't that something you administer to unfortunate personnel who've gotten a little too, ah, into the native culture?"
"Very funny, Rodney. It's usually made with potatoes and turnips and chives. This is made with potatoes and faneroot and minsle grass."
"More experiments?"
"I've tried this one before. It's remarkably close, actually. A wee bit sweeter perhaps."
"Oh? Who'd you cook it for, anyway?" Rodney tried not to sound too curious.
Carson carried the vegetable dish and a big bowl of salad to the table. "I cooked it for me. I get tired of the food in the cafeteria sometimes." His watch beeped. "And that would be the fish."
Rodney poured the wine while Carson carried out the fish and then they were all ready and he found himself sitting at a candlelit table over a dinner that Carson had obviously taken a lot of trouble with and he couldn't think of a single thing to say.
***
Carson sat and gazed across the table at Rodney, who looked delicious in a blue and black striped button-up shirt, open enough to reveal a patch of chest hair. He'd tried to spike up his hair a bit and Carson could smell a hint of cologne-- something herby with a touch of musk and mint. Carson suspected it might actually be a local concoction, as he'd smelt something similar on a few Pegasus natives here and there. It blended well with Rodney's own natural chemistry and made Carson want to bury his face against Rodney's skin and scent out where Rodney had splashed it.
Carson had to smile to see that Rodney was so obviously nervous. It was strangely endearing. He was about to break the tension and open the conversation when Rodney took a bite of the fish. Rodney's moan of pleasure as his eyes closed, eyelashes dark against pale skin, was sheer, unadulterated pornography and Carson's mouth went dry at the sight.
Rodney opened his eyes and Carson closed his mouth and tried to recover his equilibrium.
"This is really good. I don't usually eat a lot of fish because so many times it's been cooked with lemon juice or something, but this is... You should teach this recipe to the cooks."
"Thank you, but I'm afraid it probably wouldn't size up too well."
"Probably true. Did you ever see the show M*A*S*H?"
"I think I may have caught it a time or two. Rather dark comedy for an American show."
Rodney nodded. "I remember I saw one episode where Hawkeye--"
"The dark-haired fellow? Alan Alda's character?"
"Right. He gets put in charge of the mess and tries to teach the cook to make French toast like back home. You know as soon as the cook dumps instant egg powder into this huge vat that Hawkeye's delusional to even think it'd be similar."
Carson chuckled. "At least they didn't have to deal with strange ingredients on top of freeze-dried food."
So they were off and if Rodney noticed the silences that descended when he was especially appreciative of the flavour, he didn't say anything.
***
"Wouldn't this be Irish coffee?" Rodney teased as they settled down on Carson's sofa.
"Not when it's made with Scotch whisky," Carson shot back, taking Rodney's cup and setting it on the end table.
"Hey! What--?"
"It needs to cool a wee bit anyway," Carson said, something mischievous in his eyes as he set his own cup down. His face turned intent and then he was leaning in and kissing Rodney.
Rodney hadn't spent an evening just making out since his undergraduate days. Usually, this amount of kissing and caressing would lead to sex, but Carson seemed content, so Rodney didn't push. They exchanged coffee-flavoured kisses, bodies pressed close, hands learning the geography of the other's face and shoulders, arms and back and chest. When Carson's fingers creeped under Rodney's shirt to sweep warm and sensuous across his back, Rodney groaned into Carson's mouth, holding him tighter.
"No more rash?" Carson asked.
"What? Oh. No. It went down in a couple of days. Should we be talking about rashes right now?"
Carson chuckled. "Is the design still there?"
"Yeah. It's supposed to last for a couple of weeks."
"May I see it?"
"Sure," Rodney answered, sitting back, turning around and pulling off his shirt.
"Oh!" Carson said, fingers tracing the swirling designs. "It's a shame you're allergic to the dye."
"You really like it?"
"Oh, aye. It's lovely."
Rodney shuddered as Carson's fingers were replaced by his mouth tracing a path of kisses across the pattern, starting at his shoulders. Carson's progress across his back was slow and sensuous, maddening and wonderful. Rodney's breath hitched as Carson's tongue flicked out against his spine, warm hands curling around his hips to hold him still.
The headset on the end table beeped. Carson ignored it.
"Um. Shouldn't you get that?"
"My staff knows I'm on a date tonight, but I figured they might forget," Carson said, then licked out again. "I told them to page me twice if it was a real emergency."
"Oh. Okay. That was a... a good idea." Rodney gasped as Carson's mouth reached the small of his back. "You, uh, you didn't tell them who with, did you?"
"What?"
"Your staff. You didn't tell them your date was with me, did you?"
Carson sat up. "Why wouldn't I?"
"I don't know. I just thought maybe you, uh, wouldn't want them to know."
Carson tugged on him, turning his around. "Rodney, are you... You're not ashamed of this, are you?"
"No! I... No. It's just... You're a doctor."
"And what does that have to do with anything?"
"Well, you- you have to see patients... other men... naked and, you know, especially the military men..."
Carson's eyes softened. "Oh, love. I'll not deny who I am or who I'm with, even if I do work with military men."
"But it's me," Rodney said, wishing he could explain himself better.
Carson's smile was sad as he reached out and cupped Rodney's face. "Aye, it is you and I'll not be hiding that." Carson's headset beeped. He grimaced, then it beeped again. He sighed and reached for it. "Beckett here. Yes? When? All right. I'll be down." He gave Rodney an apologetic look. "Doctor Cantrell was still feeling ill, so she went home and left the infirmary in charge of the night nurse. There's usually not much call for a doctor anyway, but we've had someone come in and it looks like it might be appendicitis. I'm sorry."
"It's okay," Rodney answered, trying to hide his disappointment. "Maybe you could come to my place in a couple of days. I'll return the favour."
Carson smiled and gave him a quick kiss. "It's a date."
***
"Oh my God! What was I thinking?" Rodney whined, pacing around the lab. "My greatest culinary achievement is ordering pizza and making decent coffee."
"You will not achieve much by panicking," Radek said.
"I'm not panicking."
Kavanagh snorted. Rodney glared at him.
"Sit down," Radek ordered. "We will think through this."
"Stir-fry is not that difficult," Miko suggested. "Serve over rice with some nice tea."
"Or stew of some sort. Surely there must be something that's traditionally Canadian, isn't there?"
"Yes," Rodney answered, "but not that I can cook."
"Baked chicken is simple and delicious," Radek suggested.
"You're all getting too complicated," Kavanagh said. "What kind of cooking set-up do you have in your apartment, McKay?"
"Um. Well... Not really anything, to be honest. A coffee pot."
"There you go," Kavanagh spread out his hands. "So don't cook. Get some different cheeses, some spiced meats, crackers or bread, fresh vegetables and dipping sauces and a nice bottle of wine and don't sweat it."
"You're suggesting I not cook anything?"
"Exactly. Light some candles, turn on some music, have some flowers on the table. Feed each other for all I care. He'll think it's romantic."
"That's... Actually, that's not a bad idea." Rodney blinked at the usually-annoying scientist. "Thank you, Kavanagh."
"No problem. Now, about this water treatment maintenance schedule..."
***
Rodney had suggested Carson come casual, since it wasn't like they had that many off-duty outfits here, so his date had shown up in a pair of jeans and a plain black tee-shirt that clung enticingly to his shoulders. As Rodney took a moment to admire, he caught sight of something slightly off about the chest before Carson moved and the shirt shifted and wrinkled, hiding whatever it was.
All through dinner, Rodney kept watching, curious, but not sure enough to ask. It was something about Carson's left nipple and it was driving him to distraction because he was certain he would have noticed something like that before now.
"So, what did you do?" Carson asked, leaning back in his chair and stretching, pulling the shirt taut against his chest. There it was! Whatever "it" was... "Rodney?"
"Hm? Oh. Well, I finally managed to find someone who spoke English-- atrociously, but I wasn't choosy at that point-- and got it sorted out."
"Ah. That's good." Carson shifted and it was gone.
"Um. I, uh, didn't do anything fancy for dessert-- just coffee and cookies. I thought maybe we could, ah, sit on the sofa and have them?"
"That would be lovely."
"I know dinner wasn't much..."
"Rodney, it was fine. I expected you to just bring a couple of plates from the cafeteria, to be honest, seeing as how your apartment doesn't have cooking facilities, so this was an unexpected surprise... and quite delicious."
"Okay... Good. Let me just get the, uh, cookies and coffee, then."
It didn't take long before they were exchanging kisses flavoured with coffee and chocolate, shifting slowly until they were laying against each other on their sides, arms wrapped around one another. As Carson's chest pressed against his own, Rodney felt a small knot of something hard against his right nipple. Dying of curiosity, he pulled back enough to slip a hand under Carson's shirt and snake his way upwards to the mysterious object.
Carson let out a gasp as Rodney's finger circled around his nipple and then came in contact with body-warmed metal.
"Oh, my God!" Rodney yelped, sweeping Carson's shirt up to reveal... "You have a nipple ring! Carson, what...? Why...? You're a doctor!"
"Even doctors can have a wild youth, Rodney."
"But you... you let someone stick a needle through your nipple?" Rodney shuddered.
Carson gave him a rueful smile. "I was a wee bit drunk at the time." The smile left his face then to be replaced be a worried look. "I thought ye might like it."
Rodney fingered the silver metal, tracing it to Carson's nub and then down the other side, fascinated despite himself. He noted Carson's breath catch as he shifted the ring slightly. "Does it hurt?"
"Now? No. But it is quite sensitive."
"Sensitive as in... pleasure?" he asked, watching Carson's face intently as he moved the ring again.
Carson's breath stuttered. "God, yes!"
"Huh." He leaned down and tongued it, shifting it even more, and Carson arched against him, groaning. "I think I might be persuaded to give it a try..."
***
"What the hell was so important that you had to call me?" Rodney demanded in annoyance.
Kavanagh pointed to where Miko lay curled on the floor, apparently unconscious, something curled into her hand. "I came in to check on something and found her like that."
"So why didn't you call the infirmary?" Rodney demanded, stepping over to her and reaching down. His hand was stopped by a strange red glow.
"That's why."
***
"It's not working, McKay," the Colonel gritted.
"Think harder, Colonel."
"Rodney! It's not working."
"Okay, okay. Let me think. Kavanagh, any clue what she was working on?"
"There's nothing on her laptop that fits what we can see of the object. I'm checking the inventory to see what's missing."
Carson bent down, fingers skating over the red force field. "Miko, lass, can ye hear us? You need to think 'Off' at the object."
Miko moaned and shifted slightly.
"Let me try," Kavanagh said, walking over.
"You don't have the gene," Rodney said.
"But I do speak a little Japanese. It can't hurt to try."
In the end, they never did know whether Kavanagh got through to Miko or whether the combined efforts of John, Rodney and Carson all thinking "Off" at the device finally worked. They only knew that Miko went limp and the object rolled from her hand.
"Okay," Rodney said, "this is going in the 'Dangerous Objects' box right now."
Carson directed his team as Miko was shifted to a gurney, checking her vitals quickly. As they rolled her toward the door, Carson turned to Rodney. "I'll let you know how she is as soon as we know anything."
"Thanks, Carson. Sorry we didn't get to, uh, finish our date."
Carson grinned. "Tomorrow, maybe? I'll cook."
"Yeah. Sounds good."
***
They pressed against each other, tongues slipping into mouths, hands skating against skin. Rodney's fingers teased at Carson's nipple ring, making him gasp and moan and arch deliciously.
"I want you," Carson breathed into Rodney's ear. "Inside you."
Rodney shuddered, nodding, his hands drifting down to Carson's waistband.
"Oh, God!" Carson groaned as Rodney opened the front of his jeans and slipped his hand inside. "There's... something I should tell you..."
But it was already too late. "Shit!" Rodney exclaimed, pulling Carson's erection out of his boxers and staring at the curved metal ring that disappeared into Carson's slit. The other end peeked out from under the foreskin, which Rodney peeled back-- with a gasp from Carson-- to reveal the ring emerging on the underside, just below the head. "And here I thought you were crazy for getting a nipple piercing."
"Did I mention I was a wee bit drunk?"
"Okay, so I could see getting it, I guess," Rodney admitted. "But keeping it once you were sober?"
"Well, there was a group of us went together and got various things done. Apparently the word got out, because the next day I had a dozen people asking me to drop trou and show it off." Carson grinned mischievously.
"Oh, God, I so don't need to dwell on your misspent youth." He was staring at it in spite of himself. The nipple piercing had been a shock, but once he'd seen how responsive Carson was with it... "So, uh, does this... Does this make you more sensitive, too?"
"Very, very much so." Carson reached out and wrapped Rodney's hand around his cock. "But it's not just me that gets extra pleasure. I understand the sensation can be quite intense on the recipient's side as well."
Rodney blinked up at him. "You, uh... You have sex with it in?"
"I can. I can take it out if ye don't want to, though."
"But... Isn't there a risk of it, um... getting lost up there? Or- or... tearing or something?"
Carson chuckled. "No, love. I could tell you stories, but that would involve my misspent youth. Just trust me on it."
Rodney looked down at his hand as he slowly stroked Carson's cock, watched the metal gleam and flash as Carson's hips thrust up and down.
Carson moaned and closed his eyes. "Or we could just do this..."
If Rodney were honest with himself, Carson looked like sex incarnate. His body was sheened with a light sweat, glowing golden in the light of the candles. His lips were red and swollen from all the kissing, hair damp and mussed. The nipple ring caught the light, drawing Rodney's eye. The sight of him, sensuous and unabashedly sexual, had Rodney achingly hard and yearning. "No, I want to..." Rodney licked his lips. "I want you inside me."
Carson's eyes slitted open, a hint of a smile on his lips. "With the jewelry on?"
"Yeah. I- I think so."
Carson sighed. "Good. You'll like it. But I'm afraid we probably ought to move to the bed. It'll be more comfortable and all my supplies are in the drawer there."
Rodney nodded. They managed to disentangle themselves enough to scramble off the couch and make it into the bedroom, where they shed the last of their clothes before sitting down on the bed.
There was a brief moment of uncomfortable silence, then Carson said, "Lay on your stomach, love. I want to explore your back while I open you up."
And maybe that shouldn't have sounded as insanely hot as it did, but Rodney lost no time in complying and soon had Carson dropping kisses over the henna-like patterns. Carson's hands cupped his ass cheeks, squeezing and caressing for long moments before he finally reached across Rodney and into the side-table drawer, and then a slick finger was teasing at Rodney's opening while his tongue flicked out to trace patterns on Rodney's skin. Rodney moaned and spread his legs wider as the finger breached him.
"Mmmm... Yes, love. So warm and tight..."
Rodney pushed back, taking Carson's finger deeper. It had been far too long. "Oh, yeah! More..."
"Patience," Carson murmured into his skin and returned to licking and kissing his shoulders. His finger took Rodney in a slow rhythm, twisting and teasing before finally adding a second finger.
Rodney groaned, burying his face in Carson's pillow. Carson's scent filled his nostrils as Carson's fingers scissored him open, preparing him. Some small part of Rodney marvelled that he was here doing this with Carson.
"Ready, love?"
"Mmm. Yeah."
"Get up on all fours for me," Carson instructed.
Rodney complied while Carson tore open a condom and rolled it on.
Carson leaned down and kissed the juncture of his neck and shoulder. "I'm going to take you now," he whispered, sending a shiver of desire down Rodney's spine.
"Oh, God. Take me!"
Carson pressed against him, pushing into him, and as always there was one brief moment where Rodney felt he couldn't stand it and then Carson's cock head slid past the tight ring of muscle and it was all heat and fullness and perfection. Carson gasped, hot breath against his ear. "So good... Oh, love!"
Rodney pressed back, wanting him deeper. "Need you. Please, Carson, fuck me."
Carson groaned, arms curling under Rodney's arms to grasp his shoulders. Carson's hips bucked forward, pushing him into Rodney deep. At first, Rodney didn't feel anything different from other men he'd been with, then Carson withdrew, adjusted his angle slightly, and pushed back in. Rodney stopped breathing, stopped moving, stopped thinking, as the smooth, hard surface slid against his prostate, flashing pleasure so intense through him that all Rodney could do was tremble and groan under the assault on his senses.
"There..." Carson murmured, biting down against his shoulder and pushing into him again. The sensation was just as intense, almost agonising. "Good?"
"Nnnnn..."
"Going to take you faster and harder now," Carson whispered, voice strained and breathless.
Somewhere Rodney knew what Carson was saying, but his body only knew more and deeper and more, oh God, more and the utter surrender as Carson's thrusts picked up in speed and intensity. His body answered Carson's urgency, pushing back, straining to open himself even wider, grunts and moans and sounds of animal need emerging from his throat unchecked.
Carson's grip tightened on his shoulders, digging in deep as he pulled Rodney back onto his thrusting cock, but Rodney's focus was drawing downward and inward, to the heat of Carson deep within him and the knot of hard pleasure as it slid against his inner wall. The sensation shot heat into his cock, making it twitch with each thrust.
Carson's voice had fallen silent to be replaced by harsh breathing in his ear, gasps, and wordless cries of pleasure.
Carson went tense against him, slamming deep and letting out a loud groan as he throbbed inside Rodney's body. After the first few hard pulses he began thrusting again, short and quick, rubbing the hard nub of jewelry against Rodney's sweet spot.
Rodney gasped, his whole body drawing up tight.
"Come," Carson growled in his ear.
And Rodney did, cock throbbing as come pulsed out of him and onto the bed below. He was still jerking with the aftereffects when his arms gave out and he collapsed onto the bed. Carson followed him down, curling against him, hot and sweaty and perfect.
***
Rodney was still zoned out, mind blown, when Carson was recovered enough to dump the used condom in the bedside trash, slip out of the bed and pad to the bathroom for a washcloth. He returned to the bed and gently cleaned them up as best as he could.
"Rodney? Do ye want to move so I can change the sheets, love? Rodney?" He smiled down in exasperated affection, draped the washcloth over the edge of the trashcan, and curled around his lover.
Sometime in the middle of the night, he awoke to find Rodney slowly exploring the silver ring in his cock with light touches, eyes thoughtful.
"So was I right?" Carson asked, stretching.
Rodney smiled. "Yeah." His eyes flicked to Carson's face. "Didn't it hurt?"
Carson shrugged. "Not nearly as much as the nipple piercing, actually. Bled like the devil, though."
"So... was it worth it?"
Carson reached out and pulled Rodney back against him. "Definitely worth it."
"Huh," Rodney said, then gave a happy sigh, and curled against him. "Yeah. I suppose it was."
(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-11 02:55 pm (UTC)Well, I get used to unintelligible comments upon occasion. I've discovered that I'm quite the master of alluding to things in literature and other TV shows that I've never read/seen, for instance, so even when I understand all the words, sometimes I've got no clue what they *mean*... ;> A lot of my pornier stuff gets a lot of comments that are merely some combination of "Guh!" and "Hot!" and "I'll be in my bunk." But, hey, for a pure smut-fic, you're not expecting a detailed literary critique (actually, that would be kinda funny-- "The allegorical nature of using the term 'cock' rather than 'penis' really struck me in this passage." Sorry. Don't mind me. I'm just weird).
Oh, see, to me, Elizabeth's behaviour in "38 Minutes" was nasty toward Kavanagh right from the beginning. I mean, dude, he's pointing out a danger to the entire expedition and you go accusing him of only worrying about his own ass... WTF?! And that was my reaction right from the get-go. Yes, I realise your pet team is in that jumper, Liz, sweetie, but really, risking blowing up the entire expedition is a valid concern to take a couple of minutes to consider.
Most people don't like him because he took his opportunity of sending a video message home in "Letters from Pegasus" to report to General O'Neill on how poorly Elizabeth was handling the expedition. He'd kept track. Which gives you an idea how badly she botched that first encounter, especially considering his obvious dislike of the military. (It also makes you think he must not have had any family to send a final message to.)
Oh, and you're welcome. I'm always happy to pimp my work to someone interested... ;) Glad you liked it!
(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-11 09:42 pm (UTC)::shakes head:: That too. Although I think she might've been alluding to the fact that it's a danger from a sector he's in charge of? ::scritches head:: But yeah. She plowed over it without really considering what the others thought of it as well.
Ahaha, oh, I see! (He does dislike them?) Well, at least someone's critiquing/leaving feedback on the management of the expedition?;; (Or no one he cared about to consider more important than an evaluation report.)
*^^* ♥