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sga_flashfic2007-06-18 09:01 pm
daydreamer.livejournal.com) wrote in sga_flashfic2007-06-18 09:01 pm
Entry tags:
Flying Blind by domtheknight and nudaydreamer (dating challenge)
Title: Flying Blind
Authors:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
domtheknight and nudaydreamer
Pairing/rating: McKay/Sheppard, NC-17 for explicit sex
Notes: Earth AU, written for the dating challenge. Guest appearance by Samantha Carter.
(additional authors' notes at the end)
Rodney does a double take when he sees the attractive dark-haired man in the corner. He checks his watch - 7:28 - and takes a step toward the dimly lit table. His sexual preference (or rather, the lack thereof) has never been a secret from Sam, but he didn't expect her to actually set him up with a guy. He probably should have been paying more attention to the details of this little arrangement, like maybe his date's name.
Another look at the table confirms it, though: no one actually reads War and Peace. This has to be his blind date.
The guy looks up as he approaches, seeming a bit surprised when Rodney stops in front of his table. Maybe Rodney isn't exactly what his date had in mind, either.
"This seat taken?" he asks, gesturing to the chair. As first lines go, even he knows it's pretty lame, but meeting on a blind date presupposes a certain amount of lameness.
Luckily his mystery guy doesn't seem taken aback. "Be my guest," he says, inclining his head.
"Thank you." Rodney stretches out a hand. "Rodney McKay. Dr. Rodney McKay. Well, actually, it's Dr. Meredith Rodney McKay, but, um, Rodney is fine."
Mystery Hottie's eyebrows head for the ceiling. "You're Meredith McKay," he says incredulously.
Rodney has a second of confusion - maybe this guy isn't his date after all? Was he waiting for Rodney to introduce his curvaceous, blond sister?
But the next thing he knows, he's looking into a wide, sensual grin, and there's a strong hand clasping his. "John," the guy says. "John Sheppard."
~
Rodney manages to get himself seated and order a nonfat cinnamon dolce latte without too much trouble. He and John exchange the usual laundry list of pleasantries. It turns out that John is in aerospace engineering, which is probably how he knows Sam, although he's surprisingly silent on that point. Maybe not so surprising - Sam hasn't been particularly forthcoming on how the cutting edge work she was doing when they were in grad school together has translated into a career in deep space telemetry. If his life had taken a different turn, Rodney might have been doing classified government research, too, instead of writing wildly popular loosely-plot-driven science fiction novels with very accurate physics and explicit, improbable sex scenes. Colonel Flanigan and the Space Zombies from Xllshaaa isn't going to end world hunger, but it's already sold five million copies. Rodney decided a long time ago that since he would never be able to save the planet, he might as well make existence a little more bearable for everyone who's stuck here.
Besides, the pay is amazing, and since he refuses to do book tours, he has plenty of time to travel, keep up with the latest developments in his field, and tinker around with the equipment he seems to keep collecting in his basement. He explains all of this to John over his original latte, a second (half-caf), a slice of raspberry swirl pound cake with cream cheese frosting, and a series of crumpled paper napkins on which he sketches out the plot of his upcoming novel, How the Love Slaves from XX-99694434-B Set Dr. Hewlett's Weapon to Stun.
John admits a passing familiarity with his work, which is just about the highest praise Rodney has ever gotten from a man over the age of 16. It turns out that his taste runs more toward football and the kind of science fiction that's heavier on the fiction. "Seriously, a Delorian?" Rodney groans, but the grin John shoots back is so wickedly sexy that Rodney glances around to make sure no one has a camera phone. He'd rather his next published work wasn't Famous Author Meredith McKay and the Complete Inability to Control an Erection in a Public Place.
Eventually, Rodney notices that the coffee house has cleared out, and the few lonely baristas are giving them the evil eye. He and John set their empty cups on the bar apologetically and head for the door.
Outside, a breeze whips through the hot night air, and Rodney jams his hands in the pockets of his coat. John has stowed his book in a ratty knapsack and pulled out a motorcycle helmet. Rodney wonders what the etiquette here is - obviously he has access to John's number through Sam, but is that cheating? Is he supposed to ask directly? Should he offer his own? Should he... maybe he can 'accidentally' end up with John's cell phone, and then one of them will have to-
"Rodney," John says, suddenly close. "I don't know if you have a car or whatever, but I rode my bike here, and I could give you a ride back in the morning, if-"
"Yes," Rodney says before he does something stupid like turn down... whatever it is that John just offered him. Two minutes later he's wearing John's spare helmet, pressed up against his back, heartbeat going double time to a duet between brain damage brain damage brain damage and John John John.
~
Rodney gets off the motorcycle on wobbly legs, partly relief at the feel of solid ground, and partly desire from having John's ass snuggled between his legs. The vibrations of the engine hadn't exactly helped.
John waves him inside, turning on the lights and flipping locks on the door. "You want anything?" he asks, standing close.
"No," Rodney manages, his tongue feeling thick inside his mouth. He can't really say 'yes, sex, right now' out loud.
"Okay," John says, standing closer.
"Um, so, maybe," Rodney starts, just as John says "well, we could..."
"You first," Rodney says, because this is just way too awkward.
John hesitates for a second, then mutters, "what the hell," and slides a hand around the back of Rodney's neck, pulling him in and kissing him. Rodney is vaguely horrified at the way he just melts into John, all hot lips and hotter tongue, soft kisses and quick sharp teeth, but he gets over it fast when John slides a hand down and gropes his ass.
"Wanna fuck you," Rodney mumbles, and feels John tense against him. "Um, if you, if that's okay, if you do that," he adds, because John's eyes are dark with either anger or hunger, and he's not sure which. "If not, then, something else, anything would be fine," he babbles.
"Yeah, Rodney," John says, lazy now, hands moving to pull Rodney's shirt off. "I do that." He pulls Rodney in for more kissing, slow and lush kisses that make Rodney's head spin, make him lean heavily against John, pressing his erection into his hip. John's hands are all over, caressing Rodney's back and stomach and moving up to touch his chest, rubbing his thumbs over his nipples.
Rodney moans and presses closer. "Bed?" he asks.
"Yeah," John says, pulling him down the hall.
Rodney pulls John's clothes off and pushes him onto the bed, kneeling and wrapping his fingers, then his mouth, around John's cock. It's nice, normal-sized, and Rodney slides down as far as he can before pulling back a bit. John pushes a little bottle of lube into his hand, then helpfully spreads his legs, so Rodney slicks up his fingers and slides one, then two, inside, crooking them to feel for his prostate.
John pulls on Rodney's hair, hard, and Rodney slides his mouth off his dick. "Ow, that hurt!" he says, frowning.
"Rodney," John says. "Fuck me already."
Rodney slides his fingers out of John's ass, a little bit regretfully, and turns to get a condom. When he comes back, John is up on his hands and knees, and Rodney is momentarily stunned. John's back is arched gracefully, his ass stuck out just a bit, and Rodney has to stare at the slope of his shoulders, the unexpected roundness of his thighs, the way he has an ass at all - standing up, he's muscled but skinny.
Then John wiggles his ass at him, just a little bit, and the mood is broken. Rodney climbs onto the bed again and reaches for the lube to slick up his cock.
"Rodney," John whines, so Rodney kneels up behind him, puts a hand on John's hip to steady him, and pushes in, in, in. John is hot and tight around him, and Rodney has to stop for a minute to gather his control and catch his breath before starting to move.
Rodney can feel his orgasm approaching rapidly, so he reaches around and grabs John's cock. John moans and gasps and tightens around him, and Rodney shouts when he comes, finishing John off with several short strokes.
Some time later John mumbles and shifts beneath him, and Rodney pries himself off John, apologizing when he winces, and throws out the condom, stopping to grab a couple paper towels so John can clean himself off.
"Do you, uh," Rodney says, not sure at all how to ask if John's still offering the ride, if Rodney can sleep in his bed, if this might be something more than what it appears to be.
"You have to be somewhere in the morning?" John asks, not meeting his eyes.
"No, that's the beauty of writing - I can start whenever I want," Rodney says.
"Then come sleep," John says, patting the edge of the bed next to him. Rodney feels an odd kind of relief in his chest, and he gets back into the bed and lets John curl up behind him, wrapping an arm around his waist.
~
There's a buzzing in his ear, and Rodney wakes slowly, disoriented - he's wrapped around another person, a man, and the air is cool but their skin is hot pressed together, sweat-slick in a way that should be gross and is instead just right.
"Answer it," John mumbles, his chest moving under Rodney's head.
Rodney reaches for the phone, scrambling to pull it out of his pants pocket without falling out of the bed. "Yes, hello, what," he says, and is only half surprised to hear Sam.
"Rodney," she says. "Last night? What happened?"
"Oh, it was fantastic, I'm still at his house, but I can call you back, if-"
"Whose house?" Sam asks.
"John's house," Rodney says, starting to get confused. She doesn't sound happy, but he doesn't think he did anything wrong this time - he went to the coffee shop, he met the guy...
"You ditched Katie Brown for a guy?"
"Who's Katie Brown?" Rodney asks. John is stretching, and it's distracting, with all his lean shifting muscles and his bare skin brushing against Rodney, and he can't stop staring, thinking John.
"Katie Brown... the children's book author... Rodney, I set up this date weeks ago. Please tell me you didn't forget."
Rodney is on the brink of telling Sam that the deep space radiation must be getting to her, but then last night's events begin to replay themselves with new clarity. "Sam," he says, reaching for John's hand, which is beginning a slow exploration of his inner thigh, "I'll have to call you back."
He ignores her indignant squawk and turns to John, who is making a deliciously pouty face and trying to twist his hand free. "Hi," Rodney says. "So, were you on a blind date last night?"
John has resumed his mission with his other hand, seemingly oblivious to Rodney's distress. "No... I was at the coffee place with you."
Rodney rolls onto his back, breathing heavily. "You weren't... Sam Carter didn't set you up on a blind date with me."
"Who's Sam Carter?" John, taking full advantage of the easier access this position affords, strokes a finger gently behind Rodney's balls and reaches across his body with the other hand to retrieve the lube. "And why is he calling you so early?"
"But you - you let me sit down! And you recognized my name, and - and you were reading War and Peace!"
John does the eyebrow raise that Rodney remembers so well from the previous night, then sets the lube back onto the bedside table. He rummages in his discarded knapsack for a minute, then tosses a book onto the bed.
The dust jacket slips halfway off. Rodney recognizes the Atlantis Press, Ltd logo immediately, and Colonel Flanigan's familiar profile peeks out at him from behind the dull blue War and Peace cover. He should probably say something to John, but all he can do is let his head fall back and laugh until his side hurts.
"I was kinda hoping you'd be flattered," John says when the laughter finally dies down, hands on his hips in what might be an intimidating pose if he weren't naked. "Mind explaining what's so funny?"
Rodney grins and pulls him back down onto the bed. "I'll tell you later."
~
Authors' Notes: Here is the conversation we had about writing this story, for your edutainment.
domtheknight: MISTAKEN IDENTITY!
domtheknight: my favorite kind of romance
nudaydreamer: WHERES?
domtheknight: book book
domtheknight: like physical book
domtheknight: unfortunately, not mcshep
domtheknight: let's write one
nudaydreamer: Okay, blind date.
nudaydreamer: One of them shows up and somehow thinks the other one is his date.
domtheknight : sure
domtheknight : only isn't, right
nudaydreamer: There is teh hot sex.
domtheknight : yays teh sex
domtheknight : are we team-writing this?
nudaydreamer: ummm we could try.
Authors:
domtheknight and nudaydreamerPairing/rating: McKay/Sheppard, NC-17 for explicit sex
Notes: Earth AU, written for the dating challenge. Guest appearance by Samantha Carter.
(additional authors' notes at the end)
Rodney does a double take when he sees the attractive dark-haired man in the corner. He checks his watch - 7:28 - and takes a step toward the dimly lit table. His sexual preference (or rather, the lack thereof) has never been a secret from Sam, but he didn't expect her to actually set him up with a guy. He probably should have been paying more attention to the details of this little arrangement, like maybe his date's name.
Another look at the table confirms it, though: no one actually reads War and Peace. This has to be his blind date.
The guy looks up as he approaches, seeming a bit surprised when Rodney stops in front of his table. Maybe Rodney isn't exactly what his date had in mind, either.
"This seat taken?" he asks, gesturing to the chair. As first lines go, even he knows it's pretty lame, but meeting on a blind date presupposes a certain amount of lameness.
Luckily his mystery guy doesn't seem taken aback. "Be my guest," he says, inclining his head.
"Thank you." Rodney stretches out a hand. "Rodney McKay. Dr. Rodney McKay. Well, actually, it's Dr. Meredith Rodney McKay, but, um, Rodney is fine."
Mystery Hottie's eyebrows head for the ceiling. "You're Meredith McKay," he says incredulously.
Rodney has a second of confusion - maybe this guy isn't his date after all? Was he waiting for Rodney to introduce his curvaceous, blond sister?
But the next thing he knows, he's looking into a wide, sensual grin, and there's a strong hand clasping his. "John," the guy says. "John Sheppard."
~
Rodney manages to get himself seated and order a nonfat cinnamon dolce latte without too much trouble. He and John exchange the usual laundry list of pleasantries. It turns out that John is in aerospace engineering, which is probably how he knows Sam, although he's surprisingly silent on that point. Maybe not so surprising - Sam hasn't been particularly forthcoming on how the cutting edge work she was doing when they were in grad school together has translated into a career in deep space telemetry. If his life had taken a different turn, Rodney might have been doing classified government research, too, instead of writing wildly popular loosely-plot-driven science fiction novels with very accurate physics and explicit, improbable sex scenes. Colonel Flanigan and the Space Zombies from Xllshaaa isn't going to end world hunger, but it's already sold five million copies. Rodney decided a long time ago that since he would never be able to save the planet, he might as well make existence a little more bearable for everyone who's stuck here.
Besides, the pay is amazing, and since he refuses to do book tours, he has plenty of time to travel, keep up with the latest developments in his field, and tinker around with the equipment he seems to keep collecting in his basement. He explains all of this to John over his original latte, a second (half-caf), a slice of raspberry swirl pound cake with cream cheese frosting, and a series of crumpled paper napkins on which he sketches out the plot of his upcoming novel, How the Love Slaves from XX-99694434-B Set Dr. Hewlett's Weapon to Stun.
John admits a passing familiarity with his work, which is just about the highest praise Rodney has ever gotten from a man over the age of 16. It turns out that his taste runs more toward football and the kind of science fiction that's heavier on the fiction. "Seriously, a Delorian?" Rodney groans, but the grin John shoots back is so wickedly sexy that Rodney glances around to make sure no one has a camera phone. He'd rather his next published work wasn't Famous Author Meredith McKay and the Complete Inability to Control an Erection in a Public Place.
Eventually, Rodney notices that the coffee house has cleared out, and the few lonely baristas are giving them the evil eye. He and John set their empty cups on the bar apologetically and head for the door.
Outside, a breeze whips through the hot night air, and Rodney jams his hands in the pockets of his coat. John has stowed his book in a ratty knapsack and pulled out a motorcycle helmet. Rodney wonders what the etiquette here is - obviously he has access to John's number through Sam, but is that cheating? Is he supposed to ask directly? Should he offer his own? Should he... maybe he can 'accidentally' end up with John's cell phone, and then one of them will have to-
"Rodney," John says, suddenly close. "I don't know if you have a car or whatever, but I rode my bike here, and I could give you a ride back in the morning, if-"
"Yes," Rodney says before he does something stupid like turn down... whatever it is that John just offered him. Two minutes later he's wearing John's spare helmet, pressed up against his back, heartbeat going double time to a duet between brain damage brain damage brain damage and John John John.
~
Rodney gets off the motorcycle on wobbly legs, partly relief at the feel of solid ground, and partly desire from having John's ass snuggled between his legs. The vibrations of the engine hadn't exactly helped.
John waves him inside, turning on the lights and flipping locks on the door. "You want anything?" he asks, standing close.
"No," Rodney manages, his tongue feeling thick inside his mouth. He can't really say 'yes, sex, right now' out loud.
"Okay," John says, standing closer.
"Um, so, maybe," Rodney starts, just as John says "well, we could..."
"You first," Rodney says, because this is just way too awkward.
John hesitates for a second, then mutters, "what the hell," and slides a hand around the back of Rodney's neck, pulling him in and kissing him. Rodney is vaguely horrified at the way he just melts into John, all hot lips and hotter tongue, soft kisses and quick sharp teeth, but he gets over it fast when John slides a hand down and gropes his ass.
"Wanna fuck you," Rodney mumbles, and feels John tense against him. "Um, if you, if that's okay, if you do that," he adds, because John's eyes are dark with either anger or hunger, and he's not sure which. "If not, then, something else, anything would be fine," he babbles.
"Yeah, Rodney," John says, lazy now, hands moving to pull Rodney's shirt off. "I do that." He pulls Rodney in for more kissing, slow and lush kisses that make Rodney's head spin, make him lean heavily against John, pressing his erection into his hip. John's hands are all over, caressing Rodney's back and stomach and moving up to touch his chest, rubbing his thumbs over his nipples.
Rodney moans and presses closer. "Bed?" he asks.
"Yeah," John says, pulling him down the hall.
Rodney pulls John's clothes off and pushes him onto the bed, kneeling and wrapping his fingers, then his mouth, around John's cock. It's nice, normal-sized, and Rodney slides down as far as he can before pulling back a bit. John pushes a little bottle of lube into his hand, then helpfully spreads his legs, so Rodney slicks up his fingers and slides one, then two, inside, crooking them to feel for his prostate.
John pulls on Rodney's hair, hard, and Rodney slides his mouth off his dick. "Ow, that hurt!" he says, frowning.
"Rodney," John says. "Fuck me already."
Rodney slides his fingers out of John's ass, a little bit regretfully, and turns to get a condom. When he comes back, John is up on his hands and knees, and Rodney is momentarily stunned. John's back is arched gracefully, his ass stuck out just a bit, and Rodney has to stare at the slope of his shoulders, the unexpected roundness of his thighs, the way he has an ass at all - standing up, he's muscled but skinny.
Then John wiggles his ass at him, just a little bit, and the mood is broken. Rodney climbs onto the bed again and reaches for the lube to slick up his cock.
"Rodney," John whines, so Rodney kneels up behind him, puts a hand on John's hip to steady him, and pushes in, in, in. John is hot and tight around him, and Rodney has to stop for a minute to gather his control and catch his breath before starting to move.
Rodney can feel his orgasm approaching rapidly, so he reaches around and grabs John's cock. John moans and gasps and tightens around him, and Rodney shouts when he comes, finishing John off with several short strokes.
Some time later John mumbles and shifts beneath him, and Rodney pries himself off John, apologizing when he winces, and throws out the condom, stopping to grab a couple paper towels so John can clean himself off.
"Do you, uh," Rodney says, not sure at all how to ask if John's still offering the ride, if Rodney can sleep in his bed, if this might be something more than what it appears to be.
"You have to be somewhere in the morning?" John asks, not meeting his eyes.
"No, that's the beauty of writing - I can start whenever I want," Rodney says.
"Then come sleep," John says, patting the edge of the bed next to him. Rodney feels an odd kind of relief in his chest, and he gets back into the bed and lets John curl up behind him, wrapping an arm around his waist.
~
There's a buzzing in his ear, and Rodney wakes slowly, disoriented - he's wrapped around another person, a man, and the air is cool but their skin is hot pressed together, sweat-slick in a way that should be gross and is instead just right.
"Answer it," John mumbles, his chest moving under Rodney's head.
Rodney reaches for the phone, scrambling to pull it out of his pants pocket without falling out of the bed. "Yes, hello, what," he says, and is only half surprised to hear Sam.
"Rodney," she says. "Last night? What happened?"
"Oh, it was fantastic, I'm still at his house, but I can call you back, if-"
"Whose house?" Sam asks.
"John's house," Rodney says, starting to get confused. She doesn't sound happy, but he doesn't think he did anything wrong this time - he went to the coffee shop, he met the guy...
"You ditched Katie Brown for a guy?"
"Who's Katie Brown?" Rodney asks. John is stretching, and it's distracting, with all his lean shifting muscles and his bare skin brushing against Rodney, and he can't stop staring, thinking John.
"Katie Brown... the children's book author... Rodney, I set up this date weeks ago. Please tell me you didn't forget."
Rodney is on the brink of telling Sam that the deep space radiation must be getting to her, but then last night's events begin to replay themselves with new clarity. "Sam," he says, reaching for John's hand, which is beginning a slow exploration of his inner thigh, "I'll have to call you back."
He ignores her indignant squawk and turns to John, who is making a deliciously pouty face and trying to twist his hand free. "Hi," Rodney says. "So, were you on a blind date last night?"
John has resumed his mission with his other hand, seemingly oblivious to Rodney's distress. "No... I was at the coffee place with you."
Rodney rolls onto his back, breathing heavily. "You weren't... Sam Carter didn't set you up on a blind date with me."
"Who's Sam Carter?" John, taking full advantage of the easier access this position affords, strokes a finger gently behind Rodney's balls and reaches across his body with the other hand to retrieve the lube. "And why is he calling you so early?"
"But you - you let me sit down! And you recognized my name, and - and you were reading War and Peace!"
John does the eyebrow raise that Rodney remembers so well from the previous night, then sets the lube back onto the bedside table. He rummages in his discarded knapsack for a minute, then tosses a book onto the bed.
The dust jacket slips halfway off. Rodney recognizes the Atlantis Press, Ltd logo immediately, and Colonel Flanigan's familiar profile peeks out at him from behind the dull blue War and Peace cover. He should probably say something to John, but all he can do is let his head fall back and laugh until his side hurts.
"I was kinda hoping you'd be flattered," John says when the laughter finally dies down, hands on his hips in what might be an intimidating pose if he weren't naked. "Mind explaining what's so funny?"
Rodney grins and pulls him back down onto the bed. "I'll tell you later."
~
Authors' Notes: Here is the conversation we had about writing this story, for your edutainment.
domtheknight: MISTAKEN IDENTITY!domtheknight: my favorite kind of romancenudaydreamer: WHERES?domtheknight: book bookdomtheknight: like physical bookdomtheknight: unfortunately, not mcshepdomtheknight: let's write onenudaydreamer: Okay, blind date.nudaydreamer: One of them shows up and somehow thinks the other one is his date.domtheknight : suredomtheknight : only isn't, rightnudaydreamer: There is teh hot sex.domtheknight : yays teh sexdomtheknight : are we team-writing this?nudaydreamer: ummm we could try.
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