sga_flashfic | The (Almost But Not Quite) Non-existent Hotness of Rodney McKay by Zinnith (F*cking Freezing)

Title: The (Almost But Not Quite) Non-existent Hotness of Rodney McKay
Author: Zinnith
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Porn with no redeeming value whatsoever. Also, ice cubes. And I should probably warn for my sense of humour as well.
Word count: 1825
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: In which John completely fails to break up with Rodney. It's all his dick's fault, really.

Notes: This story just begged to be written. Thank you

the_cephalopod for looking it over for me and cheering me on!

John has no idea why this keeps happening. As a matter of fact, he has no idea how McKay managed to talk him into having sex in the first place. It seemed like a good idea at the time, just after the siege when they were both crashing from adrenaline and uppers. John had been burning with the need to prove to himself that he was still alive, and Rodney’s lips had felt like the answer to everything.

John clearly remembers freaking out the next morning when it dawned on him that Rodney expected it to become a regular event. It is quite possible that he’s been freaking out ever since. The bouts of freaking out, however, are interspersed with extremely good sex, so he’s not actually complaining.

But no matter how good it is, it doesn’t change the fact that having sex with your CSO is an exceptionally bad idea. John has compiled a long list of reasons why, and DADT isn’t anywhere near the top.

So, they really shouldn’t be doing this and John doesn’t have a clue why he keeps ending up in McKay’s bed. It’s not like Rodney is even hot. He’s a rude, obnoxious geek. He’s out of shape, he’s losing his hair; it’s hard to find anything attractive about him. Except for those flaily things he does with his hands, of course. And the way his shirt stretches over that broad back. And the lopsided smile. And the way his eyes go all bright with excitement over new Ancient tech. And, well... maybe there are a few things. But John tries not to think about them too much. Because it’s a bad idea.

In any case, this is it. This is where he puts his foot down and tells McKay that they’re going to end this. Atlantis isn’t cut off from Earth any longer and John has his career to think about. If the SGC finds out about him and Rodney, it’ll be goodbye Air Force, goodbye Atlantis (goodbye Rodney) and that’s not an option.

Consequently John is spending time he really should be putting to better use improving the trade relations with the natives of P5X-555 (otherwise known as the Very Wet Planet of Rainy Doom) trying to figure out a good way to break this to Rodney. He probably would be having more success if they hadn’t been caught in a sudden downpour a little earlier, an event which had led to one extremely sodden scientist. And now, Rodney is grumbling and digging in his pack for a spare shirt, whilst struggling out of his wet one, and John can’t tear his eyes away from Rodney’s hard, pink nipples.

The nipples are another thing about Rodney that John might possibly find a tiny little bit attractive (only not at all, because he’s not supposed to be thinking about the attractiveness of Rodney McKay, damnit!)

This would be much easier if John could get his dick to grasp the concept of Bad Idea. Unfortunately, John’s dick is more interested in the concept of blowjobs.

“Are you not feeling well, Colonel?” Teyla asks. John can feel the tips of his ears go red.

“I’m fine,” he assures her. It’s possible that his voice might sound a little strangled. Why can’t McKay hurry up and put the damn shirt on, for christ’s sake?

Teyla gives him an incredulous look, but doesn’t press the issue, something for which John is immensely grateful. He begins to make plans for sneaking her an extra pudding cup at dinner.

“I don’t know,” Ronon says. “He looks constipated to me.”

Okay, no extra pudding for Ronon. But at least Rodney is finally dressed again and... oh, god, his nipples are poking through the fabric of the shirt and John is going to sit down and have a serious talk with his dick because there is a time and a place and this is not it.

“We had this root back on Sateda,” Ronon continues. “It’d clean you right out. Made your farts stink real bad though.”

“Okay kids, I think it’s time to get back home,” John says. They’re actually not due back for another two hours, but listening to Ronon talk about Satedan laxatives is not how John wants to spend this afternoon.

Also, Rodney needs to take his nipples back to Atlantis and into a hot shower, because that can’t be healthy.

So they say goodbye to the natives and make plans to come back again when the rainy season is over, and John makes sure that Rodney is walking behind him as they head back to the gate (because Rodney’s ass is another one of the things John doesn’t find attractive at all). Ronon seems to be stuck on the subject of flatulence and Teyla keeps rolling her eyes and sighing deeply.

Once back in Atlantis, after the post-mission check up, Rodney asks “Are we on for chess tonight, Colonel? I have some new moves I would like to try out.”

John nods, thinking that it will be a good opportunity to convince Rodney of the badness of the two of them continuing to ‘play chess’.

Rodney’s eyes light up the same way they do over the prospect of cool new Ancient toys to play with. He smiles that slanted not-hot-at-all smile, grabs his PDA and leaves the infirmary.

“Down, boy,” John tells his dick. It refuses to follow orders. He needs to get it trained better. If you can teach dogs not to chase cars, you should be able to teach your penis not to chase astrophysicists.

He has dinner with Teyla and Ronon, gets Teyla two extra pudding cups and Ronon none, because Ronon still won’t let the constipation thing go. Then John goes back to his quarters to shower and shave before heading over to Rodney’s.

When he gets there, Rodney is already naked. John steps inside, scratching his neck. He has no idea how to do this.

“Listen, Rodney,” he begins. “I’ve been thinking...” Then he notices something on the bedside table. A tall plastic mug covered with condensation. “Um. Is that ice?”

“I have extremely sensitive nipples,” Rodney explains with a smug little grin. “Sometimes I can come just from having them played with. From the way you were watching me on the planet, I thought you might want to give it a try. All in the interest of science, of course.”

Of course. So, this is where John is supposed to say what he was going to say and then get out. He should not be thinking about Rodney’s nipples and ice and Rodney coming, warm and wet, all over himself.

“Nuh”, he says, and then, “Nnghh.” Then he figures he should maybe try for something a little bit more verbal so he adds, “Oh, what the hell,” pulls his shirt over his head and opens his fly to give his dick a little more room.

John’s dick is a traitor. An evil, evil traitor.

Rodney steps back and lies down on the bed, reaching out for the cup and pulling out a glistening wet ice cube. He gives John an impatient look. “What are you waiting for? Get undressed and come over here, or the ice’ll melt before we get the chance to have any fun with it.”

It’s not like John has to be told twice. He quickly ditches his pants and underwear and heads over to the bed. Rodney pops the ice cube into his mouth and then sucks on his fingers for a while before he starts teasing his own nipples. They immediately harden into tight little nubs. Rodney closes his eyes and moans, and when he opens them again, he’s looking straight at John.

“Come here and kiss me,” he says, and John is only too happy to comply.

He can feel the ice melting in Rodney’s mouth, a tantalising mix of hot and cold, and John can’t hold back a moan of his own. He’s rock hard against Rodney’s thigh, and Rodney’s cock is rubbing against his stomach, leaving streaks of wetness. Rodney reaches for the cup again, pulls out another piece of ice and runs it over his chest. It melts from his body heat, leaves droplets of water running over his skin and John gives up on trying to convince himself that Rodney McKay isn’t attractive.

“Feel free to, you know, join in,” Rodney says, panting a little and shuddering as he rolls the half-melted cube over his stomach, letting the water pool in his belly button.

The ice is so cold it’s burning when John picks it up. It’s slick and wet and Rodney gasps at the touch. John runs the ice cube over Rodney’s left nipple and then bends down to nip and suck at the right one, laving it with his tongue.

“Yessss,” Rodney hisses. “You’re ...oh god, a natural. Just like that, just...a little bit more, John, please...” and then his back arches off the bed and he spurts all over himself.

John can’t help it, he has to lean in and taste, lick the come mixed with the melted ice from Rodney’s stomach. His left nipple is red with cold and John feels the need to warm it with his mouth so that’s what he does.

“God, that was amazing,” Rodney says when he’s caught his breath. “My turn now. I’m going to make you feel so good.”

And then John is the one on his back, watching Rodney reach for another ice cube and he can feel himself tense up in anticipation. Rodney always keeps his promises, especially when it comes to making John feel good.

John’s dick has been thinking about blowjobs all day, and when it finally comes, Rodney’s mouth is hot, gentle suction that chases away all thoughts except for Yes and Please and Rodneyrodneyrodney. He won’t last, not after watching Rodney come like that, but John wants to hold on for as long as humanly possible, doesn’t want this to end just yet.

Then Rodney does that wicked thing with his tongue and his teeth, at the same time as he gently nudges John’s legs apart, reaches for his hole, and John draws in a deep breath because he knows what’s coming. Rodney’s finger inside him, rubbing his prostate, and he’s going to go off like a rocket.

But he didn’t expect to feel the burning cold of the ice cube against his entrance, hard and wet, not pressing inside but just teasing around his hole. The shock of sensation that floods through him makes his hips stutter and jerk as he empties himself down Rodney’s throat.

It takes him a moment to come down afterwards. John rolls over and rests his head on Rodney’s chest, feels Rodney’s fingers comb through his hair and decides that this might not be such a bad idea after all.

At the court-martial, he can always blame his dick.

- fin -

Current Mood: naughty

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From:

mellyna.livejournal.com

Adorable. Poor John, just can't say no can he. Thanks for sharing.

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