Well, isn't this bloody Fantastic!
Author: Azilver
Rating: pg 13
Fandom: SGA
Pairing: mcshep

Summary: It wasn't some Ancient device or Carson's DNA tampering but a bloody clichéd eradiated solar-wind while Atlantis's flag team were on their way to explore a moon.

Fantastic 4/SGA

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Simple. If I did, John’s dog tags would say McKay-Sheppard.

It wasn't some Ancient device or Carson's DNA tampering but a bloody clichéd eradiated solar-wind while Atlantis's flag team were on their way to explore a moon.

And what was with that anyway? Hadn't Rodney said something about the 'jumpers shields being able to block radiation? Of course, Rodney had also complained about “stupid clichés that are physically and biologically impossible, I mean, hello! Chernobyl much? Oh God! My DNA's been destroyed! My cellular structure is going to break down and I'm going to die a horrible and painful and embarrassing death, as my organs fail and I lose all muscle control!”.

John decided against informing his scientist (and valiantly ignored his inner girlish squeal at that thought) that if he was going to die, they all were, and wouldn't they have melted into icky human-goo by now? Ronon just grunted, his eyes lighting up with glee at the deeper, rockier sound cracking his knuckles made now.

Carson, bless his strange little accent, had taken one look at them and sworn for a solid ten minutes, without repetition. It might have been due to him being fluent in Gaelic as well as English. Lorne had just blinked, rapidly, while Cadman had smirked at Rodney and cooed, “Well, now you're definitely fantastic.”. Yeah, KP duty for her. Definitely.

Though, by the look on the scientists face he'd have happily roasted her on the spot, if he could only manage to grab her fast enough. It was a weird love/hate relationship. John would have gladly helped but he was a bit busy trying to, uh, reel in his arm and Teyla was sitting on his foot, or at least he thought she was 'cause that was the direction which her voice was coming from.

Some days John considered writing a tourists guide to the Pegasus Galaxy. Yeah. Welcome to the Pegasus Galaxy, where you'll be chased by albino space-vampires, fight off self-replicating (Shame.) robots with daddy issues, be kidnapped by megalomaniac World War II wannabes and your life will become a comic book.

*****

It really wasn't that surprising that it was Rodney who got control of his thing first. Or how.

Once Carson had his blood and Teyla was visible, Rodney deflamed and John proportional (Ronon was kinda stuck as he was, not that he seemed to actually care), they'd been released from the infirmary and headed for the mess. There'd been the expected reactions to Ronon's new look but it appeared that survival instincts had kicked in healthily that day.

Or so they'd thought because there was no way one of his experienced marines had just said that to McKay. Apparently his hearing was fine as the scientist's eyes had narrowed to bright blue points and the mess had gone silent. John very clearly saw the moment blue turned red (yes, alright, he'd been staring dammit!), as if Rodney's eyes had opened on the very gates of hell.

He briefly wondered if it would have been in bad taste to think it hot? Then again, he always thought the other man was hot, sexy as fuck actually. And wouldn't Rodney please do so now? In the moment it had taken for the colonel to think this the scientist had risen from his seat to face the asshole that towered over him.

“Well, not all of us have to make up for our lack of brain activity with muscle mass, do we? After all, I do have to keep the city from sinking into the ocean where, if you don't die from drowning, electrocution or explosions, you will be crushed a nanometer thick by the massive pressures of the deep in 8.73 minutes, slowly. Not to mention stopping all the imbeciles, that have somehow managed to qualify to be part of this expedition though they barely even know what an Ancient is, from screwing things up, and how hard is it really not to touch the pretty glowy thing or attach a conduit crystal thereby creating a negative feedback loop in a continual feedback system? Just because you and the rest of the over-glorified gun toting gorilla squad can point and shoot at anything that stands still long enough does not mean that any of you can tell your asses from a mass field detection device.”

No one had ever accused McKay of being subtle or scarce with words, lung capacity though.... Maybe someone should have because the next thing they new the marine had grabbed the scientists articulating arms.

But before they could even react he started turning red and then started screaming, clutching his hands in pain as he jerked back from McKay. Who stood there, rolled his shoulders and was immediately surrounded by blue-white flames. That was so cool. He looked at one arm, flexing his fingers and twisting his arm as the flames caressed rather than burned. “I'm on fire. Again.” His eyes shot up to meet the shocked gaze of the mess's occupants. “And if any of you value hot water and not crashing into the iris, you will keep all smart-Alec remarks to yourselves.”.

Actually, after his initial freak out Rodney had taken to being the Human Torch pretty easily, like gravity to a black hole. That was to say, after he'd done the screaming and descriptive declarations of his imminent death. Sheppard would have tried to help but fire tended to burn and, besides, the man was ignoring his screams of “Stop! Drop! And roll!”.

Once Rodney had realised that he was, in fact, not dieing in excruciating pain or due to inhalation of burning flesh smoke, he'd muttered something about conduits, fire hazards, never getting laid and fate being a bitch and whipping boys. He would have liked to dispel the third notion but his body had been busy imitating his pasta dinner. Ew.

*****

Since becoming the Thing, Ronon had spent most of his time 'playing' with the marines and had learned several things.

1. Rock didn't bleed but it did chip which did hurt.

2. Armor-piercing rounds can pass through rock and so can Carson's diamond-tipped scalpels.

3. Botanists are scary-obsessive and will plant seeds anywhere. Then sneak up and dump water on you. Consequently, he also discovered that he was allergic to orchids.

None of this actually bothered the now even larger Satedan but it was kind of seizure-inducing scary to have a giant brown rock-man (including rock-dreadlocks) slip knives from his 'hair', and really how was that even possible?, whilst grinning maniacally at you. They'd gotten more than a few complaints from the infirmary for Ronon to stop breaking the marines.

Of course Rodney loved to indulge in Carson's pain and spent many a break in the mess recounting the latest of the doctor's near breakdowns in his quest to find out why and how Ronon was still actually alive. “Apparently, he scared all the nurses running around collecting all the voodoo books he could find and then barricaded himself in his office. Now, he occasionally throws one of them out when he gets too frustrated or something. So far, Kellerman's had two stitches and there's a growing pile of very flammable paper in the middle of the infirmary.”

Snapping his fingers, the scientist who'd managed to gain extraordinary control of his ability sent a small flame to cook his steak to a more acceptable shade of pink. “And who is in charge of cooking the meat here? I can practically still see the blood and I can't eat it if I can taste it! That's revolting. And then you just know something will come up which only I can handle and because I couldn't eat I'll go into a hyperglycemic coma! And then where would you all be?” Yes, McKay was doing fine. He was also not stingy with his abilities and did the same for Teyla who was eying her rare steak distastefully.

“Just because you now really have rocks for brains doesn't make it any less insulting, you know!” He glared acidly at Ronon who devoured his near raw meat with gusto, grinning at his two teammates who blanched in disgust. “Though it does appear to have reverted you back to a caveman.”

John rolled his eyes and went back to his stew. Same old, same old.

*****

Teyla was taking it all in, as per usual, with an understanding nod and a declaration that they should all take time to consider their gifts. One day, John promised himself, one day he was going to find the biggest god-damned spider he could and put it in her bed or something.

Well, maybe not a spider or bug, of any sort. Rodney still wouldn't let him live down the incident with the flying stick-insect from P7X-346 and the sunscreen. Damn him, damn him and his really great-at-distracting-lovelorn-colonels ass.

Speaking of asses, he knew exactly who it was goosing most of the Atlantis expedition. Teyla had really strong fingers. His ass now sported three bruises and Rodney's (if his squawks of shock and indignation were anything to go by) eleven and counting. Of course, John would have happily volunteered to kiss all his bruises better, amongst other things.

He knew exactly how fun invisibility could have been, he'd watched the Hollowman. Then again, he would never sneak into Rodney's quarters and molest him in his sleep...maybe watch him jerk off? Please? While moaning John's name? If wishes were puddlejumpers John would be the happiest colonel in the galaxy. Maybe even two if Jackson decided to go all glowy-jellyfish again.

*****

Somewhere along the line John finds himself kinda jealous of the others powers. Being stretchy and bendy isn't nearly as cool as being able to fly while surrounded by flames that didn't burn you. And he'd gotten turned on just enough when Rodney had gone into intense lecture mode about how his control of the fire worked that he'd spent a good few minutes having to visualize Caldwell in a teddy before he could get up and leave. If that was how the man had looked and sounded when lecturing students John knew exactly why so many of them had done so badly.

It had been relatively easy to control his new abilities. Carson had told him rather bemusedly that, if he let himself bend, he may never have to worry about broken bones ever again. Which was kind of okay with him and it meant that he could do all sorts of tricks when playing sports. Though he imagined that Lorne was getting a bit peaved that his CO’s basketball team kept kicking his team's ass now.

It also provided an excellent excuse to be in the labs all day with McKay who used him as his personal slave (sadly, not the good kind). The stretching came in useful when the scientist ordered him to fetch tools and other goods from around the lab. John was able to remain exactly where he was, inevitably that was as close as he could get to the other man without being chucked out of the labs for making a nuisance of himself, whilst obtaining everything he was asked for. He'd even started bringing their lunches so he didn't have to bother leaving the labs. However, once Carson had informed them of Rodney's now incredibly fast metabolism due to his abilities use of all excess fuel, factor in his hypoglycemia and even Ronon had ganged up with Teyla and John in making sure the scientist ate a proper dinner in the mess with them.

But the truth was he didn't really appreciate his new abilities that much.

That was until they went on a mission off-world to an iceball of a planet where the people were practically stone age. It really hadn't been Rodney's fault. No, seriously! How were they to know that the people of giant icicle worshiped fire gods, believing it kept the wraith away? They lived in the ice, with little access to fire, barely using any fires for light and eating near raw food. It was really kind of gross and smelled kind of funny.

Rodney was actually being helpful when he'd offered to cook the meat they'd been given. Huddled in a single tent to conserve heat, the other three had agreed heartily. Even Ronon had looked at the grey-green protein dubiously. Not that that stopped him from licking part of it to confirm it wasn't poisonous or something. Then again, that may have forced Rodney's hypochondria to the surface and made him volunteer to near char the meat, vigorously.

Dr Rodney McKay: smartest man in the galaxy, sharpest tongue known to man, great ass, portable cooker.

The natives had seemed nice enough and, so, had taken the team by surprise. Aside from a short resistance fight John had been forced to surrender when they managed to capture Rodney. At first they had held out hope that the scientist would turn on the heat, as it were. However, their hopes were quickly dashed when he was knocked out.

They’d been dragged into one of the many cave systems the people used for shelter and locked in a solid rock chamber. Ronon tried smashing a way out but the rock and earth were frozen solid and his fists had started to chip by the time he’d barely managed to form a decent size crack in the walls. When he’d tried the bars they had too been unbreakable. John instantly missed the sounds of a highly strung scientist babbling about imminent death and super strong alloys he’d never seen before. Yeah. His longing was beginning to sound pathetic even to him.

Then a gong, or at least what sounded like one, sounded through the caverns and there was a brief moment where John mentally added “death by stalagmites/tites” to his list of possible ouchies to warn his marines about.

A procession of people chanted their way past their cell, naked and covered in some sort of body-paint. A moment in and John could tell it was exactly 2 inches cold and where had they managed to find berries when they hadn’t found anything resembling plant life, including fungus.

“They seem to believe that Rodney is a god in human form. I believe they intend to worship him.” Teyla’s words were of little comfort. Not to mention that if, when, they got out of here he was never going to hear the end of this. Rodney’s ego did not need further stroking, it was perfectly comfortable and large as it was.

Then a very familiar voice echoed past them and John felt his gut sink.

“Oh my god! You’re all naked! No! What is this? Some sort of orgy for a mentally deficient nudist colony? What do you think you’re doing? Get that stuff away from me!” A sudden wooshing sound indicated that Rodney had had enough and literally burst into flame. The awed cries and increased chanting only served to set the teams teeth on edge.

But it was Rodney’s quiet, “Oh, god.” during a brief lull in the raucous that sent shivers down John’s back.

Without thinking, he worked his way through the bars, his body stretching and twisting to pass through a space barely the width of his forearm. In seconds he had found the cell door’s release. With a short grunt Ronon handed him a knife from his hair collection and they were racing down the hallways towards the noise.

He bought them to a silent halt at the entrance to a large cavern that reached far above their heads into darkness. He could barely make out the figures halfway across the floor and that was with the added light from Rodney’s now dulling flames.

Rodney had been stripped of his clothes and had his hands and legs secured to a large rock which could only be a altar of some kind. Similar designs to those on the locals and altar rock had been painted on his body. Glassy eyes and his dissociated focus on the crowd indicated that he had been drugged into compliance. John felt the anger and disgust well up in his stomach at these people and what they had done, were doing, to his friend and the man he maybe cared about a little to much for a military officer.

The group’s leader, a middle-aged man who, on consideration, reminded John a bit too much of that barstad Kolya, given his sickly pockmarked face and the aura of danger that surrounded him, stood at McKay’s left holding a crystalline dagger of sorts. While he may as well have been speaking Swahili for all John could understand it, his intentions were clear by his erection, clearly visible to all his followers, and the hand that traced the line of the bound man’s inner thigh.

John wanted to be sick. John wanted to plunge his knife into the man’s chest, into his heart and watch his blood drain from his body.

Instead, he signaled for Ronon to cover the entrance while Teyla secured McKay. He wanted to rush in there and kill the barstads. He wanted to be the one to rip through Rodney’s bonds and bundle him back through the Stargate. But he couldn’t. It was easy enough for Teyla to move through the crowd invisibly and carefully undo the restraints. Then as the last one was released John stood up from his hiding place and attacked.

For the first time he could really appreciate the flexibility and dexterity his powers gave him. He could spread the impact of punches and send an attacker bouncing back from a blow intended to knock him down. Knives were more problematic but instinct allowed him to bend and twist, even turning his stomach concave to avoid particularly vicious knife slashes.

John’s never been so glad that the worst projectile weapons his enemy possessed were big-ass rocks and gun’s would very likely never be invented because, let’s face facts, these people were bloody idiots.

Ronon easily kept the entrance clear for Teyla to make her escape with McKay, who was drugged out of his mind. The jumper wasn’t too far and naked people had a bit of a problem with large snow banks. He would have been embarrassed for them except he wasn’t.

*****

The infirmary was quiet even given that Rodney was Carson’s only patient. For the moment. John held no illusions that one of his marines would pitch up with Ronon size bruising or one of McKay’s scientists with a Teyla style sprain sooner or later. That was just the way things worked on Atlantis. It said a lot about the expedition’s collective sanity that landing in the infirmary was considered a right of passage and that spending less than a day or night there was considered a veritable miracle, worthy of much backslapping and manly congratulations.

As it was, Rodney was sound asleep, finally, after Carson had been forced to redrug the man. And they were the good kind of sedatives. The scientist had needed them, if only to survive the expedition’s wrath.

After returning to Atlantis they had started having trouble keeping McKay settled on the way to the infirmary. He’d burst into giggles when his fist connected with a newbie marine’s nose and then complained that the poor man was bleeding all over his shiny clean city. He’d then proceeded to suggest to Dr Parrish that he could use the extractable oil from some new plant he’d discovered for other much more fun activities with the very pretty Lieutenant Evan (How did Rodney even know his 2IC’s first name? And why could he never get him to use John’s? It was just not fair.) who had a pretty nice ass, didn’t he agree? Of course, Ronon had had to make a comment about McKay’s loose-lippedness. Rodney had then proceeded to make such insinuations about things he wouldn’t mind doing to the Satedan that John nearly walked into a wall, Teyla tripped over her own feet, Morrisson turned white, Lorne veered off and walked into a door and even Ronon’s eyebrows rose to new heights as his jaw dropped to new lows.

Seems you learned something new everyday and were half those positions even possible? That was the real question. Up there with: why doesn’t Rodney make insinuations about me, him and the thermostat?

By the time they reached Carson, John was pretty sure that this was the first time, ever, he’d seen Teyla look so uncomfortable. The doctor had quickly drawn blood for analysis to the sounds of their friend’s protests about voodoo vampires, which turned into a lecture on vampire sexiness, then into who did you think was the hottest movie vampire? No problem figuring out what the drug had done, eh?

The results came quickly, “Some form of drug to increase the libido and rapidly decrease inhibitions.” “He was dosed with alien roofies?” “Yup.” and Carson quickly administered an antidote and sedative so his patient could sleep through the worst effects of the drug.

Personally, John thought it was to make sure that Rodney would survive the night. There was no telling what would happen if he was awake and one of the nurses walked in.

So it was that early the next morning, after much hounding by Carson and Elizabeth to catch some sleep too, he found himself at Rodney’s bedside. The place was still the way too quiet of the early morning, when all emergencies had been seen to and all patients were resting. Only the beeping of various monitors and the whisper of graveyard staff checking on things told him that the rest of the world was still out there, past the curtains that secluded Rodney from prying eyes.

“You’ve finally managed to scar Lorne for life, you know?” John drawled quietly. “I was really hoping to keep this second in command around. Though, he may actually be thanking you when you finally wake up, sleeping beauty. I saw him and Parrish on the way back to my room. The doc looked rather smug. Or I’ve finally lost it and started projecting that special McKay brand snark.”

When you’re really a genius it’s not being smug

Hmph. Now he really was projecting. That or he’d suddenly and inexplicably become psychic. Now wasn’t that a terrifying thought. He did not need to know what the rest of the expedition was thinking. The way Teyla looked at Ronon sometimes he really really hoped, and occasionally prayed, that that wasn’t the case. Thank god for sound proofed walls!

“You gave us a bit of a scare yesterday. Ronon couldn’t even break through those walls but I got through the bars. I guess I have my new super-stretchable self to thank for that. You… they were doing something to you and we couldn’t see what. I guess I freaked out just a bit, you know, and I just worked my way through the bars and freed the guys. Teyla was the one who snuck in and freed you but I wanted to. I shouldn’t have let them take you in the first place but ….” He stopped. His pacing coming to a halt as he relieved the night before.

“You scared me, McKay. First person to do that in a while. But that’s the problem isn’t it? I don’t let people get too close, you know? Can’t in the military, can’t out here either. Another galaxy and all that. Damned space vampires, replicators, Genii, and those are just the obvious threats. How many people haven’t we lost to virus’s, accidents, hell, Ancient technology. But you, you just had to come and make me give a damn. Guess it was kinda inevitable since we’re all in this together.”

“But that’s just it. The two of us, not to stroke your ego buddy, but we’re pretty much indispensable around here. You more so than me, don’t I know it. I’d die for you and not only because we can’t afford to lose you. That’s the kicker! I would.”

“Look, I know I’m attracted to you and I care about you and I really shouldn’t. I’d probably loose my job and be kicked out of Atlantis too. The thing is, I can’t help it. I want you, Rodney, I do and I want you to want me too. It’s weird and I’m a coward for saying all this when you can’t hear me but I need to and I guess I’m just so happy that my crappy superpower got us out of that crappy cell so we could rescue you.”

And that was the truth. He’d never quite thought about how his abilities would be useful. Slipping through small spaces, getting out of bonds, not to mention that if he trained using his new abilities the advantages he’d have against assailants.

A groan caught his attention. Facing Rodney he watched the other man’s eyes open slowly and finally focus on him.

“Hey, buddy.” Stupid! Your best friend was drugged and then redrugged and that’s all you can say? …I need a drink.

“’ey.” Well, at least he appeared okay.

“How you feeling?” Rodney took a moment to consider. “Kay. Think, ‘m head, hungova.”

John chuckled quietly, grinning at the scientists fuzzy declaration. “No surprised their, McKay. Those icelanders did a real number on you. They put you on some of the good stuff. I think you actually managed to make Teyla squirm.”

There were some days he really wished he’d brought a camera to Atlantis with him. Rodney’s brow rose and he gave John a you’re shitting me right? look. “No, seriously. You said some pretty out there things last night.” Woah! Now that was an interesting reaction. McKay looked a little worried there, if not a little curious.

“Oh, you know, the usual. Leering at marines, giving sex tips to Parrish and Lorne, propositioning Ronon,” He hesitated a moment. “feeling me up.”

Rodney stilled and John lost a bit of his humor. Maybe he’d gone a bit too far there, but, hey, a guy had to try right? At least they could blame it on the drugs.

“How ‘bout I give the Doc a call, buddy?”

*****

If there was one thing about Pegasus that John loathed above all else it was the paperwork. No, seriously, it wasn’t the wraith or the Genii or even those damned Iratus bugs! It was the damned paperwork designed with the specific intention of driving him insane. Paperwork and Rodney’s ass.

It took him hours to write each report, stretching what was barely worth a page into ten. He swore that one of these days the SGA were going to require reports on every time he took a piss off world. Probably with a sodium count.

At the moment he was trying to write up his report on the iceball planet but his mind couldn’t seem to get past their capture. And wouldn’t that just be plain embarrassing to have some chair-polishing high muckity muck reading about how they’d been taken by surprise and then locked away by a bunch of naked people with rocks.

“Shit.” He ran a hand through his hair as the Ancient version of a doorbell rang. What now? He’d barely slept the night before and had spent most of the morning hanging around the infirmary waiting to hear Carson’s prognosis on McKay’s condition. The rest of the day had been taken up with his other Chief Military Officer duties, such as training (Ronon and Teyla were the best thing to happen to him since Caldwell had agreed to bring over some exercise equipment for the gym.), organising roster sheets (Lorne was rather obviously absent that morning and had only pitched up after lunch. It did not go unnoticed by his CO that he quickly volunteered to play go-between instead of doing anything that required sitting, like desk work. Lucky barstad.) and attempting to sooth Elizabeth’s latest hissy fit over something the SGC had said or done about her performance and the state of the civilian expedition. He snickered a bit. They were just pissed off that a bunch of scientists had managed this long with very few marines and an enemy with dermal issues, when they were a military operation and relied on naked grey rat-like aliens for most of their help.

It had been a very long day and Atlantis days were much longer than Earth days.

“Come in.” With barely a thought the door slid open and Rodney stormed in. Not that that was particularly new. “McKay?”

The scientist huffed and darted a look at him, starting to snap his fingers rapidly. At first they’d all been alarmed at this new habit which the man had developed because of the small flames that jumped from his fingers at each snap, but soon realised that it was just an expression of nervous energy and that Rodney would be able to control any small spark in his vicinity.

“I wanted to apologise for the things I did and said when I was under the influence. I wasn’t exactly myself.” He shifted uncomfortably. “I’ve spoken to the others, even Bylles. I didn’t break his nose, thank god. Like I really need to piss off another marine who’ll be out for my blood. Though, I think Teyla was just amused.” The flash in the scientist’s eyes should have been warning enough when he turned to look John in the eyes. “But, see, here’s the thing: I spoke to her about all the things you said I had done. All of them.”

“Imagine my surprise when she tells me that I did not, in fact, try to molest you on the way to the infirmary.” He made a quick abortive “shut up” motion when John started to say something, anything. “I wondered about that. Then I was in bed, as per Carson’s orders, well, actually I was running through some simulations on my laptop because you know how useless those moron’s in the labs are. Can you believe that van Wyk wrote off all the anomalies in the conductors? The idiot almost blew up generator three!”

Ouch. John took back all the things he’d said about Rodney’s control-freak streak. Being a control-freak was a very good thing to be on Atlantis, especially if you were in control of dangerous technology and, apparently, even more dangerous staff. Thank god he only had to deal with marines, they weren’t exactly up to blowing up the city without the aid of a lot of C4 and orders to do so.

“Anyway, the thing is I then remembered something I heard when I was supposed to be in a drugged coma. Someone, a man buy the pitch of the voice and the turn of phrase used, which I must admit were very much like that of a teenage girl’s, admitted to having a sort of thing for me, an attraction. Now, seeing as you were the only person there when I woke up and that Carson informed me that you had been there for a few hours before, I drew the conclusion that it was you.”

Rodney was looking at him like he’d just figured out a very interesting piece of alien tech. John wasn’t really sure if he should be turned on or very, very afraid. His mind settled on the latter while his body appreciated the former. “It really was you, wasn’t it?” The other man’s looked turned to one of wonder. “You are attracted to me. You want me.”

John swallowed hard. There wasn’t much he could say to that as his rebellious body nodded his head for him. Damn his traitorous fleshy prison!

Or not.

Because those were Rodney’s lips on him and when the hell had the man gotten close enough to do that with his tongue?

John barely held in a moan as the other man’s body pressed in along the lines of his back. He was so incredibly warm, like the fire he controlled lay just beneath the skin and was burning through the colonel’s clothing.

“God, Rodney.” He could feel the scientist smile against his lips.

Rodney's lips traced hot, burning paths on his neck, sending tingles down his spine and through his cock. “Just imagine fucking me.” A burning lick along his jaw. “Stretching. Growing. Filling me completely.” God! Please! If John could have formed words he knew he'd have been begging. For his hands, his mouth, his dick. Everything Rodney.

Yes. Warm hands under his t-shirt, trailing down his belly, dipping into the front of his pants. And he'd have taken it to his grave that he was moaning like a professional whore at the other man's touch. “And when I fuck you.” He hissed as an almost too hot hand finally too hold of his dick. “I won't even have to prepare you, just lube. But maybe I will, take my time, make you moan and writhe. Beg.”

Fuck! Thick, strong fingers slid into his mouth and he sucked them as they mimicked the movements of its partner below. “Tease you, slowly, until you're begging to come.” Enough was enough and John turned in Rodney arms to finally kiss that smart mouth.

He hadn't come in his pants since he was fifteen and, screw it! It was fucking fantastic.

The End