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Doctor Who
Drabble: Jack

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Properties of Quicksilver

Jonathan Creek
Scratched Surface

Stargate: Atlantis
Drabble: Flying Drabble: "Hide and "Seek"
Grab Something Sweet

Grab Something Sweet

Although he prided himself on his ability to stay awake for superhuman periods when necessary, Rodney really liked his sleep. More to the point, he really didn't like to wake up, and it took him hours after waking to become fully functional. Around mid-afternoon, before he got his second wind, Rodney was pretty seriously dragging ass. Caffeine could only take a body so far, after all, especially when that body had built up the kind of tolerance Rodney's had.

Most days, if there was nothing life-threatening to keep him on his toes, Rodney liked to grab something sweet from the mess and head out to one of the balconies for a few minutes of fresh air when he started getting logy. That was where he sat now, slumped against the wall and dozing, with an empty muffin wrapper crinkled in his pocket.

He half-woke to the sound of footsteps. Still drowsy, eyes still closed, he listened as they came closer, then stopped next to him. For a moment, nothing happened, and Rodney had almost dropped off again when he felt the nudge of a booted toe against his side. "Yes? Can I help you?"

"You know, when I was in school, we would have milk and a snack, then we would lie down on these little mats for a nap."

"Oh? And what did you do after you graduated from the Academy?"

John chuckled. "Everything OK down there?"

"Yes, everything's fine, I just need a little fresh air. Oh, and to not be disturbed," Rodney groused.

John made a non-committal humming noise and stepped away from him. After a moment, Rodney peeked one eye open. John was standing at the edge of the balcony, peering up and looking around thoughtfully. "What are you doing?"

John turned and gave him the least sincere innocent look Rodney had ever seen. "Me? Nothing." He moved over to crouch beside Rodney. "I was just thinking," he continued, reaching out and slowly dragging his hand up Rodney's thigh.

When John's thumb brushed against his balls, Rodney emitted a manly whimper. "Do you, ah, have time to head back to my quarters?" he asked hopefully.

John shrugged. "I wasn't thinking about going anywhere, actually."

"Oh, well, then, that's just cruel." Rodney felt his face turn hot. He hated that he still had trouble reading John. It made him feel off-balance, not quite safe. "And you should know that when I go back to the lab and completely fail to discover the technological breakthrough that will allow us to defeat the Wraith because my thinking is clouded by sexual frustration, it'll be on your head," he snapped.

John just grinned at him.

"Oh, for -- what?"

John waggled his eyebrows, and moved his hand up to gently squeeze Rodney's growing erection.

The penny dropped. "What, here?" Rodney squeaked.

"I checked. Nobody can see." It was true; they were on one of the highest balconies in the city. "And this," John pulled a life-signs detector from his pocket, wiggling it back and forth for effect, "will beep if anybody gets nearby."

Rodney's eyes darted reflexively toward the door, then he nodded, his breath coming a little faster. "Um. OK."

"Do you want to watch the view while I, you know..." John asked mischievously, jerking his head toward the balcony railing and its truly spectacular view of the ocean. He began unfastening Rodney's pants.

Rodney snorted and lay back. "No, thank you. I prefer my orgasms without the -- oh God," as John pulled his cock free of his shorts, "crippling vertigo." There was a sound that may have been a snicker as John lowered his head and took a big lick at Rodney's cock. Then there was a sound that was definitely a moan as he took it all the way in.

Rodney reached down to take hold of John's head, but just stopped himself. Instead, he grabbed his shoulder, wrapped his fingers in John's black T-shirt and hung on, letting himself fall into the sensation of John's -- John's -- hot, wet mouth sliding over his cock.

And it was just so good and Rodney felt himself thinking at the life-signs detector, "Please, oh please, please don't beep," but then he stopped himself because he was afraid that he might accidently turn it off, and current activities notwithstanding, he didn't actually have a public sex kink and he wanted a warning before somebody wandered out here to work on their tan and found the military commander of the expedition with his head, oh, his dark head bobbing up and down in Rodney's lap -- and in the meantime John was swirling his tongue around the head of Rodney's cock and stroking with his thumb along the slick underside and as soon as Rodney stopped thinking he came in a shivering rush.

John swallowed obligingly. (Rodney had once claimed that the reason he'd worked for the United States Air Force for years, despite his natural aversion to violence, secrecy, and authoritarian power structures, was that military men always swallowed. Maybe it was a macho thing.) As Rodney waited for his breathing and heart rate to steady, John re-dressed him and stood, shaking the kinks out of his legs.

Rodney stood as well. "Your turn?" he asked in a voice that really wasn't very seductive, but nonetheless seemed to have the desired effect. John looked at him through narrowed eyes and nodded. Rodney reached for John's belt, but stopped to first graze his nails over the bulge in his pants. John gasped, and Rodney could feel his cock twitching under his fingertips. He scraped again, even more lightly. John growled and grabbed Rodney's hand, pressing it down harder against him.

Rodney got the message. He reached for John's belt again, this time unfastening the metal clasp. He didn't bother to unbutton his roomy pants, but just carefully tugged them and the boxers beneath them right down to mid-thigh. John hissed as Rodney ran a finger down the length of his cock and up again, then groaned as he bent to swipe his tongue across the tip.

Rodney turned John around to face the railing and slipped his left hand under his shirt, skimming over his abdomen and up through the hair on his chest. He pulled John back against his own chest, and reached down with his other hand. He cupped John's balls, gently playing with them, before sliding his hand up and wrapping it around John's cock. At first he just held it, letting the slow back-and-forth of John's hips provide the only motion, letting him gradually build the tension.

Soon, John became impatient and started moving his hips faster, and Rodney began to stroke him. John let out a long, shuddering breath. Rodney rested his chin on John's shoulder and looked out at the wide expanse of ocean below. From the corner of his eye he could see John's eyes drifting shut, see the light sheen of sweat that broke out as Rodney worked his cock, more firmly now. He closed his own eyes for a moment and breathed in the scent of John's arousal, listened to the tiny whuffing sounds he made as Rodney moved his hand faster, felt the warm, solid body slowly losing control in his arms.

Rodney turned his head and placed his lips against John's ear. "You and high altitudes," he murmured.

John groaned and pushed harder into Rodney's hand. "I didn't hear you complaining that time in the puddle jumper," he ground out.

"Yes, well, I seem to recall that my mouth was otherwise occupied." Either his words or the twist of his wrist as he said them made John groan again, louder this time, and tense all over. He came silently, pulsing over Rodney's hand.

Rodney tightened his arm across John's chest and John slumped into his embrace, breathing heavily and smiling a soft, contented smile. Rodney leaned his head against John's again, both of them sweaty and satisfied, and they stood there for a moment while John twitched through the aftershocks of his orgasm.

When he'd recovered himself sufficiently, John held out his hand for one of the tissues Rodney always carried around ("Hay fever," he'd explained when John had cocked an eyebrow at him the first time. "There's no ragweed in space, Rodney.") He cleaned himself up, pulled his boxers and pants back up and fastened his belt, all the while still looking out over the ocean.

Finally, he turned and faced Rodney. "So. Better than a nap?" he asked with a grin.

Rodney leaned in and kissed him. It was gentle and undemanding, just a press of lips. John's hand came up and rested on Rodney's shoulder, but he didn't deepen the kiss. After a few seconds, Rodney broke off, his face still close to John's, watching him.

John bit his lower lip and ducked his head, the way he always did when Rodney kissed him, but he kept his hand on Rodney's shoulder, gripping it a little tighter. He always did that, too. It was why Rodney hadn't given up kissing him yet.

"We should get back," Rodney murmured.

John nodded. Rodney started for the door, but stopped when he noticed John wasn't following. He turned, confused.

John was still standing there, regarding Rodney with a serious expression that made Rodney's stomach churn slightly. To cover his anxiety, he snapped, "Inside, remember? Atlantis, lost city of the Ancients, desperate war for survival against life-sucking space monsters?"

"Yeah, I remember. Um...ah, screw it." Suddenly John was right there, pressing a fast and awkward kiss to Rodney's lips. Then, before Rodney could react, he turned and walked through the door.

Rodney stared after him for a moment, shocked. Slowly, a grin spread over his face, and he headed inside with a spring in his step.

Now he was awake.