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fiercelydreamedI'm out of town or I would've pimped this sooner. One of the reasons I was so gleeful when we finally sucked ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
shaenie into this fandom was that she writes kink like nobody else writes kink, and now you can all see what I mean: Unsuffer Me, SGA, McKay/Sheppard, words cannot properly express the explicit.
John's alarm ratcheted up another notch, and he jerked his hand out from behind Rodney, leaving the first couple of layers of skin over his knuckles on the stone. He caught Rodney's shoulders in both hands and looked at him. Rodney was shivering still, almost shuddering under John's hands. "You're okay, Rodney," John insisted, baffled and unnerved. "Jesus, calm down. You're okay."
"John," Rodney said, low and hoarse, and Rodney's laugh was still sharp and almost painful sounding, but was at least marginally less freaky than the last one. John tightened his hands on Rodney's biceps to steady himself, or maybe to steady Rodney; he wasn't sure. Rodney sighed, eyelids fluttering. "I'm not okay," he whispered.
Then he did something that John was sure he'd remember in minute detail for the rest of his life.
He relaxed, all at once, tension bleeding out of his limbs in a rush, the bunched muscles of his biceps going lax and easy under John's hands. He melted bonelessly against the stone behind him, head tipped back at an angle against the top corner of the altar, lips slick and wet and open, eyes closed, letting John's hands on his arms keep him upright, and he moved, no, he writhed gently, full-body, a sort of sinuous not-resistance against the ropes that bound his upper arms to his chest, his thighs together, John's hands.
John couldn't think how to describe it, even inside his own head, but it was unmistakable, it was. God, it was insane, and John's mouth was suddenly dry, his hands were shaking, and his cock, already semi-alert just from kissing Rodney, was abruptly and fiercely erect. "Jesus, Rodney?" he heard himself say, almost groan, though it sounded impossibly distant through the rushing white-noise echoing around in the interior of his skull. It sounded like a question, but John honestly had no idea if that's what it was, or what the question could even be.
Rodney's eyes opened slowly, and the light wasn't the best, but his eyes looked way too dark, and each of them held the tiny, purplish reflection of the moon.
What, you're still here? Go!
shaenie into this fandom was that she writes kink like nobody else writes kink, and now you can all see what I mean: Unsuffer Me, SGA, McKay/Sheppard, words cannot properly express the explicit. John's alarm ratcheted up another notch, and he jerked his hand out from behind Rodney, leaving the first couple of layers of skin over his knuckles on the stone. He caught Rodney's shoulders in both hands and looked at him. Rodney was shivering still, almost shuddering under John's hands. "You're okay, Rodney," John insisted, baffled and unnerved. "Jesus, calm down. You're okay."
"John," Rodney said, low and hoarse, and Rodney's laugh was still sharp and almost painful sounding, but was at least marginally less freaky than the last one. John tightened his hands on Rodney's biceps to steady himself, or maybe to steady Rodney; he wasn't sure. Rodney sighed, eyelids fluttering. "I'm not okay," he whispered.
Then he did something that John was sure he'd remember in minute detail for the rest of his life.
He relaxed, all at once, tension bleeding out of his limbs in a rush, the bunched muscles of his biceps going lax and easy under John's hands. He melted bonelessly against the stone behind him, head tipped back at an angle against the top corner of the altar, lips slick and wet and open, eyes closed, letting John's hands on his arms keep him upright, and he moved, no, he writhed gently, full-body, a sort of sinuous not-resistance against the ropes that bound his upper arms to his chest, his thighs together, John's hands.
John couldn't think how to describe it, even inside his own head, but it was unmistakable, it was. God, it was insane, and John's mouth was suddenly dry, his hands were shaking, and his cock, already semi-alert just from kissing Rodney, was abruptly and fiercely erect. "Jesus, Rodney?" he heard himself say, almost groan, though it sounded impossibly distant through the rushing white-noise echoing around in the interior of his skull. It sounded like a question, but John honestly had no idea if that's what it was, or what the question could even be.
Rodney's eyes opened slowly, and the light wasn't the best, but his eyes looked way too dark, and each of them held the tiny, purplish reflection of the moon.
What, you're still here? Go!