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October 2009
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Feather [userpic]
Blue Streak SGA

Well, now I've done it! I went and got bitten by a vicious little SGA plot bunny. ::looks at gnawed ankle in dismay:: It's really not my fault, though. This hot pic got put up on pic_fic and there was no helping it. catspaw_sgjd suggested that I shoot it, but it turned out to be a lot faster than I am *g* She, and kellifer_fic agreed to look it over for me. Thank you ladies!

Blue mud, naked hiking, and Rodney can't concentrate. NC-17, of course! :-D

"So," Rodney said gazing down uncertainly. "Do you think it's cold?"

"Probably," John agreed, gazing down too. They were standing naked at the edge of a crystal-clear deep forest spring. John looked sideways at Rodney. "We don't have to do this, ya know."

"I know," Rodney said morosely. "But I want to get inside that temple." He turned to Marakus, the High Priest. "It's cold, isn't it?"

Marakus smiled. "The purpose of this ritual is to test your resolve, as well as for purification."

Rodney dipped a toe in and snatched it back with a hiss. "I'll probably catch pneumonia or something."

John rolled his eyes. "Stop being such a pussy," he said, and waded in.

"You are what you eat," Rodney snapped back, and stepped in with a startled gasp.

John chose to ignore that and took a few more steps until he was thigh deep. Yep. It was just as cold as he feared. His balls were trying to crawl inside his body, shrinking away from the cold, and his dick was trying to do pretty much the same thing. He turned around and watched with exasperation as Rodney waded in, hands cupped protectively over his private parts.

"You must immerse yourselves fully," Marakus instructed.

"Of course we must," Rodney muttered. "Why am I not surprised?"

John took a deep breath, gritted his teeth, and forced his knees to buckle. It took iron will, but he managed to sink until his head was completely submerged, fighting the gasp that threatened to break free at the shock of cold water. He rose back up just in time to see Rodney bursting out of the water, breaching like a whale--arms flung wide, hair plastered down, sparkling droplets clinging to his lashes, sputtering and struggling to catch his breath.

"Well, that was invigorating," John muttered through the chattering of his teeth. "What now?"

Marakus motioned them out of the pool and they both splashed eagerly for the edge, climbing out over the moss-covered stones. He handed them a bucket filled with a thick, deep cobalt blue substance. "You must cover yourselves completely."

John snagged a finger full and tested the texture. It was very smooth, like fine potter’s clay, but not as thick. He shrugged and scooped up a handful.

"Wait!" Rodney said, sniffing the goop suspiciously. "Does this stain? What's in it? I'd hate to get a rash or have an allergic reaction."

"That's it," John said as he scraped his handful back into the bucket. "We're done here." He squatted down to wash his hand off in the spring. "Put your clothes back on. We're going home."

"But we haven't been inside the temple yet!" Rodney protested. "I need to see what kind of power source they have."

John walked over to the pile of clothes and started pulling his pants on. "All you've done since we started this is whine."

"Oh please," Rodney said. "Like that's a surprise?"

John turned and glared. "We're done here. Get dressed."

"No," Rodney said defiantly and scooped up a handful of the blue mud. "I'm getting into that temple."

John gritted his teeth. No way could he let Rodney go alone. "Fine," he snapped, pulling off his pants. "But no more bitching."

Rodney glanced up at him then rubbed the stuff up and down one arm, coating it thoroughly. "You do know me, right?"

John stomped back over, stifling his irritation. Yeah, he did know Rodney. He was reaching for the mud when Marakus cleared his throat and said, "You must repurify yourself first."

Rodney didn't even try to hide his smirk as he watched John wade back into the water.

John emerged shivering and gasping, grateful for the sunlit heat of the afternoon. He reached for a handful of clay and started rubbing it on himself. It felt kind of nice, actually, slippery and smooth and holding the warmth in. John had his eyes closed and was massaging the mud into his hair when Rodney said, "Hey, will you do my back? I can't reach."

John swallowed. Oh god. He opened his eyes and there in front of him was Rodney. John let his eyes travel over the broad, square shoulders, drift down to the dip just above his ass, then lower. He shouldn't have been surprised to see that Rodney's ass was square, too. He felt his mouth go dry.

"Major?" Rodney was looking oddly at him over his shoulder.

John schooled his features and reached for the mud. Okay, this was a fantasy come true. Well, minus the mud part, but still. He touched Rodney's shoulders and let his hands glide over the line of Rodney's back, smoothing the clay over the knobs of his spine, feeling the mud ooze between his fingers as he rubbed it down in the small of Rodney's back. He couldn't help massaging a little and his cock gave an interested twitch when he felt Rodney relax under his hands. He snatched his hands back. "Okay, there."

"Turn around and let me do you," Rodney said, and oh fuck was John having a hard time not letting his imagination run away with him at that little statement. This would give him jerk off material for months. He turned around, grateful that Marakus wasn't standing where he could see his dick and tried to think of the Wraith, the Genii, anything that would help him keep his dick under control.

He jumped a little when Rodney touched him, and struggled with the temptation to lean back into Rodney's hands. They felt good, really good, gliding firmly over his skin, smoothing over his ribs, stroking down low toward his ass. Wraith! Genii! Atlantis destroyed! And it was over, Rodney's hands leaving him. He wasn't quite ready to turn around and face them though, so he looked over his shoulder.

His signature smirk was firmly in place when he quipped, "We look like we belong with the Blue Man Group," and both he and Rodney snickered. He turned his head to Marakus. "Now what?"

"Now you wait until the sacred essence dries, drawing out the impurities, then you wash in the holy spring again," Marakus said.

That did it nicely. His dick fully deflated at the thought of going back into that freezing water. He turned around, letting the sun bake into him.

Rodney cleared his throat. "You missed a spot," he said, pointing to John's groin, and John was sure Rodney was blushing underneath that blue clay. He could hear it in his voice.

Marakus walked over and inspected them both closely. "You must be fully covered," he stated, pointing out several spots that needed more mud. John scooped up a bit more clay and tried to figure out how to rub it in without it feeling too good.

John could feel the mud tightening as it dried. So this was why women used the stuff on their faces. It did feel weird on his groin, though. But then, his dick had been barely contained since this whole thing started. Cold water! Wraith! Genii! And then it was finally time to rinse off.

It took a bit of doing; he and Rodney had to help each other get the mud off. John had to fight the urge to start a water fight, but when it was done his skin felt soft and smooth, invigorated by the ritual cleansing.

They both climbed out of the pool and John headed toward his clothes.

"No!" Marakus warned. "You must not touch anything or you will have to perform the ritual again."

"Do we at least get a robe or something? Like what you're wearing?" Rodney asked.

"No," Marakus answered, stripping off his simple robe. "We all go into the temple naked and open, so we can hide nothing from God."

"What about that?" Rodney said, pointing frantically to his scanner. "I need to bring that!"

Marakus walked over and inspected it without touching for a moment. "Is this from the Ancients?"


Marakus picked it up and handed it to a very relieved Rodney. "Then it is permitted."

John felt a little twitchy about not being armed, but these people had been very friendly and Teyla knew them well. Of course, she'd thought she had known the Genii, too. John pushed that thought to the back of his head and followed Marakus to the temple. Half way there he glanced back at Rodney and smirked, “I don’t remember streaking being in my job description.”

“We’re not running, thank god,” Rodney pointed out. “But yeah, most astrophysics jobs don’t require it either. Although, there was this one incident in grad school . . . “ Rodney cleared his throat. ”But that’s neither here nor there. At least he let us wash the mud off. It would chafe.”

“Streaking in college? You animal!” John teased.

“It was a running of the bulls sort of thing,” Rodney said, clearly not wanting to talk about it, then seeing that John was intrigued, sighed. “I’ll tell you about it later, okay?”

“It’s a date!” John said enthusiastically. “I’ll bring the beer bong.”

“Oh please.”

They continued on, following Marakus. John could swear he felt Rodney’s eyes burning into his ass.

The pleasant coolness of the temple was in direct contrast to the heat outside. He stuck close to Rodney trying not to notice the excited panting and barely muffled coos.

"Okay, we're done," Rodney finally said happily after what seemed like hours, and followed John back to their clothes, talking excitedly about his discovery. "It's not a ZedPM, but it puts out substantially more power than our naquada generators. If I can reverse engineer it, we may be able to get the shields up and running."

"Do you think you'll be able to do that?" John asked, gratefully pulling his pants on.

"Oh please," Rodney sniffed. "Of course I can. Getting the materials might be a problem, though."

"You don't mean . . ." John prompted, staring.

"Well, the Genii are the only ones we've encountered that are even close to having the level of technology we can use," Rodney said. "But let's not panic before it's necessary. I need to study this first."

Rodney advised him not to panic? John had to suppress a snort. "Okay, let's head back to the village." And it was all so normal, just like always. John reveled in the fact that he'd managed to hide his feelings yet again. He was getting pretty damned good at it.

He tried not to think about what he'd be doing as soon as he got to the little cottage he'd been given for their stay, not think about jerking off to thoughts of Rodney's ass. He didn't even make it into the shower. He got his dick out as soon as the door shut behind him, leaned against the wall, and came after a few short, vicious jerks.

Later, John was stretched out on the bed reading, a fire going in the cottage’s hearth. The days were warm enough, but the nights had a definite chill. Someone knocked on the door. "Come in!" he called. Rodney swung the door open, looking off balanced. "Rodney?" he asked with concern, putting his book down. "What's the matter?"

"I can't concentrate," Rodney said accusingly, and stepped inside, the door shutting behind him. "And it's all your fault." It came out almost a whine.

"My fault," John asked, apprehensively. "What did I do now?"

"You . . ." Rodney waved his hand in a helpless gesture. "With the mud."

"What about the mud?" Oh shit. Maybe it was something else, John thought hopefully.

"Yes, the mud," Rodney snipped and waved his hand again. "And the . . ."

"What?" John asked, his voice hard, warning.

"Arousal!" Rodney practically shouted. "You were turned on!"

John flushed hot and cold. "I was not."

"Oh, please," Rodney snorted. "What am I, stupid?" The air was crackling between them.

John floundered, searching for an excuse. "It was just . . . " He stopped, not able to think of a single thing except he'd derailed Rodney’s concentration.

It was a feat of epic proportions.

"And now all I can think about is you!" Rodney accused.

"Well, I'm sorry about that!" John said awkwardly, trying really hard to not be pleased.

Rodney glared at him, then stalked over to the bed, climbed on, and kissed him, pushing him back into the pillows.

John's hands flailed for half a second before sinking into Rodney's hair and pulling him in. At first it was a brutal kiss, meant as punishment, then it changed, softened, their tongues gliding. John spread his legs and Rodney settled in, his cock pushing against John's thigh.

Rodney ran his hand through John's hair and down to cup his skull. "John," he whispered brokenly.

John rolled them over and knelt up, pulling off his T-shirt. Rodney looked up at him with a kind of wonder, the firelight flickering over his features, and ran his palms over John's chest; hands not gliding as smoothly as with the mud but creating a delicious friction. John's erection was painful within the confines of his pants, so he opened them, freeing himself.

Rodney reached with one tentative finger and ran it up the thick vein on the underside of John's cock. John shivered and moaned softly. Rodney pulled him back down into a kiss.

John broke away and stood up to finish undressing. He got distracted when Rodney stood up too and started helping him. He returned the favor and they were finally naked. John pulled Rodney close, rubbing against the broad plains of Rodney's chest, pulling their groins together, gripping Rodney's ass tightly. He started pushing Rodney toward the bed.

"No," Rodney said and sank to his knees, pulling John down with him. "Let's do it here."

"On a bearskin rug in front of a fire?" John asked, laughing. "How trite can you get?"

"Oh please," Rodney scoffed. "It's not bearskin. It's not even a mammal . . . "

John took a gamble and yep, turned out that a really good way to get Rodney to stop analyzing was to kiss him. He reached up and snagged a few pillows from the bed, threw them down, and pressed Rodney back, then slid to the side and started exploring. Rodney had really sensitive nipples, John discovered. The bud was already hard when he first licked over it, then grew harder when he sucked. Rodney arched his back and moaned, his fingers running through John's hair. John nuzzled lower, and yes, Rodney smelled good here; rich and earthy and aroused. John felt Rodney's cock against his cheek, already leaking. He turned his head and licked, tasting.

"Oh god," Rodney choked. "Please."

John grinned and licked over the head once more before swallowing Rodney down. He had to go with it, because Rodney arched sharply, gasping. He backed off a little and suckled the head, running his tongue over the sensitive underside.

"Oh god. Yes. That's . . ." Rodney was running his fingers through John's hair and babbling. He lost his speech when John mouthed his balls, taking each one in and sucking gently. Then John rolled Rodney onto his side and buried his face between Rodney's cheeks. He stroked his tongue over the twitching opening once, then again because Rodney made a strangled noise, and suddenly he couldn't wait any longer. He rolled Rodney onto his back, knelt between his sprawled thighs and reached for one of the pillows. "Lift up," he instructed, his voice low and husky.

Rodney planted his feet and lifted his hips. John tucked the pillow underneath and scooted forward, resting Rodney's thighs on top of his. He reached for the opening and stopped, realizing a flaw in the plan. "Lube?" he panted.

Rodney looked at him, dazed. "What?"

"We need lube."

"I don't . . . " Rodney stopped, thinking furiously.

"That's okay," John said, trying to hide his disappointment. "We can do other stuff."

"No! There's got to be something . . ." Then Rodney's face brightened. "Sunblock?"

John grinned, got up and went to his pack. He fished around then turned back with the tube in his hand. His smile faltered. God. There it was, his fantasy, all sprawled out on the not-bearskin rug, hard and panting and ready for him. He swallowed.

"John?" Rodney asked, concerned. "If you don't want to . . . "

"No," John said. "I do." He flushed slightly and knelt back down between Rodney's legs. "It's just . . . " And he was sure it was all there on his face, the months of wanting.

Suddenly Rodney sat up, curled one arm around John's waist, the other up to his shoulder, and pulled him in close. "Me too," he whispered against John's neck.

John wrapped one arm around Rodney and then pulled back to kiss him again. Rodney sank back down, pulling John with him, then wiggled his hips. "Now fuck me," he demanded softly.

John grinned and knelt back up. "A little more," he said, urging Rodney to scoot closer. He squirted some sunblock on his fingers and circled Rodney's opening in slow, tormenting circles, then pushed in.

"Oh christ yes," Rodney groaned, his head lolling to the side.

John squirted more sunblock onto his fingers and pushed in with two, paying close attention to Rodney's body, noticing the light sheen of sweat that made the light from the fire dance over his skin, seeing that his cock was stiff and leaking, hearing his panting gasps. He slicked up his cock and pushed inside the tight, hot space, and had to think about the cold water again, because, damnit, he was going to come from the intensity of it all.

"What are you . . . " Rodney moaned. "Come on." He writhed under John, trying to get him to move.

Figured that Rodney would be a pushy bottom.

It gave John the edge he needed. "What? Like this?" he teased, then rolled his hips.

Rodney gave a hitching gasp. "Oh yeah."

"Or maybe like this?" John pulled out almost all the way then pushed back in, excruciatingly slow.

"Oh fuck," Rodney groaned.

"Or do you prefer this?" John pulled out and slammed in hard and fast. Whoa. He almost got himself with that one.

"Stop fucking around," Rodney said, his eyes filled with laughter. "Just pick one and go with it."

John smiled, leaned forward, and caught Rodney's lips in a kiss. "I like this one," he breathed, moving his hips slow and deep.

"Yeah, that'll work," Rodney slurred, then, "Oh fuck. That's gonna make me come."

John kept it up, his hands and lips and cock pushing Rodney to the edge. He felt Rodney tense up and knew he was close. "Oh yeah," he urged, watching Rodney's face. "That's it. Do it, Rodney."

"I'm . . . " Rodney groaned. "Oh god. Close!"

John switched to rolling his hips. It didn't take long. One. Two. Three rolls and John watched the orgasm wash over Rodney's face, extreme pleasure making the tendons stand out on his neck. He felt Rodney's body spasm, so strong it almost lifted them both off the floor.

John let go of his control. He pushed forward, hard and fast, and let his pleasure thunder through him.

John came back to himself to find he'd been wrapped up in warm arms and strong legs. It was nice. Really nice. And he didn't think he wanted to be without this. What did Rodney want, though? Was this a one-off? He lifted his face and smiled down at Rodney, hoping he looked more confident than he felt. "So. Sorry I kept you from your work. Think you can concentrate now?" Making it light and easy.

Rodney stared at him in astonishment, seeing right through him. "For someone who could be in Mensa, you're an idiot." He rolled them over until John was pinned under him. He kissed John deeply. "We've both wanted this for a long time."

"Yes," John admitted, pulling Rodney down into a tight hug. "Yes we have."

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Current Mood: anxiousanxious

OMG you made me read SGA fic!!!! I dont read SGA fic!!!

I loved it!!! Weeeeeee

::makes come-hither motions:: Come to the dark side, Nicci. LOLOL

I'm so glad you liked it, though! :-)