Coupling
by lamardeuse









Rating:  R

Pairing: McKay/Sheppard

Warnings (highlight to view):  sexual situations


Written for unamaga's birthday, inspired by this manip created by unamaga and unaccompanied_g.















“The, ah, the costumes are here,” Rodney murmured to John after the meeting.

John broke into a huge grin, and Rodney colored. “Stop that. There are – ” he inclined his head at the couple of stragglers still talking in a corner “– people around.”

“We're dressing up in matching outfits for the Hallowe'en party,” John said, leaning in and placing a surreptitious palm against the small of Rodney's back. “I think anybody who hasn't clued in by now is gonna figure it out then.”

“True,” Rodney squeaked, as John's hand started rubbing in small circles. “No, really, please – ”

John's hand dropped away instantly, and Rodney felt a combination of relief and regret. “Fine,” John muttered, and Rodney didn't have to look at him to know he was pouting, which was almost as bad as the leaning and the rubbing.

“It's just –” Rodney began, “I'm not used to this yet.” They'd been sleeping together for over a year, but the communiqué announcing the end of Don't Ask, Don't Tell had only reached them about a month ago. After the initial period of shock, John had been willing, even eager, to go public with their relationship, but Rodney had argued for being more circumspect. He knew John was confused and probably hurt by his reluctance, but Rodney couldn't figure out how to explain it to himself, much less John.

“I got that already,” John said tightly. “Look, if you don't want to do this, why did you ask your sister to send you the costumes?”

“Because I – ” Rodney fumbled for words. “Because I'm tired of being a coward?”

John looked at him for a long moment, and Rodney tried not to squirm. “Okay,” John murmured, looking like he wanted to touch him again. “Okay.” He checked his watch. “Look, I gotta go do some performance reviews. How about – eighteen hundred? We can grab supper first.”

Rodney nodded mutely, and John tossed him one last smile before heading out.








“The box is over here,” Rodney said as they entered his quarters. “I haven't had time to –” The door had barely whooshed shut when John dragged him into his arms and kissed him soundly “– ah, open it.”

Giving up, Rodney wound his arms around John's neck and kissed him back. This was good, this was great, this was better than great – why did they have to risk screwing it up by outing themselves at a Hallowe'en party? Despite the change in the regs, they couldn't be sure of the repercussions for John's career, and fuck, who was he kidding? The real reason he didn't want their relationship to go public was simple: if everyone found out John was into guys, there'd be twice the people coming after him than there usually were.

Rodney pulled back, gasping, feeling more than a little queasy at his sudden revelation. John rubbed a thumb over his lips and frowned slightly.

“You okay?”

“Fine,” Rodney breathed. “Let's just – let's open the box.”

“Hang on,” John said, when Rodney unfolded his Swiss Army knife, “which one of us gets to be Batman?”

Rodney stared at him. “Well, I do, of course.”

“Who says?”

“She's my sister,” Rodney said. John just gazed at him narrowly. “Oh, all right. We'll flip a coin or something.”

“You have a coin?” John asked.

“No, right, okay,” Rodney said, turning to rummage in his desk drawer, “we'll use these.” He held up a deck of cards. “High card gets to be Batman.”

“Let me shuffle,” John said.

“Oh, for – ” Rodney huffed, thrusting the cards at him. “Here.” John grinned and shuffled the cards, then magnanimously gave them to Rodney to take first cut. “Ha! Queen.”

John closed his eyes for a moment, then skimmed a few cards off the top. “King.”

Rodney glared at him. “I'm opening the box now.” He slit the tape carefully, then folded the knife, lifted the flaps and peered inside.

Then closed them again. Then opened them again. Then closed them again.

“What?”

“I'm going. To kill her.” He shoved the box onto John's lap. “Look for yourself.”

John lifted the flaps. His eyes widened. “That doesn't look like Batman and Robin costumes.”

Rodney reached in and drew out a blonde wig with long pigtails. “Unless Bruce Wayne is really a transvestite.”

“Hey, there's a note,” John said, brandishing a small card.

“You read it. I don't think I can manage it.”

Dear Rodney,” John read, “Would you believe that I couldn't find Batman and Robin costumes anywhere?

“No,” Rodney snapped. “And to think I bought that ungrateful wretch a Prius. A Prius!”

I'm sure that you and John will be the belles of the ball in this combo. Of course, you might have to fight over the red dress –

“I hate her so much,” Rodney gritted.

– but I'm sure you'll be able to figure out who wears the lederhosen in the relationship.” John did a double-take. “Lederhosen?”

“God,” Rodney said, covering his eyes. “She is pure, pure evil.”

“She is your sister,” John said, as if this explained everything.

“Well, I guess we won't be going to this Hallowe'en party.”

“It might not be so bad,” John said. Standing, he placed the box on the bed, then started removing the contents and laying them out on the mattress. “Wow. This is pretty cool, actually. She put a lot of thought into this.”

Rodney uncovered his face and joined John. There were two costumes, one complete with Tyrolean hat, checked shirt, embroidered lederhosen and tasseled knee socks, and the other with a red dress with white blouse, wig, makeup, lacy panties, black patent leather shoes with buckles, waxing kit and lady Bic – oh, she was going to pay – and...

“Jesus wept, is that a padded bra?”

“Yup,” John said, “Guess you'll be wearing that.”

“You – what? Are you insane?”

John slipped an arm around his waist. “Come on. We can be the king and queen of the ball.”

“Oh, ha ha. It's fine for you – you have the –” Rodney gestured at the bed “– actually, both outfits are pretty hideous.”

John stepped up behind Rodney and hooked his chin on Rodney's shoulder. “You said you were tired of being a coward. That, uh – ” he pressed his nose against Rodney's neck “– that meant a lot to me. I've been waiting for a while, and I was starting to think maybe –”

“Maybe?”

Rodney could feel John shake his head. “Don't know. I was still trying to figure it out.”

“Me, too. Only I think – I think I get it now. I'm a selfish bastard.”

John's head rose. “Rodney – ”

“No, listen. It's not just that now all the chieftains' sons will be after you, too, it's that – I wanted this – you – us – all to myself. I know it sounds crazy.”

John nuzzled Rodney's ear. “Nah,” he murmured. “Not crazy at all.”

Rodney sighed and leaned back against John. “I'm not shaving.”

John licked Rodney's ear. “'S'okay. I'm not wearing the hat.”

“What?” Rodney said, turning toward him. “The hat makes the whole outfit!”

John cocked his head. “Maybe after we get back from the party. If you're a good girl.”

“Oh, you – ” Rodney grabbed John by the shoulders, yanked him around and shoved him down on the bed, right on top of the costumes.

“Wait, you're gonna get 'em wrinkled.”

“And possibly sticky,” Rodney added.

“Geez, not on the leather,” John said, wriggling to pull the lederhosen out from under him.

Rodney sat up. “You really are gay, aren't you?”

John groped Rodney's ass with one hand and pulled him down with the other. “What gave it away?”








Rodney's head thunked back against the wall, knocking the wig a little askew. “Wait – you said you'd – oh, fuck – put on the hat – ”

John shoved a knee in between Rodney's legs and ran a hand up the inside of his bare thigh. “This is the part of the evening where we take off clothes, not put them on,” he growled.

Panting, Rodney spread his legs wider, all the while trying to get John's mouth back on his neck. “You – um – you have some kind of kink for guys in drag, don't you?”

“Never did before,” John said, licking up Rodney's jugular, and oh, yes, that was the spot, “maybe you brought it out.”

“Oh, really,” Rodney said, “like that makes any – ”

John's hands palmed Rodney's fake breasts, squeezing as he kissed him hungrily. Rodney moaned and pressed back against him, and shit, why was that hot? They weren't even real.

“Everybody was staring at us,” John murmured against Rodney's mouth. “Everybody.”

“Because we – we looked like idiots.”

“No,” John breathed, grinding his hips against Rodney's, “because they knew we were together.”

“Yes, well,” Rodney managed, breath hitching as John unzipped the back of his dress, “even if the costumes hadn't done the trick, that slow dancing to REO Speedwagon kind of gave it away.”

John's talented fingers unhooked the bra, and Rodney breathed a sigh of relief. “God, I don't know how women wear those things every day. That was – ” John slipped the dress down Rodney's body, baring him to the waist, and then slid his hands up to fondle his nipples under the loosened bra cups.

“Christ,” Rodney gasped, burying his head against John's shoulder.

“You like that?” John asked. The touch turned into a pinch.

In retaliation, Rodney poked him in the thigh with his dick. “What do you think?”

“Rodney, I want to – ”

Rodney palmed the front of John's lederhosen, finding the outline of his cock through the thick leather. “You want to what?”

“Want you to – nnngh – fuck me.”

Rodney drew back. “You want me to leave the wig on, don't you?”

“And maybe the bra.” John paused. “And the shoes.”

“You are a sick bastard,” Rodney breathed, though he couldn't help but notice he was even more turned on than he was ten seconds ago.

“You're gonna do it, though,” John said, sucking on his earlobe, “aren't you?”

Rodney bit John's lower lip, then soothed it with his tongue. “Only if you wear the hat, Johann.”

“Deal,” John said, and Rodney pushed him backwards toward the bed, grinning in triumph.

He'd have to send Jeannie a thank you e-mail in the morning.




End





October 2008

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