Driver's
Ed
by lamardeuse
Rating: NC-17
Pairing:
McKay/Sheppard
Warnings
(highlight to view):
explicit sex, references to canon character deaths
Written
for the highwaymiles
community on LiveJournal.
John sighed and ran a hand
through his increasingly unruly hair. He felt like the biggest heel in
two
galaxies.
Rodney sat in the forward
passenger
seat, hands gripping his knees with such force John was worried he’d
pop
his kneecaps right off. His eyes stared through the glass, unseeing. “I
really,
uh, really don’t want to do this,” he said weakly.
The last time they’d had a
flying lesson, Rodney had been as eager as a puppy with a bone,
overconfident
in his fledgling abilities, ridiculously enthusiastic.
The last time they’d had a
flying lesson, Gaul and Abrams had been sitting in the back seats,
alive.
The last time Rodney had
been
in a jumper, Gaul and Abrams had been lying in the back, their bodies
hastily
wrapped in tarps from the cargo hold. John had tried to convince Rodney
to let the other jumper take them, but Rodney had been quietly and
desperately
insistent, and John had given in. It was what he would have done if
he’d
been alone; he was just surprised Rodney felt the obligation to fallen
comrades
as strongly as he did.
He supposed he shouldn’t
have
been, really.
It had been three weeks
since
then, and John couldn’t let it slide any longer. He’d done his best to
give
Rodney some recovery time by picking missions that could be executed on
foot,
but the next planet had an orbital gate, and his team was the best
choice
for it.
“I know you don’t,” John
said,
“but it’s got to be done, Rodney. Ford and Teyla don’t have the gene to
fly the jumper, and I need someone else who can – ”
“Yes, yes, in case you’re
in
no shape to fly, I get it,” Rodney interrupted. “In case you get shot,
beaten
up, get the life sucked – ” His mouth snapped closed around the rest of
the sentence, and he sprang to his feet. “All right. I’ll take it up.”
John blinked; he’d planned
on some easy orbits to get Rodney used to the controls again, not
circuits
and bumps. “Are you sure – ”
Rodney snapped his fingers
impatiently; sighing, John pushed himself out of the chair, suddenly
feeling
older than Gaul had looked when he’d covered his mangled skull with the
heavy canvas.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
They’d started fucking
right
after the Genii had tried to take over Atlantis. John hadn’t known
exactly
how it had started; his body had still been running on adrenaline and
the
instinct they’d drilled into him during his Spec Forces training,
instinct
that kept him alive, that allowed him to extinguish the lives of sixty
people
like he was stepping on ants on the sidewalk. He was still in that
headspace
when Rodney had walked into his quarters that night, still detached
from
everything that made him human, soul adrift and tethered to the rest of
him by a half-rotted rope.
Rodney’s palm on his chest
had slammed him back into himself, and suddenly his knees didn’t really
want to work anymore and he was trembling like a leaf in a hurricane.
Usually
he just fell asleep and his subconscious worked this shit out by
itself.
By morning he’d have been fine, just fine, but no, Rodney had
to come
in and put his hand there, fingers straining to encompass both his
heart
and his dogtags and who the fuck did he think he was?
“I don’t, I wanted to, you
saved my,” Rodney babbled, and then one or both of them might have
taken
a step forward and one or both of them might have started kissing the
other
one, and after that John didn’t give a damn who had started it. John
found
he liked the uncharacteristically soft, needful noises Rodney made
while
John went down on him, found he craved Rodney’s square and competent
hands
with their sure, strong grip, found he could forget just as easily in
Rodney’s
arms as he could alone in his cold, lonely bed.
When Dr. Heightmeyer came
to
talk to him the next day, he said, “Really, Doc, I’m okay,” and he was
surprised
when he realized he almost meant it.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The muscles on Rodney’s
forearms
were bunched and straining as he maneuvered the jumper, his motions
stiff
and jerky. John thanked whatever Ancient geek had perfected the
inertial
dampeners, because flying with Rodney at the controls right now would
be
like taking a day trip on the back of a pissed-off rodeo bronc. It was
a
good thing there were no orbiting satellites or space junk, too,
because
Rodney would’ve managed to crash into every one of them by now.
“Look,” John said finally,
pinching the bridge of his nose, “I don’t know if this is working so
well.”
Rodney shot him one of his
patented you are the biggest moron ever looks, and John’s fists
clenched
in his lap. “Well, of course it isn’t working,” he growled
through
gritted teeth. “What gave it away, the complete inability to stay on
course?
The convulsive trembling? The copious sweating?”
“Rodney,” John murmured,
but
then he realized he didn’t know what the hell to say, and he’d always
been
more about actions instead of words. Reaching over and setting the
jumper
on autopilot, he got to his feet. “Stand up.”
Rodney stared up at him,
surprised
and wide-eyed, but complied. “Well?” he demanded, when John didn’t
move.
“Do you want to switch places or not?”
John cupped Rodney’s cheek
in the palm of his hand. “Not,” he answered, leaning in and softly
pressing
his mouth to Rodney’s.
Rodney pulled back almost
immediately,
scowling. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m attracted to copious
sweating,”
John retorted, leaning in again.
This time Rodney held him
at
bay with a firm palm in the center of his chest. “That’s not funny,” he
said darkly.
John sighed; the fact that
he’d gone about this entirely the wrong way failed to shock him. “It
wasn’t
meant to be funny. Well, I mean – ” He trailed off, frustration welling
in him already.
Rodney’s scowl was
downgraded
to a frown. “You really are bad at this, aren’t you?”
“Gee, thanks,” John
drawled.
“No, it’s just that I’m
usually
the one in the relationship who sucks at expressing his feelings, and
it’s
nice to finally be with – ” Rodney stuttered to a halt “ – well, that
is,
I mean, not necessarily be – ”
Now who sucks? John
thought.
“ – but that’s beside the
point,
really – ”
“Rodney,” John said,
taking
him by the arms and gently shoving at him until they’d exchanged places
in the tight space, “let me try something, okay?” He sat down in the
seat
and patted his thighs. “C’mon.”
Rodney’s eyes bugged out
of
his head. “You want me to sit – on your lap? Isn’t that a little – um,
kinky?”
John rolled his eyes. “I
promise
I have no designs on your maidenly virtue.”
Rodney flipped a hand.
“I’m
not exactly a lightweight, you know.”
“Rodney, sit down.”
“Okay, okay, sitting.”
Rodney
settled gingerly on his lap, and John slid his hands down Rodney’s arms.
“Take her off autopilot.”
Rodney shivered when
John’s
hands brushed over the backs of his own, but he obeyed. “Good,” John
murmured.
“Now. I want you to nose her down into the atmosphere, and head for the
pole.”
Rodney’s fingers danced
over
the board, the tremors easing under the steady pressure of John’s
certainty.
“North or south?”
“Take your pick.”
Rodney called up the map
on
the HUD and grabbed at the stick. “Easy,” John murmured, wrapping his
fingers
around Rodney’s, showing him the proper grip. “Nice and loose.”
Rodney sucked in a breath.
“This is kinky.”
“Just do it,” John
remonstrated,
and amazingly, the tension in Rodney’s fingers did ease a little.
John’s thighs were going
numb
by the time they reached the pole, but he didn’t care, because Rodney’s
hands
were square and competent under his own and his body was warm and solid
against
his chest, and John smiled into Rodney’s shoulder blade as the jumper
swooped
gracefully over the infinite ocean.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
One Year Later
“Okay,” Rodney gasped, “I
have
to admit I’ve thought about this for a while.”
“Nnnngghhh,” John said,
because
that was about all he could manage with his attention divided between
keeping
control of the jumper and sliding up and down on Rodney’s cock.
“You know, this is
probably
the kinkiest thing I’ve ever done,” Rodney added, and great, of course he
could talk, he wasn’t trying to fuck and fly at the same time,
and
oh, God, that felt really, really –
“You ever done this
before?”
Rodney asked, biting John’s shoulder. “In a helicopter?”
“You have no idea
how
hard it is to fly a chopper, do you?” John demanded, twisting around to
glare
at Rodney out of the corner of his eye.
Rodney did a little
twisting
of his own, and his cock hit just the right place to make a shower of
sparks
trail across John’s vision, and then Rodney was shifting forward and
one
of his fingers jabbed at the console, engaging the autopilot.
“I think,” Rodney said,
hands
bracketing John’s hips and settling him fully on Rodney’s lap, “that it
might be a good idea to concentrate on one thing right now. For – for
safety’s
sake.”
John started slamming down
onto him, seeking more contact, his own hands clenching on the arms of
the
chair to give him more leverage. “I’m – all about safety,” he breathed,
back
bowing as Rodney’s fingers wrapped around John’s cock with just the
right
amount of pressure.
“Good,” Rodney whispered.
“That’s
– good.”
The blue curve of the
planet
beneath them momentarily disappeared as John’s vision grayed out, and
he
came back to himself with Rodney’s arms wrapped around him and Rodney’s
thighs trembling beneath his own. Grunting, he tried to shift off
Rodney’s
lap, but Rodney only held him tighter.
“Rodney, you must be
losing
all the feeling in your legs right about now.”
Rodney’s forehead pressed
into
John’s shoulder blade. “I’m fine,” he answered. “Just – stay like this
for
a minute?”
“Okay,” John murmured,
feeling
oddly small and powerful at the same time. Disengaging the autopilot,
he
pulled back on the stick and nudged the jumper out of orbit.
“Hey, you’re good,” Rodney
observed, as the ship climbed into the blackness of space.
“Thanks. I’ve been taking
lessons,”
John said, and smiled when Rodney’s body began to shake with silent
laughter.
End
May 2006
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