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sga_saturdayTitle: Voyager
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
esteefee
Pairing: OT4
Rating: NC-17
Categories: Established Relationship, post-series, PWP
Words: 2,931
Warnings: none
Summary: um. hm. John takes a trip without leaving their bed.
(Oh, just read it. There's sex, anyway, and I stayed up way too late writing it.)
Voyager
by esteefee
They were waiting for him in Teyla's quarters when John got off rotation, and all three of them looked up when he came in, varying looks of anticipation on their faces. Rodney's was the brightest, and in his hands—
"What the hell is that?" John asked rhetorically. He hadn't seen a bottle of champagne in over six years. In fact, the last time was a memory that was kind of painful and foggy—the giant magnum rolling down the low ramp at Atlantis' gate into Elizabeth's hands. "You've got to be kidding, Rodney."
"Well, this is cause for a celebration, isn't it?"
"Jeez. Don't make such a big deal out of it." John rubbed the back of his neck and turned away to shrug off his outer shirt. He folded it and put it in the cubbyhole Teyla had provided for each of them by the doorway, and felt her hand on his shoulder, and then the warm press of her against his side. He turned and kissed her briefly, smiling when she chuckled and ran her hand up his leg to unbuckle his thigh harness.
"Oh, I'd call it a big deal," Rodney said, "the long-awaited handing over of your precious ass mmph—"
That had to be Ronon shutting Rodney up with his mouth. Either that or his cock, but since they were both still dressed, John was guessing the first one.
John lifted his lips from Teyla's. "Use the word I think you were about to and it ain't gonna happen at all."
Teyla laughed and finished pulling off his gun belt. John got to work on his boots. He could hear Ronon and Rodney getting busy with their own clothing, Ronon saying something playful when Rodney complained about "unnecessary roughness."
John helped Teyla with the straps of her bra-thing. Her shoulder had been bothering her lately.
"So, what—you thought you'd christen me like a yacht or something? That's why the champagne?"
"I just thought the occasion warranted something special," Rodney said, "After all, there must be some reason why you've waited all this time."
John tensed for a moment before pushing off his BDUs. "I told you, there's no particular reason. I just never wanted to before."
"Right." Rodney put a mouthful of scorn into it.
"Rodney," Teyla said in warning.
"Shut up, Rodney," Ronon said. John turned, and saw Ronon toss Rodney onto Teyla's gigantic bed. Teyla gave John a pat on the butt and then went running over to kneel on the edge, the cheeks of her ass and her thigh muscles bunching with gorgeous, tight muscles as she wormed her way between them. John stood for a moment and watched as they all twisted and squirmed against each other, contrasting shades of cream, copper and brown, flawed here and there by love handles and stretch marks and scars to match his own, but so goddamned beautiful. His family.
"You comin'?" Ronon asked, stretching out a lazy hand, and John grasped it and knelt down to kiss him, to taste Ronon's mouth, take in his familiar, strong, silky tongue. John felt Rodney's hand pushing at his boxers, and he helped get them off, shoving them down and off his legs, and then he was pulled between Ronon and Rodney, and flipped onto his back—Ronon's favorite move. Teyla curled along the top of the bed so she could kiss him some more, her fingers pushing through his hair, trying to tame his cowlicks like she always did. Her favorite little game.
"Not gonna happen," he said ruefully when she let him up to breathe, but she just smiled and kept at it, her fingers making him shiver, making his nipples stand up for Rodney to bite on. "Jesus," he burst out, because usually at this point in the proceedings they paired off randomly for the first round, then switched if they had time, but right now all three of them were touching him at once, Ronon's fingers drifting down to fondle John's balls, Rodney's mouth working John's nipples, Teyla kissing him so hot and sweet and nasty all at once.
John yanked his mouth away and said, "Okay. Okay, hang on." He had to breathe for a second.
"John," Teyla sounded concerned, and she scratched his scalp comfortingly, "you do not need to do this if you do not wish."
"No, no I said I would—"
"What is your problem?"
"Rodney—"
"I don't have a problem." John knew what Rodney probably thought—that it was some macho hang-up or something, but he really didn't think it was that. Hell, John loved fucking Ronon, and no one in their right mind could look at Ronon being fucked and think anything but power and hot-hot-hot.
And John wasn't hung up about being queer. John knew he was queer before he knew there was a word for it.
Teyla's thumb pressed down on his forehead and rubbed him softly. "You must stop thinking," she said. "and just do."
"Yeah. Yeah, okay," John said. "What do I do?"
Ronon grinned down at him wolfishly and said, "I think that's my job."
John felt himself smiling back helplessly. "All right." He couldn't resist reaching down and groping Ronon's cock a little.
"Oh, great. Who says he gets to go first?"
Teyla laughed. "I think you spoiled your chance, Rodney."
But John leaned around Ronon to give Rodney a sloppy kiss. "Don't worry, smart ass. You'll get your turn."
Rodney sputtered a little then said, only half-seriously, "You're making a big mistake, you know. And I mean," he held his hands out, "biiig—"
John winced. "Shut up, already."
Rodney smirked, "But you like to do things the hard way, don't you, John?"
"He'll be fine," Ronon said, slapping John's hip. "C'mon. Turn over."
So, he was doing this thing. John squirmed onto his stomach, and he guessed his dick was okay with it after all, because he had to shift or get it bent in half against the mattress. Teyla sidled up next to him once he was settled and kissed him, slow and soft, then deeper, and he drew the back of his hand over her breast and down over her belly, then rubbed his knuckles against her clit, making her squirm. She bit her lower lip and kissed him again, then drew back and smiled, pure sex, and John grinned back.
Something thunked to the mattress beside him, and he glanced down. It was the big bottle of lube, the thick stuff with the squeeze cap. John swallowed and tried to crane his head back to see what Ronon and Rodney were up to. They were wrapped together, whispering about something, probably making plans—
"When I was a young girl on Athos," Teyla said softly, and John had to pay attention, because Teyla hardly ever spoke of her childhood. "I knew a boy—we were so young I barely had a chest to speak of." Her voice dropped even lower. "He was my first. His name was Telon." She smiled fondly. "We brought each other pleasure with our hands and our mouths, but then he wanted to try more."
John nodded, a little apprehensive at the direction she was going in. He kissed her brow, and she drew her hand through his hair in reassurance. "At first I didn't want to. I was like a boy, you see, rough and wild, and I played all the same games, fought with them, bested them all, and our bodies were so similar except here," she pressed her hand against John's, pushing herself against his fingers. "I wasn't sure I wanted to be so different." She stared into John's eyes as if pleading for him to understand.
John nodded and swallowed harshly. Tried to speak. "You thought it would change you."
She rewarded him with a kiss, then said, her voice still almost a whisper, "I didn't understand that a man could receive in the same way a woman can."
Heat burrowed in John's chest, and he curled his arm around her. "Okay," he said, leaning their foreheads together. "Okay."
"You guys ready?" Ronon said, and the bed dipped. Then Rodney was urging John to lift up so he could push a pillow under John's hips, which felt awkward until he settled down onto his elbows, a pillow under his face. Teyla joined him on the pillow, her fingers back in his hair, and then Ronon was nudging between John's legs.
It felt weird, and the blood rushed to John's face—he was conscious of his ass in the air, and of Ronon and Rodney behind and beside him, Rodney's hands petting his back and Ronon's on his ass cheeks.
"His ass is too small," Rodney complained. "Seriously, Sheppard, all that running is making your ass disappear."
"Looks fine to me," Ronon said, and John felt him squeeze. "Firm and smooth. Good tone." John's face got even hotter. Ronon had big hands, and they were warm and slightly calloused.
When John opened his eyes, Teyla was grinning at him. "It is a very fine ass, John. Do not listen to Rodney."
"Hand me the stuff," Ronon said, and even though Teyla kissed him just then, John could hear the burping squish of the bottle, and he tensed up in spite of himself.
"John," Teyla said, "be easy." She ran her fingers through his hair, but he closed his eyes, not wanting to see her watching him. He felt Ronon pushing his cheeks apart and then the slick slide of something pressing against his asshole—it felt like Ronon's thumb—rubbing around and around. It didn't feel bad, but it was his ass, and sexy and his ass weren't usually connected in his head.
Teyla drew his hand back down to her pussy and, glad to be distracted, he palmed her mound the way she liked.
Ronon seemed to think he was slick enough, or relaxed enough, because he pushed two of his fingers inside John's ass. John jerked in spite of himself, but then relaxed when there was no pain. Just—it was Ronon's fingers, sliding a little deeper. Strange.
"In me," Teyla whispered against his lips. He opened his eyes and slipped two fingers inside her, consciously imitating Ronon's rhythm, in, then out.
Teyla moaned softly.
She was wet and warm inside, and suddenly he wanted to fuck her.
"Easy, John," Ronon said just before his fingers sank a lot deeper, and there it was—John had halfway been expecting it, remembering too many uncomfortable Air Force med exams, but this was different, softer, subtler, a growing warmth and pleasure behind his balls. He shifted his hips, seeking—
John moaned quietly.
"Yeah, John," Ronon said, "that's it." He sounded eager, younger somehow. He wanted to fuck. John shivered.
Rodney said something John couldn't quite hear, but he sounded excited too, and John realized he was watching. It made John's neck heat up, made him shift some more, arching his back, and he kissed Teyla again, wanting something, anything—God, he was so turned on right now, and he didn't understand it. It was so...different.
He felt ready to go—in some direction, or somewhere. He just didn't know where.
The bed shifted, and then John felt another hand—Rodney's, he realized—God, those were Rodney's fingers joining Ronon's, two of them slipping in alongside, and John felt full, stretched. His body was humming, with all three of them touching him, Teyla kissing him, so hot under his hand, and he broke away from her mouth to say, "Yeah. Okay. All right, already."
His heart was pounding a little hard, like he was pre-flight before testing the Osprey, or in the command chair right before they were about to launch Atlantis away from Earth. He could feel the blood heavy in his wrists, in his cock, pulsing through his temples, as Ronon shifted closer behind him and nudged his legs further apart.
Then the fingers were gone, and there was just Ronon's cock pressing up against him, pushing hard, pushing in.
Ronon made a deep sound of pleasure that Rodney seemed to echo.
John gasped, because, yeah, he should've, maybe—except then Ronon's cock opened him wider, impossibly, and then somehow more easily, even though the stretch was making John's eyes water a little.
When he blinked, Teyla was smiling at him ruefully, knowingly, and he grinned back suddenly, wanting to laugh. But then, Oh.
John arched his back. "God, Ronon."
Ronon grunted and pulled back and then thrust in, then again, grabbing John's hips and pulling him onto his cock—it felt like he was owning John's body, taking it over. It was nothing like sex was supposed to be. He moaned and grabbed at the mattress a little desperately.
Rodney chuckled. "I know. Idiot. You've been missing out, I'm telling you." He stroked John's side and said, his voice a little husky, "John, I swear, if you could see the view right now, the way you're taking his—"
"Jesus, Rodney." John was afraid to hear it, because every nerve was reporting in—all good things, but he blinked at Teyla, who kissed him suddenly, fiercely, and he drew her as close as he could, kissing her back, and then reached down with one hand and started touching her again, palm flush against her, sinking his fingers inside her just the way she liked, fucking her while Ronon fucked him.
God, Ronon really was fucking him now. Slowly but surely the rhythm started carrying him upward, pressing him down onto the pillow, and he hiked his ass a little higher and that was even better—so much better.
Ronon seemed to approve, because he shortened his strokes, shoving against John's butt, his cockhead working inside John's ass, smooth and warm and hard, pressing up behind his balls and making him gasp because it was so good, so good. He liked it.
John spread his knees wider and said, "Go for it," because he could tell Ronon was holding back; John knew what that was like.
But Ronon just leaned over him and said, "I like it like this," and nuzzled his cheek, and kept on fucking him smooth and easy and rolling his hips. Ronon was so excellent at this. John had seen him fucking Rodney so he knew it; knew Ronon could go for a long time, too, and just the thought made John's cock jerk, took him up even higher, even closer to the top, but he needed something more.
He pressed his forehead against the pillow and focused on stroking into Teyla, three fingers now, the bones of his palm rubbing circles on her clit, and after a minute he felt her start to come, felt her clutching around his fingers, and it was like he could feel it around his cock. But it was her cries of pleasure, her voice shivering into his ears that finally pushed him over.
"Fuck," John moaned, and felt himself clench up hard, and then it was all good, he was overwhelmed, he was flying, and distantly he heard Ronon groan, but there was no let up—Ronon kept fucking him right through it, and he hadn't known it would be so amazing, coming while still being fucked, but it gave him something to hold onto while his body shook and shivered and kept on coming, over and over, until he shuddered down safe into a sweaty mess.
He kind of felt like a jerk collapsing like that, because Ronon hadn't finished, but then Ronon pushed in hard, one-two-three-four times, and went still with a quiet gasp—some day, John thought, they were going to get the big guy to yell.
"God," John said directly into the pillow.
Ronon mumbled something in agreement, and John tried hard to move, turn over, because Rodney hadn't come yet, but then a second later Rodney let out a moan and something warm and wet splattered onto John's back.
"Real nice there, McKay." John twisted around to smirk at Rodney, who was red-faced but unrepentant.
"I'm sorry? But that was hot! I couldn't help myself."
"Get ready," Ronon said, and before John could say anything, Ronon was pulling out—slowly, but it was painful all the same, and John buried his face in the pillow to muffle his groan. He felt Teyla's hand in his hair again, and he turned his head to look at her.
"Are you all right?" She stared at him intently.
"Just peachy. Except somebody better go get a towel or something."
"Yes, yes. Bitch, bitch." Rodney leaned over to give John a kiss. John hooked his hand around Rodney's neck and made it a good one. Then he shoved Rodney toward the bathroom.
He was kind of trapped on his stomach until he got cleaned up, so he relaxed back down on his pillow. Ronon had gotten rid of the condom and settled on his other side, and now he laid an arm across John's shoulders.
"Good?"
"Sure. It was a trip." John grabbed his hand and kissed the inside of his wrist, then rubbed his cheek against Ronon's palm. "Thanks. You were awesome."
He wasn't really sure just when he'd want to do it again, but he was pretty sure he did. Yeah, it had been different, but different could be good, too. Different was fine.
Just look at the four of them.
"Say, Rodney, could you bring some glasses? I think we're ready for that champagne."
When he turned back to Teyla, she was smiling.
End.
Author:
esteefeePairing: OT4
Rating: NC-17
Categories: Established Relationship, post-series, PWP
Words: 2,931
Warnings: none
Summary: um. hm. John takes a trip without leaving their bed.
(Oh, just read it. There's sex, anyway, and I stayed up way too late writing it.)
Voyager
by esteefee
They were waiting for him in Teyla's quarters when John got off rotation, and all three of them looked up when he came in, varying looks of anticipation on their faces. Rodney's was the brightest, and in his hands—
"What the hell is that?" John asked rhetorically. He hadn't seen a bottle of champagne in over six years. In fact, the last time was a memory that was kind of painful and foggy—the giant magnum rolling down the low ramp at Atlantis' gate into Elizabeth's hands. "You've got to be kidding, Rodney."
"Well, this is cause for a celebration, isn't it?"
"Jeez. Don't make such a big deal out of it." John rubbed the back of his neck and turned away to shrug off his outer shirt. He folded it and put it in the cubbyhole Teyla had provided for each of them by the doorway, and felt her hand on his shoulder, and then the warm press of her against his side. He turned and kissed her briefly, smiling when she chuckled and ran her hand up his leg to unbuckle his thigh harness.
"Oh, I'd call it a big deal," Rodney said, "the long-awaited handing over of your precious ass mmph—"
That had to be Ronon shutting Rodney up with his mouth. Either that or his cock, but since they were both still dressed, John was guessing the first one.
John lifted his lips from Teyla's. "Use the word I think you were about to and it ain't gonna happen at all."
Teyla laughed and finished pulling off his gun belt. John got to work on his boots. He could hear Ronon and Rodney getting busy with their own clothing, Ronon saying something playful when Rodney complained about "unnecessary roughness."
John helped Teyla with the straps of her bra-thing. Her shoulder had been bothering her lately.
"So, what—you thought you'd christen me like a yacht or something? That's why the champagne?"
"I just thought the occasion warranted something special," Rodney said, "After all, there must be some reason why you've waited all this time."
John tensed for a moment before pushing off his BDUs. "I told you, there's no particular reason. I just never wanted to before."
"Right." Rodney put a mouthful of scorn into it.
"Rodney," Teyla said in warning.
"Shut up, Rodney," Ronon said. John turned, and saw Ronon toss Rodney onto Teyla's gigantic bed. Teyla gave John a pat on the butt and then went running over to kneel on the edge, the cheeks of her ass and her thigh muscles bunching with gorgeous, tight muscles as she wormed her way between them. John stood for a moment and watched as they all twisted and squirmed against each other, contrasting shades of cream, copper and brown, flawed here and there by love handles and stretch marks and scars to match his own, but so goddamned beautiful. His family.
"You comin'?" Ronon asked, stretching out a lazy hand, and John grasped it and knelt down to kiss him, to taste Ronon's mouth, take in his familiar, strong, silky tongue. John felt Rodney's hand pushing at his boxers, and he helped get them off, shoving them down and off his legs, and then he was pulled between Ronon and Rodney, and flipped onto his back—Ronon's favorite move. Teyla curled along the top of the bed so she could kiss him some more, her fingers pushing through his hair, trying to tame his cowlicks like she always did. Her favorite little game.
"Not gonna happen," he said ruefully when she let him up to breathe, but she just smiled and kept at it, her fingers making him shiver, making his nipples stand up for Rodney to bite on. "Jesus," he burst out, because usually at this point in the proceedings they paired off randomly for the first round, then switched if they had time, but right now all three of them were touching him at once, Ronon's fingers drifting down to fondle John's balls, Rodney's mouth working John's nipples, Teyla kissing him so hot and sweet and nasty all at once.
John yanked his mouth away and said, "Okay. Okay, hang on." He had to breathe for a second.
"John," Teyla sounded concerned, and she scratched his scalp comfortingly, "you do not need to do this if you do not wish."
"No, no I said I would—"
"What is your problem?"
"Rodney—"
"I don't have a problem." John knew what Rodney probably thought—that it was some macho hang-up or something, but he really didn't think it was that. Hell, John loved fucking Ronon, and no one in their right mind could look at Ronon being fucked and think anything but power and hot-hot-hot.
And John wasn't hung up about being queer. John knew he was queer before he knew there was a word for it.
Teyla's thumb pressed down on his forehead and rubbed him softly. "You must stop thinking," she said. "and just do."
"Yeah. Yeah, okay," John said. "What do I do?"
Ronon grinned down at him wolfishly and said, "I think that's my job."
John felt himself smiling back helplessly. "All right." He couldn't resist reaching down and groping Ronon's cock a little.
"Oh, great. Who says he gets to go first?"
Teyla laughed. "I think you spoiled your chance, Rodney."
But John leaned around Ronon to give Rodney a sloppy kiss. "Don't worry, smart ass. You'll get your turn."
Rodney sputtered a little then said, only half-seriously, "You're making a big mistake, you know. And I mean," he held his hands out, "biiig—"
John winced. "Shut up, already."
Rodney smirked, "But you like to do things the hard way, don't you, John?"
"He'll be fine," Ronon said, slapping John's hip. "C'mon. Turn over."
So, he was doing this thing. John squirmed onto his stomach, and he guessed his dick was okay with it after all, because he had to shift or get it bent in half against the mattress. Teyla sidled up next to him once he was settled and kissed him, slow and soft, then deeper, and he drew the back of his hand over her breast and down over her belly, then rubbed his knuckles against her clit, making her squirm. She bit her lower lip and kissed him again, then drew back and smiled, pure sex, and John grinned back.
Something thunked to the mattress beside him, and he glanced down. It was the big bottle of lube, the thick stuff with the squeeze cap. John swallowed and tried to crane his head back to see what Ronon and Rodney were up to. They were wrapped together, whispering about something, probably making plans—
"When I was a young girl on Athos," Teyla said softly, and John had to pay attention, because Teyla hardly ever spoke of her childhood. "I knew a boy—we were so young I barely had a chest to speak of." Her voice dropped even lower. "He was my first. His name was Telon." She smiled fondly. "We brought each other pleasure with our hands and our mouths, but then he wanted to try more."
John nodded, a little apprehensive at the direction she was going in. He kissed her brow, and she drew her hand through his hair in reassurance. "At first I didn't want to. I was like a boy, you see, rough and wild, and I played all the same games, fought with them, bested them all, and our bodies were so similar except here," she pressed her hand against John's, pushing herself against his fingers. "I wasn't sure I wanted to be so different." She stared into John's eyes as if pleading for him to understand.
John nodded and swallowed harshly. Tried to speak. "You thought it would change you."
She rewarded him with a kiss, then said, her voice still almost a whisper, "I didn't understand that a man could receive in the same way a woman can."
Heat burrowed in John's chest, and he curled his arm around her. "Okay," he said, leaning their foreheads together. "Okay."
"You guys ready?" Ronon said, and the bed dipped. Then Rodney was urging John to lift up so he could push a pillow under John's hips, which felt awkward until he settled down onto his elbows, a pillow under his face. Teyla joined him on the pillow, her fingers back in his hair, and then Ronon was nudging between John's legs.
It felt weird, and the blood rushed to John's face—he was conscious of his ass in the air, and of Ronon and Rodney behind and beside him, Rodney's hands petting his back and Ronon's on his ass cheeks.
"His ass is too small," Rodney complained. "Seriously, Sheppard, all that running is making your ass disappear."
"Looks fine to me," Ronon said, and John felt him squeeze. "Firm and smooth. Good tone." John's face got even hotter. Ronon had big hands, and they were warm and slightly calloused.
When John opened his eyes, Teyla was grinning at him. "It is a very fine ass, John. Do not listen to Rodney."
"Hand me the stuff," Ronon said, and even though Teyla kissed him just then, John could hear the burping squish of the bottle, and he tensed up in spite of himself.
"John," Teyla said, "be easy." She ran her fingers through his hair, but he closed his eyes, not wanting to see her watching him. He felt Ronon pushing his cheeks apart and then the slick slide of something pressing against his asshole—it felt like Ronon's thumb—rubbing around and around. It didn't feel bad, but it was his ass, and sexy and his ass weren't usually connected in his head.
Teyla drew his hand back down to her pussy and, glad to be distracted, he palmed her mound the way she liked.
Ronon seemed to think he was slick enough, or relaxed enough, because he pushed two of his fingers inside John's ass. John jerked in spite of himself, but then relaxed when there was no pain. Just—it was Ronon's fingers, sliding a little deeper. Strange.
"In me," Teyla whispered against his lips. He opened his eyes and slipped two fingers inside her, consciously imitating Ronon's rhythm, in, then out.
Teyla moaned softly.
She was wet and warm inside, and suddenly he wanted to fuck her.
"Easy, John," Ronon said just before his fingers sank a lot deeper, and there it was—John had halfway been expecting it, remembering too many uncomfortable Air Force med exams, but this was different, softer, subtler, a growing warmth and pleasure behind his balls. He shifted his hips, seeking—
John moaned quietly.
"Yeah, John," Ronon said, "that's it." He sounded eager, younger somehow. He wanted to fuck. John shivered.
Rodney said something John couldn't quite hear, but he sounded excited too, and John realized he was watching. It made John's neck heat up, made him shift some more, arching his back, and he kissed Teyla again, wanting something, anything—God, he was so turned on right now, and he didn't understand it. It was so...different.
He felt ready to go—in some direction, or somewhere. He just didn't know where.
The bed shifted, and then John felt another hand—Rodney's, he realized—God, those were Rodney's fingers joining Ronon's, two of them slipping in alongside, and John felt full, stretched. His body was humming, with all three of them touching him, Teyla kissing him, so hot under his hand, and he broke away from her mouth to say, "Yeah. Okay. All right, already."
His heart was pounding a little hard, like he was pre-flight before testing the Osprey, or in the command chair right before they were about to launch Atlantis away from Earth. He could feel the blood heavy in his wrists, in his cock, pulsing through his temples, as Ronon shifted closer behind him and nudged his legs further apart.
Then the fingers were gone, and there was just Ronon's cock pressing up against him, pushing hard, pushing in.
Ronon made a deep sound of pleasure that Rodney seemed to echo.
John gasped, because, yeah, he should've, maybe—except then Ronon's cock opened him wider, impossibly, and then somehow more easily, even though the stretch was making John's eyes water a little.
When he blinked, Teyla was smiling at him ruefully, knowingly, and he grinned back suddenly, wanting to laugh. But then, Oh.
John arched his back. "God, Ronon."
Ronon grunted and pulled back and then thrust in, then again, grabbing John's hips and pulling him onto his cock—it felt like he was owning John's body, taking it over. It was nothing like sex was supposed to be. He moaned and grabbed at the mattress a little desperately.
Rodney chuckled. "I know. Idiot. You've been missing out, I'm telling you." He stroked John's side and said, his voice a little husky, "John, I swear, if you could see the view right now, the way you're taking his—"
"Jesus, Rodney." John was afraid to hear it, because every nerve was reporting in—all good things, but he blinked at Teyla, who kissed him suddenly, fiercely, and he drew her as close as he could, kissing her back, and then reached down with one hand and started touching her again, palm flush against her, sinking his fingers inside her just the way she liked, fucking her while Ronon fucked him.
God, Ronon really was fucking him now. Slowly but surely the rhythm started carrying him upward, pressing him down onto the pillow, and he hiked his ass a little higher and that was even better—so much better.
Ronon seemed to approve, because he shortened his strokes, shoving against John's butt, his cockhead working inside John's ass, smooth and warm and hard, pressing up behind his balls and making him gasp because it was so good, so good. He liked it.
John spread his knees wider and said, "Go for it," because he could tell Ronon was holding back; John knew what that was like.
But Ronon just leaned over him and said, "I like it like this," and nuzzled his cheek, and kept on fucking him smooth and easy and rolling his hips. Ronon was so excellent at this. John had seen him fucking Rodney so he knew it; knew Ronon could go for a long time, too, and just the thought made John's cock jerk, took him up even higher, even closer to the top, but he needed something more.
He pressed his forehead against the pillow and focused on stroking into Teyla, three fingers now, the bones of his palm rubbing circles on her clit, and after a minute he felt her start to come, felt her clutching around his fingers, and it was like he could feel it around his cock. But it was her cries of pleasure, her voice shivering into his ears that finally pushed him over.
"Fuck," John moaned, and felt himself clench up hard, and then it was all good, he was overwhelmed, he was flying, and distantly he heard Ronon groan, but there was no let up—Ronon kept fucking him right through it, and he hadn't known it would be so amazing, coming while still being fucked, but it gave him something to hold onto while his body shook and shivered and kept on coming, over and over, until he shuddered down safe into a sweaty mess.
He kind of felt like a jerk collapsing like that, because Ronon hadn't finished, but then Ronon pushed in hard, one-two-three-four times, and went still with a quiet gasp—some day, John thought, they were going to get the big guy to yell.
"God," John said directly into the pillow.
Ronon mumbled something in agreement, and John tried hard to move, turn over, because Rodney hadn't come yet, but then a second later Rodney let out a moan and something warm and wet splattered onto John's back.
"Real nice there, McKay." John twisted around to smirk at Rodney, who was red-faced but unrepentant.
"I'm sorry? But that was hot! I couldn't help myself."
"Get ready," Ronon said, and before John could say anything, Ronon was pulling out—slowly, but it was painful all the same, and John buried his face in the pillow to muffle his groan. He felt Teyla's hand in his hair again, and he turned his head to look at her.
"Are you all right?" She stared at him intently.
"Just peachy. Except somebody better go get a towel or something."
"Yes, yes. Bitch, bitch." Rodney leaned over to give John a kiss. John hooked his hand around Rodney's neck and made it a good one. Then he shoved Rodney toward the bathroom.
He was kind of trapped on his stomach until he got cleaned up, so he relaxed back down on his pillow. Ronon had gotten rid of the condom and settled on his other side, and now he laid an arm across John's shoulders.
"Good?"
"Sure. It was a trip." John grabbed his hand and kissed the inside of his wrist, then rubbed his cheek against Ronon's palm. "Thanks. You were awesome."
He wasn't really sure just when he'd want to do it again, but he was pretty sure he did. Yeah, it had been different, but different could be good, too. Different was fine.
Just look at the four of them.
"Say, Rodney, could you bring some glasses? I think we're ready for that champagne."
When he turned back to Teyla, she was smiling.
End.
