Anniversary Amnesty Drabbles Prompts 1-5
May. 23rd, 2012 10:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
danceswithgary posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
sga_saturdayTitle: SGA Saturday Anniversary Amnesty Drabbles Prompts 1-5
Author: danceswithgary
Pairing: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Rating: G to R
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 5x100
Summary: A set of unrelated drabbles created based on the weekly prompts for SGA Saturday.
For week #1: Coffee
Good Morning
John had had started making his plans weeks ago, shortly after reading through Rodney's personnel file. Along with proof that Rodney really was as smart as he claimed to be, and that he'd spent some time in exile like John, John had noted Rodney's birthday. With Atlantis still cut off from Earth, the pickings were slim when it came to gifts, so John had to use creative bartering to get what he needed.
Being able to wake Rodney up with a kiss - before presenting him with fresh-baked cinnamon rolls and the best coffee John could finesse - was an unexpected bonus.
For week #2: Rain
Long Trudge Home
Thick, black mud threatens to take Rodney's boots hostage with each slogging step, its heavy weight dragging at the end of exhausted legs. His arrhythmic stumbling pounds out 'hot bath, hot bath' punctuated by splashes through puddles, which seems counterintuitive considering the amount of water streaming from the sky, the surrounding trees, and his clothes.
John's voice cuts through Rodney's waterlogged haze. "Almost there, buddy. You okay?"
It's too much trouble to do anything but nod, but then there's a supporting hand under his elbow. Blinking sodden eyelashes, Rodney offers a grateful smile, 'hot bath with John' his new cadence.
For week #3: Conduit
High Voltage
A cascade of sparks follows every pass of Rodney's hand, the electric sting awakening every piece of naked flesh it grazes. John arches into each searing erotic caress, whimpering against his restraints, dreading yet straining for more. Rodney ignores the begging, intent on his own inexplicable plan for John's pleasurable pain.
Rodney thinks higher at the device in his palm, earning a harsh, "Fuck," for the arc that snaps against John's nipple. With a wicked grin, Rodney trails down to circle the tip of John's cock with a shimmer of violet-tipped current, triggering a groaning explosion.
Then Rodney begins again.
For week #4: Orange
Juiced
"Why is this happening?" Rodney turned away from the mirror to frown in John's direction. "I drank the purple punch thing because you said the other one had citrus in it."
John nodded. "And you drank a lot of it. You should be looking like Violette Beaureguard, not an Oompa Loompa."
"Willy Wonka? Gene Wilder or Johnny Depp?"
"Wilder all the way. He owned bug-eyed crazy." John smirked as he tugged a reluctant Rodney out of the bathroom. "Come on, Carson might have something to remove a fake tan."
"He'd better. I'd rather not have my skin match my fleece."
For week #5: Sense
Perceptible
Bereft of light, all sound subdued deep underground, they feel their way around rough-hewn dungeon walls to reach each other, hands outstretched to touch fingertips, grasp hands, and then cling tight. The scent of coffee and burnt wiring anchors John in the crook of Rodney's neck while Rodney rests against John's shoulder after a whiskery rasp across his lips.
An immeasurable time later, they blink under harsh lemon-scented sunlight, birdsong and laughter sharp across their skin, too many bodies too close, sour against parched tongues. Freed, declared well enough, Rodney's room is their refuge, safe together beneath soft, clean blankets.
Author: danceswithgary
Pairing: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Rating: G to R
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 5x100
Summary: A set of unrelated drabbles created based on the weekly prompts for SGA Saturday.
For week #1: Coffee
Good Morning
John had had started making his plans weeks ago, shortly after reading through Rodney's personnel file. Along with proof that Rodney really was as smart as he claimed to be, and that he'd spent some time in exile like John, John had noted Rodney's birthday. With Atlantis still cut off from Earth, the pickings were slim when it came to gifts, so John had to use creative bartering to get what he needed.
Being able to wake Rodney up with a kiss - before presenting him with fresh-baked cinnamon rolls and the best coffee John could finesse - was an unexpected bonus.
For week #2: Rain
Long Trudge Home
Thick, black mud threatens to take Rodney's boots hostage with each slogging step, its heavy weight dragging at the end of exhausted legs. His arrhythmic stumbling pounds out 'hot bath, hot bath' punctuated by splashes through puddles, which seems counterintuitive considering the amount of water streaming from the sky, the surrounding trees, and his clothes.
John's voice cuts through Rodney's waterlogged haze. "Almost there, buddy. You okay?"
It's too much trouble to do anything but nod, but then there's a supporting hand under his elbow. Blinking sodden eyelashes, Rodney offers a grateful smile, 'hot bath with John' his new cadence.
For week #3: Conduit
High Voltage
A cascade of sparks follows every pass of Rodney's hand, the electric sting awakening every piece of naked flesh it grazes. John arches into each searing erotic caress, whimpering against his restraints, dreading yet straining for more. Rodney ignores the begging, intent on his own inexplicable plan for John's pleasurable pain.
Rodney thinks higher at the device in his palm, earning a harsh, "Fuck," for the arc that snaps against John's nipple. With a wicked grin, Rodney trails down to circle the tip of John's cock with a shimmer of violet-tipped current, triggering a groaning explosion.
Then Rodney begins again.
For week #4: Orange
Juiced
"Why is this happening?" Rodney turned away from the mirror to frown in John's direction. "I drank the purple punch thing because you said the other one had citrus in it."
John nodded. "And you drank a lot of it. You should be looking like Violette Beaureguard, not an Oompa Loompa."
"Willy Wonka? Gene Wilder or Johnny Depp?"
"Wilder all the way. He owned bug-eyed crazy." John smirked as he tugged a reluctant Rodney out of the bathroom. "Come on, Carson might have something to remove a fake tan."
"He'd better. I'd rather not have my skin match my fleece."
For week #5: Sense
Perceptible
Bereft of light, all sound subdued deep underground, they feel their way around rough-hewn dungeon walls to reach each other, hands outstretched to touch fingertips, grasp hands, and then cling tight. The scent of coffee and burnt wiring anchors John in the crook of Rodney's neck while Rodney rests against John's shoulder after a whiskery rasp across his lips.
An immeasurable time later, they blink under harsh lemon-scented sunlight, birdsong and laughter sharp across their skin, too many bodies too close, sour against parched tongues. Freed, declared well enough, Rodney's room is their refuge, safe together beneath soft, clean blankets.
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Date: 2012-05-24 02:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-24 03:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-24 03:41 am (UTC)And I'm giggling at the thought of the mud taking Rodney's boots hostage ::shudders with yuck:: and delighted to know that John's there to lend a supportive hand. Plus, I second the thought of a "hot bath with John"!
All in all, a lovely use of nuanced, highly-descriptive (and suggestive) words!
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