||[Aug. 31st, 2008|02:28 am]
Title: I Ronon|
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: John Sheppard/Rodney McKay/Ronon Dex
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be and never were.
Word Count: 1,523 words
Summary: John asks Rodney if he could build a fucking machine...
Author’s Notes: For kink_bingo, prompt: fucking machines. Title stolen and adapted from I Robot.
“Could you build something like that?”
Rodney looked up from his tablet computer at the question, to stare at John, who was sitting on his bed, his back leaned against the wall and his elbow brushing against Ronon, who was staring at John’s laptop with the same air of fascination around him he usually reserved for new and exciting weapons. “What?” he asked, his thoughts still a million light years away and moving at high speed.
John shrugged and squinted at him and then back to the laptop he was balancing on his knees. “I just asked if you could build something like that?”
He nodded toward the screen of the laptop, which was, of course, turned away from Rodney, but Rodney wasn’t the smartest man in two galaxies for nothing. He was able to follow a conversation while working on the puddlejumpers’ problem with the cloaking device.
Plus, two touches to his own computer brought the picture John was staring at to his screen, to let him catch up on what the other man was talking about, in the first place.
He rolled his eyes.
“A what, a fucking machine?” he asked.
John looked slightly uncomfortable for a second, but then he set his jaw and nodded determinedly. Rodney opened his mouth to give him a scathing reply – of course he could build something as simple as a fucking machine, even one that was better than anything else John could even imagine – when a second thought crossed his mind.
“I could,” he said slowly. “But why should I?”
He put his computer down on the desk and stood. His back protested slightly when he stretched the kinks out, but he didn’t pay too much attention to it.
“Why?” John asked. He seemed amused, Rodney noticed as he stalked toward the bed and crawled on it; amused and a bit turned on, with his eyes dark and his tongue slipping over his bottom lip to moisten it.
“You don’t need me to build you a fucking machine,” Rodney pointed out irritably while crawling up John’s legs, pushing the laptop carefully aside and putting it down, on the floor, before straddling John’s slim hips. “You already have one.”
“Oh, really?” John asked, but before he could add a second word, Rodney’s hands were on his face, tilting him upwards and kissing him hungrily.
Rodney felt the mattress shift under them, but his tongue was just pushing at the right angle into John’s mouth and John’s fingers were running down his chest, so he didn’t pay too much attention to it. He knew who it was, anyways.
“Looks good,” Ronon murmured as he pressed himself against Rodney’s back and nosed along the collar of his shirt. His hands reached around Rodney, wrapping him into a protective Ronon shell, and settled against John’s chest.
“Yeah,” John agreed, his voice half muffled by Rodney’s tongue licking along his bottom lip, and he turned his head away slightly. Rodney ducked to the side, kissing along John’s jaw line and biting at his throat slightly, while Ronon took his place and pulled John into a deep kiss.
John moaned deep in his throat when his lovers started to undress him, pulling piece after piece of clothing off his already flushed body and kissing every new revealed patch of skin, with Rodney just bitching minimally about the dark hair covering him. Neither Ronon nor John were paying attention to him anyways. But then, he and Ronon weren’t paying attention to John’s soft whimpers and the way his hands sometimes reached for them either.
They would run the show, and John was just a passenger, swept away by lust and arousal.
He didn’t protest when Ronon tugged him down the bed and got comfortable in between his legs, slowly and patiently stretching him. He just looked up at Rodney with wide eyes, his fingers stroking through Rodney’s hair and using his grip to tug him into another series of deep, long kisses.
“Ready?” Ronon asked after a moment, and John gave him a thumbs up sign. He couldn’t talk, not while Rodney was kissing him deeply, and he didn’t want to pull away either.
Rodney gave him a crooked smile and pulled back – he knew from experience that John would tense slightly when Ronon pushed into him, and he didn’t want to get his tongue almost bitten off again. It had happened once, and that time had been once too often. Rodney didn’t risk his life daily only to die of blood loss and an infection just because his lover bit down too hard on his tongue.
He stepped away from the bed to take off his clothes, his eyes never leaving the two other men. Ronon was crouched between John’s wide-spread legs, pumping his hips slowly and thrusting into him at an unhurried pace. Ronon’s hands looked huge and dark against the paleness of John’s hips.
“Rodney?” John gasped, and Rodney hurried to finish undressing and join them on the bed again. It was a very tight fit, but Rodney moved quickly to straddle John’s chest and lean one hand against the wall above the bed to keep his balance.
“Rodney,” John said again. One of his arms wrapped around Rodney’s hip and pulled him close to his face, and Rodney hurried to oblige him and shift up a little, until the tip of his cock was on one level with John’s mouth.
“You want to…” Rodney started, but before he could finish the sentence, John had taken him in his mouth, his tongue curling wet and velvety over the sensitive head of Rodney’s dick, while his hand wrapped around the length of it and stroking gently.
From his position, Rodney could still feel the gentle thrusts from Ronon, and then, John dragged his teeth carefully along the sensitive underside of his dick, and Rodney found himself talking, the words spilling off his lips like a mantra of “Oh God John don’t stop don’t…”
Ronon chuckled and leaned forwards, changing the angle of penetration and making John moan around the flesh in his mouth. Ronon sucked gently on Rodney’s shoulder, his tongue painting Satedan letters against his broad back, and Rodney was vaguely aware of the fingers running over his body, fingers that couldn’t belong to John, who was still running his hand along the length of Rodney’s dick, slick with spit and pre-come.
He didn’t know how long they stayed like this. He ignored the cramp that was threatening to overwhelm the muscles in his left thigh as orgasm approached him, shuddering down his spine and through his balls and cock and into John’s mouth. John spluttered and struggled to swallow as much as he could, but his eyes had narrowed again, promising Rodney revenge.
He rolled off John and stretched out alongside him, panting slightly into his neck while his fingers splayed out over John’s chest, tweaking a nipple and tugging on the dark hair growing there.
“You okay?” Ronon asked, none in particular, and Rodney hummed while John nodded sharply and clenched his fingers in the blanket underneath him. “Want me to stop?”
“No,” John admitted and shifted. A shiver ran over his body at the sensation of Ronon’s dick pressing into his prostate, and Rodney’s lips turned upward into a smile of triumph. He watched as Ronon picked up speed, fucking deeper and harder into John’s willing and relaxed body, while John wrapped both legs tightly around him and used his grip to pull Ronon even tighter.
Ronon’s orgasm was silent and stealthy, like the man himself, but it came with overwhelming force. John on the other hand couldn’t stop himself from gasping, as if he never saw it coming, and the pinnacle of lust came as some kind of surprise. Rodney loved watching his two lovers like that, when their faces were unguarded, mouths falling open, teeth clenching, eyes pressing shut or being forced open. He loved watching the little tender smile Ronon gave John as he pulled out and licked a broad stripe up John’s stomach, loved to see how John reached out and gently tugged on one of the dreadlocks. He loved feeling John’s other arm wrap around him, pulling him close with all the strength still remaining in his body, and then Ronon was wrapped around them as well, cocooning them and making sure they were safe, even if he didn’t do it consciously.
“See?” Rodney said sleepily, his eyes falling shut on their own.
“What?” John asked back and shifted slightly. Ronon’s leg was pushing its way in between John’s thighs, and Rodney ran his toes along his calf to make him settle down and stop twitching.
“I don’t need to build you a fucking machine. We have Ronon.” He yawned and stretched his back again. A nap couldn’t hurt at this point. “He’s bigger, stronger, he can go on for hours if you let him, and,” he smirked and rolled into John’s side, pride coloring his voice as if Ronon really was just a machine and Rodney had been the one to construct him, “He never runs out of batteries.”