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See Part One for header information.


 

The next morning Rodney found Karen and Dave sharing breakfast with their two boys.  There were some quick introductions, but Rodney’s mind was on the buffet of eggs, bacon, biscuits, sausage and a fruit salad that was totally citrus free.  The place obviously had invisible servants.  The boys quickly ran off, babbling about riding and Rodney sat down in one of their vacated chairs, his plate piled high. 

 

"No sign of John yet," Karen said.

 

"Oh he’ll be out running some alarming number of miles.  He’ll turn up," Rodney said before applying himself to his biscuits.  "No gravy huh?" Rodney said sadly.

 

"You like biscuits and gravy Dr. McKay?"  Karen was surprised.

 

"Please, it’s Rodney.  I only insist that underlings and stupid people call me Doctor.  To answer your question, I’ve worked on military bases for years.  It’s not uncommon for the cooks to be southern, a heavy proportion of the men too.  Biscuits and gravy, grits, fried buttermilk chicken.  Best food ever."

 

"Oooh, if I’d known, I’d have had the cook make some grits.  No one else will eat them.  We don’t have gravy too often though.  Dave’s doctor always makes dire sounds about cholesterol."

 

Rodney crunched through his third piece of bacon and waved off the idea of worrying about cholesterol.

 

John showed up, fresh from his shower and sat down with a large glass of orange juice.  Rodney chose to ignore this provocation in favour of more bacon.  Dave asked how far John had run.

 

John made a grimace and said, "I’m embarrassed to say, not up to my usual distance.  I guess I need Ronon running ahead taunting me to push myself." 

 

The two of them launched into some incomprehensible, to Rodney, conversation about workouts and running that led to some more babble about football.  Rodney rolled his eyes and Karen giggled at him quietly. 

 

Dave was suggesting John show Rodney the stables, and John was making agreeing noises, so Rodney had to kill that horrible idea before it could become a plan.  "Just what I need, a trip to hay fever hell, maybe I’ll only cough up one lung, but I’m still not willing to risk it."

 

"Well Rodney," John said, kicking him under the table, "if you think your delicate constitution is up to a walk on the big scary lawn, it is a nice day out."

 

"Might be survivable."

 

John dragged him through the French doors and across a patio and down onto the first tier of grass. 

 

"It seems weird to be outside without a TAC vest and a sidearm," Rodney commented.

 

"Not likely anything to shoot." John pointed him to a stone wall that overlooked the lower tier of lawn.  They leaned on it in silence.

 

"This has been much less horrible than I thought it would be," John said after a while.

 

"Last night was fun actually.  Right up to when it wasn’t, but that wasn’t an actual disaster either so…"

 

"You actually like Karen.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen you meet a woman and just like her in that low-key kind of way before."

 

"Teyla," Rodney said.

 

"What would you think about taking off today?" John asked him.

 

"Leave on a high note, nice dinner, nice breakfast, friendly little chat and then hit the gas?  Sounds good to me.  Not my call though."

 

"You got a plan for this trip?  Charts graphs, itineraries?"

 

"Nope, figured we could point the car west, turn north at some convenient point, whatever."

 

"You want to drive through Canada at all, or just head for the coast?"

 

"The drive from Calgary through the mountains is nice, but to do that we would have to pass alarmingly close to Colorado and I’m not too in the mood for that or all the boring fields of wheat either."

 

"West it is then.  Pacific coast is a fun drive.  Hey we could go to Vegas." 

 

"Did that a couple of times when I worked at Area 51," Rodney said.  "Got kicked out of a couple of places for counting cards."

 

"Ha, figures.  Grand Canyon maybe."

 

"Could do that."

 

"Um," John stopped.  Rodney turned to look at him.

 

"This trip, how many rooms are we going to be needing?" John asked the top of the wall.

 

"Two of course," Rodney answered

 

"Oh, yeah, of course."  John flashed his charming smile at Rodney and made to walk away.

 

Rodney grabbed his wrist and reeled him back in, pressed him up against the low wall.  "First of all, you fucker, you don’t ever show me that plastic little fake smile ever again.  You can use that mask on your family, random bimbos in bars and planetary potentates, but not me or this thing is never going anywhere, clear?"

 

John blinked at him, shocked by the vehemence.  "Um, yeah okay. Fair enough. Thing?"

 

"Second," Rodney ploughed on, ignoring the question he didn’t want to answer, "it may have escaped your notice, but the SGC does monitor the activities of SGA personnel on leave.  They don’t put tails on anyone or monitor our transmitters, well not after I ripped Landry a new one over that, but they do check expense reports for signs of security breaches so yes, two rooms; one on your government card and one on mine.  I just happen to have a pile of cash I pulled out of one of my more obscure bank accounts, and I plan on upgrading my room to a very nice private suite with a Jacuzzi all off the record but no one else needs to know that."

 

"Okay, putting aside the whole Jacuzzi thing for a minute, they monitor expense reports?  You know this for a fact?" John was relaxed again now that he had a tactical objective to focus on.

 

"Yes," Rodney sighed.  He might as well go with the conversational flow.  John was not going to let this go and yes, maybe he should have filled John in on this before now, but it wasn’t really a military matter.  "It’s not really a military matter.  You know Dr. Stewart?  Big blond guy? Turns out the big and blond is down to his mother being Dutch.  Last leave Stew, don’t what the hell his first name is, anyway he took off to visit the family or so he told the SGC.  According to the review of his expense reports, unless his family are all Amsterdam potheads and hookers, he never even called them on the phone.  Landry and the IOA both wanted him fired.  I spent precious hours of my life I will never get back arguing with them over that crap.  I tried logic, big mistake; I tried explaining that their quaint American Puritanism wasn’t really relevant in Pegasus.  Finally I mocked up a very convincing deposition that contained my testimony in absentia for Stewart’s wrongful dismissal suit.  When their lawyers told them the guy had a case and his taking it to court would likely out the Stargate program, they wised the fuck up.  That was all Zelenka’s idea by the way.  He got out of some contract with the Russians by using a similar trick.  Upshot of this is that expenses are reviewed for genuine security purposes, not for evidence of a taste for legalized prostitution."

 

"Wow, I think I’m glad you don’t tell me everything actually.  I think I would have tried to get in the middle of that one and ended up fucking it up."

 

"They’re always surprised, military brass and empty suits like Woolsey, when you fight them dirty.  They have no idea how much muck you have to fucking shovel to get a PhD.  Assholes."  Rodney took a deep breath.  "John I have to tell you something, in the interests of full and honest disclosure." 

 

John waved a wary hand for him to continue. 

 

"I really want to kiss you right now."

 

"Um," John said, "I think we’re being watched."  He waved to the French Doors, mirrors in the sun.

 

"Please, I don’t think they’d be shocked, we did dinner with the in-laws last night for fuck’s sake."

 

"Not shocked no, just terribly disappointed in my lack of discretion," John said.

 

Rodney made a rude noise to indicate his feelings on discretion. "Not what’s stopping me.  What’s stopping me is the fucking gallon of orange juice you poured down your throat.  Asshole." He turned on the last word and ambled back into the house, knowing just how good his ass looked in his oldest pair of jeans.

 

Rodney was still sauntering just inside the guest room, when he heard the thunder of running feet.  Six hollow cracks as long legs ate up the stairs.  He had thought enough to make his body relax, not tense against the impact when John ploughed into him and brought him down bouncing onto the bed.  John was laughing, grabbing at his arms and rolling him over on to his back.  Rodney let him.  John hooked his leg over Rodney’s legs and bent his head low to Rodney’s ear. "I could brush my teeth, if I thought it might be worth my while."  His breath tickled.  Rodney went limp.  John brought one hand up and let it fall softly to Rodney’s cheek.  He ran his thumb in circles over Rodney’s lips.  Rodney smiled, fluttered his eyes shut.  Sighed.  John was tensing just slightly.  Rodney, realizing he'd nearly blown it by waiting too long, heaved up pushing with his strength and his mass.  He flipped John over and snatched his hands to pin over their heads.  Rodney ground his hips against John in the lewdest way he knew how.  John was all black-eyed and interested now. 

 

"I am not fucking you for the first time in the house where you spent your angsty teenaged years."  Rodney bounced to his feet and John made a little whiney noise and tried a few seductive sprawls.  "Hotels exist for a reason," Rodney told him in his best stubborn voice. 

 

"Fine, how soon can you be packed?" John tried licking his lips suggestively.

 

"Already am," Rodney told him smugly and jerked his chin at the suitcase sitting neatly by the door.

 

"Smug bastard."  John rolled off the bed and headed for the bathroom. "I’ll just go have a cold shower and then pack up.  Shouldn’t take more than half an hour, unless I die of frustration first."

 

"I’ll be sure to hang a commemorative set of blue balls on the Stargate when I get back."

 

"Asshole," floated out through the open bathroom doors.

 

Rodney avoided the awkward looking goodbye scene in the driveway by firmly shutting the car door and fiddling productively with the radio.  Soon they were winding through some secondary highways, classic rock blasting out the windows.  John turned onto a highway that seemed to be pointing not quite in the direction they were headed.  Rodney decided to go with it, if they hit the Gulf of Mexico, he’d worry, or maybe just order some jambalaya.  In a few hours the signs on the highway were pointing out this and that in Roanoke Virginia. 

 

"I could eat," Rodney said.  "Find a drive-through maybe."

 

"Room service?" John started changing lanes.

 

"Mmmm, even better."

 

They made a pit stop at a strip mall off the highway.  John refused to go in the drugstore with Rodney; he wandered off towards a liquor store instead.  Two blocks down the road found them at a decent chain hotel.  They booked into two basic rooms and then John stepped back and watched as Rodney pulled out his wallet.  The clerk was quickly confused by what he wanted, so Rodney rolled his eyes at her and beckoned the manager over.  A few green American bills crossed the counter and Rodney’s key card was exchanged for one to a corner suite with a king-sized bed, wifi and a Jacuzzi.

 

They rode up in the elevator together, Rodney watched John wander down the hall on his floor before the door closed and the elevator took Rodney up a few more floors.  Rodney checked the bed in his own room, found it gratifyingly hard and got to work with the room service menu.  A knock on the door brought him John Sheppard carrying a shaving kit and the liquor store bag.  "Even better than room service."  Rodney smirked at him.

 

"Just one hooker joke and I’m out of here."  John pushed past him, plunked a bottle of scotch on the desk and disappeared into the bathroom. 

 

Some more irritatingly monochromatic American money dealt with room service and John slunk back out of the bathroom carrying two glasses.  He paused to blow a draft of toothpaste scented air Rodney’s way and said, "See, minty fresh."

 

They split up the plate of room service sandwiches and Rodney threw in one of the bags of chips he had been hoarding for the road.  Two generous fingers of Glen-something chased it all down nicely.  John watched pensively as Rodney finished off the last sandwich.  "Do you want another drink?" Rodney asked him.

 

"No," John said abruptly and stood up. 

 

Rodney thought for one horrible second he was going to leave.  Instead he pulled his tee shirt off with one smooth movement and then tossed it across the room. "Ok, so I am extremely nervous here, so could we skip straight to the part where you um…" John made some sort of vague motion towards the bed.

 

Remembering a certain black-eyed look, Rodney wasted no time.  He jumped up, got a towing grip on John’s belt and shoved hard when they got close enough to the bed.  John landed with a bounce arms above his head and his legs trailing to the floor.  Rodney climbed aboard and braced his hands on each side of John’s head.  Slowly he lowered his head turning at the last second to brush his nose down the length of John’s cheek.  He delicately nipped at the point of his chin and pulled back enough to run his tongue quickly over John’s bottom lip.  When John opened his mouth, Rodney pulled back and smiled lazily.

 

John made a frustrated noise and writhed a bit.  Rodney repeated the nose trick on the other side of John’s face, ending with a nibble down his neck.  He brought his lips down in the lightest barest kiss and pulled back easily.  John tried to chase him, and made another frustrated noise when Rodney pulled farther out of reach.  Rodney pulled up so far he wasn’t touching John at all, just looming over him on his hands and knees.  He flicked a glance at the rapid rise and fall of John’s chest and then focused on his eyes, he had all the time in the world here.

 

John’s pupils pulsed wider, just like a cat about to pounce and this time it was John surging up, flipping Rodney over with his whole body and bearing him down deep into the mattress.  Hands turned his head and John was kissing him, tongue shoving into his mouth.  The body holding him down was writhing wildly, sending sparks shooting deep in his belly.  He slid his hands up the bare fever hot skin of John’s back and raked back down with his nails.  John freed his mouth and let out a groan, he was writhing around so much that he was effectively humping Rodney’s leg.  Rodney got as tight a grip as he could get on John’s ass and stilled him. John collapsed panting against Rodney’s neck.  "Got a little crazy there." 

 

"Naked and crazy works better," Rodney said softly, hands moving to caress the bare skin again. 

 

John pulled himself up and got to work loosening Rodney’s belt and jeans.  He pulled on Rodney’s shirt and got it over his head.  He slid back off the bed tugging Rodney’s pants off as he went.  John yanked the socks off his feet and stood back to whisk off his own pants.  He gave Rodney a strange look and pulled his underwear off and stood with hands twitching, looking the way he always did when he didn’t have pockets to shove them into.  Rodney tugged meaningfully at the waistband of his own boxers and looked at John.

 

"Lazy bastard." John smiled at him and pulled while Rodney obligingly lifted his ass.  John eyed him up, taking his measure so to speak, looking more horny and less tense by the minute.  He stuck out one long foot and tested the spring of the carpet experimentally.  He quirked a smile at whatever he was seeing on Rodney’s face and then Rodney was sliding down the bed, ass nearly hanging over the edge, before John dropped Rodney's legs and then dropped between them.  He kept dropping, letting his mouth fall right over Rodney’s cock and Rodney was groaning and John was sucking him hard. 

 

Rodney was either going to die of a heart attack or come in an embarrassingly short time.  John took that choice right away by going down a little farther bobbing back up and bringing one hand up to tickle Rodney’s balls.  Rodney was coming and quite possibly screaming in a distressingly high register. 

 

John crawled up beside him, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and then slapped his hard cock against Rodney’s thigh with an impudent smirk.  Rodney couldn’t summon up too much interest in investigating the feel of the carpet under his knees, so he shoved John flat and got his hand on John’s cock.  He rolled over, propping himself on one elbow for a better view and jacked him slowly, pausing to tease at all the sensitive spots.  This got him a string of nonsense obscenities and some nice moaning so Rodney sped up and John started to writhe again.  He kept up the pace and then backed off, teasing some more. 

 

"You fucker," John moaned at him, "harder, faster, fuck."

 

Rodney sped up and John bucked his hips into the rhythm until he was coming in hard spurts.  Rodney let him cool down for a minute and then he leaned in and whispered, "Next time, I’ll keep changing it up until you’re begging me to let you come."

 

"Asshole," John said.

 

Rodney got himself walking and went to clean up.  He brought John back a towel and threw it at him.  John jerked when it landed on his face.  Rodney snagged the scotch and the glasses off the desk and sat, back to the headboard and poured himself a very well deserved post coital drink.  John crawled up beside him and wound one arm around Rodney’s legs and went to sleep with his face pressed against Rodney's hip. 

 

Rodney was installed on the sofa, laptop warm against bare legs, drink handy, table covered in the remains of some more room service food.  He could hear John’s small movements of wakefulness.  He saw an impression of white flashing in the light of the one feeble lamp.  John was swinging his legs up and off the bed.  He wandered into the bathroom.  He returned in a few minutes damp in places, still naked.  He settled onto the sofa next to Rodney.

 

"I slept through supper?"

 

"Just some more sandwiches, didn’t want to wake you.  There’s a couple left in the world’s smallest fridge over there."

 

John glanced at the door behind them with a tiny frown.

 

"Don’t worry, you can’t see the bed from the door.  No one got a look at your bony ass."

 

"Is not."

 

"No, it isn’t surprisingly enough.  Nice handful."

 

John was possibly blushing a little bit. "Did you at least put some clothes on, or did you give the guy a good look at all your nice handfuls?"

 

"I swear I was properly attired and modestly covered at all times."  Rodney rolled his head along the back of the sofa and rolled his shoulders.

 

"That’s not work is it?" John pointed at the laptop.

 

"No.   Really no," Rodney said to John’s sceptical face.  "I’m just goofing around, trying to give my brain a rest this trip.  I think I’m more tired than I realized."

 

"Me too," John agreed.  "Well obviously." He pointed at the bed he’d just slept the evening away in.

 

"Eat," Rodney told him, getting up to head for the bathroom.  "I’m going to try out the Jacuzzi."

 

"Seriously?"

 

"Yeah, It feels good on my back."

 

Rodney came back into the room, pink everywhere and nicely relaxed.  John was on the bed watching TV.  "What’s on?"

 

"House."

 

"Oh?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"Don’t see the appeal of that show."

 

"No explosions," John nodded.

 

Rodney found his glass and climbed on the bed.  He waved the empty glass significantly and John poured him the last of the scotch.  They watched the rest of the show.  John idly flipped through the channels for a while.  "You buy anything at that drugstore other than chips?" he asked while watching something explode on the screen.

 

"Sunscreen," Rodney answered casually.

 

"Asshole."  John changed the channel; the explosion had given way to exposition.

 

Rodney clambered over John to set his empty glass on the nightstand.  He snatched the drugstore bag out of the drawer and dropped in on John’s lap.  John fished around it.  Rodney stole the remote and started trolling for more explosions.

 

"Who needs three kinds of sunscreen?"

 

"One word for you - convertible."  Rodney paused on a car chase.

 

"Yeah, I’m gonna put the top down tomorrow."  John sighed happily.

 

Rodney turned to John and saw he had pulled out the box of condoms and was raising a dubious brow.

 

"Do we, uh…" John waved the box at him.

 

"Need to?  No, not as far as I’m concerned, no one on Earth has blood tests as often as we do, but I didn’t want to presume and some people prefer for - you know."

 

"Ummm."  John stuffed the box back in the bag, came up with the two bottles of lube and began reading the labels.

 

"I was planning on writing up a brand comparison study.  Maybe do up a quick grant proposal for it tomorrow." Rodney watched John’s face, looking for any clue as to what he was thinking.

 

John turned to him and grinned.  "What do you pay your lab assistants?"

 

"Corn chips and scotch, you interested?"

 

John lazily ran his hand down and caressed his own cock, which started to perk right up at the attention. "I could be.  Pretty quickly I think."

 

Rodney stared at him for a second then he rolled over and shimmied down the bed until he could lie flat, head on his arms.  He spread his legs invitingly.  He was expecting John to get right down to business.  He was not expecting John to run a hand softly down his back, sliding over the crest of his ass and then bend to softly kiss the small of his back.  Rodney made a small surprised murmur that John took as encouragement.

 

John spent forever running his hands lightly over Rodney’s back, his ass, his legs.  He followed with brushes of his lips, scrapes of teeth.  He soon had Rodney twitching at every touch, gasping as teeth and tongue and nails rasped against his skin.  When John suddenly kneaded his ass with a firm hand, Rodney groaned and spread his legs wide.  John teased him with a dry finger and Rodney groaned a little louder.  "I wonder if I could make you beg?" John said quietly.

 

Rodney responded by bucking up his hips.  "You want to hear it John?  I want you.  I want you to fuck me.  I want you inside me.  Please, fuck me."

 

"Fuck," John said and Rodney heard the cap of the lube pop open. 

 

Rodney stayed splayed out flat while John got him opened up and slick.  When he was more than ready, aching for it in fact, he pulled his legs up and got his ass in the air.  John was slicked up and pushing inside and this, this was all he had been thinking about all evening.  Everything he’d wanted and said nothing about.  He let John set the pace, do whatever he wanted.  John wanted it nice and easy, not frantic, not out of control, not too slow either.  Rodney let him.  He spared a thought for the miles of America they had ahead of them and all the time he had to get John to lose control and go crazy again.  He let himself get lost in the sensation of here and now with John sliding firmly in and out, starting to pant lightly now.  Rodney shifted himself slightly and John was rubbing over his prostate with every thrust and Rodney was moaning low in his throat.  John shifted his weight onto one hand and reached around and grasped Rodney’s cock with a sure grip. "Want to feel you.  Come for me," John whispered in his ear. 

 

Rodney obliged him by shooting come over John’s hand, his legs started to wobble and John grabbed his hips to keep him steady.  A few short hard thrusts and John was pulsing inside him, groaning softly, fingers clenched tightly around his hips.  John managed to fall sideways and pull Rodney with him as he slid free.  He wrapped his arm tight around Rodney and pressed his mouth to the back of Rodney’s neck.  Rodney relaxed back against John and John relaxed his death grip to something almost easy.

Part Four


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