Downthrow by Zoe Rayne [Reviews - 4]
- Text Size +
Category: Slash Pairings > Lorne/Sheppard
Characters: John Sheppard, Major Lorne
Rating: NC-17
Genres: First Time, PWP - Plot, What Plot?
Warnings: None
Series: None
Word count: 3364; Completed: Yes
Summary: Of all the ways to fuck up his career, Nick never even considered this one. [Sheppard/Lorne]
Of all the ways to fuck up his career, Nick never even considered this one. He thought about being caught out under Don't Ask, Don't Tell, and about opening his mouth at the wrong time and saying something too glib to be ignored, and, hell, half a dozen other ways, but honestly, he never even considered this: leaning against the wall of his CO's quarters, his CO kneeling in front of him, eager mouth wrapped around Nick's cock.
Most days he isn't sure whether to love or hate his life in the Pegasus galaxy, but right now, as Sheppard swallows around him, Nick loves it, freaky vampire aliens and all.
He lets his head fall back against the wall, eyes still focused on the stretch of Sheppard's mouth, red and wet, and on the dark crescents of Sheppard's lashes.
They've been doing this for, what, a couple of weeks now? Even so, Nick's still totally bowled over every time Sheppard slides one hand behind his neck and pulls him into a deceptively lazy kiss that leads, inevitably, to them tangled together, naked and sweaty and exhausted on Sheppard's too-narrow bunk.
~*~*~
M6I-274 was a wealthy planet by Pegasus galaxy standards; their soil was rich with both nutrients and minerals, providing an abundance of agricultural products and unrefined ores to trade for medicine or advanced geological engineering expertise, which was how Nick had ended up on the mission.
It was educational, being off-world with Sheppard and his team. Teyla and Ronon were businesslike and prepared, everything Nick had expected of them, so that was no surprise. What was a surprise was McKay. He whined and complained as much as Nick remembered, but Sheppard seemed to ignore it entirely, acting like McKay was as capable as the other members of his team. Weirdly, this seemed to somehow make McKay more capable; the bitching never stopped, but he kept up with the rest of them, one eye on his scanning equipment and the other on their surroundings.
The mission itself was pretty routine. They'd already done some minor trading with these people, so now it was just a matter of figuring out exactly how much knowledge to share with them. Their mining operations were pretty simplistic; if he requisitioned some basic equipment from Earth, Nick could probably double their productivity just by teaching a class in geological field methods. He had the requisition half completed in his head when he and Teyla stepped through the curtain into the main guest tent and found that the party was already in full swing. Sheppard, McKay, and Ronon were settled on the floor, reclining in nests of brightly colored pillows, each with their own small table piled high with bowls and plates and cups.
"Pull up a piece of floor, guys," Sheppard said with a grin. "I'm told the show's about to begin." There was something off about the colonel; his voice was just a little bit too casual, even for Sheppard. The mystery was quickly cleared up when he spoke again, "And take it easy on the fermented not-grape beverage. It's got one hell of a kick."
The mission briefing had given all the pertinent cultural details, but somehow it hadn't truly prepared Nick for the sight of all those half-naked men and women. He ditched his tac vest, tucking it behind and partly beneath him as he sat, because he wasn't about to sacrifice preparedness for comfort, not even among people who were ostensibly friends. Teyla sat on the other side of the remaining small table, and almost immediately they were surrounded by attendants offering a variety of food and drink.
A brunette who couldn't have been much older than twenty-five—about Terri's age, and thinking of his baby sister right now was just weird—knelt next to him and bowed her head briefly. "I'm Jana, and I'm pleased to be attending to your needs." She held out a piece of fruit, obviously expecting him to eat it from her fingers. He shot a quick look at Teyla, who smiled and nodded encouragingly, and then he took the bite as chastely as he could. It was sweet and juicy, and Nick vaguely remembered it as one of the pear-shaped-but-peach-flavored things that they'd traded for previously. Another attendant knelt at Nick's other side and introduced himself as Rafe, then offered Nick a cube of bread dipped in a rich meat broth. Nick took it, but not without feeling even more awkward, and he glanced over at Sheppard to see how he was handling the situation.
Apparently with far fewer qualms than Nick, because he was lounging back against his pile of pillows, legs stretched casually in front of him, and was smiling at his attendants, laughing at something that one of them had said. Beyond him, Ronon had one arm around the waist of the pretty redhead who was dropping bites of sliced vegetable into his mouth and his other hand wasn't visible, but Nick was pretty sure it was somewhere in the vicinity of the backside of the man who was pouring him another goblet of a dark red liquid. And McKay—well, that was the one that really surprised him. A curvy blonde was sitting half in McKay's lap, and as Nick watched McKay took her wrist in one hand, eating the piece of fruit she was offering and then licking the juice from her fingers and making her giggle. Even Teyla looked perfectly comfortable with the situation, accepting it like it wasn't strange or far too close to public sex.
All of which merely served to make Nick acutely aware of his distinctly middle-class, middle-American upbringing. He'd taken the SGC's mandatory cultural sensitivity training, and had been through the Earth stargate dozens of times, but this was the first off-world mission where he found himself really having to fight his knee-jerk cultural assumptions. It might have been different if not for the fact that he knew the attendants were there to provide for any need their visitors might have. It only helped a little that he knew they weren't slaves—were, in fact, the next generation of leaders—and that they not only chose these roles but chose which of the "honored guests" they would serve.
It looked like Ronon and McKay were planning to accept everything their attendants were offering. Well, McKay was paying only minimal attention to the man attending him, but Nick would lay odds that the blonde woman would end up in McKay's tent tonight. Honestly, if the situation had been a little different, or if Nick hadn't been forewarned about the potency of the wine, he might have been okay with finding himself in bed with Rafe, who was long and lean with a feline grace about him—things Nick found almost irresistibly appealing.
Jana held the cup of wine up for him and he took a small, experimental sip. It didn't seem that strong, but he was going to take Sheppard's word for it; getting drunk here, surrounded by temptation, would be a very bad idea. Of course, it didn't seem like Sheppard was particularly worried about that, at least not judging by the way he tipped his cup up, his throat working as he swallowed its contents, and that lack of restraint was out of character for him in Nick's experience. When music started up—something vaguely Middle Eastern, except with Celtic-sounding flutes and something that might have been a banjo—Nick split his attention between the dancers and Sheppard, only realizing a few minutes into the entertainment that he'd stopped being hyperaware of Jana and Rafe's fingers feeding him bites of fruit and meat and sauce-dipped bread.
The dancers were striking, with their bodies and faces painted to resemble native animals, and their movements fluid and graceful. They reminded Nick of a Cirque du Soleil show he caught in Vegas on his last leave before shipping out to Pegasus. This was less of a show, though, than an intricately choreographed interactive experience, the performers making their audience a part of the sensual dance. A snake-man slithered into Sheppard's lap, writhing against him, pressing him back against the pillows, his body stretched out along Sheppard's, and Nick's breath caught as he watched. Sheppard's eyelids fluttered shut and his tongue darted out to wet parted lips, but Nick didn't see whatever happened next because a woman painted to look vaguely feline licked a stripe up his jaw and toward his ear and it took everything he had not to react with his combat training. When he looked back, the snake-man had moved on and Sheppard looked a little flushed but that could've been from the wine.
Nick's cat-woman got a better response from Ronon, who growled low in his throat when she licked him, and Nick couldn't help but think that Ronon was going to be the focal point of an orgy at this rate. A woman in jewel-toned makeup and gauzy scarves fluttered around Teyla—butterfly, maybe?—scattering light touches and kisses over her face and shoulders and leaving her laughing and blushing. The dancers moved around McKay but didn't engage with him; he was obviously too engrossed in his blonde, one hand splayed against her back and the other sliding up her thigh as they kissed.
The music slowly faded and the last of the performers slipped away just as the last note sounded. Nick joined in the politely restrained applause, turning his head as movement caught his attention: Sheppard was leaning forward, saying something into his attendant's ear, and the man smiled and nodded, then disappeared outside. The woman picked up Sheppard's goblet and held it out to him. He took it, cupping his own hand over hers and pulling her closer to him when he drank. Nick turned away, taking another small drink of his own wine before offering the goblet to Jana, who looked surprised but not displeased as she drank. At his nod, she passed it on to Rafe.
Sheppard got to his feet, looking a little unsteady. "I think," he said to the room in general, though Nick didn't think Ronon and McKay were exactly paying attention, "it's time for me to hit the hay. I'll see you all at breakfast."
Offering a quick thank you to Jana and Rafe, Nick stood and followed Sheppard, slipping his tac vest back on as he went. He had a pretty good idea what was going on, and he felt an obligation to protect his CO from himself. Slipping through the tent flap, he paused to let his eyes adjust; clouds obscured the planet's two moons and the village common was almost black, especially when compared to the firelit interior of the dining tent. He looked around, but didn't see Sheppard outside; maybe the colonel really had gone to the sleeping tent. Just as Nick was about to turn around and go back inside, one of the moons slipped from behind the clouds and a flash of movement caught his eye.
They were off to one side, at the edge of the circle of tents, Sheppard's hands cupping the man's face, holding him still as Sheppard kissed him with a single-minded intensity that made Nick hard just watching. Strong, masculine hands moved over Sheppard's body, pulling him closer, sliding up under his shirt, and Nick was moving before he even realized it. He coughed, glancing away and pausing long enough to let Sheppard back away from the man. Plausible deniability.
"Lorne." Sheppard looked...well, like he'd been caught nearly having sex in public. Somewhere between guilty and turned on, his breathing still a little fast.
"Colonel," Nick acknowledged. "I was just heading for bed, myself." He didn't move, though, waiting for Sheppard to take the hint, to make whatever excuse he was going to make for being out here instead of in his own tent.
Instead, Sheppard just said, "Well, don't let me keep you, Major."
Nick didn't take the hint, either, and so they just stood there in an awkward stand-off, Sheppard swaying a little on his feet and Nick determined not to let him blow his career over some drunken one-night stand. Finally, Nick smiled tightly at the attendant and said, "I'll see that the colonel gets to his tent safely, thanks." When the guy nodded and turned away, Sheppard seemed to deflate. "Come on, let's get you to bed," Nick said, taking Sheppard's elbow and steering him gently toward the sleeping tents.
Sheppard pulled his arm away, but kept walking alongside Nick. "What the hell was that about?" he said, sounding more petulant than angry, which was probably not what he'd intended.
"A person," Nick said carefully, "might get the wrong idea about the situation if they found you wandering around in the moonlight with someone like him." He held up the flap of Sheppard's tent, blinking at the relative brightness of the braziers inside, and Sheppard ducked under his arm.
As he crossed the threshold, Sheppard stumbled over the folded edge of the floor coverings. Nick reached out to steady him, ending up with an armful of wide-eyed drunken colonel, fingers gripping his biceps in a way that was going to leave bruises, and with the way he was pressed up against Nick, Sheppard couldn't possibly miss the very hard evidence of his earlier voyeurism. For a second they stared at each other, and then Sheppard licked his lips and leaned forward. "Who says it would be the wrong idea?" he said, low and sultry in Nick's ear, and Nick suddenly realized that the intoxication was an act, an excuse in case he got caught.
Nick opened his mouth—not knowing what he planned to say, only that he had to say something to keep the situation from getting out of hand—but before he could even manage a simple stop or no or don't, Sheppard was sliding to his knees, his fingers working the buttons of Nick's BDUs and for a second Nick couldn't breathe, let alone speak. Then Sheppard had his dick free and Nick closed his eyes, not sure he could say no if he kept watching.
"Shit. This is a really bad idea, Colonel," Nick managed before he felt Sheppard's mouth on his dick, hot and wet, swallowing him down.
Sheppard pulled back. "No rank here," he said, his hand still stroking, restless and slick and making Nick shudder. "Just a couple of guys having a good time. Besides, you don't really think it's a bad idea. Well, not all of you, at least." It wasn't like Sheppard was wrong, either. As much as Nick knew it was a really big—really stupid—risk to take, he also knew that he wanted to, so badly that he ached with it. When he opened his eyes, Sheppard was grinning up at him.
"Just a couple of guys," Nick agreed, and the feeling of letting go was like thirty seconds of freefall packed into a single instant.
What Sheppard lacked in technique—which turned out to be very, very little, actually—he more than made up for in enthusiasm. The second time Nick nearly collapsed as his knees tried to buckle on him, Sheppard stopped and said, "Works better against a wall, but since we don't have one handy we could try the bed."
It wasn't a bed so much as a pile of pillows and furs, but it was soft and fairly comfortable, and at this point Nick probably would have been content just to be horizontal. He'd ditched his tac vest and let Sheppard push his BDUs down to his knees, and now he was trying to remember how to breathe as the head of his dick hit the back of Sheppard's throat, slick and hot and tight. He wanted to thrust up into the sensation, but Sheppard was holding him down, strong hands pressing against his hips and grounding him.
And God, it was good, but if they were going to do this then Nick wanted more, wanted to feel Sheppard enjoying it, too. "Wait," he said, and when Sheppard stopped, pulled away to look up at him his eyes were dark and a little wild, his lips parted, swollen and slick-wet in the firelight, and Nick nearly forgot what he'd been going to say. "Come here," he said, tugging on Sheppard's shoulder.
Sheppard crawled up until they were face to face, one eyebrow raised as he looked down at Nick, who reached out to cup the front of Sheppard's BDUs, pressing the heel of his hand against the hard jut of Sheppard's dick. Sheppard gasped and pushed back against the pressure, his forehead dropping to rest against Nick's shoulder, and Nick fumbled urgently with buttons and fabric until he could actually touch Sheppard's dick, until it was hot and heavy against his palm. It wasn't enough, though; now that he'd decided to let go, Nick wanted more, wanted as much as he could get. Arching his back, he flipped them over, swallowing Sheppard's surprised exclamation in a messy open-mouthed kiss that Sheppard immediately responded to, opening his own mouth wider and sliding his hands around to clutch at Nick's ass. Nick thrust down and Sheppard's grip tightened, his hips arching up and sliding their dicks together, sending liquid fire down Nick's spine and into his balls.
It didn't take much for them to fall into a rough rhythm of push-pull and thrust, bodies rocking together, silent except for soft gasps and harsh, shuddering breaths until finally Nick felt Sheppard tense under him, felt the pulse and heat of Sheppard coming. "Jesus, Nick," Sheppard breathed, but he didn't let go, barely missed a beat in the rhythm they'd set. "Yeah, come on. Let go." And even without the hot and tight and slick between their bodies, Nick would've been on the edge just from the tone of Sheppard's voice, the aching need under the words. "Let go," Sheppard whispered again, and Nick buried his face in Sheppard's neck and just...did. Just let go.
Sheppard's hands were soothing now, stroking up under Nick's shirt, across his back, and Nick pushed up and away, rolling over to lie staring up at the peaked roof of the tent. Leaning up on one elbow, Sheppard looked down at him. "Still think it was a bad idea?" he asked, fingers trailing low across Nick's stomach, and there was a hint of something in his expression, something far less casual than his tone implied.
Nick nodded. "Definitely a bad idea," he said, reaching out and pulling Sheppard into a kiss at the same time. "Best fucking bad idea ever, though." And he could feel Sheppard's smile against his mouth.
fait accompli
downthrow noun
Geology. The sudden drop or depression of the strata of rocks on one side of a fault.
Beta(s): Cathexys bravely stepped into the breach.
A/N: This is for Casspeach's birthday, because I love her dearly and she deserves lots of fabulously hot porn about Nick Lorne. I hope this qualifies. *g*
Disclaimer: Not mine. If they were...well, let's just say they wouldn't have much time for missions.
- Text Size +
Category: Slash Pairings > Lorne/Sheppard
Characters: John Sheppard, Major Lorne
Rating: NC-17
Genres: First Time, PWP - Plot, What Plot?
Warnings: None
Series: None
Word count: 3364; Completed: Yes
Summary: Of all the ways to fuck up his career, Nick never even considered this one. [Sheppard/Lorne]
Of all the ways to fuck up his career, Nick never even considered this one. He thought about being caught out under Don't Ask, Don't Tell, and about opening his mouth at the wrong time and saying something too glib to be ignored, and, hell, half a dozen other ways, but honestly, he never even considered this: leaning against the wall of his CO's quarters, his CO kneeling in front of him, eager mouth wrapped around Nick's cock.
Most days he isn't sure whether to love or hate his life in the Pegasus galaxy, but right now, as Sheppard swallows around him, Nick loves it, freaky vampire aliens and all.
He lets his head fall back against the wall, eyes still focused on the stretch of Sheppard's mouth, red and wet, and on the dark crescents of Sheppard's lashes.
They've been doing this for, what, a couple of weeks now? Even so, Nick's still totally bowled over every time Sheppard slides one hand behind his neck and pulls him into a deceptively lazy kiss that leads, inevitably, to them tangled together, naked and sweaty and exhausted on Sheppard's too-narrow bunk.
M6I-274 was a wealthy planet by Pegasus galaxy standards; their soil was rich with both nutrients and minerals, providing an abundance of agricultural products and unrefined ores to trade for medicine or advanced geological engineering expertise, which was how Nick had ended up on the mission.
It was educational, being off-world with Sheppard and his team. Teyla and Ronon were businesslike and prepared, everything Nick had expected of them, so that was no surprise. What was a surprise was McKay. He whined and complained as much as Nick remembered, but Sheppard seemed to ignore it entirely, acting like McKay was as capable as the other members of his team. Weirdly, this seemed to somehow make McKay more capable; the bitching never stopped, but he kept up with the rest of them, one eye on his scanning equipment and the other on their surroundings.
The mission itself was pretty routine. They'd already done some minor trading with these people, so now it was just a matter of figuring out exactly how much knowledge to share with them. Their mining operations were pretty simplistic; if he requisitioned some basic equipment from Earth, Nick could probably double their productivity just by teaching a class in geological field methods. He had the requisition half completed in his head when he and Teyla stepped through the curtain into the main guest tent and found that the party was already in full swing. Sheppard, McKay, and Ronon were settled on the floor, reclining in nests of brightly colored pillows, each with their own small table piled high with bowls and plates and cups.
"Pull up a piece of floor, guys," Sheppard said with a grin. "I'm told the show's about to begin." There was something off about the colonel; his voice was just a little bit too casual, even for Sheppard. The mystery was quickly cleared up when he spoke again, "And take it easy on the fermented not-grape beverage. It's got one hell of a kick."
The mission briefing had given all the pertinent cultural details, but somehow it hadn't truly prepared Nick for the sight of all those half-naked men and women. He ditched his tac vest, tucking it behind and partly beneath him as he sat, because he wasn't about to sacrifice preparedness for comfort, not even among people who were ostensibly friends. Teyla sat on the other side of the remaining small table, and almost immediately they were surrounded by attendants offering a variety of food and drink.
A brunette who couldn't have been much older than twenty-five—about Terri's age, and thinking of his baby sister right now was just weird—knelt next to him and bowed her head briefly. "I'm Jana, and I'm pleased to be attending to your needs." She held out a piece of fruit, obviously expecting him to eat it from her fingers. He shot a quick look at Teyla, who smiled and nodded encouragingly, and then he took the bite as chastely as he could. It was sweet and juicy, and Nick vaguely remembered it as one of the pear-shaped-but-peach-flavored things that they'd traded for previously. Another attendant knelt at Nick's other side and introduced himself as Rafe, then offered Nick a cube of bread dipped in a rich meat broth. Nick took it, but not without feeling even more awkward, and he glanced over at Sheppard to see how he was handling the situation.
Apparently with far fewer qualms than Nick, because he was lounging back against his pile of pillows, legs stretched casually in front of him, and was smiling at his attendants, laughing at something that one of them had said. Beyond him, Ronon had one arm around the waist of the pretty redhead who was dropping bites of sliced vegetable into his mouth and his other hand wasn't visible, but Nick was pretty sure it was somewhere in the vicinity of the backside of the man who was pouring him another goblet of a dark red liquid. And McKay—well, that was the one that really surprised him. A curvy blonde was sitting half in McKay's lap, and as Nick watched McKay took her wrist in one hand, eating the piece of fruit she was offering and then licking the juice from her fingers and making her giggle. Even Teyla looked perfectly comfortable with the situation, accepting it like it wasn't strange or far too close to public sex.
All of which merely served to make Nick acutely aware of his distinctly middle-class, middle-American upbringing. He'd taken the SGC's mandatory cultural sensitivity training, and had been through the Earth stargate dozens of times, but this was the first off-world mission where he found himself really having to fight his knee-jerk cultural assumptions. It might have been different if not for the fact that he knew the attendants were there to provide for any need their visitors might have. It only helped a little that he knew they weren't slaves—were, in fact, the next generation of leaders—and that they not only chose these roles but chose which of the "honored guests" they would serve.
It looked like Ronon and McKay were planning to accept everything their attendants were offering. Well, McKay was paying only minimal attention to the man attending him, but Nick would lay odds that the blonde woman would end up in McKay's tent tonight. Honestly, if the situation had been a little different, or if Nick hadn't been forewarned about the potency of the wine, he might have been okay with finding himself in bed with Rafe, who was long and lean with a feline grace about him—things Nick found almost irresistibly appealing.
Jana held the cup of wine up for him and he took a small, experimental sip. It didn't seem that strong, but he was going to take Sheppard's word for it; getting drunk here, surrounded by temptation, would be a very bad idea. Of course, it didn't seem like Sheppard was particularly worried about that, at least not judging by the way he tipped his cup up, his throat working as he swallowed its contents, and that lack of restraint was out of character for him in Nick's experience. When music started up—something vaguely Middle Eastern, except with Celtic-sounding flutes and something that might have been a banjo—Nick split his attention between the dancers and Sheppard, only realizing a few minutes into the entertainment that he'd stopped being hyperaware of Jana and Rafe's fingers feeding him bites of fruit and meat and sauce-dipped bread.
The dancers were striking, with their bodies and faces painted to resemble native animals, and their movements fluid and graceful. They reminded Nick of a Cirque du Soleil show he caught in Vegas on his last leave before shipping out to Pegasus. This was less of a show, though, than an intricately choreographed interactive experience, the performers making their audience a part of the sensual dance. A snake-man slithered into Sheppard's lap, writhing against him, pressing him back against the pillows, his body stretched out along Sheppard's, and Nick's breath caught as he watched. Sheppard's eyelids fluttered shut and his tongue darted out to wet parted lips, but Nick didn't see whatever happened next because a woman painted to look vaguely feline licked a stripe up his jaw and toward his ear and it took everything he had not to react with his combat training. When he looked back, the snake-man had moved on and Sheppard looked a little flushed but that could've been from the wine.
Nick's cat-woman got a better response from Ronon, who growled low in his throat when she licked him, and Nick couldn't help but think that Ronon was going to be the focal point of an orgy at this rate. A woman in jewel-toned makeup and gauzy scarves fluttered around Teyla—butterfly, maybe?—scattering light touches and kisses over her face and shoulders and leaving her laughing and blushing. The dancers moved around McKay but didn't engage with him; he was obviously too engrossed in his blonde, one hand splayed against her back and the other sliding up her thigh as they kissed.
The music slowly faded and the last of the performers slipped away just as the last note sounded. Nick joined in the politely restrained applause, turning his head as movement caught his attention: Sheppard was leaning forward, saying something into his attendant's ear, and the man smiled and nodded, then disappeared outside. The woman picked up Sheppard's goblet and held it out to him. He took it, cupping his own hand over hers and pulling her closer to him when he drank. Nick turned away, taking another small drink of his own wine before offering the goblet to Jana, who looked surprised but not displeased as she drank. At his nod, she passed it on to Rafe.
Sheppard got to his feet, looking a little unsteady. "I think," he said to the room in general, though Nick didn't think Ronon and McKay were exactly paying attention, "it's time for me to hit the hay. I'll see you all at breakfast."
Offering a quick thank you to Jana and Rafe, Nick stood and followed Sheppard, slipping his tac vest back on as he went. He had a pretty good idea what was going on, and he felt an obligation to protect his CO from himself. Slipping through the tent flap, he paused to let his eyes adjust; clouds obscured the planet's two moons and the village common was almost black, especially when compared to the firelit interior of the dining tent. He looked around, but didn't see Sheppard outside; maybe the colonel really had gone to the sleeping tent. Just as Nick was about to turn around and go back inside, one of the moons slipped from behind the clouds and a flash of movement caught his eye.
They were off to one side, at the edge of the circle of tents, Sheppard's hands cupping the man's face, holding him still as Sheppard kissed him with a single-minded intensity that made Nick hard just watching. Strong, masculine hands moved over Sheppard's body, pulling him closer, sliding up under his shirt, and Nick was moving before he even realized it. He coughed, glancing away and pausing long enough to let Sheppard back away from the man. Plausible deniability.
"Lorne." Sheppard looked...well, like he'd been caught nearly having sex in public. Somewhere between guilty and turned on, his breathing still a little fast.
"Colonel," Nick acknowledged. "I was just heading for bed, myself." He didn't move, though, waiting for Sheppard to take the hint, to make whatever excuse he was going to make for being out here instead of in his own tent.
Instead, Sheppard just said, "Well, don't let me keep you, Major."
Nick didn't take the hint, either, and so they just stood there in an awkward stand-off, Sheppard swaying a little on his feet and Nick determined not to let him blow his career over some drunken one-night stand. Finally, Nick smiled tightly at the attendant and said, "I'll see that the colonel gets to his tent safely, thanks." When the guy nodded and turned away, Sheppard seemed to deflate. "Come on, let's get you to bed," Nick said, taking Sheppard's elbow and steering him gently toward the sleeping tents.
Sheppard pulled his arm away, but kept walking alongside Nick. "What the hell was that about?" he said, sounding more petulant than angry, which was probably not what he'd intended.
"A person," Nick said carefully, "might get the wrong idea about the situation if they found you wandering around in the moonlight with someone like him." He held up the flap of Sheppard's tent, blinking at the relative brightness of the braziers inside, and Sheppard ducked under his arm.
As he crossed the threshold, Sheppard stumbled over the folded edge of the floor coverings. Nick reached out to steady him, ending up with an armful of wide-eyed drunken colonel, fingers gripping his biceps in a way that was going to leave bruises, and with the way he was pressed up against Nick, Sheppard couldn't possibly miss the very hard evidence of his earlier voyeurism. For a second they stared at each other, and then Sheppard licked his lips and leaned forward. "Who says it would be the wrong idea?" he said, low and sultry in Nick's ear, and Nick suddenly realized that the intoxication was an act, an excuse in case he got caught.
Nick opened his mouth—not knowing what he planned to say, only that he had to say something to keep the situation from getting out of hand—but before he could even manage a simple stop or no or don't, Sheppard was sliding to his knees, his fingers working the buttons of Nick's BDUs and for a second Nick couldn't breathe, let alone speak. Then Sheppard had his dick free and Nick closed his eyes, not sure he could say no if he kept watching.
"Shit. This is a really bad idea, Colonel," Nick managed before he felt Sheppard's mouth on his dick, hot and wet, swallowing him down.
Sheppard pulled back. "No rank here," he said, his hand still stroking, restless and slick and making Nick shudder. "Just a couple of guys having a good time. Besides, you don't really think it's a bad idea. Well, not all of you, at least." It wasn't like Sheppard was wrong, either. As much as Nick knew it was a really big—really stupid—risk to take, he also knew that he wanted to, so badly that he ached with it. When he opened his eyes, Sheppard was grinning up at him.
"Just a couple of guys," Nick agreed, and the feeling of letting go was like thirty seconds of freefall packed into a single instant.
What Sheppard lacked in technique—which turned out to be very, very little, actually—he more than made up for in enthusiasm. The second time Nick nearly collapsed as his knees tried to buckle on him, Sheppard stopped and said, "Works better against a wall, but since we don't have one handy we could try the bed."
It wasn't a bed so much as a pile of pillows and furs, but it was soft and fairly comfortable, and at this point Nick probably would have been content just to be horizontal. He'd ditched his tac vest and let Sheppard push his BDUs down to his knees, and now he was trying to remember how to breathe as the head of his dick hit the back of Sheppard's throat, slick and hot and tight. He wanted to thrust up into the sensation, but Sheppard was holding him down, strong hands pressing against his hips and grounding him.
And God, it was good, but if they were going to do this then Nick wanted more, wanted to feel Sheppard enjoying it, too. "Wait," he said, and when Sheppard stopped, pulled away to look up at him his eyes were dark and a little wild, his lips parted, swollen and slick-wet in the firelight, and Nick nearly forgot what he'd been going to say. "Come here," he said, tugging on Sheppard's shoulder.
Sheppard crawled up until they were face to face, one eyebrow raised as he looked down at Nick, who reached out to cup the front of Sheppard's BDUs, pressing the heel of his hand against the hard jut of Sheppard's dick. Sheppard gasped and pushed back against the pressure, his forehead dropping to rest against Nick's shoulder, and Nick fumbled urgently with buttons and fabric until he could actually touch Sheppard's dick, until it was hot and heavy against his palm. It wasn't enough, though; now that he'd decided to let go, Nick wanted more, wanted as much as he could get. Arching his back, he flipped them over, swallowing Sheppard's surprised exclamation in a messy open-mouthed kiss that Sheppard immediately responded to, opening his own mouth wider and sliding his hands around to clutch at Nick's ass. Nick thrust down and Sheppard's grip tightened, his hips arching up and sliding their dicks together, sending liquid fire down Nick's spine and into his balls.
It didn't take much for them to fall into a rough rhythm of push-pull and thrust, bodies rocking together, silent except for soft gasps and harsh, shuddering breaths until finally Nick felt Sheppard tense under him, felt the pulse and heat of Sheppard coming. "Jesus, Nick," Sheppard breathed, but he didn't let go, barely missed a beat in the rhythm they'd set. "Yeah, come on. Let go." And even without the hot and tight and slick between their bodies, Nick would've been on the edge just from the tone of Sheppard's voice, the aching need under the words. "Let go," Sheppard whispered again, and Nick buried his face in Sheppard's neck and just...did. Just let go.
Sheppard's hands were soothing now, stroking up under Nick's shirt, across his back, and Nick pushed up and away, rolling over to lie staring up at the peaked roof of the tent. Leaning up on one elbow, Sheppard looked down at him. "Still think it was a bad idea?" he asked, fingers trailing low across Nick's stomach, and there was a hint of something in his expression, something far less casual than his tone implied.
Nick nodded. "Definitely a bad idea," he said, reaching out and pulling Sheppard into a kiss at the same time. "Best fucking bad idea ever, though." And he could feel Sheppard's smile against his mouth.
downthrow noun
Geology. The sudden drop or depression of the strata of rocks on one side of a fault.
Beta(s): Cathexys bravely stepped into the breach.
A/N: This is for Casspeach's birthday, because I love her dearly and she deserves lots of fabulously hot porn about Nick Lorne. I hope this qualifies. *g*
Disclaimer: Not mine. If they were...well, let's just say they wouldn't have much time for missions.