A Lorentzian Slip of the Tongue

No one really knows how gate travel works, but anyone that's been through the gate a few times knows that if you're speaking when you step across the event horizon, there's no guarantee that's what you'll be saying when you come out the other end. Note: this has never stopped McKay from talking all the way up the ramp and out the other side.

"-- best blowjob of my life," McKay's saying as they step out onto the rocky terrain of PX4-610.

John nearly runs into the MALP. "Excuse me?"

"Oh," says McKay, even as he's pulling out his life signs detector and taking a look around. "That sounded interesting. I wonder what I was talking about." He walks in a circle, checking his readings and seemingly oblivious to John's flustered blinking. John puts his sunglasses on, just in case.

McKay finishes his tests and turns to Ronon and Teyla, putting a hand up to shield his eyes from the sun. "This was your idea. May I ask why we're here? There's nothing on this rock except -- rock."

"Sand devils," Ronon mumbles.

"They are excellent in stew," Teyla offers, "and my people use their pelt to make many things, including -- I believe you call them mittens?"

Ronon grunts. "Their antlers make good knives."

John's brain slowly comes back online. "We're just checking stuff out, McKay. Making sure it's safe before we send the Athosian hunting party through next week."

They tramp through the red sand for what seems like hours, until Teyla holds up a hand and she and Ronon split up and dart off behind an outcropping of rock. There's the sound of Ronon's energy pistol and a sharp squeal, and then Ronon comes out carrying a large furry thing with long floppy ears, powerful hind legs and --

"No fucking way," John says.

"Antlers," says McKay.

Ronon and Teyla had caught themselves a jackalope.

"If we run into a unicorn on one of these trips, I'm transferring back to earth," McKay says on the way back to the gate.

"I don't think you have to worry about that, McKay. Word on the street is they only appear to the pure and chaste."

"I practically am at this point," McKay says, punching the buttons on the DHD. The wormhole splashes out and just before they step through, McKay sighs. "I really miss blowjobs. Having a cock in your mouth --"

John trips and enters Atlantis flat on his face.

" -- is like nothing else in the world," McKay says, stepping over him.


The next time it happens, McKay's saying, "-- gave the most incredible head. He was a swimmer. It was like he didn't even need to breathe down there."

"You're doing it again," John tells him.

"That's weird," McKay says. "It's like I can't walk through a wormhole without thinking about oral sex. Though -- and not that I hold any stock in psychotherapy -- you could posit that the wormhole acts like a symbolic mouth, swallowing you down, breaking you up into your component parts, thrusting you into nothingness." He blinks. "I really need to get laid."

John scowls. If McKay doesn't stop talking about blowjobs, John's going to do something drastic. Like hold him down and give him one.

Luckily, a mob of angry villagers starts throwing burning rocks at them, and they have to circle around and run back to the gate and McKay's panting too hard to talk and John's saved the indignity of having to listen to any further accounts of McKay's blowjob acrobatics.


And it keeps happening is the thing. Seemingly every time they step through a wormhole, McKay is talking about blowjobs when they come out the other side. To hear McKay tell it, he's gotten his cock sucked in every port on Earth, and a few in the Pegasus Galaxy, and that more than anything drives John up the wall. The thought that Rodney's getting blowjobs while John's training the Marines or beating off in the shower. The thought that Rodney's getting blowjobs by people who aren't John.

It's all he can think about and he alternates between avoiding McKay completely or following him around from the second John finds him at breakfast to the last moment of the day, McKay peering at him oddly as the door to his quarters closes between them.

He wants to suck Rodney's cock.

The idea doesn't get any less weird with time, but he's learning to live with it. He wants Rodney, wants to tug his pants down and suck him until he's begging to come, wants to swallow him down, let him fuck his throat. His mouth waters just thinking about it. John jerks off in the shower thinking about cock, about Rodney, about him and Rodney. John thinks about it at breakfast, while he's running, during Elizabeth's interminable senior staff meetings. John's mind is filled with cocksucking.

It's distracting as hell.


They're visiting the alpha site, making sure it's still where they left it and hasn't been overrun by dinosaurs or giant slugs. So far so good. Rodney hopped out of the wormhole with yet another tantalizing fragment of his sexual exploits and John had to pinch his cock through his pants so it wouldn't do anything embarrassing, but that's become routine these days.

He and McKay are just sitting around, waiting to see if anything new's going to attack them, when McKay says, "What about you, Colonel? Had any good blowjobs lately?"

"I can't talk about this now," John says.

"There's no one else here!"

Ronon and Teyla are off hunting, or having sex, possibly both. They frequently disappear on these alpha site trips. They return with leaves in their hair and scratches on their arms and, sometimes, small dead animals.

"I can't talk about this with you," John clarifies.

"Oh," McKay says, going back to his data pad.

They watch the alpha site for an hour or two. It doesn't go anywhere. No one attacks them, and then Teyla and Ronon come back with bruises on their arms and a clutch of dead animals and they all go home. McKay, for once, is absolutely silent on his way through the gate. It's only then that John realizes maybe Rodney had been trying to hit on him earlier, in his own horribly awkward Rodney way.

They get through their debrief and their showers, eat a late dinner, and then John follows Rodney back to his room.

"We need to talk about your little wormhole problem," John says as soon as the door closes behind them.

"I'm sorry," McKay says. "I guess I'm just really horny."

"Well, it's distracting," John says.

"My mind is completely on the job. I can't help what the --"

"It's distracting me, and I think we should do something about it."

"Is this -- is this what I think it is?" Rodney asks, looking hopeful.

"Depends," John says. "Do you want your dick sucked?"

"Oh, thank god, yes. I couldn't tell if you were going to hit me or hit on me. You were taking forever to make up your mind." Rodney kicks his shoes off and pulls his shirt over his head. "You do mean right now, right? I'm not sure I can wait."

John can't help his smile. "Yeah, right now."

"I don't know what I want to do first, you or me. You've done this before, right? Because I don't have time to teach you today." Rodney pulls off the rest of his clothes, and then he's standing there naked and John can only stare at his cock, thick and hard and the perfect size for John's mouth.

"Let's do you," John says, dropping to his knees and pushing his face between Rodney's legs, breathing him in, mouthing his balls, licking up the shaft. John sucks the head into his mouth, the rest of it. It's so good to be down there with his mouth full, nose pressed to Rodney's belly. He moans.

"That's so hot," Rodney says, fingers twisting in John's hair. "You're still in your uniform. It's like porn."

John pulls off so he can lick at the head and use his hand to grasp the shaft. Rodney's hips are making little stuttering movements like he can't control himself and John lets him gently fuck his mouth. It is like porn, and John has to push the heel of his hand against his cock. He's so hard.

"Wait," says Rodney, stopping. "Wait, wait, wait. Get undressed. Get on the bed." Rodney's glowing like he does when he's just had the most brilliant idea ever. John knows better than to get in Rodney's way when he's being brilliant. He strips and gets on the bed.

"God," Rodney says. He sits on the edge of the bed and stares at John, runs a hand down John's side from shoulder to flank. "You're so -- beautiful."

No one's ever said that to him before and he hides his surprise with a grin and tilts his hips at Rodney.

"Yet, surprisingly easy," Rodney says, hand slipping from John's thigh to between his legs. John arches into his touch, asks, "What's the plan?"

"Mm, the plan," Rodney says. "Goes like this."

Rodney gets John on his side, then lies down next to him so they're each facing the other's dick.

"My favorite number," John says, and sucks Rodney's cock back into his mouth. He's been thinking about this for weeks. They can brush each other's hair and talk about their feelings later, right now he just wants Rodney's cock in his mouth. Rodney's big and hard and John grabs two handfuls of ass and gorges himself. He's missed cock so much, been so hungry for it, and it's Rodney -- Rodney -- and John's so focused on Rodney's cock that it's a surprise when Rodney draws his warm, wet tongue up John's.

"Mph!" John says and Rodney's hips twitch forward and John takes it, fingers pressing into Rodney's ass for more.

Rodney mutters something into John's thigh. John can feel the warm puff of his breath, then Rodney's hand on him, his mouth. John pulls Rodney closer, gets him in deeper, and Rodney grips John's thighs and does the same thing to him, swallowing him down, like completing a circuit, information passing between them, through them, lighting them up like Atlantis. John swallows Rodney like Rodney is swallowing him, like a snake chasing its tail, until Rodney stops swallowing and comes.

John gently works him through it, holds Rodney's cock in his mouth while it softens, pets the back of his thighs.

"Just, just a second," Rodney says, mouth smashed against John's belly, John's cock mere inches away, abandoned.

"No hurry," John says. His voice is raspy, his throat sore. It's just what he wanted. He sucks kisses onto the soft skin of Rodney's inner thighs, rubs his stubbled cheeks there.

"Okay," says Rodney. "Okay."

Rodney rolls John onto his back, then turns around and gets between his legs.

"How do you feel about fingers?" Rodney asks.

"In what context?" John says, just to be a pain.

Rodney sticks two fingers in his mouth and draws them out slowly. It's obscene. John's mouth goes dry.

"Fingers are good."

"Thought so," Rodney says smugly, settling down between John's legs. "I only ask because -- this one time, I didn't, and apparently this --"

"Hey," John says, "less talk, more blowjob."

Rodney smirks and lifts John's cock up off his belly. John watches as Rodney's tongue comes out and his mouth closes over the head and then he can't watch anymore because his eyes are squeezed shut. He couldn't really concentrate on this before because he was so wrapped up in what he was doing to Rodney, but now it's everything. He can feel every stroke of Rodney's tongue, every intake of breath. Rodney's got a knuckle rubbing behind John's balls, and then two wet fingers slide back, and just the thought of them, of Rodney pushing inside, just that's enough to make John come in long gasping shudders.

Rodney swallows, then crawls up to collapse on John's chest and promptly informs him that, "I don't normally do that, but since it's a special occasion, I made an exception."

John feels floppy, wrung out. Good sex always does that to him. "Hm?" he says.

"I'm assuming," Rodney says, "that this is the start of a mutually satisfying sexual relationship. Am I wrong?"

"No." John gets an arm around Rodney's shoulders. "You're not wrong."

"Thought so," Rodney says, then goes abruptly limp. "God, I needed that."

"Yeah," says John, brushing his fingers through Rodney's hair. "Me too."


Rodney still talks all the way up to the gate and out the other side, but these days it's all about ZPMs and who drank the last cup of coffee and if Zelenka will ever declare his squirrelly Czech love for Elizabeth. He never mentions blowjobs again, which John takes as a sign of a job well done.