God, I don't even know.
Apr. 10th, 2009 03:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sabinetzinTitle: In Chambers
Summary: A lot of things come together to make Rodney go a little weird.
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis/First Monday
Word Count: 1300
Rating/Warnings: NC-17, fantasy voyeurism, a little brain-breaky if you think about it too hard
Pairing: Rodney/John one-sided UST, Rodney solo, Julian Lodge/John
A/N: So, there's no real reason to watch First Monday, even though it did have James Garner and Charles Durning and Joe Flanigan (whose scenes you can watch on youtube, thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
gaffsie). Because this isn't a proper crossover, all you need to know to read this fic is that Julian Lodge looks like this, and that the farther you get from civilization (in my experience), the weirder your DVD collection becomes.
The inside of Rodney's head is kind of a weird place these days. He blames it on, y'know, being in space with no hope of return and everything; that notwithstanding, he's just starting to go a little strange.
Part of the problem is that he's running out of television.
They brought monitors out the ass, but nobody seemed to think it was appropriate to bring anything to watch on them. So unless somebody's holding back a secret thumb drive or something, all they have to see is Sheppard's football game, The Empire Strikes Back, Lo Mejor del Chapulin Colorado Volume 2, Clue, some anime with no subtitles that Zelenka and Kusanagi argue about all the time, and this abysmally bad show about the US Supreme Court.
Like all really bad things, the show's gained this weird cult following in Atlantis. A huge part of it, Rodney's pretty sure, is one of the characters, this guy called Julian Lodge. Lodge is really hot and a total prick- but kinda sweet at the same time- which of course means that he's everybody's favorite.
The actor is some guy that Rodney's never even heard of; it's not like he can just IMDB it or anything, but the guy seriously doesn't look like he's old enough to have passed the bar. He doesn't even look old enough to go to the bar. Rodney doesn't really feel bad ogling him, though, because everybody in TV is always ten years older than they look, anyway.
What does make him feel a little bad is that Lodge looks exactly- down to the hair- exactly like a younger version of Major Sheppard. He even sounds like Sheppard, if Sheppard were irretrievably smug and cared a whole lot about peppercorns and constitutional law. He knows everybody else has noticed, too- there's at least one photoshop of Julian in dress blues on the "this is where you put the stuff we don't want the IOA to see" section of the server.
And god help him, he's actually starting to get into this show. It's worse than when they used to play General Hospital in the grad lounge at Caltech every day- and Rodney had had to start eating in his office after he realized he was actually worried about whether Luke and Laura were gonna stay together.
So that's part of it.
The other part of it is that he's just running out of stuff to fantasize about it.
There's not so much as a Victoria's Secret catalog in the whole of the Pegasus Galaxy- and he knows that nobody's holding out, because the whole fucking city is on the look out for the porn-making aliens. There's only so many times he can jerk off to thoughts of Sam Carter- he tries not to think that way about his coworkers, but she got him sent to Siberia, so she kind of owes him- before it starts to get a little old.
And one night, he's had a couple of cups of ruus wine, he stole some of the good lube from the infirmary, he's in the mood to make a production of it. He gets his hand good and slick, working himself with long, slow, almost teasing strokes, taking his time about it. He casts about for something hot to think about, something to push him into it. He runs through- and rejects- a whole list of stuff that's never failed before- these twins he knew in college, Pris from Blade Runner- but he can't stop thinking about that stupid show and Julian fucking Lodge, for whatever ridiculous reason. It's totally weird, because the guy's like Tucker Carlson's jailbait cousin, even if he is gorgeous.
And because the two are inextricably linked in his brain, it just follows that he'd be thinking about Lodge and Sheppard.
Rodney knows exactly what it'd be like, because he's gotten head from a lot of guys like Sheppard; the Air Force seems to attract them. It's pretty much obvious that he's insanely, perfectly gorgeous- obvious to everybody but him, that is. There's something about that combination that makes people insecure and greedy and eager for encouragement.
And so he's certain that Sheppard would be the first to rush to his knees and press Lodge's hips against the wall of- of probably some ridiculously well-appointed bathroom in the Supreme Court, with the door locked and really important people passing by in the corridor. He'd be wearing his dress blues- maybe he's testifying or escorting General O'Neill or something, it doesn't even matter- but he wouldn't care, wouldn't even bother to unbutton his jacket. He'd already be panting and ready for it, almost at the point of begging before anything good even happened, absolutely desperate to please.
And, despite how similar they look, Lodge would be just the opposite. He'd be acting like he won the fucking jackpot- which would be perfectly understandable in that situation. He'd make a big show out of getting his dick out, laugh a little bit when Sheppard licked his lips in anticipation. Maybe he'd even make Sheppard ask for it, make him beg for the privilege. And Sheppard- Sheppard wouldn't even have the presence of mind to get embarrassed, just tilt his head back and look up with him and say whatever Lodge wanted to hear.
As soon as Lodge let him, Sheppard'd be all over him. Lodge would have to lift Sheppard's hands away from where they'd clutch at the fabric of his obscenely expensive suit- he wouldn't really want to be all that impolite or anything, but he wouldn't want wrinkles, either. Or maybe he wouldn't even have time to, because Sheppard would already have his mouth around Lodge's dick, working his tongue and bobbing his head like he'd just die if he didn't.
Pretty soon Lodge'd be really fucking Sheppard's mouth, one hand tangled in his hair, letting ugly words and snatches like "take it" and "love this" and "cocksucker" tumble softly from his pretty lips. Sheppard would just keep moaning and letting him, taking Lodge's cock in until it was down his fucking throat, rubbing himself fitfully through his dress pants, too caught up to pay attention to his own pleasure.
And Rodney's sure there'd be more of it than that, but that's about the time he bucks up into his own hand and comes, his breath hitching and stuttering in his throat.
He doesn't start to feel weird about it until after he's come down; then suddenly he's just sticky, tired, and totally confused as to where the fuck that fantasy came from.
Somehow, he still finds it in himself to look Sheppard in the eye at breakfast, mostly because he's starting to think that if he's even half right about Sheppard, then it wouldn't really bother him that much that Rodney was fantasizing about him- quite the opposite, really.
Which only leads him to question why he hasn't ever mentioned it.
But he just can't go to movie night when they watch First Monday anymore. He's afraid Julian's going to know.
Summary: A lot of things come together to make Rodney go a little weird.
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis/First Monday
Word Count: 1300
Rating/Warnings: NC-17, fantasy voyeurism, a little brain-breaky if you think about it too hard
Pairing: Rodney/John one-sided UST, Rodney solo, Julian Lodge/John
A/N: So, there's no real reason to watch First Monday, even though it did have James Garner and Charles Durning and Joe Flanigan (whose scenes you can watch on youtube, thanks to
gaffsie). Because this isn't a proper crossover, all you need to know to read this fic is that Julian Lodge looks like this, and that the farther you get from civilization (in my experience), the weirder your DVD collection becomes.The inside of Rodney's head is kind of a weird place these days. He blames it on, y'know, being in space with no hope of return and everything; that notwithstanding, he's just starting to go a little strange.
Part of the problem is that he's running out of television.
They brought monitors out the ass, but nobody seemed to think it was appropriate to bring anything to watch on them. So unless somebody's holding back a secret thumb drive or something, all they have to see is Sheppard's football game, The Empire Strikes Back, Lo Mejor del Chapulin Colorado Volume 2, Clue, some anime with no subtitles that Zelenka and Kusanagi argue about all the time, and this abysmally bad show about the US Supreme Court.
Like all really bad things, the show's gained this weird cult following in Atlantis. A huge part of it, Rodney's pretty sure, is one of the characters, this guy called Julian Lodge. Lodge is really hot and a total prick- but kinda sweet at the same time- which of course means that he's everybody's favorite.
The actor is some guy that Rodney's never even heard of; it's not like he can just IMDB it or anything, but the guy seriously doesn't look like he's old enough to have passed the bar. He doesn't even look old enough to go to the bar. Rodney doesn't really feel bad ogling him, though, because everybody in TV is always ten years older than they look, anyway.
What does make him feel a little bad is that Lodge looks exactly- down to the hair- exactly like a younger version of Major Sheppard. He even sounds like Sheppard, if Sheppard were irretrievably smug and cared a whole lot about peppercorns and constitutional law. He knows everybody else has noticed, too- there's at least one photoshop of Julian in dress blues on the "this is where you put the stuff we don't want the IOA to see" section of the server.
And god help him, he's actually starting to get into this show. It's worse than when they used to play General Hospital in the grad lounge at Caltech every day- and Rodney had had to start eating in his office after he realized he was actually worried about whether Luke and Laura were gonna stay together.
So that's part of it.
The other part of it is that he's just running out of stuff to fantasize about it.
There's not so much as a Victoria's Secret catalog in the whole of the Pegasus Galaxy- and he knows that nobody's holding out, because the whole fucking city is on the look out for the porn-making aliens. There's only so many times he can jerk off to thoughts of Sam Carter- he tries not to think that way about his coworkers, but she got him sent to Siberia, so she kind of owes him- before it starts to get a little old.
And one night, he's had a couple of cups of ruus wine, he stole some of the good lube from the infirmary, he's in the mood to make a production of it. He gets his hand good and slick, working himself with long, slow, almost teasing strokes, taking his time about it. He casts about for something hot to think about, something to push him into it. He runs through- and rejects- a whole list of stuff that's never failed before- these twins he knew in college, Pris from Blade Runner- but he can't stop thinking about that stupid show and Julian fucking Lodge, for whatever ridiculous reason. It's totally weird, because the guy's like Tucker Carlson's jailbait cousin, even if he is gorgeous.
And because the two are inextricably linked in his brain, it just follows that he'd be thinking about Lodge and Sheppard.
Rodney knows exactly what it'd be like, because he's gotten head from a lot of guys like Sheppard; the Air Force seems to attract them. It's pretty much obvious that he's insanely, perfectly gorgeous- obvious to everybody but him, that is. There's something about that combination that makes people insecure and greedy and eager for encouragement.
And so he's certain that Sheppard would be the first to rush to his knees and press Lodge's hips against the wall of- of probably some ridiculously well-appointed bathroom in the Supreme Court, with the door locked and really important people passing by in the corridor. He'd be wearing his dress blues- maybe he's testifying or escorting General O'Neill or something, it doesn't even matter- but he wouldn't care, wouldn't even bother to unbutton his jacket. He'd already be panting and ready for it, almost at the point of begging before anything good even happened, absolutely desperate to please.
And, despite how similar they look, Lodge would be just the opposite. He'd be acting like he won the fucking jackpot- which would be perfectly understandable in that situation. He'd make a big show out of getting his dick out, laugh a little bit when Sheppard licked his lips in anticipation. Maybe he'd even make Sheppard ask for it, make him beg for the privilege. And Sheppard- Sheppard wouldn't even have the presence of mind to get embarrassed, just tilt his head back and look up with him and say whatever Lodge wanted to hear.
As soon as Lodge let him, Sheppard'd be all over him. Lodge would have to lift Sheppard's hands away from where they'd clutch at the fabric of his obscenely expensive suit- he wouldn't really want to be all that impolite or anything, but he wouldn't want wrinkles, either. Or maybe he wouldn't even have time to, because Sheppard would already have his mouth around Lodge's dick, working his tongue and bobbing his head like he'd just die if he didn't.
Pretty soon Lodge'd be really fucking Sheppard's mouth, one hand tangled in his hair, letting ugly words and snatches like "take it" and "love this" and "cocksucker" tumble softly from his pretty lips. Sheppard would just keep moaning and letting him, taking Lodge's cock in until it was down his fucking throat, rubbing himself fitfully through his dress pants, too caught up to pay attention to his own pleasure.
And Rodney's sure there'd be more of it than that, but that's about the time he bucks up into his own hand and comes, his breath hitching and stuttering in his throat.
He doesn't start to feel weird about it until after he's come down; then suddenly he's just sticky, tired, and totally confused as to where the fuck that fantasy came from.
Somehow, he still finds it in himself to look Sheppard in the eye at breakfast, mostly because he's starting to think that if he's even half right about Sheppard, then it wouldn't really bother him that much that Rodney was fantasizing about him- quite the opposite, really.
Which only leads him to question why he hasn't ever mentioned it.
But he just can't go to movie night when they watch First Monday anymore. He's afraid Julian's going to know.
