Fic: Classified
Jun. 13th, 2011 10:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sabinetzinTitle: Classified
Summary: Blame it all on craigslist.
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Word Count: 739
Rating/Contents: R, spanking, humiliation
Pairing: John/Rodney
Policies: Read my archiving, feedback, and warnings policies here.
A/N: For the humiliation (situational) square on my![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kink_bingo card. This is me trying to write something shorter/trying to finish stuff I started a billion years ago so that I can actually get this blackout rolling (so to speak).
It takes a solid month before the Atlantis Personal Classified System, which Rodney refers to as the APCS and everybody else just calls craigslist, is up and running.
John watches it carefully. It takes sixteen minutes for someone to ask for booze- unsurprising- half an hour before someone asks for porn- a little slow- and half a day for someone to ask for sex- right on schedule.
What's really surprising is that it takes over a week before someone asks for kinky sex. The listings are so heavily coded, at first, that John is convinced that at least some of the postings are just the linguists fucking around. John's really rather pleased with his effort, however, which has just the right amount of double talk:
Athletic, flexible guy seeks take-charge person for NSA fun. User 908.
John gets three replies from people who clearly don't get it before he gets a decent one, where decent means "three pages long" and "incredibly detailed." It's got everything in it except the guy's favorite food, including a two paragraph aside about Wonder Woman, and John is oddly charmed by it. After much deliberation, he decides to go for it; it's gotta be either Rodney or Kavanaugh, and one of those possibilities is just too much to bear.
John sends back a three sentence reply, and it's on.
When John gets to the appointed meeting place, it's Rodney who's waiting for him, thank god. "So," John says, resisting the urge to stare at his shoes and shuffle his feet.
"I was told I was meeting a switch," Rodney says critically, mercifully skipping the awkward prelude.
"I'm switchy," he argues, and Rodney just scoffs at him. John takes a step closer, getting up in Rodney's face. "I was told I was meeting a top."
Rodney doesn't flinch. "You're walking a fine line, John."
"Yeah, McKay? What're you gonna do about it?"
Rodney just studies him for a moment. John knows that look; he's waiting for confirmation, waiting to make sure that John's not going to turn around and beat the crap out of him for whatever he's about to do. John gives him a little nod, just enough that it can't be misinterpreted.
Rodney shoves him hard in the chest, knocking him off balance so that he can spin him around, catching his wrists and pulling them up behind his back. It's not bad- a little clumsy, but John has no actual interest in getting away, which helps a lot.
He slams John down, bent over the arm of the ubiquitous tacky Ancient couch, one big hand pressing both his wrists against his back. "I haven't got time for this shit," Rodney says into his ear. His free hand is working at John's waist, ripping his fly open so that he can yank John's pants and boxers down to his thighs. "You're just testing me, aren't you? You just want to know if I'm serious about this or not."
Rodney doesn't give him any warm-up or warning; his open hand comes down on John's ass, hard. "Too bad that's not how it works." He doesn't let up, smacking John again and again.
This is not at all how John imagined it going. There was going to be negotiation and awkward silences and probably he was going to run at the last second. Instead, Rodney's already got him pegged; Rodney's already outclassed him, and he's proving it, spanking him like a disobedient child. John's in way over his head already, and it's terrible, it's completely humiliating, and that just makes it better, somehow, in John's twisted-up brain..
Rodney lands a particularly vicious slap to one of John's thighs. "Are you ready to admit you can't wait to be my slut?"
"If I say yes," John manages to say, breathing hard, "you gonna stop hitting me?"
"I might," Rodney allows.
He arches his back, presenting, even though his face is burning. "Then no."
Rodney chuckles at that, rough and low, and John hears him unbuckle his belt, the soft whirring sound it makes as he pulls it quickly out of the loops.
John has to bite his lip to keep from moaning.
Summary: Blame it all on craigslist.
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Word Count: 739
Rating/Contents: R, spanking, humiliation
Pairing: John/Rodney
Policies: Read my archiving, feedback, and warnings policies here.
A/N: For the humiliation (situational) square on my
kink_bingo card. This is me trying to write something shorter/trying to finish stuff I started a billion years ago so that I can actually get this blackout rolling (so to speak).It takes a solid month before the Atlantis Personal Classified System, which Rodney refers to as the APCS and everybody else just calls craigslist, is up and running.
John watches it carefully. It takes sixteen minutes for someone to ask for booze- unsurprising- half an hour before someone asks for porn- a little slow- and half a day for someone to ask for sex- right on schedule.
What's really surprising is that it takes over a week before someone asks for kinky sex. The listings are so heavily coded, at first, that John is convinced that at least some of the postings are just the linguists fucking around. John's really rather pleased with his effort, however, which has just the right amount of double talk:
Athletic, flexible guy seeks take-charge person for NSA fun. User 908.
John gets three replies from people who clearly don't get it before he gets a decent one, where decent means "three pages long" and "incredibly detailed." It's got everything in it except the guy's favorite food, including a two paragraph aside about Wonder Woman, and John is oddly charmed by it. After much deliberation, he decides to go for it; it's gotta be either Rodney or Kavanaugh, and one of those possibilities is just too much to bear.
John sends back a three sentence reply, and it's on.
When John gets to the appointed meeting place, it's Rodney who's waiting for him, thank god. "So," John says, resisting the urge to stare at his shoes and shuffle his feet.
"I was told I was meeting a switch," Rodney says critically, mercifully skipping the awkward prelude.
"I'm switchy," he argues, and Rodney just scoffs at him. John takes a step closer, getting up in Rodney's face. "I was told I was meeting a top."
Rodney doesn't flinch. "You're walking a fine line, John."
"Yeah, McKay? What're you gonna do about it?"
Rodney just studies him for a moment. John knows that look; he's waiting for confirmation, waiting to make sure that John's not going to turn around and beat the crap out of him for whatever he's about to do. John gives him a little nod, just enough that it can't be misinterpreted.
Rodney shoves him hard in the chest, knocking him off balance so that he can spin him around, catching his wrists and pulling them up behind his back. It's not bad- a little clumsy, but John has no actual interest in getting away, which helps a lot.
He slams John down, bent over the arm of the ubiquitous tacky Ancient couch, one big hand pressing both his wrists against his back. "I haven't got time for this shit," Rodney says into his ear. His free hand is working at John's waist, ripping his fly open so that he can yank John's pants and boxers down to his thighs. "You're just testing me, aren't you? You just want to know if I'm serious about this or not."
Rodney doesn't give him any warm-up or warning; his open hand comes down on John's ass, hard. "Too bad that's not how it works." He doesn't let up, smacking John again and again.
This is not at all how John imagined it going. There was going to be negotiation and awkward silences and probably he was going to run at the last second. Instead, Rodney's already got him pegged; Rodney's already outclassed him, and he's proving it, spanking him like a disobedient child. John's in way over his head already, and it's terrible, it's completely humiliating, and that just makes it better, somehow, in John's twisted-up brain..
Rodney lands a particularly vicious slap to one of John's thighs. "Are you ready to admit you can't wait to be my slut?"
"If I say yes," John manages to say, breathing hard, "you gonna stop hitting me?"
"I might," Rodney allows.
He arches his back, presenting, even though his face is burning. "Then no."
Rodney chuckles at that, rough and low, and John hears him unbuckle his belt, the soft whirring sound it makes as he pulls it quickly out of the loops.
John has to bite his lip to keep from moaning.
