Not A Case Of Hero Worship

by J. M. Griffin

URL: http://www.area52hkh.net/asj/jmgriffin/worship.php
Summary: Sheppard and McKay come to a meeting of the...um...minds

Part 1 McKay

When he thinks no one is looking, Lieutenant Ford watches Major John Sheppard with his mouth open, a look of longing on his handsome face. I know this; I've seen it. I'm pretty sure Sheppard is oblivious to it. He doesn't see Ford as anything other than a subordinate member of his team, important, but imminently interchangeable. It isn't that the major is intending to be mean or even callous. He simply doesn't see the man who watches him surreptitiously out of the corner of his eye.

He doesn't see me, either.

Now let me say up front, I'm nothing like Ford. I'm not young, or amazingly fit, or achingly handsome. Unlike the lieutenant, I talk too much and get on Major Sheppard's nerves. He's told me more than once to shut up. On missions, he's cut me off, ignored my advice, and undermined my knowledge. He's irritated me more than anyone else on Atlantis. But I look at him just like Ford does, with longing in my eye.

Last week, we almost lost him. This insect thing attached itself to the major's neck and tried its damnedest to suck the life out of him. It almost succeeded.

While it was doing this, I was doing my damnedest to save our sorry asses. And just when I thought I'd have to give up and accept a terrible fate for all of us on board the puddlejumper, some god somewhere smiled and the flight pods retracted and Sheppard's lifeless body went from the nowhere of the Stargate's event horizon into the shuttle bay where medics were waiting.

I snarked and snarled and pretended not to be touched by our near death situation, but I have to tell you, I was rocked to my core. I haven't slept worth a damn this whole week thinking about what I almost lost.

Sure, Teyla, Ford, and I could have lost our lives – in fact we almost did. But worse than gating through to oblivion, we might have found ourselves back in the bay alive, with Sheppard dead. That would have been the worst outcome at all.

Once he was recuperating in our makeshift sickbay, I relaxed a bit and went to see him. However, I couldn't stay to listen to him joke with Weir about his brush with death. It was too close. I could have lost him before I ever had him – in any sense of the word. So I left the infirmary, but not before I took one long look at him – lying there alive and on a short road to recovery. Thank goodness no one noticed me mooning over him. No one ever does.

Part 2 Sheppard

The walls of this place are thin. You'd think that a superior race would make sure the walls between rooms were soundproof, but they didn't. So I can hear the two in the next room going at it. And I don't mean arguing. If the bed had a headboard, it would be banging against the wall now, but it doesn't so all I hear is a rhythmic not quite squeak and lots of moaning and groaning. I am not usually a voyeur, but it's making me horny.

We've been here long enough for people to start pairing up. I have to say, I've thought of doing it, too. I mean, the way Teyla looks at me some times, I think maybe....maybe. But we have a great working relationship, and I know from experience how things can change when a man and a woman who work together end up sleeping together. Just getting my rocks off isn't a good enough reason to screw things up. It's easier with two men, you can just suck each other's dicks and then go on as if nothing happened. Most women want something more, I have a feeling Teyla would.

If my next door neighbors don't stop, I'm going to have to take myself in hand. Except that hasn't worked very well for me lately, so I leave my quarters and head for the area we've dubbed the mess hall. One of Carson Beckett's nurses recently revealed himself as an inspired cook, so he left his job in the infirmary and makes it his business to keep us fed. He uses MRE's and other stuff we brought with us, as well as plants growing in our hydroponics lab, so now we have some pretty good eatin.'

I grab a dish that looks a lot like macaroni and cheese and go sit at a table by the huge windows. The view is awesome, but I don't really look out. My mind is on other things. My body has calmed down some since I left the room, but I am still half hard and I realize I'm not really hungry and I push the dish away.

"Hey," a voice says from behind me. "Chris is going to be pissed if you don't eat that."

It's Rodney McKay. I look up at him through my eyelashes and make a face. "Like anyone's going to know," I say.

Rodney sits down opposite me and pushes the little casserole dish back my way. Ever since my close call with that blood sucking insect, he's been shadowing me and mother-henning me. It isn't totally a bad thing. I mean, I pretend the guy irritates the hell out of me, but to be honest, I sort of like him. He's smart and quick and passionate as hell about his work.

As I watch him eat, my dick lifts in my pants. Down boy, I tell it.

"John?" Rodney is looking at me with a puzzled expression on his face – like I'm the conundrum of the week, an exceedingly interesting one that he has to figure out, or else.

"What?" I half snarl, half drawl.

Rodney swallows hard, but doesn't back down. "You need to eat. I think you've lost weight since that thing attacked you."

I make a face of my own and ignore his comment. But it's true I've lost weight. Lately, I find I'm not much hungry. Still, I pick up my fork and start to take a bite just to please him.

And stop with the food halfway to my mouth. What did I just say to myself?

Shaking my head, I put down my fork and shove my chair back. "Just thought of something I gotta go do," I say.

I try not to see the wounded look on the man's face as I run like hell.

Rodney has a case of hero worship and I have a case of blue balls. If I'm not careful I might do something stupid.

Part 3 McKay

I try not to let my feeling be hurt when John leaves the table. I have a PHD for pity's sake, I should know better than to let my emotional well being be affected by petty physical desire. But as I watch him go...as I watch his ass as he moves away from me...I know I'm caught, hook, line and sinker.

Ford sees me sitting alone and come over with his tray. "Did I see the major leave?"

"Yep," I say, and then I lie, "He got a page from Weir."

"Something important? Do you think we'll be heading out soon?" Ford asks me.

I shrug my shoulders. The kid has big brown eyes and long eyelashes, but they aren't as long as John's. He's almost too pretty, not my type at all. I like 'em tall and slender with ink dark hair and eyes the color of the...but I digress.

He eats and I eat and we talk of inconsequential things. Teyla comes in and joins us, and here we are together, all of our puddlejumping team except our leader.

I still find it unbelievable that I am part of a team like this. Scientists tend to be solitary by nature, rarely leaving their labs except to eat and sleep. Of course, there are some scientific think tanks were teamwork is the name of the game. But an action team like this... well, it puts me in mind of Samantha Carter and her three men on SG-1. Now those four seem to be living in each others pockets. Not only that, I'm pretty sure O'Neill and Jackson are sleeping together, though I asked Sam about it in a round-about way and she acted like she didn't understand my question. I know for a fact that Sam has a school girl crush on O'Neill and it clouds her mind to anything else. I also know that, deep down, she's aware nothing will come of it.

I guess it's time to face the fact that I have a crush on my own CO. So who am I to talk.

"Rodney?"

I look up to find Teyla standing across the table from me, obviously finished eating, a worried look on her face. Ford is parked just past her shoulder. "We're going now. See you later," she says before she walks away with the lieutenant.

I nod and they leave. I can only hope Teyla and Aidan think I've been deep in thought over scientific matters.

Part 4 Sheppard

The weekly meeting with Weir and her department heads is dull as doorknobs and I have a hard time staying awake. At the moment, Rodney is talking about how to up the power output through more aggressive recycling, and in truth, I don't give a rat's ass about any of it. I mean, I'll recycle what they tell me and go through all the steps, but I can't dredge up any enthusiasm about it. Still, I scrub at my face and try my best not to yawn too many times.

"Are we boring you, Major?" Weir asks me a tad archly.

"A little," I say truthfully. "I'll be a good soldier and do what I gotta do, but do I really need to be here for this discussion?"

Rodney looks crestfallen, as if he's truly upset that I don't want to stick around to hear the gory details. Why on earth he should care, I don't know.

Weir raises an eyebrow, but a few minutes later, she asks Rodney to summarize his proposal and give it to her, and then she dismisses us all. I make a quick exit and head for my bunk. Maybe without the night noises I can get a few winks of shut eye.

But when I stretch out on my bed, I find I'm wide awake. Counting dots on the ceiling of my room has worked before, and I'm just on the delicious edge of a dream with a man who looks suspiciously like Rodney McKay standing before me unbuttoning his pants when a loud rap startles me awake.

"Come in," I call out. As I sit up on the side of the bed, Rodney walks in.

He takes a look at me and realizes I've been sleeping. I've got my shirt off, but I still have my pants on and I wonder if he can tell I've got a boner going. I duck my head and run my hands through my hair, and I hear an odd gulping sound coming from my guest. It makes me look up fast to see if he's going to urp or something.

"Are you okay?" we ask each other almost simultaneously.

I nod and he lets out a shaky laugh and waves a folder at me.

"You left your papers on the recycling proposal." The man shifts from one foot to the other, making me wonder what his problem is.

"I don't really need them, do I?" I whine. "I mean, it's not like you want or need my input. Right?"

"Oh, uh, well, I just thought you'd want them." Rodney takes a step back and turns to go, so I get up from the bed thinking I'll lock the door behind him. As I stand, my head swims and I have to close my eyes and stagger forward a step to keep my balance. My hand goes out seeking support, and it smacks into something solid. I open my eyes to find that I've latched on to Rodney's arm, or maybe he's latched on to me, it is hard to tell.

"Sit down, for Pete's sake. What's the matter, are you sick?" he asks as he guides me to sit back down on the bed.

"Nah, I just got up too fast. I haven't gotten a whole lot of sleep lately."

"Tell me about it," he growls under his breath.

I turn to look at him, and suddenly he's right up in my face, and I see his eyes flare with desire and feel a tremor run down his arm and...I lean in and kiss him. I only mean to land a gentle peck on him, but his generous mouth opens to me and suddenly I am inside, exploring him with my tongue. He returns my kiss with unexpected enthusiasm and that's when it hits me that what Rodney feels for me is not hero worship.

I pull away from him fast, so I can look him in the eye, but the sudden movement makes my head swim again. I sit down on the bed in a hurry. Rodney sits beside me.

"Um, uhh, listen John, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...I uh...." he stutters.

"Rodney," I drawl. "Shut up. I kissed you, didn't I?"

The man's not really listening. "I mean, I hope you're not mad. It's just I...well..I've wanted...."

I turn and take his face between my hands and look him in the eye. "I kissed you."

"Oh," he says, a look of surprise in his eyes. "Oh...yeah, you did." And he gets this little grin on his face, hopeful and at the same time a bit wary.

I lean in for another kiss and this one is long and spit-swappin' sweet, and if I wasn't hard in my pants before, I sure as hell am now.

Part 5 McKay

John kisses me, and its was like Christmas and the fourth of July all rolled into one – I know, not an original thought, but true.

I slide my hand into his hair; it's feathery, like a bird's wings, and I surge up so hard in my pants it's difficult to see straight. Without thinking, I give him a little push and over we go onto the bed. His chest is bare, and I end up with my face pressed against his left nipple, so I give it a swift experimental lick and John gasps softly.

"Come up here," he growls at me, and I do as told, straddling his body and hovering over him. He reaches out and grabs my head and kisses me again. Kiss number three is long and messy and when we part we're both a little starved for oxygen.

A small part of me buried deep in my head is screaming, "Oh my gawd, oh my gawd, it's really happening." The rest of me is simply feeling.

I pull away from him, and his hand stays extended out toward me as if he doesn't want to let go. That more than anything make me think this was mutual, that Major John Sheppard is very much into what we're doing. This isn't going to be any sort of pity fuck. Hastily and without any finesse, I yank my shirt over my head, and then tackle the buttons on my pants. All the while, he watches and when I let my pants drop, he licks his lips.

If I wasn't already as hard as a rock, I would have sprung to attention at that. Kicking my pants away, I crawl back up on the bed and attack the fly of his pants. It takes me longer than I like before I can I wrestle them down his long, lean legs. I make sure to take his underwear along for the ride and his cock sprins free, long and slim as the man himself.

At his urging, I slide up John's body for another kiss. I feel the wetness of his precum on my thigh, and it makes me shudder against him. He moans and curls a leg up over my backside pinning me against him as he runs his tongue over my gums and teeth. His hands cup my face, holding me just so. I'm on top, but he's definitely in control. When his fingers relax a bit, I take the hint and slide back down his body, slowly this time, exploring as I go.

His nipples are small and brown and erect. I had seen them when he was lying injured in the shuttle – and I'd had to look away so as not to respond. Now I can look my fill, and, as a bonus, touch all I want. His hands are on my shoulders, alternately clutching and releasing. If that weren't enough, I can tell he approves of my work by the tiny sounds he utters, not quite grunts, but little catches of air in the back of his throat.

Eventually, I work my way down to his navel, and then I shift and dip my head to lick at his cock. I'm rewarded with a long groan and fingers digging into my shoulders. John lifts his hips, but I tease him by nipping and licking my way up one side of his cock and down the other.

His hands leave my shoulders and splay out on the bed to scrabble for purchase on the coverlet. I hold his hips down, not letting him move too much, and then, all of a sudden, I deep throat him. He bucks hard and cries out in pleasure. Up until now, neither of us have said much, but now he hisses my name between his teeth. "Rodney, Rodney, stop."

I immediately come to a dead halt and lifting my face I say, "What, are you all right, did I...?"

His hand snakes around behind my head and he pulls me up even with his face. "No, you're great. You're perfect. It's just that...well, I want to...um, if you keep doing that...." My intrepid major blushes deeply.

It is my turn to drawl. "So you're sayin' ya wanna fuck me, is that it?"

He looks me dead in the eye and husks, "That's it exactly."

Before I know it, we've switched places and now he's hovering over me. He spreads his long fingers and strokes down my chest, whispering things like, "oh yeah" and "uh huh" as he goes. He makes a brief foray into my navel and then, much to my surprise, takes me right into his mouth without a moment's hesitation. He licks and sucks as I moan and gasp. Then he leaves my cock and hikes up my ass so he can so he can take first one ball and then the other into his mouth. But when his tongue slides further down, tonguing me deep, I think I've died and gone to heaven. He works for a while, getting me good and wet, preparing me for what is next to come, and then he stops and looks up at me.

"More?"

Barely coherent, I somehow manage to nod. John stretches up and snags a tube of lube out from under his pillow. I give him a look and he laughs, high and sweet, and I'm enchanted all over again. That and horny as hell.

He works the lube into me, being entirely too gentle and I hurry him along by squirting some of the stuff in my hand and coating his cock. Then he takes my legs and drapes them over his broad shoulders.

"Now," I urge unnecessarily, because he's already centering on me and he slides home slowly – in one long excruciatingly slow glide.

"Oh," he says between clenched teeth when he's shoved up against my body, in deep, as far as he can go. "Oh man, that's good."

Together we begin a push me/pull you that seems to me as natural as breathing. He slides in and out, his long cock bumping my prostate and sending bursts of pleasure to my brain. I feel his sweat drop down on me, scalding hot as our pace quickens. His mouth is open and his eyes are closed as he plows into me, and I think he's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Then his eyes fly open and he gasps, "oh" and then, "Rodney." And he shoots molten lava deep into my ass and I'm coming, coming so hard it hits his throat and then smaps down on me.

When he flops down into my arms, I wind myself around him, not wanting to ever let go, but after a time, I feel his body sag against me, and I let him slip down and out of me. He rolls off me and onto his side, but he puts out his hand and rests it in the middle of my chest. He gazes at me for a minute, smiling that lazy smile of his, and then he closes his eyes. Before long, he's sound asleep.

Part 6 Sheppard

I wake up to the pleasure of Rodney still in my bed, and my little traveling alarm clock shows me I've slept for five hours. The man himself is sound asleep, his mouth open and his stubble beginning to show. A little thrill runs through me as I remember what we did together. I know now that I've wanted this for a while, I just would let myself see it, own it.

I know I want more of it, too, more of him, but I find myself worrying that he's going to be pissy and upset when he awakens. That gets me out of the bed, sliding carefully so as not to jostle him. I grab my pants and pull them on, and suddenly I realize I'm being watched.

Rodney's eyes are wary, maybe even scared. So I go over to the bed and lean down to plant a kiss on his stubbly cheek. "I gotta pee," I announce. "Go back to sleep, Ace. I'll be back in a sec."

Rodney blinks up at me as if he doesn't understand what I just said. He opens his mouth and then closes it. "Ace?" he asks finally.

I shrug. I'm not a hearts and flowers sort of guy, and there is no way I can tell him what this means to me, so the nickname will have to do. Swooping in close, I make him open his mouth again, because I take it in a quick messy kiss. When I pull away, his body follows and he gasps, "Wait...."

"Your room has an adjoining bath, doesn't it? No having to go down the hall, right? Then next time we're going to have to do this in your quarters," I tell him as I grab a tee shirt and tug it over my head. As I head out the door, I hear him say something in a smug, satisfied voice.

"Yeah, next time."

Finis