Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This

by Reedfem

URL: http://www.area52hkh.net/asr/reedfem/sweetdreams.php
Summary: Rodney has a little problem with reality

Rodney McKay was a happy man.

He shouldn't be, he knew that, especially after nearly getting fried by that gaseous lifeform, not to mention losing one of the precious power generators. Carson had checked him over afterward and found no physical injuries, but then the reality of what had happened sunk in, and Rodney had started feeling shaky. The doctor had given him a shot of something and sent him along to his quarters with orders to rest.

Rodney, worn out, had immediately flopped down on his bed and dropped off to sleep. He'd never been one for vivid dreams, but God only knew what sort of hallucinogenic concoction Carson had pumped him full of--not that he was going to complain too much. This was the best dream Rodney had ever had.

He knew he was dreaming when John stopped by to check on him. Rodney was pretty sure the major didn't even know where his room was. But even if John did know, he certainly would never just come in and sit down beside Rodney on his bed like that. Plus, Dream John was wearing casual clothes--jeans and the black shirt that had made Rodney's mouth water the first time he'd seen John wearing it.

He still thought John looked good enough to eat. And because Rodney had been raised to embrace the philosophy of the clean plate club, and because it was Rodney's dream, he decided to go straight to the licking clean. He reached out and pulled John in for an experimental taste test. John's lips tasted as good as they looked.

"Rodney?" John reared back and stared at him thoughtfully.

"What?" Rodney pulled at the black shirt. "Take this off."

"Rodney? You feeling all right?"

"No I'm not all right," Rodney told him, still working to free John from his shirt. "I was nearly killed today. But we're in *my* dream, and I can do what I please."

"Your.dream?"

"Yes, *my* dream. That's what I said, isn't it? I was nearly killed, Carson shot me full of this wonderful narcotic and.why am I explaining this to you? More importantly, why are you still wearing that shirt?" Rodney was surprised Dream John would argue with him.

"Why am I in your dream, Rodney?" John asked with a bemused smile.

"So I can do this." Rodney pulled John down onto the bed and launched a thorough investigation into whether or not he'd ever had a childhood tonsillectomy.

"Okay, ask a silly question." John muttered when Rodney finally let him up for air. They stared at each other for a moment before John smiled and smoothed his palm over the side of Rodney's face. Then he slid his hand around behind Rodney's head and pulled him back in. Rodney felt John sigh. The kiss was slow and deep, a long, lazy tongue wrestle. Kissing John was everything Rodney had imagined it would be.

"Rodney?" John breathed.

"Hmmm?" Rodney felt teeth tugging on his earlobe and hands caressing him, pushing under his shirt.

"Take off your clothes."

John helped peel off Rodney's uniform before tossing off his own clothing. He stood for a moment beside the bed, letting Rodney look his fill. Then John pounced on Rodney, straddling his hips and pressing his hard cock against Rodney's belly as he fused their mouths together. Rodney relished the feeling of John devouring him, open-mouthed and hungry, as if he wanted to consume Rodney entirely. Rodney understood, because he wanted to do the same thing to John.

John interrupted his feast and brushed his lips across Rodney's face, pausing for a deep sniff of Rodney's hair. "You smell good," John told him, as he pulled his tongue out of Rodney's ear and began tracing a path down the side of his neck. Rodney decided John had a thing for nipples. Rodney knew this because John's mouth had attached itself to Rodney's chest and his tongue was doing remarkable things--wonderful, wet, slurpy things, things that made Rodney moan and thrash.

Lips grazed his stomach and traveled further down. Rodney's eyes rolled back in his head and he whimpered softly when he discovered what else John had a thing for. That soft, wet tongue dragged along the underside of his shaft, then stopped to tickle the tip of his dick when it got to the top. John swallowed his cock almost whole, and a gentle hand teased his balls until Rodney was gasping and bucking his hips. Rodney lost himself in the feel of John's mouth around him, the careful scrape of teeth, the hands kneading and stroking. As Rodney teetered on the brink of a mind-shattering orgasm, John's mouth left his cock. Rodney was so far gone; it took him a second to realize it when the sensations stopped.

Rodney stared in confusion at the face now hovering over his.

"You.stopped. That was.oh god.don't.Why did you stop?" Rodney was perplexed. This was *his* dream, after all. Rodney was sure he hadn't asked John to stop. John leaned down and kissed Rodney again, a long, deep, lingering kiss that actually made Rodney's toes curl.

"What do you want?"

"What.?" Rodney stared blankly at John until he realized that his dream was back on track.

"It's *your* dream, remember? How do you want to finish this?"

What did he want? His mind whirled. Rodney had enough ideas for a dozen dreams. The slick hardness of his aching cock sliding against John's skin decided him. And even though it was his dream, he had some trouble actually saying the words.

"I want to fuck you," Rodney finally blurted out.

John's eyes squeezed shut, a shudder of arousal running through him as he dropped his head and pressed his lips to Rodney's throat.

"Okay," John said softly. "We can do that. How.?"

Rodney held back a moan and wondered if it were possible to just stay asleep forever, because this was absolutely, positively the most wonderful dream Rodney had ever had. He rolled John off him, adjusted him so he lay on his side, and then snuggled up close behind, nestling his cock against John's ass.

"Like this," Rodney murmured, rocking his groin forward while nibbling the side of John's neck. John moaned in pleasure as Rodney's hand snaked around his waist and began to slowly stroke John's cock in rhythm with his gentle thrusts. It wasn't long before John pressed back when Rodney thrust forward. But when Rodney shifted their position a bit and began stroking deeper between John's legs, he tensed slightly.

"Rodney?"

"What?" Rodney hated being interrupted when he was concentrating.

"There's some lube in this dream, right?"

"Uhm." Rodney said, surprised. He was pretty sure Dream John came with a self-lubricating ass.

"Because.ah.you know, I've never actually done the whole penetration thing before," John continued.

Rodney's cock surprised him by jerking excitedly, and in his effort to stave off an untimely climax; he bit down hard on the junction of John's neck and shoulder. John yelped, and Rodney immediately eased up.

"You're a kinky bastard, Rodney," John groused, rubbing the injury.

Rodney chuckled as he produced a small tube from a table beside the bed. "You have *no* idea." he muttered, deploying the lube. "Hell, *I* had no idea, and I'm the one who dreamed you up."

"Up is good," John agreed, reaching around to help.

"Never been anyone's first," Rodney mused, pulling his fingers from John's ass and centering himself. "Never even considered it, actually. So why would I dream up this particular scenario? Oh, that's nice," he hissed as he began to sink slowly into John's warmth.

"Maybe," John panted, "I'm dreaming about you too." He sucked in his breath. "Maybe we're having the same dream?" Slow deep breath out. John reached back and clenched Rodney's thigh. "Wait."

Rodney's dream didn't include hurting John, so while he waited for him to relax, Rodney slid his hand around and discovered John's mostly wilted cock. It was soft and pliant in his hand as Rodney began caressing it. John moaned as it twitched and began to stir back to life. Rodney wondered what John would look like when he came, what noises he would make, what he tasted like. He imagined John's orgasm interacting with his Ancient gene to do something absurd like making alarms sound or lights flash.

"Okay." John began moving his hips and pressed back again, so Rodney pushed forward slowly and was shocked when he slid smoothly all the way in, John's ass bumping solidly against his groin.

"Fuck!" Rodney hadn't meant to just shove it in like that. He rubbed John's back in what he hoped was a soothing manner. "You all right?"

John responded by thrusting his ass firmly back at Rodney. "Yes.do that again!"

Rodney thrust forward slowly and John made a noise that reminded Rodney of the squeaky hinge on the front door of his apartment. The doors on Atlantis all slid open and closed like the ones on Star Trek. Rodney realized he missed regular doors. He missed his apartment and his cat and his life where no one tried to hurt or kill him on a regular basis. He thrust forward again, hoping to make John squeak like that again.

Rodney liked Dream John. He decided he might even like him better than the real John, because the real John would never do this, would never let Rodney slide his cock into him, would never push back against him or make all those exciting noises. The real John would probably try to break his face if Rodney ever suggested such a thing. The real John would certainly never dream about Rodney.

Rodney continued his deep, slow thrusting and before too long John's body tensed up and began to tremble. "Oh shit.Rodnuuh." John whimpered as he convulsed, coming long and hard. Rodney tightened his embrace and held John close while he rode out the pleasure.

Then Rodney concentrated on the overwhelming sensation of pushing into the velvety warmth that was Dream John until he too shuddered violently, burying himself deeply and growling John's name. Rodney bit down on John's neck, marking him again, coming so hard he figured he'd taste himself in John's mouth the next time they kissed.

Rodney made a move to pull out, but John turned his head a bit and said, "Stay." Rodney's cock was so sensitive that it almost hurt as John's body continued to clutch at him in little aftershocks, but John had asked him to do something and Rodney was going to be a team player. They stayed spooned together for a time, silently holding and stroking each other. Rodney wondered if the real John would be tender like this, and was sad that he would never have an opportunity to find out. They eventually shifted around on the bed and John's dick twitched against Rodney's thigh, startling him. John looked sheepish and gave Rodney a rueful grin.

"You're worn out," John said as he moved in to share another kiss. It was gentle and sensual and erotic and Rodney thought he might start twitching too. But John just threw an arm over him, closed his eyes and said, "Sleep." Rodney opened his mouth to protest that he wasn't *that* tired and surprised himself by yawning. Just before he dropped off, he wondered vaguely what a psychologist would make of falling asleep in your own dream.

Rodney woke up disoriented the next morning, confused at finding himself alone in his embarrassingly sticky bed. His dream had been so real, so perfect that actual reality was a bit of a letdown. Feeling out of sorts, Rodney pulled off the sheets, showered and headed off to find breakfast and some coffee. After that, he intended to have a few words with Carson Beckett.

***

Rodney McKay was not a happy man. His conversation with Carson had been futile; the doctor swore he'd given Rodney a standard tranquilizer. When Carson offered to run some tests, Rodney declined and hurried off to his lab, intent on losing himself in his work.

Rodney didn't spend much time on self-analysis, he preferred the therapy he found in solving problems and figuring out how things worked. But today, a vague, unsettling feeling of loss persisted and Rodney found it difficult to concentrate. In fact, the whole day had positively dragged by. It was late, past dinnertime, and Rodney had managed to get precisely squat accomplished.

"Hey, McKay."

Startled, Rodney looked up from his laptop into John Sheppard's handsome smiling face. The major had not only entered the lab without Rodney noticing, he'd crossed the room and perched one butt cheek on the corner of Rodney's desk.

Rodney inexplicably--well, not so inexplicably, he amended--found his head filled with forbidden erotic images from his dream: John kissing him, sucking him, moaning Rodney's name as he came.

"McKay? You all right?" Rodney hadn't responded to his greeting, and now Sheppard was looking at him with concern. "You seem a little out of it."

"Yes. Fine. I'm fine," Rodney stammered, feeling foolish. He gave himself a mental kick in the butt. It had just been dream--a really detailed, sexy dream, but a dream nonetheless.

"You sure? You look a little ragged. Rough day in the old lab?" Sheppard winked and patted his shoulder sympathetically.

"Something like that," Rodney agreed, jerking back a little at Sheppard's touch, not noticing the slight frown that crossed Sheppard's face.

"Maybe you should pay Beckett a call. I'll bet he could fix you up with something."

Rodney stared at Sheppard sadly. It was all Carson's fault, he realized. "Yes, maybe I'll do that. In fact," he continued, pushing back his chair and standing up, "I think I'll go right now. Good night, Major."

"Yeah, okay. Have a nice evening." Sheppard paused, looking like there was more, but all he said was, "Sweet dreams, Rodney."

Rodney nodded as he hustled out of the lab, intent only on escaping Sheppard's presence before he embarrassed himself. It wasn't until he'd nearly reached his room that something struck him about the encounter in his lab, something he'd missed in his desperate flight from the room.

Rodney replayed the scene in his mind and froze in shock when he realized what it was he'd been too freaked to notice earlier. Peeking out from under the collar of the Major's shirt--not really obvious to a casual observer--had been a matching pair of teeth marks.