A strangled whimper was the only clue Rodney McKay had.He turned at the sound, only to be pushed back against the wall by a hard body. Rodney opened his mouth to protest, but a warm, frantic tongue invaded, intent on devouring his tonsils. His hands came up to push the attacker away, but instead curled into the jacket as his brain identified the smell and taste of his attacker - John Sheppard.
Not knowing what brought on John's amorous attack, but not really caring after too many years of being celibate during college and grad school and let's not forget the fun vacation to Siberia and damn, John was good with his hands. John had gotten Rodney's pants open and his hand was wrapped around Rodney's cock, the other hand on Rodney's back, under his shirt. John's mouth left Rodney's to travel down his neck, tugging down the neck of his shirt to expose Rodney's collarbone. John sucked on it as his hand stroked Rodney's cock. Rodney whimpered, feeling John's own erection pressing hard against his hip. Rodney let go of John's jacket with one hand and reached down to John's fly, pulling the zipper down and slipping in the opening to find John's cock. John hissed against Rodney's skin as Rodney pulled the hard flesh free.
Rodney matched his strokes to John's, speeding up and slowing down in tandem. Rodney was just starting to think he'd go insane when John's grip tightened, increasing the friction, causing Rodney to gasp out John's name as he came, spilling over his lover's hand and still clutching John's jacket like a lifeline to reality.
Rodney managed to keep his hand moving despite his brain being obliterated, feeling John throb and hot liquid coat his hand as John came. John bit the flesh above Rodney's collarbone, hissing out his pleasure. The pain sent aftershocks through Rodney's body.
For long minutes, neither man moved. They stayed leaning against the wall, holding onto each other as they slowly recovered. When John stirred, kissing the bite mark he'd made, Rodney finally spoke.
"Not that I'm really complaining here, but what was that all about?"
John pulled back a few inches; Rodney felt cold. Pointing toward the bed, John ducked his head. "I opened the door and saw you doing that and, fuck..." John trailed off.
Rodney raised an eyebrow. "That turned you on?"
John nodded, grinning sheepishly.
Rodney shook his head. "Field stripping and cleaning a P90 is your idea of foreplay?"
John grinned wider and leaned in to lick Rodney's neck. "Only when," John said as he licked up Rodney's jaw, "the P90 is being stripped," he moved closer to Rodney's lips, "by a scientist with great hands." John kissed Rodney deeply. Rodney gave in, deciding he'd put those hands to good use.
But he still filed away John's little turn on for later use.