ficpost: "Sex Issues" McKay/Weir
Feb. 12th, 2005 11:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wisdomeagleTitle: "Sex Issues"
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Pairing: McKay/Weir
Rating: NC-17
Summary: A consummation. Elizabeth is still surprising.
Notes: Rodney stole his sex issues from me. I demand them back.To my knowledge, this is the first McWeir smutfic EVER posted on teh_intraweb. If I'm wrong, please direct me to the others. More in the comments.
Wordcount: 1,580
Sex Issues
Elizabeth came into Rodney's quarters looking angry, which wasn't actually all that unusual, but there was something unusual in her eyes. She looked -- well, furious was kind of a given. She looked unstable. She hadn't lost control yet, but she was definitely closer than Rodney had ever seen her. It was frightening; Elizabeth's self-control was the one thing he depended on, his one constant in a variable universe.
"Good evening, Rodney," she said, and he relaxed a little. This was how they usually played the game.
"Evening, Elizabeth," he said. "Rough day?"
"Very," she said dryly.
"I'm sorry." He struggled for the right words to say. When they weren't in the heat of an argument, when he didn't have an idea that needed defending, then talking to Elizabeth was difficult. She had needs that he wasn't sure he even understood. Not just girl stuff. Leader stuff. Diplomatic stuff. Elizabeth stuff.
She nodded. Tonight was not looking too good for getting a goodnight kiss. That was okay; he'd long been resigned to Elizabeth's sporadic gifts of affection. After all, he could hardly expect anything more, and it would be crazy to be upset that --
"Rodney, do you love me?"
"Of course," he said, before he could think. "I mean -- is that the right answer?"
She smiled at him oddly. "You really love me?"
"Yes," he said, aware that arguing with her now would be extremely dangerous. "I -- God, you don't have any idea how much."
"Good." Her voice was oddly emotionless, and when she took his hand in hers, he found that she was cold. Her long fingers brushed gently over his; he tried to take a breath and almost choked on it.
"I think I might be having an asthma attack, though."
She moved her hands back to her sides and his heart rate slowed. Elizabeth laughed a short, abrupt laugh, then smiled at him. "Come here."
Like an obedient little puppy -- or like an uncharacteristically obedient cat -- he walked towards her. He could feel her breath on his cheeks. She took a step towards him, and their hips were touching. He gulped.
She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a kiss. He fought down the rising panic and kissed her back, letting his lips open to her ever so slightly. She clung to him more tightly, and he started to wonder if maybe they should find the bed quickly when he felt a hint of tongue. Not panicking. He was not panicking. He was getting hard. Tongue. He found his own tongue unexpectedly still in his mouth. Experimentally he tried sharing it with Elizabeth, and miraculously she accepted him, and then they were rotating, slowly, spinning tight arcs across the floor of his quarters until they were next to his bed.
Elizabeth sat down and he took a moment to look down at her, eyes traveling from unruffled hair to perfectly defined jawbone to breathtaking breasts -- and he was having trouble breathing again. He sat down, if only to regain his footing, but that put him right to next to her, and in startlingly close proximity to breasts and to lips he had become unsettlingly familiar with. She kissed him again, briefly, harshly, then guided his hands to her bra clasp.
"You're all right with this, aren't you, Rodney?"
He nodded. Looked at his watch. Looked at Elizabeth. Started to unhook her bra from memory. It had been a long time since he'd stolen Jeanie's bra and practiced taking it off his life-size model of a human skeleton, but amazingly, he still remembered how. The bra was white and so was Elizabeth's skin. He reminded himself not to hyperventilate and touched her shoulder. It was smooth. His skin was way too rough to touch her but she relaxed into his fingers and he traced a line from her shoulder to her breast. Elizabeth's breast, oh God.
Fingers, skin, slow circles, three hundred sixty degrees, and around again, seven hundred twenty degrees. It was getting hot in there. In here. In somewhere. In. He was so terrified he forgot to be aroused, so Elizabeth put her hands around his head and smoothed his hair with those long fingers and leaned back, taking him with her, and then his mouth was on her breast.
He licked and at first it was just tasting, but she didn't taste like anything, just skin and sweat, but he felt her moving under him, and then he found her nipple and started to suck, gently, because he was afraid of breaking her, and he felt her moan. Because he had touched her, Elizabeth moaned. He sucked. Licked. Traced geometry on her skin and Euclid down the bare expanse between those beautiful breasts and the waistband of her pants. Her moans were unpredictable and musical, pitched lower and higher depending on which section of her anatomy he touched with his tongue.
His erection was pressing against his pants and baggy as they were, it was beginning to hurt. He tried, unsuccessfully, to unzip himself with one hand while still caressing Elizabeth with the other and also making her moan. She laughed, and sighed a bit distractedly, and between them they managed to get their pants off, and then there was only a tiny bit of cotton between Rodney's line of vision and Elizabeth's pussy, and some very loose boxer shorts between her hands and his cock.
"You're hard," she whispered. "For me?"
Her hands were resting on his waist, her touch so light he needed to really focus just to know she was still there. Then she slowly slid her hands lower and then he forgot about jerking off to Colonel Carter, forgot about every blonde woman and muscular man he'd ever fantasized about and he said, "Of course for you," he wheezed, and he thought they were probably the most romantic words he'd ever said.
Elizabeth's hands weren't anything like what he expected, but then, neither was her pussy when he finally got the courage to slip his fingers beneath the waistband of her underpants. She wasn't soaking wet, which made sense he supposed although he felt a little twinge of shame that he hadn't already made her come screaming his name, but he had a vague idea that kind of thing didn't really happen outside of bad pornos. Tiny tendrils of dampness hung from strands of hair, and when he smoothed a finger through her snatch, it came out slick. Anatomy lessons collided with Playboy in his mind and as he slid the white panties down her legs, she stretched her legs out and suddenly, she was Dr. Weir again, and he was quite decidedly not Dr. McKay. Staring open-mouthed at her exposed sex, he felt he would never be anything but pussy-whipped.
"Rodney," she said, stilling his hand and letting his fingers dangle uselessly in her arousal, "are you ready? do you want this? have you ever?"
"Of course I have," he said, then, "Once," then, "Not really."
"It's all right," she said, and she pulled him on top of her into another kiss, deeper, her tongue practically at the back of his throat. His dick smeared across her thigh and his head nearly exploded as she broke their kiss and rolled them over onto his back and lowered herself onto him. He didn't know why he didn't come right then, but she was doing something to stop him. It felt incredible, all of it, everything, breasts pressed into his chest and his legs scrambling to find a place to rest, against her legs, against his sheets, anywhere, and then the fucking amazing feeling of her wet, hot, tight cunt around his cock. The impressive Ivy League vocabulary drizzled out of his brain and out of his dick and there was only fuck and cunt and, overarching everything like a Grand Unifying Theory, there was Elizabeth, planting little kisses all around his mouth but missing his lips, touching him with every part of her body all at once, Elizabeth, his Elizabeth, and when he came he went rigid and then collapsed and all thoughts of every kind simply vanished from his brain.
"Rodney -- Rodney!" He jerked to awareness. "Oh, thank God. You passed out," said a gentle voice, and her gentleness made him want to pass out again and avoid hearing her talk to him. "I was afraid I'd have to call Dr. Beckett, and I really wasn't relishing explaining to Carson why I was in your room when you passed out from sexual exhaustion."
He buried his head in a pillow that was miraculously beneath his face and muttered, "I'm sorry."
Elizabeth rested a hand on his bare back, and he felt the shame of his nakedness and of her gentleness. "I -- I'm sorry," she said. For a minute he was wildly afraid that she was breaking up with him, but then she continued to stroke his back, and it felt exquisite, once he got over the embarrassment of being naked in front of her. "I love you, you know," she said, so soft it was almost a whisper.
He shuddered and tried to sink deeper into the bed, but she wouldn't let him; she kept on touching him, forcing him to realize her presence. He rolled over and propped himself up on his hand, and when he looked, Elizabeth wasn't angry anymore, and he wondered when that had happened.
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Pairing: McKay/Weir
Rating: NC-17
Summary: A consummation. Elizabeth is still surprising.
Notes: Rodney stole his sex issues from me. I demand them back.
Wordcount: 1,580
Sex Issues
Elizabeth came into Rodney's quarters looking angry, which wasn't actually all that unusual, but there was something unusual in her eyes. She looked -- well, furious was kind of a given. She looked unstable. She hadn't lost control yet, but she was definitely closer than Rodney had ever seen her. It was frightening; Elizabeth's self-control was the one thing he depended on, his one constant in a variable universe.
"Good evening, Rodney," she said, and he relaxed a little. This was how they usually played the game.
"Evening, Elizabeth," he said. "Rough day?"
"Very," she said dryly.
"I'm sorry." He struggled for the right words to say. When they weren't in the heat of an argument, when he didn't have an idea that needed defending, then talking to Elizabeth was difficult. She had needs that he wasn't sure he even understood. Not just girl stuff. Leader stuff. Diplomatic stuff. Elizabeth stuff.
She nodded. Tonight was not looking too good for getting a goodnight kiss. That was okay; he'd long been resigned to Elizabeth's sporadic gifts of affection. After all, he could hardly expect anything more, and it would be crazy to be upset that --
"Rodney, do you love me?"
"Of course," he said, before he could think. "I mean -- is that the right answer?"
She smiled at him oddly. "You really love me?"
"Yes," he said, aware that arguing with her now would be extremely dangerous. "I -- God, you don't have any idea how much."
"Good." Her voice was oddly emotionless, and when she took his hand in hers, he found that she was cold. Her long fingers brushed gently over his; he tried to take a breath and almost choked on it.
"I think I might be having an asthma attack, though."
She moved her hands back to her sides and his heart rate slowed. Elizabeth laughed a short, abrupt laugh, then smiled at him. "Come here."
Like an obedient little puppy -- or like an uncharacteristically obedient cat -- he walked towards her. He could feel her breath on his cheeks. She took a step towards him, and their hips were touching. He gulped.
She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a kiss. He fought down the rising panic and kissed her back, letting his lips open to her ever so slightly. She clung to him more tightly, and he started to wonder if maybe they should find the bed quickly when he felt a hint of tongue. Not panicking. He was not panicking. He was getting hard. Tongue. He found his own tongue unexpectedly still in his mouth. Experimentally he tried sharing it with Elizabeth, and miraculously she accepted him, and then they were rotating, slowly, spinning tight arcs across the floor of his quarters until they were next to his bed.
Elizabeth sat down and he took a moment to look down at her, eyes traveling from unruffled hair to perfectly defined jawbone to breathtaking breasts -- and he was having trouble breathing again. He sat down, if only to regain his footing, but that put him right to next to her, and in startlingly close proximity to breasts and to lips he had become unsettlingly familiar with. She kissed him again, briefly, harshly, then guided his hands to her bra clasp.
"You're all right with this, aren't you, Rodney?"
He nodded. Looked at his watch. Looked at Elizabeth. Started to unhook her bra from memory. It had been a long time since he'd stolen Jeanie's bra and practiced taking it off his life-size model of a human skeleton, but amazingly, he still remembered how. The bra was white and so was Elizabeth's skin. He reminded himself not to hyperventilate and touched her shoulder. It was smooth. His skin was way too rough to touch her but she relaxed into his fingers and he traced a line from her shoulder to her breast. Elizabeth's breast, oh God.
Fingers, skin, slow circles, three hundred sixty degrees, and around again, seven hundred twenty degrees. It was getting hot in there. In here. In somewhere. In. He was so terrified he forgot to be aroused, so Elizabeth put her hands around his head and smoothed his hair with those long fingers and leaned back, taking him with her, and then his mouth was on her breast.
He licked and at first it was just tasting, but she didn't taste like anything, just skin and sweat, but he felt her moving under him, and then he found her nipple and started to suck, gently, because he was afraid of breaking her, and he felt her moan. Because he had touched her, Elizabeth moaned. He sucked. Licked. Traced geometry on her skin and Euclid down the bare expanse between those beautiful breasts and the waistband of her pants. Her moans were unpredictable and musical, pitched lower and higher depending on which section of her anatomy he touched with his tongue.
His erection was pressing against his pants and baggy as they were, it was beginning to hurt. He tried, unsuccessfully, to unzip himself with one hand while still caressing Elizabeth with the other and also making her moan. She laughed, and sighed a bit distractedly, and between them they managed to get their pants off, and then there was only a tiny bit of cotton between Rodney's line of vision and Elizabeth's pussy, and some very loose boxer shorts between her hands and his cock.
"You're hard," she whispered. "For me?"
Her hands were resting on his waist, her touch so light he needed to really focus just to know she was still there. Then she slowly slid her hands lower and then he forgot about jerking off to Colonel Carter, forgot about every blonde woman and muscular man he'd ever fantasized about and he said, "Of course for you," he wheezed, and he thought they were probably the most romantic words he'd ever said.
Elizabeth's hands weren't anything like what he expected, but then, neither was her pussy when he finally got the courage to slip his fingers beneath the waistband of her underpants. She wasn't soaking wet, which made sense he supposed although he felt a little twinge of shame that he hadn't already made her come screaming his name, but he had a vague idea that kind of thing didn't really happen outside of bad pornos. Tiny tendrils of dampness hung from strands of hair, and when he smoothed a finger through her snatch, it came out slick. Anatomy lessons collided with Playboy in his mind and as he slid the white panties down her legs, she stretched her legs out and suddenly, she was Dr. Weir again, and he was quite decidedly not Dr. McKay. Staring open-mouthed at her exposed sex, he felt he would never be anything but pussy-whipped.
"Rodney," she said, stilling his hand and letting his fingers dangle uselessly in her arousal, "are you ready? do you want this? have you ever?"
"Of course I have," he said, then, "Once," then, "Not really."
"It's all right," she said, and she pulled him on top of her into another kiss, deeper, her tongue practically at the back of his throat. His dick smeared across her thigh and his head nearly exploded as she broke their kiss and rolled them over onto his back and lowered herself onto him. He didn't know why he didn't come right then, but she was doing something to stop him. It felt incredible, all of it, everything, breasts pressed into his chest and his legs scrambling to find a place to rest, against her legs, against his sheets, anywhere, and then the fucking amazing feeling of her wet, hot, tight cunt around his cock. The impressive Ivy League vocabulary drizzled out of his brain and out of his dick and there was only fuck and cunt and, overarching everything like a Grand Unifying Theory, there was Elizabeth, planting little kisses all around his mouth but missing his lips, touching him with every part of her body all at once, Elizabeth, his Elizabeth, and when he came he went rigid and then collapsed and all thoughts of every kind simply vanished from his brain.
"Rodney -- Rodney!" He jerked to awareness. "Oh, thank God. You passed out," said a gentle voice, and her gentleness made him want to pass out again and avoid hearing her talk to him. "I was afraid I'd have to call Dr. Beckett, and I really wasn't relishing explaining to Carson why I was in your room when you passed out from sexual exhaustion."
He buried his head in a pillow that was miraculously beneath his face and muttered, "I'm sorry."
Elizabeth rested a hand on his bare back, and he felt the shame of his nakedness and of her gentleness. "I -- I'm sorry," she said. For a minute he was wildly afraid that she was breaking up with him, but then she continued to stroke his back, and it felt exquisite, once he got over the embarrassment of being naked in front of her. "I love you, you know," she said, so soft it was almost a whisper.
He shuddered and tried to sink deeper into the bed, but she wouldn't let him; she kept on touching him, forcing him to realize her presence. He rolled over and propped himself up on his hand, and when he looked, Elizabeth wasn't angry anymore, and he wondered when that had happened.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-02-13 05:04 am (UTC)I love- love- LOVE this. It's so. It's really wonderful, you know that? It's so fragile and funny and sweet. And so very, very Rodney, and you're making my crush on him worse.
Some of my favorite bits:
"Rodney, do you love me?"
"Of course," he said, before he could think. "I mean -- is that the right answer?"
"Good." Her voice was oddly emotionless, and when she took his hand in hers, he found that she was cold. Her long fingers brushed gently over his; he tried to take a breath and almost choked on it.
"I think I might be having an asthma attack, though."
"Of course I have," he said, then, "Once," then, "Not really."
And. Just. Everything. I love it.
Thank you! :)
(no subject)
Date: 2005-02-13 05:04 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-02-13 05:08 am (UTC)Hee, I adore Rodney so much. I'm so glad you liked it.
*squees her way off to
bedmore timewasting webpages*(no subject)
Date: 2005-02-13 05:10 am (UTC)I kind of love it a lot.
Sigh.
*loves Rodney*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-02-13 06:19 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-02-13 03:49 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-02-13 09:16 am (UTC)"Rodney, do you love me?"
"Of course," he said, before he could think. "I mean -- is that the right answer?"
Yep. That's Rodney ::beam::
To my knowledge, this is the first McWeir smutfic EVER posted on teh_intraweb. If I'm wrong, please direct me to the others.
Sorry :) There's a couple of NC-17 stories posted on Wraithbait, here in fact. Medies's, in particular, made me smile. But there certainly isn't enough of it.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-02-13 03:49 pm (UTC)Thanks for the links.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-02-13 11:10 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-02-13 01:38 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-02-13 05:42 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-02-13 01:39 pm (UTC)And, yes there is more, but not nearly enough! I found the Wraithbait ones too ;D
(no subject)
Date: 2005-02-13 03:49 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-02-14 04:01 pm (UTC)See? All that was missing was the smut. And this is good smut and I love every bit about your Rodney characterization, and I just squeee'd all the way through, which is a Very Good Thing since it's not even my pairing! It's just THAT GOOD. YAY for you! :)
*bounces and cheers more*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-02-14 05:20 pm (UTC)Heeeee! Porn makes the world a better place. :D
I'm DELIGHTED that you read and liked.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-02-14 07:07 pm (UTC)... oh no! It's like a gateway drug!! *is being pulled toward your OTP*
I don't read smut. Hell no, what do you take me for?
Date: 2005-05-23 12:03 pm (UTC)*falls off chair laughing*
Sweet. So McKay... :P
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-23 06:18 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-27 10:42 am (UTC)S'yummy. Absolutely delicious. Read it three times just to make sure *grins*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-27 02:42 pm (UTC)