Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Summary: All things considered, their situation could have been much worse. Really.
Author's Notes: Thanks go to my beta magnifica7, according to whom this is the longest PWP ever. I disagree with her on that. Really, there's a three-page-intro! My thanks go also to mamoru22 for her mental support.
Feedback: Always welcome
Disclaimer: The usual stuff applies
All things considered, their situation could have been much worse. Really.
Granted, they were stuck. But they were stuck on a small, distant planet with 1.1Gs, large, green, healthy trees as far as the human eye could see, and temperatures mostly above 20 degrees Celsius. Furthermore the UAV had suggested that the planet was probably uninhabited by intelligent life and no one had spotted a monster. Yet. So far everything Colonel Sheppard has seen suited him just fine.
Their mission had sounded easy enough; piece of cake in fact. According to Elizabeth’s briefing, they were to gate to PX3-779, collect a bunch of additional data that the first two teams who had come here hadn’t managed to obtain due to special circumstances. Namely that this planet had some sort of time window in which one could travel to and from it. McKay had explained it in great and glorious detail but Sheppard had zoned out around the words solar flares and their effects on an establishing wormhole.
Naturally, as soon as they had arrived at the Ancient ruin site, McKay had found something the scientists on the previous teams hadn’t and although Sheppard had succeeded to send Ronan and Teyla back through the Gate in time so they could tell Elizabeth they were going to be late because of some great, scientific finding Dr. McKay had made, he himself and McKay were now forced to remain here for the duration of the solar flare. Or maybe the time between solar flares, Sheppard wasn’t sure. He certainly wasn’t going to ask McKay and thereby give away that he hadn’t paid attention during his explanation. Also, knowing McKay, it was going to come up again sooner or later anyway.
Not long after, Sheppard had inwardly decided to make the best of their situation and take this as an opportunity to get some time off and hence he was in a pretty good mood when he started collecting firewood, whistling a tad too enthusiastically. He wasn’t usually prone to whistle but he could see the annoyed glances McKay threw him in between his still ongoing scans and that alone made it more than worth it.
“You can pretend to be not mad about this as long as you like, Colonel. You’re not fooling me. I know you’re pissed,” McKay announced, his voice thick with his standard amount of sarcasm. Sheppard ignored him, continued piling up the wood in neat boy-scout manner instead.
McKay had come over the few meters from the ruins to the campsite where Sheppard now began emptying out his backpack. Sleeping bags, MREs, oh and yes, matchbook and fire-starter. Sheppard congratulated himself that he had ordered (and McKay noisily complained about) to embark with their full gear. That meant they even had a small pan to fry something in. Not that they had anything to fry. Just the MREs and a couple of power bars. Also, they would have to start looking for water should they have to stay more than twenty-four hours.
“It’s not my fault,” McKay informed him.
“Really?” Sheppard baited, watching how McKay settled down near the soon-to-be fireplace with his ever-present laptop and some Ancient doohickey in his hands. To Sheppard it looked like a half-finished three-dimensional puzzle of the Eiffel Tower.
“Absolutely not! If Greensfield and/or Hunter had done their jobs right, they would have noticed the irregular power signature on their trips here, and I wouldn’t have to do all the work myself and we wou--- Ow!” McKay shrieked and Sheppard looked up to find him alternately shaking his right hand and trying to keep it still to get a look at it.
“Now what did you do?” Sheppard walked over and knelt next to Rodney on the ground. “Do you want me to kiss it better?”
“Funny,” McKay snarled at him. “I cut myself on the, eh, the, uh... Possible Quantum Dispe---“
“Yeah, we can name it later,” Sheppard cut him off and caught McKay’s hand out of the air when he still wouldn’t stop waving it about.
“Watch it!” McKay snapped but held still when Sheppard inspected the cut. “Do you think it needs stitches?” he asked eagerly, somehow managing to sound like he almost wanted it to but also nearly freaking out at the mere thought.
Sheppard rolled his eyes and got up to fetch the first aid kit. “It’s just a scratch, McKay. You’ll pull through.”
“That’s easy for you to say, you’re not hurt! And it does hurt! Also? It’s bleeding!” Although McKay’s tone suggested that he was dangerously close to losing the finger, Sheppard knew McKay well enough to know that he wasn’t really that upset about this.
He hunched back down and took a hold of McKay’s injured hand again. “Gee, Rodney, I just hope all your shots are up to date,” he drawled, checking the small wound again, satisfied that it had already stopped bleeding.
McKay frowned and appeared to be thinking about this for a second. “How the hell should I know? You’d have to ask Carson. They certainly should be seeing how many needles he sticks into me. Be careful with that,” he admonished when he saw the alcohol pad Sheppard had torn open.
“Don’t worry, I will be. Just clench your teeth for a second, Rodney.” Sheppard had a Band Aid around the finger in record time.
“So,” Sheppard said, restoring the Kit. “Macaroni and Cheese?”
McKay looked up from inspecting his bandaged finger with a big smile on his face. “Yes! That sounds good! Hey, I even have some coffee to go with those!”
Sheppard shook his head, smiling unbelievingly. He kept forgetting that McKay was the only person who actually liked MREs. “You’re weird that way, you know that, McKay?”
“Why? Because I like to know what my food is made of and that it has been freed of salmonella and other nasty kinds of germs?”
“Yeah, well, I usually eat food that is free of germs and I mostly know where it comes from too.” He raised his index finger for emphasis. “Plus it usually has the added benefit of actually tasting like something you can eat.” But McKay wasn’t even listening to him anymore, already concentrating on connecting his laptop to the Possible Quantum Dispe... “Later,” Sheppard reminded himself under his breath.
Soon dusk was coming around and Sheppard threw McKay a speculative glance. “Do you think we will need the tent?” he asked innocuously.
McKay snorted. “I believe out of the two of us, you’re the one who’s in charge of surviving on alien planets and since you know just as well as I do how long exactly we’re going to be here...” he trailed off, eyes sparkling mischievously and the glee in his voice was barely concealed.
Obviously busted, Sheppard back-paddled. “I just can’t remember if it was the Olympic games or the Olympiad.”
“Oh, will you stop with the metaphors already?” McKay checked his watch with the air of a man who had to explain the simplest things to a group of idiots over and over again. “Sixteen hours, twelve minutes. And for your information, it’s the Olympiad.”
Sheppard bounced and flashed him a grin. “Great! Then I’ll erect the tent. It’ll be nice and cozy next to the fire.” He rubbed his hands in joyful anticipation and got to work.
McKay rolled his eyes. “I will never understand the appeal of camping, I’m afraid.”
Half an hour later, the sun had set almost entirely, the fire was blazing to Sheppard’s content, the tent stood and there was even a pot of boiling water on the fire. He nodded, satisfied with his handy work and looked over to McKay who was still punishing his computer.
“You about done there, Rodney? Building our camp all by myself has left me kinda hungry.”
“And you don’t want to eat alone? How unexpectedly romantic of you,” McKay sniped but closed down his laptop and came to sit next to him on the log Sheppard had half-dragged, half-rolled in front of the fire. And no amount of exaggerated grunting had made McKay help him with that, either. McKay rummaged through his backpack until he had unearthed the coffee grounds, a filter, and two cups.
They exchanged coffee and MREs and ate in silence, taking their time. Neither of them spoke and Sheppard suspected McKay was either more tired than he let on or he was enjoying the scenery and the fire and the all-around camping atmosphere after all. Not that Sheppard expected him to admit it.
Either way, it was nice to sit peacefully by a fire that was hot and dry on their faces, no headsets that could go off at any minute, no Wraith to worry about for once and last but not least good company. Not that too many people would believe that.
The last remaining daylight faded quickly and soon the moon and their fire were the only sources of light. Sheppard had made a bet with himself how long it would take McKay to freak out about the wild animals that would surely kill them messily and painfully and devour them during the night. Although so far Sheppard hadn’t even seen the proverbial rabbit he’d had half a mind of shooting, skinning and having for dinner. But he supposed that would be taking the analogy one step too far. He did wish they had some marshmallows, though.
He heard McKay taking a deep breath and thought ‘here we go’ but then McKay said apropos of nothing: “I had a girlfriend once who could make me come in 90 seconds. Sometimes less.”
To his credit, Sheppard did not choke on his coffee but he wondered briefly if they were really drinking nothing but. He simply turned his head slowly towards McKay, keeping his features carefully schooled and drew one inquisitive eyebrow up to his hairline.
McKay shifted anxiously beside him on the log. “What? I thought sharing embarrassing secrets was a requirement when going on a camping trip with your buddies.”
Sheppard shook his head minutely, squinting. “Okay, one, who told you that and two, why do you think having a girlfriend who can get you off in one and a half minutes or under is embarrassing?” He rubbed his hand thoughtfully over his stubbled chin. “Eh, by the way, how did she...” and then he bit his tongue, instantly wishing he had kept his mouth shut.
“Well, it’s always like this in the movies and it’s not the fact that she, you know, did what she did that’s embarrassing to me but the fact that I’m telling you and do you really want to know?”
Sheppard couldn’t help himself, he just couldn’t. He was a guy after all. He nodded. Curtly. And only once.
McKay’s gaze shifted between him and the fire a couple of times. “Well, you know, she, uh, she, hmm, blew me and then---“ He blushed furiously, brandishing his hand wildly through the air. “You know!” he finished with a groan. Nothing else came forward and Sheppard raised both his eyebrows and gestured encouragingly. McKay fidgeted some more as he blurted: “She kinda, hm, pushed a finger into my rectum and rubbed it over my prostate gland.” He’d cast his eyes down, keeping his gaze fixed on the ground, his fingers entangling and disentangling restlessly, and Sheppard could honestly say he had never seen anyone look quite so embarrassed. And when he didn’t say anything after two seconds, McKay went right on babbling. “She only did it when she wanted something from me and it started out as a bet about whether I was going to accompany her to her brother’s wedding. And I really didn’t think she could do it! Anyway, we eventually broke up. She studied Japanology and our schedules didn’t combine easily and then she had to actually go to Japan for two years and that’s when we called it off for good.” He threw Sheppard a sideways glance. “We didn’t stay in touch. Her name was Chloe,” he added as though that would explain everything.
“Wow,” Sheppard finally said, swallowing dry.
“Wow? That’s it? That’s all you have to say to that? I spill one of my deepest secrets to you and all you can come up with is ‘wow?’”
Sheppard raised both his hands in a universal non-threatening gesture. “I meant: Wow, I’m impressed. I mean, really, she must have been something.”
McKay nodded vehemently. “She was. I tried to reciprocate but apparently I wasn’t very good at eating pussy.”
Sheppard blinked, hard, keeping his jaw shut with considerable effort. McKay talking dirty wasn’t something he had expected. Ever. He cleared his throat, getting a grip on himself. “Tell me again why you brought this up?”
“Well, clearly I was trying to respond appropriately.”
Sheppard used his eyebrows to convey his astonishment. “Respond appropriately? To what?” he asked, intrigued despite himself.
McKay raised his chin in that self-righteous way of his. “Your advances, obviously,” he said defiantly.
This was getting better and better. “My advances?” Sheppard repeated slowly, incredulously.
“Oh, please. Sending Teyla and Ronon back to Atlantis so you could be alone with me? The ‘erect the tent’ bit? The not eating alone? Kissing it better? Hello?”
“Huh,” Sheppard made, leaning back on the log. He hadn’t thought of it like that but he could see now how McKay could interpret it that way.
“Well?” McKay prompted.
“That wasn’t--- I mean, yes, I did and said those things but I didn’t mean anything by them. I’m sorry I gave you the wrong impression.” That sounded lame even to his own ears.
McKay stared at him. “So you’re telling me I went through this living nightmare for nothing?”
“Well, what did you expect? A comparing experiment?”
McKay crossed his arms with conviction. “Maybe.”
Sheppard’s eyes went wide. “You can’t be serious!” But he was, Sheppard could see it, could sense it even. He opened and closed his mouth, trying to find the right words. “Rodney, I don’t know--- I mean, I’ve never---” he stuttered, then stopped, at a loss for anything comprehensive to add.
“Me neither,” McKay answered. “That’s no reason to not try.”
Now Sheppard crossed his arms as well. “No, I suppose it’s not,” he drawled.
They just sat like that for a moment, neither of them moving or saying anything, simply staring at each other stubbornly. Eventually, McKay snapped. “What are you waiting for?”
Sheppard rolled his eyes so hard, his head snapped back. “Rodney! You’re insane! We can’t just---“
“Why the hell not?”
Yeah, why the hell not? Sheppard grabbed McKay’s head with both hands and kissed him on the lips so hard their teeth clashed. McKay gasped in shock and Sheppard took that opportunity to shove his tongue down McKay’s throat.
The kiss was wooden at first, felt wrong, but then McKay finally got with the program and responded, relaxing in Sheppard’s hands, his own tongue darting out to explore Sheppard's mouth, gliding over his teeth and gum, then drawing back to entangle it with Sheppard’s tongue again. Sheppard had to hand it to McKay; he was a surprisingly good kisser.
They both went up for air simultaneously, not wasting a second before going in for another round and this time, dear God, McKay started to make these amazing, indescribable, incomparable humming noises in the back of his throat and Sheppard could feel them, could taste them vibrating on his tongue and the aroused shudder that ran through him from top to bottom just served to encourage McKay to increase his humming. Sheppard had never felt anything like it in his life.
They had to break apart and Sheppard pushed McKay back with his hands on his chest, catching his breath. “Okay, all right, let’s take it easy. We have to slow down.”
McKay nodded. “Right, slowing down is good,” he agreed before brushing Sheppard’s restraining arms aside and re-capturing his mouth. McKay took the whole initiative this time, using one hand to cup Sheppard’s jaw and the other got busy opening Sheppard’s BDUs. He moaned, tried to say McKay’s name but all that came out was a muffled, unintelligible noise and before he knew it he could feel McKay’s hand, Band Aid and all, touching his penis, gliding up and down, squeezing it tightly. Another shiver ran down his spine and he couldn’t even remember the last time he had gotten so hard so fast!
He pulled back, steadying himself on McKay’s shoulders and burying his head in McKay’s neck. He tried to bring his breathing under control as McKay was giving him a hand job he was not going to come from. He felt something warm and wet on his neck and realized McKay was licking it. “This is still insane,” he mumbled and started nibbling at McKay’s ear. He tasted like fresh, clean sweat, not unpleasant at all and Sheppard worked his way down McKay’s neck with delight, savoring the taste even, until he reached the hem of McKay’s shirt. Which had to go.
“Take it off,” he ordered, tugging at the superfluous piece of clothing and then leaning back to unzip his own jacket.
“By your command,” McKay cyloned sarcastically but mercifully stripped off his uniform jacket and pulled his black T-shirt over his head.
continued in Part Two