Characters:Rod McKay, Rodney McKay, John Sheppard
Pairing: Rod/Rodney + Voyeur! John
ESRB Rating: Mature
Themes: Voyeurism, Missing Scene/Episode Tag (McKay and Mrs. Miller)

Written for LiveJournal’s Comment_Fic Community. Based on beautybecks’s prompt, ‘SGA, Rod/Rodney, putting on a show’.

Written: March 7th, 2009

Rodney isn’t exactly sure how he’s been talked into this, but somehow he’s — they’re — in John’s quarters and Rod is unzipping his fly and John is sitting in a chair across the room, his eyes heavy with want.

Rodney swallows hard, one hand coming up to his temple. “Okay, you know, maybe-maybe this wasn’t the best— Yes, I’m thinking that maybe we should just—” But Rod fastens his mouth to Rodney’s neck again, nibbling up behind his ear and Rodney is lost to the wash of lust that sweeps through him. It’s hot and it’s heady and, God. Is his mouth really this mobile? His tongue that… talented?

“Beautiful,” John sighs from his place, fingers up against his lips. His other hand is down against his cock, rubbing idle circles through his pants.

Rod grins, ever ready to please a John. “Yeah? How about this.” He steps around Rodney, reaching into Rodney’s pants from behind. His other arm comes down over his shoulder, pulling and pinning him against his twin.

Rodney’s head lolls back against Rod’s shoulder, his eyes closing tight as the soft and pliable heat envelops his dick.

“Nice,” John draws out slowly, the corners of his mouth curling up into a licentious smirk.

Rodney tries to say something again, make it stop because this just can’t be right, but Rod is swirling his hand over the head of his cock just the way he likes it — and of course Rod knows how he likes it, Rodney’s thoughts race — and Rodney forgets yet again why this isn’t the most brilliant idea he’s ever had.

Rod’s fingers reach out and run themselves up Rodney’s chest, his eyes always holding John’s, making sure the third man is watching. Watching the two of them putting on a show for him.

He suddenly lets go of Rodney and spins the man around, grabbing his face in both hands to kiss him good and solid. His fingers tighten around Rodney’s neck, forcing him to bend at the angle he wants.

But Rodney isn’t the bitch here, this is his universe after all, and he reaches for his doppelganger’s ass, pulling them together tightly. They wrestle for dominance this way, tongues clashing, hips bumping and breath heavy.

Rodney digs his fingers in, hauling Rod up against him, taking the man almost up off his feet. For now, he’s winning, Rod yielding none-to-gently to Rodney’s tongue and rough-shod ministrations. He breaks their kiss to give Rod a bit of his own medicine, mouthing his throat and nibbling up to that very same sweet spot up behind his ear.

Rod actually giggles and wriggles in Rodney’s arms. They can hear John moan again, but they’re too busy with each other to remember this was supposed to be for his benefit.

“Pants. In the way,” Rodney grinds out, hooking his thumbs into Rod’s waistband and practically pops the button off in his fight to get inside. Rod seems to be in agreement, digging back into Rodney’s pants and drawing them down.

John moans yet again, gun-calloused fingers reaching into his BDUs to pull himself out. This is just too much. Too much to hear, too much to see. He sits on a knife’s point, watching.

The McKays are losing themselves in one another, having shuffled over to John’s bed and simultaneously trying to kiss and kick their pants off around their matching shoes. John would laugh if he had the breath, but he’s using every ounce of concentration to not come all over his hand before the show really gets started.

Rod loses Rodney’s mouth for a moment while Rodney pulls his shirt over his head. He takes the opportunity to glance over Rodney’s shoulder and eye John. He licks his lips slowly, sending a shudder down John’s spine.

“Your John is more patient than mine.”

“Oh?” Rodney asks breathlessly, throwing his shirt somewhere over the side of the bed. In the clear, he attaches himself to Rod’s neck once more, moving up to cover the man with his body.

“Mine would’ve been over here already.”

“He what?”

But John is already crossing the room, needing no further invitation.

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