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I know, I should be writing. Sue me.
This story is so hysterically funny, I can't stand not to force it on others. I don't care if you aren't a fan of Stargate Atlantis - so long as you know it has hot guys and they travel to other planets, that's all you need to know for this story.
One Leg at a Time. An epic story of an obsession over pants, or lack thereof.
"You came here to get me into bed," John points out. "You didn't think to bring lube?"
"I came here to negotiate a peaceful and mutually satisfactory settlement to our long and ultimately pointless disagreement," Rodney says stiffly. "How was I supposed to know that you're a man-whore even on your own turf?"
"You fought me every step of the way," John agrees.
Rodney looks utterly thwarted. Then he says, "Seriously, you've got nothing?"
Sighing the sigh of the eternally put-upon, John reaches across Rodney, yanks open the drawer on his bedside table, and digs out his bottle of Liquid Silk, setting it down atop the table with more force than is absolutely necessary.
"There is something terribly wrong about a world in which you can buy a family-size bottle of personal lubricant," Rodney says after a moment.
"Rodney," John says roughly, his patience at an end. Rodney's already come once; he's well on his way to coming twice. In the meantime, John's own erection has gone ignored by everyone.
No matter what anyone says about the brain being the biggest erogenous zone, no matter how Rodney sounds when he's finding god in John's mouth, or how he smells when he comes, or how he tastes when his skin is sheened with sweat, John's enjoyment of this experience thus far has been mostly platonic.
Self-denial is part of the excitement, for him; that ache--that burn--left unfulfilled. But that's not all of it, not by a long shot.
"How did the cashier at Walgreens look when you asked him to help you carry that out to your car?" Rodney asks.
John smirks. "Optimistic."
This story is so hysterically funny, I can't stand not to force it on others. I don't care if you aren't a fan of Stargate Atlantis - so long as you know it has hot guys and they travel to other planets, that's all you need to know for this story.
One Leg at a Time. An epic story of an obsession over pants, or lack thereof.
"You came here to get me into bed," John points out. "You didn't think to bring lube?"
"I came here to negotiate a peaceful and mutually satisfactory settlement to our long and ultimately pointless disagreement," Rodney says stiffly. "How was I supposed to know that you're a man-whore even on your own turf?"
"You fought me every step of the way," John agrees.
Rodney looks utterly thwarted. Then he says, "Seriously, you've got nothing?"
Sighing the sigh of the eternally put-upon, John reaches across Rodney, yanks open the drawer on his bedside table, and digs out his bottle of Liquid Silk, setting it down atop the table with more force than is absolutely necessary.
"There is something terribly wrong about a world in which you can buy a family-size bottle of personal lubricant," Rodney says after a moment.
"Rodney," John says roughly, his patience at an end. Rodney's already come once; he's well on his way to coming twice. In the meantime, John's own erection has gone ignored by everyone.
No matter what anyone says about the brain being the biggest erogenous zone, no matter how Rodney sounds when he's finding god in John's mouth, or how he smells when he comes, or how he tastes when his skin is sheened with sweat, John's enjoyment of this experience thus far has been mostly platonic.
Self-denial is part of the excitement, for him; that ache--that burn--left unfulfilled. But that's not all of it, not by a long shot.
"How did the cashier at Walgreens look when you asked him to help you carry that out to your car?" Rodney asks.
John smirks. "Optimistic."
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