by The Grrrl

Title: Connection

Author: The Grrrl

Author's email:

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Archive: Ask first.

Fandom: Stargate Atlantis

Pairing: Sheppard/McKay

Summary: Rodney is so very far away. But John keeps in touch.

Notes: A big thank you to chelle for looking this over. Contains spoilers for "The Return".

Rodney answered on the third ring, sounding snappish and annoyed. "What?"

"Hiya, Rodney." John sat back in his overstuffed chair, making himself comfortable.

"Oh, hey, Sheppard," Rodney's voice grew soft. "Hi."

"Hi yourself." Stretching his legs out over the coffee table, John asked, "How's it going?"

"It's--well, it's going. Where are you? Are you at the SGC?"

"Nope. Downtime. I'm home, or at least what passes for home around here." John surveyed his institutionally decorated living room. No windows overlooking the sea, no towers spiking up toward the sky.

"Hold on a second, will you? No, no, not there--wait--" Rodney's voice faded, then came back a few seconds later. "Okay. I'm in my office now."

"What's going on?"

"I've got workmen here, putting the lab together. Supposedly."

"Oooh, workmen," John teased. "Are they wearing tool belts?"

"Must you? No, not workmen like the kind in the movies you watch." A pause, then in whisper, "Well, maybe that one guy, with the sleeves rolled up. He's pretty hot."

John frowned. "Really?"

"No, not really. So when are you coming to visit?"

"Not until next week. Got some training exercises scheduled with my new team."

"Oh," Rodney said, with a huff that might have been a sigh.

John felt like sighing, too. Being evicted from Atlantis was bad enough, but going from having Rodney at his side every minute of the day to this long-distance thing also sucked. It meant a lot less...sucking. "So, you're getting a new lab, built just for you? Cool."

"Yes, except that they're changing my specifications, and the materials are all wrong, plus now they say they can't get it done until Friday, which I suppose gives me time to go through all the personnel files sitting here on my desk. There's at least twenty thousand of them."

"That many? Sounds like you're the hot ticket." It was disturbingly good to hear Rodney complain.

"Okay, maybe around forty applications, but it's not what I want to be doing."

"What do you want to be doing?"

Rodney's voice dropped to a whisper. "You mean other than you?"

John grinned. "Yes, Rodney, that's what I mean." His hand slid down to his crotch. "Not that I don't appreciate the thought."

The more he thought about it, the more he appreciated it. Rodney behind him, arm wrapped tightly around his waist, cock snug inside of him--it had been far too long. He had gotten spoiled.

"Yeah, well--hold on--What? What do you want? Let me see." A rustle of papers, an indistinct voice in the background, then "No, no, no, no, if you look right here it says--"

John unzipped his jeans. Rodney talked a lot during sex. Giving directions, asking questions, providing a running commentary on what felt good and what didn't. It should have been annoying, but it wasn't.

It made John want to talk during sex, too.

"I keep telling them the units have to be wired up separately, but they keep trying to put them in a series, which won't work at all," Rodney said. "It's going to blow apart at the first--hey, are you still there?"

"Yup, I'm here. Just listening." John freed his cock from his boxers and stroked it, running his fingers along the underside. "How is setting them up in a series going to make them blow?"

Rodney launched into an explanation. John let the words flow over him as he stroked, growing harder as he imagined Rodney's hand moving over his cock. Rodney, right there with him, kneeling between his legs, hot breath on his balls as Rodney stroked and talked right up until the moment he leaned forward and swallowed John's cock with a hungry little sound.

"Are you listening to me at all?" Rodney demanded.

"Um," John breathed. "Yeah."

"You sound funny. What are you doing?"

John squeezed the head of his fully erect cock. "Talking on the phone, what do you think I'm doing?"

"No, you sound like--oh my god, you're touching yourself, aren't you?"

John swallowed. "Maybe."

"You are. You're jerking off right now. I don't believe you. I'm stuck here in my office working and you're jerking off."

"Yes, Rodney, I am." John chuckled, picturing Rodney's indignant expression.

"Just hold on, they're back--yes, yes, come in, what is it now?" Rodney voice grew agitated. "Right--that's it--perfect, now please, just get it done, all right? Go."

John pushed his pants further down so that he could slide a hand under his balls. "Come on Rodney, talk dirty to me." He fondled the sacs, then tugged lightly.

"You've got to be kidding." Rodney's voice rose to a tight squeak. "I've got workmen out there and you want phone sex."

"Lock your door."

"I can't--they keep coming in. And you have a lot of nerve doing this when I'm stuck here at work and I can't--" Blowing out a noisy breath, Rodney abruptly asked, "Are you naked?"

"No," John snorted. "I'm home alone, what's the point?"

"Oh, right. What are you wearing then?"

"Jeans. T-shirt." John began stroking steadily.

"Where? Are you in bed?"

"No. I'm in my chair. The green one."

"Oh no, that's all wrong, I hate that chair."

"I know." John pushed his hips up, working his cock through his hand.

"It's ugly--I mean, what shade of green is that? And it hurts my back."

"Hmmm." John shifted his hips and pulled his feet up, planting his heels on the edge of the coffee table. "Maybe you'd like it better if I gave you a ride in it."

"What? How could we, in that chair, with the arms--oh, okay, maybe if you knelt and faced the back," Rodney mused.

A noise escaped from John's throat as he imagined it, being crushed up against the back of the chair, Rodney pushing in from behind, big warm body flat against his.

"Or maybe you could sit on my lap, hey, that might work."

Legs draped over the arms of the chair, Rodney's hands on his hips, controlling his movements--that would work, that would definitely work. "Fuck yeah, I'd like that," John whispered.

"Oh, this is not fair. You sound entirely--," Rodney made a frustrated sound. "Great, this is just great. My own personal obscene phone call. Now I can't even get up from desk."

"You're hard."

"What do you think?"

John liked Rodney hard. Hard and naked, cock jutting out and John would hold him tight, just to feel his muscles flex and move, to feel the heat of his cock against his skin and damn it, Rodney was too far away. "I want," John said, then stopped, because if he started he'd never stop.

"Well, no kidding, so do I," Rodney said. "And as much as I enjoy our phone calls, this isn't helping, thank you very much."

John's hand moved in short, quick strokes. He could hear Rodney breathing. His mouth must be close to the phone, his lips close enough to touch and John wanted to crawl through the wires and be there with him. He wanted to touch and feel, to pull at Rodney's clothes, to shove his cock in Rodney's mouth, wanted to lie back on Rodney's desk and spread his legs wide.


Moaning out loud, John tensed, nearly dropping the phone as the sensation swept through him. He came with his fist wrapped around his pulsing cock, watching the come drip through his fingers. Then the pleasure faded and he sighed, disappointed by the swiftness of it.

"God damn it."

John heard a thud. "What was that?" he asked.

"The door," Rodney panted. "You are such a jerk."

Smiling, John listened as Rodney's breath hitched. "No, you're the jerk. The jerk jerking off."

"You're talking nonsense, you know that? You're always like that after you come. Full of nonsense--oh, oh--"

A loud rustle, then a clatter. John winced, picturing the phone hitting the hard floor. He waited patiently, wiping his fingers on his shirt, his cock softening and dripping onto his stomach. Rodney was sitting on the ground, John imagined, in his brand new office, his back to the door, khaki pants pushed down to his knees. His arm moving fast, his face scrunched up with concentration, flushed red from the effort, John could see it all in his mind and it looked really, really good.

If John could get hard again, he would have. But all he managed was a feeble twitch of his cock.

Another rustle, and Rodney was back, breathing heavily. "Well now that's a big mess." He sounded more bemused than concerned.

Oddly satisfied, John laughed. "I'd help clean up if I could." Which was a lie, because he liked the feel of a wet, sticky Rodney wrapped around him.

"You should. It's all your fault and I think I just got come on the applications." Rodney made a noise somewhere between a giggle and a snort.

Maybe John did talk nonsense after sex, but post-coital Rodney could be downright giddy. "Send them back with the stains," John suggested. "Makes people wonder what you're up to."

"Please. Only you could get away with that."

John could hear the smile in Rodney's voice. "Okay, how about spilling coffee over the stains?"

"Oh," Rodney said, excited. "Good idea."

John nodded. "I'm a smart kind of guy."

"I wouldn't go that far--ah, napkins, good. Hold on while I button up." This time the pause was shorter. "Okay, I'm back, and I'm opening the door now."

"You do that, Rodney." John grinned, imagining Rodney's elaborate casualness as he did so.

"The lab's empty anyway. Probably all on break. Figures."

"Yup. Can't get good help these days." John stretched his legs out and yawned. Rodney kissed a lot after sex, too. Slow, drowsy kisses, in sharp contrast to the quick, frantic kisses that led up it. John liked both kinds.

"Are you still there?"

"Yes, I am."

"We just had phone sex, didn't we?"

"I think so, being that we're on the phone and all."

"Huh. Interesting. Not as good as the real thing, is it?" Rodney's voice was quiet.

"No, not really."

"But it's still kind of cool. Oh look, the workmen are coming back. And they're carrying a--you won't believe this. Excuse me, what do you plan on doing with that?"

John sat up. "What? Rodney?"

"Listen, um, Colonel, I have to go."

"Okay--hey, call me later."

"Tonight, okay? And, thank you." Rodney's voice dropped. " know. Disrupting my day and all."

John smiled. "Anytime, Rodney. It was my pleasure. Talk to you later." He was still smiling when he disconnected the phone.

Maybe tonight he'd make the call from bed.

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