Fic: Passing Through Gethsemane, SGA, Day 17

Title: Passing Through Gethsemane
Author: Claire
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Pairing: Cadman, McKay

Notes: Okay, this turned out way differently than I thought it would. It was meant to be happy smutty 'Cadman wanks in McKay's body' porn. Apparently my mind thought 'Not so much'.

Laura can feel Rodney in the back of her (his) mind as she lies there. The sheet is cool against her skin, Rodney asleep (unconscious) and unknowing. She pushes the sheet off her body, the cool air brushing over her and leaving gooseflesh in its wake.

She lifts a hand and studies it in the soft light. The broad fingers wider, clumsier (he builds bombs with these fingers), than those she's used to. Her other arm moving, she trails a finger down the back of her hand, shivering as she disturbs the fine hairs.

Exploring further, Laura runs fingers over her chest. She misses the swell of her breasts in her hands as her fingertips move over nipples that harden (he's more sensitive than she is) at her touch.

Moving down over her stomach and the hair on her skin becomes coarser (softer than she thought), leading in a trail to between her legs. The cock (because it's not hers, never hers) is heavy against her leg. She wraps her fingers around it, feeling its weight even as it twitches under her touch. She's curious as to what it feels like from this side (no wet heat to slide fingers into) and doesn't even realise her fingers are moving until the cock jumps slightly, thickening, hardening.

She tightens her grip, fingers moving a little faster now until the cock is as hard as it's going to get, heavy and solid in her palm. A shiver runs through her with each pass and she thinks that so long as she cleans up after herself, McKay will never know (like she didn't in college, muddled and sore with flashes of a guy in a bar).

She doesn't know which rhythm is best and it's nothing like she's used to so it takes her a few tries to get a proper flow going (hard and fast like she knew McKay would like it). Her fingers tighten as her hand moves, quicker and sharper, the balls between her thighs tightening (and isn't that a sensation she never thought she'd have).

Her entire body feels like a jack-knife as the come lands on her stomach, runs down her fingers. Aftershocks shudder through her as she continues to run her fingers over the cock until the sensation borders on pain (McKay probably gets off on that, too). As she opens her fingers the cock drops back against her thigh, heavy and sated (this thing that shouldn't be there, shouldn't be attached to her body).

The come is cooling on her stomach (thick and sticky and she wants it off her) and she doesn't know why she swipes her fingers through it but she does. She looks at it, sitting on (tainting) her fingertips before she brings them to her lips, tongue darting out to taste the viscous fluid (bitter and sharp, like everything about McKay).

Pulling her fingers away from her mouth, she forces herself to move, to open the drawer in the cabinet next to the bed. She knows what she'll find there, knows what she'd find in every man's bedside drawers (sure, predictable, always the same). She uses a tissue to clean herself up, dropping the wadded ball to dry (fester) on the floor.

Lethargy is running through her, and she'll never complain at another boyfriend for falling asleep straight after sex. She can feel (ignores) a tug at the back of her mind as she closes her eyes, but it doesn't bother her (locked away, don't shout, don't cry). Sleep takes her.