Competence

Competence

Word Count: 2025

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Sheppard/McKay

Summary: But like a comet, he always circles back around, can't stay away.

A/N: Based on a request by kyrieane who asked for "John/Rodney, and I'm on this total vouyerism/masturbation kink." Hope this works - it's a different style than I usually use.

John and Rodney have a regular time for shooting practice - barring fire, injury, or imminent Wraith attack, of course - and for a long time Rodney views it as just another hoop to jump. It's not that he minds, so much, but it takes valuable time away from more important things.

But John has made it very clear that if Rodney wants to continue to go off-world, he'll show up, he'll wear the protective gear, and he'll spend forty-five minutes shooting at paper targets. He improves over time, but John still doesn't call a halt to it.

Then one day Rodney has a bad day in the lab - a really bad day. Equipment that had lit up for him the day before stays stubbornly dark, Kavanaugh nearly blows up the chemistry lab, and Zelenka won't share the good coffee. All in all, a bad, not good day. So Rodney decides to head down to the armory early - maybe a break in the routine is what is called for. Besides, Elizabeth has made it clear that he's really not allowed to kill Kavanaugh, and if he stays he's going to.

When he gets there, though, he discovers that he hasn't beaten John. John is - well, he's cleaning his gun, it looks like. And it's nothing that Rodney hasn't seen a million times before. Hell, he does it himself every week. But suddenly he can't help but watch John's hands move over the pieces, and it's almost like he's seducing the gun, telling it without words how much he values and respects and even loves the damn thing.

And they're so graceful and competent that Rodney suddenly can't breathe, and he has to step back out of the direct line of sight, because he's achingly hard and how embarrassing would it be if John saw him right now?

When he finally feels like he can make it through the lesson without jumping John right here and now, he steps back into the armory, where John is now lounging against the counter. "Running late today, McKay?" he asks, and all Rodney can do is nod and pick up his gun, hoping that John will let it drop, and he does, since Rodney's now wearing ear protection which means he can't hear a damn thing anyway.

He's distracted, and that's good, because the damn wince that he's developed when he's pulling the trigger disappears, but it's also bad, because his aim is way, way off. John looks at him with concern as he sets down the gun. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Just having a bad day." And Rodney mechanically cleans his own weapon and stows it away, making a point of not looking at John's hands. Right now, he's off balance enough that he might just find himself humping John's leg if he notices that... that competence again.

Finally, though, he makes his escape, only instead of heading back towards the lab, he heads towards the nearest abandoned room. He's barely inside when he's unzipping his pants, pulling his cock out. It only takes one or two jerks, and he's coming, hard enough to make him see stars.

Thankfully, long practice let him capture most of the come in his hand, so it's a quick matter to clean up and then he's on his way back to the lab, ready to do battle once again with the idiot brigade.

***

Four days later, there's a malfunction in one of the halls bordering the gym. Rodney and Zelenka spend two hours fighting with Ancient machinery that doesn't want to cooperate, quite, and by the time the lights quit flickering and the doors stop opening randomly, Rodney is ready to do something else. Anything else.

So when he catches sight of John's hair in the gym, he stops. His first thought is that it will be entertaining to watch John get dumped on his ass a few times by Teyla or Ronon, but this isn't one of his regular sparring matches. This is a work out with a couple of the marines, instead, and John's a lot more evenly matched.

And as Rodney watches John, he realizes that for all the teasing he does of John, about how he's continuously getting his ass kicked by a woman half his size, John is as competent here as he is with the guns. For the first time, perhaps, Rodney really understands how good Ronon and Teyla are, because John is actually holding back with the marines, walking them through moves that they don't know.

Rodney has always had a thing for competence. He knows it, has always known it. He just thought that it was for competence in science. It's kind of a shock to find out that it applies equally to competence in violence.

John looks up from where he's cheerfully holding one of the marines in a headlock. "Hey, Rodney. Want to join in?"

Shaking his head, Rodney is already backing up. He's not sure what he says, but it must be the right thing because John laughs and returns to kicking marine ass. Rodney stumbles away, this time making it all the way to his room. John isn't the first male that he's lusted after, but still, he wants to think about this.

By the time he gets there, he's back in control, and his cock isn't being quite as demanding. Rodney figures since he's here anyway, he might as well take a shower, maybe a nap, and so he strips out of his clothes.

But as he's washing up in the shower, he flashes on John, on John taking down a marine half again his size and laughing and he's rock hard in seconds. He tries to divert his attention to problems that the science section has been having with energy generation, and when that doesn't work, with more acceptable fantasy material, but his body and mind seem to be in complete agreement - they are only interested in John right now.

With a sigh, he soaps up his hand and starts to work his cock, biting his lip as his hand slip-slides over it. It feels so good, and he lets himself relax against the wall of the shower, really feel it. His other hand drifts up his chest, pinching and twisting his own nipple, and his eyes fall shut.

Now he can see John, on his knees in front of him, smile firmly in place as it's John's hand touching him, his mouth inches from being on his cock. He spreads his legs wider, inviting John to touch him wherever he likes, and the hand disappears from his nipple, sliding down his side and under his cock to cradle his balls gently,

The hand on his cock grows tighter, and he's breathing faster, and as it stutters just a little in place, he comes. For just a moment more, he keeps his eyes shut, imagining his come on John's lips, but then with a sigh he opens them again, irrationally disappointed that he's alone in the small cubicle.

***

Over the next weeks, Rodney alternates between staring outright at John and avoiding him. When he's watching, he can't help but notice the effortless way he pilots, he fights, even the way he moves.

Those days, he goes back to his room as soon as he can and masturbates to increasingly disturbing fantasies. John on his knees wasn't the dirtiest by the long shot. John on his back, on his hands and knees. After the one with John fucking him long and hard, he avoids John for a whole week.

But like a comet, he always circles back around, can't stay away. John doesn't say anything when Rodney reappears, just smiles and acts like he'd never been gone.

He reports to the armory for his lesson, a few minutes late this time since he and Zelenka had been fighting about the best way to rewire the Mark II generator, and finds John shooting. Standing just outside the door, he realizes he can't do this anymore and turns to walk away.

He hasn't gotten more than a few steps when a hand lands on his shoulder. "Going somewhere?" says John's easy drawl.

"Uh, yeah - just wanted to tell you that I'm too busy this week to practice mutilating harmless pieces of paper. Next week, okay?"

"No, McKay, it's not okay. You know the rules - no drill, no missions."

"I'm just too busy this week, Colonel. I'm sorry." And Rodney turns, trying to get John's hand off his shoulder, but John turns with him, following him, subtly guiding him into the storage closet next to the armory.

"You've been weird for months, McKay. Tell me what's going on in your head, because otherwise I'm going to have to think about replacing you on the team and I really don't want to do that." John looks... oh, God, John looks serious, and Rodney isn't sure what to do.

"It might be best if you do," Rodney's mouth says even as his brain is screaming No, no, no. "If you don't think you can work with me anymore."

John slams him back against the wall. "Dammit, McKay. I have no problem working with you. It's you that seems to have a problem with me."

But Rodney can't breathe. John is too close, too intense like this, and Rodney is reacting in ways he can't help. His cock is hard, pressing against his thigh where it's restrained by the fabric of his pants, and if John moves in any more he's going to feel it.

"I - I do have a problem." Oh, god, oh, god, oh, god, "But it's not with you. Just taking some time to sort out. I'll try to do better."

But John leans that necessary two inches and now Rodney can't help but feel his heat pressed against his erection. John sways back again, looking like he's been pole-axed. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh." Rodney shrugs out of the hold that John has on him and tugs his shirt down ineffectually. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to die of embarrassment somewhere else, okay?"

"Why didn't you just say something?" John looks... honestly confused, which in turn confuses Rodney.

"Just because you're a heterosexual male who's in the American military? Gee, I wonder? Could it be because I didn't feel like having my ass kicked by my team leader?"

Now John just looks offended, which is a look that's much easier for Rodney to deal with. He's gotten those most of his life. But at least it's gotten John to back up a little, though he's still blocking the exit. "When have I ever given you a reason to think that I might kick your ass for something like this?"

Rodney sighs and leans back against the wall. "You also didn't give me any reason to think that you might be receptive to it. So, can we just let this drop now?"

"No." Before Rodney can marshall any further arguments, though, John is leaning in against him again. Before he can stop John, he's fumbling with his belt, unbuttoning and unzipping and pulling Rodney out. His hand wraps around Rodney's cock and it's just... it's the best thing ever and he couldn't imagine this, not in a million years.

John's grip is just on the side of too tight, and it's just right, and his thumb brushes that place right below the head and Rodney thumps his head back against the wall. "Please, John, please be real. Oh, god, please be real."

And for the first time since this obsession started, John answers. "I'm right here, Rodney, and I'm going to make you come. Then we're going to go back to your room and you're going to tell me everything that you've ever imagined me doing to you, with you. Then we're going to do as much of it as we can."

Rodney groans, and thumps his head again. And then he's coming, all over John's hand and his own stomach, and he doesn't care, because for the first time, John is kissing him.