May. 26th, 2008 09:51 am
Characters: Rodney/The Priesthood of Inuu
Disclaimer: Not mine!
Summary: He's fairly certain that they've all had their fingers in him by now, their enthusiasm is flattering and hotter than it should be.
Kink: (5) Gangbang
Author's Note: Like you didn't know it was going to be Rodney. Also completely consensual.
Rodney doesn't actually think his eyes are anywhere close to the same color as the 'gate, but the Priests of Inuu do from the moment they see him, exclaiming giddily about it among themselves as they surround him. It's probably something to do with the fact that Rodney doesn't see a single other blue-eyed person anywhere.
In any case, for once the natives clumping around them and babbling with excitement turn out to not be a precursor for attempts on the team's life. In fact, the rest of the team is being ignored while Rodney finds himself surrounded by a dozen men who suddenly look close to bursting with excitement.
One of them is stroking Rodney's hair, the others jostling for position to see his eyes, when an older man bangs his staff against the cobblestones, loud enough to get the priest's attention. The priests all subside, drawing away from Rodney with soft, regretful looks. John steps forward, his expression tense, wary, when he asks, "You alright?"
Rodney opens his mouth to answer, but before he can the older man says, "I apologize for the presumption of my fellows. They see it as a sign from the Creators that you have come to us on this of all nights."
Rodney frowns. As much as he'd like to brush these people off, the power readings he's getting happen to be coming from the temple they're living in. He resigns himself to having to speak with them, shooting John a cautious look when he asks, "Tuesday?"
The old man smiles, his leathery skin crinkling up impressively. And then he explains. By the time he's done John is scowling, shifting his grip on his P-90 when he says, "Absolutely not."
Rodney raises his eyebrows, crossing his arms, "Excuse me? Did they ask you?" John turns to look at him, eyes hidden behind his sunglasses and Rodney glares at him before turning back to the old man, "And you'll let me, uh, look around afterwards?"
The old man bobs his head, the priests around him fairly vibrating with excitement. The man says, "Of course, the Blessed may go wherever they wish."
Rodney's first instinct is to agree immediately, but he makes himself pause. College was a long time ago. And even then, well, it hadn't been quite this many people involved. Nor had they looked to be so eager. Still. Rodney figures he can't actually blame them. He'd be excited too, if he only got to have sex once a year.
In the end, the possibility of finding a ZedPM makes any potential awkwardness worth it. Rodney smiles tightly at the priests, "Where do I sign up?"
Which is how Rodney ends up leaning across the altar in the heart of the temple. As far as altars go, its pretty high class. He thinks the base of it is some kind of Ancient material, but the priests have covered it with obscenely soft blankets. The altar is waist high, and after they'd given him a chance to bathe in lavender scented water, they'd taken him to it and leaned him across it.
Rodney's hair is dry now, after the time the priests spent preparing him. He's fairly certain that they've all had their fingers in him by now, their enthusiasm is flattering and hotter than it should be. Rodney is beyond hard, the tip of his cock brushing against the smooth side of the altar when he squirms his hips around. There are three fingers inside him, and they all belong to different people.
He'd look, but it's easier to just let his head hang down between his arms, biting his lip against the groans and ragged whimpers in his throat. His shoulders already ache a little from where he's supporting his weight on his elbows, which might be a problem later. He'll deal with it then.
For now, Rodney is more concerned with the hands petting over his flanks, the feel of someone licking across the top of his ass, a fourth fingertip breaching his body. Rodney gives up, groaning low and thick, wishing someone would touch his cock already, and like a mind reader, the old man is banging his stick on the floor again, proclaiming, "The stars are bright."
Apparently that's code for, 'finish the fuck up'. At least three people reach around Rodney's waist, fingers tangling around his cock, wet with whatever they're using to slick him up. The man licking his ass decides to bite, and the fingers in his ass all twist different ways.
Rodney comes hard, letting the altar take his weight. The priests step away from him slowly, laying lingering touches across his shoulders, back, and thighs as they go. Rodney listens to their footsteps retreat, trying to steady his breathing, his legs trembling. For a long moment he is alone with the flickering candle light and giant stone penis, and he takes the time to hope that the rest of the team is having fun sleeping in the guest quarters.
And then the priests are filing back into the room, all of them wearing long, white coats that hang open. Each of their dicks are a different color, hard and full in their space-condoms. Rodney blinks at them through heavy lidded eyes, anticipation and just a hint of nervousness curling up in his gut. It's been a long time. There are a lot of them.
The old man, who apparently snuck in while Rodney wasn't looking, bangs his stick again, "Tonight we renew the protection on the land with the blessing of the Star Door." As far as speeches go, it's mercifully short. The priests appear to think so, as well, because Rodney can see them fidgeting, can read the need and want in their expressions. The old man booms, "May your blessings be worthy. Begin!"
For a half second Rodney assumes that the priests are all going to rush him, but they restrain themselves. They move forward in two lines, their eyes on him the entire time. Rodney can feel himself blushing under the scrutiny, more from arousal than embarrassment.
The first two men reach him at the same time, one stepping up onto the step in front of the altar, his purple cock tight up against his stomach, the other positioning himself between Rodney's legs. Rodney stares up at the man in front of him. The priest is already slack-jawed, breathing hard, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.
The priest is a tall man, big, with a shaved...well, everything, actually. He's not the type that Rodney would have figured for hesitating, but then, the poor bastard hasn't had the chance to fuck anything for a year. Rodney grins up at him, hoping to get things moving along, and the man's eyes roll up, a thick grunt echoing in his chest.
The priest cups the side of Rodney's jaw with one big hand, his fingers curling towards the back of Rodney's neck as he uses his other hand to tilt his cock down. Rodney wets his bottom lip, habit, hearing the man make another hoarse sound when Rodney lets his mouth fall open.
Rodney has a half second to be surprised over the fact that the condom is not only flavored, but flavored like blueberries, and then the grip of big hands on his ass distracts him. The second priest isn't as hesitant as the one currently sliding his cock past Rodney's lips, he holds Rodney open, his thighs pressing against Rodney's as he pushes in.
Rodney groans at the sensation, muffled around the cock in his mouth. His fingers wind automatically into the soft blankets below him, his own dick making a serious effort to get hard again. He's not sure he's going to manage it immediately, but, well, he has time.
The priest Rodney is sucking isn't trying to force his cock down Rodney's throat, which is nice, if slightly surprising. There's still a hesitance to the man's movements, thrusting into Rodney's mouth in tight little circles, his thumb stroking back and forth across the side of Rodney's face.
The second priest has no such compunctions, sliding deep into Rodney, easing almost all the way back, pushing forward again. The pace is insanely slow, but steady and firm. Rodney feels each stroke up his spine, little bursts of fireworks behind his eyes each time the man pushes into him.
They're neither of them touching him anywhere but where they had initially placed their hands. Rodney is fairly certain that had been part of the ritual. The man fucking Rodney squeezes his ass, his rhythm changing to something faster, still every bit as deliberate.
Rodney moans when the man brushes his prostate, feeling his eyes slip shut. He sucks hard on the cock in his mouth, trying to muffle the sound with the other man's flesh. The man jerks, but still doesn't attempt to move any deeper. Rodney decides that he just prefers shallow blowjobs. Rodney can work with that.
The next time the priest between Rodney's legs thrusts forward Rodney hollows his cheeks and sucks hard on the cock between his lips. When the priest slides out, Rodney flicks his tongue across the head, tracing the line of the slit through the man's condom, wondering absently how bad pre-come would taste when mixed with the blueberry flavor.
Rodney repeats the process, grinning as best he can when he feels the priest's fingers tighten against his neck. The priest fucking him is grunting now with each thrust, moving even faster, until his hips are finally managing something that could be called snapping. Rodney is keeping pace with his mouth, tracing his tongue around the flare of the head of the priest's cock, sucking him in a quick series of pulls, over and over again.
The priest behind Rodney makes a long, ragged sound, driving hard into Rodney one last time, and then sagging. The man keeps all his weight on his hands, his fingers gripping at Rodney's ass, his cock still jerking inside Rodney's body.
It startles Rodney enough to make him lick when he'd been planning to suck, and the change in rhythm makes the man above him shout raggedly, though he doesn't come. Rodney tries not to be distracted, feeling the priest going soft inside him, trying to concentrate on the cock still hard against his tongue.
When the priest slides out of his ass, Rodney shivers involuntarily. That gets another hoarse sound from the man he's blowing. Rodney is actually kind of impressed that the guy has managed to hold off orgasm this long. Before he can think about it, the priest behind him is kneeling, pressing a kiss against the base of Rodney's spine.
There's no reason for that to hit Rodney as hard as it does, but he's always been a soft touch for unexpected tenderness. His cock twitches, nearly hard again, and he curls his tongue up against the underside of the priest's cock, humming in the back of his throat.
The man comes, cock jumping and twitching, just as one of his fellows steps up behind Rodney and pushes into him. Rodney cries out, his legs jerking, the priest's cock slipping out from between his lips. He barely feels the wet trail it leaves down his chin. When the man bends down, kissing the crown of Rodney's head, he feels that.
Rodney makes himself open his eyes to watch the priest walk away. The man slides the condom off, holding it up for the old man to look at and nod, before he places it in a bowl beside the giant stone penis.
Rodney shifts his jaw side to side, curling his tongue up on itself because he likes the way it feels after he sucks cock. The man behind him is less controlled that the previous priest had been. He has one hand braced in the small of Rodney's back, the other wrapped around his hip, thrusting hard into Rodney's body. Rodney is just thinking about matching his rhythm, when the next priest steps up beside the altar.
It's kind of hard to get past the bright pink cock. Rodney can feel himself going cross-eyed looking at it, and then the man is running a hand back over Rodney's head, cupping the back of his head, the head of his cock nudging against Rodney's bottom lip. Rodney groans, and takes it.
The man pauses then, his cock heavy and thick on Rodney's tongue, a sort of coiled strength in the hand pressed against the nape of Rodney's neck. When the priest fucking Rodney thrusts forward, Rodney's mouth slides up the other man's cock, and when the one behind Rodney shifts back the other pushes forward.
Rodney groans, eyes shutting again, because, yes. The first thrust only brushes the back of his throat, but he's ready the second time, relaxing around it, letting the man's cock go deep. The man rumbles, his fingers curling in the short hair at the base of Rodney's neck, and Rodney realizes that the condom tastes like strawberries.
Rodney's body is shifting back and forth between the two men. He has to time his breathing between thrusts, his heart racing, his cock fully hard now, aching and dragging against the side of the altar. The rhythm is perfect, the two men matching each other with startling ease. Rodney wonders if they'll come at the same time, too.
There's spit slipping out of the corners of Rodney's mouth, because he doesn't have time to swallow more than cock, right now. He can feel it, slick and wet against his skin, just like he can feel the lube they'd slicked him up with sliding down his thighs. Rodney groans, aching and wanting.
The man fucking Rodney's throat loses his rhythm first, his hips jerking wildly all of a sudden. Rodney holds his breath, his chest getting tight, feeling the man's cock pulse, his nose pressed right up against the man's groin.
When the man pulls out Rodney coughs, sucking in a deep breath, before coughing again. He barely feels the kiss pressed against his hair, trying to catch his breath, still being fucked hard by the man behind him. Without a counter balance Rodney is jerking hard, and without anything in his mouth he cries out, pleasure arching like electricity up his spine.
The man that steps up next is younger, all long limbs and awkwardness and freckles that go everywhere. The priest is blushing impressively as well, and waves jerkily at Rodney for some reason. His cock is neon green. Rodney hopes that it doesn't taste like limes.
The man reaches out to Rodney, then hesitates, biting on his bottom lip and looking over his shoulder. Rodney wonders if this is his first ceremony, or his first time in general, and tenses up his legs and shoulders, not letting the man behind him push him as far forward.
Rodney smiles carefully, turning one hand up on the sheets, offering it to the priest. The man sags with what looks like relief, reaching down and squeezing Rodney's hand and then leaning carefully forward. Rodney keeps his eyes open this time, watching the priest's expression go completely wrecked at just the touch of Rodney's mouth.
The priest behind Rodney is grunting, thrusting hard and deep, and Rodney wishes he could enjoy it better. For now he cradles the other man's cock carefully in his mouth, before slowly dragging his tongue across the head. He is not surprised when the priest cries out, his cock spurting into the condom, which, pleasantly, tasted of mint.
This man lingers over the kiss to the top of Rodney's head for a long moment, before finally stumbling away. Rodney can feel himself grinning, and then the man fucking him comes with a ragged shout, his hips working through his orgasm, sure and steady.
When the man kneels, pressing a kiss to the base of Rodney's spine, he reaches his hand up as well, fingers curling around Rodney's cock, thumb rubbing across the head, firm and even. Rodney hadn't needed much, and that's more than enough. His knees give up for a long moment, and Rodney has to blink away spots.
The next man that steps in front of the altar has no hesitation in him. Rodney is so loose now, fucked out and sated, that it's no problem at all to just let his mouth and throat go slack. The man behind him doesn't touch Rodney, his hands braced instead on the altar on either side of Rodney's hips, alternating shallow, fast, thrusts, with longer slower ones.
Rodney's jaw is starting to ache, a deep, sweet pain, by the time the priest comes. He's too gone to care. He feels languid and content, in love with his fellow man, especially if they keep fucking him. Each successive thrust, each shuddering breath, each press of warmth against his skin, is satisfying in a way that Rodney never spent too much time considering.
The priests behind him change so quickly that Rodney half-thinks that one must have pushed the other aside. There's no more than the space of a breath between the one man coming and the other pushing his cock into Rodney's aching body. This priest is strong, gripping Rodney's hips and lifting his feet off the floor, pounding into him hard.
It changes the angle of the cock Rodney is sucking, to something shallower. Rodney hums contentedly, not sure at this point that he can be anything but deliriously pleased with everything. He sucks languidly on the priest's cock, licking it like an ice-cream cone, which it sort of even tastes like.
Rodney makes a disappointed sound when the man comes against his tongue. He'd been enjoying himself, blowing the man more for his own joy in the act than anything else. It's hard to remember anything else, at this point. Rodney's brain is completely offline. Then it doesn't matter, because there's another cock, and this condom is chocolate flavored, and Rodney hums delightedly.
The man behind him is still pounding him hard, and Rodney disjointedly hopes he never stops. He imagines he can feel the man's cock bumping against the back of his throat, and then realizes that it's the other priest's cock, actually bumping against the back of his throat. Which is even better as far as Rodney is concerned.
Rodney hums, rubbing his hand back and forth over the smooth blankets he's laying on, tasting chocolate and feeling his cock make an attempt to harden again. He's rather surprised by that, but then the man behind him starts really getting into it, and if there wasn't another man in front of him to brace himself against Rodney is half sure he'd be going over the side of the altar.
As it is Rodney cries out, pleasure spreading thick and tight through him, and yes, he is going to get hard again. Rodney can't even remember the last time he came three times in a night, but it's going to happen and he's almost giddy with anticipation.
The man behind him roars, coming finally, his big cock slowly going soft inside Rodney. Rodney's ass aches and throbs when he pulls out, and Rodney shivers at the loss. Not that it lasts long, there's another man stepping into place, pushing into Rodney's yielding body as soon as the big man kisses his back.
Rodney whimpers around the cock in his mouth, too far gone to do more than suck at the head, to trace lazy patterns with the tip of his tongue. The man is moving his hips in tight circles, and Rodney whimpers again, the man behind him thrusting into him, hands closed hard around Rodney's hips.
When the man with the chocolate condom comes Rodney gives him one last lick in parting. He can taste all the different flavors in his mouth and on his lips, and regrets that chocolate is going to be covered with something else. But no one else steps up, and after a moment Rodney makes himself open his eyes, blinking dazedly around the room.
There are no other priests waiting in the wings, and Rodney feels disappointment cut through some of the haze he's drifting in. He makes himself concentrate on the man still fucking him, closing his eyes and letting his head hang forward, luxuriating in the cock pounding into him, hard again himself, wondering if he can get off before this man finishes.
The priest comes with a surprised grunt, leaving Rodney sighing in remorse. The man slides out of him, dropping to his knees and kissing Rodney's back, and Rodney can feel the man's hand moving up his thigh, reaching for his cock, thank God.
And then the man retreats. Rodney protests, trying to form words and not managing it. He's pretty sure his own arms aren't in any condition to function and he wants to get off again. He's frowning, planning an ugly end to whoever left him hanging, and there's a soft, barely there, brush of fingertips across the top of his ass.
Rodney blinks, then arches into the touch, moaning happily when it firms up. The man, and it is a man, a big strong hand, cups one side of Rodney's ass, squeezing before sliding his hand up across Rodney's back. Rodney wonders why this one gets to be all touchy-feely, taking a moment to wonder if it's the old guy, before the man is leaning over him.
A warm, strong chest presses up against Rodney's back, and he groans, stretching his arms out and resting on his stomach, letting the other man's weight settle over him. There's a brush of breath against the side of his neck, soft lips following, and Rodney is not surprised when the man says, "Hi," and it's John's voice.
Talking is more than Rodney can manage right now, but he hums in greeting. John is running a hand up and down Rodney's side, nuzzling against Rodney's hair, his cock hot and hard and pressing against Rodney's ass. If this were any other time Rodney would be surprised, but right now he's not sure he's capable of managing that.
John's voice is rough, ragged, "They, uh, they say that it's an extra blessing if I participate. Since I'm our leader." Rodney hums again, concentrating on the press of John's fingers against his skin, John's comforting, blanketing warmth. "I just—is that okay? I needed to know."
Sometimes John is stupid. Rodney would tell him so, but it's simpler to make himself nod, mumbling the best permission he can manage. John lets out a harsh breath. Rodney can feel him trembling when he grunts out, "Okay, okay," soft, like he's talking to himself, before shifting back.
Rodney aches, his body sore, but he doesn't mind. John presses into him slowly, inch after inch of his cock, until he's balls deep. Rodney smiles, face half-pressed up against the soft blankets. John curses, curling over him, pressing his forehead against the skin between Rodney's shoulder blades, still running a hand up and down Rodney's side.
John starts slow, gasping with each thrust, murmuring words that Rodney can't hear against Rodney's skin. Rodney revels in it, because this is John, and somehow that makes it different than all the others. He'd like to tell John that, but the words keep getting tangled into moans in his throat.
John moves a little faster, his cock sliding easily in Rodney's lax body. Rodney hums, wishing that John would just give him a hand so he could come again, and really enjoy being fucked. And either Rodney is managing speech, or John is reading his mind, because the other man grunts, sliding his hand around the curve of Rodney's hip, fisting his cock. Rodney shouts, the sound scraping over his raw throat, feeling John's cock in him and John's hand around him and comes again.
John says Rodney's name, over and over, his voice tight and breaking around the syllables, his hips moving faster and harder. Rodney drifts, smiling helplessly, heavy and sleepy, sated and content, sore and aching. When John comes he leans forward, closing his mouth over the juncture of Rodney's shoulder and neck, his teeth cool and sharp against the skin.
Rodney feels John slide out of him, but only distantly. There is singing coming from somewhere, and bright blue light, but Rodney is taking the express track to unconscious, and there's nothing he can do to prevent it. Rodney is, vaguely, aware of someone wrapping the soft blankets all around him, and one last kiss, soft against his lips.
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