Jul. 31st 2008
Warnings: Language, sex
Disclaimer: Not mine!
John grumbles, "I can't believe he won," pouring himself another cup of coffee and frowning at no one in particular.
Rodney snorts, dropping down into his chair and leaning back, rubbing one hand up over his face and tugging his tie loose with the other. His tone is all scorn, "Please, the only people who though the other guy ever had a chance were the hopeless idealists. Oh, God. Tell me you're not one of them." Rodney actually looks openly horrified.
John rolls his eyes, draining half his coffee in one gulp and then slamming it down onto Rodney's desk. Rodney starts to reach for his papers, and John pushes the chair further away from the desk, bracing both hands on the back and sliding one knee onto the seat between Rodney's thighs. Rodney raises his eyebrows and says, "This wasn't built to hold the both of us."
John grins, leaning forward and kissing Rodney, breathing against his mouth, "We'll manage," and squirming his way into Rodney's lap. By the time he settles, he's pretty sure that his right leg is going to be falling asleep any second, and Rodney still looks winded from where John accidentally elbowed him in the stomach, but then John wraps his arms around Rodney's neck and kisses him and it doesn't actually matter.
For a half second Rodney grumbles something that sounds irritated against John's mouth, and then he gives up with an audible sigh. John grins as best he can, grinding down against Rodney and sparing a moment to consider that this would have probably worked better if they had gotten naked first.
Nothing to be done about it now.
Rodney has a hand in John's hair, holding him in place as the kiss slips its way to something dirty, all teeth and tongue and sucking. Rodney's other hand is sliding down the back of John's slacks, and Rodney snorts, "Commando, John, really?" even as he gropes and squeezes.
John shrugs as best he can, torn between pushing back against Rodney's hand and grinding down against Rodney's strong body. He says, biting and sucking his way down Rodney's neck, "Easier access, I know you're all about expediency," and Rodney laughs again, his other hand sliding down John's back, curving around John's hip, gripping at John's thigh.
Rodney groans, when John rips his tie off and tosses it somewhere across the room, "Junior slept in your clothes again, didn't he?"
John buries his smile against Rodney's collarbone, nodding his head helplessly and then hissing when Rodney's hand on his thigh becomes Rodney's hand opening his fly. "God," John's voice has gone all thick and rough, and he bites at Rodney's skin when Rodney wraps his fingers around John's cock.
And that's when someone knocks on Rodney's door, and everything happens all at once. Rodney's eyes go huge with surprise, someone says, "Mr. McKay? One of the Secret Services guys wants your autograph," and John almost breaks something attempting to get his pants back over his hips.
When the door opens, he's still in Rodney's lap, and poor Miko is just staring at them, looking completely traumatized. John can't tell what's going on with the Secret Service guy behind the dark glasses, but Rodney is just slinging an arm around John's waist and waving the guy in, saying, "Do you have a pen?"
And John watches Rodney sign the damn picture left handed, barely breathing, because Rodney's right hand is still wrapped around his dick, his thumb stroking back and forth across the head. John is gripping the arms of the chair hard enough he doesn't know how they haven't just snapped, and he almost screams when Rodney waves at the Secret Service guy and says, "Hope you don't have to jump in front of any bullets!"
The door closes with a click, and John opens his mouth to, well, he's not quite sure what he was planning on saying. It's interrupted when Rodney pulls him down into a kiss and starts stroking his dick hard and fast, grumbling against John's mouth, "Fucking interruptions."
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