23. Know Thyself

McKay barely glanced up as John hobbled into the private lab. “Huh. You’re walking. She must’ve gone easy on you.”

“You’re a fucking bastard, McKay. You knew she would break me.”

“Oh, she did? Good, good…hm, think ‘on’ at this.”

John ignored him in favor of easing onto one of the stools, muscles he forgot he owned burning from use. McKay gave him a once over.

“She won’t hurt you, she knows how shot up you were. Carson even showed her pictures so she would understand your physical limitations.”

“Could’ve fooled me. Fuck.” John tried to get comfortable, but it was pointless. The arch of his left foot hurt.

McKay’s expression turned cold, his eyes bright and mean. “Your ass hurts for a completely different reason.”

“Jealous?” John snapped, still trying to twist around on the stool. He threw an arm out to make a grab for the table next to him when McKay shoved into his space, tipping the stool backward. “What the fuck!”

McKay didn’t answer, using John’s unbalanced state to grab him by his shirt and yank him off the stool. Still weak from the workout with the Emmagen, John’s bad hip gave out and he went down. McKay controlled the fall with brute force, setting John on his knees while John blindly grabbed at the strong arms holding him. John only had a moment of disorientation before McKay took a fistful of hair and shoved John’s face into his groin, where his dick was already plumping up inside of his pants. McKay snapped his hips forward, rubbing himself over John’s lips and nose.

“You goddamn idiot, if you want absolution through fucking, I can arrange that.”

John’s knees already hurt and his hip was screaming but he wanted it. After the interruption that morning, he needed it. He could smell the musk and his mouth was watering.

“Tell me you want it, Sheppard. I’m not going to rape you.” McKay yanked on John’s hair until his eyes watered, forcing him to look up. The words were kind but McKay’s face was dark, his skin flushed red and his eyes dilated.

“Yeah, yeah.” John tried to nod, pulling his hair in McKay’s tight fist. McKay kept staring at him until John reached up and grabbed his belt. “I said yes, you fucker.”

“And I said I’d make you beg first,” McKay snarled, pulling on John’s hair until he was almost dragging him up off the floor. John’s hands flexed as the pain radiated through him, and he grabbed for the belt again to anchor himself. “If you want it so badly, Sheppard, you’re going to have to prove it.”

John sucked in a breath as McKay relaxed his grip, letting him settle back down. “I want it.”

“Hm. Well, it’s a start.” McKay snapped his hips forward, the bulge of his dick nearly breaking John’s nose. John’s fingers scrambled to unbuckle McKay’s belt and undo his pants. McKay never let go of the fistful of hair in his hand, letting John do all the work. John didn’t bother with finesse, grabbing McKay’s dick and pulling it out of the flap of his boxers, wrapping his whole hand around it as he frantically started sucking on the swollen head.

“Slow down!” McKay yanked on his hair, but John was already so far gone that it only aroused him even more. He pushed forward to take in as much as he could, sucking down the shaft until he felt the head hit his gag reflex. His throat convulsed as he pulled back, and McKay let out a sharp yell. John’s head whipped back when McKay yanked at his hair again, holding John away from his swollen, spit slicked cock. “Slow. The fuck. Down!”

John growled and pushed forward again. McKay switched tactics and pulled him closer slowly, taking back control of the momentum. He let John get a mouthful though, and John flicked his tongue over the soft skin on the underside of the head as reward. McKay used his grip on John’s hair to guide him and set the pace, and it was just a shade too much for John to go that deep but it wasn’t anywhere near enough to get him off. McKay stayed silent as he face-fucked John, who was dizzy with need and clung to McKay’s hips to keep from toppling over.

“Goddamn you mouth!” McKay cursed, shoving in hard and deep and coming all at once. John took it, choking, with tears streaming down his face from the pain and pleasure and effort.

He was shoved backwards and landed on his ass, hands fumbling for purchase on the floor. McKay didn’t move to pack himself up, he just stared at John for a moment.

“Get yourself off. I’m going to watch.”

Nodding, cum still dripping down his chin from where he couldn’t swallow it all, John used one hand to undo his pants and yank out his dick. He stripped it fast and hard, desperate and shameless.

McKay watched, leaning back against the table and looking down at where John was frantically working his cock. McKay gave him a sharp smirk, his eyes flashing with post-orgasmic adrenaline. “You spill on the floor and I’ll make you lick it up.”

John’s whole body clenched at the words, the image, the suggestion of it and he came so hard he blacked out.

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