Title: Fair Deal
Author:
somehowunbroken
Fandom: SGA/SG1
Characters: John/Cam
Word Count: 1,625
Rating: NC-17/car porn!
Notes: Forcolls, who won me in the help_japan auction and wanted flyboys with cars. I probably should have admitted long ago that I know nothing about cars; I didn't, so instead please accept my apologies for probably messing up things that are painfully obvious when I wrote them anyway. Also? I did not set out for this to be porn, and I really have no idea where it came from. /helpless handwave
The first time Cam sees John-
Well, okay, the first time he encounters John Sheppard, he doesn’t think much of him. He’s incredibly attractive but he knows it; he’s charming but he uses it. It’s not that Cam dislikes him, but he’s got other things to think about, things like the career he’s trying to make for himself and the way he’s supposed to be hiding that part of his nature that would ground him before he got the chance to take to the air, so he smiles and takes his leave and figures that’s that.
Cam doesn’t know, as he’s leaving the bar, that he’s already sort of fallen in love with the man.
He’d been down in the valley earlier in the day, driving back to base after a weekend’s liberty in town, when he’d seen her: an older-model Chevy Camaro, deep red, obviously well cared for, hugging the curves of the road like she was being handled by an expert. Cam had slowed his own car to watch as the driver executed a perfectly smooth slow-and-turn maneuver before speeding back in the other direction.
“Damn,” he’d said aloud, watching as the Camaro picked up speed again and wound a path back up into the mountains.
And then he’d made his way back to the base and unpacked, and somehow between then and now, he’d ended up at a quiet-enough bar near the base to waste away his last few hours of liberty with some of the guys in his unit. They’d introduced him to Sheppard, and Cam had certainly noticed, appreciated, thought he might be catching some of the same glances from Sheppard, but in the end he leaves on his own.
Cam stops short as he leaves the bar, because there she is, parked three spots over from his own black Mustang: the car from before, deep red even nicer in the dark outside the bar, and Cam can’t help stopping to admire it on his way to his own vehicle. She looks like she’s in excellent condition, without a scratch or ding anywhere on her body, and Cam sweeps his eyes over the frame appreciatively.
“Are you gonna ask her out, or are you just gonna give her the sexy eyes from afar and break her heart with loneliness?” a voice drawls from behind him, and Cam startles backwards and ends up staring straight into John Sheppard’s eyes. “Thought you were leaving, Mitchell.”
“Sheppard,” Cam acknowledges. “I was just admiring her. Looks like you keep her up pretty well.”
“I try,” Sheppard says with a shrug. “She runs nicely enough.”
“I know,” Cam replies before his brain catches up with his mouth. He can feel his cheeks heat. “I mean, I saw you driving her. Earlier.” He motions vaguely southward. “Down in the valley.”
Sheppard’s face brightens. “That was you in the Fastback?” he asks, scanning the row of cars and landing on Cam’s baby. “Nice car, Mitchell. She run well?”
Cam grins. “I try,” he teases, and Sheppard laughs, and Cam is suddenly, blindingly certain that his life is about to get a whole lot more complicated.
“Race you,” Sheppard offers, smile gleaming in the light spilling from the bar. “Two miles out, the long stretch of road before you hit 287. It should be deserted this time of night. We line up out there, see who gets to the highway first.”
Cam opens his mouth and he means to say no, he really does, but what comes out instead is, “Sounds like fun.”
Sheppard grins as he slips into the driver’s seat and starts the Camaro, which gives a throaty purr. He revs the engine a few times as Cam walks to the Mustang, shaking his head as he turns the key and gives an answering roar form his engine.
The last thing that flits through Cam’s head as he follows Sheppard out of the parking lot is that he just might like Sheppard more than he thought he would.
-0-
The drive out to the stretch of road that Sheppard had mentioned goes by quickly, and soon enough they’re rolling their cars up side-by-side. Sheppard leans over his passenger’s seat and rolls the window down, and when Cam does the same, Sheppard grins. “Want to make it interesting?”
“What did you have in mind?” Cam’s open to the idea. The Camaro had been pretty impressive earlier, but he’s pretty sure his Mustang can take her in a flat-out race.
Sheppard’s smirk turns dirty. “I was thinking the loser blows the winner,” he says offhandedly, like that’s something guys just toss out there, like it’s not going to make Cam choke on absolutely nothing and turn beet red. Okay, Cam thinks, so he hadn’t been imagining things back at the bar. Sheppard laughs. “What, afraid to put your mouth on my dick? It’s not half as bad as it sounds.”
“Nothing I haven’t done before,” Cam shoots back, and okay, that’s apparently something Sheppard hadn’t been expecting. He’s only thrown for a second, though, before that damned smirk widens and he’s nodding.
“That a yes, then?”
“Absolutely,” Cam says before he can stop himself, and this is getting to be an issue around Sheppard, blurting out things he shouldn’t be saying before thinking them through. It’s out there now, though, and Cam’s nothing if not a man of his word. “You ready?”
In response, Sheppard rolls his window up and slides back over into the driver’s seat. He grins wildly at Cam as he holds up three fingers. He ticks them down – three, two, one – and they’re off.
-0-
Sheppard beats him by about two seconds.
-0-
“Okay,” Cam says as he turns the Mustang off and climbs out of the car. “What do you have under the hood of that thing, anyway?”
Sheppard just grins at him. “Nice, isn’t it?”
“It is,” Cam admits, wiping his palms on his jeans. He’s not – nervous, not exactly; he hadn’t been lying when he’d said he’d done this before. But he’s still kind of flying high on his own adrenaline rush from the race, and this is crazy, crazy to even think about, because he barely knows Sheppard, and they’re in the middle of nowhere-
“Stop thinking,” Sheppard laughs, reaching out to cuff him on the arm. “You’re making this way harder than it has to be.”
“Yeah,” Cam answers, “I suppose I am,” and then he leans in and grabs Sheppard’s waist, pulling them snugly together, and kisses him with something like determination.
“This wasn’t part of the deal,” Sheppard gasps when Cam moves on to mouthing his way across Sheppard’s jaw, up behind his ear.
“You complaining, Sheppard?” Cam asks, low in his throat, right against Sheppard’s ear.
Sheppard chokes out something that’s either a laugh or a gasp, but Cam’s too busy kissing Sheppard’s neck to pay close attention. “You should probably call me John,” he says, pulling in a sharp breath as Cam bites down gently where his shoulder meets his neck.
“I can do that,” Cam murmurs against his neck. “You want to sit, or you want to brace yourself up?”
“I want,” John says, and then he’s locking his arms around Cam’s waist and slipping a leg between Cam’s, and Cam is suddenly standing where John was, pressed between the Camaro and John’s body.
“I want,” John repeats before hooking his thumbs into the loops in Cam’s jeans and tugging. He leans in and kisses Cam like he’s on fire, burning with something that Cam can’t see, and by the time John pulls away and Cam takes a shuddering breath, Cam’s pants are undone and John’s sliding to his knees.
“Thought you won,” Cam manages as he leans more fully against the car behind him.
“I did,” John agrees, pulling Cam’s boxers down.
“Then why-”
John laughs as he leans his head forward, the top of his too-spiky hair brushing against Cam’s thigh. “Are you seriously going with the logical question right now?”
“I was just-” Cam tries again, but John leans in and bumps his nose against Cam’s hip, and Cam stops talking.
“Better,” John says approvingly, and then he’s using his tongue and his lips and his fingers with a fluid kind of grace that Cam hadn’t been expecting, though maybe he should have been.
Not that he had really been expecting any of this, but still.
“John,” Cam gasps at some point later; he’s pretty much lost track of time by this stage of the game. He draws a shaking hand up from John’s shoulder to brush against his face, tapping out his warning.
John pulls off easily, leaning his head into Cam’s hip and breathing harshly as his hand keeps moving. Cam finishes quickly, thumping back into the car, and John follows soon after.
“Well,” Cam says after a few minutes. “This isn’t how I thought the evening was going to end.”
John laughs as he stands, brushing the dust from his pants. “No complaints?”
“No complaints,” Cam agrees, pulling John in and kissing him again. “Though I was pretty sure you won the race, so you might see how I’m a little confused at the moment.”
“I thought I was going to lose,” John says with a grin. “Might have psyched myself up for it a little bit.”
Cam snorts. “So you won and decided, what, winner’s choice?”
John shrugs and half-smiles. “If it makes you feel better,” he mumbles against Cam’s lips, “you can owe it to me. Fair deal?”
“Fair deal,” Cam agrees, and this time, his brain and his mouth are in complete agreement, and yeah, his life is about to get a lot more complicated, he can already tell. “That sounds pretty good to me.”
Author:
somehowunbrokenFandom: SGA/SG1
Characters: John/Cam
Word Count: 1,625
Rating: NC-17/car porn!
Notes: For
colls, who won me in the help_japan auction and wanted flyboys with cars. I probably should have admitted long ago that I know nothing about cars; I didn't, so instead please accept my apologies for probably messing up things that are painfully obvious when I wrote them anyway. Also? I did not set out for this to be porn, and I really have no idea where it came from. /helpless handwaveThe first time Cam sees John-
Well, okay, the first time he encounters John Sheppard, he doesn’t think much of him. He’s incredibly attractive but he knows it; he’s charming but he uses it. It’s not that Cam dislikes him, but he’s got other things to think about, things like the career he’s trying to make for himself and the way he’s supposed to be hiding that part of his nature that would ground him before he got the chance to take to the air, so he smiles and takes his leave and figures that’s that.
Cam doesn’t know, as he’s leaving the bar, that he’s already sort of fallen in love with the man.
He’d been down in the valley earlier in the day, driving back to base after a weekend’s liberty in town, when he’d seen her: an older-model Chevy Camaro, deep red, obviously well cared for, hugging the curves of the road like she was being handled by an expert. Cam had slowed his own car to watch as the driver executed a perfectly smooth slow-and-turn maneuver before speeding back in the other direction.
“Damn,” he’d said aloud, watching as the Camaro picked up speed again and wound a path back up into the mountains.
And then he’d made his way back to the base and unpacked, and somehow between then and now, he’d ended up at a quiet-enough bar near the base to waste away his last few hours of liberty with some of the guys in his unit. They’d introduced him to Sheppard, and Cam had certainly noticed, appreciated, thought he might be catching some of the same glances from Sheppard, but in the end he leaves on his own.
Cam stops short as he leaves the bar, because there she is, parked three spots over from his own black Mustang: the car from before, deep red even nicer in the dark outside the bar, and Cam can’t help stopping to admire it on his way to his own vehicle. She looks like she’s in excellent condition, without a scratch or ding anywhere on her body, and Cam sweeps his eyes over the frame appreciatively.
“Are you gonna ask her out, or are you just gonna give her the sexy eyes from afar and break her heart with loneliness?” a voice drawls from behind him, and Cam startles backwards and ends up staring straight into John Sheppard’s eyes. “Thought you were leaving, Mitchell.”
“Sheppard,” Cam acknowledges. “I was just admiring her. Looks like you keep her up pretty well.”
“I try,” Sheppard says with a shrug. “She runs nicely enough.”
“I know,” Cam replies before his brain catches up with his mouth. He can feel his cheeks heat. “I mean, I saw you driving her. Earlier.” He motions vaguely southward. “Down in the valley.”
Sheppard’s face brightens. “That was you in the Fastback?” he asks, scanning the row of cars and landing on Cam’s baby. “Nice car, Mitchell. She run well?”
Cam grins. “I try,” he teases, and Sheppard laughs, and Cam is suddenly, blindingly certain that his life is about to get a whole lot more complicated.
“Race you,” Sheppard offers, smile gleaming in the light spilling from the bar. “Two miles out, the long stretch of road before you hit 287. It should be deserted this time of night. We line up out there, see who gets to the highway first.”
Cam opens his mouth and he means to say no, he really does, but what comes out instead is, “Sounds like fun.”
Sheppard grins as he slips into the driver’s seat and starts the Camaro, which gives a throaty purr. He revs the engine a few times as Cam walks to the Mustang, shaking his head as he turns the key and gives an answering roar form his engine.
The last thing that flits through Cam’s head as he follows Sheppard out of the parking lot is that he just might like Sheppard more than he thought he would.
-0-
The drive out to the stretch of road that Sheppard had mentioned goes by quickly, and soon enough they’re rolling their cars up side-by-side. Sheppard leans over his passenger’s seat and rolls the window down, and when Cam does the same, Sheppard grins. “Want to make it interesting?”
“What did you have in mind?” Cam’s open to the idea. The Camaro had been pretty impressive earlier, but he’s pretty sure his Mustang can take her in a flat-out race.
Sheppard’s smirk turns dirty. “I was thinking the loser blows the winner,” he says offhandedly, like that’s something guys just toss out there, like it’s not going to make Cam choke on absolutely nothing and turn beet red. Okay, Cam thinks, so he hadn’t been imagining things back at the bar. Sheppard laughs. “What, afraid to put your mouth on my dick? It’s not half as bad as it sounds.”
“Nothing I haven’t done before,” Cam shoots back, and okay, that’s apparently something Sheppard hadn’t been expecting. He’s only thrown for a second, though, before that damned smirk widens and he’s nodding.
“That a yes, then?”
“Absolutely,” Cam says before he can stop himself, and this is getting to be an issue around Sheppard, blurting out things he shouldn’t be saying before thinking them through. It’s out there now, though, and Cam’s nothing if not a man of his word. “You ready?”
In response, Sheppard rolls his window up and slides back over into the driver’s seat. He grins wildly at Cam as he holds up three fingers. He ticks them down – three, two, one – and they’re off.
-0-
Sheppard beats him by about two seconds.
-0-
“Okay,” Cam says as he turns the Mustang off and climbs out of the car. “What do you have under the hood of that thing, anyway?”
Sheppard just grins at him. “Nice, isn’t it?”
“It is,” Cam admits, wiping his palms on his jeans. He’s not – nervous, not exactly; he hadn’t been lying when he’d said he’d done this before. But he’s still kind of flying high on his own adrenaline rush from the race, and this is crazy, crazy to even think about, because he barely knows Sheppard, and they’re in the middle of nowhere-
“Stop thinking,” Sheppard laughs, reaching out to cuff him on the arm. “You’re making this way harder than it has to be.”
“Yeah,” Cam answers, “I suppose I am,” and then he leans in and grabs Sheppard’s waist, pulling them snugly together, and kisses him with something like determination.
“This wasn’t part of the deal,” Sheppard gasps when Cam moves on to mouthing his way across Sheppard’s jaw, up behind his ear.
“You complaining, Sheppard?” Cam asks, low in his throat, right against Sheppard’s ear.
Sheppard chokes out something that’s either a laugh or a gasp, but Cam’s too busy kissing Sheppard’s neck to pay close attention. “You should probably call me John,” he says, pulling in a sharp breath as Cam bites down gently where his shoulder meets his neck.
“I can do that,” Cam murmurs against his neck. “You want to sit, or you want to brace yourself up?”
“I want,” John says, and then he’s locking his arms around Cam’s waist and slipping a leg between Cam’s, and Cam is suddenly standing where John was, pressed between the Camaro and John’s body.
“I want,” John repeats before hooking his thumbs into the loops in Cam’s jeans and tugging. He leans in and kisses Cam like he’s on fire, burning with something that Cam can’t see, and by the time John pulls away and Cam takes a shuddering breath, Cam’s pants are undone and John’s sliding to his knees.
“Thought you won,” Cam manages as he leans more fully against the car behind him.
“I did,” John agrees, pulling Cam’s boxers down.
“Then why-”
John laughs as he leans his head forward, the top of his too-spiky hair brushing against Cam’s thigh. “Are you seriously going with the logical question right now?”
“I was just-” Cam tries again, but John leans in and bumps his nose against Cam’s hip, and Cam stops talking.
“Better,” John says approvingly, and then he’s using his tongue and his lips and his fingers with a fluid kind of grace that Cam hadn’t been expecting, though maybe he should have been.
Not that he had really been expecting any of this, but still.
“John,” Cam gasps at some point later; he’s pretty much lost track of time by this stage of the game. He draws a shaking hand up from John’s shoulder to brush against his face, tapping out his warning.
John pulls off easily, leaning his head into Cam’s hip and breathing harshly as his hand keeps moving. Cam finishes quickly, thumping back into the car, and John follows soon after.
“Well,” Cam says after a few minutes. “This isn’t how I thought the evening was going to end.”
John laughs as he stands, brushing the dust from his pants. “No complaints?”
“No complaints,” Cam agrees, pulling John in and kissing him again. “Though I was pretty sure you won the race, so you might see how I’m a little confused at the moment.”
“I thought I was going to lose,” John says with a grin. “Might have psyched myself up for it a little bit.”
Cam snorts. “So you won and decided, what, winner’s choice?”
John shrugs and half-smiles. “If it makes you feel better,” he mumbles against Cam’s lips, “you can owe it to me. Fair deal?”
“Fair deal,” Cam agrees, and this time, his brain and his mouth are in complete agreement, and yeah, his life is about to get a lot more complicated, he can already tell. “That sounds pretty good to me.”
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