Word Count: 3,125
Rating: NC-17/porn in a big way
Notes: For theeverdream because she proofreads a lot of stuff for me and I said I'd write her fic, so, porn! And many many thanks to clwilson2006 because she proofread this, making sure that my typo-tastic-ness didn't get in the way of the story, and totally not getting a sneak peek at the porn. Not at all. :D
Other notes: Sequel to this porn which is the sequel to this porn. I... have a one-track mind, don't I? Military kink, toys, orgasm denial. threesome, but I think that's it for this one.
SG-1 is visiting, and Evan’s more than a little tense about it, because whenever SG-1 visits they attract trouble like a magnet. He privately thinks it’s probably Jackson, because the man just seems to gravitate towards the things most likely to kill him, and the rest of the team is stuck fishing him out of whatever hell he gets himself into.
John pokes his head into Evan’s office and Evan looks up from the requisition forms he’s only halfway finished signing; they’ll go back on the Daedalus. SG-1 won’t go back on the Daedalus, but right now, Evan’s more concerned with the forms. “Hey, Evan.”
“John,” Evan replies. They’re not formal, don’t stand on occasion, except… well. There’s a time and a place for everything, and this is neither.
“Busy tonight?” John asks casually, resting his hip on the doorframe and cocking his head just so, and God, if that man isn’t sex on legs then nobody is.
Evan shakes his head, knowing where this is heading and feeling tight heat curl in his belly. It’s a little suicidal anyway, their relationship, and getting together with the SGC’s flagship team in the City… “Nope.”
“Good,” John smiles. “Got some new movies smuggled in on the Daedalus. I’m now the proud owner of four new DVDs, the names of which I cannot remember at the moment.” He pauses. “I think it’s a good idea for the senior military staff to pre-screen anything we might be showing to the general population. For… strategic…” He stops and apparently gives up. “Look, I only have two bags of popcorn, so let me know if you want in.”
Evan grins, can’t help it. “What time?”
John checks his watch and frowns at the wall in a way that Evan knows means he’s mentally cataloguing the rest of what he’s supposed to be doing today. He glances at Evan after a moment. “2400?”
“2400,” Evan confirms. “Your quarters?”
John nods, still casual, and stands up away from the doorframe. “See you later.”
Evan gets through the next few hours by pointedly not thinking about John or movies or beds. Instead, he returns to requisitions, sorting through good and bad and insane until it’s time to eat.
Evan eats with his team, like he usually does, discussing past missions and the one they’re probably taking next week, to that planet with all the kids, because McKay out and out refuses to go back since the time they finger-painted all over his datapad. Dinner finishes quickly enough and he winds his way down to the gym, figuring he can get in a good hour of getting his ass kicked by Ronon before showering and heading to John’s.
What he’s not expecting is the crowd in the gym, pressed in against the walls. John’s got his bantos rods and is twirling one almost absently, a feral smile on his face as he circles. Colonel Mitchell is holding a longer, thicker rod, wielding it in front of his body in a way that suggests just as much training with it as John has with his.
And then they’re flying at each other, sticks smacking and little grunts escaping both sets of lips, and Evan’s glad that nobody’s attention could possibly be focused on him because he’s suddenly uncomfortably adjusting his pants, taking his jacket off and tying it around his waist, because fuck, that’s… way hotter than it should be, John and Mitchell smacking each other with sticks.
He doesn’t know if there’s a signal or something, or if maybe John can read his mind or something, but the smile on John’s face crosses the line from feral into wicked and he and Mitchell spring apart and toss their weapons aside and grab each other, wrestling down to the ground. Evan has to lean against the wall and remember that breathing, yeah, breathing’s a good thing.
Evan decides to take that shower sooner rather than later, because coming in his pants in a gym full of people without being touched while watching two superior officers wrestle? Would be an embarrassing end to his career.
The shower helps immensely, though Evan’s not sure if that’s because of the cold water or the distance between him and his fantasies playing out on a rubber mat in the gym. It’s about that time, he realizes as he finishes tying his boots, so he leaves his quarters and heads to the transporter, tapping on the area where John’s quarters are located. The lights flash and he’s soon standing in front of John’s door, waving his hand over the chimes. The door opens; Evan steps inside and closes it before registering that the sounds he’s hearing aren’t from porn.
Or they are, he thinks dizzily, because that’s John and Mitchell on the bed and there’s no clothing and John’s straddling Mitchell’s lap while Mitchell leans back against the wall. Two of Mitchell’s fingers are up John’s ass, and John’s moaning and sinking back onto them as he sucks at Mitchell’s tongue, which has got to be shoved halfway down his throat.
“Lorne,” Mitchell greets him, and the rough edge in his voice makes Evan think that maybe they left the gym right after he did, that they’ve been here since then. “You know what to do, or so I’m told.”
Evan blinks as John turns, leaning his sweaty face into Mitchell’s broad shoulder. “Unless you actually want to watch that movie.” And how he can manage sarcasm when he’s practically fucking himself on Mitchell’s fingers Evan isn’t sure, but a movie is probably the furthest thing from his mind as he pulls at his clothing even more erratically than usual, dumping it onto the floor instead of folding it as he normally does. The men on the bed don’t notice, too absorbed in what they’re doing to give a damn at the moment.
Mitchell snaps the fingers on his unoccupied hand and points to the end of the bed and Evan scrambles to obey, sinking to kneel there, far enough away to not be able to touch but close enough to be tempted to lean forward and try. He spreads his knees out and clasps his hands behind his back, staring straight ahead. Straight ahead is a good view, watching as Mitchell pumps his fingers smoothly in and out of John until John’s vibrating, swearing, biting down on Mitchell’s shoulder as he comes in spurts.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, Evan could almost come himself from the sight, from the way Mitchell draws his fingers out and almost pets John’s back, easing him down from his orgasm until John’s not shuddering any more, until John’s smiling lazily and licking along Mitchell’s jaw. Evan moans, wanting to join in, to reach down and touch himself, to do anything except watch.
John turns again at the sound, twisting until he’s facing Evan, and he smirks as his fingers play along Mitchell’s hip where Evan can see them before diving to where he can’t see, but the groan that comes from Mitchell’s mouth and the way his head hits the wall is a pretty good indication of what’s going on. Mitchell’s hips are making these aborted little thrusting motions, like he’d be way more into moving if maybe John would just get off his lap. John reaches back with his other hand and taps on Evan’s knee. His head is resting on Mitchell’s shoulder again, and he’s giving Evan that dirty smirk. “Care to join us?”
Evan has to swallow a few times. “Yes, sir.”
John climbs out of Mitchell’s lap and leans over to kiss Evan, and this isn’t one of those lazy kisses he was just giving Mitchell, oh no. This is searing and burning and demanding, and it feels like he’s trying to mark Evan. It leaves Evan gasping and a little dizzy, but there’s a hand on the back of his neck, grounding him, and he opens his eyes to see John’s face mere inches from his own. “Okay?” John asks softly, his hand still cupping Evan’s neck.
“Yeah,” Evan replies.
“Good,” John says, and as he pulls back Evan can almost see the switch flip, from John to Colonel Sheppard. “We have some visiting officials, Major. I’d like to make sure they get the best possible impression of our fair City, and I think there’s some things you can do to help out with that.”
“What did you have in mind, sir?” Evan is eyeing Mitchell’s cock, huge and full, and the way Mitchell’s watching them with his eyes half-closed.
“Use that mouth of yours however you see fit,” Colonel Sheppard instructs, and Evan does so without hesitation, bracing himself on either side of Colonel Mitchell’s thighs and taking as much of it in his mouth as he can handle. He’s bigger than John is, thicker and longer, and it’s no surprise, given the difference in the rest of their stature. Evan pulls back, swirls his tongue around, bobs his head back down, and Colonel Mitchell sinks his hands into Evan ‘s hair and thrust s a little, shallowly, so Evan opens his mouth as wide as he can and relaxes his throat, tapping on the Colonel’s hip.
“Go for it,” Colonel Sheppard translates from somewhere behind him.
Colonel Mitchell gasps a little, a sharp inhalation, and thrusts again, a little deeper this time. Evan moans as the head of the Colonel’s cock brushes the back of his throat and the Colonel’s eyes squeeze shut, hands clenching in Evan’s hair, and he gets three more thrusts in before he goes still, emptying into Evan’s mouth. Evan swallows it down, every last drop, until the Colonel lets go of his hair and slumps even further back.
“Your staff seems competent, Sheppard,” Colonel Mitchell says a moment later. “Good at following orders. How are they when you throw ‘em a curveball, though?”
Evan shivers, can’t help it, because they’re talking about him like he’s not right fucking there, can’t hear them.
“Major Lorne is very adaptable,” Colonel Sheppard says, clapping Evan on the shoulder. “He picks up on a lot of things.”
Colonel Mitchell smirks at Evan crookedly, and Evan realizes that if there were ever a man as beautiful in his obvious strength as Colonel Sheppard was in his grace, it would be Colonel Mitchell, without a doubt. The two men are very, very different, but their commonality is their stunning looks, and they both have that smirk, the one that kind of makes Evan want to beg for something, anything. “I did notice.”
“Good,” Colonel Sheppard says approvingly.
Colonel Mitchell leans to the side of the bed, grabbing a bag that Evan hadn’t seen before and dragging it across the sheets to nestle between his thighs. “I brought some things with me.” He opens the flap and Colonel Sheppard leans up to look in.
“Hmm,” he says thoughtfully, reaching in and sorting through the contents. Evan’s curious, but he knows better than to ask or, God forbid, look for himself. The items in the bag are clinking as they hit each other, the sound of plastic on plastic, mostly. Colonel Sheppard’s eyes narrow and he snorts, hand stilling in the bag. Colonel Mitchell grins down at him.
“Yeah,” Colonel Mitchell drawls. “Thought you might remember that.”
And Evan realizes, suddenly, that this isn’t the first time the Colonels have been in this position. They’ve been together before. Evan has to close his eyes and draw in a shaky breath. Fuck.
When he opens his eyes, Colonel Sheppard is staring at him over the flap of the bag. There’s a quick flash of something like concern in his expression as Evan looks at him, but it’s gone just like that. The Colonel reaches back to his nightstand and draws the drawer open, flipping the lube out at Evan, who catches it reflexively.
“One finger,” he tells Evan, who nods and slicks up one finger, reaching around to rub it against his entrance. “And turn, Major, so we can inspect your progress.”
Evan moans but obeys, shifting so he’s facing away from them, continuing from there. He slowly pushes his finger in. The angle’s all wrong, and it’s shallow at best, but the noises spill from his mouth anyway, whimpers and groans and gasps because he after what he’s just watched and done it feels like everything he’s ever wanted. He glances back over his shoulder after a moment. Colonel Sheppard is sucking on Colonel Mitchell’s pulse point, darting his tongue out to run over it, and Colonel Mitchell’s eyes are focused on Evan’s hand, at his finger moving in and out of his own body.
Colonel Sheppard turns to face Evan. “Add another, Major.”
Evan clicks the tube open again and feels the slick dripping down his crack as he repositions his hand and pushes back in. He wants to rock against the feeling, to move just so until he’s hitting that sweet spot, but he can’t get there on his own. He pumps and twists his fingers as best he can, until he hears, “Enough.” He immediately pulls his fingers out and waits for further instructions.
There’s weight shifting behind him and Evan suddenly feels something cold and smooth against his entrance. One of the Colonels pushes the toy in, and it’s smaller and thinner than he’s used to but there’s no give, no ply in it. It’s altogether unlike any experience he can dredge up to compare it with, and he just gives up and goes with it.
“Here’s some intel for you, Major,” Colonel Mitchell tells him, his voice close enough to identify him as the one handling the toy. “This is the first dildo that Colonel Sheppard and I bought together.”
Evan’s brain very nearly shorts out at the implications. The Colonels have definitely been together before – first dildo implies more than one – this toy has most definitely been inside Colonel Sheppard, and there’s a good chance it’s been in Colonel Mitchell, too – it’s in him, now, being handled by very deft hands that have clearly done this many, many times.
Evan can’t help it; he thrusts back onto the toy as the Colonel presses it back in. He hears Colonel Sheppard’s quiet huff of laughter as he moves to lay beside Evan. He reaches a hand out to wrap around Evan’s dick, squeezing at the base, knowing how close Evan is. “Don’t,” he warns Evan, leaning forward to lap at a nipple. “Don’t, Major.”
Evan nods, more than a little jerkily. The sensations are driving him crazy – Colonel Mitchell’s warm hands spreading his cheeks open, the toy moving in and out, Colonel Sheppard’s hand on his dick, his tongue flicking across Evan’s chest. It’s almost too much; he hangs his head and lets go and just loses himself in it.
Not so much so, though, that he misses it when Colonel Mitchell finally pulls the toy out, or when Colonel Sheppard’s touches grow fainter and fainter, until he’s left without any sensation at all. He shivers until he feels Colonel Sheppard’s hand on his hip, feels the Colonel settling behind him, feels the warm tip of his cock pressing against his hole.
Evan gasps and sinks back as the Colonel slides in, moaning because the Colonel doesn’t wait, doesn’t even pause before pulling back out and pounding back in over and over. He’s shaking and sweating and thrusting back and through it all he’s concentrating on not coming, on waiting until he’s allowed, only he’s not so sure he’s going to last.
Suddenly, Colonel Sheppard is moaning and writhing and there’s no rhythm to his thrusts, and Evan glances back and sees Colonel Mitchell murmuring into Colonel Sheppard’s ear, one arm around his chest supporting him, the other between their bodies, and Evan closes his eyes as he realizes that Colonel Mitchell probably has those fingers back in Colonel Sheppard’s ass, that every time the Colonel rocks into Evan and back again he’s getting the same sort of feeling, and he can just hear Colonel Mitchell over Colonel Sheppard’s moaning, “Come on, John, finish, come on,” and Evan starts reciting the chemical differences between naquadah and naquadria to keep from coming himself. It’s almost like he’s overhearing something he shouldn’t, except Colonel Mitchell is saying “Not you, Major Lorne, not yet,” as Colonel Sheppard thrusts deep again and comes, so he knows it’s okay.
As soon as Colonel Sheppard pulls out Colonel Mitchell is there, and Evan had been right before: he’s bigger than Colonel Sheppard. Even after the toy and Colonel Sheppard, it’s still a stretch and burn as Colonel Mitchell pushes slowly in, and it’s – God, it’s indescribable, that’s what it is, the way Colonel Mitchell keeps pushing and pushing and Evan has never felt this full in his life. He throws his head back, knowing the walls are soundproofed in here and so, so thankful because the sounds he’s making now would bring the neighbors in a second, somewhere between a moan and a scream, as Colonel Mitchell finally, finally settles all the way in. He’s staying still, though, and there’s a hand on Evan’s face so he opens his eyes, and it’s John in front of him, a light frown on his face.
“Okay?” he asks, and Evan doesn’t say anything, just stares at John for a moment until it fades, until yeah, he’s okay, and then he nods. And then John’s Colonel Sheppard again, leaning in and kissing him hard as Colonel Mitchell rolls his hips and Evan’s drowning in the sensations everywhere. Colonel Mitchell’s hand wraps around his cock and he hears Colonel Sheppard breathing into his ear, and then he’s whispering, “Go ahead, Major Lorne, go ahead,” and then he’s sucking on Evan’s earlobe and everything’s too much and Evan drops his head back down and comes and comes.
Colonel Mitchell’s almost to his own release when Evan finds the world again, and Evan thrusts back as well as he can until the Colonel collapses on top of him and it’s one big tangled mess, the three of them somehow all still in the tiny bed.
John’s the first to move, tugging Mitchell off of Evan and wiping him gently down, pulling him up to the head of the bed and arranging him there. Mitchell makes his way up and presses against Evan’s front, tucking Evan into his broad chest.
“That’s the best sex I’ve had in years,” he tells Evan, who smiles as John slides in behind him and wraps his arm around Evan’s waist.
“Not bad from my end either,” Evan agrees. A thought suddenly occurs to him. “Is that entire bag full of-”
Mitchell just laughs. “I’m here for six weeks, Lorne. Of course it is.”