07/28/2007: "SG-1 Fic: Coiled (Teal'c/Cameron; NC-17)"

Title: Coiled
Pairing: Teal'c/Cameron
Rating: NC-17
Words: 689
Summary: Post-'Insiders' smut. Also, 'We're so screwed' was an awesome series of Farscape eps (that is in no way related to this story, other than through the phrase 'we are so screwed').

"We are so screwed," Cameron mutters as he enters the room, kicking the door shut behind him. The sound will echo in the hallways, people will wonder, but Cameron's sure he's not the only one wanting to kick a few doors, make a lot of noise. "The brass are going to eat us for breakfast." He pulls his shirt over his head, dropping it to the floor. "And civilian oversight? They'll never let up now."

They can't seem to catch a break. Figure one thing out, another problem takes its place. They're scrambling, starting to make sloppy mistakes.

"We should have known. Guessed. Something." What's next? "All we need now is Ba'al deciding he's going to make nice with the Ori."

"That is unlikely," Teal'c says as he steps forward. "The Goa'uld do not share power easily. Nor, it seems, do the Ori."

Cameron shrugs. "Or the Ori could get a hold of him. Find out what he knows. Isn't like there aren't enough of them out there."

Momentarily, Teal'c looks troubled. "It is possible."

"Screwed," Cameron says again, rubbing his hand across his eyes. His skin feels gritty, tacky. Damn, he needs sleep. The lighting in Teal'c's room is dim, familiar. It doesn't help soothe the jittery exhaustion. "Ba'al's gotta be laughing up a storm right about –"

The hand that covers his mouth is heavy, insistent. "Enough," Teal'c says. "It is done."

Yeah. For now.

Teal'c keeps his hand over Cameron's mouth while he flicks open Cameron's pants. It's a bad idea, doing this here, with who knows how many personnel walking past the door, glancing at the room they all know is Teal'c's, wondering maybe what he does in there, maybe thinking about knocking, having a friendly chat.

But Cameron's been hard since his eyes adjusted to the dim light. So he locks the door, and he pushes aside thoughts of the shit pile they've brought down on themselves. Teal'c's palm is warm against Cameron's mouth, and he licks out and settles back against the door like it's his new home. He watches as Teal'c gets to his knees, leaning towards Cameron, letting his hand slide away from Cameron's mouth, and down, pushing cloth away.

Anticipation coils in his belly. This is what Cameron needs right now – to focus on this, the familiar glide of Teal'c's mouth, his hands holding Cameron's hips tight against the door. This, this is perfect – the way Teal'c sucks, presses his tongue upwards, moves his mouth down, down. Thumbs stroke along Cameron's hip bones, matching the slide of Teal'c's lips, and the graze of teeth that leaves Cameron gasping, trying to push his hips forward, closer, deeper.

But Teal'c holds tight, so Cameron just clenches his hands around Teal'c's wrists, and lets Teal'c take whatever the hell he wants.

It's all easy slide, warm mouth, pleasure building slowly, the touch of lips layered over the stroke of tongue. Everything suddenly ratchets up when Teal'c's hand shifts, sliding down across Cameron's thigh, between his legs, one finger nudging back, pressing up behind Cameron's balls.

Teal'c's mouth glides back, tongue circling around the head of Cameron's cock, over and over, taunting. His finger circles too, tiny movements, perfect pressure.

Jesus, he wants more than this, wants that blunt finger pressing inside him, insistent, opening him up. But Teal'c sucks him in again, all the way down, and it's too late, too much. Cameron's coming, Teal'c swallowing around him, tongue still stroking, even as Cameron's legs shake, as he scrabbles to keep himself up against the wall. "Yeah," he mutters, through the aftershocks, grateful for Teal'c's hand keeping him steady, for the warmth of his mouth, still and moist.

This is what he needed.

He's still catching his breath, exhaustion pushed aside, when Teal'c pulls away slowly, and stands, unbuckling his own pants. Cameron's eyes still feel like they're a little crossed when Teal'c urges him down, one hand a familiar weight on Cameron's shoulder.

And as Cameron looks up, grinning, as he breathes in Teal'c's familiar scent, as his breath hitches in anticipation, he knows he's really, really screwed.

End.




	Home Archives July 2007 SG-1 Fic: Coiled (Teal'c/Cameron; NC-17) [Previous entry: "SG-1 Fic: Of Virtue Fair (Vala, Mitchell, Carter, Daniel, O'Neill, Martouf, Nirrti; PG-13)"] [Next entry: "SG-1 Fic: Five Earths Cameron Mitchell Might Have Known (PG-13)"] 07/28/2007: "SG-1 Fic: Coiled (Teal'c/Cameron; NC-17)" Title: Coiled Pairing: Teal'c/Cameron Rating: NC-17 Words: 689 Summary: Post-'Insiders' smut. Also, 'We're so screwed' was an awesome series of Farscape eps (that is in no way related to this story, other than through the phrase 'we are so screwed'). "We are so screwed," Cameron mutters as he enters the room, kicking the door shut behind him. The sound will echo in the hallways, people will wonder, but Cameron's sure he's not the only one wanting to kick a few doors, make a lot of noise. "The brass are going to eat us for breakfast." He pulls his shirt over his head, dropping it to the floor. "And civilian oversight? They'll never let up now." They can't seem to catch a break. Figure one thing out, another problem takes its place. They're scrambling, starting to make sloppy mistakes. "We should have known. Guessed. Something." What's next? "All we need now is Ba'al deciding he's going to make nice with the Ori." "That is unlikely," Teal'c says as he steps forward. "The Goa'uld do not share power easily. Nor, it seems, do the Ori." Cameron shrugs. "Or the Ori could get a hold of him. Find out what he knows. Isn't like there aren't enough of them out there." Momentarily, Teal'c looks troubled. "It is possible." "Screwed," Cameron says again, rubbing his hand across his eyes. His skin feels gritty, tacky. Damn, he needs sleep. The lighting in Teal'c's room is dim, familiar. It doesn't help soothe the jittery exhaustion. "Ba'al's gotta be laughing up a storm right about –" The hand that covers his mouth is heavy, insistent. "Enough," Teal'c says. "It is done." Yeah. For now. Teal'c keeps his hand over Cameron's mouth while he flicks open Cameron's pants. It's a bad idea, doing this here, with who knows how many personnel walking past the door, glancing at the room they all know is Teal'c's, wondering maybe what he does in there, maybe thinking about knocking, having a friendly chat. But Cameron's been hard since his eyes adjusted to the dim light. So he locks the door, and he pushes aside thoughts of the shit pile they've brought down on themselves. Teal'c's palm is warm against Cameron's mouth, and he licks out and settles back against the door like it's his new home. He watches as Teal'c gets to his knees, leaning towards Cameron, letting his hand slide away from Cameron's mouth, and down, pushing cloth away. Anticipation coils in his belly. This is what Cameron needs right now – to focus on this, the familiar glide of Teal'c's mouth, his hands holding Cameron's hips tight against the door. This, this is perfect – the way Teal'c sucks, presses his tongue upwards, moves his mouth down, down. Thumbs stroke along Cameron's hip bones, matching the slide of Teal'c's lips, and the graze of teeth that leaves Cameron gasping, trying to push his hips forward, closer, deeper. But Teal'c holds tight, so Cameron just clenches his hands around Teal'c's wrists, and lets Teal'c take whatever the hell he wants. It's all easy slide, warm mouth, pleasure building slowly, the touch of lips layered over the stroke of tongue. Everything suddenly ratchets up when Teal'c's hand shifts, sliding down across Cameron's thigh, between his legs, one finger nudging back, pressing up behind Cameron's balls. Teal'c's mouth glides back, tongue circling around the head of Cameron's cock, over and over, taunting. His finger circles too, tiny movements, perfect pressure. Jesus, he wants more than this, wants that blunt finger pressing inside him, insistent, opening him up. But Teal'c sucks him in again, all the way down, and it's too late, too much. Cameron's coming, Teal'c swallowing around him, tongue still stroking, even as Cameron's legs shake, as he scrabbles to keep himself up against the wall. "Yeah," he mutters, through the aftershocks, grateful for Teal'c's hand keeping him steady, for the warmth of his mouth, still and moist. This is what he needed. He's still catching his breath, exhaustion pushed aside, when Teal'c pulls away slowly, and stands, unbuckling his own pants. Cameron's eyes still feel like they're a little crossed when Teal'c urges him down, one hand a familiar weight on Cameron's shoulder. And as Cameron looks up, grinning, as he breathes in Teal'c's familiar scent, as his breath hitches in anticipation, he knows he's really, really screwed. End.