[Next entry: "SGA Fic: Save it For Off-Duty (Lorne/Atlantis; PG-13)"]
07/29/2007: "SGA Fic: Substitute (Zelenka/Sheppard's pants; NC-17)"
Title: Substitute
Pairing: Zelenka/Sheppard's pants
Rating: NC-17
Words: About 1100
Summary: The cloth shows familiar creases.
Notes: Story #3 in Unfortunate SGA Pairings Week, a week of rather unfortunate, awkward, or wacky SGA pairings brought to you by mklutz and ana_grrl. I honestly did not set out to make this so porny, but I really like it that way! Many thanks to lyrstzha for beta!
Colonel Sheppard draws attention, Radek knows. Everyone is thoroughly aware of this; sometimes Radek suspects the locals on new planets know this even before Sheppard has arrived. Perhaps there is some advanced warning system – at least, this is what one would assume after hearing Rodney's recounting of missions. Sheppard gets noticed – because of his hair, or his smile, or his ease at activating Ancient technology, or his bravery, or even sometimes because of his facility with mathematics.
Radek can't help but notice Sheppard, too – after all, Radek is an observant man.
"Stop staring at Sheppard's ass," McKay had hissed at him once, during the early days of the expedition. "He's in the Air Force."
Radek had ignored McKay, mostly because McKay stared at Sheppard as much as Radek did. Possibly more. And besides, it had not been Sheppard's ass that he had been staring at. Not precisely.
Radek knows what he likes – he likes people who can have a conversation, something with substance; he likes puddlejumpers and the meticulous work necessary to learn how they function to their limits. He likes efficiency and people who are good at what they do.
And he likes people who wear their pants in a certain way – perhaps a little loose at the waist, but nicely fitted around the buttocks.
Radek can admit to himself that sometimes he can be a small man, a petty man. Consequently, he feels no shame – or only very little – at stealing Sheppard's pants. He works hard for everyone at Atlantis, and he puts up with Rodney's rare but terrible, vengeful moods. And after all, the Daedalus is coming regularly now, and Sheppard can have an endless supply of new pants.
It is only efficient, he would say if anyone asked, that Sheppard be relieved of his oldest, most worn BDUs. It would not do for Sheppard's pants to become ripped during a mission, perhaps causing him to trip and fall on Rodney.
Thankfully, no one asks, and no one knows. It would be most embarrassing and tedious to explain that while Radek knows he cannot have Sheppard – who is Air Force, and all evidence suggests that he is either heterosexual or infatuated with Rodney – he is willing to settle for Sheppard's pants as a substitute.
"That is deeply, deeply sad," he can imagine Rodney saying, "and tells me more than I wanted to know about how truly fucked up you are."
Perhaps it is more deeply sad and depraved that he is thinking about Rodney's derision as he's pulling Sheppard's BDUs from the bottom drawer, from underneath the folds of Radek's own clothes. The fabric is soft to the touch, a faint hint of silkiness where the cloth is most worn.
He unfolds the pants, shaking them out gently. The cloth shows familiar creases – Radek always folds them the same way – ridges that he traces with his fingertips.
The floor is cold against his knees, but Radek ignores it, focussing instead on the weight of the pants in his hands, the glide as he slowly undoes the zipper. The room is so quiet that he can hear the quirks of the zipper – the minute rasp at the top, the way the pitch is slightly higher at the bottom, as though the metal is somehow a little smoother. He's not sure what that means – perhaps Sheppard undoes his pants slowly at first, then more insistently, damaging the metal, wearing it down. He can imagine it – Sheppard's reluctance as he is propositioned, slight protests, but quickly followed by intensity and sudden need. He wonders what it is that pushes through Sheppard's reluctance, that gets the zipper suddenly yanked down the rest of the way. Is it the right kind of kiss – a little dirty around the edge? Or perhaps Sheppard likes his earlobe nibbled.
Perhaps it takes very little at all, simply hands on his ass, or a knee between his legs. Radek does not know.
But he very much enjoys speculating. So many thoughts – Sheppard easing down his zipper, eyes lidded. Sheppard's hand slipping inside, stroking himself through thin cotton underpants, all the while licking his lips. Sheppard, after a long day, coming back to his room and jerking off while the pants are loose and open around his hips.
Radek groans a little, sliding his legs apart and rubbing his cock. His own pants are too tight now – tight from kneeling, straining across his backside; tight in the front, his cock pressing against the zipper. He can only imagine what he must look like – kneeling on the floor, face flushed, one hand working between his legs, the other clenching a pair of pants. What would people say, if they found him like this, what would Sheppard say if he recognised the pants –
The thought makes him harder, and quickly, before he is too far gone, he pushes himself upright, fumbling with his zipper. His pants come off easily, as do his boxers. Then he's slipping on Sheppard's pants, eyes closing at the graze of cloth against his thighs. They do not fit him – a little long in the leg, and too small along his buttocks even though he doesn't do up the zipper. But the squeeze only excites him more, enough that he barely makes it to the bed before he's stroking his cock. The open front of the pants brushes his hand with each movement, and he wonders if this is how Sheppard does it after a mission. He wonders if Sheppard ever imagines someone else doing this for him – some unfamiliar hand on Sheppard's cock, twisting.
He twists his hand, and then rubs the head of his cock with his palm, a slow, luxurious motion. Reaching down with his free hand, he cups his balls – cloth against the back of his hand, familiar heavy warmth cradled in his palm. His hips jerk – Sheppard's pants chaffing against his bare ass – and he's close. So close. Sometimes he can slow it down, take the pants back off and jerk off with the cloth wrapped around his cock. But not today – today he just moves his hand faster, squeezing his balls with just the right pressure, and then he comes – all over his hand, all over Sheppard's pants.
This is exactly what he needs; it is the right way to relax. He settles back on the bed, into the pants, momentarily contented and breathless. It is so tempting to simply pull the covers up around him, to nap. But he must get up, undress, and have a shower. He knows this. There is work to do.
Still, he stays there until his earpiece crackles. "Zelenka?"
He sighs, pushing himself upright. "Yes, Colonel?"
"We still on for the test flight?"
Puddlejumper five has been problematic, but Radek is certain he has worked out the kinks in the mechanics. Still, tests flights are necessary standards. "Yes. I will meet you in fifteen minutes."
He pulls the earpiece off, and reluctantly steps out of the pants.
End
