eretria | Fic: Yoshino, McKay/Carter/Sheppard, NC-17, part 3

She'd lost track of time, her body had become a live-wire. They'd changed positions again and John entered her in one sure, measured thrust. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment but she forced them open again, wanting to see John and those ever-changing eyes looking at her.

Sam slowly locked her ankles up around his waist as he moved inside her, making the angle better, sweeter. Over his shoulder, she saw Rodney kneel behind him. A quiver ran through John as Rodney stroked his hands over John's back. His eyes closed for a moment and his slow thrusts lost rhythm for a few seconds before she could see him building up his control again. He didn't look at Rodney, but concentrated on her breasts. He was ignoring that whatever Rodney was doing felt good. John played with her breasts, sucking one then the other, making her squirm between these long, slow, luxuriant thrusts into her. She was breathing hard, wanted more, faster, harder, but after making her come once already, John was taking his time, stroking into her, learning her taste and her sounds. He was in control now.

Except for Rodney.

Setting a hand on his shoulders, she caught Rodney's gaze again. He looked at her, different than he did before, much more naked and hungry. Positioned between John's legs. She had felt him nudging John's thighs apart earlier, when John had lost his steady, smooth rhythm. Rodney wrapped himself around John from behind. She felt the backs of his hands against her stomach and felt it rising in her again, slow and hot.

John went completely still and Sam wanted to groan in frustration. She pulled John close again and rehooked her legs so she could reach Rodney's sides with her feet, too. Pulled him closer and - oh, God, she should have calculated that - the additional weight pushed John deeper inside her still, hitting a spot that began to send sparks down her spine. John still didn't move, though, just panted and looked at her with an expression of both pain and longing and panic. The stillness stopped her from falling over into another climax, and that made her groan now. She didn't need another orgasm, strictly; could just roll with whatever John needed, but she was so close, it danced just out of her reach, and if he'd only move, God, move already, she'd have the chance of the longest, most intense one she'd had yet, because John was patient and slow and ... The flush spread down to her breasts and she wanted, needed him, them, all of them to finally go on moving, to create that little more friction that was missing. She grabbed John's face and kissed him, long and wet and messy while she pulled with her ankles at Rodney's side. The room was silent except for the sounds of wet suction and hard breathing. Rodney moved, she couldn't see his face over John's shoulder anymore. John kissed her back, slow and not as suave as before. She could feel the freak-out lingering underneath those kisses and she tried to gentle him despite being so fucking close herself, so close that she wanted nothing but for him to pound her into the mattress.

John suddenly jerked away from her lips and gasped, a look of surprised pain washing over his features. The sudden jerk traveled along his body into her and Sam gasped, too. Close, close, so close, but it still wasn't enough. Enough, however, to get John to start moving again. Too slow. Too damn slow. Fresh sweat broke out all over her body, slicking her skin. She could smell the musky scent of both men and it just added to the sensations.

Behind John, Rodney reached around, running his hand along John's arm, from shoulder to wrist. John shook, his shoulders trembling under Sam's fingers. He sped up his movement into her, she could feel his control starting to dissolve.

Rodney laced his fingers through John's fingers where his hand rested on her waist and dragged them up, playing with her nipples.

Sam watched them both, caught between wanting to finally fall over the edge and wanting to watch them together, the slow way in which Rodney got John used to his touch, even though she could see that Rodney looked as surprised as John looked terrified. Rodney's other hand came around John's other side, ran along his ribcage and down to where she and John were joined. John lost it when Rodney started touching him, felt it, too. John's movements got jerkier, faster, less coordinated.

Rodney moved now, she could feel the different rhythm. Something touched her next to where John was buried deep inside her and with a gasp, she realized that it was Rodney, rubbing his erection up against John's ass. Slipping it between his thighs, deep enough to have it touch her, too.

John stuttered out, "Jesus, Rodney – " and surged forward, a strangled cry on his lips. Rodney and John's fingers on her breast, Rodney's other hand between John and her, rubbing her just right, just there, she couldn't bite back a long moan for more. John sped up, jerkily, out of sync, out of control, one long, choking groan on his lips… Sam came. Her hands fell from John's shoulders, too weak to hang on when the climax crashed through her – colors and heat and pleasure so intense that she feared she might never be able to put herself together again, intense enough to hurt and make her beg them to stop, beg them to never stop. She couldn't remember how to breathe anymore. It went on and on, shockwaves of pleasure in time with John's unsteady thrusts, sparked harder by the helpless look of him: his eyes unfocused and his mouth open in an almost pained, "Ah.." Dimly, she felt John lose it completely. A few more thrusts and he was coming, his cock twitching inside her, the feel of him pulsing in her muted by the condom. The wet evidence of Rodney's release spilled over them soon after, as the last waves of her own orgasm crested over her.

They ended up in a sweaty heap, breathing hard. Neither of them spoke. Their weight wasn't uncomfortable yet, and Sam was glad for it anchoring her. Her head spun.

John was panting, too, but it sounded strange. She touched her hands to his hair but John didn't move, even hid his face in her chest. Rodney had his arms around John's chest and drew him out and away from Sam very gently. John tried to pull away, then just went still, quiet and withdrawn. He stayed in Rodney's arms and then began shaking. He was shaking badly, enough to worry Sam.

She'd wanted a night without consequences, but what if it wasn't? What if she and Rodney had pushed John farther than he'd wanted to go?

She curled closer to John and cradled his face in her hands. Kissed him really gently, while Rodney held him from behind still. Except it had become more a hug than anything sexual now.

John tasted of sorrow and missed opportunities and need and Sam understood. Even better when she felt Rodney run his hands along John's arms and John's shivering grew worse.

"John?" she said when she released his lips. She waited until he opened his eyes and then held his gaze, warm and steady.

"It's okay," she said. A frown passed over John's face. He didn't want to understand her meaning, so she had to take matters into her own hands. She let go of him and pushed John over so he was facing Rodney. She propped herself on an elbow and looked at them both looking at each other. Rodney's gaze flickered and John's was terrified. She held a hand between them, touched first Rodney's, then John's, lips.

"It's okay," she emphasized again, then gave John a little push, just enough so his lips met Rodney's. She moved her hand to his shoulder, stroking, long and slow and careful.

They still didn't move, lips against each other as though they had been electrocuted and shocked into immobility, then, finally, Rodney snapped out of it and drew in a big, gasping breath and kissed John.

Finally, she felt the tension slip away as John gave in and kissed Rodney back almost delicately. She touched Rodney's hair and smiled wistfully as she watched them kiss, felt a little twinge at the tenderness between them. It went with the twinge between her legs. She was going to be sore tomorrow. She hadn't had this much sex in one night in longer than she cared to recall.

The kiss seemed to go on and on, John and Rodney learning and knowing and exploring each other's mouths, claiming in sweet tenderness and bright relief. When they finally let go of each other, they rolled apart and pulled her between them. Four arms embraced her and stroked her and the relief and gratefulness they broadcasted silently might have made her weep if she had been the weeping kind.

They were wordless for once.

Except Rodney was never wordless.

Only close.

He murmured into her ear, "This – I never thought – thank you, Sam. Thank you." And then, after a moment's consideration, "My God, we're a mess. Shower. Now."

She had used the bathroom before, but only now learned to appreciate its spaciousness fully. They all fit into the shower – a space large enough to hold almost half of her living room at home.

She stood between them when Rodney turned on the water. The steady, even stream of the two huge shower-heads made the hot water feel like raindrops on her skin, gentling places where enthusiastic hands had gripped too hard. Next to her, John lifted his face into the spray and closed his eyes. The water plastered the hair to his head and made him look impossibly younger. The sexual tension between them had eased by now, and she just felt warm and comfortable between those two men, even though she realized that, judging her normal unwillingness to experiment when it came to sex, and especially sex with co-workers, she really shouldn't be.

Sam shook herself out of the pointless contemplation and pulled John under the shower-spray completely. He was warm and pliant and seemed too tired to care much about what was happening besides getting clean. She smiled and reached around Rodney for the shower-gel and the shampoo. Poured some of the unisex scented gel into her open palm and began washing first John and then Rodney. Their relaxed muscles under slick skin felt pleasant to her hands. She felt like a sculptor, smoothing her hands over them again and again, from shoulder to ass, over biceps and down to slim, strong hands. What before had been an invitation for more was now received with muted sighs. Rodney hummed low under his breath. Sam noticed that John was leaning into her touch, a gesture that told her enough about how long he had been alone and how much he needed to be touched.

Indulging herself a little longer than strictly necessary, she poured shampoo into her palm as well and reached for John, pulling him down so she could reach his head comfortably without having to stand on her toes. Sam spread the shampoo into his hair and felt the lather forming. Gently, she began massaging his scalp, circling her fingers with a light pressure. John all but purred and pushed his head against her fingers, twisting and kissing her shoulder softly.

She was distracted enough that the feel of Rodney's hands on her back startled her at first, but then she came close to purring herself when he began washing her, those nimble, talented hands running over her body without one crude side-trip. He massaged her shoulders gently; finally drawing that moan from her he'd been aiming for all night.

She was glad when he didn't comment, just kissed her other shoulder and reached out to brush over John's hair as well.

They switched roles after a while, John washing Rodney, touching him with enough care to make Sam's heart heavy.

It was only when Sam half fell asleep standing up that they turned the shower off.

Rodney dried her off with a huge white towel, dabbing her skin carefully as though she were made of fine glass. Her hair distracted him and he ran his fingers through it again and again, combing it into shape.

"I've wanted to do this since I first saw you," he admitted. Her eyebrow rose when she met his gaze in the mirror. "Among…other things."

Looking at herself and them in the mirror, she saw John smiling fondly at Rodney's look of rapt concentration. John had a towel slung low around his hips and she was once again struck by how good he looked in white.

When Rodney moved to dry himself off, John bent down and placed a kiss at the crown of her hair. "My grandmother called it daffodil hair, " he said and she couldn't help smiling at him.

It felt slightly odd to have him bring up his grandmother in this moment, but Sam thought that little bit of information meant that John was at ease enough to let his mask slip for a bit. She was happy to see that he could allow it to slip here, with them.

After they had all dried and left the towels in wild disarray on the bathroom floor, they padded back to the bed. Sam was bone-deep tired, heavy lethargy settling in her body and one look at John and Rodney told her that they, too, were barely able to stand up anymore.

No way in hell was she sleeping on the messy sheet, however. With one swift movement, she pulled the sheet off the bed and spread the upper sheet over it.

Sam crawled onto the bed and curled on her side, closing her eyes already. The bed dipped on either side and then she was in their middle again, warm and safe. Hungers and desires sated now, all she could feel was contentment and warmth. Arms thrown over her, pulling her close between them. One of them pulled the duvet over them when Sam started to shiver.

Again, their warmth and their clean scent lulled her and pulled her under. She didn't fight sleep.

~*~

Morning reminded her that cherry blossoms were ephemeral things. The sun through the window warmed her feet until she woke, staring blankly around until the memories of the night before settled into place and she realized she was in Rodney's hotel room, along with John, who slept with a tanned arm slung over her waist. Even the dark stubble didn't make him look old enough to be the base military commander of an outpost in another galaxy. When she checked, Rodney looked a little more like the man she thought she knew: jaw blued with morning beard, brows drown together in a frown as his eyes moved under his eyelids, lost in REM sleep and mumbling.

She didn't have a watch on and it took some time to find a clock. She took a deep breath in relief. She still had time to clean up, get back to her own hotel, pack and make it to the airport with enough time to go through the security check-in. Her arms and legs felt heavy enough that she wasn't enthusiastic about the effort of even getting out of bed, however.

She did, though, slipping carefully free of John's arm. He rolled over and into Rodney's arms without waking.

Sam showered and appropriated one of the sinfully fine robes the hotel provided. She reflected that for the kind of money Rodney must have spent for this suite, the Mandarin Oriental would probably send someone out to buy her street clothes if she called down to the front desk and asked. Too bad she hadn't considered that she'd have to walk out this morning still - or back – in her evening dress.

She fished it up from the floor, frowning at the wrinkles. She didn't even bother with the gloves and stockings. Underwear, though, had to be salvaged. Everything looked different in the morning light, but it didn't look like a mistake, at least. She regretted nothing, she decided. She finished dressing and sat down on the edge of the bed nearest John, who was still resting his head against Rodney's chest. She sincerely hoped they would both be as free of second thoughts as she was, recognizing that if they weren't, it would be much harder for them, because they would have to see each other every day back on Atlantis.

She touched John's shoulder and he woke, tension stiffening his body. "John," she said quietly. He didn't move away from Rodney, but he turned his head and opened one eye. Rodney snorted and snuffled in his sleep. His hand tightened on John's back.

Sam bent close and kissed John's cheek, savoring the warm scent of him, the prickly scrape of his stubble, and the softness of his mouth when he turned enough to kiss her back. "Hey," he murmured blurrily when she pulled away.

She braced one hand on his shoulder and kissed Rodney next, pressing her lips to his until he blinked his eyes open.

John raised his head when she drew back. "You going?" he asked.

"Afraid so," she said.

"Plane to catch?"

"Yes."

"Damn."

Sam smiled.

"I might consider saving the world on a regular basis if last night was always the reward," Rodney said. John swatted him lightly. "Hey."

"Take care of him," she told Rodney.

"Take care of yourself, Colonel Carter," John replied. She knew the return to her rank meant he'd compartmentalized the night they'd just spent somewhere inside where it would never come up if they worked together again.

"You too, Colonel."

John caught her hand and pulled her down, giving her a scorching kiss. "Something to remember, Sam," he rasped into her mouth finally, licking her upper lip one last time, releasing her. His hand slid off her shoulder and down to the bed. Before she could say anything, Rodney sat up and leaned over John, cradling Sam's face between his hands. He looked her in the eye for a moment, then kissed her even better than he had the night before. Her toes curled and her breath caught.

"I've got to go," Sam panted when she managed to open her eyes and pull away again.

Rodney nodded. "Actually, we need to catch our flight back to the Colorado, too."

She went to the door, paused and looked back at them. She settled for an awkward hand wave before walking out of the bedroom and then the suite. A cab took her back to her hotel. No one raised an eyebrow and she supposed DC saw stranger things than a woman out in an evening dress before nine a.m.

Two weeks later, after she returned from Area 51 and the Daedalus had shipped out, she found a postcard in her inbox at the SGC. It showed the cherry trees in full blossom along the Tidal Basin. She read the message on the back and laughed, before tucking it away inside her locker in the gear room.

Flyboy wanted to use the card with a picture of the Washington Monument, but how phallic can you get? Come visit some day.

No signature, but it hardly mattered.

Maybe someday.

A world of trials,
and if the cherry blossoms,
it simply blossoms

Issa

End

Thank you to

lunasky for the lovely image

Secret revealed :(Highlight to find out) Sam's late-and-not-enjoying-it kiss situation? Yes. That was eretria.

Finished: 15 May 2006

Beta by

enname and

munchkinofdoom, both at the last minute. A world of thanks to both of them.

Current Mood: accomplished

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

monanotlisa.livejournal.com

Oh, God, that was insanely, mind-meltingly good, and again, it's not the porn but the heartbreaking tenderness beneath -- you *get* these characters, their facades as well as as what's beneath, and that makes it so beautiful.

Guh.

Thanks.

(I don't even KNOW Sam!)

((But I think I want to. Huh. If only any of the other SG-1 characters interested me, which ain't the case.))

From:

Fic: Yoshino, McKay/Carter/Sheppard, NC-17, part 3

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