One of these days, Rodney McKay was going to learn to keep his mouth shut.
It was unfortunate that today hadn't been that day, that he hadn't figured out early on that when these people said things like ritual and common trading practice and sacrifice to the Ancients, it was probably a Very Bad Idea.
Anything that involved sacrifice was a bad idea. He should have known that it wasn't going to be a sacrificial pig roast, or a break a pigeon's neck over a stone altar, no, that couldn't happen in a place like Pegasus, but Rodney would have appreciated it if that was what they meant by sacrifice for once.
Just once.
They'd been sent in different directions -- Teyla and Rodney one way, Ronon and John the other, and there had been a guide with both of them. The fact that their guide had ended up pointing a scary laser-thing at them and making them strip down to their bare skin was, of course, just part and parcel of this very dangerous, very annoying galaxy.
"Okay, hey -- could you point that the other way?" Rodney fumbled with his tac-vest, fingers catching and slipping at the zipper, the snaps and the velcro. He didn't actually want to get out of it, because there were all sorts of panels that could deflect projectile death but probably not laser death.
Laser death meant serious business.
The grim line of the escort's mouth was undeniably dour. "Ye'll be after sheddin' 'em all now, an' the girly. An' when i's done, ye'll be comin' back an' thankin' me." There was another grumble under his breath, something about unfairness, and why was it always his turn, but Rodney wasn't exactly sure he wanted to know what that meant. In fact, he was pretty sure he didn't want to know.
The guy was probably pissed off about getting blood all over him. Rodney shrugged off the tac-vest and he was trying, he was honestly trying, to get naked as fast as he could. It wasn't something he could do easily, not when his fingers were shaking. "I'm hurrying."
"I believe he would like for us to hurry faster," Teyla murmured, stepping out of her panties and, oh. Oh, wow. Yes, that was a memory that would be with him for a very incredibly long time. A good memory. A memory that would embarrass him to the depths of his soul for, oh, quite possibly eternity.
She was gorgeous. She was pinup girl hot, chick who never gave him her phone number hot. Rodney tried to not stare, tried to not ogle her breasts or her pussy, and looked up at the ceiling. She was all woman, and she could kick their collective asses, except Ronon's. If she was doing it naked, she could probably distract him with just being herself and win anyway.
"Undressing faster."
Rodney had never liked being naked in front of people. Gym class had been a form of hell best left unremembered, and he wasn't about to talk about that one water aerobics class in college that he'd been forced to take. Never.
By the time his shorts hit the floor, his hands cupped over his cock, their 'escort' was gesturing with his laser-thing. "Please step into the chamber."
"If you expect me to have sex with her, you are dead dead wrong. Your culture is sick, do you hear me? The Ancients won't be affronted if--" The laser thing was gestured at him again, and he staggered back towards the chamber. "Okay, I'm going!"
The door of the chamber clanged shut behind them, and Teyla lifted her head, careful not to look down. She didn't seem nearly as embarrassed as he did, so she was probably trying to save him the mortification. "Well, doctor. I am afraid we are now at somewhat more of a disadvantage than before."
He wished he'd been locked away with Ronon. Ronon would have had knives in his hair and they would have been able to pry the chamber door open. Rodney wasn't even going to ask if she had any weapons hidden. It was just better to look at the ceiling. "Understatement of THE decade. I can't remember the last time I was locked in a cell and naked."
"Do you not remember last week, and the...."
"Yes, yes, I'd been hoping to forget about that." There was just something about being rubbed with oils that smelled like skunk that made him want to avoid thinking about these things, but at least the native population had done it naked because it apparently never came out of clothing.
The hiss of gas was an unpleasant way to come back to the immediate future.
"Oh my god, oh my god, Teyla, don't breathe! Don't--" He clapped his hands over his face, trying to not breathe, and talking was breathing. Oh fuck.
Oh, fuck, because that, that hurt. That hurt a whole lot, and, and, and passing out. Passing out? Was the best idea he'd had all day.
The wine had been fabulous, the cheese had been pretty damn good, and being plied with sweets that were remarkably like baklava? This was high on John Sheppard's list of Cool Days to Have.
"So," Ronon rumbled across the way. "Why do you think they sent McKay with Teyla?"
"I dunno. Maybe they thought he was a little prissy?" Prissier than Ronon, anyway.
If he went with the idea that they separated the men out from the women, it only made logical sense that Rodney went with Teyla. Not to slur Teyla, but if they thought Rodney was womanly enough to separate out with the women, well. He'd have to slip a pastry into his tac-vest to give it to Rodney when they met up again, because it was a shame he was missing out on the feast.
"Huh."
"Huh? What's huh?" John glanced around, wondering what might have caught Ronon's eye. They were a little on the wrong side of not-entirely-sober, so it was probably nothing.
"Their leader is coming back." That huh. Ronon didn't elaborate, didn't say if he had Teyla and Rodney with him or a weapon on him, no, just that he was coming back and John had to turn around to see.
The guy was kind of funny. He waddled along with his hands shoved up his sleeves, short-trimmed gray beard full of crumbs, smudged lenses resting carefully on the bridge of his nose. He smiled a lot, and he smelled something like fried calamari.
It was disturbing.
"Gentlemen, gentlemen. Are you, I hope you're, that is to say...."
"We're enjoying it very much, Your Eminence," John reassured him.
"Good, good. Uh, gentlemen, if you'd like to join us for the next part of the ceremony..." He smiled again, a flash of his teeth, and he gestured for them to join him wherever he'd come from. Probably.
"Next part?" John mouthed, raising an eyebrow. Ronon shrugged, and they got up, John grabbing one of the almost-like-petit-pan-au-chocolat things and slipping it into a pocket. Ronon saw him, but he didn't laugh, much. After all. A fed Rodney was at least a moderately less-pissy Rodney. Even Ronon had to agree with the general pursuit of a mellower Rodney. He talked a little less when his mouth was full, too.
"The next part. It is a ceremonial sacrifice to the Ancients that the leaders of all trading parties partake of with us. Your companions are ready."
Excellent.
John hoped that didn't mean they'd have to shoot their way out of a ceremony involving Rodney and Teyla bent backwards over alters with sharp knives waiting.
"So, Your Eminence. How, uh, often does this ceremony have to be performed? We're really interested in the...." What had they called it? "...scolsa that you served us." It was the almost-but-not-quite-chocolate, and that would make everybody happy in the long run. The Daedalus brought plenty of supplies, but it never hurt to pursue more chocolate. After all, Atlantis had some interesting machines that allowed them to refine things. He wasn't ready to think of the place as a chocolate factory, but if it meant they could keep the scolsa in-house, and give the bars out as good will and barter items? That would be perfect. Most people in Pegasus galaxy didn't think much of the taste of peanut butter or nutritional power bars, but they were all over Hershey's.
"You will remove your clothes, and after a short time, your companions will come to you. It is... truly, as simple as that. Afterwards, we will discuss what we would like in exchange for the scolsa with all four of you." That there was an afterwards and that he mentioned the four of them was fantastic.
"...remove our clothes." Great. This was sounding like last week and the thing with the skunk-stuff. Well. At least Carson had laid out a supply of the tomato-juice, and that had helped. Maybe everybody wouldn't yell when they found out the chili supplies had gone to getting the stench off of them. "Okay. We can do that."
Ronon grunted. "Yeah. Guess we can." Obviously he was still pissed about the skunk-stuff, too.
At least it hadn't been good chili. "Fantastic!" The leader of the Meyalns turned to take them towards a tunnel that was lined every once in a while with a torch. "There are two separate rooms. One will have the warrior named Teyla, and the other will have your Doctor McKay?" He made that a question, like he wasn't sure of what rank Rodney had been ranting about being, probably while he'd undressed.
"You are allowed to choose."
Have. That sounded really.... Well. Okay. "Rock, paper, scissors?" he offered, and the look Ronon gave him said it all without words. "Right. Uh, I'll take McKay, then." John handled his hysterics better, and by now, McKay would probably be shrieking like a girl.
He shouted that he hadn't signed up for public humiliation and degradation, and that he was a scientist and things like that never happened to Radek, or they didn't happen often enough. John had most of the full speech memorized by that point, and he could cut Rodney off it he started to jump the gun on his words before he even said them.
Ronon smirked, and nodded. "Teyla. Where is she?"
The man twisted to open a door on the left side of the hallway. "Coming down the corridor that leads to this room. You will have to wait."
From the sound of it, Teyla and Rodney would be prepped for whatever was going on, and that was a pretty good thing. John liked knowing what it was he was supposed to do. It helped him know when the time to run showed up. "McKay?" he asked as the bowlegged pigeon-toed leader waddled shut the door and headed deeper down the corridor.
"He is this way. Separate corridor, separate chamber." Like it was nice and organized and they'd done it a hundred times before. If it was just stripping Rodney naked and expecting him to walk in a straight line, it was the stupidest, easiest ceremony ever. The leader stopped before another door, and opened it. "You will have him in there."
Huh. Have was a word imbued with a lot of dirty, all right. A whole lot of dirty, judging by the looks of that bed, all satin curtains and sashes and almost as much of a cathouse boudoir as the one Mara had seduced him in on the planet where they'd found all the drones and the extra puddle jumpers.
The door slammed shut behind him before he could as much as protest. Great, now the chances that Rodney was going to throw a big tasseled pillow at him had just shot up through the sky.
"Hey, McKay?" John called, stepping forward cautiously. The guy had said he needed to get naked, but there was this part where he wasn't sure McKay wouldn't scream and run away if John was naked that soon. Well, if he was naked when Rodney came in, there was less of a chance that he'd be all weird and body-conscious.
There wasn't an answer to his call, but he could hear something. Maybe Rodney was gagged.
"Hey, Rodney?" he asked again, shedding his t-shirt and starting to work open his belt. "They seem to require me to, uh..." Yeah. How to put that? It definitely wasn't going to go over with Rodney so well, but maybe if John just stripped and went and got Rodney in the bed, they'd work things out.
He was pretty sure there was some kind of camera system on them, or maybe a good old-fashioned peephole to make sure it happened. It wasn't the first time John had nailed or sucked another guy, and he could give Rodney the 'stressful situations don't make you gay' speech and everything would be fantastic.
He could hear a shuffle.
"McKay?" Okay. He was getting nervous, and when John heard it again, he moved to a door and pushed it open slowly into darkness. "Rodney?"
There was another shuffle, and fucking god, why was the hallway dark like that? Rodney didn't shuffle, he stomped and he stormed and occasionally he bolted off running like a girl.
And was that a slurp noise?
"Rodneeeeeeeeee!"
So, there were definitely times when screaming like a girl became a necessity instead of a laughable option. Having one pale tentacle reach out and wrap around his thigh was way high on that list. What the ever loving fuck!? And his gun was on the other side of the room!
It had two legs, stumpy, off to either side of its torso, and John wasn't sure what its muscular structure or anything could have been, but Rodney would have wanted to know. Except that from looking at the big blue eyes, he had a sneaking feeling that it was Rodney he was looking at, Rodney who was snaking a tentacle around his thigh.
"Hey, buddy." Okay, so his voice was shaking, but he had good reason. Rodney had scared the shit out of him, and maybe he was still scared shitless, but what the hell. What the hell, and then Rodney slithered closer in a fast cockroach scuttle that made the hair on the back of John's neck rise, because. Rodney, yeah, but Rodney-tentacle-THING, and that was just freaky, especially when those tentacles were wrapping themselves around his legs.
One, two, three, okay, there were seven of them. Seven tentacles, and they were all moving, just like Rodney's hands, including the two that were sliding up his legs, stroking and twitching. He almost expected suckers on the bottom, but they were smooth and slick.
Rodney didn't say anything. Well, he said something, but it sounded like a burble and John didn't know where it was coming from.
He didn't want to think about where it was coming from. "C'mon, buddy, let's, uh... Let's get you lying down or something, whatever this is, it's bound to wear off." His skin was crawling, but John was basically a good guy, so he reached down and picked up the hefty burbling Rodney tentacle-monster THING and carried it to the bed. Things got a little shirty when he felt it groping at his waistband, but hey. He was a man, a soldier. He could... Okay, no, no, he couldn't face this.
He could pick Rodney up, and Rodney was pulling at his clothes. That was the most absurd thing, Rodney groping him when he was holding on to his skin. Smooth and slick and warm, and while he thought Rodney would be warm, he wouldn't be toteable under normal circumstances.
He definitely wouldn't be slipping his tentacles -- fingers! fingers! -- up to John's mouth and trying to slide them inside.
Ugh. Goo. "Hey, let go. C'mon, McKay. Let go, let's get you in the bed so I can...."
Hm.
Hm, okay. That goo didn't taste half-bad.
This was probably a Very Bad Thing.
The tentacle pressed in again, startling him enough to make him stumble backwards to fall on the bed. The tentacle slid back into his mouth, pressing the advantage when Rodney landed on top of him.
This was definitely a Very Bad Thing.
The longer Rodney did it, the better John liked it, relaxing back into the bed and slurping on the damn thing like it was some kind of all day sucker, and the more he tasted it, the slicker it got, the more he wanted. "Mmmmmnnnn." Oh, crap. He was so very, very screwed.
He was screwed and this was going to go down in history as the worst first contact event that didn't result in lost lives that he'd ever been involved in. There was another happy burble, and he could feel that one tentacle fucking his mouth while two more worked at getting rid of his pants.
John could only hope that Teyla and Ronon were in a similar position so that they wouldn't have to talk about any of this at a later date. Oh, God, he hoped. "Mmmm." Mmmm, because Rodney was fucking his mouth with that tentacle, and two were stripping off his pants. That still left a couple of others, and when one of them wrapped around his cock and a third slid back to rub between his ass cheeks, John was surprised his eyes didn't pop out from the shock, or maybe the pleasure. One or the other. Didn't matter.
It didn't matter, because huge blue eyes were looking at him, and there was another burble, a happy sounding one, while the freed tentacles slid around and stroked his skin and tickled his thighs and the tentacles on his cock and in his mouth and that third one kept rubbing, working away.
Oh. Oh, wow, there just weren't any words for this, and he probably shouldn't be enjoying it nearly as much as he was. He'd seen Urotsikudoji, like any other guy in the Air Force looking for dirty animated porn, and it should have been a lot more disturbing.
If Rodney shoved more than one of those tentacles up his ass, it would be a lot more disturbing. He tried to say so; it just failed miserably. That was the thing. It was tough to talk with his mouth full.
The stumpy little legs settled on either side of his hips, and that one tentacle was stroking his cock while he thought about how fantastic it would feel to have his cock buried in Rodney's ass, to have Rodney just sitting on his hips riding him and complaining the whole time about how much his legs were going to hurt in the morning. He wanted that more than he wanted the tentacle that was teasing a tip against his asshole while the tentacle in his mouth pulled back out of his mouth.
"Jesus, Rodney, tell me you've still got a aaauuuungh!" Oh, holy fuck, holy fuck, tentacle, tentacle sliding IN, and nothing was supposed to stretch like that and feel good. There had to be, had to be something in whatever those excretions were, and John shoved his hips up helplessly, gasping for breath.
Rodney burbled cheerily again, and oh, oh, fuck, that was still sliding up his ass. The self-lubricating thing was handy and good, but a little time to adjust would make it feel ten times better than it already did. In and out and in and in again, the tentacle near his mouth sliding down just a little to play at his lips so that he could lap out his tongue and taste.
Still sweet, and one of the tentacles had wrapped around his cock to give him a deep, slick pocket to fuck, another one sliding into his ass along with the one thrusting, and he wanted to scream, wanted to, fuck, fuck, fuck, yes, because it was teasing at him, sliding in just to flick over his prostate, and he was so fucking close. So close.
In and out of his ass, One sliding and one just resting and one wrapped around his cock, like he was Rodney's personal sex plaything, and one sliding back to play at his mouth, which left three that were sliding over his body, but he hoped that Rodney didn't get excited and try to fit them all in.
Oh, God. He really hoped.
John gave a whine when Rodney moved the tentacle around his cock away, the tease of it making him give jerky pants of breath. It was just cruel, cruel and unusual, and he thought maybe he was saying so, but fuck, fuck, fuck. Oh fuck. The tentacles in his ass were starting to move in unison, twisting and twining, and he knew that if Rodney remembered this, he would make fun of John forever for those sounds, but it was, it was going to make him come, just that. Just that, and nothing else, not even the tentacle tips tracing over his pectorals.
It was like being fucked by two guys at once, except without length issues and falling out problems, not that John had ever done that, no, but he'd seen it and it had looked both hot and troublesome. This was oozing slick and squirming around in his ass, twisting in and out and together and making his dick weep, making his balls pull up tight, and he was going to spurt all over tentacle creature Rodney's back. He was going to come, and when he did, it was going to be so good, so incredible, and his entire body shuddered, brain shutting down as Rodney shoved them in just right, so, so fucking good. He was pretty sure he yelled, or maybe even screamed, but he came all over the place, hard pulsing jets that hurt, and Rodney kept right on fucking him through it.
Right through the shudders and the shivers and the time period where John preferred to stop touching his cock and to give everything a little rest because there was a good ache and then there was the need a break ache, and good ache was crossing the line to too many squirmy things up his ass, moving faster and faster, and oh, oh fuck, smacking like a jackhammer against his prostate.
He didn't remember having repeat orgasms like that in high school, so having one now hurt like hell, spiked the pleasure higher, made him give a (very manly) scream that echoed back from the walls, and then there was a wet spurt, and another one, and several more, whole gallons of Rodney-tentacle juice squirting out all over him, covering his torso and his ass and his thighs.
It was hot in a porno way, and kind of pretty gross, because there was a satiated burble and the tentacles slipped out of his ass without so much as a 'hey, pulling out now' warning, before they left him aching and empty, and the tentacles flopped heavily on his thighs.
John couldn't get his mouth to work for several minutes, but when he finally did, it still sounded sex-slurred, exhausted. "Jesus, Rodney. You nearly killed me doing that."
The tentacles stretched and piled themselves onto his chest in response, and he gave another sated burble. Yeah, that was probably the best sex of Rodney's life, if he could remember it, the time he fucked John and jerked him off and fucked his mouth at the same time.
It might be the best sex of John's life, too, come to think of it.
"Mmm. Hey, you know, I wonder what's going on with Ronon and Teyla...."
One tentacle shuddered a little, and blue eyes peered at him, and that was Rodney. Only Rodney could glare at him in that situation, and he slapped John's chest with one slick tentacle.
Yeah. They'd been in worse situations. For the moment, there wasn't a lot to do about it but yawn, hope Rodney's tentacles didn't get back into the idea of fucking him any time soon, and wait for somebody to come and give them some answers.
He was just starting to get comfortable with the idea of dozing off while lying in the biggest wet-spot of his life, when he felt the tip of one tentacle poke at his asshole again, along with a questioning burble from Rodney.
Great. Just great.
He was one of those anime tentacle monsters who never stopped being horny, and John gave a deep, heartfelt groan when the first tentacle slipped inside again. "Dammit, McKay, I'm sore!"
The bed was just as lush, but the bedding had found different uses. Teyla was using a garish sheet as a vague robe, mostly to keep her body heat in her body, and Ronon sat peaceably across from her on the mattress, balancing a tray of food on his knees.
"I wonder how long it will be until they come to fetch us. I have not minded their treatment, compared to other planets that we have explored, but I am sure Colonel Sheppard is eager to get to negotiations."
Ronon gave a sound that might have been agreement, or maybe not. "I dunno. Why do you suppose everybody's gotta be naked? Seems like a pretty silly ritual to me."
A smile played over her lips. "I am sure that if we question their leader, he could explain the significance to us. Perhaps it has to do with the..." She paused, pondering what Doctor Weir would suggest it was. She always had an interest in the cultures of Pegasus. "Shedding of expectations, much like clothing and status symbols. I am not sure. Their tea is lovely."
"Mmm," Ronon agreed.
