Fic: The Sensual World
Apr. 1st, 2006 03:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
trinityofoneShiny links:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mutecornett made gorgeous art for Realm of Dryads. See it here (NWS). If I were less afraid of my mother, I would print the first one out and hang it on my wall.
20thcenturyvole wrote some wonderful comment fic here, including a terrific one for me, which is also probably indirectly responsible for what follows.
Which is, well. I'm supposed to be writing an essay on why Ronald Reagan was a wanker, and while that's a topic I should be able to go off on at length, Kate Bush's "The Sensual World" came up on my iTunes a few times, and I kept getting...distracted.
Porn: 1, Essay: 0.
But, um. It's a win for you guys, right? I'll tell myself that.
Music for reading: The Sensual World - Kate Bush
And fic!
Title: The Sensual World
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Category: PWP
Length: ~1175 words
Summary: He took the kiss of seedcake back from his mouth.
The Sensual World
They rose from their crouch together, holding hands. There were other hands on them, leading them through the high-ceilinged hall and over to the banquet table, covered in white cloth. The banquet was not for them. They had their own banquet, waiting.
In front of the largest table, they drew to a halt. Rodney looked up at John with blue eyes, clouded. He broke the hold of their hands and John swayed, though he’d been expecting this, anticipating it, wanting it. Rodney reaching up: slowly, slowly, lifting the veil over John’s head. His hands slipped down as soon as he let the fabric drop. They gripped each other’s shoulders, weaving in place.
The priestess bowed her head, then cut loose the piece of seedcake. Rodney’s lips dropped open obligingly and she laid it on his tongue. John could already taste it, warm and earthy. And then he did, he did: leaning forward, taking the kiss of seedcake back from his mouth.
Honey-sweet, crumbling between their firm lips, in their warm mouths. Pulling back and seeing the clouds moving through Rodney’s eyes, white swirls of wanting. Then hands on their backs again, guiding them. Outside into the light: Teyla and Ronon were waiting, smiling broadly, blindly. Rose petals spilled from Teyla’s fingertips.
The world whirled past them, color and light and sound, and Rodney’s warm presence at his side, as they were guided through the square, amongst the cheers and the scattered flowers, the bells ringing out from the tower, ushering them on. When they reached their chambers, the villagers clapped and bade them farewell. John’s veil swirled behind him in the wind, catching petals like a spider’s web.
Inside, they turned to each other. John’s mouth felt dry. He could still taste honey and grain and Rodney’s lips, and he stared at them, wanting to taste them again. But it was not for him to make the first move.
For several moments, Rodney did nothing more than stare. John felt his husband’s eyes on him and flushed. He caught a glimpse of himself in the glass and saw that his own eyes looked much as Rodney’s did: swirled with lust, with longing.
Finally, Rodney stepped forward and pressed a hand to his cheek, running his thumb over the curves of his face, his lips. Staring at himself, at them both in the glass, John felt bold: a slight move to the side, and he was sucking Rodney’s thumb into his mouth. He was rewarded with a moan, with the digit sliding away with a pop and Rodney’s mouth pressing finally, finally, eagerly to his. They had no words to say to each other, just kiss after kiss, learning as they moved, this new landscape.
Eventually, as John had known he would have to, Rodney drew back. His fingers moved awkwardly on his belt, and John longed to twine their hands together, to help them toward their goal. But that was not his place. Instead, he watched, and waited, until Rodney finally had the robe undone, until it slid from his broad shoulders and pooled softly around his feet. John thought he saw a hint of nervousness beneath the swirling depths of Rodney’s eyes, but there was no need for it. He’d been waiting for this. He’d been waiting all his life for this.
Dropping to his knees on the thick blanket of woven rugs, he knew what he wanted. What he had to give. And the dizzying happiness of having want and need correspond: reaching out and running his hands up Rodney’s thick, hairy thighs. Rodney’s hand dropped down to his head, caressing the tops of his ears, and John arched into the touch like a great cat. His veil tumbled off his head and onto the floor.
Tentative hands, but assured in their wants, John took Rodney into his palm. Felt him rise, come alive, readying himself for his lips. Rodney’s fingers massaged his scalp, drawing him closer, and John felt his mouth open wide—wide—wider. Taking him in, his husband, welcoming his body into his own.
He slid slickly in and out of John’s lips, a slow steady rhythm, just like they had been taught. John knew vaguely of the other things Rodney had been taught, that he was to show him later on, and he felt himself rise as well, without any sort of touch at all. It concerned him, but not as much as the noises Rodney was making: soft and desperate. It needed to be saved, his completion. They both knew it, and both felt regret as they inevitably parted. John’s lips felt huge and swollen, his whole body plump and full like a ripe fruit. Rodney drew him back up to his feet and kissed him: honey and heat and sweetness, and something else, lingering.
Then Rodney’s hands were moving on John’s own belt, loosening it with much more skill. John held his breath as he felt the fabric fall, as he felt Rodney’s eyes on him for the first time. Felt any man’s eyes on him. His husband’s eyes.
They had no need for any words but kisses, but still Rodney whispered to him, laying him out across the bed, murmuring into his skin that he was like a flower, opening before him, opening. Spreading John’s legs, caressing the insides of his thighs; John felt an ache, a deep need and wanting. He’d never felt anything like it, never felt another pair of hands on him, and he wanted—Rodney’s hands, Rodney’s; yes, and that knowledge was enough to quiet the parts of him telling him that none of this was true. Because that was. He knew it.
And it should feel unreal, his wedding night. Rodney’s fingers, sliding over him, into him, parting him like a halved fruit, cleaving them together. And this must be what he had been shown, been taught: how to bring forth that feeling, deep inside—swirling sparks of pleasure, like the filmy whiteness whirling through Rodney’s eyes.
Cushions under and around him, and Rodney’s strong hands lifting his legs, pulling him up, pushing them together. Ache replacing ache, and then again: that sweet sensation, drawn out of him, like water sluiced from a well, sliding through his fingers, circling across Rodney’s back.
In and out, in and out, like the air moving through his lungs, hitching at the last, sweeping through them like a sigh as Rodney moved and spilled in him, kissed his mouth, kissed his mouth, drew it out of him like he drew breath.
He traced the patterns of wetness on his belly, divining. He wanted to read the symbol for forever, for lasting, but his eyes were cloudy, his vision unclear. Heavy, and Rodney’s solid weight at his side, the pattern of his breathing drawing John with him still. His husband. Yes. Yes. Eyes fluttering open and closed, and even as sleep took him, he thought: yes.
This night and the next. Forever. They were bound.
*************
mutecornett made gorgeous art for Realm of Dryads. See it here (NWS). If I were less afraid of my mother, I would print the first one out and hang it on my wall.20thcenturyvole wrote some wonderful comment fic here, including a terrific one for me, which is also probably indirectly responsible for what follows.Which is, well. I'm supposed to be writing an essay on why Ronald Reagan was a wanker, and while that's a topic I should be able to go off on at length, Kate Bush's "The Sensual World" came up on my iTunes a few times, and I kept getting...distracted.
Porn: 1, Essay: 0.
But, um. It's a win for you guys, right? I'll tell myself that.
Music for reading: The Sensual World - Kate Bush
And fic!
Title: The Sensual World
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Category: PWP
Length: ~1175 words
Summary: He took the kiss of seedcake back from his mouth.
The Sensual World
They rose from their crouch together, holding hands. There were other hands on them, leading them through the high-ceilinged hall and over to the banquet table, covered in white cloth. The banquet was not for them. They had their own banquet, waiting.
In front of the largest table, they drew to a halt. Rodney looked up at John with blue eyes, clouded. He broke the hold of their hands and John swayed, though he’d been expecting this, anticipating it, wanting it. Rodney reaching up: slowly, slowly, lifting the veil over John’s head. His hands slipped down as soon as he let the fabric drop. They gripped each other’s shoulders, weaving in place.
The priestess bowed her head, then cut loose the piece of seedcake. Rodney’s lips dropped open obligingly and she laid it on his tongue. John could already taste it, warm and earthy. And then he did, he did: leaning forward, taking the kiss of seedcake back from his mouth.
Honey-sweet, crumbling between their firm lips, in their warm mouths. Pulling back and seeing the clouds moving through Rodney’s eyes, white swirls of wanting. Then hands on their backs again, guiding them. Outside into the light: Teyla and Ronon were waiting, smiling broadly, blindly. Rose petals spilled from Teyla’s fingertips.
The world whirled past them, color and light and sound, and Rodney’s warm presence at his side, as they were guided through the square, amongst the cheers and the scattered flowers, the bells ringing out from the tower, ushering them on. When they reached their chambers, the villagers clapped and bade them farewell. John’s veil swirled behind him in the wind, catching petals like a spider’s web.
Inside, they turned to each other. John’s mouth felt dry. He could still taste honey and grain and Rodney’s lips, and he stared at them, wanting to taste them again. But it was not for him to make the first move.
For several moments, Rodney did nothing more than stare. John felt his husband’s eyes on him and flushed. He caught a glimpse of himself in the glass and saw that his own eyes looked much as Rodney’s did: swirled with lust, with longing.
Finally, Rodney stepped forward and pressed a hand to his cheek, running his thumb over the curves of his face, his lips. Staring at himself, at them both in the glass, John felt bold: a slight move to the side, and he was sucking Rodney’s thumb into his mouth. He was rewarded with a moan, with the digit sliding away with a pop and Rodney’s mouth pressing finally, finally, eagerly to his. They had no words to say to each other, just kiss after kiss, learning as they moved, this new landscape.
Eventually, as John had known he would have to, Rodney drew back. His fingers moved awkwardly on his belt, and John longed to twine their hands together, to help them toward their goal. But that was not his place. Instead, he watched, and waited, until Rodney finally had the robe undone, until it slid from his broad shoulders and pooled softly around his feet. John thought he saw a hint of nervousness beneath the swirling depths of Rodney’s eyes, but there was no need for it. He’d been waiting for this. He’d been waiting all his life for this.
Dropping to his knees on the thick blanket of woven rugs, he knew what he wanted. What he had to give. And the dizzying happiness of having want and need correspond: reaching out and running his hands up Rodney’s thick, hairy thighs. Rodney’s hand dropped down to his head, caressing the tops of his ears, and John arched into the touch like a great cat. His veil tumbled off his head and onto the floor.
Tentative hands, but assured in their wants, John took Rodney into his palm. Felt him rise, come alive, readying himself for his lips. Rodney’s fingers massaged his scalp, drawing him closer, and John felt his mouth open wide—wide—wider. Taking him in, his husband, welcoming his body into his own.
He slid slickly in and out of John’s lips, a slow steady rhythm, just like they had been taught. John knew vaguely of the other things Rodney had been taught, that he was to show him later on, and he felt himself rise as well, without any sort of touch at all. It concerned him, but not as much as the noises Rodney was making: soft and desperate. It needed to be saved, his completion. They both knew it, and both felt regret as they inevitably parted. John’s lips felt huge and swollen, his whole body plump and full like a ripe fruit. Rodney drew him back up to his feet and kissed him: honey and heat and sweetness, and something else, lingering.
Then Rodney’s hands were moving on John’s own belt, loosening it with much more skill. John held his breath as he felt the fabric fall, as he felt Rodney’s eyes on him for the first time. Felt any man’s eyes on him. His husband’s eyes.
They had no need for any words but kisses, but still Rodney whispered to him, laying him out across the bed, murmuring into his skin that he was like a flower, opening before him, opening. Spreading John’s legs, caressing the insides of his thighs; John felt an ache, a deep need and wanting. He’d never felt anything like it, never felt another pair of hands on him, and he wanted—Rodney’s hands, Rodney’s; yes, and that knowledge was enough to quiet the parts of him telling him that none of this was true. Because that was. He knew it.
And it should feel unreal, his wedding night. Rodney’s fingers, sliding over him, into him, parting him like a halved fruit, cleaving them together. And this must be what he had been shown, been taught: how to bring forth that feeling, deep inside—swirling sparks of pleasure, like the filmy whiteness whirling through Rodney’s eyes.
Cushions under and around him, and Rodney’s strong hands lifting his legs, pulling him up, pushing them together. Ache replacing ache, and then again: that sweet sensation, drawn out of him, like water sluiced from a well, sliding through his fingers, circling across Rodney’s back.
In and out, in and out, like the air moving through his lungs, hitching at the last, sweeping through them like a sigh as Rodney moved and spilled in him, kissed his mouth, kissed his mouth, drew it out of him like he drew breath.
He traced the patterns of wetness on his belly, divining. He wanted to read the symbol for forever, for lasting, but his eyes were cloudy, his vision unclear. Heavy, and Rodney’s solid weight at his side, the pattern of his breathing drawing John with him still. His husband. Yes. Yes. Eyes fluttering open and closed, and even as sleep took him, he thought: yes.
This night and the next. Forever. They were bound.
*************
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 03:10 pm (UTC)Part of me thinks: there is so much backstory here. Veil? Taught? Ronon and Teyla? What's just happened?
The rest of me thinks: I'll be in my bunk. *glassy eyes*
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 03:10 pm (UTC)It's as beautiful and sensual as I expect from you. You have such a lovely way with words.
...but weird. *g*
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 03:12 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 03:18 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 03:26 pm (UTC)But thank you, I'm glad you like it anyway.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 03:27 pm (UTC)*is also not here, but writing essay on Reagan*
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 03:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 03:30 pm (UTC)*is also not tapping away at fic, but is instead dissertation editing. yes*
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 03:35 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 03:44 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 03:48 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 03:50 pm (UTC)Yay,
Also, *pets your melty brain*
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 03:52 pm (UTC)Re: editing--*believes you utterly*
Also, I have 417 words now! Yay?
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 03:53 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 03:54 pm (UTC)*scrapes brain back into jar*
Right. Must take self to church, huzzah.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 04:00 pm (UTC)417 words is a good thing! Look at it this way - 20% of the total! You're practically finished.
I have to pop off now, because I'm meeting my mother and my uncle for dinner; but if you want to text me whenever tomorrow for the session where we are awesome people who edit one another's papers in an awesome manner, and also there is David Hewlett? I'm free all day, yadda yadda, and also there are no housemates around so I should get a good night's sleep. Hurrah.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 04:08 pm (UTC)(this is a compliment, BTW, that the barest hints of plot from you makes us yearn for more, shaking off the hormonal stupor of the lust-inducing PWP...)
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 04:15 pm (UTC)Plus, they got married so honestly, I'm happy.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 04:23 pm (UTC)Also, *taunts Reagan with teh gay sex*
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 04:46 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 04:52 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 05:13 pm (UTC)And in my head, it totally explains the veil. *g*
Awesomeness.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 05:14 pm (UTC)I would *love* to hear the backstory on this one. *hint hint*
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 05:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 05:44 pm (UTC)*scratches out own backstory*
*points* What SHE said!
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 06:03 pm (UTC)It's a good thing they didn't pick up a book on animal husbandry or something (I was going to write 'the big bang' but I thought that was just too much.) Is there a compulsory reading claus?
What's your backstory? I won't tell
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 06:34 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 06:48 pm (UTC)Yay! That one was kind of lucky, the bark texture actually echoes the fingers nicely. I only wanted to make one, but somewhere in the rules it says that if you do icons you have to make ten exactly, woe, so I made lots more. Some of them I'm quite pleased with, but there were a couple where I was all, fuck it, I need ten *is bad person* *g*.
Also: Am back from church and STILL NOT DEAD! Huzzah! (my first trip in my brother's brand new car, eep ;))
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 06:54 pm (UTC)Also, it's funny, but I'm also one of those people demanding backstory for the PWP. :P
Good luck with the essay! (The second or third??)
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 07:22 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 08:02 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 08:03 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 08:48 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 08:54 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-01 11:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-02 12:22 am (UTC)A proto-1950's (Pegasus Galaxy model) "save yourself for your husband" woman.
Scratch that -- I'm still not sure that's not what happened.
However, it was hot. With the vague drugginess and body worshipping and, apparently, Lessons. In Sex. For the Wedding Night.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-02 04:11 am (UTC)Somehow I went like a pendulum from "surely this is an AU" to "Aliens sipped them something and are making them do this".
Ronon and Teyla supported the AU theory (unless they're secretly really heavy-handed on the match-making)... So I join those who wish for more of this universe. I love the whole ritual feeling to it. (And in case aliens made them do it, how on earth will they explain to Elizabeth that she *missed* John in a *veil*?)
Thanks a lot!
Damn
Date: 2006-04-02 05:37 am (UTC)Heh.
Methinks you should skive off from working on your report (because any intelligent person already knows Reagan was a wanker *chuckle*) and write a followup to this: The Morning After. Heh. John in a veil. *snort* Did he wear virginal white? 'Cause if he did...
*falls over laughing hysterically*
And what... were Teyla and Ronon drugged as well? Aie.
Very, very hot. Yeah, I must also admit I'll... be in my bunk. Erm... yeah. ;)
----}-@
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-02 09:07 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-03 12:03 am (UTC)I haven't actually read this yet, but the coincidence is just too great to not mention.
I've been looking for The Sensual World on CD for the past two weeks!
I wanted to get it at Amazon, but they don't have it in stock and our local Best Buy doesn't have any copies. I'm still looking, but it's one of those thing, that the more you try to forget about a song, the more it gets stuck in your head.
Wish me luck on my continued hunt.
P.S.: Love your work, so I'm sure this is fab as well.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-03 01:01 am (UTC)You excel at the hot. Seriously, there should be some sort of award for this.
Also? This is definitely one of the best "aliens made them do it" fics I've seen in this fandom, or any other. Cheers.
Fanart for "The Sensual World "
Date: 2006-04-03 01:02 am (UTC)In my defense, I bear fanart inspired by this...
ronald reagan
Date: 2006-04-03 01:49 am (UTC)Re: ronald reagan
Date: 2006-04-03 01:49 am (UTC)don't forget the millions of people he killed by being too homophobic to deal with the aids crisis
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-03 07:50 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-03 12:24 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-03 03:06 pm (UTC)Yes, I did get the download and it's a very nice teaser to tide me over.
I actually had this on tape back when it was first released and completely wore it out, hence the search for the CD.
I'm sure I'll find it somewhere!
Thanks again, and as I thought, the story's gorgeous. Very appropriate to the song, i.e. lush.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-04-05 07:16 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-12-08 01:06 am (UTC)and that knowledge was enough to quiet the parts of him telling him that none of this was true. Because that was. He knew it.
That part totally does it for me. God, aliens made them do it, yes, the marriage and maybe even the sex, but John realizes that he wants this, this more than anything, and my heart kind of shatters a bit for him. I fear, in my mind, that Rodney might not want the same thing the following day, upon light and Atlantis and logic. And where would that leave John? *sniff* SEQUEL!!! *bows before you* Even if I don't get a sequel, amazing. Really.