Title: Contradictions
Rating: NC-17 (Or 17+, if you have issues with the old rating system.)
Category: Rodney/Cadman/Carson smut with a side of angst.
Summary: Rodney is a stud. Sex ensues. (I suck at summaries. Basically,
it’s a short bit of OT3 porn.)
Author’s Note: It seems that I have fallen into the habit of blaming
control_freak80 for everything—this included. It’s actually an old piece that I
wrote for something else, but realized worked disturbingly well for this rather
odd threesome with only a few well-placed tweaks. So, here it is: my first OT3
piece. I feel like I should do a “Hail Mary” prayer or something. And I’m not
even Catholic.
--
He’s not
sure how it started, where the progression from three coworkers (friends, even)
sitting in a lab jumped tracks and slipped into the seduction of skin sliding
against skin. All he knows is that now two pairs of hands grasp at him, two
sets of lips traverse his body, and he’s never been this out of his mind and
this sane at the same time.
Rodney
doesn’t want to waste time thinking, not when Cadman’s long blonde locks are
dragging across his chest as her mouth moves down his neck, not while
The
voice in his head has gone silent, no berating remarks and scathing self-doubt,
so for once Rodney is left on his own to process it all. He doesn’t get further
than trying to register the feeling
of it; how his senses are swamped up in the chill of the tile on the floor and
the warmth of skin surrounding him, how Cadman tastes in that spot just under
her belly button, the sound of Carson gasping for air as Rodney’s own mouth
closes around the other man’s cock.
He never
once thought he’d find himself in this position, but in this insane moment, he
doesn’t bother to question why it doesn’t feel wrong. He will
later, he knows that—he’ll tear all of this apart and analyze it so much that
it will stop making sense even in his own memory, become nothing more than
fractured images of camaraderie that morphed into sexuality when he wasn’t
paying attention. For now, though, just for once, his scientific mind puts its
need to know the whys of things on hold, just enjoying the feeling of Carson’s
hands tangled in his hair and the heat of Cadman as he somehow manages to slip
his fingers inside of her (a place he had only previously dared to dream about
when he was alone in the shower).
The
other man is close now, gasping and desperate and gloriously unashamed, any
inhibitions now disappearing in the overwhelming need for release, in the need
for him. When he finally breaks, body bowing and a sound escaping his
mouth that’s somewhere between a groan and a whimper, Rodney isn’t disgusted or
shocked. In fact, the only emotions he can find inside himself at that crucial
moment are overwhelming pride and something that he doesn’t quite recognize,
but he suspects might be joy. He did that, he made the man he called his friend
so incoherent that he even stopped calling for God and thought only of the now,
and there’s a power and satisfaction in that.
Images
blur together, sensations run one into the other in a rushing tide. Cadman is
still striving and desperate and since they shared both a body and a fate, Rodney’s
known that he’d never be able to deny her anything, not one snarky comment or
offer of help and certainly not this, so he moves his fingers a little harder,
a little faster. Carson, who seems to be slowly recovering, manages to move a
hand to the lower portion of her back, pushing and caressing the skin there
because somehow both men instinctively know it will drive her mad.
It does
and before Rodney can register much of anything but a flurry of efficient,
military-trained movement, he’s inside of her, white light washing out his
senses at the heat now surrounding him. Despite every claim he’s ever made to
the contrary, every time he’s teased her or yelled at her since the incident,
he knows now that this is what he’s always wanted, always needed on some
level. He just didn’t expect it to be quite like this—finding out that being
inside of her while she gasps and pleads is only half of it is more than a
little disconcerting. Nevertheless, it’s the fact that he’s being kissed by
As he pushes
forward desperately, he stops distinguishing them in his mind. Both sets of
hands are driving him mad, both mouths make him want to scream, to do anything
just so long as they promise not to stop. He’s inside of Cadman and Carson’s
fingers are where they are joined, making her whimper and thrash and finally
come with a wail because it’s too good to be kept inside. Rodney knows he’s not
far behind and the sight of them both has stopped processing, it’s just all
them surrounding him and against him and making the world stop as he finally, finally
lets it all go in a rush of heat, light, and sound that makes even the confines
of his own body stop existing.
It seems
like forever before things around him start to be recognizable again, before he
can distinguish one sense from another. He is content for a moment, just
the single one that he allows himself to relish before beginning to tear it all
down. In that one moment of clarity, he sees how the three of them pretending
to work late turned into this—because Cadman was seated between the two of them
humming something teasing and playful and somehow Carson’s hand had been
playing in the hair at the nape of Rodney’s neck (he wasn’t sure why or how) and
of course it had all led to this because this was how it should
be.
Even
later, well after the fear and confusion and the paralyzing effects of angst
and self-importance have settled in and they’ve all parted ways because they’re
not sure how to look each other in the eyes anymore without it becoming a
repeat performance, he’ll remember that one moment where it all seemed simple,
that one moment where the heat of their skin was pressed up against his own and
that alone made the rest of the world insignificant. And it’s only then that
his genius brain begins to understand that the words simple and complicated
aren’t the contradictions everyone would have you believe.