Team Tesla (R)
Apr. 19th, 2011 01:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skidmo_ficTitle: Team Tesla
Rating: R
Pairing: Lorne/Tesla, mentions of Lorne/Parrish
Word Count: 2222
Warnings: sex, mild BDSM, vampirism?
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me...sadly
Feedback: yes, please.
Summary: Lorne hadn’t ever expected to see him again. Follow-up to The Comedy of Errors
A/N: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
clwilson2006 for the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
help_nz auction. She wanted a little Lorne/Tesla smut. So sorry for its lateness.
Lorne hadn’t ever expected to see him again. It was a one off. A one off in a city he almost never visited.
Not that he hadn’t thought about it.
Not that he hadn’t sometimes wished that David would break out of that nervous, coltish behavior and just...dominate him.
Not that he hadn’t, once or twice, on those rare occasions David was actually aggressive, very nearly called him Nik.
But he wasn’t actually expecting there to be a repeat performance.
He was in Colorado Springs on one of those mandatory shore leave trips that really just meant the IOA was sticking its nose in Atlantis’s business and worrying that Sheppard was overstepping his bounds (again). A night off Earth-side hardly made up for an entire day’s worth of, “Wouldn’t it have been better if...?” and, “Don’t you think it’s more appropriate to...?” and, “Isn’t the proper procedure...?” and Lorne biting his tongue and keeping his temper in check and answering, “Yes, sir. No, sir. With all due respect, sir...”
Besides which, interviews meant dress blues, and going out in dress blues in Colorado Springs meant military groupies.
So when the tall, slim man in the dark suit slipped onto the stool next to him at the bar and slid a pint over to him, his instinctual reply of, “Not interested, thanks,” was cut off when he noticed the beer was his favorite and the slim, elegant fingers around the glass looked just a bit too familiar.
“Not even for old time’s sake?” came the reply in those crisp, precise consonants.
Lorne glanced up into the face he hadn’t expected to see ever again except reflected in the far too similar one back home and smiled. “How do I rate a pint over everyone else in here?”
“Like I said, I do love a man in uniform,” Nik answered, those long fingers sliding discretely under Lorne’s lapels before being withdrawn.
Lorne looked around the room pointedly, and Nik laughed. “Yes, but I already know you’re worth the effort.”
That drew a blush from Lorne, and he sipped his beer to compose himself. “What brings you out to Colorado?”
“I used to live here, once upon a time. I suppose you could say I’m here for nostalgic purposes.”
Lorne nodded, sipping his beer again, glancing around the room a bit nervously. It was one thing doing this out of uniform in Boston. It was another thing to be sitting five miles from Cheyenne Mountain, surrounded by airmen and marines, being felt up by a guy who looked suspiciously like his botanist teammate.
Nik seemed to notice his hesitance, and Lorne felt something dropped into the breast pocket of his jacket as the taller man smiled at him. “Ten o’clock, Major. Don’t be late.”
He raised his wine glass in Lorne’s direction with a smirk and finished it off before turning to go.
***
He almost didn’t show up.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. After the last time, how could he not want to?
But this felt less like a nameless encounter. It felt less like a one-night stand with a guy who happened to remind him of Atlantis.
He wasn’t sure what it did feel like, but it didn’t feel like that.
It didn’t help that what Nik had dropped in his pocket wasn’t a keycard to a hotel room as he’d expected. It was a house key with an address attached.
A one-night stand in a hotel was one thing, going to some guy’s house was somehow more.
It took Lorne half an hour to get to the address on the note, and when he got there he was sure it must be the wrong place. It was miles outside the city and enormous. Big enough that Lorne thought he could probably get lost in it without too much effort.
He parked his rental car at the end of the long drive and cautiously made his way up the steps. He thought about ringing the doorbell, but why would Nik have given him a key if he hadn’t meant for Lorne to come straight in?
Inside, the house was decorated like something out of a Sherlock Holmes story, and Lorne spent a few minutes just gawking at the opulence before he noticed a note scrawled onto a scrap of paper left on the hall table.
It just read: Up the stairs, third on the left. -NT
This was starting to feel less and less like Sherlock Holmes and more and more like some over-the-top, gothic romance. From the bit of literature he’d studied in college, Lorne got the impression he’d be knocked unconscious any second now and come to tied up in the bedroom of some mysterious, brooding lord of the manor.
He tried to ignore the shiver of pleasure that ran down his spine at the thought.
The room upstairs was at least not too far out of the norm. It was decorated like the rest of the house in the Victorian style, dark woods and draperies, four-poster bed, but at least there weren’t torture implements on the walls and chains hanging from the ceiling.
As he took a hesitant step inside, his hand moved instinctively to his thigh for the sidearm that wasn’t there. From his right, a voice came out of the shadows, making him jump slightly.
“You’ve got ten seconds to get your shoes off and get onto the bed, Major.”
At his immediate compliance, there was a chuckle and a soft, “God bless the military. So good at taking orders.”
He was fairly certain he’d made it in time, but it wasn’t until he heard, “Two seconds to spare. Very good, Major,” that he let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
Nik finally stepped out of the shadows, and Lorne allowed himself a moment to look the other man over. In the months since he’d last seen Nik, Lorne had become intimately familiar with his doppelganger’s body, but there were still differences that he couldn’t help noting. The way Nik carried himself, the style of his hair, the slightly too-thin appearance. (David was slender, incredibly so, but Lorne never worried he wasn’t eating enough.)
What happened next drew Lorne forcibly back into gothic romance territory. Nik moved like something out of a horror film. One smooth blur, and he was on top of Lorne, that slim body light enough that Lorne’s first instinct to push him off almost worked, but before he had the chance to do much more than sit up, Nik had his wrists pinned to the bed.
“Leaving so soon, Major? And here I thought you’d enjoyed our last encounter.”
“What the fuck are you?” Lorne growled, not in the mood to be toyed with, wanting answers, even if his body was telling him to relax, to take this, recalling images and sensations of that encounter.
There was another blur of motion, and Lorne found his wrists constrained by his tie and Nik’s, his arms stretched above him just as they’d been the last time, a repetition that brought a low groan to his lips. “How did you...?”
“Didn’t I tell you, Major?” Nik smirked, that predatory gleam that had made Lorne submit sending an almost violent shiver down his spine. “But I suppose we were otherwise occupied the last time we met.” He leaned low, lips brushing over Lorne’s ear. “I’m a vampire.”
If Lorne didn’t fight aliens for a living, he’d think Nik were crazy. Some psycho who had a thing for blood and liked to play Dracula. But it made sense, when he thought about it. The unusual strength, the too-cool skin, that fluid, impossibly fast movement.
And now those black and blood-red eyes, and the way Nik’s voice rumbled in his chest, vibrating across Lorne’s skin as he said. “Don’t worry, Major. I only take virgin blood.” He laughed, then, like it was a joke Lorne didn’t get.
“What do you want with me?” Lorne asked tentatively, trying to keep that quaver out of his voice. He faced Wraith on a near daily basis. He should not be freaking out over this. (Of course, those Wraith didn’t usually have him strapped down and undeniably aroused, but that idea wasn’t really helping him channel Sheppard right now.)
“Nothing you don’t want yourself,” Nik says, that deep, deep voice about as far from soothing as it could be.
“Don’t kid yourself, Spike,” Lorne managed, cursing himself when he groaned as Nik shifted, his ass rubbing purposefully over Lorne’s tell-tale hard on.
“Oh, Major, even if I couldn’t feel that, I can still smell it. You reek of lust. Your body won’t let you forget how much you enjoy this. Why don’t you just relax, so we can get to the fun stuff?”
They taught you two things in the SGC about aliens. One, you couldn’t trust them. Two, you couldn’t judge them either.
Just because it looked different, smelled different, spoke different, just because it ate different foods, just because it loved different or fucked different, that didn’t mean it was bad.
Okay, so lesson number two pretty much came exclusively from Dr. Jackson, but it had come in handy for Lorne on more than one occasion.
And it was coming in handy now. He wanted to let go. He wanted to get back to that night in Boston when Nik had completely shattered his mind, done things no one else had done and made him feel like he’d never felt before. He was scared as fuck, but there was no use hiding that. (If Nik could smell his lust, what was to stop him from smelling Lorne’s fear as well?)
So he drew on the bravado he’d learned from people like Sheppard and O’Neill, and grinned up into that face that no longer resembled David, pushing his hips up, purposefully grinding his erection against the vampire (if he really was a vampire), and said, “Come on, then. Let’s see what you’ve got for me.”
“Good boy, Major,” came the rumbling reply, and before Lorne had a chance to second guess himself, Nik had his shirt torn open, and Lorne didn’t even think to complain about how that was going to come out of his paycheck, and he didn’t stop to wonder how he was going to explain what had happened to it. Nik’s mouth and hands were moving over him, and that spark was back, that electrical slide of skin on skin that he’d never been able to replicate with David.
“That...that a vampire thing?” he stammered, and Nik laughed, nipping at his chest, leaving a red mark.
“That’s a Nikola Tesla thing,” he answered, and Lorne couldn’t think enough to ponder out what that meant because Nik was all but tearing Lorne’s trousers off and settling between Lorne’s legs, pulling his ass up over his thighs, and Lorne didn’t remember Nik removing his clothes or even unzipping his pants, but he was pushing into Lorne, and Lorne was growling right back at him, growling back at the vampire, at the vampire who was fucking him, and he forgot to be scared or nervous, forgot to tell himself how stupid he was, how fucking insane he must be to let this guy fuck him like this, because he was on leave, and this was the only time he could let himself go like this, the only time he could let himself be something other than Sheppard’s XO, the guy who always had it together, who cleaned up Sheppard’s messes, who did the paperwork on time and never let a salute slide to someone who cared about that shit.
And then he was coming, hard enough that his vision whited out, and he could still feel Nik pounding into him, and he couldn’t tell if the sparks behind his eyelids were the metaphorical kind or whatever that Tesla shit was all about, and he thought it was over, but Nik just kept going, and it was a blur like the blur of Nik moving, tying him down, and Lorne was coming again, screaming this time at the unexpected force of it, and the idle thought flitted through his mind that he was glad Nik’s place was so far from town, so far from Cheyenne Mountain, so far from Atlantis, because he almost thought they could hear him all the way out there, and then he didn’t think much of anything except that vampires are awesome, and why the hell are people so afraid of them, anyway.
***
By the time he left the next day, dragged himself away from Nik because he absolutely had to be back at the mountain to board the Daedelus back to Atlantis, every inch of him was sore and protesting every step he took, but he was more relaxed than he’d been in months, and he thought he might have a few new ideas to try on David when he went back.
He still wasn’t sure he believed that whole vampire thing, but his lips tingled from Nik’s parting kiss, and he thought to himself that if he ever had a one-night stand like that again, he might give up this whole alien-fighting business to hunt for some vampires.
fin
Rating: R
Pairing: Lorne/Tesla, mentions of Lorne/Parrish
Word Count: 2222
Warnings: sex, mild BDSM, vampirism?
Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me...sadly
Feedback: yes, please.
Summary: Lorne hadn’t ever expected to see him again. Follow-up to The Comedy of Errors
A/N: Written for
clwilson2006 for the help_nz auction. She wanted a little Lorne/Tesla smut. So sorry for its lateness.Lorne hadn’t ever expected to see him again. It was a one off. A one off in a city he almost never visited.
Not that he hadn’t thought about it.
Not that he hadn’t sometimes wished that David would break out of that nervous, coltish behavior and just...dominate him.
Not that he hadn’t, once or twice, on those rare occasions David was actually aggressive, very nearly called him Nik.
But he wasn’t actually expecting there to be a repeat performance.
He was in Colorado Springs on one of those mandatory shore leave trips that really just meant the IOA was sticking its nose in Atlantis’s business and worrying that Sheppard was overstepping his bounds (again). A night off Earth-side hardly made up for an entire day’s worth of, “Wouldn’t it have been better if...?” and, “Don’t you think it’s more appropriate to...?” and, “Isn’t the proper procedure...?” and Lorne biting his tongue and keeping his temper in check and answering, “Yes, sir. No, sir. With all due respect, sir...”
Besides which, interviews meant dress blues, and going out in dress blues in Colorado Springs meant military groupies.
So when the tall, slim man in the dark suit slipped onto the stool next to him at the bar and slid a pint over to him, his instinctual reply of, “Not interested, thanks,” was cut off when he noticed the beer was his favorite and the slim, elegant fingers around the glass looked just a bit too familiar.
“Not even for old time’s sake?” came the reply in those crisp, precise consonants.
Lorne glanced up into the face he hadn’t expected to see ever again except reflected in the far too similar one back home and smiled. “How do I rate a pint over everyone else in here?”
“Like I said, I do love a man in uniform,” Nik answered, those long fingers sliding discretely under Lorne’s lapels before being withdrawn.
Lorne looked around the room pointedly, and Nik laughed. “Yes, but I already know you’re worth the effort.”
That drew a blush from Lorne, and he sipped his beer to compose himself. “What brings you out to Colorado?”
“I used to live here, once upon a time. I suppose you could say I’m here for nostalgic purposes.”
Lorne nodded, sipping his beer again, glancing around the room a bit nervously. It was one thing doing this out of uniform in Boston. It was another thing to be sitting five miles from Cheyenne Mountain, surrounded by airmen and marines, being felt up by a guy who looked suspiciously like his botanist teammate.
Nik seemed to notice his hesitance, and Lorne felt something dropped into the breast pocket of his jacket as the taller man smiled at him. “Ten o’clock, Major. Don’t be late.”
He raised his wine glass in Lorne’s direction with a smirk and finished it off before turning to go.
***
He almost didn’t show up.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. After the last time, how could he not want to?
But this felt less like a nameless encounter. It felt less like a one-night stand with a guy who happened to remind him of Atlantis.
He wasn’t sure what it did feel like, but it didn’t feel like that.
It didn’t help that what Nik had dropped in his pocket wasn’t a keycard to a hotel room as he’d expected. It was a house key with an address attached.
A one-night stand in a hotel was one thing, going to some guy’s house was somehow more.
It took Lorne half an hour to get to the address on the note, and when he got there he was sure it must be the wrong place. It was miles outside the city and enormous. Big enough that Lorne thought he could probably get lost in it without too much effort.
He parked his rental car at the end of the long drive and cautiously made his way up the steps. He thought about ringing the doorbell, but why would Nik have given him a key if he hadn’t meant for Lorne to come straight in?
Inside, the house was decorated like something out of a Sherlock Holmes story, and Lorne spent a few minutes just gawking at the opulence before he noticed a note scrawled onto a scrap of paper left on the hall table.
It just read: Up the stairs, third on the left. -NT
This was starting to feel less and less like Sherlock Holmes and more and more like some over-the-top, gothic romance. From the bit of literature he’d studied in college, Lorne got the impression he’d be knocked unconscious any second now and come to tied up in the bedroom of some mysterious, brooding lord of the manor.
He tried to ignore the shiver of pleasure that ran down his spine at the thought.
The room upstairs was at least not too far out of the norm. It was decorated like the rest of the house in the Victorian style, dark woods and draperies, four-poster bed, but at least there weren’t torture implements on the walls and chains hanging from the ceiling.
As he took a hesitant step inside, his hand moved instinctively to his thigh for the sidearm that wasn’t there. From his right, a voice came out of the shadows, making him jump slightly.
“You’ve got ten seconds to get your shoes off and get onto the bed, Major.”
At his immediate compliance, there was a chuckle and a soft, “God bless the military. So good at taking orders.”
He was fairly certain he’d made it in time, but it wasn’t until he heard, “Two seconds to spare. Very good, Major,” that he let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
Nik finally stepped out of the shadows, and Lorne allowed himself a moment to look the other man over. In the months since he’d last seen Nik, Lorne had become intimately familiar with his doppelganger’s body, but there were still differences that he couldn’t help noting. The way Nik carried himself, the style of his hair, the slightly too-thin appearance. (David was slender, incredibly so, but Lorne never worried he wasn’t eating enough.)
What happened next drew Lorne forcibly back into gothic romance territory. Nik moved like something out of a horror film. One smooth blur, and he was on top of Lorne, that slim body light enough that Lorne’s first instinct to push him off almost worked, but before he had the chance to do much more than sit up, Nik had his wrists pinned to the bed.
“Leaving so soon, Major? And here I thought you’d enjoyed our last encounter.”
“What the fuck are you?” Lorne growled, not in the mood to be toyed with, wanting answers, even if his body was telling him to relax, to take this, recalling images and sensations of that encounter.
There was another blur of motion, and Lorne found his wrists constrained by his tie and Nik’s, his arms stretched above him just as they’d been the last time, a repetition that brought a low groan to his lips. “How did you...?”
“Didn’t I tell you, Major?” Nik smirked, that predatory gleam that had made Lorne submit sending an almost violent shiver down his spine. “But I suppose we were otherwise occupied the last time we met.” He leaned low, lips brushing over Lorne’s ear. “I’m a vampire.”
If Lorne didn’t fight aliens for a living, he’d think Nik were crazy. Some psycho who had a thing for blood and liked to play Dracula. But it made sense, when he thought about it. The unusual strength, the too-cool skin, that fluid, impossibly fast movement.
And now those black and blood-red eyes, and the way Nik’s voice rumbled in his chest, vibrating across Lorne’s skin as he said. “Don’t worry, Major. I only take virgin blood.” He laughed, then, like it was a joke Lorne didn’t get.
“What do you want with me?” Lorne asked tentatively, trying to keep that quaver out of his voice. He faced Wraith on a near daily basis. He should not be freaking out over this. (Of course, those Wraith didn’t usually have him strapped down and undeniably aroused, but that idea wasn’t really helping him channel Sheppard right now.)
“Nothing you don’t want yourself,” Nik says, that deep, deep voice about as far from soothing as it could be.
“Don’t kid yourself, Spike,” Lorne managed, cursing himself when he groaned as Nik shifted, his ass rubbing purposefully over Lorne’s tell-tale hard on.
“Oh, Major, even if I couldn’t feel that, I can still smell it. You reek of lust. Your body won’t let you forget how much you enjoy this. Why don’t you just relax, so we can get to the fun stuff?”
They taught you two things in the SGC about aliens. One, you couldn’t trust them. Two, you couldn’t judge them either.
Just because it looked different, smelled different, spoke different, just because it ate different foods, just because it loved different or fucked different, that didn’t mean it was bad.
Okay, so lesson number two pretty much came exclusively from Dr. Jackson, but it had come in handy for Lorne on more than one occasion.
And it was coming in handy now. He wanted to let go. He wanted to get back to that night in Boston when Nik had completely shattered his mind, done things no one else had done and made him feel like he’d never felt before. He was scared as fuck, but there was no use hiding that. (If Nik could smell his lust, what was to stop him from smelling Lorne’s fear as well?)
So he drew on the bravado he’d learned from people like Sheppard and O’Neill, and grinned up into that face that no longer resembled David, pushing his hips up, purposefully grinding his erection against the vampire (if he really was a vampire), and said, “Come on, then. Let’s see what you’ve got for me.”
“Good boy, Major,” came the rumbling reply, and before Lorne had a chance to second guess himself, Nik had his shirt torn open, and Lorne didn’t even think to complain about how that was going to come out of his paycheck, and he didn’t stop to wonder how he was going to explain what had happened to it. Nik’s mouth and hands were moving over him, and that spark was back, that electrical slide of skin on skin that he’d never been able to replicate with David.
“That...that a vampire thing?” he stammered, and Nik laughed, nipping at his chest, leaving a red mark.
“That’s a Nikola Tesla thing,” he answered, and Lorne couldn’t think enough to ponder out what that meant because Nik was all but tearing Lorne’s trousers off and settling between Lorne’s legs, pulling his ass up over his thighs, and Lorne didn’t remember Nik removing his clothes or even unzipping his pants, but he was pushing into Lorne, and Lorne was growling right back at him, growling back at the vampire, at the vampire who was fucking him, and he forgot to be scared or nervous, forgot to tell himself how stupid he was, how fucking insane he must be to let this guy fuck him like this, because he was on leave, and this was the only time he could let himself go like this, the only time he could let himself be something other than Sheppard’s XO, the guy who always had it together, who cleaned up Sheppard’s messes, who did the paperwork on time and never let a salute slide to someone who cared about that shit.
And then he was coming, hard enough that his vision whited out, and he could still feel Nik pounding into him, and he couldn’t tell if the sparks behind his eyelids were the metaphorical kind or whatever that Tesla shit was all about, and he thought it was over, but Nik just kept going, and it was a blur like the blur of Nik moving, tying him down, and Lorne was coming again, screaming this time at the unexpected force of it, and the idle thought flitted through his mind that he was glad Nik’s place was so far from town, so far from Cheyenne Mountain, so far from Atlantis, because he almost thought they could hear him all the way out there, and then he didn’t think much of anything except that vampires are awesome, and why the hell are people so afraid of them, anyway.
***
By the time he left the next day, dragged himself away from Nik because he absolutely had to be back at the mountain to board the Daedelus back to Atlantis, every inch of him was sore and protesting every step he took, but he was more relaxed than he’d been in months, and he thought he might have a few new ideas to try on David when he went back.
He still wasn’t sure he believed that whole vampire thing, but his lips tingled from Nik’s parting kiss, and he thought to himself that if he ever had a one-night stand like that again, he might give up this whole alien-fighting business to hunt for some vampires.
fin
