rubygirl29: (Cam loves Lorne)
[personal profile] rubygirl29 posting in [community profile] non_mcsmooch
Title: Kiss the Boy
Author: rubygirl29
Pairing: Cam/Lorne
Genre: Slash
Rating: NC-17 for language and lip locks

Author’s Note: Written for non_mcsmooch Three Weeks for Dreamwidth

Friday Night: 2100 hours

Cam Mitchell was tired. Every inch of him ached; head, arms, back, legs, even his feet. It had been that kind of off-world op, cleaning up a nest of Lucian alliance rebels. Could they have set up the operation near the Stargate? Of course not. They had set up on the top of a freakin’ mountain. Cam had been worn out before the action, and playing mountain goat hadn’t improved his mood or his physical condition. But in the end, they had driven the rebels out of their stronghold and delivered them to the Jaffa High Council for trial

A hot shower and ibuprofen had smoothed some of the jagged edges of fatigue, but he was too tired to drive home, so he opted for quarters at Cheyenne Mountain. He stretched out on the bed, turned the TV to Mythbusters and opened a magazine.

He was just falling into a half-doze when the door opened. Vala stood there, wearing her leather, studs, and black lace mitts. She looked like a biker chick from Vogue.

Cam sighed and pushed himself upright. “Going hunting?” he asked.

“Of course not -- oh, you’re joking. Well, not that kind of hunting. Sam, Teal’c and I are going out and I thought you might like to come along.” She looked hopeful.

“Thanks, but no thanks. I’m beat.”

“Come on! Teal’c is like a hundred years old and he’s going.”

“Teal’c didn’t fall down a mountainside.” Cam closed his eyes. “Vala, go away.”

“Daniel is going. Did I mention that?”

“I hope you have a wonderful time.”

“You know, you’re turning into a bump on a log and a stick in the mud. You’re boring. Dull. I mean you aren’t even looking at porn! Aeronautics. What a turn-on.” She poked his shoulder. “You need to get out of here. One beer. That’s all. Please ...?” she wheedled.

Cam sighed and put his magazine away. “You aren’t going to leave me alone.”


“Where are we going?”

“A club. Leather and Lace. All the rage. Be there or be square. And wear those leather pants of yours. You’ll fit right in.” She winked at him and bounced away, pigtails swinging.

He got up and grumbled to her retreating back, “I’ll go, but I’m not wearing those pants.”
“I heard that.” She called over her shoulder, then skidded to a halt, an evil grin on her lips. She tapped her cheek thoughtfully. “Sam doesn’t know about those cookies you didn’t eat ... Just saying.”

“You wouldn’t ... Vala?”

She raised a brow. “Is that a dare?”

“Fine. Leather pants.”

She smiled brilliantly. “You won’t regret it.”

Cam rubbed his forehead. God, where was Lorne when he needed him?

Friday Night: 2200 hours

Evan Lorne was on Midway station finishing up the last hour of a twenty-four hour quarantine before gating back to Earth. He had a flash drive with mission reports and a piece of Ancient tech that Rodney felt was right up Dr. Lee’s alley. Lorne and his ATA gene were needed for some research. He was hoping this wouldn’t take the entire week, and he was hoping that Cam would be at SGC for at least a day or two.

He watched the end of a totally forgettable action flick and then finally, finally, got the go-ahead to gate back to SGC. After handing over the device to Lee and dropping off the flash drive at Landry’s office, he started towards the locker room.

“Major Lorne?” Daniel Jackson came out of his office. Lorne blinked. Jackson was wearing leather pants and a tight black tee-shirt. He looked hot and Evan felt like he had gated into an alternate universe.

“Umm ... what’s going on?”


Lorne gave him a look. “Leather?”

“Oh. Vala. Club. You should come with us.”

“I’m not so good at being a fifth wheel.”

“It’s not a date,” Daniel explained patiently. “Teal’c is curious. Cam, Sam, Vala and I are going to keep him company. Research.”

“Right.” Lorne sounded as skeptical as he looked. But Cam would be there, and that was what he’d hoped for all along. He glanced down at his USAF fatigues. “Give me time to change?”

“Sure. I’ll be up ...” He gestured towards the upper levels. “See you there.”


Friday Night 2200 hours

The bar wasn’t Cam’s idea of a place to kick back and relax. Too much noise, too many bodies, a sensory overload of pheromones that made his head ache with the awareness of sex. He sat at a table overlooking the dance floor, having successfully resisted Sam’s attempt to get him moving. She was dancing with Teal’c, the light playing off her bright hair and Teal’c gleaming muscles. Vala and Daniel actually seemed to be enjoying themselves; bickering put aside in favor of movement and music without further expectations.

Cam was starting to feel a bit lonely. He got up from the table and made his way through the press of bodies waiting at the bar. As he got closer, his eye was caught by a man in black jeans and a dark blue t-shirt. Nice ass, he thought, admiring the view and the play of muscles beneath the fitted shirt. The man’s thick dark hair was cut short and spiked up with gel, and a diamond stud glinted on his earlobe. Cam stared at the plane of cheekbone and brow that was unmistakeably familiar ... Lorne?

He jostled his way through to the bar, no apologies. “Hey, flyboy. Come here often?”

No eye contact, just a deepening crease in a cheek. “Not often enough, I guess. Seems like a good place for a pick-up.”

Cam slid his arm around Lorne’s waist. “Consider this a pick-up,” he whispered into Lorne’s ear. “Let’s get out of here before anybody sees us.”

“Too late. I came with Jackson.”

“You think he’s going to say anything?” Cam nuzzled Lorne’s neck. “God, you smell good.”

“Now, that’s a pick-up line.”

Cam grabbed Evan’s belt and pulled him toward the exit. They pushed out into the alley that ran between the club and the building next door. It was dark but for a single caged bulb, and nearly deserted. Cam braced himself on the bricks with Lorne between his arms. “What’s with the earring?” He nipped at the lobe. “Hot.”

“Undercover assignment.” Lorne sounded a little breathless and he let Cam tug him further into the shadows.

They were in a slightly recessed bay that had once been the entrance to the club and was now bricked in. The stone was cool between his shoulder blades and Cam’s body was warm and hard. Lorne slid his palms down Cam’s lean ribs and cupped his ass.

“Leather?” he queried, one brow slanted.

“I’m incognito.”

“Gee, that didn’t work out so well,” Lorne grinned.

The leather was supple and heated, Cam’s ass was firm and filled Lorne’s hands. He ground his pelvis against Cam’s, and loved the rough sound he made as their sexes pressed together. His right hand slipped under the black tee shirt and Cam’s breathing became a bit erratic at the touch of skin against skin.

It was awkward, pressed into the shadows and not wanting to lose contact with Cam’s body. His first kiss landed at the corner of Cam’s mouth. He felt, more than heard, Cam’s soft chuckle. He whispered, “Shut the fuck up and kiss me.”

Cam did, sweeping his tongue across the line of Lorne’s lips, finding entrance and then
indulging in a long, deep, leisurely exploration of his mouth. Evan tasted like beer and mint, like honey and sex. His body smelled clean and rich with musk. He felt the hitch in Evan’s breathing, the break in his knees, and he smiled and pulled back.

“Let’s get out of here,” Cam said. To his annoyance, his voice was shaking.

“What about the others?” Lorne asked.

“They know the way home.”

Arms wrapped around each other, they went around the corner to the front entrance and hailed a cab to take them to Cam’s condo. The driver, a young black woman, smiled when they got in. “How’s the club?”

“Hot. Crowded. Noisy.”

“Nice and quiet in here,” she said. “You go right ahead and relax and I’ll get you home.” She winked and Lorne laughed and settled against Cam.

“I think we’re in good hands,” he said. “So, shut up and kiss me again.”

“I could argue with that,” Cam said.

“Mitchell ... ” Evan nipped at Cam’s lower lip, tugging softly, making speech much more difficult. “You talk too much.”

“Me?” Can squeaked.

The driver looked over her shoulder. “Sugar, he’s right. You talk too much. Kiss the boy, already.”

Two against one. Cam knew when to surrender.

The End
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Non_McSmooch: For your *other* SGA kissing needs

December 2010


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