fic: 'leather' for 50 smutlets, parrish/lorne
Title: Dangerous Territory
Pairing: Parrish/Lorne
Rating: R
Notes: for 50_smutlets prompt #20, 'leather'. Thanks as usual to nudaydreamer.
Summary: Lorne gets distracted.


"Make sure your team members are all in shape," Sheppard instructed them in the officer meeting, and Lorne nodded in support because it was a good idea and figured, easy, because he had two Marines who were definitely already in shape, and one Doctor Parrish who was very agreeable about training suggestions.

But that was before he realized he'd be expected to give Parrish shooting lessons, before he'd shown up at their indoor firing range and seen Parrish, all sweaty and mussed from his run with Lieutenant Cadman, bending over to tie his shoes, wiggling a little bit as he hummed some song to himself, before he'd realized that Parrish had an exceptionally cute little ass which was shown to full advantage in the new uniform pants they'd all been issued.

Parrish caught him staring and flushed, murmuring apologies about his singing voice, which Lorne shrugged off. He probably could have gotten past the whole incident if he hadn't had to correct Parrish's stance with some hands-on instruction, which had put him way too close to the man. He smelled of outdoors and exercise, a combination of plants from the botany labs and the leather of his uniform, and Lorne felt a bit light-headed suddenly.

Over the next couple days he tried very, very hard to get the image of Parrish, bent over, maybe this time sans leather uniform, out of his head, but he couldn't; the more he thought about it, the more he pictured other things too, like maybe some kissing, and some touching, and once a blowjob, which he tried to justify as his brain taking a well-deserved and much-needed break. Except it wasn't that; he knew he was skirting dangerous territory, but there wasn't anything he could do about it.

Parrish caught him staring, of course. He managed to successfully deny it the first couple times, covering it up with references to the girl behind him, or saying that he had a spot of food on his face (and that embarrassed him, but so what if he did? Mostly, looking at food on Parrish's face made him want to lick it off, and that made him want to kiss him, maybe some little biting kisses, or maybe some long lush kisses, warm and wet and see, this was why he stared), or that maybe there was a small rip in his uniform (and didn't Lorne just want to stick his finger in the gap and rip his uniform off completely, and push him up against the wall, and just...).

But then, he'd never been very good at lying. And when Parrish called him on it, he couldn't do more than stammer out a couple words towards an apology before Parrish's face clouded over and he stalked off, which was when Lorne knew he had it bad, because Parrish stalking in his leather uniform made interesting things happen in Lorne's pants. He should have been thinking about something else entirely, like what he was going to do if Parrish was actually mad at him, but he couldn't shake the thought of how hot it would be if Parrish stalked around naked, maybe with the intent of pushing Lorne up against the wall.

Parrish refused to talk to him the next couple of days, resulting in a very awkward mission, after which Sheppard called Lorne to his office in a very official manner.

"You and Parrish aren't getting along," Sheppard said flatly, tapping his fingers on the stack of papers on his desk. Lorne thought briefly about what to say, whether he could deny it or not, but he gave up at the end, because he couldn't say anything. For some reason, Parrish had noticed him staring and gotten offended, and he couldn't explain why he was staring without breaking rules, and he didn't have anything else to say.

"No, sir," he finally said, stiffly, because he hated admitting to weaknesses.

"We got a report back from the officials on P3X-989," Sheppard said. "They asked that if we were going to send emissaries, we send some who were interested in talking to them, and not avoiding each other." He looked at Lorne and sighed, and Lorne frowned internally. If the normally lax Sheppard was upset, they were all doomed. "You need to do whatever you have to do to repair this, or we'll have to break up the team, maybe take disciplinary action," he said finally.

"Sir," Lorne said, surprised.

"Today, Major," Sheppard said.

"Yes, sir," Lorne said, spinning to leave and find Parrish. He would rather have avoided the confrontation altogether, because he didn't know if he could have a serious conversation with Parrish without giving in and trying to touch the guy. On the other hand, he couldn't really sit around and not follow orders.

Parrish was, predictably, in his usual botany lab, reading over some notes at his desk. He did not look happy at all to see Lorne, but with a little bit of persuasion and the patented Lorne charm, complete with cute smile and pleading eyes, he agreed to go somewhere private to discuss the situation.

"I agree that I'm avoiding you," Parrish said shortly after he entered Lorne's room. "But you started acting oddly first. You said I was out of shape, and had me go on more runs with Cadman, and made me do more shooting practice, and you - you kept looking at me, like you were about to kick me off the team or something, and if you want to do that, you should just do it, and not string me along with the hope of staying on, because I can't handle it."

"I'm not kicking you off the team," Lorne replied, surprised. "I didn't know you thought that, and I'm sorry you did. Colonel Sheppard actually suggested we keep up on team fitness, which is why I started the training."

"Oh," Parrish said. "Well. That's good - that's excellent, actually."

Lorne smiled at him, widely if a bit awkwardly; he was glad to see Parrish relieved. Parrish smiled back, and Lorne was struck by the beauty of his smile, how white his teeth were, how happy he could look. He wanted Parrish to be that happy all the time.

"But you're still staring at me, so something is still wrong," Parrish said, smile fading.

"I," Lorne said intelligently. "It's not you, okay?"

"What is it, then?" Parrish asked.

"It's, it's just that I, I don't," Lorne stammered, spinning on his heel to stare at the wall, hoping it would maybe suddenly break open so he could escape, or at least offer some sort of distraction. "I guess I just have to spit this out. Ever since we started wearing the leather uniforms, all I can think about is sex." He paused, waiting for something - for Parrish to freak out, or leave the room, or ask his usual questions, but there was only silence. "Sex with, um, with you," he finally added.

"You should have said something," Parrish said.

Lorne spun around again, hardly able to believe what he was hearing, sure that Parrish was planning to hit him, or out him to the entire expedition, or something else even more horrible which he didn't have time to contemplate because instead, instead Parrish was pushing him back against the wall, hands hard against his hips, and suddenly they were kissing.

"Parrish," Lorne said, intending to pull back while he thought about this, because it was weird, and it needed discussion, and he didn't know what was going on, which was disconcerting. But Parrish kept kissing him, and his hands were busy and distracting, pulling Lorne's shirt up and touching his stomach and his chest, unbuttoning Lorne's pants.

"If you had just told me this sooner," Parrish said as he pulled back to strip, pulling his shirt off over his head and flinging it somewhere one-handed while his other hand unbuttoned his pants and shoved them down. Lorne stayed where he was, up against the wall, feeling kind of stunned. Parrish toed his shoes off and stepped out of his pants, moving back in and pulling Lorne's own shirt off and pushing his pants down his hips.

"Parrish?" Lorne asked, as Parrish inelegantly spit on his hand and lined their cocks up, leaning in to kiss Lorne while he stroked them together.

"I'm sorry, we can have more finesse later," Parrish said. "But would you get with the program?"

"Sorry," Lorne murmured, relaxing; it was all too easy to feel boneless, to let Parrish do all the work. Lorne closed his eyes and breathed in deep; Parrish smelled like plants, and his leather uniform, and it was an arousing blend. Parrish was a tiny bit taller than he was, which he'd known, but they still fit pretty well together. Parrish's hand was a little bit rough, and his cock felt hot against Lorne's. His lips were chapped; he bit them when he was thinking and licked them when he was nervous, which Lorne had previously watched with not a little bit of fascination.

"You think too much," Parrish said. "Stop it. You can think later."

"Sorry," Lorne repeated. Parrish's hand was moving faster, and he felt the tension coiling in his belly.

"C'mon, Lorne, Evan, let go," Parrish said, voice low. "Just do it, come, you'll feel a lot better when you do, just let go and come on me."

"Shit," Lorne said, giving in, shuddering a bit as he watched Parrish use his come to finish himself off. It made him think dirty thoughts about other, better, types of lubrication, and what more delightful things they could try with more time and finesse and maybe a little bit of conversation so neither of them was on the wrong page.

After showering, they went to get food. Sheppard was lounging at a table in the corner, listening to Rodney chatter about something, and he looked up when he saw Lorne and Parrish, raised an eyebrow at them. Lorne nodded once, then shrugged, and Sheppard smiled back.

"What was that about?" Parrish asked, picking up a tray and peering at the available food.

"Nothing, just, everything is fine, that's all," Lorne said.

"Let's sit with Katie," Parrish suggested, and Lorne followed him amiably. He sure wasn't going to say anything out loud, because it would sound stupid, but everything was fine, and it felt fantastic.