Work Text:
Rodney laid Ariel's gift down on the bed, listening to the harsh sound of John's breathing and the rustle of sheets rucking up under John's heels. It was so much easier to touch those beads now that he'd decided what to do with them, and from the way John kept staring at them, trying to catch his breath, there was no longer any doubt in his mind that John wanted this as much as he did. Shifting even closer, he leant over John, eyes drawn again to acres of flushed skin, to the lines of sweat trickling down John's face and neck, and the rapid rise and fall of John's chest. "God, John, you look amazing like this," he whispered, breathing a little raggedly himself.
The flush spread even further, turning the tips of John's ears bright red. Yet the eyes, which lifted to meet his were dark and hungry and anything but shy. "Rodney," John murmured, shifting under his gaze. "Yeah, right there—" and then John's hands were reaching for him again, cupping his cheek and combing trembling fingers through his hair, making his breath come even faster.
This rush of feeling always took him by surprise. No matter how many times they did this, or how often they came together, just the two of them in his bed, that dizzying sense of wonder was always there. But even in this there was something new. Something about having John lying naked in his bed while he sat there fully clothed turned him on so much he was shaking. Even though they'd talked about it before, he never imagined John would trust him enough to lay himself open like this. And once all that earlier embarrassed uncertainty was gone, Rodney found he didn't miss it at all. Not with this new John, who was so hot and so slick inside, lifting his hips like he couldn't get enough of the fingers Rodney had buried deep inside him.
"Does it still feel good?" Rodney whispered, twisting them gently.
John nodded, hitching his knees up and thighs wide open, heels digging into the mattress, back arching with each slow thrust. The thick, dark hair on his chest still glistened with come, and Rodney could tell by the way John was shivering that he was getting close again.
"Are you ready for more?" he asked, watching John's face carefully, gauging his reactions.
"Yes." John nodded again, sliding both hands to his shoulders. "Please," he said very softly.
"Okay," Rodney replied, glancing across to the beads, to where he'd dropped them next to the pillow. Then he looked up to find John staring at him, pupils wide and dark, looking desperate and barely in control. "Soon, I promise," he added, watching the way John shivered when he said that, not sure whom he was trying to convince any more because he felt almost drunk from seeing John lose it like this, and he didn't know if he could stop.
"Now, Rodney," John whispered, and when John's hands slid up to cradle his face, Rodney found himself arching into them, rubbing his cheek against John's palm, his breath shuddering against the thumb stroking over his lips. "Want you now," John told him, the hunger in those words curling through the air, making him gasp. And Rodney had barely enough time to nod before John's hands were sliding back down, stroking down to his chest, thumbs brushing at his nipples in tiny, slow circles.
"Oh, God," Rodney moaned, heat and pleasure shooting through him in sharp, sweet bursts, making his cock throb and start to drip steadily. "John, don't," he whispered harshly. "Please, too much—" and after several long seconds of blinding sensation, he managed to make himself curl away from it, breathing fast and shallow, so hard now he could barely think.
He'd been hard from the moment he'd pushed two fingers into John and then watched him come just from that. Now the sight and the scent of it mixed in with the sweat on John's chest were driving him crazy. He wanted to lick it off him; he wanted to bury his face in all that soft hair and hard muscle. So Rodney bent down without thinking, drawing his open mouth across John's chest, breathing deep all the while, trying to breathe John in.
"Fuck, yes!" John shuddered under him when his tongue grazed over a nipple. "Rodney, come on," he growled urgently, pressing up against him, trying to get more.
It was enough to clear his head temporarily, leaving him hovering over John, breath gusting through his parted lips, fingers still twisting and turning and stroking into him. And when finally he eased them out completely, John sank back onto the bed, letting out a long, plaintive whine.
"No, no, it's just, I need—" Rodney took another deep breath, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "Can you lift up for me?" he asked, staring into those dazed eyes. Then Rodney had to bite back a whine of his own when John obeyed him at once, lifting his hips so he could slide another pillow under them. "God, John, you're so . . . " he trailed off breathless as John settled back with his hips propped up, cock lying wet and hard against his stomach, looking hot and sweaty and so incredibly close to losing it that for several moments all he could do was stare.
"Rodney, please," and John was sitting up again, arms reaching out for him, winding frantically round his shoulders. "Please, don't stop," John begged him, touching their foreheads together. "I'm so close; don't make me wait," he continued, stroking trembling fingers into his hair, making him shiver.
"I won't," Rodney promised him, cupping one hand gently over his nape. "I can't," he admitted shakily, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses to John's jaw, to the skin at his throat. And slowly, guiding John down onto the bed, Rodney slid two fingers back into him, watching John's eyes close and his lips part on a moan.
"God, that's good," John told him, arching up to meet them. "So good, Rodney—" he broke off suddenly, gasping and then grinding down in a rhythm that was shot to hell.
"Like this?" Rodney asked him, and he could see John nodding, shivering under him, struggling for air.
So Rodney crooked his fingers again until they reached that sensitive knot of nerves, then he pressed down and rubbed John there in hard, slow circles, watching the pleasure glide across John's face, listening to the tiny, hitching sounds John couldn't seem to hold in any more. He could feel John's thighs tensing against his arm, and John's grip on his shoulders tightened as he circled his fingers faster, harder. Until all of a sudden John whispered, "Rodney—oh, fuck—" sounding broken and gone. Then John was there, arching and shuddering and coming in thick, long spurts, which splattered him down from his neck to his stomach.
"Jesus," Rodney groaned at the sight of it, feeling John clenching round his fingers. And he had to stop himself right then from draping John's legs over his shoulders and sliding into him to feel those contractions around his cock. He knew John would let him have that; John was so completely gone that he knew John would let him have anything he wanted. But not yet, he told himself, trying to stay in control. Not yet, because he'd promised to give this to John first, and now John's hands were combing restlessly through his hair, cupping the back of his neck.
"Rodney," John whispered, sounding even more broken. "Rodney, God, come here!"
"Okay," he replied very softly, before letting John draw him down into a kiss that was wet and deep and not at all controlled. He heard himself moaning as John licked into him, stroking slowly along his tongue and the roof of his mouth. Until he took control of the kiss, catching John's tongue gently between his teeth before sucking slowly on it in a way that had John writhing under him. And when he curled his fingers deep inside John, stroking inside him again, John tore his mouth free, gasping, bucking sharply up against him.
Suddenly Rodney found he couldn't wait a moment longer, because John was still turned on. John was still hard and hot against him, he could feel it.
Easing his fingers out, he reached for the beads, watching John watch him with lust-glazed eyes, and they were both panting by the time he placed them between John's thighs. "We've got to, now," Rodney told him, mouthing the skin at John's throat, licking and biting gently at it. "Now, John, please," he whispered, moving up to catch John's mouth in another deep kiss while he rubbed the first bead at John's entrance, getting it slick, teasing him with it.
"Rodney," John croaked, wrenching his mouth away again.
And slowly, so slow, Rodney pushed the bead into him, watching the way John's eyes widened as it stretched him and then drifted shut when suddenly it slipped in.
"Oh, fuck—" John shivered helplessly, and Rodney had to close his own eyes for a moment because suddenly he was right back in that place where all he could think about was sliding himself slowly into John, and feeling John stretch round him the same way before taking him in.
When he looked down again, John was breathing raggedly, thrashing his head from side to side. So he stroked a hand down John's chest, trying to ground him, saying, "It's okay, John, let it happen," keeping his voice soft and low. "Yes, like that," he whispered. "Just like that," and he left his hand on John's stomach, holding him still while he pressed another bead into him, then another, and another.
John's cries got louder and even more desperate.
"We're almost there, just a few more," Rodney told him, taking one brief second to wipe the sweat from his forehead, before pushing in the last few beads one by one. And when he'd finished, when they were all in and when John was looking up at him with wide, dazed eyes, Rodney sat back feeling a little dizzy, staring at the trailing piece of string lying outside John's body.
"Rodney," John whimpered, writhing helplessly, feet scrabbling on the sheets. "Rodney, fuck, it's so . . .. "
"Yeah," Rodney said quietly, barely in control himself.
He knew John would be like this. From the moment he slid his fingers into John, when it became so completely obvious how much that had turned John on, making him come so hard, so fast, he'd known John would go wild from the sensation of having those beads humming inside him. And it turned him on even more knowing that he was the first person to give John this, the only person, who ever got to watch John fall apart so beautifully, all because of him.
He couldn't just watch for long. Soon he had to touch John again, to feel the slide of that sweat soaked skin under his palm. And then he had to taste, fitting his lips round a peaked nipple, feeling it stiffen even further under his tongue.
"Please," John groaned, hands clawing across his shoulders, fingers twisting up handfuls of his shirt. "I need—please—" Then John started tugging and he kept on pulling until Rodney stretched out on top of him, tangling their legs together, pressing his face into the hollow of John's throat.
"Is this okay?" Rodney asked him, trying not to lie down too heavily. "Is that—"
"Yeah," John panted, nudging one knee between his thighs, arching up and shivering at the end of it. "That's—oh fuck, right there," he sobbed, hands sliding down inside the back of his trousers, cupping his ass, pulling him forward.
"Jesus," Rodney whispered, and he rocked down to meet him, feeling John's legs tighten around his thigh.
Suddenly, everything clicked into place, and it was like riding a wild thing. Because John just kept on rubbing up against him, gasping in his ear, hands clawing and tugging at his shirt the whole time. And Rodney knew this was the moment he'd been waiting for. That moment where pleasure had completely taken over and John was lost in it, wild, desperate, out of control. So he reached down between John's legs, and then he yanked hard on that piece of string, making the beads pop out of John in one long, hard rush.
The next thing he knew, John's teeth sank into his shoulder, and then John arched halfway off the bed, ripping his shirt down the back while the slick, slow spurts from John's cock wet it down at the front.
"Oh my God!" Rodney shuddered violently, the last of his control utterly destroyed. "Can I—oh God, John, please—"
But John was gone, absolutely wrecked with ecstasy, slipping sated and slowly out of his fumbling arms back onto the bed.
He followed John down, crawling on top of him, so desperate now he could barely think straight. And he could hear himself making the most embarrassing whining noises as he tried to rub himself off against John's thigh. But even that wasn't enough to make him stop, because he was so close, and he needed to come so badly he was aching, and—
"Rodney," John breathed in his ear, stroking gentle hands down his back. "It's okay, Rodney, I've got you now." Then John was helping him, pushing down his trousers, legs wrapping around his waist.
It was so easy to slide into that clutching heat, so very easy to lose himself in the pleasure rushing up to meet him. And when it peaked and then crashed over him, drowning him in devastating waves, John drew him close and held him through it, crooning softly in his ear the whole time.
***
"Okay, so now do you believe me?" Rodney said when he could speak in full sentences again.
"Yes, Rodney," John sighed, and he could feel John trying to stifle a smile against his shoulder. "As usual, you were right, it's definitely a sex toy."
"See, I told you it was!" he said triumphantly.
The smile turned into open laughter.
Perhaps if he hadn't just experienced one of the most intense orgasms of his life, he might have had enough righteous indignation to complain about John's attitude. But he had, and now he felt far too lazy for that kind of thing. So, since John didn't seem to mind having him sprawled out on top of him, Rodney decided to stay right where he was, basking in the sensation of John's hand stroking down his back.
"You know, I actually liked that T-shirt," he mumbled a few minutes later, managing to scrounge up some indignation after all.
"I prefer you naked," John replied, not sounding the least bit repentant.
Rodney scowled. "Yes, yes, yes, that's all very well and good," he muttered, seriously unimpressed. "But the next time you plan to rip the shirt off my back so I can screw your brains out, I'll make sure I'm wearing one of yours, okay?"
John's hand stuttered halfway down his back. "Really?"
"What?" Rodney blinked, mentally re-playing the last few seconds of their conversation, and then he yelled, "Oh my God!" Pushing up onto his elbows, he stared down at John in amazement. "You are so kinky! You seriously want me to fuck you while I'm wearing your uniform, don't you?"
The sharp hitch in John's breathing told him he was on to something, and the way John's ears suddenly went bright red confirmed it.
"Oh my God, you do, you actually do!"
"I didn't say that!" John looked away, sounding mildly affronted. Though John's blushing showed no signs of going away, and for a long, long time John struggled to meet his eyes. "But maybe that could be fun, right?" he admitted in the end. "I mean, only if you were in to it, and only if you wanted to try it, just once maybe," he went on very quietly, almost garbling the words in his rush to get them out.
Rodney thought about it for a second, looking down at John's flushed, hopeful face. "Yeah, okay, we could do that," he agreed.
The End.
