So, I was reading fandom_secrets and you know what? None of the manga stuff makes a lick of sense to me. Same/uke? Yaoi? And the drawing style is often so similar I have no idea if I'm seeing stuff all on one comic/series or what
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For a heartbeat John freezes, mouth sweet and still as stone under Rodney's, and yes yes yes Rodney has completely lost it because all he can think is this is second-hand high fructose corn syrup, followed by got milk? and threatening to spill out of his head into maniacal laughter. But then, oh God then, John shifts, thigh more emphatic against Rodney's, and Rodney's so distracted by the warm, warm weight of him he misses the effortless slide into something more, his tongue riding the crease of John's lip and god wet, slick as wet, washed rock, the only friction John's tongue edging carefully against Rodney's.
And that...
"Mmmmph mmmph!" Rodney says, which is oh my God whimpered into John's mouth. It kills him to pull away but he has to, has to because, "oh my God, you're... I made you! I could... you could be subconsciously compelled to accede to my every whim and I'm not--I'm desperate and it's very possible I've completely lost my mind but I don't, I don't want you to call me 'master' or kiss me because the fact I'm your creator means you exist to serve me and, and--and do things like... like kissing because I say you--"
A hand closes over his mouth, cutting off you have to so Rodney's lips move against the soft, salty curve of John's palm and fingers. "Rodney." Impatience sharpens the hazy green of John's eyes. "I wanted to stay," John says, nodding slightly with each word; Rodney nods back in echo. "I wanted to stay, not be mindless. There's a difference. Okay?"
And John's mouth closes over his to steal Rodney's agreement, inexpert but learning quickly, his hand curving over the arc of Rodney's shoulder, the echo of Rodney that one day, when he'd given into impulse and kissed unresponsive lips and licked away the dust.
Unresponsive is not what John is now, and Rodney is not a stone. Eagerly kissing Rodney, John presses him back into the couch, warm and strong and his soft skin, yielding to the pressure of Rodney's fingers.
He's going to need days to map out all of John; witness every miraculous inch.
A part of his brain is still wringing its hands at this impossibility, this miracle, and muttering about dire consequenses but the majority of of Rodney's brain is firmly turned off, turned on and given over to little explosions of joy.
He can make John happy, it seems, by scratching his nails lightly against his scalp; it makes him hum and shiver against Rodney's lips. Stroking his back and sides in long strokes wrings a groan out of John's throat that catches something in Rodney's chest.
John looks down at him, eyes heavy lidded, mouth swollen and red and smiling.
"What?" he whispers. "Whacha thinking?"
"This is the first time anyone's touched you."
"Rodney," John rolls his eyes. "You touch me all the time."
Rodney cups his cheek. "You know what I mean."
John looks nervous for maybe a nanosecond, and then he's smiling again, but Rodney knows every centimeter of that face. Feeling a little more in control of himself , he traces the funny bump on John's nose that insisted on being made that way.
He gives John a look. "This is the first time I am touching you and you can - his mouth goes dry as he thinks it - you are touching me back. And the couch springs are digging into my back."
He can't stop touching John's face, which is grounding him while he prepares to say the craziest thing he's ever said to a statue. He traces the sharp line of John's jaw and the softness of his lips and looks up into his still-surprising eyes.
And of course you would stop just before the good part! *wails* I vants moar!!!! pwetty pwease?
I can't help myself, but this is just so incredibly hot--and he's a statue! *flails helplessly at the sheer crackality of it all* And I loves it. Oh I loves it and I's be begging for moar...........! *begs*
And that...
"Mmmmph mmmph!" Rodney says, which is oh my God whimpered into John's mouth. It kills him to pull away but he has to, has to because, "oh my God, you're... I made you! I could... you could be subconsciously compelled to accede to my every whim and I'm not--I'm desperate and it's very possible I've completely lost my mind but I don't, I don't want you to call me 'master' or kiss me because the fact I'm your creator means you exist to serve me and, and--and do things like... like kissing because I say you--"
A hand closes over his mouth, cutting off you have to so Rodney's lips move against the soft, salty curve of John's palm and fingers. "Rodney." Impatience sharpens the hazy green of John's eyes. "I wanted to stay," John says, nodding slightly with each word; Rodney nods back in echo. "I wanted to stay, not be mindless. There's a difference. Okay?"
And John's mouth closes over his to steal Rodney's agreement, inexpert but learning quickly, his hand curving over the arc of Rodney's shoulder, the echo of Rodney that one day, when he'd given into impulse and kissed unresponsive lips and licked away the dust.
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He's going to need days to map out all of John; witness every miraculous inch.
A part of his brain is still wringing its hands at this impossibility, this miracle, and muttering about dire consequenses but the majority of of Rodney's brain is firmly turned off, turned on and given over to little explosions of joy.
He can make John happy, it seems, by scratching his nails lightly against his scalp; it makes him hum and shiver against Rodney's lips. Stroking his back and sides in long strokes wrings a groan out of John's throat that catches something in Rodney's chest.
John looks down at him, eyes heavy lidded, mouth swollen and red and smiling.
"What?" he whispers. "Whacha thinking?"
"This is the first time anyone's touched you."
"Rodney," John rolls his eyes. "You touch me all the time."
Rodney cups his cheek. "You know what I mean."
John looks nervous for maybe a nanosecond, and then he's smiling again, but Rodney knows every centimeter of that face. Feeling a little more in control of himself , he traces the funny bump on John's nose that insisted on being made that way.
He gives John a look. "This is the first time I am touching you and you can - his mouth goes dry as he thinks it - you are touching me back. And the couch springs are digging into my back."
He can't stop touching John's face, which is grounding him while he prepares to say the craziest thing he's ever said to a statue. He traces the sharp line of John's jaw and the softness of his lips and looks up into his still-surprising eyes.
"Come to bed with me," Rodney whispers.
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Thanks, very much, really.
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I can't help myself, but this is just so incredibly hot--and he's a statue! *flails helplessly at the sheer crackality of it all* And I loves it. Oh I loves it and I's be begging for moar...........! *begs*
<3
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