And then . . . (1/2)sheafrotherdonMay 12 2007, 19:00:41 UTC
It's clumsy and urgent - as they kiss (hot, messy, nipping) it dawns on John that perhaps he's not the only one who's been holding himself in check. "Upstairs," he manages, biting the side of Rodney's neck. Rodney's already tugged his t-shirt out of his jeans, broad hands shockingly warm against John's back, and he has an inkling that if they wait five seconds longer they're going to bring each other off on the porch, panting into each other's mouths and staining their underwear like they're fifteen. "Upstairs."
"Jesus, yes, yes, it's just - you're so hot, so very, very hot," Rodney gasps, stumbling backwards, pulling John with him, fingers hooked inside the waistband of his jeans, and the shock of Rodney's nails scratching blunt against his stomach is enough to make John grit his teeth and think desperate thoughts of glaciers, snowdrifts, cold so brutal that it's almost pain.
"Can't - can't - " he manages, pulling away and taking the stairs two at a time, pulling his shirt off over his head and throwing it aside, toeing off his shoes, ripping off his belt before Rodney's made it to the landing.
Rodney swallows, presses the heel of his hand hard against the erection that's tenting his pants. "Stop, stop, I'm gonna - "
"I'm just getting naked," John points out, popping the top two buttons of his fly.
"Nnngaah," Rodney says, turning his back toward John. "Mrs. Tigit, grade two, tweed, tweed skirts, mole, mole on her lip . . . "
John can feel his own ardor diminishing just a little, and he doesn't have a concrete visual to go with Mrs. Tigit's name. "Rodney - "
"Mole on her lip, mole that quivered . . . " Rodney mumbles, eyes screwed up tight.
John crosses the room and slides an arm around Rodney's torso, pulling him sharply back against him, replacing Rodney's hand with his own. "We can do this right here."
"You wanted the bed," Rodney says in a strangled voice.
"No, I wanted upstairs," John breathes, voice low and hoarse as he nips just behind Rodney's ear, fingers making quick work of Rodney's belt and fly.
"Oh Jesus, I haven't - I mean - I was thirteen the last time I was this close this fast and - "
"This'll be better," John promises, wrapping his hand around Rodney's cock.
"Already is," Rodney pants, leaning all his weight back on John, one hand resting on John's forearm, the other curled around John's thigh. "Oh Jesus, please."
John hooks his chin over Rodney's shoulder so he can watch, see the damp, flushed head of Rodney's cock sliding through his fingers again and again. "Yeah," he breathes, rocking his hips against Rodney's ass in time with the movement of his hand. "Good?"
"Nnnnn," Rodney manages, chest heaving.
John squeezes a little harder and Rodney all but sobs his next breath; he twists his hand on the upstroke and Rodney shudders, helpless. "You wanna come?"
Rodney nods, head tipped back against John's shoulder. "So. Badly." He sucks in a breath. "Bastard."
"So come on," John whispers, twisting his wrist again. "My hand's right there."
"Oh, Jesus," Rodney whimpers, hips bucking, nails sinking into John's arm as he comes and comes, warm and wet, staining the tail of his shirt, the front of his pants, slicking John's hand.
"Yeah," John murmurs, gentling him through it. His own hips don't stop rocking, even as Rodney sags, limp and sated against his chest.
"I think - " Rodney wets his lips. "Brain. Brain gone."
John turns him around and kisses him, fierce and a little sloppy, lifts his hand and licks come from his fingertips while Rodney looks on.
Re: And then . . . (2/2)sheafrotherdonMay 12 2007, 19:00:58 UTC
"Not yet," John manages, guiding Rodney's hand to the front of his jeans, closing his fingers around his cock. "Please, Rodney, please . . ."
Rodney makes a sound as though he's dying. "Like I'd say no?" he asks, hooking a hand behind John's neck, pulling him into a rough, desperate kiss while he jacks him sweetly, callused hand tugging tight and hard until John groans, panting, spills between them both. It's devastating, the force of feeling that surges inside him, causing his thighs to tremble, his knees to give way, and he can barely spare a thought to be relieved when Rodney moves with him, catches his elbow before it hits the floor, slumps beside him on the rough floorboards and leaves his hand down the front of John's pants.
John blinks. "I - "
Rodney leans in and kisses him, gentler now that the first wave of need between them's been spent. "I think we should - " He gestures to the bed.
"Hmmmm," John agrees, leaning his forehead against Rodney's for a second. "Minute." He shivers, undone.
Rodney clears his throat. "More?" he asks. "Later?"
John growls low in his throat and kisses Rodney hard. "Hell yes," he manages, pulling Rodney half on top of him, and makes a start on the next time right away.
Re: And then . . . (2/2)dogearedMay 12 2007, 19:10:33 UTC
asdfasdf;sdfsdlkj *FLAILS*
Okay, so, every word of this is unbelievably hot, but my absolute favorite part is John turns him around and kisses him, fierce and a little sloppy and John undone, adsfasflkj mmmmmmmmmmmmpf *melts completely*
Re: And then . . . (2/2)sheafrotherdonMay 12 2007, 20:55:18 UTC
Oh I do like the idea that Rodney can undo him. And I bet when Rodney's completely trusting, stripped down and vulnerable, oh so close to coming again, slow and lazy, close and breathless . . . I bet meeting his gaze is enough to undo John all over again.
"Jesus, yes, yes, it's just - you're so hot, so very, very hot," Rodney gasps, stumbling backwards, pulling John with him, fingers hooked inside the waistband of his jeans, and the shock of Rodney's nails scratching blunt against his stomach is enough to make John grit his teeth and think desperate thoughts of glaciers, snowdrifts, cold so brutal that it's almost pain.
"Can't - can't - " he manages, pulling away and taking the stairs two at a time, pulling his shirt off over his head and throwing it aside, toeing off his shoes, ripping off his belt before Rodney's made it to the landing.
Rodney swallows, presses the heel of his hand hard against the erection that's tenting his pants. "Stop, stop, I'm gonna - "
"I'm just getting naked," John points out, popping the top two buttons of his fly.
"Nnngaah," Rodney says, turning his back toward John. "Mrs. Tigit, grade two, tweed, tweed skirts, mole, mole on her lip . . . "
John can feel his own ardor diminishing just a little, and he doesn't have a concrete visual to go with Mrs. Tigit's name. "Rodney - "
"Mole on her lip, mole that quivered . . . " Rodney mumbles, eyes screwed up tight.
John crosses the room and slides an arm around Rodney's torso, pulling him sharply back against him, replacing Rodney's hand with his own. "We can do this right here."
"You wanted the bed," Rodney says in a strangled voice.
"No, I wanted upstairs," John breathes, voice low and hoarse as he nips just behind Rodney's ear, fingers making quick work of Rodney's belt and fly.
"Oh Jesus, I haven't - I mean - I was thirteen the last time I was this close this fast and - "
"This'll be better," John promises, wrapping his hand around Rodney's cock.
"Already is," Rodney pants, leaning all his weight back on John, one hand resting on John's forearm, the other curled around John's thigh. "Oh Jesus, please."
John hooks his chin over Rodney's shoulder so he can watch, see the damp, flushed head of Rodney's cock sliding through his fingers again and again. "Yeah," he breathes, rocking his hips against Rodney's ass in time with the movement of his hand. "Good?"
"Nnnnn," Rodney manages, chest heaving.
John squeezes a little harder and Rodney all but sobs his next breath; he twists his hand on the upstroke and Rodney shudders, helpless. "You wanna come?"
Rodney nods, head tipped back against John's shoulder. "So. Badly." He sucks in a breath. "Bastard."
"So come on," John whispers, twisting his wrist again. "My hand's right there."
"Oh, Jesus," Rodney whimpers, hips bucking, nails sinking into John's arm as he comes and comes, warm and wet, staining the tail of his shirt, the front of his pants, slicking John's hand.
"Yeah," John murmurs, gentling him through it. His own hips don't stop rocking, even as Rodney sags, limp and sated against his chest.
"I think - " Rodney wets his lips. "Brain. Brain gone."
John turns him around and kisses him, fierce and a little sloppy, lifts his hand and licks come from his fingertips while Rodney looks on.
"Definitely," Rodney says weakly. "Gone."
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Rodney makes a sound as though he's dying. "Like I'd say no?" he asks, hooking a hand behind John's neck, pulling him into a rough, desperate kiss while he jacks him sweetly, callused hand tugging tight and hard until John groans, panting, spills between them both. It's devastating, the force of feeling that surges inside him, causing his thighs to tremble, his knees to give way, and he can barely spare a thought to be relieved when Rodney moves with him, catches his elbow before it hits the floor, slumps beside him on the rough floorboards and leaves his hand down the front of John's pants.
John blinks. "I - "
Rodney leans in and kisses him, gentler now that the first wave of need between them's been spent. "I think we should - " He gestures to the bed.
"Hmmmm," John agrees, leaning his forehead against Rodney's for a second. "Minute." He shivers, undone.
Rodney clears his throat. "More?" he asks. "Later?"
John growls low in his throat and kisses Rodney hard. "Hell yes," he manages, pulling Rodney half on top of him, and makes a start on the next time right away.
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Okay, so, every word of this is unbelievably hot, but my absolute favorite part is John turns him around and kisses him, fierce and a little sloppy and John undone, adsfasflkj mmmmmmmmmmmmpf *melts completely*
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It's perfect!
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*thud*
Just. Buttons. Mine. You. sokjdgs'dgj.
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