I’ll Let You Down Gently, by vida_boheme (NC-17)
Title: I’ll Let You Down Gently
Author: vida_boheme
Pairing: John/Rodney
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~1096
Warnings: May trigger sympathetic back spasms. High in sugar.
Summary: Right now he wants the perfection of this: the long, slow, build of taking John apart and making him come again. Rodney loves giving John this. He pulls those slim hips tight in the cradle of his lap, until every last millimetre of space between their bodies has evaporated into the slick slide of them.
Notes: Inspired by this adaptation by crysothemis (NSFW) and originally written in unamaga's Kamasutrathon.
Rodney can’t take his eyes off John, and really, who could? The dark hair falling away from his forehead as he throws his head back in supplication, his expression softened, younger - lost in building bliss. Rodney watches the tight cord of muscle in John’s neck as he drops his head against the bed, the neat curve of jaw thrusting skywards, the flicker of moonlight catching the slick gleam of his lower lip, and knows - as surely as Rodney knows anything - that John is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.
Rodney longs to lean over and suck the soft full flesh of that bottom lip into his mouth, to bite at the firm muscle along that neck, but he won’t. Later, later... there are always other more frenetic moments to revel in the kissing and the biting; to enjoy the fast and desperate want of quick climaxes from even quicker hands and mouths.
Right now he wants the perfection of this: the long, slow, build of taking John apart and making him come again. Rodney loves giving John this. He pulls those slim hips tight in the cradle of his lap, until every last millimetre of space between their bodies has evaporated into the slick slide of them.
Rodney feels the pull on his shoulders from the passing minutes: the tightening of tricep, and budding burn of bicep, as he holds John’s body up and to him - pushes in and back - so deep, so wonderfully deep. He loves the way John’s body unfolds for him. The taut pull of his stomach muscles as he curves over, arching with pleasure, his arms thrown back against the sheets.
Rodney can feel the gentle rasp of the hair on John’s thighs as they coil around his hips, the crinkle of hair against his belly, and the hard slick heat as the head of John’s cock slides against his abdomen in counterpoint to Rodney thrusts. Rodney’s hands hold John firmly, palms curled across the rise of bone right around to the soft curve of his ass. He loves feeling the velvet-soft skin under his stroking thumbs as he steers John’s hips, his mind focused on drawing out every moment of pleasure.
Here, Rodney is the master of himself and the moment - controlled in a way that most people never comprehend, because they are blinded by the bluster, the brittle veneer of panic that tops his most brilliant plans and improbable last-minute escapes. They don’t really see him, the way that they don’t really see John; don’t see the watchfulness behind the quirk of his smile, the wall behind the friendly greeting, or the spring-coil of anticipation beneath the practised slouch.
That’s part of what makes this so addictive. This holding and having, being able to push away the pressures and fears of any day in Pegasus; the everyday complaints and concerns about knees and backs, age and ever-present danger.
Nothing matters here, but this moment, and John. To be in him, to have stripped him bare of every last fiber of the clothing and control that hides him from the world until he is truly, nakedly, himself - the him that only Rodney gets to see. Here, now, John is travelling beyond the bounds of requirement and responsibility. Here, more so than sleeping, he is unaware of anything (of everything) but this, and Rodney would do anything (will do everything) to let John fly into this endless sky.
He’s so wrapped up in John that the barely-there susserating sigh of breath tells him all he needs to know; John is teetering on the edge - almost lost to that moment of white, the wrack and shake of ecstasy. Then John’s fingers curl tighter into the palm of his hands, a glint of teeth worrying the edge of his lip and Rodney feels the shiver of John’s thighs against his own, slowly building into a shudder as John gasps out, “Rodney!”
And that’s when Rodney’s control breaks: his name on John’s lips, the convulsive shake and grip of John’s body around him, the thick splash of heat between them. That’s when all the words he has bitten back (held down, in order to let John lose himself completely) spill out as he follows his lover over the edge of release - a rush of, “God, John... So beautiful like this. I love you...”
His hands grip tightly as he surges into one final thrust, as deep as it is possible to go, his head dropping forward and his breath shuddering out as his words fade away. Every last thread of tension has gone now. Rodney lets John’s pliant body slide gently along his thighs to rest against the bed. He tilts forward, supporting his body on his trembling arms, and uncurling his legs behind him as he leans down to kiss those full lips.
John’s eyes are still closed, his breath still shivering in his chest as he slides his hands up Rodney’s arms to curl around his neck and pull him closer. John kisses Rodney’s panting mouth, licking in deeply and softly before his arms slide from his lover’s neck and thunk back down against the mattress.
“So, too lazy to expend the enormous amount of energy required to, oh, speak - or maybe open your eyes?”
John nods almost imperceptibly, and smiles. Rodney smiles back at the unseeing face, can’t keep the smile from echoing in his voice.
“Well, I can understand that, I guess the extreme exertion must have wiped you out, eh? There, there, just relax for a moment, Colonel, and I’ll go grab a washcloth and tidy up while you rest those aching muscles...”
There’s no response from the slumped and smiling form splayed out across the bed.
Rodney can feel the tightness already, knows he’ll feel it even more tomorrow, but can’t really bring himself to care. He forces himself to get up, to quickly wipe and dry them both for comfort, and then sinks into the bed.
He curls himself behind John, who has turned on his side and already surrendered any last token resistance to unconsciousness. Rodney kisses the darkened skin at the back of John’s neck, then rests his head there as he snakes an arm around the sleeping man.
“I hope you’ll still love me when I’m totally crippled... crippled as a result of your excessive sexual demands. You know, Sheppard, one of these days I’m going to tell everyone the truth about my back and exactly why I need this prescription mattress...“
.
Author: vida_boheme
Pairing: John/Rodney
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~1096
Warnings: May trigger sympathetic back spasms. High in sugar.
Summary: Right now he wants the perfection of this: the long, slow, build of taking John apart and making him come again. Rodney loves giving John this. He pulls those slim hips tight in the cradle of his lap, until every last millimetre of space between their bodies has evaporated into the slick slide of them.
Notes: Inspired by this adaptation by crysothemis (NSFW) and originally written in unamaga's Kamasutrathon.
Rodney can’t take his eyes off John, and really, who could? The dark hair falling away from his forehead as he throws his head back in supplication, his expression softened, younger - lost in building bliss. Rodney watches the tight cord of muscle in John’s neck as he drops his head against the bed, the neat curve of jaw thrusting skywards, the flicker of moonlight catching the slick gleam of his lower lip, and knows - as surely as Rodney knows anything - that John is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.
Rodney longs to lean over and suck the soft full flesh of that bottom lip into his mouth, to bite at the firm muscle along that neck, but he won’t. Later, later... there are always other more frenetic moments to revel in the kissing and the biting; to enjoy the fast and desperate want of quick climaxes from even quicker hands and mouths.
Right now he wants the perfection of this: the long, slow, build of taking John apart and making him come again. Rodney loves giving John this. He pulls those slim hips tight in the cradle of his lap, until every last millimetre of space between their bodies has evaporated into the slick slide of them.
Rodney feels the pull on his shoulders from the passing minutes: the tightening of tricep, and budding burn of bicep, as he holds John’s body up and to him - pushes in and back - so deep, so wonderfully deep. He loves the way John’s body unfolds for him. The taut pull of his stomach muscles as he curves over, arching with pleasure, his arms thrown back against the sheets.
Rodney can feel the gentle rasp of the hair on John’s thighs as they coil around his hips, the crinkle of hair against his belly, and the hard slick heat as the head of John’s cock slides against his abdomen in counterpoint to Rodney thrusts. Rodney’s hands hold John firmly, palms curled across the rise of bone right around to the soft curve of his ass. He loves feeling the velvet-soft skin under his stroking thumbs as he steers John’s hips, his mind focused on drawing out every moment of pleasure.
Here, Rodney is the master of himself and the moment - controlled in a way that most people never comprehend, because they are blinded by the bluster, the brittle veneer of panic that tops his most brilliant plans and improbable last-minute escapes. They don’t really see him, the way that they don’t really see John; don’t see the watchfulness behind the quirk of his smile, the wall behind the friendly greeting, or the spring-coil of anticipation beneath the practised slouch.
That’s part of what makes this so addictive. This holding and having, being able to push away the pressures and fears of any day in Pegasus; the everyday complaints and concerns about knees and backs, age and ever-present danger.
Nothing matters here, but this moment, and John. To be in him, to have stripped him bare of every last fiber of the clothing and control that hides him from the world until he is truly, nakedly, himself - the him that only Rodney gets to see. Here, now, John is travelling beyond the bounds of requirement and responsibility. Here, more so than sleeping, he is unaware of anything (of everything) but this, and Rodney would do anything (will do everything) to let John fly into this endless sky.
He’s so wrapped up in John that the barely-there susserating sigh of breath tells him all he needs to know; John is teetering on the edge - almost lost to that moment of white, the wrack and shake of ecstasy. Then John’s fingers curl tighter into the palm of his hands, a glint of teeth worrying the edge of his lip and Rodney feels the shiver of John’s thighs against his own, slowly building into a shudder as John gasps out, “Rodney!”
And that’s when Rodney’s control breaks: his name on John’s lips, the convulsive shake and grip of John’s body around him, the thick splash of heat between them. That’s when all the words he has bitten back (held down, in order to let John lose himself completely) spill out as he follows his lover over the edge of release - a rush of, “God, John... So beautiful like this. I love you...”
His hands grip tightly as he surges into one final thrust, as deep as it is possible to go, his head dropping forward and his breath shuddering out as his words fade away. Every last thread of tension has gone now. Rodney lets John’s pliant body slide gently along his thighs to rest against the bed. He tilts forward, supporting his body on his trembling arms, and uncurling his legs behind him as he leans down to kiss those full lips.
John’s eyes are still closed, his breath still shivering in his chest as he slides his hands up Rodney’s arms to curl around his neck and pull him closer. John kisses Rodney’s panting mouth, licking in deeply and softly before his arms slide from his lover’s neck and thunk back down against the mattress.
“So, too lazy to expend the enormous amount of energy required to, oh, speak - or maybe open your eyes?”
John nods almost imperceptibly, and smiles. Rodney smiles back at the unseeing face, can’t keep the smile from echoing in his voice.
“Well, I can understand that, I guess the extreme exertion must have wiped you out, eh? There, there, just relax for a moment, Colonel, and I’ll go grab a washcloth and tidy up while you rest those aching muscles...”
There’s no response from the slumped and smiling form splayed out across the bed.
Rodney can feel the tightness already, knows he’ll feel it even more tomorrow, but can’t really bring himself to care. He forces himself to get up, to quickly wipe and dry them both for comfort, and then sinks into the bed.
He curls himself behind John, who has turned on his side and already surrendered any last token resistance to unconsciousness. Rodney kisses the darkened skin at the back of John’s neck, then rests his head there as he snakes an arm around the sleeping man.
“I hope you’ll still love me when I’m totally crippled... crippled as a result of your excessive sexual demands. You know, Sheppard, one of these days I’m going to tell everyone the truth about my back and exactly why I need this prescription mattress...“
.