FIC: Travel the World and the Seven Seas (SGA, John/Rodney, NC-17)
Title: Travel the World and the Seven Seas
Author: telesilla
Fandom/Pairing: SGA, John/Rodney
ficrocksthe80s Song Prompt: Sweet Things (Are Made of This)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: The SGA characters do not belong to me. Duh.
Summary: Rodney ties John up in order to do something truly wicked to him.
Notes: This was originally going to be comment fic for sheafrotherdon"s Skin Hunger Challenge, but then it got long and I realized it actually fit my ficrocksthe80s prompt. Many thanks to helens78 not only for running this challenge with me, but for her excellent beta-fu.
Everybody's looking for something
Some of them want to use you
Some of them want to get used by you
Some of them want to abuse you
Some of them want to be abused
Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) -- Eurythmics
"Rodney...c'mon, do something." John knew he was whining, and for once he really didn't care.
"Hush," Rodney said. "Can you do this without talking?" John swallowed hard and heard a rustle that he hoped was Rodney undressing. The bed dipped as Rodney sat down on the edge of it, and John held his breath, waiting for Rodney to do something, anything.
That was why he was here after all, here on Rodney's bed with soft rope wrapped around his wrists and ankles and a silky black cloth tied over his eyes. In fact, he'd been the one to bring this up; once he and Rodney had tumbled into bed together and John had learned that Rodney was surprisingly good at manhandling John and pounding him into the mattress, bondage and maybe a little more seemed the natural next step.
In a somewhat surprising role reversal, John had laid it all out in detail and a rush of words, explaining that he'd done this before and that his limits were pretty high and that as long as they were where no one could see them, he liked having bruises and marks on him the next day. Rodney had listened and looked at him, his face taking on that look that usually meant he was about to figure out a new and brilliant way to save everyone's lives. John had found it both incredibly disturbing and utterly hot and when he'd squirmed, Rodney had just smiled a slow smile.
Now John was squirming again, arching and twisting as he tested the ropes. They held; Rodney knew what he was doing and John felt the tension inside him ratchet up further.
"Relax," Rodney said with a faint chuckle. "You have done this before, right?"
John would have glared if he hadn't been blindfolded. As it was, he snorted a little and arched again, this time doing his best to display himself.
"Nice," Rodney said. John felt the bed shift and held his breath again. Would Rodney pinch him? Slap him? Hell, for all John knew, Rodney had toys of some kind; after all, the ropes and scarf were his, not John's.
He all but jumped out of his skin when Rodney laid a hand on him. "Jesus," Rodney muttered as he stroked John's thigh. John swallowed hard, suddenly realizing that he hadn't said anything about verbal stuff. God, it'd be just like Rodney to have a humiliation kink.
"Shhhh...." Rodney stroked John again, using just enough pressure to keep it from tickling--and oh fuck, but he hadn't mentioned that he hated being tickled--but not enough pressure for it to be anything more than a caress.
John frowned.
Either Rodney didn't notice the frown or he didn't care; his hand moved lower, stroking John's knee, fingers careful as they traced the kneecap and under it. He kept going, and John shivered a little as Rodney's palm slid over John's calf muscle, his thumb tracing along the top of John's shin.
"I'm good," he says. "Really, you don't have to...."
Rodney silenced him with a hand over his mouth, and John shivered as warm, blunt fingers stroked his face. "I can do anything I want to you." He continued to explore John's face with one hand, while the other stroked the inside of John's arm. "It just so happens that this is what I want to do."
And touch by touch, caress by caress, Rodney took John apart. John didn't get it; he'd been spanked, slapped, hit with a belt and there had been one memorable occasion after which he'd never been able to look at clothespins the same way, but no one had ever tied him up just to touch him.
Nothing, none of the kinky games he'd played, had left him this open, made him this aware of just how vulnerable he was. Rodney touched him as if he rather than John were the one blindfolded, as if this was the only way Rodney could see him. No, that was wrong--Rodney touched John as if this were the only way Rodney could know him.
"Rodney," John gasped, twisting in the ropes. "I can't...." Can't give you this much, can't let you make me feel like this.
"Are you asking me to stop?" Rodney's fingers, which had been tracing what they could reach of the small bones of John's ankle, stilled.
"I...." If he hadn't been blindfolded, John would have said yes, but as it was, he took a deep breath and shook his head. He hadn't been touched like this in...well, to be honest, he'd never been touched like this.
Rodney was touching him as if John were something infinitely precious, as if every single bone and muscle and inch of skin held the secrets of the universe written on John's body for Rodney to read. It shouldn't have made John breath hitch and catch in his throat, shouldn't have been as devastating as it was, and yet he was shaking and--he could admit it if only to himself--terrified.
"Rodney," he said again, his voice soft and shaky. Startled, he clamped his teeth down to prevent any more words escaping.
"I know," Rodney said. "It's okay, you're tied up and you can't stop me. Just let it happen, John, just let me touch you. Let me give you what you need."
That, John realized as Rodney's hands continued taking him apart, was what made this so frightening. Rodney knew that this was the one thing John couldn't ask for, but John had no idea how he'd known that John needed it when John didn't even know himself. Or maybe it was just that John, who could ask to be hurt without batting an eyelash, hadn't wanted to admit to needing this.
He was so caught up in the feel of Rodney's hands on him that it took a moment to realize that Rodney had untied the ropes holding his ankles. They were still wrapped around him but no longer fastened to the bed.
"Don't...I can't...I won't be able to do this if you...."
"Shhh," Rodney murmured. "Your arms are still tied." He slid his fingers around John's wrists as if to reassure him. "You still have the blindfold."
John fought the urge to twist away; it would be easier now that his lower body was free. But Rodney's hands left his wrists and moved back to his thighs, pushing them apart, and John heaved an unsteady sigh of relief as Rodney moved in between his legs.
"Yeah," he said, tilting his hips up as Rodney's hands curved around his ass. "Fuck me."
"Not today," Rodney said, settling down until he was pressed against John's body.
John's gasp was almost a sob; Rodney was all over him now, skin touching skin until John wasn't really sure where his body left off and Rodney's began.
"God, you're so...." Rodney whispered, and it made John feel a little less frightened to hear how shaky Rodney's voice was now.
Rodney began to move and John could feel his cock hard and damp against John's hip. His own cock was pressing against Rodney's skin and John was almost startled by the fact that he was achingly hard. Moaning, he pressed up against Rodney and for a moment or two, it was fantastic, better than even fucking would have been.
Only.... He wanted more. Or at least he thought he did, because it seemed to take an incredible amount of effort to move his legs. He didn't have to; he could tell that Rodney would be perfectly happy rubbing off against him.
"Closer," he blurted out and forced himself to slide his legs up and in, until they were wrapped around Rodney's hips.
"God, yes," Rodney groaned, resting more of his weight on John as he ran his hands up John's arms until he reached John's hands. "I'm...John...oh fuck...."
John spread his hands open and Rodney's fingers locked with his and as John pressed up, his whole body straining against Rodney's, Rodney pressed down until they were so close that the only movement they could manage was the eager thrust of their hips.
It was more than enough; John came with another sobbing gasp and Rodney was right there with him, spilling over John's hip as his fingers gripped John's with surprising strength.
When Rodney finally moved off John, the first thing he did was untie John's wrists. As his hands reached for the blindfold, John shook his head.
"Don't," he whispered, turning on his side and reaching for Rodney. "Not yet." He could almost feel Rodney's surprise, but the moment John moved closer, Rodney was there, pulling John into his arms and stroking his back as John clung to him.
"I...." John clung harder, hoping that Rodney would understand him even if he couldn't get the words out.
"It's all right," Rodney said, kissing John's temple. "You don't have to say anything."
But John did, he really did, and so he took a deep breath and tried again. "No one's ever made me feel like this." His voice was so low he could hardly hear it, but Rodney's arms tightened around him.
"I know," Rodney said, and if he'd been smug or self-satisfied, John would have probably hauled back and slugged him, but instead, he sounded infinitely grateful, and finally, John let himself relax, leaning into Rodney's touch.
end
Author: telesilla
Fandom/Pairing: SGA, John/Rodney
ficrocksthe80s Song Prompt: Sweet Things (Are Made of This)
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: The SGA characters do not belong to me. Duh.
Summary: Rodney ties John up in order to do something truly wicked to him.
Notes: This was originally going to be comment fic for sheafrotherdon"s Skin Hunger Challenge, but then it got long and I realized it actually fit my ficrocksthe80s prompt. Many thanks to helens78 not only for running this challenge with me, but for her excellent beta-fu.
Everybody's looking for something
Some of them want to use you
Some of them want to get used by you
Some of them want to abuse you
Some of them want to be abused
Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) -- Eurythmics
"Rodney...c'mon, do something." John knew he was whining, and for once he really didn't care.
"Hush," Rodney said. "Can you do this without talking?" John swallowed hard and heard a rustle that he hoped was Rodney undressing. The bed dipped as Rodney sat down on the edge of it, and John held his breath, waiting for Rodney to do something, anything.
That was why he was here after all, here on Rodney's bed with soft rope wrapped around his wrists and ankles and a silky black cloth tied over his eyes. In fact, he'd been the one to bring this up; once he and Rodney had tumbled into bed together and John had learned that Rodney was surprisingly good at manhandling John and pounding him into the mattress, bondage and maybe a little more seemed the natural next step.
In a somewhat surprising role reversal, John had laid it all out in detail and a rush of words, explaining that he'd done this before and that his limits were pretty high and that as long as they were where no one could see them, he liked having bruises and marks on him the next day. Rodney had listened and looked at him, his face taking on that look that usually meant he was about to figure out a new and brilliant way to save everyone's lives. John had found it both incredibly disturbing and utterly hot and when he'd squirmed, Rodney had just smiled a slow smile.
Now John was squirming again, arching and twisting as he tested the ropes. They held; Rodney knew what he was doing and John felt the tension inside him ratchet up further.
"Relax," Rodney said with a faint chuckle. "You have done this before, right?"
John would have glared if he hadn't been blindfolded. As it was, he snorted a little and arched again, this time doing his best to display himself.
"Nice," Rodney said. John felt the bed shift and held his breath again. Would Rodney pinch him? Slap him? Hell, for all John knew, Rodney had toys of some kind; after all, the ropes and scarf were his, not John's.
He all but jumped out of his skin when Rodney laid a hand on him. "Jesus," Rodney muttered as he stroked John's thigh. John swallowed hard, suddenly realizing that he hadn't said anything about verbal stuff. God, it'd be just like Rodney to have a humiliation kink.
"Shhhh...." Rodney stroked John again, using just enough pressure to keep it from tickling--and oh fuck, but he hadn't mentioned that he hated being tickled--but not enough pressure for it to be anything more than a caress.
John frowned.
Either Rodney didn't notice the frown or he didn't care; his hand moved lower, stroking John's knee, fingers careful as they traced the kneecap and under it. He kept going, and John shivered a little as Rodney's palm slid over John's calf muscle, his thumb tracing along the top of John's shin.
"I'm good," he says. "Really, you don't have to...."
Rodney silenced him with a hand over his mouth, and John shivered as warm, blunt fingers stroked his face. "I can do anything I want to you." He continued to explore John's face with one hand, while the other stroked the inside of John's arm. "It just so happens that this is what I want to do."
And touch by touch, caress by caress, Rodney took John apart. John didn't get it; he'd been spanked, slapped, hit with a belt and there had been one memorable occasion after which he'd never been able to look at clothespins the same way, but no one had ever tied him up just to touch him.
Nothing, none of the kinky games he'd played, had left him this open, made him this aware of just how vulnerable he was. Rodney touched him as if he rather than John were the one blindfolded, as if this was the only way Rodney could see him. No, that was wrong--Rodney touched John as if this were the only way Rodney could know him.
"Rodney," John gasped, twisting in the ropes. "I can't...." Can't give you this much, can't let you make me feel like this.
"Are you asking me to stop?" Rodney's fingers, which had been tracing what they could reach of the small bones of John's ankle, stilled.
"I...." If he hadn't been blindfolded, John would have said yes, but as it was, he took a deep breath and shook his head. He hadn't been touched like this in...well, to be honest, he'd never been touched like this.
Rodney was touching him as if John were something infinitely precious, as if every single bone and muscle and inch of skin held the secrets of the universe written on John's body for Rodney to read. It shouldn't have made John breath hitch and catch in his throat, shouldn't have been as devastating as it was, and yet he was shaking and--he could admit it if only to himself--terrified.
"Rodney," he said again, his voice soft and shaky. Startled, he clamped his teeth down to prevent any more words escaping.
"I know," Rodney said. "It's okay, you're tied up and you can't stop me. Just let it happen, John, just let me touch you. Let me give you what you need."
That, John realized as Rodney's hands continued taking him apart, was what made this so frightening. Rodney knew that this was the one thing John couldn't ask for, but John had no idea how he'd known that John needed it when John didn't even know himself. Or maybe it was just that John, who could ask to be hurt without batting an eyelash, hadn't wanted to admit to needing this.
He was so caught up in the feel of Rodney's hands on him that it took a moment to realize that Rodney had untied the ropes holding his ankles. They were still wrapped around him but no longer fastened to the bed.
"Don't...I can't...I won't be able to do this if you...."
"Shhh," Rodney murmured. "Your arms are still tied." He slid his fingers around John's wrists as if to reassure him. "You still have the blindfold."
John fought the urge to twist away; it would be easier now that his lower body was free. But Rodney's hands left his wrists and moved back to his thighs, pushing them apart, and John heaved an unsteady sigh of relief as Rodney moved in between his legs.
"Yeah," he said, tilting his hips up as Rodney's hands curved around his ass. "Fuck me."
"Not today," Rodney said, settling down until he was pressed against John's body.
John's gasp was almost a sob; Rodney was all over him now, skin touching skin until John wasn't really sure where his body left off and Rodney's began.
"God, you're so...." Rodney whispered, and it made John feel a little less frightened to hear how shaky Rodney's voice was now.
Rodney began to move and John could feel his cock hard and damp against John's hip. His own cock was pressing against Rodney's skin and John was almost startled by the fact that he was achingly hard. Moaning, he pressed up against Rodney and for a moment or two, it was fantastic, better than even fucking would have been.
Only.... He wanted more. Or at least he thought he did, because it seemed to take an incredible amount of effort to move his legs. He didn't have to; he could tell that Rodney would be perfectly happy rubbing off against him.
"Closer," he blurted out and forced himself to slide his legs up and in, until they were wrapped around Rodney's hips.
"God, yes," Rodney groaned, resting more of his weight on John as he ran his hands up John's arms until he reached John's hands. "I'm...John...oh fuck...."
John spread his hands open and Rodney's fingers locked with his and as John pressed up, his whole body straining against Rodney's, Rodney pressed down until they were so close that the only movement they could manage was the eager thrust of their hips.
It was more than enough; John came with another sobbing gasp and Rodney was right there with him, spilling over John's hip as his fingers gripped John's with surprising strength.
When Rodney finally moved off John, the first thing he did was untie John's wrists. As his hands reached for the blindfold, John shook his head.
"Don't," he whispered, turning on his side and reaching for Rodney. "Not yet." He could almost feel Rodney's surprise, but the moment John moved closer, Rodney was there, pulling John into his arms and stroking his back as John clung to him.
"I...." John clung harder, hoping that Rodney would understand him even if he couldn't get the words out.
"It's all right," Rodney said, kissing John's temple. "You don't have to say anything."
But John did, he really did, and so he took a deep breath and tried again. "No one's ever made me feel like this." His voice was so low he could hardly hear it, but Rodney's arms tightened around him.
"I know," Rodney said, and if he'd been smug or self-satisfied, John would have probably hauled back and slugged him, but instead, he sounded infinitely grateful, and finally, John let himself relax, leaning into Rodney's touch.
end