FIC: In Somnium Veritas (SGA, John/Rodney, NC-17)
In Somnium Veritas
Author:
hily &
telesilla
Fandom/Pairing: SGA, John/Rodney
Rating: NC-17
Contains: ( skip) sex while one partner is asleep, tentacle fantasy
Word Count: ~2,800
Disclaimer: The SGA characters do not belong to me. Duh.
Summary: It's been a long, hard, hot day and John just wants to check in on Rodney.
Notes: For once this is an SGA fic from us that's not set in our Long Long Road universe. We can't help it; sometimes we just have to cheat on those guys. :) The title means "In Dreams, the Truth." This is for the "Sleepy/Unconscious" square on our Kink Bing card.
The heat has been unbearable all day. John had, before the end of it, managed to sweat through his shirt, and everybody's been thirsty, tired and bitchy. It's been all John could do to avoid snapping at everyone he's crossed paths with, and he knows for a fact that Rodney...well, Rodney's not very good at avoiding snapping at people on a good day.
But it's over now, and John's showered and cooled off and returned to feeling more like a human being, and he stops by Rodney's room to make sure Rodney's done the same. It'd be just like him to sit there working calculations all night, as if by math alone he can figure out how to prevent this in the future.
It is Rodney, after all. If anyone could pull that off, it'd be him.
"Rodney?" he calls through the door, tapping on it. "C'mon, don't tell me you're eyeball-deep in calculations, give it a rest." When there's no answer, he slides the door open and steps inside.
Rodney is not, in fact, working calculations. He's not even conscious. Or dressed, for that matter. His hair is still damp from a shower, and he's face-planted on the bed, sprawled out on top of the blanket, completely naked. John's cock is filling before he can even fully register the tableau.
Rodney, he thinks as he starts undressing, how is it possible to have that fine an ass? He peels his clothes off and sets them into a chair, not really wanting to mess with them after the sex is over. It doesn't bother him a bit that he's wandered into Rodney's quarters uninvited and is now getting ready to get into bed with him (and into him, for that matter). This is how they roll.
He approaches the bed from the foot end of it and crawls up along Rodney's body until he's draped alongside, and then he can't resist skimming his hand up along the back of a thigh to cup that fantastic ass in his palm.
Rodney's not really sure why the small purple monkey that looks a lot like Radek but sounds more like a mockingbird is trying to climb up the back of his leg, but he really wishes he could get back to the part of the dream--because he always knows when he's dreaming and when he's not--where there was an unexpected all you can eat breakfast buffet in the gateroom.
"Mmmmm," he mumbles, batting at the monkey. "Waffles...."
John snorts softly. Waffles? he wonders, but waffles are for another time. He ignores the swatting hand and keeps rubbing, almost kneading, and then he just presses up against Rodney, cock already hard. He nestles it against Rodney's backside, biting his lip to stifle a soft groan. Maybe it isn't entirely kosher to be thinking he'd like to be fucking Rodney right now, regardless of Rodney's obviously meal-oriented state of subconsciousness. John can't help it, though. Rodney utterly relaxed is a serious treat, and John has a sneaking suspicion Rodney will forgive him the...intrusion.
The waffles are gone though, and Rodney's confused, although he's pretty sure the monkey took them away. Damn monkeys, always taking his food. But it's okay because he's in the control chair and it's a lot more comfortable than it was the last time he sat in it...kinda like one of those powered massage chairs that show up in science fiction stories, the ones that can pinpoint all the places you want pressure. He squirms a little as the chair wraps itself around him and even kind of nuzzles him a little. He knows John's the City's favorite but maybe the chair liked Rodney too.
"Nice chair...."
Okay, John's not going to try to follow the bouncing subconscious anymore. Rodney's enjoying himself, and that's all that matters. John leans up to grab lube from the little sliding compartment by the nightstand and then has to struggle to get it open without spilling it all over either Rodney or the bed. He presses a kiss to Rodney's shoulder, trying to be efficient with the lube while he wets his fingers, and then he's pressing up against Rodney's back again, slowly working his way in, breath going shaky as he feels how relaxed Rodney already is.
Wow, Rodney thinks, Atlantis really does like me. And okay, the freaky tentacles are a bit much, but then Rodney's always had this little anime thing that he's never really confessed to anyone, so fuck it, it's good.
And then, just like that, Rodney's mental landscape flips and Dreaming becomes Not Dreaming and there's still something up his ass and he really should snap at John and let him know that he's awake and not sure he appreciates being molested in his sleep even by his incredibly hot soldier boyfriend.
Only John's being quiet. Not that that's unusual, John's not exactly a screamer, but he's usually breathless and, okay, not so much with the elegant, but sometimes he grunts sort of softly. It's actually kind of hot in Rodney's opinion; there's something honest about it, like he's just being John and not trying to be porny. And he's not doing any of that right now, which kind of implies that he doesn't acutally want to wake Rodney up.
Maybe this is like the anime thing, maybe John likes the idea of fucking Rodney in his sleep.
Rodney ponders it for a moment more and then tries to think of something off the wall, because talking in his sleep is pretty standard for him. It's hard, though, hard to be random and the first thing that pops to mind isn't sexy.
"Stock market," he mumbles as he twists just a little to give John a better angle.
At that, John lets out a huffed, breathy laugh. He's made jokes in the past about wishing he could find some piece of Ancient tech that enables him to be a fly on Rodney's mental wall; between the very strict physics and the engineering stuff, it would be one hell of a ride. John presses in two fingers, working them in slowly in short, digging pulses, and he can't help a quiet noise into Rodney's hair. This is completely transgressive, and it's entirely possible that Rodney will be pissed at him later. John shoves the thought aside and works his fingers in deeper.
Rodney manages a little mumbly sigh. It's weird--usually at this stage he'd be pushing hard on John's fingers and telling him to stop messing around with prep and just do it. But now, he thinks he's supposed to just lie here and take it and it's surprisingly hard to do. He wants John in him now, but instead, he shifts a little, drawing a knee up to his chest and relaxing.
That just opens everything right up, and John nudges his cock against Rodney's ass again and lets out one of his soft, open-mouthed grunts. By now, Rodney would be demanding cock already, and John sort of likes taking his time. He pushes in three fingers, twisting them a little, wondering what Rodney's dreaming about now.
He kind of misses the tentacle dream and if that makes him a freak, well, Rodney's okay with that. After all, it turns out his boyfriend likes fucking him while he's asleep, so maybe they can be freaks together. In fact....
"Ohhhh," he murmurs. "Tentacles...."
John blinks. "Tentacles," in terms of making sense, is right up there with Rodney trying to swat a waffle off his ass. Maybe it's something he saw in one of his sci-fi movies. In any case, John distracts himself from it for a minute, feeling the way Rodney loosens around his fingers--and then it hits him exactly what Rodney's dreaming about. He groans shortly, dropping his forehead to Rodney's shoulder and pulling his fingers out. It's a few seconds of fumbling around with the position before John can get himself lined up right, and then he's pushing in, cheek pressed to Rodney's back, and he hopes he's not going overboard when he wraps his clean hand around Rodney's wrist, trying to feed the dream.
The thing about John isn't just that he's secretly brilliant, although God knows, that's part of the appeal, it's that he's intuitive in a way Rodney often isn't. Rodney's not sure he would have figured the tentacle thing out so quickly, but he's damn glad John did and even more glad that John seems to find it hot.
Rodney twists, just a little, just enough so that it could be still conceivably be part of some porny dream, and wow, but that grip around his wrist is more than a little hot. Behind his closed eyes, he's seeing John surrounded by tentacles...maybe something Ancient that John would be controlling with his brain, and yeah, that's totally doing it for him. This time when he moans, it's not just for effect.
John's breaths have gone shaky and uneven now, and he's trying to be easy while he fucks Rodney, but he's picturing one of those funky cartoons with the big gnarly tentacled monsters, and he's seeing Rodney strung up the way they always do to girls, spread-eagle with throbbing, slick appendages swirling and twisting around him, pushing into him, wrapped around his cock. He lets out another noise, tightening his hand on Rodney's wrist and moving his hips faster, cock digging into Rodney in short, deep pulses.
And now Rodney really hopes they're on the same page because he just can't pretend to be asleep any longer. But he can, he hopes, remain passive.
"Tell me," he murmurs, his voice hoarse, "that you're thinking about tentacle monsters right now." And God, now that he's officially awake, he wants to just shove back against John until John can't help but fuck him hard. But no, he wouldn't have any control over tentacles, would he?
"I'm thinking about tentacle monsters right now," John agrees, breathless--and yeah, it's a relief to know Rodney's awake, because now he has to sink his teeth into Rodney's shoulder and really fuck him, pinning that wrist to the bed while he gasps and huffs against Rodney's skin, and he couldn't do all that if he were still trying to avoid waking a sleeping Rodney. He'll wonder later just how long Rodney was awake, but right now he could care less.
"Good thoughts?" Rodney can't help asking, although really, the way John's just pounding him into the bed is a pretty good indications that tentacle monsters are a go. "God...maybe the tentacle monster is doing me in my sleep...oh fuck...do you want me to not move?" In spite of his usual penchant for fucking back, for being, as John once put it, the pushiest bottom in two galaxies, Rodney's finding keeping still to be pretty intense.
"Did you like me like that? All...oh fuck...easy and still?"
It's always a good indicator of extremely hot sex when Rodney won't be quiet. "Shut up," John huffs out, and he lets go of Rodney's wrist and shoves two fingers into his mouth. He bites Rodney again, giving a slow grind as a kind of warning that he'll stop if Rodney keeps being so damned chatty. When he resumes fucking, it's hard, sharp thrusts, almost all the way out before he shoves back in again.
Rodney immediately sucks on John's fingers as he does his best to just lie there and take it. It's good, so good it shocks him; he can't do anything but feel the hard, hot pressure of John's cock inside him and God, but John's giving it to him just the way he likes it. Closing his eyes, he imagines that the fingers in his mouth are a tentacle, taking him the way John's dick is taking him, and he makes sure to suck harder as he turns his head just a little, like maybe he's fighting it because it feels so good.
That's exactly what John was going for. He's trying to remember if the sense of control has ever felt just like this, and he doesn't think it has. He totally has Rodney right now, and it's awesome. John can feel himself getting closer, and he bites again, trying to stifle the human noises that want to leak out of his throat as he fucks Rodney into the bed.
As much as he wants to hold out, Rodney's too close and it's all too much. He twists a little more under John, sucks John's fingers a little harder and comes hard with the image of tentacles in his mind. Maybe, he thinks as he shudders through the aftershocks, John will just keep fucking him.
John's close, though, too close to keep going on for very long. "Fuck," he grunts out, and something about the way Rodney's moving, like it's just this side of too much, just does him in. He manages another handful of shaky, shuddery thrusts, and then he's coming, open mouth pressed to Rodney's nape, eyes squeezed shut as he pictures alien come leaking down Rodney's thigh, the tentacles finally relaxing now that they're through using him. "Fucking hell."
"Yeah," Rodney says, still a little breathless as John's fingers slide out of his mouth. "What you said." He kisses John's damp fingertips and then chuckles a little. "I should be mad at you, you know, for interrupting my sleep and my attempt to enjoy an all you can eat breakfast buffet in the gate room."
In the process of pulling out, John snorts out a laugh. "Damn, Rodney. Well, I guess that's as reasonable as tentacle beasts raping you. How long were you awake?"
"I dunno...one minute I was in the chair and thinking how Atlantis really must like me because there were tentacles and then the next minute I was awake and your fingers up were my ass." Rodney shifts over a little and gropes around on the floor. He finds a t-shirt and tosses it back to John for clean up.
"When I said 'stock market?' I was awake then." He pauses and then looks over his shoulder. "So, how long have you had this thing about fucking sleeping people?"
John checks his watch. "About seventeen minutes," he admits. "I came in to make sure you weren't doing math instead of unwinding, and, well, there was your ass." He gives that ass a light swat and pushes up to clean himself off a little. "How long have you had a thing about monsters fucking you?"
"Wait," Rodney stares at John. "I give up one of my long standing, carefully guarded, secret kinks in exchange for something you haven't even been into for an hour?" He drops his head down and thumps it on the mattress muttering something about novice perverts.
"Oh, please." John straddles Rodney's hips and rolls him over onto his back, giving his shoulders a little shake. "Because I do that kind of shit on purpose, right?" He rolls his eyes and drops down to kiss Rodney firmly. "I just grew a new kink because of you, and you're giving me crap about it?"
"Well," Rodney says, after a pause to kiss John back, "I guess it's okay. And in answer to your question, since college. It's not like...a fetish where I think about it all the time. It's just...you know...a fantasy thing."
Rodney doesn't bother very often with something like embarrassment, and when it hits him, John feels like he'll do anything to take that look off Rodney's face. He settles down next to Rodney and kisses him again, slower this time. "I'm not making fun of you, Rodney," he promises. "I liked it. It was hot."
"Yeah?" But Rodney doesn't really have to ask. He's heard John lie and heard John bullshit and even occasionally heard John say things just to make people feel better and right now, John's being honest. "Okay," he says. "Thanks."
John lets that settle for a minute, and then he tucks his arm up under his head, watching Rodney. "So was I doing it right?" he says after a pause. "You know, grabbing your wrist and all that?"
"Yeah," Rodney says. "That was good, really good. And your fingers in my mouth...you ever think of tying me up?"
Now it's John's turn to glance away. "Couple times," he admits. "It was usually...well, you'll probably think it's stupid, but usually I want to tie you up after some bad shit's happened to us, we just got captured, blah blah, paging Dr. Freud." He rolls his eyes at himself, flushing a little.
"Hey...." Rodney reaches out and runs his fingers through John's hair. "That's acutally...I dunno, kind of romantic. In, you know, a kind of freaky, vaguely dysfunctional way that suits both of us." He's never pretended to be good at relationships and he knows that John's not much better, and yet, here they are.
Grinning, John nods. "Yeah, I guess it does. So maybe next time, I can tie you up and we can both be pretending it's tentacles instead of one of us pretending he's asleep."
"Works for me."
-end-
crossposted from http://telesilla.dreamwidth.org/171093.html |
comments | you can comment at my DW using OpenID
Author:
hily &
telesilla
Fandom/Pairing: SGA, John/Rodney
Rating: NC-17
Contains: ( skip) sex while one partner is asleep, tentacle fantasy
Word Count: ~2,800
Disclaimer: The SGA characters do not belong to me. Duh.
Summary: It's been a long, hard, hot day and John just wants to check in on Rodney.
Notes: For once this is an SGA fic from us that's not set in our Long Long Road universe. We can't help it; sometimes we just have to cheat on those guys. :) The title means "In Dreams, the Truth." This is for the "Sleepy/Unconscious" square on our Kink Bing card.
The heat has been unbearable all day. John had, before the end of it, managed to sweat through his shirt, and everybody's been thirsty, tired and bitchy. It's been all John could do to avoid snapping at everyone he's crossed paths with, and he knows for a fact that Rodney...well, Rodney's not very good at avoiding snapping at people on a good day.
But it's over now, and John's showered and cooled off and returned to feeling more like a human being, and he stops by Rodney's room to make sure Rodney's done the same. It'd be just like him to sit there working calculations all night, as if by math alone he can figure out how to prevent this in the future.
It is Rodney, after all. If anyone could pull that off, it'd be him.
"Rodney?" he calls through the door, tapping on it. "C'mon, don't tell me you're eyeball-deep in calculations, give it a rest." When there's no answer, he slides the door open and steps inside.
Rodney is not, in fact, working calculations. He's not even conscious. Or dressed, for that matter. His hair is still damp from a shower, and he's face-planted on the bed, sprawled out on top of the blanket, completely naked. John's cock is filling before he can even fully register the tableau.
Rodney, he thinks as he starts undressing, how is it possible to have that fine an ass? He peels his clothes off and sets them into a chair, not really wanting to mess with them after the sex is over. It doesn't bother him a bit that he's wandered into Rodney's quarters uninvited and is now getting ready to get into bed with him (and into him, for that matter). This is how they roll.
He approaches the bed from the foot end of it and crawls up along Rodney's body until he's draped alongside, and then he can't resist skimming his hand up along the back of a thigh to cup that fantastic ass in his palm.
Rodney's not really sure why the small purple monkey that looks a lot like Radek but sounds more like a mockingbird is trying to climb up the back of his leg, but he really wishes he could get back to the part of the dream--because he always knows when he's dreaming and when he's not--where there was an unexpected all you can eat breakfast buffet in the gateroom.
"Mmmmm," he mumbles, batting at the monkey. "Waffles...."
John snorts softly. Waffles? he wonders, but waffles are for another time. He ignores the swatting hand and keeps rubbing, almost kneading, and then he just presses up against Rodney, cock already hard. He nestles it against Rodney's backside, biting his lip to stifle a soft groan. Maybe it isn't entirely kosher to be thinking he'd like to be fucking Rodney right now, regardless of Rodney's obviously meal-oriented state of subconsciousness. John can't help it, though. Rodney utterly relaxed is a serious treat, and John has a sneaking suspicion Rodney will forgive him the...intrusion.
The waffles are gone though, and Rodney's confused, although he's pretty sure the monkey took them away. Damn monkeys, always taking his food. But it's okay because he's in the control chair and it's a lot more comfortable than it was the last time he sat in it...kinda like one of those powered massage chairs that show up in science fiction stories, the ones that can pinpoint all the places you want pressure. He squirms a little as the chair wraps itself around him and even kind of nuzzles him a little. He knows John's the City's favorite but maybe the chair liked Rodney too.
"Nice chair...."
Okay, John's not going to try to follow the bouncing subconscious anymore. Rodney's enjoying himself, and that's all that matters. John leans up to grab lube from the little sliding compartment by the nightstand and then has to struggle to get it open without spilling it all over either Rodney or the bed. He presses a kiss to Rodney's shoulder, trying to be efficient with the lube while he wets his fingers, and then he's pressing up against Rodney's back again, slowly working his way in, breath going shaky as he feels how relaxed Rodney already is.
Wow, Rodney thinks, Atlantis really does like me. And okay, the freaky tentacles are a bit much, but then Rodney's always had this little anime thing that he's never really confessed to anyone, so fuck it, it's good.
And then, just like that, Rodney's mental landscape flips and Dreaming becomes Not Dreaming and there's still something up his ass and he really should snap at John and let him know that he's awake and not sure he appreciates being molested in his sleep even by his incredibly hot soldier boyfriend.
Only John's being quiet. Not that that's unusual, John's not exactly a screamer, but he's usually breathless and, okay, not so much with the elegant, but sometimes he grunts sort of softly. It's actually kind of hot in Rodney's opinion; there's something honest about it, like he's just being John and not trying to be porny. And he's not doing any of that right now, which kind of implies that he doesn't acutally want to wake Rodney up.
Maybe this is like the anime thing, maybe John likes the idea of fucking Rodney in his sleep.
Rodney ponders it for a moment more and then tries to think of something off the wall, because talking in his sleep is pretty standard for him. It's hard, though, hard to be random and the first thing that pops to mind isn't sexy.
"Stock market," he mumbles as he twists just a little to give John a better angle.
At that, John lets out a huffed, breathy laugh. He's made jokes in the past about wishing he could find some piece of Ancient tech that enables him to be a fly on Rodney's mental wall; between the very strict physics and the engineering stuff, it would be one hell of a ride. John presses in two fingers, working them in slowly in short, digging pulses, and he can't help a quiet noise into Rodney's hair. This is completely transgressive, and it's entirely possible that Rodney will be pissed at him later. John shoves the thought aside and works his fingers in deeper.
Rodney manages a little mumbly sigh. It's weird--usually at this stage he'd be pushing hard on John's fingers and telling him to stop messing around with prep and just do it. But now, he thinks he's supposed to just lie here and take it and it's surprisingly hard to do. He wants John in him now, but instead, he shifts a little, drawing a knee up to his chest and relaxing.
That just opens everything right up, and John nudges his cock against Rodney's ass again and lets out one of his soft, open-mouthed grunts. By now, Rodney would be demanding cock already, and John sort of likes taking his time. He pushes in three fingers, twisting them a little, wondering what Rodney's dreaming about now.
He kind of misses the tentacle dream and if that makes him a freak, well, Rodney's okay with that. After all, it turns out his boyfriend likes fucking him while he's asleep, so maybe they can be freaks together. In fact....
"Ohhhh," he murmurs. "Tentacles...."
John blinks. "Tentacles," in terms of making sense, is right up there with Rodney trying to swat a waffle off his ass. Maybe it's something he saw in one of his sci-fi movies. In any case, John distracts himself from it for a minute, feeling the way Rodney loosens around his fingers--and then it hits him exactly what Rodney's dreaming about. He groans shortly, dropping his forehead to Rodney's shoulder and pulling his fingers out. It's a few seconds of fumbling around with the position before John can get himself lined up right, and then he's pushing in, cheek pressed to Rodney's back, and he hopes he's not going overboard when he wraps his clean hand around Rodney's wrist, trying to feed the dream.
The thing about John isn't just that he's secretly brilliant, although God knows, that's part of the appeal, it's that he's intuitive in a way Rodney often isn't. Rodney's not sure he would have figured the tentacle thing out so quickly, but he's damn glad John did and even more glad that John seems to find it hot.
Rodney twists, just a little, just enough so that it could be still conceivably be part of some porny dream, and wow, but that grip around his wrist is more than a little hot. Behind his closed eyes, he's seeing John surrounded by tentacles...maybe something Ancient that John would be controlling with his brain, and yeah, that's totally doing it for him. This time when he moans, it's not just for effect.
John's breaths have gone shaky and uneven now, and he's trying to be easy while he fucks Rodney, but he's picturing one of those funky cartoons with the big gnarly tentacled monsters, and he's seeing Rodney strung up the way they always do to girls, spread-eagle with throbbing, slick appendages swirling and twisting around him, pushing into him, wrapped around his cock. He lets out another noise, tightening his hand on Rodney's wrist and moving his hips faster, cock digging into Rodney in short, deep pulses.
And now Rodney really hopes they're on the same page because he just can't pretend to be asleep any longer. But he can, he hopes, remain passive.
"Tell me," he murmurs, his voice hoarse, "that you're thinking about tentacle monsters right now." And God, now that he's officially awake, he wants to just shove back against John until John can't help but fuck him hard. But no, he wouldn't have any control over tentacles, would he?
"I'm thinking about tentacle monsters right now," John agrees, breathless--and yeah, it's a relief to know Rodney's awake, because now he has to sink his teeth into Rodney's shoulder and really fuck him, pinning that wrist to the bed while he gasps and huffs against Rodney's skin, and he couldn't do all that if he were still trying to avoid waking a sleeping Rodney. He'll wonder later just how long Rodney was awake, but right now he could care less.
"Good thoughts?" Rodney can't help asking, although really, the way John's just pounding him into the bed is a pretty good indications that tentacle monsters are a go. "God...maybe the tentacle monster is doing me in my sleep...oh fuck...do you want me to not move?" In spite of his usual penchant for fucking back, for being, as John once put it, the pushiest bottom in two galaxies, Rodney's finding keeping still to be pretty intense.
"Did you like me like that? All...oh fuck...easy and still?"
It's always a good indicator of extremely hot sex when Rodney won't be quiet. "Shut up," John huffs out, and he lets go of Rodney's wrist and shoves two fingers into his mouth. He bites Rodney again, giving a slow grind as a kind of warning that he'll stop if Rodney keeps being so damned chatty. When he resumes fucking, it's hard, sharp thrusts, almost all the way out before he shoves back in again.
Rodney immediately sucks on John's fingers as he does his best to just lie there and take it. It's good, so good it shocks him; he can't do anything but feel the hard, hot pressure of John's cock inside him and God, but John's giving it to him just the way he likes it. Closing his eyes, he imagines that the fingers in his mouth are a tentacle, taking him the way John's dick is taking him, and he makes sure to suck harder as he turns his head just a little, like maybe he's fighting it because it feels so good.
That's exactly what John was going for. He's trying to remember if the sense of control has ever felt just like this, and he doesn't think it has. He totally has Rodney right now, and it's awesome. John can feel himself getting closer, and he bites again, trying to stifle the human noises that want to leak out of his throat as he fucks Rodney into the bed.
As much as he wants to hold out, Rodney's too close and it's all too much. He twists a little more under John, sucks John's fingers a little harder and comes hard with the image of tentacles in his mind. Maybe, he thinks as he shudders through the aftershocks, John will just keep fucking him.
John's close, though, too close to keep going on for very long. "Fuck," he grunts out, and something about the way Rodney's moving, like it's just this side of too much, just does him in. He manages another handful of shaky, shuddery thrusts, and then he's coming, open mouth pressed to Rodney's nape, eyes squeezed shut as he pictures alien come leaking down Rodney's thigh, the tentacles finally relaxing now that they're through using him. "Fucking hell."
"Yeah," Rodney says, still a little breathless as John's fingers slide out of his mouth. "What you said." He kisses John's damp fingertips and then chuckles a little. "I should be mad at you, you know, for interrupting my sleep and my attempt to enjoy an all you can eat breakfast buffet in the gate room."
In the process of pulling out, John snorts out a laugh. "Damn, Rodney. Well, I guess that's as reasonable as tentacle beasts raping you. How long were you awake?"
"I dunno...one minute I was in the chair and thinking how Atlantis really must like me because there were tentacles and then the next minute I was awake and your fingers up were my ass." Rodney shifts over a little and gropes around on the floor. He finds a t-shirt and tosses it back to John for clean up.
"When I said 'stock market?' I was awake then." He pauses and then looks over his shoulder. "So, how long have you had this thing about fucking sleeping people?"
John checks his watch. "About seventeen minutes," he admits. "I came in to make sure you weren't doing math instead of unwinding, and, well, there was your ass." He gives that ass a light swat and pushes up to clean himself off a little. "How long have you had a thing about monsters fucking you?"
"Wait," Rodney stares at John. "I give up one of my long standing, carefully guarded, secret kinks in exchange for something you haven't even been into for an hour?" He drops his head down and thumps it on the mattress muttering something about novice perverts.
"Oh, please." John straddles Rodney's hips and rolls him over onto his back, giving his shoulders a little shake. "Because I do that kind of shit on purpose, right?" He rolls his eyes and drops down to kiss Rodney firmly. "I just grew a new kink because of you, and you're giving me crap about it?"
"Well," Rodney says, after a pause to kiss John back, "I guess it's okay. And in answer to your question, since college. It's not like...a fetish where I think about it all the time. It's just...you know...a fantasy thing."
Rodney doesn't bother very often with something like embarrassment, and when it hits him, John feels like he'll do anything to take that look off Rodney's face. He settles down next to Rodney and kisses him again, slower this time. "I'm not making fun of you, Rodney," he promises. "I liked it. It was hot."
"Yeah?" But Rodney doesn't really have to ask. He's heard John lie and heard John bullshit and even occasionally heard John say things just to make people feel better and right now, John's being honest. "Okay," he says. "Thanks."
John lets that settle for a minute, and then he tucks his arm up under his head, watching Rodney. "So was I doing it right?" he says after a pause. "You know, grabbing your wrist and all that?"
"Yeah," Rodney says. "That was good, really good. And your fingers in my mouth...you ever think of tying me up?"
Now it's John's turn to glance away. "Couple times," he admits. "It was usually...well, you'll probably think it's stupid, but usually I want to tie you up after some bad shit's happened to us, we just got captured, blah blah, paging Dr. Freud." He rolls his eyes at himself, flushing a little.
"Hey...." Rodney reaches out and runs his fingers through John's hair. "That's acutally...I dunno, kind of romantic. In, you know, a kind of freaky, vaguely dysfunctional way that suits both of us." He's never pretended to be good at relationships and he knows that John's not much better, and yet, here they are.
Grinning, John nods. "Yeah, I guess it does. So maybe next time, I can tie you up and we can both be pretending it's tentacles instead of one of us pretending he's asleep."
"Works for me."
-end-
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