Easter Sunday Porn
We couldn't come up with a title for these, but thegrrrl2002 and I have written his and his porn fics. She wrote a terrifically sexy story about how much Rodney likes making John come. She sent it to me and when I got done squeeing, I observed that it needed an answsering part from John's POV.
She told me to get writing. She's bossy like that.
So I did.
I recommend reading Grrrl's story first.
Rodney likes making John come from
It makes him feel guilty, lying back and letting Rodney do all the work. It's not very guy-like, just giving it up like this, and John's never been able to that with anyone but Rodney.
Rodney gets this look on his face, all focused concentration. It's different from his, 'go away I'm trying to save us all from certain death' concentration. John doesn't know how he knows that, but he does. Maybe it's the way Rodney touches him like he's trying to tell John something, as if by turning his fingers and rubbing just there he can somehow share the secrets of the universe.
The thing is, it's Rodney, so maybe he can.
John shifts his hips, tightens his hands on the sheets, wishes he could spread his legs farther apart, that Rodney's fingers could somehow reach deeper into him. He shoves himself down, trying to tell Rodney all of it, to get Rodney in him.
Rodney leans down, licks the tip of his cock, startles a groan from him.
Rodney presses a kiss to John's stomach, rubs his lips across John's skin, and John trembles, as Rodney moves his fingers just right, and John's muscles contract around them, trying to keep Rodney right where he is.
He doesn't need to open his eyes to see Rodney, to see the pleasure that sparks in his eyes every time he does that to John, makes his body react, takes him outside himself.
John has never liked being outside himself. It's not the kind of risk he knows how to take.
Except somehow, with Rodney, he does. He's taken that risk so many times he's lost count, and yet here he is taking it again.
Rodney touches his chest, a smooth glide of fingers and palm and John wants to say "thank you." Except he doesn't know what he's thanking Rodney for. Unless it's taking him here, giving him this.
A pull on his nipple, sharp but still good.
"Rodney," John says, opening his eyes, "Come on, do it."
"What?" Rodney asks. It's a ridiculous question because the fingers in his ass tell John that Rodney already knows what. "What would you like?"
Rodney is the only one who has ever asked John that question. He's always been the asker, not the answserer, and it still throws him for a moment, makes him pause before saying, "Fuck."
"I can do that," Rodney says, sounding breathless and wanting. John thinks that's maybe that's why he lets Rodney do this, because it's as big a risk for Rodney as it is for John.
Sliding his legs around Rodney's waist, John pulls until his ass is in Rodney's lap. "I know."
Rodney's fumbling with the lube, and suddenly John doesn't care if there's lube on Rodney's cock or not, because there was lube on Rodney's fingers and now there's lube in him, and that's where Rodney needs to be, in John.
"Hold on," Rodney says, sliding his fingers from inside John, "Let me just--"
Lifting his leg so they're both on Rodney, John presses his heel against the small of Rodney's back, trying to get Rodney where he wants him.
"Would you just wait?"
No, John wants to say. Instead he grins and says, "Just getting comfy." He rubs his ass into Rodney's lap to make his point.
"Hold still," Rodney says, his hand closing around John's thigh.
But John knows this part, the teasing part, the part where he gets to push Rodney just a little, so he moves again, causing Rodney's cock to slide between his cheeks and nudge his hole.
"Oh," Rodney says.
"Yeah."
Then Rodney is there, finally, the blunt head of his cock opening John up. It's an easy slide into home after that, because John wants this, wants Rodney in him, wants Rodney in deep.
"Nnngh," Rodney says.
John knows exactly what he means. "I'm good. I'm really good," he says because Rodney needs to hear it, and because he is. Man, is he ever.
Rodney grins at him. "Me, too."
John snorts and says, "Yes, Rodney, you are," in just the right tone. He throws in an eye roll for good measure, because he doesn't know how to say it like he means it, even though he does. Rodney is good. Good at this. Good for John.
Rodney's thrust is sweet and easy, a gentle brush across that place. He cups John's ass in his hands and lifts, positioning John just right.
Wanting to help John moves his leg from Rodney's waist to his shoulder.
Another thrust and then another, each as giving as the last. John doesn't know what to do with this, with the things Rodney gives him. So he takes them and tucks them away inside, lets them warm him on the nights he's alone.
"Rodney." It slips out before John's ready. He grabs at Rodney's hands, pulls them from his ass, pulls Rodney down to where John can reach him.
He's bent in half, his knees caught on Rodney's arms, but it doesn't matter. He curls up, presses his lips to Rodney's, takes everything Rodney has to give him, tries to give it back.
Rodney starts to thrust, deep and strong, giving it all to John.
Sure he's telling Rodney everything, saying all the stuff he doesn't know the words for, John reaches for his cock. Rodney's eyes follow his hand, watching as John jerks himself, not knowing if it's the look on Rodney's face or the pleasure of his own hand that sends him over the edge.
He can feel himself tightening around Rodney's cock, and that's the best part of coming with Rodney inside him, feeling it like this. Feeling Rodney like this.
"John," Rodney says and he's coming too, cock pulsing, Rodney's pleasure released as molten heat inside of him.
"Whoa," John says, sliding his legs from Rodney's shoulders. Still lodged inside him, Rodney's cock twitches. Rubbing at his face, John says, "Fuck."
Nodding, Rodney shifts his hips back, easing his cock free. John wants to tell him to stay, but it's too late. He settles for pulling Rodney up against him, his fluids smearing Rodney's chest.
"Merry Christmas," Rodney mumbles, his mouth pressed to John's neck. "Happy Birthday. Happy Valentine's Day."
"What?" John laughs, sliding his fingers through Rodney's hair, just because he can.
"Hearts and flowers." It sounds like an accusation, but John has no idea what he's being accused of. Rodney lifts his head and looks down at him, but it isn't accusation John sees in Rodney's face.
"Yeah. Me too," John says. He still doesn't know what Christmas has to do with it, but he gets the hearts and flowers part, at least he thinks he does. "Pretty scary, huh?"
Rodney licks the sweat from John's temple, which makes John think that maybe Rodney has spent too much time with cats. "There's worse things," Rodney says.
There are. There are far worse things than being naked in bed with Rodney McKay. But then being in bed with Rodney is better than any Christmas John ever had and he wonders for a moment if that's what Rodney meant.
Or maybe he was trying to imitate Frosty.
Except Frosty said "Happy Birthday."
Not that it matters, because John is still out on that ledge, and its still the best risk he's ever taken. Cupping Rodney's cheek in his hand, John guides him into a kiss, letting his lips do the talking. Hoping Rodney gets the message.
She told me to get writing. She's bossy like that.
So I did.
I recommend reading Grrrl's story first.
Rodney likes making John come from
It makes him feel guilty, lying back and letting Rodney do all the work. It's not very guy-like, just giving it up like this, and John's never been able to that with anyone but Rodney.
Rodney gets this look on his face, all focused concentration. It's different from his, 'go away I'm trying to save us all from certain death' concentration. John doesn't know how he knows that, but he does. Maybe it's the way Rodney touches him like he's trying to tell John something, as if by turning his fingers and rubbing just there he can somehow share the secrets of the universe.
The thing is, it's Rodney, so maybe he can.
John shifts his hips, tightens his hands on the sheets, wishes he could spread his legs farther apart, that Rodney's fingers could somehow reach deeper into him. He shoves himself down, trying to tell Rodney all of it, to get Rodney in him.
Rodney leans down, licks the tip of his cock, startles a groan from him.
Rodney presses a kiss to John's stomach, rubs his lips across John's skin, and John trembles, as Rodney moves his fingers just right, and John's muscles contract around them, trying to keep Rodney right where he is.
He doesn't need to open his eyes to see Rodney, to see the pleasure that sparks in his eyes every time he does that to John, makes his body react, takes him outside himself.
John has never liked being outside himself. It's not the kind of risk he knows how to take.
Except somehow, with Rodney, he does. He's taken that risk so many times he's lost count, and yet here he is taking it again.
Rodney touches his chest, a smooth glide of fingers and palm and John wants to say "thank you." Except he doesn't know what he's thanking Rodney for. Unless it's taking him here, giving him this.
A pull on his nipple, sharp but still good.
"Rodney," John says, opening his eyes, "Come on, do it."
"What?" Rodney asks. It's a ridiculous question because the fingers in his ass tell John that Rodney already knows what. "What would you like?"
Rodney is the only one who has ever asked John that question. He's always been the asker, not the answserer, and it still throws him for a moment, makes him pause before saying, "Fuck."
"I can do that," Rodney says, sounding breathless and wanting. John thinks that's maybe that's why he lets Rodney do this, because it's as big a risk for Rodney as it is for John.
Sliding his legs around Rodney's waist, John pulls until his ass is in Rodney's lap. "I know."
Rodney's fumbling with the lube, and suddenly John doesn't care if there's lube on Rodney's cock or not, because there was lube on Rodney's fingers and now there's lube in him, and that's where Rodney needs to be, in John.
"Hold on," Rodney says, sliding his fingers from inside John, "Let me just--"
Lifting his leg so they're both on Rodney, John presses his heel against the small of Rodney's back, trying to get Rodney where he wants him.
"Would you just wait?"
No, John wants to say. Instead he grins and says, "Just getting comfy." He rubs his ass into Rodney's lap to make his point.
"Hold still," Rodney says, his hand closing around John's thigh.
But John knows this part, the teasing part, the part where he gets to push Rodney just a little, so he moves again, causing Rodney's cock to slide between his cheeks and nudge his hole.
"Oh," Rodney says.
"Yeah."
Then Rodney is there, finally, the blunt head of his cock opening John up. It's an easy slide into home after that, because John wants this, wants Rodney in him, wants Rodney in deep.
"Nnngh," Rodney says.
John knows exactly what he means. "I'm good. I'm really good," he says because Rodney needs to hear it, and because he is. Man, is he ever.
Rodney grins at him. "Me, too."
John snorts and says, "Yes, Rodney, you are," in just the right tone. He throws in an eye roll for good measure, because he doesn't know how to say it like he means it, even though he does. Rodney is good. Good at this. Good for John.
Rodney's thrust is sweet and easy, a gentle brush across that place. He cups John's ass in his hands and lifts, positioning John just right.
Wanting to help John moves his leg from Rodney's waist to his shoulder.
Another thrust and then another, each as giving as the last. John doesn't know what to do with this, with the things Rodney gives him. So he takes them and tucks them away inside, lets them warm him on the nights he's alone.
"Rodney." It slips out before John's ready. He grabs at Rodney's hands, pulls them from his ass, pulls Rodney down to where John can reach him.
He's bent in half, his knees caught on Rodney's arms, but it doesn't matter. He curls up, presses his lips to Rodney's, takes everything Rodney has to give him, tries to give it back.
Rodney starts to thrust, deep and strong, giving it all to John.
Sure he's telling Rodney everything, saying all the stuff he doesn't know the words for, John reaches for his cock. Rodney's eyes follow his hand, watching as John jerks himself, not knowing if it's the look on Rodney's face or the pleasure of his own hand that sends him over the edge.
He can feel himself tightening around Rodney's cock, and that's the best part of coming with Rodney inside him, feeling it like this. Feeling Rodney like this.
"John," Rodney says and he's coming too, cock pulsing, Rodney's pleasure released as molten heat inside of him.
"Whoa," John says, sliding his legs from Rodney's shoulders. Still lodged inside him, Rodney's cock twitches. Rubbing at his face, John says, "Fuck."
Nodding, Rodney shifts his hips back, easing his cock free. John wants to tell him to stay, but it's too late. He settles for pulling Rodney up against him, his fluids smearing Rodney's chest.
"Merry Christmas," Rodney mumbles, his mouth pressed to John's neck. "Happy Birthday. Happy Valentine's Day."
"What?" John laughs, sliding his fingers through Rodney's hair, just because he can.
"Hearts and flowers." It sounds like an accusation, but John has no idea what he's being accused of. Rodney lifts his head and looks down at him, but it isn't accusation John sees in Rodney's face.
"Yeah. Me too," John says. He still doesn't know what Christmas has to do with it, but he gets the hearts and flowers part, at least he thinks he does. "Pretty scary, huh?"
Rodney licks the sweat from John's temple, which makes John think that maybe Rodney has spent too much time with cats. "There's worse things," Rodney says.
There are. There are far worse things than being naked in bed with Rodney McKay. But then being in bed with Rodney is better than any Christmas John ever had and he wonders for a moment if that's what Rodney meant.
Or maybe he was trying to imitate Frosty.
Except Frosty said "Happy Birthday."
Not that it matters, because John is still out on that ledge, and its still the best risk he's ever taken. Cupping Rodney's cheek in his hand, John guides him into a kiss, letting his lips do the talking. Hoping Rodney gets the message.