Ficlet: First Times and Fear of Discovery
Title: First Times and Fear of Discovery
Pairing: John/Rodney
Rating: NC17
A/N: tesserae_ gave me a prompt for this, for which I thank her muchly.
*
The first time John kissed Rodney they were naked on John's bed, Rodney underneath him, their dicks sliding against each other between them, and Rodney was coming, hot and wet and obscene.
John bent his head, licked his way past the orgasm-grimace that twisted Rodney's lips, stroked Rodney's tongue with his own, and then came against Rodney's stomach.
It was the tenth time they'd done this. It was their eleventh kiss.
*
Fucking Rodney wasn't like anything John had ever known or done or been before in his life. There wasn't anything he could compare it to, nothing that came close to explaining the tightness and heat of being inside of him, the feel of him moving under John, or the sight of his face right there under John's.
It was something unique, something singular, and it overwhelmed John, made him come so undone that he couldn't come undone, couldn't come, and Rodney screamed around his fist through a second orgasm before John had to pull out, had to finish himself off by hand.
The second time, John pushed Rodney onto his stomach and it was easier but it was also less.
*
Even through the material of Rodney's pants, John could smell him: thick and bitter and musky and male. All of those things but none of those things, and he would have nosed the length of Rodney's covered dick for however long it took to find a word to describe the scent, but Rodney thrust his hips, made this needy sound at the back of his throat, and said, "Please."
So John unzipped him, pulled him out, and sucked him off, and when Rodney tugged at his hair, made noises that John knew meant he was close, so very close, John swallowed him down.
Rodney slid to the floor afterwards and reached for John, his hand stilling when he found the wet spot on the front of John's pants.
"That happen often?" Rodney gasped.
"No," John said defensively, and he didn't add that it had never happened before.
*
Rodney's dick inside of him made John break apart. It shattered him into a billion pieces, opened him up and tore him apart. But when Rodney moved John felt all those pieces draw back together, pull back in, and he knew he wasn't the same, wouldn't ever be the same, because Rodney being there, being in him, meant that nothing could fit back together the way it'd been before he shattered.
John buried his face in the pillow under him, and Rodney mouthed at the back of his neck, and John plucked words from his mind, lined them up to make sense, and they were waiting for him later, after, when he told Rodney that this was the first and last time he'd bottom.
*
At three in the morning John's watch beeped and he unfolded himself from the chair in Rodney's room and got to his feet. Rodney was asleep on the bed, naked and tangled in the sheets, his limbs flung out in such a way that there was room on the small bed for John to slide back in.
John whispered to Rodney's sleeping form, for the fifteenth time, "I love you."
Then he froze, went still and quiet, his heart pounding. But, no, there was no movement, nothing at all from Rodney, and John relaxed.
*
.End
And now I go watch more S2. *squishes my Vi*
Pairing: John/Rodney
Rating: NC17
A/N: tesserae_ gave me a prompt for this, for which I thank her muchly.
*
The first time John kissed Rodney they were naked on John's bed, Rodney underneath him, their dicks sliding against each other between them, and Rodney was coming, hot and wet and obscene.
John bent his head, licked his way past the orgasm-grimace that twisted Rodney's lips, stroked Rodney's tongue with his own, and then came against Rodney's stomach.
It was the tenth time they'd done this. It was their eleventh kiss.
*
Fucking Rodney wasn't like anything John had ever known or done or been before in his life. There wasn't anything he could compare it to, nothing that came close to explaining the tightness and heat of being inside of him, the feel of him moving under John, or the sight of his face right there under John's.
It was something unique, something singular, and it overwhelmed John, made him come so undone that he couldn't come undone, couldn't come, and Rodney screamed around his fist through a second orgasm before John had to pull out, had to finish himself off by hand.
The second time, John pushed Rodney onto his stomach and it was easier but it was also less.
*
Even through the material of Rodney's pants, John could smell him: thick and bitter and musky and male. All of those things but none of those things, and he would have nosed the length of Rodney's covered dick for however long it took to find a word to describe the scent, but Rodney thrust his hips, made this needy sound at the back of his throat, and said, "Please."
So John unzipped him, pulled him out, and sucked him off, and when Rodney tugged at his hair, made noises that John knew meant he was close, so very close, John swallowed him down.
Rodney slid to the floor afterwards and reached for John, his hand stilling when he found the wet spot on the front of John's pants.
"That happen often?" Rodney gasped.
"No," John said defensively, and he didn't add that it had never happened before.
*
Rodney's dick inside of him made John break apart. It shattered him into a billion pieces, opened him up and tore him apart. But when Rodney moved John felt all those pieces draw back together, pull back in, and he knew he wasn't the same, wouldn't ever be the same, because Rodney being there, being in him, meant that nothing could fit back together the way it'd been before he shattered.
John buried his face in the pillow under him, and Rodney mouthed at the back of his neck, and John plucked words from his mind, lined them up to make sense, and they were waiting for him later, after, when he told Rodney that this was the first and last time he'd bottom.
*
At three in the morning John's watch beeped and he unfolded himself from the chair in Rodney's room and got to his feet. Rodney was asleep on the bed, naked and tangled in the sheets, his limbs flung out in such a way that there was room on the small bed for John to slide back in.
John whispered to Rodney's sleeping form, for the fifteenth time, "I love you."
Then he froze, went still and quiet, his heart pounding. But, no, there was no movement, nothing at all from Rodney, and John relaxed.
*
.End
And now I go watch more S2. *squishes my Vi*