Fic: SHAKE, RATTLE AND ROLL (nc-17)
This is for mezzo_cammin's birthday (a little late but with the best of intentions) and for BJF Elvis titles! Just a bit of silly, porny fun.
John and Rodney of course. Thank you mischief5 for looking this over. Mistakes as always = mine.
John didn’t do blowjobs. More accurately, he didn’t reciprocate. He loved getting a blowjob. Hey, he was a guy, of course he did. He loved the wet, hot suction of an eager mouth -- the deeper, the better. But when it came to his turn to get on his knees, his inner eww took over.
Not that John outright refused but he’d fumble around in pretense, gag and spit a few times, until his current partner finally got frustrated enough to say, “Hell, just give me a handjob and we’ll call it even.”
Handjobs, John could do. He’d even developed a few excellent wrists muscles in the process.
Except…he’d gotten comfortable with Rodney and forgotten to put the black wristband back on after his shower. Stupid, stupid, stupid. They were only ten minutes into the movie when Rodney grabbed his naked wrist. It was just the two of them, sitting on John’s bed, in what was supposed to be two buddies unwinding after a long, unproductive day. Just…you know, buddies, watching a movie, together.
John took one look at Rodney’s face and caught his breath.
“So.” Rodney paused. He stared down at John’s wrist with a thoughtful expression on his face. “Show me.”
“I. You. Really? John put his hand on Rodney’s thigh and did his damnest to look hopeful. “Do you want me to, you know, to you?”
“Hmm. Keep that thought in mind. We’ll get to that later. Right now, I want you to, shall we say, demonstrate on yourself.” Rodney leaned forward his voice gruff and low. “Show me how you like it.”
“God, Rodney, you can’t just say stuff like that.”
“Yes. I can. Do it for me, John.”
John tried to draw in enough air to breathe. Rodney was looking at him, face flushed and eyes bright; his breathing was unsteady, but his hand trailed up the inside of John’s leg on a determined course.
Suddenly, John couldn’t wait to get his fly open and show Rodney his cock. He fumbled his pants open, swearing softly when the zipper broke.
Rodney was so close now that John could smell the clean male scent of him and his cock hardened in his palm before he could even get off a stroke.
“Do you like it hard and fast, or slow and dirty, John? Touch yourself. Show me what gets you off.” Rodney kept one hand curled around John’s wrist and spoke softly in John’s ear, intense, gritty, and without mercy. “Teach me how to touch you.”
John whimpered.
He’d done this countless times. To himself, to others, and he’d gotten better than proficient over the years. He’d been a goddamn expert at the fast and dirty handjob but this - this was so different with McKay at his elbow, breathing hot against his neck.
John knew Rodney wasn’t missing a squeeze or stroke of John’s hand on his cock, and that every soft thwap of skin against skin was going into some mental category that only Rodney understood. He shivered in hot anticipation of what McKay would do with that knowledge. He was also harder than he’d ever been in his life.
“Don’t come yet. God, John, you’re beautiful like this. I need…” Rodney tugged at John’s shirt, yanking it over his head. He was more careful easing John’s trousers down off his legs, shucking boots and socks off in the process until John was completely naked. Completely naked, holding on to a rock hard cock, his balls so tight they ached.
“You.” John said, the words strangling out of his throat. “Naked. Now. Fucking please, Rodney. I need to see you.”
Rodney froze. “You’re sure?”
“I’m very sure,” John husked. “I want this. I want you.” He pulled at Rodney’s shirtfront one-handed. His other hand still gripped his cock to keep it from bouncing in greedy delight at the idea of getting up close and personal with Rodney’s skin.
“Can I?” Rodney asked.
“You can do anything you want,” John, answered with a smile. Rodney had finally taken his shirt off, pulling it over his head in one rough move. Wispy tuffs of hair stuck up all over his head. “Pants too, McKay.”
“Don’t stop what you’re doing.”
It felt like it took a millennium for Rodney to get his belt unbuckled and the rest of his clothes off. Rodney hadn’t taken his eyes off John’s hands or their slow slide of drag and pull as John jerked himself off, not once, not even when he almost tripped on his own pant leg.
Rodney pushed at him with a firm, gentle hand on his chest, until John -- panting with the effort not to come -- was lying flat on his back on the bed. Rodney pushed his knees apart and knelt between them. He stayed like that for long minutes, just watching John jerk off.
“Wasn’t there something you wanted to do, McKay?” he teased. Then John gasped and gripped the bedding, scrabbling for balance. Because apparently what Rodney wanted to do was to suck John’s cock down like he’d been craving it for years. Wet, hot, deep, oh sweet mercy, so deep that he could feel Rodney’s throat muscles working against the head of his cock.
He’d teased himself too long, and no matter how badly he wanted this to last, it was too late. Rodney swirled his tongue over John’s cock with a twist and drag that made John’s whole body arch into it and he came in an uncontrollable shudder.
John groaned. This was so good and so unfair. He’d finally gotten Rodney naked and in his bed and it had lasted two minutes. It couldn’t be over. Not yet. He eyed Rodney’s cock. It was flushed with blood, a darker shade of red at the head, and it jutted out from the copper-brown curls at Rodney’s groin. A tiny drop of precome glistened at its tip. It was also bigger than John was used to putting in his mouth. Or rather, tried to avoid putting in his mouth, but this was Rodney and John was ready to try anything to keep him here.
Getting Rodney to switch positions took no argument and even before John could register Rodney’s happy sigh, he found himself kneeling between McKay’s legs with an eager cock a bare inch from his mouth. John licked his lips.
The first taste hit him and it was pure Rodney through and through. Soft, fragile skin and heady musk lay on his tongue and suddenly John couldn’t get enough. For the first time in his life, John wanted to suck cock until his jaw ached. He took Rodney in as deep as he could; it wasn’t enough to satisfy him but it seemed to work okay for Rodney. He came with his hand curled in John’s hair and a groan so deep John could feel it. Fuck, if he was ever giving this up.
“I can do this better.” John grinned. “I just need to practice and build up my throat muscles.”
Rodney took John’s wrist in hand. The one usually kept covered with the black wristband. He’s eyes held a wicked gleam. “Hmmm, guess this means you’ll be wearing more … turtlenecks?”
John and Rodney of course. Thank you mischief5 for looking this over. Mistakes as always = mine.
John didn’t do blowjobs. More accurately, he didn’t reciprocate. He loved getting a blowjob. Hey, he was a guy, of course he did. He loved the wet, hot suction of an eager mouth -- the deeper, the better. But when it came to his turn to get on his knees, his inner eww took over.
Not that John outright refused but he’d fumble around in pretense, gag and spit a few times, until his current partner finally got frustrated enough to say, “Hell, just give me a handjob and we’ll call it even.”
Handjobs, John could do. He’d even developed a few excellent wrists muscles in the process.
Except…he’d gotten comfortable with Rodney and forgotten to put the black wristband back on after his shower. Stupid, stupid, stupid. They were only ten minutes into the movie when Rodney grabbed his naked wrist. It was just the two of them, sitting on John’s bed, in what was supposed to be two buddies unwinding after a long, unproductive day. Just…you know, buddies, watching a movie, together.
John took one look at Rodney’s face and caught his breath.
“So.” Rodney paused. He stared down at John’s wrist with a thoughtful expression on his face. “Show me.”
“I. You. Really? John put his hand on Rodney’s thigh and did his damnest to look hopeful. “Do you want me to, you know, to you?”
“Hmm. Keep that thought in mind. We’ll get to that later. Right now, I want you to, shall we say, demonstrate on yourself.” Rodney leaned forward his voice gruff and low. “Show me how you like it.”
“God, Rodney, you can’t just say stuff like that.”
“Yes. I can. Do it for me, John.”
John tried to draw in enough air to breathe. Rodney was looking at him, face flushed and eyes bright; his breathing was unsteady, but his hand trailed up the inside of John’s leg on a determined course.
Suddenly, John couldn’t wait to get his fly open and show Rodney his cock. He fumbled his pants open, swearing softly when the zipper broke.
Rodney was so close now that John could smell the clean male scent of him and his cock hardened in his palm before he could even get off a stroke.
“Do you like it hard and fast, or slow and dirty, John? Touch yourself. Show me what gets you off.” Rodney kept one hand curled around John’s wrist and spoke softly in John’s ear, intense, gritty, and without mercy. “Teach me how to touch you.”
John whimpered.
He’d done this countless times. To himself, to others, and he’d gotten better than proficient over the years. He’d been a goddamn expert at the fast and dirty handjob but this - this was so different with McKay at his elbow, breathing hot against his neck.
John knew Rodney wasn’t missing a squeeze or stroke of John’s hand on his cock, and that every soft thwap of skin against skin was going into some mental category that only Rodney understood. He shivered in hot anticipation of what McKay would do with that knowledge. He was also harder than he’d ever been in his life.
“Don’t come yet. God, John, you’re beautiful like this. I need…” Rodney tugged at John’s shirt, yanking it over his head. He was more careful easing John’s trousers down off his legs, shucking boots and socks off in the process until John was completely naked. Completely naked, holding on to a rock hard cock, his balls so tight they ached.
“You.” John said, the words strangling out of his throat. “Naked. Now. Fucking please, Rodney. I need to see you.”
Rodney froze. “You’re sure?”
“I’m very sure,” John husked. “I want this. I want you.” He pulled at Rodney’s shirtfront one-handed. His other hand still gripped his cock to keep it from bouncing in greedy delight at the idea of getting up close and personal with Rodney’s skin.
“Can I?” Rodney asked.
“You can do anything you want,” John, answered with a smile. Rodney had finally taken his shirt off, pulling it over his head in one rough move. Wispy tuffs of hair stuck up all over his head. “Pants too, McKay.”
“Don’t stop what you’re doing.”
It felt like it took a millennium for Rodney to get his belt unbuckled and the rest of his clothes off. Rodney hadn’t taken his eyes off John’s hands or their slow slide of drag and pull as John jerked himself off, not once, not even when he almost tripped on his own pant leg.
Rodney pushed at him with a firm, gentle hand on his chest, until John -- panting with the effort not to come -- was lying flat on his back on the bed. Rodney pushed his knees apart and knelt between them. He stayed like that for long minutes, just watching John jerk off.
“Wasn’t there something you wanted to do, McKay?” he teased. Then John gasped and gripped the bedding, scrabbling for balance. Because apparently what Rodney wanted to do was to suck John’s cock down like he’d been craving it for years. Wet, hot, deep, oh sweet mercy, so deep that he could feel Rodney’s throat muscles working against the head of his cock.
He’d teased himself too long, and no matter how badly he wanted this to last, it was too late. Rodney swirled his tongue over John’s cock with a twist and drag that made John’s whole body arch into it and he came in an uncontrollable shudder.
John groaned. This was so good and so unfair. He’d finally gotten Rodney naked and in his bed and it had lasted two minutes. It couldn’t be over. Not yet. He eyed Rodney’s cock. It was flushed with blood, a darker shade of red at the head, and it jutted out from the copper-brown curls at Rodney’s groin. A tiny drop of precome glistened at its tip. It was also bigger than John was used to putting in his mouth. Or rather, tried to avoid putting in his mouth, but this was Rodney and John was ready to try anything to keep him here.
Getting Rodney to switch positions took no argument and even before John could register Rodney’s happy sigh, he found himself kneeling between McKay’s legs with an eager cock a bare inch from his mouth. John licked his lips.
The first taste hit him and it was pure Rodney through and through. Soft, fragile skin and heady musk lay on his tongue and suddenly John couldn’t get enough. For the first time in his life, John wanted to suck cock until his jaw ached. He took Rodney in as deep as he could; it wasn’t enough to satisfy him but it seemed to work okay for Rodney. He came with his hand curled in John’s hair and a groan so deep John could feel it. Fuck, if he was ever giving this up.
“I can do this better.” John grinned. “I just need to practice and build up my throat muscles.”
Rodney took John’s wrist in hand. The one usually kept covered with the black wristband. He’s eyes held a wicked gleam. “Hmmm, guess this means you’ll be wearing more … turtlenecks?”