Trust in Me - McShep - NC17
Word count: 5450
Summary: “Do you think they all knew?” he starts, because that’s what’s been bugging him the most. “Do you think they all guessed what was really going on?” He hears Rodney huff, but step closer anyway, and knows it’s been bugging the other man too.
Beta: None! Ack!
Written for the Cuff 'em, Kink 'em, or just make 'em come already Kink and Cliche Multi-Fandom Challenge!
My challenge was: Eliade's: Trust and vows (promises are kept or broken; loyalty or betrayal; absolute trust or doubt; fidelity or infidelity; blindfolds or bondage as trust symbols; commitment or fear of commitment; acts of devotion; marriage vows; unconditional love; blood brothers and oaths; showing trust/faith in someone's abilities)
Eliade's: Topping from the bottom
Kink: First time, with a shy/bold virgin
I think I fulfilled it okay. Not awfully kinky, but plenty of porn and cliches! :)
Trust in Me
It’s still raining, heavy summer rain that’s smothering him with the warm, wet air. It turned the day into something magical, with the light bouncing off puddles and the flooded pool cover, kaleidoscopes of colour in every direction - rainbows climbing over the surrounding hills. John enjoyed the rain then, it had seemed right somehow, that even the weather wasn’t going to toe in and straighten up to make the day run smoothly.
Now though, in the dark, the clouds have rolled back in and there is an expectant thrum in the air, as if man and beast are just waiting for the storm to break once more. John is. He can feel it bubbling in his chest, the anger, the betrayal. He’s waiting for it to break, to bust out as yelling, as screaming, as the sound of plates smashing against the wall. It’s happened every night for the last week, and before he wasn’t sure if it was the stormy air, or the upcoming weekend that was causing the anger to boil and twist.
Now he knows.
He can hear Rodney in the house; hear the scuff of his bare feet on the wooden floors. He knows the other man will be straightening the blanket over the back of the couch, picking up half-empty champagne glasses and dropping them in the sink. He almost smiles as he hears the distinctive clink of glass on glass. Then his gaze drops to his cold hands and the gold band adorning them, and he shuts his eyes, clenching his hands into angry fists.
It wasn’t meant to go down like this.
“John?” he hears, and it’s coming from the lounge room, Rodney’s getting closer. John can imagine him pausing to admire the table still laden with gifts, maybe fingering a bow; he probably wants to open them.
The porch doors are ajar, and John can hear the footsteps getting closer, the soft pat of Rodney’s feet. He lifts his head and takes a deep breath to prepare himself. The air smells like new grass and damp earth - he can’t see the pool it’s so dark.
“Yep, yeah,” John answers, and wipes his hands over his face and through his hair, sloughing off the rain. He feels it trickle down the back of his neck and considers the expensive tux for a moment, the silk shirt and cravat - knows he’s going to get it in the neck.
“Where are you?” he hears, and he can just make out Rodney’s profile as he pokes his head out of the porch doors.
“Out here,” he says, a little louder, and steps back towards the house, into the light.
Rodney comes out of the screen door then, holding something and frowning into the dark. He’s still wearing his tux, the bowtie ostensibly tied with perfect angles, and John wants to laugh suddenly.
“You okay?” Rodney asks, quietly, when John does.
“Yes,” he answers quickly, automatically. And then, “No,” he whispers, turning and clenching his hands on the rail, trying not to look at them.
“Listen, I’ll just…” Rodney is starting, but John wants to talk now, and even Rodney isn’t going to stop him.
“Do you think they all knew?” he starts, because that’s what’s been bugging him the most. “Do you think they all guessed what was really going on?” He hears Rodney huff, but step closer anyway, and knows it’s been bugging the other man too.
“Elizabeth knows, of course. I think… General O’Neill has it figured out as well, yes,” he answers honestly, and John feels something unclench a little.
“Will you tell him?” he asks, very softly, fearing the answer.
“No,” Rodney answers, and John can’t help the hitched breath he manages in response.
John unclenches his left hand from the rail and studies the gold band on his wedding finger, contemplating. After a moment he says, “Why not?”
“Because we’ll both get thrown out of the programme,” Rodney answers, stepping up and leaning against the rail next to John.
John sighs, and closes his hand around the rail again, that isn’t what he wanted to hear.
“What do…” John takes a deep breath, lifts his hand off the rail and shoves it into his pocket – he really doesn’t like looking at that ring. “When do we ship back?” he asks.
“Friday,” Rodney tells him. “Not much of a honeymoon is it?” he jokes, voice high and tight. John wonders if they’ll ever be comfortable together again.
“Look…” John says, because he knows this was hard for Rodney too, knowing what all that anger was about. “In case I haven’t said it yet, thank you.” He turns his head ever so slightly then, takes in Rodney’s profile, “I mean that,” he adds, trying to smile.
Rodney looks at him for a moment, stares, and then smiles and says, “Idiot,” fondly, and something in John’s chest loosens enough for him to take a deep, relaxing breath. The anger dissipates, just as the rain stops.
He smiles, bumps Rodney’s shoulder and sort of leans against him for a moment. He wants to tell Rodney what it means to him, but Rodney knows - they both do.
“I’m sorry Rodney, John… this is out of my hands. The moment we stepped through the wormhole, they were planning this.”
“I won’t go back without him! I’ll quit!”
Elizabeth just stared for a moment.
“Yes… well…You just can’t… Elizabeth! We’ll be walking snacks for the Wraith without him there! We’ll… there’s no way we’ll survive!”
“Rodney…” Elizabeth said very calmly, as John sunk into a chair in shock. His commission gone. His rank, stripped away. He was being thrown out. Medical grounds. Early retirement. It was all the same, he wasn’t going back to Atlantis – he wasn’t going home.
“But he’s fine!” Rodney was bellowing. “It was… Ronon saved him. The damn thing only took a year or two; he’s barely got three white hairs!”
“Rodney, please. The psychologist here has deemed John unfit for active service, that’s enough for General Landry and it has to be enough for you too.”
“It’s not! Of course it’s not! Look at him, he needs to go back, he needs to go home!”
John was taking short, shallow breaths, he could feel the panic and fear bubbling up in his chest. What would he do on Earth? Where would he go? Oh God…
“Rodney, you are not listening to me!” Elizabeth shouted back. “He is not going back as Colonel Sheppard! Have you got that?” she asked, eyeballing them both.
“But...” Rodney spluttered, and then got it. “So hire him as a civilian!”
She took a deep breath and let it out, “I can’t. Currently Washington isn’t allowing anymore American citizens to enter the programme, we’re over subscribed.”
“However,” Elizabeth interrupted, raising her voice to carry over Rodney’s (no mean feat). “I am allowed to employ Russian, Australian, French and Canadian citizens…”
“I… what… oh!” Rodney said, blinking. John looked up and wondered what the two of them were communicating with just their eyebrows.
“I don’t understand…” John started.
“If you marry a Canadian, you can apply for Canadian citizenship,” Elizabeth told him, still staring at Rodney.
“I’ll sort it out,” Rodney answered, one hand coming to rest on John’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “You can trust me to do whatever it takes; he’s coming home with us.”
Once inside, minus the wet clothes and with the addition of warm sweats and the blanket from the back of the couch, John is feeling a little better – a little less panicky.
Rodney, wearing sweats himself and looking more normal, brings him a mug of hot milk (which makes John feel about twelve, but he likes it anyway), then settles on the end of the couch by John’s feet and shoots him a worried look.
“If you get pneumonia, you’re explaining it to Carson,” he says, but it’s soft and without Rodney’s usual sarcasm. John finds he doesn’t really miss it, not when Rodney’s hand is patting his feet gently.
“That’s nice,” he mutters without thinking, wriggling his toes against the outside of Rodney’s warm, solid thigh.
Rodney immediately lifts his hand away and places it in his lap. “Look,” he mumbles uncomfortably, and John sighs and draws his knees up to his chest so that his feet are out of petting range. “Look,” Rodney says again, and John notices for the first time that Rodney is still wearing his wedding band too. “I don’t expect you to… I’m never going to force you into anything, okay?” he asks, looking up. “I know we’re going to have to share quarters, to keep up appearances and everything, but…” he pauses, waves his hand a little. “I’m sure I’ll be okay sleeping on the couch.”
John smiles into his milk, because he knows it won’t go down like that – no way, not with Rodney and his love for his prescription mattress.
“My point being,” Rodney continues. “I’m not asking you to… consummate anything, so don’t go all… don’t worry about it,” he manages in the end, dropping his head onto the back of the couch and sighing again.
John places his mug down very carefully on the coffee table and regards Rodney quietly for a minute. “You’re trying to tell me you don’t want me to bend over and think of Atlantis?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow. Rodney chuckles; it’s deep and warm and relaxes John more than the warm milk was ever going to.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Rodney tells him, head still on the back of the couch, eyes closed as if he’s about to go to sleep.
John watches him for a minute, shifting until he’s more comfortable, pressing his own head against the back of the couch.
“Do you know what you’ve done?” he asks eventually, and is a little disappointed when his only answer is a softly exhaled breath. He hadn’t thought Rodney was really asleep. “Because of you, I can go home,” he says quietly, watching Rodney’s chest rising and falling gently.
John pulls the blanket over Rodney’s lap, watches the other man’s face for a minute (slack in sleep) and then stretches out and strokes his palm across the back of Rodney’s hand, wraps his hand gently around Rodney’s wrist - his long fingers not managing to circumvent the width, somehow that’s comforting. “Thank you,” he murmurs.
He’s quiet for a while, curled up on the couch, clutching Rodney’s wrist and trying to remind his brain that he isn’t a fourteen year old girl – it would *not* be all right to cry right now.
“I’m so fucking grateful,” Johnn mumbles, half asleep, his thumb rubbing an unconscious circle on the tender underside of Rodney’s wrist. “You’re brave, doing this, risking… well, you know the deal.” He pauses, takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes.
“I wish things had turned out differently,” he says in the end. “I think… I think this is something we could have had, for real… eventually,” he whispers, and falls quiet again.
The fingers flex in his, and then Rodney’s hand is turning in his grip to squeeze John’s fingers – his other comes up and curves over John’s cheek, pulling his head up and patting gently.
“You really are an idiot,” Rodney’s saying softly, even as he presses his lips to John’s and kisses him. John’s gasp of surprise is muffled by Rodney’s mouth.
“What…” he mutters, and then stops, because Rodney is running a big warm hand down his side and it’s making him *shudder*.
Rodney’s hand grasps his thigh suddenly, pulling him closer, whilst running kisses down his jaw, making John moan. “You’re a fucking idiot,” he says again, and John stiffens with annoyance. “All you had to do was tell me. Did you not get the part where I’d do anything for you?” he murmurs with his mouth right up against John’s ear.
“I…” John manages, because this is all a bit weird and out of third base – except also, not.
“John,” Rodney pulls back and places a hand either side of John’s face, turning his head to look at Rodney straight on. “Think about it for just a minute. I married you. A man. An ex-military commander. My best friend. Why would I do that if I didn’t want to?” he asks, it’s soft, but the bite of sarcasm is there too and it makes John frown.
“So I could go back to Atlantis?” he asks, genuinely confused.
Rodney smiles, shakes his head, and pulls John into a kiss. “Like I said, idiot. God… John… This might not be the way I’d like to have done it, but believe me…” he punctuates the sentence with another gentle kiss, licking John’s lower lip tantalisingly. “Please believe me when I say I’m glad I did.”
“I don’t…” John manages, before Rodney covers his mouth again, teasing his lips open with his tongue, delving inside and making John squirm.
“What?” Rodney asks, breaking off and pulling back. “What’s wrong?”
“I just…” John frowns and tries to say this without sounding rude. “Seriously?” he manages in the end.
“Oh you…” Rodney grabs, pulls, pushes, and John is on his back on the sofa with Rodney lying on top of him. “Shut up,” he mutters, and they’re kissing again.
John gets his arms up, and grabs Rodney’s head, slowing him down, controlling the next kiss. That makes him feel better, less off kilter. Then Rodney shifts, presses against him, and John moans as he loses what little control he had.
“I don’t think this is…” he whispers whilst Rodney kisses his neck. “Is a good idea,” he finishes, when Rodney shifts and moves his mouth to John’s stomach.
“What part of ‘we’re married’ did you miss?” Rodney mutters, and then runs his palms up under John’s shirt, smoothing across damp skin and twisting John’s nipples when he reaches them.
John’s feeling light headed and he’s not entirely sure he’ll be able to stop if Rodney pushes him any further. “I thought you said you wouldn’t push me,” he manages, and winces when he feels Rodney freeze.
“You don’t…” there’s a question in Rodney’s half-formed sentence and a lack of confidence that wasn’t there earlier. John lifts his head and takes in Rodney’s dishevelled hair and red lips.
“I want to,” John reassures him, and feels it as Rodney’s body relaxes against him. “I just…” he lifts his hand and twirls it over his head, in a gesture unconsciously reminiscent of Rodney. “Never have. Before.”
He winces again at the look on Rodney’s face. “You’re kidding me?” Rodney’s asking, sitting up and staring down at John. “I mean seriously… I figured you were at least bi! You’ve been staring at my ass since I met you! What… seriously?” he demands, and John can’t help chuckling.
“All right, okay,” he coughs and sits up, trying to straighten himself out a little. “I always figured I was at least bi too,” he says, refusing to look Rodney in the eye. “But…”
“Air Force,” Rodney fills in for him, sighing and reaching out to pull John’s shirt down over his stomach.
“It was that important to you?” Rodney asks, and there’s that gentle voice again – John could get used to that at least.
“It was,” John answers, looking up. He’s brave enough to lift a hand and wrap it around Rodney’s wrist again, contemplating. “It was that important to me.”
Rodney nods, he understands – it isn’t anymore, or can’t be at least.
“Come on,” he says, pulling on John’s hand and tugging him up off the couch. “We’re not doing this here. Come on,” he says. “Up!” And John laughs.
By the time they reach the bed, they’re both barely clothed. Rodney’s down to his shorts and one sock. John only has his shirt on and he’s moaning as Rodney pushes him onto the bed and goes down on him.
“Oh, yeah…” he manages, closing his eyes and relaxing back onto the bed. This is good, this is better than good; Rodney totally knows what he’s doing.
Then he stops doing it, and he’s crawling up John’s body, trailing wet kisses and rubbing his leaking cock against John’s leg. And when did he lose the shorts?
“Come on, come on,” Rodney mutters, hands scrabbling at John’s shirt as he pushes it up his chest, following it with kisses and teasing bites.
“Whoa, ha!” John laughs, as Rodney licks his armpit. “Oh no, that’s just… oh,” he moans, not gross then. He forgets what he was going to say anyway, as he helps Rodney yank his shirt over his head and gets lost in a devouring kiss.
Rodney breaks the kiss only to pull John higher up the bed, and then he’s back, leaning down to push John’s thighs apart and sink between them. John’s just about to say ‘Hey, slow down,’ when Rodney drops his hips and rubs just right.
“Oh…” John manages again, closing his eyes and grabbing for Rodney’s head. “Oh yeah,” he mutters between kisses, wrapping one leg around Rodney’s thigh and humping back. “Yes… you... oh!” he says, gripping Rodney’s shoulders tight and panting into his mouth. Rodney just slides a hand under John’s ass and pulls his hips up higher; making the angle so perfect that John thinks he’s not going to last.
“Oh yes… please…” he’s muttering into Rodney’s mouth, and seriously he’s so distracted by the pleasant pressure against his cock that he really doesn’t mind that Rodney’s pushing him into the mattress. Then suddenly, Rodney’s pulling him even closer and rolling them both over so that John’s on top. The pressure’s gone, and John realises that he might have to do some of the work now. “No,” he moans, leaning down and kissing Rodney hungrily before chasing biting kisses down his neck and over his chest, reaching up to try and tug Rodney over. “I liked that, why did you stop that?” he whispers, rubbing his cock against Rodney’s thigh, trying to get the warm pressure back.
“Because I want you to fuck me,” Rodney says, before he squirms away from John to fetch something from the bedside table.
John’s left kneeling on the bed, staring at Rodney’s bare ass as it wobbles around in front of him.
“You okay with that?” Rodney asks suddenly, and John blinks and realises that Rodney’s lying on his back again, looking comfortable against the pillows and regarding John with a smirk playing on his crooked lips.
“I… yes,” John says, and swallows, shuffling forward for another kiss. Rodney pulls and John slips, landing on Rodney’s broad chest and letting out a startled laugh. “This was never going to be elegant, was it?” he asks as he rubs a red mark on Rodney’s chest, wondering if he put it there.
“Speak for yourself,” Rodney snorts, and slaps John’s ass lightly. He laughs when John gives an involuntary full-bodied shudder, and does it again. “There’s something to explore another day,” he says, and drops a kiss against the top of John’s head.
John smirks, and lifts his head, drawing Rodney up for another kiss. He’s remembered that this isn’t the first time he’s had sex, that he knows how to do this – how to pleasure someone.
“Come here,” he murmurs, shifting until he’s settled more comfortably between Rodney’s thighs, smoothing one hand down Rodney’s chest and over his stomach. He’s rewarded with a hitched breath, and it makes him smile against Rodney’s lips. “There you go,” he whispers, more to himself than Rodney as he tickles and smoothes his way towards Rodney’s nipples, all the while exploring his mouth with lips and tongue.
“Oh,” Rodney whispers, when John’s fingers pinch his nipple and twist gently.
“Yeah…” Rodney breathes, and John lifts his head to see eyes tightly closed, flushed lips caught between white teeth.
“So…” he mutters, dropping his head and licking Rodney’s throat, following it up with a soft bite, smoothing his hand down towards Rodney’s cock, brushing his own in the process.
“So…” Rodney manages, even as his hips push up into John’s hand.
“Um…” John manages.
Rodney looks up and laughs. “Smooth,” he smirks, nodding and obviously trying not to grin. “Not so much of the Kirk after all, eh?” he asks, patting John’s arm.
John’s flushing, he can feel it.
Rodney shakes his head, sits up, and draws John down onto his side.
“I told you I wouldn’t push you,” he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss against John’s throat. “I promised you that. I’m not going to break my promise now.”
“I know,” John manages, and hates how strangled his voice sounds. “I know, and I… I trust you… I do.”
“Yeah?” Rodney asks, and John can nearly taste the smile on his lips.
“Knock it off,” he mutters, and it’s really barely sullen.
John wants to answer that, really, but Rodney’s kissing him so gently, so sweetly, that he can’t really think properly. His hands come up unconsciously, reaching to hold Rodney still, and to take control. Only Rodney doesn’t let him, he feels Rodney’s hands wrap around his wrists and press them softly into the mattress as he nudges John over onto his back.
“Just…” Rodney whispers, but leans back for another kiss when John moans. “Stay there,” he manages, turning John’s head gently to kiss his cheek, to lick his ear. Broad hands smooth down John’s thighs, and he shifts a little to let Rodney push in closer.
“Please…” he whispers, as Rodney’s mouth trails wet kisses across his chest.
“Please…” he breathes, as Rodney’s chest brushes over his cock.
“Ssh,” Rodney whispers against his belly, taking time to squeeze his hip and bite down gently on the bit of middle-aged spread those hours in the gym won’t shift.
The air is still heavy with moisture, warm and damp against John’s bare skin, and he feels drunk with it.
“Rodney, ple… oh!” he cuts himself off, as Rodney’s hand pushes his thigh firmly out of the way, and he feels warm, wet, heat lathing his balls. “Yeah…” he mutters, drawing his leg up and out of the way.
“Ssh,” Rodney murmurs again, and the vibrations send shivers over John’s belly. He closes his eyes, clenches his fists, and tries desperately not to thrust as Rodney finally, finally slips tongue and teeth over John’s cock.
“Oh,” he manages when he feels pressure and wetness behind his balls. He doesn’t know what to expect, and it makes him tense.
“Just relax,” Rodney’s murmuring, lifting his head to kiss John’s belly and lick the head of his cock - his finger, all the while, massaging his perineum. “Try and relax,” he says again, when John gives a nervous, hitching laugh.
“Right,” John manages, and settles a little. He can do this. He can trust Rodney. He can. Rodney’s earned that right.
Rodney’s hand is firm on his thigh when he goes back down, kissing and nipping his way down John’s cock to lick his balls again. If John opens one eye and squints, he can see Rodney’s dark head bobbing, nudging his nose into the crease of John’s thigh – it sounds like he’s sniffing.
He’s just about to say ‘Stop, please, this is weird’, when Rodney’s mouth closes over his cock again. It’s too good, and the weird pressure behind his balls only seems to make them tighten quicker. He’s whining now, nonsense words he’ll be embarrassed about in the morning, but it isn’t putting Rodney off – he’s swallowing around John’s cock and nudging that finger back until it’s circling John’s anus. He doesn’t want that finger to do anything else, but he trusts Rodney and he’s torn.
“Rodney,” he says suddenly, and then gasps as Rodney’s finger breaches him and slides inside. “Oh… oh fuck that’s…”
“Good?” Rodney asks, lifting his head and looking nervous. His cheeks are red and his mouth looks wet.
“I…” John says, because no, not good… but not entirely bad either. “Mostly weird,” he whispers. It’s slick and filling, and not unlike getting a physical; John can feel his erection deflating with the thought.
“Want me to stop?” Rodney asks, and John is grateful that he’s trying to hide his disappointment.
“I… no, it’s…” It’s not as odd now.
“Just…” Rodney whispers, looking down and frowning. His finger moves and John lifts a hand to stop him.
“Oh shit!” he gasps instead, hand dropping to Rodney’s head, fingers tightening in his short hair.
“Ow,” Rodney grumbles, but he’s smirking too, even as John’s trying to control his breathing.
Rodney wiggles his finger again, and nods knowingly as John’s body jerks and twists again.
“Yep,” the smirk is back full-force. “Going to let me get on with this now?”
“Oh…yeah, you… go ahead…” John manages, waving one hand a little limply and collapsing back against the bed.
Rodney’s hands are sure and strong as he positions John to his liking; thighs pushed back, legs splayed wantonly. His finger never stops moving, and the tendrils of pleasure are just about killing John by the time Rodney takes him into his mouth again. The licking isn’t quite enough and he wants to ask for more, harder, now, but Rodney (like so many times before) seems to read his mind. The pressure is a little distracting, but the feel of two fingers pushing into him is just amazing, and John really lets go then. He rubs his shin against Rodney’s shoulder, smoothes his hand over his own belly, and tries to concentrate on a weird crack in the ceiling to make it last.
“Come on,” Rodney whispers, as he eases a third finger in and licks up the fluid John’s leaking now. “Just let go…” he breathes, blowing cool air onto damp skin. It’s enough to make John give a full-body shudder.
“I…” John whispers, when what he wants to say is ‘what about you?’, only then Rodney swallows him down and presses all three fingers just right. “Ah, oh… fuck…” John whispers to the ceiling, and gives in at last.
John isn’t given to passing out from orgasm, but this is a pretty damn close run thing. He’s limp and satiated and all sorts of uncooperative as Rodney leans up to kiss him and rolls him gently onto his side. It’s only when he feels hot, hard, heat nudging at his ass that he realises how desperate Rodney must be.
“Yeah…” he whispers, when Rodney pulls him tight against his sweaty chest. He lifts his uppermost thigh a little, slides his leg forward, and feels Rodney spoon around him. He’s as relaxed as he’s ever going to be, and he realises suddenly that he wants this, badly. He wriggles a bit, pushing his ass back and is rewarded with a gasp as the tip of Rodney’s cock catches in his slick hole.
“John,” Rodney breathes against his ear, warm wet breath. “John, John, John…” he continues as he pulls a hand tight around John’s waist and edges his way in. John’s chest feels tight and he tries to breathe, concentrating on the weight of Rodney’s hand against his skin – he can feel the coldness of the gold band on his finger.
He concentrates on that, as Rodney inches his way into his body, breaking down barriers John didn’t even know he had. Their hands join over John’s belly, wedding bands clinking together as Rodney draws John’s hand down to his cock to stroke it gently.
“I don’t…” John mutters, and then gives up as Rodney tongues his neck and makes him groan.
His cock actually thickens again, as Rodney twists and thrusts and strokes, his breath coming in short, wet pants against John’s shoulder. John gets with the programme after a while, pushing back as Rodney pushes forwards, rewarded with renewed stimulation to his prostate that makes his fingers tingle and his cock twitch.
Rodney’s hand leaves John’s cock now, pushes down and cups his balls gently, massaging them before rubbing firm circles on his thigh.
“Turn…” he mutters, his breathing more ragged as his hips thrust a little harder, the depth making John gasp aloud every time. “Turn…” he says again, then gives up on speech and pushes John further onto his front. Rodney follows, plastered to John’s back, and groans as his cock slips deeper.
“Do you… like it?” he pants, as John wriggles on the bed, trying to make room for his growing erection.
“Yeah… yes,” John manages, pushing back as Rodney pushes forward and enjoying the moan he gets in response. Rodney’s heavy against his back, pushing him down onto the sheets.
“Knew you would,” Rodney breathes, and nips the back of John’s shoulder. His hands move from John’s waist to his hips and pull back, lifting John onto his knees. “There…” Rodney pants, forcing his cock deep and holding still as John struggles to get his arms underneath him. “Fuck…” Rodney mutters, pressing his face against John’s back, sliding wet kisses over his spine. “You’re amazing,” he pants, and John groans as the head of Rodney’s cock slides over his prostate again and again as Rodney resumes his movement. He wants to touch himself. He thinks he might just come again if he could only touch himself. He is just trying to work out if he can hold himself up with one hand, and wrap the other around his cock, when he feels Rodney’s palm slide over his belly. The warmth of it makes him shiver.
“Please,” he whispers, head down, sweat dripping off his nose as he pushes back into Rodney’s thrusts.
“Yeah…” Rodney whispers. He pushes forward to plaster himself against John’s back, panting into his ear and kissing his neck as his damp hand closes over John’s cock. “Yes,” he repeats, his hips moving in short sharp thrusts as he jacks John off.
“Come on McKay!” John growls as he squirms and pushes back.
“All right, all right,” Rodney mutters, dropping John’s cock and bringing both hands up to wrap around John’s shoulders. He pushes John’s torso down onto the bed, forcing his legs flat as he shoves in harder. He’s pulling John down and pushing into him at the same time, it’s deep and hard and fucking amazing.
“Yes, yeah,” John groans, pushing his face into the pillow as his cock is rubbed against the sheets. “Oh… Jesus fucking…” he shouts, as Rodney manages to bite his neck just as he thrusts in hard, scraping a ridge in the condom over his prostate.
His orgasm, the second one, is just as explosive as the first, and he collapses in a literal puddle as he feels Rodney thrust into him once more, riding out the contractions in John’s ass. He wishes he didn’t feel so utterly wiped out, he’s sure there’s blackmail material in the gibberish Rodney’s muttering as he comes.
There’s some pain when Rodney pulls out, despite the lax state of John’s muscles, and he knows he’s going to be sore in the morning. But the heat and weight of Rodney’s body as he wraps himself around John, far outweighs any discomfort.
“Humph,” John manages, when he means ‘that was fucking amazing - when can we do it again?’
“Tomorrow,” Rodney grins, and smoothes his hand down John’s back before burrowing in to kiss his ear, his cheek and finally his mouth.
“Hmm,” John murmurs against his lips, this time he doesn’t know what he means, but if he were capable of speech it’d probably sound something like ‘I think I love you.’
Rodney chuckles and curls himself around John, pulling the edge of one of the sheets over their legs. John opens his eyes enough to watch Rodney watching him, red faced and sweaty, a smile quirking his lips.
“Hmmph,” John whispers, pursing his lips for another kiss. He means ‘thank you’, and ‘I love you’ and ‘you’re incredible’ all at the same time.
“Yeah,” Rodney breathes, leaning into the kiss. “Yeah, you too,” he adds, as John’s hand comes up and grips his wrist.
Rodney twists his hand, and clasps John’s fingers in his own, so that they can both feel the weight of their wedding bands.
“Thank you for trusting me,” he whispers, pressing another kiss to John’s eyelid as it flutters closed.
“Mmm,” John mumbles, half to sleep already – really, he means, ‘You deserve it’.