Fun and Games III

The sun was starting to fade when John woke. He stretched and looked over at Rodney. They had moved apart in their sleep and Rodney was lying on his side, almost on his stomach, nearly an arm's length away. He was bathed in fading orange light. Rodney's room got lots of light in the morning, but faced away from the afternoon sun.

John ran his hand slowly down the center of Rodney's back. Rodney didn't sleep enough. He firmly believed that six hours were sufficient at the best of times and he'd been known to go for days without sleep at the worst of times. John was of the opinion that Rodney needed a solid eight hours minimum just like everyone else, but he hadn't been able to convince Rodney of that.

He moved his hand back up, feeling Rodney's sleep warmed skin. He loved it when Rodney was like this. Quiet and restful. Of course he also loved it when Rodney was happy and excited. Pissy and sarcastic was good, too.

John smiled to himself. He was hopeless. If Rodney ever figured out just how much of a romantic John was he'd be screwed.

The thought of being screwed made him smile even more broadly. He was a little sore, but it had been worth it. Just the look on Rodney's face when he'd finished tying John up had been worth it. Rodney was utterly incapable of hiding his feelings. Everything he felt showed almost immediately on his face. Having someone look at you like that, with nothing held back, nothing hidden, was an incredible rush.

Having Rodney look at him like that made John feel valued in a way he'd never expected. When Rodney looked at him it wasn't about John's combat skills, or his looks, or his facility with prime numbers. It was about all of those things, and none of them.

Apparently bondage made him philosophical.

He slid his hand up to Rodney's neck and moved his fingers through the ends of Rodney's hair. Rodney stirred and John edged closer, once again stroking his back.

Rodney opened his eyes and John moved into his space, his head on Rodney's pillow. "Hey," he said softly.

Rodney smiled and John kissed him lightly.

"What time is it?" Rodney asked sleepily.

John shook his head. "It doesn't matter." It didn't. He was keeping Rodney in this bed until morning if he had to tie him down.

And wasn't that a thought.

"What are you thinking?" Rodney was fully awake now, watching John with alert blue eyes.

"Nothing."

"I'm not the only one with ticklish spots. Spill."

Rodney wasn't the only one with ticklish spots, but John was pretty sure he was faster. Of course being faster implied running and that would involve getting out of bed. "I was thinking that I'm going to keep you in this bed even if I have to tie you to it."

"We have the cable."

They did. "Would you like that?" John asked, because the idea of Rodney giving it up like that for him excited him almost as much as giving it up for Rodney had.

"With you? Probably."

John smiled. "Cool." He resumed stroking Rodney's back. "Maybe the next time we spend the day in bed."

"Maybe," Rodney agreed, turning fully onto his side and creating a space for John to move into. John shifted so that he was pressed up against Rodney, one arm over Rodney's waist and one leg over his hips. "Staying in bed all day was a good idea."

John grinned. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Rodney was amused, but John didn't mind. He rather liked amusing Rodney. Rodney kissed him, a slow, lazy kiss and John kissed him back.

Lazy, indulgent kisses and lazy, indulgent touches were two of John's favorite things and they didn't get enough of them. John liked sex with Rodney any way he could get it, but too often they were both frantic and desperate and needy. Sometimes they had joyful, celebratory, 'we're not dead' sex. But they rarely got to have leisurely 'we have all the time in the world' sex, probably because they didn't. Today they were going to pretend.

John rolled them so Rodney was on his back and trailed his lips over the side of Rodney's neck. He knew all of Rodney's sensitive places and he was going to caress every one of them, repeatedly.

Rodney groaned when John sucked softly and rhythmically on his earlobe.

He giggled when John licked the inside of his elbow.

He arched off of the bed when John traced a nipple with his fingers.

He spread his legs when John nipped his inner thigh and pulled his legs back when John teased his entrance with his tongue.

He was almost shaking when John covered the head of his cock with his mouth.

Just when John was sure Rodney was going to come for him, he felt Rodney's hands on his shoulders urging him upward, away from Rodney's cock. Reluctantly letting go, he rose from between Rodney's thighs and Rodney covered John's mouth with his. Nobody kissed like Rodney when he was really turned on. Passionate and consuming, Rodney's kiss left him with nowhere to go, not that John wanted to go anywhere.

Rodney's hands were moving greedily over his skin, and John groaned. It was lost in their kiss. One of Rodney's hands reached his thigh and John shifted to the side, parting his legs. Rodney cupped his balls and rubbed his perineum sending bolts of pleasure through John. He felt as though he was hanging from Rodney's lips, completely at Rodney's mercy, again.

A thick finger pushed into him. He flinched a little, because he was sore. But the discomfort felt perversely good, reminding John of what they'd done and making John want to do it again. He wanted Rodney to fuck him until he couldn't walk.

"You're wet," Rodney said, his voice low and rough.

It took John a moment to realize what Rodney meant. He was wet inside. "With your come," John whispered.

"God, John." Rodney buried his face in John's neck and John stroked his hair.

"Yeah." He sounded as turned on and stripped bare as Rodney did.

Rodney lifted his head and then he withdrew his finger. John was going to protest but Rodney took his hand and tugged it down between them to John's entrance. Rodney covered John's hand with his, folding down three of John's fingers and placing his index finger alongside John's.

John clutched Rodney's shoulder with his free hand as Rodney eased their fingers inside. He was wet. It was Rodney's come he was feeling inside him, and Rodney's finger guiding his, pushing it against his prostate. John had thought he couldn't feel any more vulnerable than he had when Rodney had tied him up. He'd been wrong. "Rodney."

"Can you feel it?" Rodney's voice was low and urgent.

John swallowed. "Yes."

Rodney pushed John's finger against his prostate again.

"Feel that, too." John wasn't sure how he'd gotten the words out.

Rodney did it again and John groaned. He needed Rodney. Needed Rodney over him and in him. "Fuck me."

Rodney shook his head. "You're sore."

"I don't care. Please."

Rodney moved away. With their arms between them he hadn't been able to press his whole body against Rodney's, but where they had been touching had felt damn good. Now Rodney was moving, sliding down between John's legs and John wanted him to stop, to come back.

Rodney's mouth closed over one of his balls, sucking lightly just as he again pressed John's finger against his prostate.

John gasped and lifted his hips and felt his brain short-circuit.

Rodney continued to mouth his balls, continued to fuck him with two fingers, one of them John's own. John's hands twisted in the sheets. He tried to squirm but his movements were limited by the position of his arm. He groaned instead, but as Rodney's mouth slid down his cock his groans faded to whimpers.

Eventually, he stopped making noise altogether. He stopped doing anything but feeling Rodney.

He had a moment of panic just before he came. He didn't want to come, didn't want to lose Rodney's mouth or Rodney's touch or Rodney's tenderness. But he couldn't stop it, couldn't hold back, and he came spurting and shaking in Rodney's mouth.

Rodney swallowed and the suction the swallowing created was oddly soothing. He wasn’t going to be parted from Rodney because Rodney was swallowing, drinking him in. It was the kind of thought that only made sense when you were coming. John knew that, but it soothed him anyway.

Rodney released his cock and rested his head on John's thigh. John reached for him with his free hand, patting his hair.

"I love you," Rodney said. Their fingers were still in John's ass.

"I know."

Rodney kissed his thigh and then gently pulled both of their fingers free. Rodney rose up over him, resting his weight on his hands and knees. John had no idea when he'd rolled onto this back, probably when Rodney had moved between his legs. John touched Rodney's cheek. "You said it without being tickled."

Rodney nodded, smiling softly. John was tempted to tickle him, just to see if it would make him look less fragile, and make John feel less fragile. "What do you want?" he asked instead.

"Touch me."

John could do that. He wanted to do that. Holding Rodney's cock firmly in one hand, he rubbed the head with the finger Rodney had guided inside him. It was damp. Rodney closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. John ran his finger up and down the slit a few times and then began to stroke. He knew Rodney's preferences, knew the right rhythm and the right firmness. Knew that the skin around the head was just loose enough to move with his hand.

He watched himself jerk Rodney off, watched Rodney's cock disappear and reappear within the circle of his hand.

When Rodney came he watched fluid leave Rodney's cock and land on his skin. He wanted to arch back, to expose himself, to get as much of Rodney's come onto his skin as possible.

Rodney finished coming and John touched himself while Rodney watched. He rubbed Rodney's fluid into his nipples and chest, his thighs and cock and balls.

When John was done Rodney licked a nipple and kissed him before settling against him with his head on John's shoulder.

John held him and tried to think of something to say that wouldn't sound trite.

"I think we have really good sex," Rodney said in a tone that was almost conversational. It might have been conversational if Rodney had a conversational tone, but he didn't.

"I thought I was the one with the knack for understatement."

"You've been rubbing off on me."

It wasn't funny. It wasn't. As one-liners went, it was completely obvious. John laughed anyway. Rodney laughed with him.