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What Rodney Could Do


Title: What Rodney Could Do

Author: chelle

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Fandom: Atlantis

Archive: Ask first

Rating: NC-17

John's chest hair was a little scratchy against his skin, and John's cock was pressing into his back, low enough that part of it was between his parted cheeks.

Rodney was in a place that two days ago he would never have imagined being—Major John Sheppard's bed. He was on his knees and John was kneeling behind him, pressed tight against Rodney, his hands moving over Rodney's chest and stomach. John nibbled lightly on the side of Rodney's neck and then began to suck. Rodney dropped his head to John's shoulder and moaned.

It had been a long time since anyone had touched him like this, longer than Rodney wanted to think about. Usually with men it was a quick 'you do me, I do you' thing, at least for Rodney. Foreplay was what you did with women. Getting off was what you did with men.

No one had bothered to tell Major Sheppard that, or, more likely, they had and he'd simply ignored them. John was like that.

John. Well, Rodney couldn't very well call him Major when his hand was sliding up Rodney's thigh now, could he?

John took his balls in hand, cupping them gently and rubbing the place where scrotum and cock met with his thumb. Rodney wouldn't have moaned if he hadn't also brushed his fingers over Rodney's nipple at the very same moment. Rodney had a nipple thing, and he'd had his shirt off for all of two minutes before John had discovered it.

That had been yesterday. Their first fuck, screw, whatever. They'd both been high on adrenaline, grateful to be alive, and easily aroused. John had been standing a little too close, had smelled a little too good, had looked a little too good, and Rodney's dick had noticed. John had noticed Rodney's dick noticing. It had all gone downhill from there.

Rodney had expected to give a handjob, maybe get one. He'd gotten a blowjob, a full out lick you, suck you, make your knees turn viscous blowjob. He'd still been shaky when he'd dropped to his knees to return the favor.

The handjobs had come later, along with kissing. Light, gentle kissing. Deep, penetrating kissing. Kissing until there isn't a drop of saliva left in your mouth kissing. John had said afterward that he liked kissing. Rodney had decided he was okay with that.

John also liked touching, lots of touching. And nibbling.

John's hand was on his cock now, and John was stroking him.

It was the Ancient gene, had to be, because no one touched this well.

Reaching blindly behind him, he grabbed one of John's skinny ass cheeks and squeezed. Rodney's mother would have wanted to fatten John up, but Rodney liked the way John's ass fit perfectly into his hand.

John's hand left his cock and Rodney had all he could do not to grab it and pull it back. Hands on his shoulders, John pushed him forward onto the bed. Rodney went, although he missed the feel of John's ass in his hand.

John straddled him, his cock resting on Rodney's back, and began to touch his back the same way he had his front. Rodney knew John was memorizing the feel of him, memorizing skin and muscle and him. It should have been disconcerting or weird or something, but it wasn't. It was just John. Rodney's theory was that John had always been weird and had used his charm and good looks to fool people into thinking he was normal. It hadn't worked on Rodney. Because even if it didn't feel weird, memorizing people, memorizing Rodney, with your hands was weird.

But it felt so good.

Closing his eyes, Rodney tried to shut off his mind, not an easy thing for him, but he could do it when the moment warranted it. And this moment warranted it.

Strong hands, arousing and soothing at the same time… A gentle mouth, nibbling the back of his neck, moving lower, between his shoulder blades and down along his spine…

Fingers dancing lightly over the space between his cheeks…

With a quiet groan, he spread his legs.

A stubbled cheek playfully rubbing the small of his back…

Hands parting him and a tongue, oh God a tongue, sliding into the exposed space…

Time to think now. Rodney tried in vain to turn his mind back on, but it wasn't cooperating. Something about pleasure and the blood all pooling below his waist and John's tongue robbing him of the ability to do pretty much anything except lie there.

John's tongue was like a miniature version of John: charming and quick and far smarter than it had a right to be. It darted, it slid, it licked and Rodney panted and moaned and rubbed his cock against the sheet.

Then it withdrew and something else took its place, something warm, but not soft. A finger, it had to be. It was far too narrow to be John's dick. He was going to tell John to take it out. He sent that very message from his brain to his mouth. His mouth opened and John's finger brushed his prostate and something that sounded like 'ehhnnnhhh' came out. Rodney would have been embarrassed, but John brushed a kiss to one of his ass cheeks and added another finger.

Rodney tried again to make his brain work, because fucking wasn't, he didn't. Blowjobs, he liked blowjobs, and a good handjob was a work of art, but he didn't fuck, not with guys. Because asses were where stuff came out, not where it went in.

But this was apparently another one of those things that no one had ever explained to John, because John was touching him. In the ass. And it felt better than it should have. Way better.

Rodney had no idea how long his hips had been moving, how long he'd been pressing his cock into the sheet and then lifting his ass onto John's fingers. But as soon as he realized what he was doing he stopped, or tried to, it took a few minutes to convince his hips to stop moving.

"Don't stop."

Rodney groaned. John wanted him to move. John was watching him move. Watching him lift his ass into the air, watching his fingers slide in and out of Rodney's ass. That thought, that realization… He should have been embarrassed. He wanted to be embarrassed. Instead, he was turned on. Wildly turned on.

Convinced he could feel John's eyes boring into his ass, Rodney thrust into the sheets. Then he lifted his hips, imagining what John's fingers looked like as they slid into him.

"Yeah, like that, Rodney, do it like that."

Rodney didn't need any encouragement. Feeling wanton and exposed and a little depraved, he began to move faster. And faster. John's fingers were going deep, and John knew what to do with them. Pleasure was cascading along nerves Rodney hadn't even known he had.

He came clutching the sheet, his hips bucking uncontrollably. For the first time in his life, he felt his ass when he came. He'd never known the muscles there contracted when you climaxed, but with John's fingers inside him, giving them something to contract around, he could feel it.

The realization that John had watched him come, that John had felt him come, sent aftershocks through him.

John waited until the tremors had stopped and then gently withdrew his fingers. Rodney immediately missed them. Rolling onto his back, he found John kneeling beside him, smiling down at him, with a very hard cock sticking up from between his legs. He'd done that. He'd caused the hard-on and the smile.

Rodney smiled back, because how can you not smile at the person who just gave you the most explosive orgasm you could remember?

"Hey," John said.

"Hey," Rodney answered. There was something to be said for being a genius. It gave you a real way with words. "Want some help with that?" He lifted a hand and gestured in the direction of John's cock.

John looked down at his dick. "Sure."

"What would you like?"

John moved, shifting and giving Rodney a too brief kiss. "Touch me."

Rodney reached out. He could do that. He could definitely do that, memorizing and all.