Arguments

Arguments

Word Count: 1778

Summary: John and Rodney disagree on the necessity of a mission

Rating: NC-17_Pairing: John/Rodney

Rodney's hands were firm on John's back as he propelled him into his quarters. For just a moment, John contemplated putting his foot down, metaphorically and literally, and having it out right here and now in the hallway.

Just because Rodney didn't see what he'd done as necessary didn't make it any less so. Lorne's team had been in trouble, and all he'd really done was fly the jumper in to block the Genii weapons and let the team load up in the back, and then flown them back. It wasn't like he'd been in any real danger.

But that didn't matter to Rodney, who had a perfectly rational reason to hate the Genii, thank you very much, and John grimaced as Rodney's voice sounded in his head. Okay, maybe Rodney had a point, because Kolya's face had promised vengeance if he ever managed to get his hands on John.

All thought ceased when Rodney spun him in place and slammed him back against the wall. "Don't you ever do that again," he said, each word emphasized by a poke to the chest.

"What was I supposed to do, Rodney? Leave them there to die?"

"You take five minutes to get your team, you jackass. You know, the people who have your back when you forget to watch it?" Rodney's eyes were so wide that John could see white all around the iris, like a spooked horse.

John deliberately dropped his voice, trying to calm Rodney down before he stroked out. "There wasn't any time, but I got it done, no damage done, okay?"

"I don't care," Rodney ground out. "You make the fucking time, you use that radio you wear and you call Teyla and Ronon and, and, and me, and you don't leave us behind wondering if this is the time that you don't make it back!"

Oh, so that was what this was all about. John may not be very good at relationships, but he knew when it was time to apologize, whether or not he thought he was wrong, and boy, howdy, wasn't it one of those times right now? "I'm sorry, Rodney. I didn't want to leave you behind, you have to know that. But I can't say I'm sorry that you weren't at risk this time - I don't want to see you hurt either."

That didn't seem to placate Rodney in the least, who looked even more angry if that was possible. His hands tightened in the front of John's shirt, and John had to resist the urge to push him back, to get some space. Rodney got right up in his face and spat out, "Let me put this in terms you'll understand. If you do that again, without taking two seconds to think, I'm going to kick your ass from here to the Milky Way and back again. Are we clear, Colonel?"

And there wasn't anything John could say to that. He understood why Rodney was so upset, and arguing the point was only going to piss him off further. Instead, he forced his muscles to relax, so that he leaned back against the wall, and nodded. "Got it."

"Good," and then Rodney leaned in, taking his mouth in a bruising, searing kiss that left John breathless.

The sheer desperation in the kiss made John get it. Rodney wasn't angry, or not really, anyway. He was terrified, and that was an emotion that John could understand, even if he'd never admit it.

So he opened his mouth wider, coaxing Rodney's tongue into his mouth, arching his hips and moaning, making no effort to hide the effects of the kiss on him. When Rodney broke away, resting his forehead on John's shoulder and catching his breath with a harsh sob, John wrapped his arms around him and held on tight.

He wasn't surprised when Rodney looked up with a face clear of tears. Rodney's hands found their way to his shoulders, fisting in the fabric and twisting for a moment, before Rodney seemed to come to some sort of decision that reflected in his face.

Turning them so that Rodney's back was the one to the wall, Rodney shoved at John's shoulders till he got the hint, dropping to his knees in front of Rodney and mouthing at his cloth-covered erection. One of Rodney's hands tangled in his hair, tugging lightly.

"Oh, yeah, John. Do it - do it now."

John didn't bother to worry about finesse or subtlety. He just reached up and unbuttoned and unzipped, trying to get to Rodney's flesh as fast as possible. As he licked and sucked the skin that he could reach, he tried to say he was sorry with every action.

He knew he was getting through when Rodney's hands tightened in his hair, and he thrust his cock towards John. "Suck me."

John did, taking Rodney's cock as far down as he could, wrapping a hand around the base to keep him from going too far and choking. Rodney thrust hard, again and again, and it was all John could do to keep up with him. He tried to make it good, using his tongue in all the spots he knew worked for Rodney, but Rodney's hands just tightened even further, becoming almost painful, and John let out a choked moan and damn near came in his pants.

Rodney's breath was high and tight when he pulled back as far as the wall would let him. "On the bed. Now." There was no question that John was going to obey him, would let him do anything he wanted.

The bed was only a few steps away, and he was there in seconds, stripping out of his clothes as he moved and falling to his hands and knees as soon as he was close enough.

Dropping his head to rest on his folded arms, he thrust back his ass for Rodney, not surprised when a sharp slap bit into the skin. "One of these days you're going to be the death of, well, you," Rodney said, still standing next to the bed, but he sounded less afraid and less angry now. More resigned, in fact, and that hurt worse than anything Rodney could do to him.

"I'm sorry, Rodney, I really am," John said, softly from his position on the bed. Rodney snorted, slapping his ass a few more times. Then he was climbing up on the bed and reaching past John to the lube that John kept under the pillow.

"Shut up. I'm going to fuck you now," was all Rodney said, his voice tight and clipped, but the fingers sliding around his hole were soft and gentle and slick. One slid inside John, pressing him open slowly as Rodney leaned down and pressed his mouth to John's shoulder.

John shuddered as the sensation crashed through him. Rodney had big hands, long fingers, and it felt so good to be prepped like this, his movements slow and gentle inside.

Then his finger pressed right in the best way, and John bit his lip as sparks fired from behind his eyes. He always forgot how good that felt, until it was happening again, and then he couldn't imagine not feeling that way.

One finger became two without John really being aware of it. Then two became three, and he panted through the stretch, the feeling that it was almost enough and too much at the same time. When Rodney pulled out, it was with a wrench that left John feeling hollow and empty.

But Rodney was kneeling between his thighs, and there was a broad pressure at his hole that seemed to stretch him impossibly before it popped through. As John let his breath out in a hiss, Rodney slid into him, filling him just perfectly.

Once he was seated fully, Rodney paused for what felt like an eternity to John. Then there was the long slide back out, and John moaned what he thought was Rodney's name, but might have been wordless sound. As Rodney slipped back in, his hands settled on John's hips, pulling him up and back, so that he was impaled on Rodney's cock. One of Rodney's arms made its way down and around his chest, pulling him further up, so he was practically sitting in Rodney's lap.

And John wasn't a small man, but like this, he felt small, like he was being cared for, and that sensation made his breath come faster in his chest.

They sat like that for a long time, John just feeling everything, just breathing. Then Rodney began to talk. Nothing like full sentences or even ideas, just single words, like scared and lost and need. John knew that it was hard for Rodney to put his feelings out there like that. Talking? Oh, talking was easy for Rodney, but it was much harder for him to say anything important, so John looped his arm back around Rodney's neck, pulling him forward so that they could kiss, awkward and uncomfortable as it was.

Lips still touching, John whispered "I love you too," ignoring the way that Rodney's body stiffened at the words. The arm around John's chest tightened, and then Rodney relaxed all at once. "Of course you do. Who wouldn't?"

John smiled, and shifted his weight, pulling a gasp out of both of them. Rodney's wide hands slid down over his sides to his hips, guiding him into a slow, rolling movement. Thigh muscles quivering, John did as Rodney moved him, moaning as the head of Rodney's cock brushed over that spot deep inside.

It wasn't a position that either of them could maintain for long, and soon enough Rodney pushed John forward again, following him down and letting John take some of his weight. John embraced it, feeling like he'd float away without that reassuring pressure.

Rodney's thrusts were still slow and steady, but they were starting to gain in force, and John squirmed one hand down underneath himself, reaching for his cock. Pulling it in time to Rodney's thrusts, he sobbed and came, fireworks going off behind his eyes.

Behind him, Rodney barely paused when he came. When John was wrung out, hardly more than a limp rag, Rodney finally broke loose, slamming into him over and over until he came with a shout.

Collapsing into a tangle of limbs, John laid still as Rodney peppered his back and neck with kisses. "I really am sorry, you know."

"I know. And I meant it, I really will kick your ass," but John could hear the smile in Rodney's voice. "Course, making up is nice too."

John really had to agree.