Secrets

Secrets

Word Count: 2021

Pairing: John/Rodney

Rating: NC-17 like whoa

Summary: "God, you want it bad tonight, don't you?"

John waits, impatiently, for Rodney to shut down his computer for the night. No one looking at him would know that, though. He's careful to hold his normal slouched posture, leaning against a wall as he waits.

Rodney glances at him and smirks, and John amends that to almost nobody, because Rodney knows.

But then again, Rodney knows exactly what he wants. He always seems to know, and when John isn't so eager, he sometimes wonders if Rodney isn't smarter about people than he's given credit for, because he knows that for most everyone, he's hard to read. But Rodney's never had any problem reading him.

His hands itch as he waits, and finally, finally Rodney shuts down his laptop and picks it up. "Shall we go, Colonel?" he says, gesturing towards the door.

John has to swallow in order to answer normally. "Sure. Chess waits for no man, and you are so getting your ass kicked this time."

"Of course, Colonel. May I point out that you've said that to me on at least seventy-five other occasions, and the number of times you've actually won I can count one hand?" Anyone who looked at them would say that Rodney was gloating over chess. John knows better. Rodney gets that the tone of voice is enough to make him hard, and he tugs his jacket down futilely.

The door isn't even shut when John drops to his knees. Rodney looks down at him and smirks. "God, you want it bad tonight, don't you?" he says, voice dripping with condescension. John nods, fisting his hands on his thighs to keep from reaching out to touch. He knows that Rodney will only allow it when he's ready and not before.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Get naked. Show me." John strips fast and efficiently, piling his clothes on his boots. He leaves his dog tags on - long experience has taught him that Rodney likes to use them like a leash. He kneels again, legs spread, hands folded behind his back. The position brings his cock into sharp relief, hard against his stomach, precome already gathering at the tip.

Rodney reaches down and grips it, hard, as if testing John's resolve. He can't help bucking into it, and Rodney chuckles. Releasing it as quickly as he grabbed it, he gives John no warning before slapping it sharply.

"Slut," he says, and John has to agree with him. He is a slut, at least as far as Rodney was concerned. He groans, hips moving restlessly. He wants Rodney's cock, wants it desperately, but if he begs before he's told to, Rodney won't let him have it, so he keeps his mouth shut, the words behind his teeth.

Standing back up, Rodney unzips his slacks, pulling his fat cock out through the zip. John feels his mouth start to water. He loves Rodney's cock, loves the way it stretches his mouth painfully. "What are you waiting for? Suck me," Rodney practically growls, and John is released to move forward, mouth already open.

When he gets close, he can smell Rodney, hot and horny and undeniably male. Carefully, he licks over the tip of his cock before opening wide and taking the fat head into his mouth and sucking gently.

He's not surprised at Rodney's hands at his hairline, holding tight. He's not surprised because he did it deliberately, wanting more from Rodney tonight. "You just can't do anything right, can you?" he growls, pushing his cock in deep enough to cause John to choke until he manages to get his head at the right angle to take it. Tears leak from his eyes, and he can't catch his breath and it's just what he wanted.

Rodney fucks his mouth in long steady strokes, in deep enough to cut off his air, holding there for long moments, till John feels lightheaded from the lack of air. With every twist of his body, John's cock slaps against his stomach, leaving a little trail of precome that grows cold and wet. Cruel words are spilling from Rodney's mouth and John is loving every second of it.

Finally, with a shove that makes John yelp in surprise, Rodney pushes him away from his cock. He kneels there, panting, as Rodney pulls on his dick. "Close your eyes, cocksucker," he says, and John obeys instantly, letting Rodney come all over his face and in his open mouth. He swallows the little bit that lands on his tongue, and licks his lips, looking for more.

Rodney's hands are gentle on his face, in complete opposition to his words, as he cleans the come away from his eyes. Once they're clear, his hands disappear. "Get over to the bed," he snaps out, words a whipcrack. John doesn't bother to get off his knees, crawling the few feet to the bed, and climbing on. The come still on his face is starting to dry, pulling the skin tight, but he doesn't ask to have it wiped off - he likes the feeling of being marked, and this is the only way that Rodney can do it safely.

Climbing on the bed, he kneels in the middle. Somehow, Rodney has gotten a room with a real person sized bed, and John loves it with an unholy passion. "On all fours. Get your ass in the air." John goes forward onto his hands, and then further still, burying his face in the blankets. This he doesn't love, as Rodney stands back and stares at him, open and on display like this, but he'll take it to get to the parts he likes.

A hard slap on his ass startles him, and he jumps. He didn't even heard Rodney move, but he's there now, landing one blow after another on John's ass, heating it up, turning it pink and then red.

John can't stop the moan that comes from his throat. Rodney just laughs at him and continues to spank him till he's writhing on the bed, unable to hold still. He's arching up into each slap, trying to beg Rodney without words for it to be harder, for him to go faster. Rodney doesn't, though, maintaining the same steady rhythm until suddenly, he's done.

Panting, John clings to the blanket, trying to get his breathing under control. There's a snick, and then a slick finger circles his hole, making him gasp and spread his legs wider. Now he can beg, and he does. "Please, don't tease me, Rodney. Please...Ó His voice trails off as the finger slides into him, slick and warm. Then it crooks, searching for and finding his prostate, and he gasps out, "Oh, oh, oh."

"Don't come, John. You know the rules." And John does. If he comes before Rodney says he can, the wait for the next time will be unbearable. The last time, John had been reduced to taking the risk of getting caught to blow Rodney in the lab, before Rodney would do so much as look at him. But it's hard, because Rodney is rhythmically massaging that spot, and John is so turned on he can't think.

A second joins the first, and it burns a little as he's stretched. He can feel his thighs begin to shake, and he knows that Rodney's seeing it, because before he thinks he's ready, Rodney has already slid a third finger in.

All John wants is Rodney's fat cock in him, pushing him open, but Rodney's gotten off once already, and John knows he's in for a long, slow finger-fucking. Rodney doesn't disappoint, sliding his fingers in over and over again till John can't tell if they're sliding in or out, till he can't do anything but clutch the blankets and try desperately not to come.

John's panting is loud in his ears, but he can still hear Rodney's words if he tries. "Little slut. Your ass is so cock-hungry I have no idea how you lasted this long in the Air Force. Gonna fuck you till you can't take anymore, till you can't sit still." He moans, pushing back onto Rodney's hand, begging without words.

When Rodney's fingers finally slip free of his ass, he whines and lifts his ass higher. He feels so empty, but Rodney shifts and moves until he's kneeling on the bed in front of John. "Look at me, slut." John lifts his head, trying to get his eyes to focus on Rodney. Rodney waits for something that only he can see, and then says, "Beg for it."

A glance down confirms that Rodney is hard again, and John wants to be fucked so badly it's painful. He normally trips over his own words, but right here and now, it's all he can do to let them out. "Please, Rodney, fuck me. I'll do anything, give you anything..."

"You'll already do anything I tell you to do. So why should I?"

Stymied, John tries to think of something, anything, and can't. Reduced to words of one syllable, he just repeats "Please" over and over again, until Rodney finally smiles. "Stop."

John is instantly silent, heaving in air through his mouth to try and stop the flow of words. Rodney moves again, reclining back and waving at his cock. "Ride me."

This is new, and a little awkwardly, John tries to figure out how to get on Rodney without kneeing him anywhere or kneeling on a part of his body. Eventually, he's positioned, straddling Rodney's hips, and he reaches behind himself to hold Rodney's dick steady as he slowly settles into place. Even with the thorough finger fucking, Rodney's cock still feels huge, feels as though it's splitting him open.

His ass settles into the cup of Rodney's hips, and he groans at the sensation of being filled. He's not given any time to adjust, though. Rodney slaps his hip and says, voice full of disdain, "I said ride, not just sit there."

John puts his hands on Rodney's chest as he raises himself a few inches, then lets his own body weight pull him back down. Rodney hisses at the sensation, and John can't help the smile, even though he's so hard he hurts. He knows that he won't be allowed to come until Rodney does, and Rodney can fuck like a champion when he wants to.

He realizes that he's stopped moving just as Rodney snorts in disgust and grabs his hips, forcing him to move or get bruises. John leans forward a little, and then gasps as that presses the head of Rodney's cock right where he wants it most. "Oh, yeah, slut. Move that ass," Rodney groans out and John obeys. He's riding the fine edge of his control, and Rodney knows it, but he gives him no mercy, fucking up into his hole even as John presses down.

John is only vaguely aware that he's begging for Rodney to come, to be allowed to come himself, but he can't stop. Rodney's hands trace random patterns on his stomach and chest, then further up, one of them resting on the back of his neck, the other tangling in his hair and pulling him further down, into a deep, hard kiss. Rodney's hips start to snap up, hard and fast, and he groans against John's lips. "Now, John, now."

Even as John feels the warm throbbing that is Rodney coming, John's already falling over the cliff and flying, coming so hard that he sees stars.

He collapses forward, resting on Rodney's chest until Rodney shoves at one shoulder. "Breathing would be good."

"You can breathe. How else are you bitching?" But John shifts to once side, unable to stop the wince as Rodney slides out of him. Using Rodney's shoulder as a pillow, he tries to get his breathing back under control.

He'd never say anything so mushy as "I love you" or even "Thank you." Instead, he moves closer and mouths the words into the point of Rodney's shoulder, hoping that he knows that they're meant, even if he can't hear them.

Rodney doesn't say anything either, and in silence they drift.

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