Rodney had been wearing that look a lot lately, which meant John had been using his tongue. A lot, in all sorts of places. Yesterday morning’s detour involved Rodney’s unusually sensitive ankles. Tonight it was hands. As John flattened his tongue and pressed against the center of Rodney’s palm, liking the sting of salt, he watched. Rodney’s expression began to dissolve, just like before. John was pleased to see Rodney completely bypass resignation and slide right on into skin-happy. A quick trip between ring and middle finger and then John was sucking on both digits, strong and slow with the faintest touch of teeth. More than he’d use on Rodney’s cock, but fingers were different. Lots of nerves, but not the same.

Rodney’s fingers liked John’s teeth, so John scraped harder and listened to Rodney stutter out a whine. He wasn’t thinking at all now, of that John was sure. Well, he wasn’t thinking about making John argue with him about the appropriateness of them engaging in behavior unbecoming people in their positions.

John thought people in their positions shouldn’t be doing anything else. After all, he was naked and all Rodney had left on was a pair of ragged jeans. What else were two mostly-nude men supposed to do with their time? Certainly not argue.

It could be, however, that Rodney was thinking of fucking him. John felt his cock jump and his hole twitch at the memory of Rodney inside him. Another slow retreat before bringing Rodney’s fingers back into his mouth in a pretty fair imitation of a truly debauched blow job.

Rodney was good and hard, breathing erratically and just where John wanted him to be. John relaxed his lips and let the weight of Rodney’s arm drag his fingers away, watching Rodney’s eyes follow them down as his hand fell to his lap. Two wet fingers, slightly curled on top of Rodney’s cock, outlining its thickness beneath faded denim.

Maybe Rodney would force him to beg for it. John liked begging, liked the power rush of getting a man to shake and quiver from holding back just to make him plead. Thinking about getting Rodney to do that made John want to fuck him instead. That was it, John’s cock said, thrumming with excitement. He reached for the waistband of Rodney’s jeans, pausing as he pulled at the button.

“Let me.”

Rodney’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped farther open, hips shifting to let John remove his clothes. John didn’t move, though.

“Please.” Soft, almost a whisper and yeah, Rodney’s eyes got darker and he thrust up, forcing John’s hand down against his stomach. The zipper sounded obscenely loud, each tooth clacking raucously. Rodney grabbed his thighs as John pulled fabric down, leaving him with a stunning view when he finally got done disentangling Rodney’s legs.

John dove down, burying his face in Rodney’s groin. He could hear Rodney panting, fingers digging mercilessly into muscle until the skin there creaked in protest. John wanted to taste, to push and twist and open Rodney up. He didn’t just want that, though; he wanted Rodney to force him to ask.

So instead of taking what he wanted, John looked up at Rodney who was staring frantically at him. Rodney was about to beg himself, but that wasn’t what John wanted to hear. Rodney thought he had to ask for it, but John was desperate to be the one on his knees. Hell he was the one on his knees.

The slightest shift let Rodney’s cock brush John’s cheek. They both shuddered but John kept his eyes open while Rodney’s squeezed shut. “Please,” He whispered and then Rodney was staring at him again like he had no idea what John wanted. What John was talking about, as if he’d suddenly switched languages.

“Come on, please Rodney,” John murmured, pressing against Rodney’s thighs with his shoulders. Finally, after another long stare, Rodney relaxed his hands and let his thighs fall open even wider, feet touching the bed. Now, now John could touch.

He sucked, hard and soft right on the spot behind Rodney’s balls. John loved the skin on Rodney’s cock, vivid and smooth, so he went there next, running his tongue along the vein and pausing to savor the head. Rodney was squirming, eyes stuck open and fixed on John’s mouth.

John took pity on him and reached for the lube, figuring he could give Rodney this much. Slippy-slick fingers pressed in and Rodney gasped, lips thin with tension. John resisted the urge to kiss them and returned to his previous task, sucking Rodney down while opening him up. Rodney was tight, freezing and then thawing when John pushed another finger inside. Rodney was going to want it slow and easy, at least until John got done with him.

Then Rodney would want to beg for it hard and fast, but he wasn’t going to get to. Begging was John’s thing. Rodney, well he got to give orders. Ask anyone; Rodney gave commands. John belonged on his knees.

Eventually, Rodney would get it.

A third finger, but only for a couple of thrusts. John eased his hand back and levered himself over Rodney, draping heavy legs over his shoulders. Rodney felt so good like that, weighing him down. John lined himself up and paused, torn between wanting to just shove himself in and giving into the urge to wait, to ask. If only Rodney would figure it out, use that genius brain and give John what he wanted.

“Wait.”

John looked down at Rodney, frozen in place. The head of his cock was right there, barely pushing at Rodney’s entrance. “What do you want?” Rodney asked, his voice surprisingly calm despite him being breathless.

A hard swallow and a deep breath, and then John could answer. “I—I want inside, Rodney.”

Another pause.

“Do you?”

Oh, this was perfect and John nearly came hearing those words. “Yes, please Rodney let me inside. I wanna fuck you, please just...please,” He said in a rush, words tumbling out until he ran out of air.

Rodney was silent, mouth pursed. He was thinking about it. John wasn’t going to make it; he was so close. “Slow,” Rodney ordered.

John took another deep breath and rocked forward, exhaling a soundless thank you. “Slower,” Rodney barked when John breached him, forcing John to move impossibly. There was no way to go slower; Rodney was tight and slick. He had to stop, had to find a little control, had to—“I can’t,” He pleaded, voice cracking. This wasn’t slow, it was pause and he was only halfway in, Rodney gripping him so hard he couldn’t see.

Rodney squeezed him even harder. “Can’t you?”

The words had John bucking forward, sliding the rest of the way in all at once. “Sorry, too fast, god Rodney I—

John’s voice was stopped by Rodney’s mouth, hard and demanding. He gave into it, tongue sliding along Rodney’s while he thrust in again, Rodney arching into each movement.

This wasn’t slow; it was nothing like slow. Fast and rough, but John couldn’t slow down. Rodney didn’t want him to, not when his feet were shoved into John’s back and his hands were digging furrows into John’s arms. John hitched his knees and dug in and Rodney screamed into the kiss. That spot, the right one, and John shortened his stroke, hitting it over and over. He shoved one hand in between them, pulling at Rodney’s cock. He wanted to feel it, had to have Rodney milk him dry.

Rodney broke the kiss, gasping for breath. John was afraid Rodney would let go of him, take himself in hand. He needed Rodney to hold him in place, to make him keep going. Hard, deep, and fast even though Rodney wanted slow. “Please, Rodney. Come, come for me. Please,” and John knew he was babbling. Rodney probably couldn’t understand him at this point. He was so close, all he wanted was for Rodney to push him over.

A sharp cry and then John was there, Rodney’s body holding him closer than his hands. John’s own hand grew slick, but he wasn’t watching that; he saw only Rodney’s expression. Shocked bliss, more pleasure than he’d expected racing along eager nerves. John was in awe.

And John was coming, pushing in one last time before spilling himself inside Rodney. The muscles in his legs twitched once and he was sliding sideways, Rodney keeping them together as they fell apart. John found Rodney’s mouth again, twining one numb foot between Rodney’s calves until he got the picture and knotted them together again. They were both shaking, sore from exertion and too-harsh hands. Sweaty, hot and this shouldn’t feel as good as it did. It felt like he was still in the middle of climax and not trying to survive the aftermath, Rodney holding him so tight like he might never let go.

John was in no mood to ask him to.