Sex with Rodney is, all things considered, pretty excellent. Rodney loves getting head, and John has no qualms about staying on his knees for as long as Rodney wants. He's good about getting John off, too- not every time, naturally, because he likes to keep John on his toes, but more than enough to keep John satisfied. He'll gladly jerk him off or, even better, make him jerk off or, better than that, suck his cock; one supremely hot time, he even makes John rub off on his boot, which will be enough fantasy material to last John a very long time. So yeah, John is more or less totally happy about this arrangement.
It's just that John hasn't had sex with Rodney, and it's starting to get to him.
One evening, John attempts to explain, by means of clumsy hand motions and circumlocution; Rodney's face breaks out into a smile. "You should have said," Rodney tells him, dragging him towards the bed, and John sighs in relief.
Except that that time ends up with Rodney bent over and barking out orders, telling John exactly how hard and fast he wants it, pushing back against him to get exactly what he needs.
Not what I meant, he thinks, even as he's coming inside Rodney's ass.
He tells himself it doesn't bother him at all; it even works, for the first little while, because everything else is great. Rodney is protective and surprisingly giving and utterly devoted to John; he's bossy and a little mean and still John's best friend. And John would do anything at all for Rodney, wants to give him everything.
But that's the whole problem: there's still one thing he hasn't given up to Rodney, because Rodney won't fucking take it.
It eats at him, frustration and rejection mixed together; he can feel himself starting to get snippy with Rodney- not enough for Rodney to notice, hopefully, but enough that he can feel it himself. It gets to be too much, finally, and John chickens out on telling him more than once before it finally happens.
John is waiting in Rodney's room after dinner, as usual, sitting on the floor reading comic books until Rodney finally tears himself away from the lab.
"Zelenka's trying to kill us all again," Rodney says when he finally arrives, by way of explanation, clearing the mess on his desk out of the way to set his laptop down. He sits down heavily in his chair and snaps his fingers, imperious as always. "Get over here and suck me off."
John doesn't move, giving him a look that hopefully isn't too insubordinate. "What if I don't want to?"
"Excuse me?" Rodney snaps, narrowing his eyes. "Are you trying to make me force you, you little slut? Because believe me, I will do it."
Just hearing that makes John want to melt into a puddle; he's really tempted to just let it go for another night. "Yellow," he sighs, resisting the temptation.
All the fight goes out of Rodney at once. "What's wrong?" he asks, his eyes full of concern. John tries to talk about it; given his particular relationship with talking, it's not surprising that he fails entirely on the first go. "You can really tell me anything, I promise," Rodney adds. "I mean, I can't make any promises about my reaction, but you can always tell me."
John's been considering this moment for a long time, carefully pondering what to do and how to approach it, but what comes out of his mouth is, "Why won't you just put it in me?"
Rodney is taken aback at the question. "What?"
John's aware he may be pouting, but now that he's in it, he doesn't back down. "We've been at this for a while now. Are you gonna fuck me or not?"
"I hadn't thought about it," Rodney says, still slightly flabbergasted.
John resists the urge to smack himself in the forehead. "The worst part is, I know you're telling the truth."
"I was getting off, you were getting off, it didn't seem to be an issue," Rodney protests.
"Yeah, well, it is," John says, making to get up; any possibility there might have been of a mood is dead, and he might as well go back to his room and call it a night.
"I didn't say you could go," Rodney says firmly. "Take off your clothes and get on the bed."
"Now, John," he says, his voice holding no room for argument.
It's on the tip of his tongue to call out again, but doing it when he's finally this close to what he wants would just be bratty, and not in the good way. Instead, he undresses slowly, kicking his clothes out of the way, and climbs into the bed, laying on his back and letting his legs sprawl open.
Rodney strips quickly and gets up in between his legs, bending down to kiss him, just once, hard and biting like John likes it. John's still striving up for more when he pulls away, replacing his mouth with his fingers. "Get them wet," he says, his other hand reaching down to palm John's cock, which is just starting to get interested in the proceedings. John shuts his eyes, sucking on Rodney's fingers just like they were his cock, working his tongue against them. "You're not making it easy for me not to shove my cock down your throat," Rodney says, his voice low, and John looks up at him, sucking harder.
Rodney pulls away entirely, sitting back on his heels. He looks down at John contemplatively, shoving his thighs wider apart; he pushes his thumb into John's ass, and John has to bite his lip to keep from groaning. "You know, now I'm not sure why I didn't do this sooner."
John doesn't rise to it, just tries to push against Rodney's finger and look at him suggestively. This started off sort of jacked up and half-assed, but John's quickly getting into it. Rodney doesn't hesitate to give him more, two fingers now, pressing them in hard. He's starting to breathe a little heavier, his cock getting harder, and it's ridiculous how relieved that makes John, knowing that he actually wants this.
It's awkward, but Rodney just manages to keep his fingers inside John and reach the bottle of lotion that's sitting on the shelf beside his bed. He pulls his fingers out, slicking them up properly before sliding them back in, and everything's easier now. John spreads his thighs wider in invitation, but Rodney just keeps working him with his fingers. John wants to protest so badly, to demand that Rodney get on with it, but he knows it'll only make him slow down further; he bites his lip, determined to do good.
Rodney withdraws his fingers, finally, making a show of pouring the lotion over his cock; now John knows that he's fucking with him on purpose. "Get ready," Rodney says, positioning himself and pressing inside, and there's no way John could, no way to stop the way he throws back his head and moans as Rodney pushes into him, slow but inexorable; it hurts and it feels so good, the way it never does with his fingers or a toy.
Rodney is panting as he looks down at John. "Okay?"
John hooks a leg around his waist. "More than okay."
"Good," Rodney says, putting his hands on John's shoulders and thrusting into him, hard enough that it takes John's breath away. "Because I'm not going to stop."
John's about to respond when Rodney moves again; this time he hits John's prostate, and whatever John was going to say flies right out of his head. He reaches up and clutches at Rodney's back as Rodney fucks him, hard and tight and just like John always wanted. John's not going to last any time at all, and from the looks of it, Rodney isn't either, but that's okay. Now that he's got it, John thinks he can probably have it all the time.
"Can you come like this?" Rodney asks, his voice strained, and John wants so badly to say yes, do it harder, but he knows he can't, not quite. He shakes his head, but Rodney doesn't seem fussed about it; he wraps his hand around John's cock, stroking him fast and hard. "I want to see you come," is all he needs to say and John's right there, spilling out over Rodney's hand.
"Oh, fuck," Rodney grits out, and then he's coming, letting out a satisfied groan.
John doesn't bother to move as Rodney withdraws, other than to arch his back, cracking it in a few places. "This is so messy," Rodney says disapprovingly, climbing out of bed, and John's a little heartbroken for a second before he adds, "Remind me we need a towel next time."
"Will do," John says, letting his eyes drift shut.