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John goes with everything.

Rodney's known this, well, pretty much from the beginning. John slips into situations, talks to trading partners easily, gives them that "Hello, I am very handsome, please sell me your various artifacts and squashes" smile, and everything goes like it's supposed to. He can bargain or labor or fight, and it's all kind of the same thing for him. It's the same with people; there's a never-ending- as far as Rodney can tell- stream of beautiful people who throw themselves at him, but that's not all. Everybody seems to like John's company, and John just smiles.

But Rodney can't, Rodney's not-

When Rodney was six, his teacher tried to-

When Rodney was in high school, this girl-

Look, there's a history behind it, okay, lots of illustrations he could put forth, but the point is that Rodney sticks out like a sore thumb. There are exceptions made for Rodney, and there always have been; half the time it's been behind his back, but more and more he's pushed for them, demanded the treatment that he thinks- he knows he deserves.

It bothers him, sometimes, because Rodney- there are times in the middle of the night when Rodney can't sleep, times when it gets to him, the thought that maybe he's not what he thinks he is. Maybe he's not great, maybe he's not smart, maybe he's not special, maybe he's not worthy. It's this big secret that Rodney carries around, the idea that he's not what he says he is; the idea that he's an impostor.

John's never thought that for a minute in his life, Rodney's pretty sure. John's always had it easy, always slipped through the cracks, never worried about it. John's never worked for it.

It bothers Rodney kind of a lot. He envies John sometimes, more than he says he does.

And so it's not all that surprising that it's Rodney that does it. This thing with John, it's been coming for a long time. Rodney thought it was very obvious and that everyone knew, and then he thought maybe it was very subtle and that no one knew, and then Ronon just up and said that he knew, that John and Rodney should just go off and fuck already, just to get it out of the way, just so it would stop fucking things up.

Rodney envies Ronon sometimes, too. It's weird, because Rodney is kind of more like Ronon than John when it comes to all this; Ronon's pushy in a way that Rodney can respect and understand.

So Rodney goes to John's room one night, early enough that it's not really intrusive, late enough that there's no one lurking in the hallways, looking for stray homosexuals sneaking around near the military quarters. In the back of his mind he knows that standing outside of John's door freaking out doesn't look nearly as gay-related as it is, but he worries about it anyway.

So Rodney knocks and John lets him in; John is smiling, just like he always does when Rodney comes to visit. Rodney likes to think that there's something to it, like there's a special look on his face, but that's ridiculous, how would he know that it's special, how could he possibly be able to tell when he's always in the room, it all falls apart, observer's paradox and everything-

John is looking at him a little funny, and Rodney realizes he's just standing here like an idiot, totally stalling.

"So," Rodney says, drawing his shoulders up, trying to look imposing. "It's time for us to talk." John gives him an uneasy look, and Rodney realizes he's going about this wrong. "I forgot," he says, frowning. "You don't do the talking thing. Look, I'll make this very brief, because if I don't I think we both know I'm going to lose my nerve and it's never going to get said, because god knows that you won't-" John is looking at him again, a little more annoyed this time. "Oh, for fuck's sake," Rodney says, rubbing his forehead. "Okay. You and me."

"Yeah?" John says, and he looks nervous.

"Are we doing this or not?" Rodney says. "Because I'm getting tired, and Ronon is getting impatient, and-"

"What's Ronon got to do with this?" he says warily.

"Ronon's not the point," Rodney tells him, waving a hand at him. "Ronon has nothing to do with this. Me, you, is this happening-" Rodney holds up his hand for silence- "and don't say you don't know what I'm talking about, because half the city knows what I'm talking about, and I think if we maybe just did it, it wouldn't be so obvious."

John raises his eyebrows. "Doing it's going to make it better? How does that work?"

"It's all very simple," Rodney says, and he's getting more agitated by the minute; this was a bad plan, this was a horrible plan, why the hell did he let Ronon talk him into this. "Look, answer me, or I'm leaving. You, me, yes, no?"

"That's a really big question," John says, licking his lips.

Rodney sighs. "I'm aware. You have no idea how aware of that I am."

"Do you want to?" John asks, hesitantly.

"Don't be stupid," he snaps. "If I didn't I wouldn't be standing here."

Very carefully, John gets up from his bed; he walks over to Rodney and puts his hands on his shoulders. He doesn't do anything for a minute, and Rodney's concerned that his next move is going to be giving Rodney the talk, telling him how he's blown this all out of proportion and that he likes him, but he doesn't like like him, and it's going to be like sixth grade and Rodney is going to hate him, hate both of them-

And somewhere in the middle of it, John leans in and kisses him, feather light, like he's afraid Rodney's going to bolt, that he's going to decide at the last second that this is the worst idea he's ever had.

Rodney's pretty sure this is the best idea he's ever had.

At this point, Rodney kind of wants to just throw him on the floor and fuck him silly, but that's not what happens. Instead, Rodney slips his arms around John's waist, pulling him forward a little, just to the right spot to kiss him properly; John lets him in, just like that, sighing into his mouth. Rodney's shoulders slump in relief, and he leans into John, pressing their bodies together.

"I'm sorry I didn't-" John says, shaking his head. "I should have earlier-"

"Oh no," Rodney says firmly. "We're not having the regret talk. We're not doing the regret thing. We've got good here, we're not wasting it talking about bad."

John smiles at him. "Cool."

"Now get on the bed," Rodney tells him. "I'm going to suck you off."

John gives him a look. "You're fast."

"There is nothing fast about this," Rodney tells him. "This has been stupidly slow. This has been galacial. We're catching up, and we're doing it right now."

"Can do," John says, grinning. He's wearing a soft-looking black t-shirt, and he pulls it off over his head; when he turns to throw it towards the pile of laundry in the corner, Rodney gets very distracted looking at him, the play of his muscles.

"You there?" John says, amused, and Rodney snaps his eyes up.

"Yes, sorry, don't mind me," he says, and John shakes his head; Rodney's pretty sure he's screwed up again, but John pulls him forward, kissing him again, deeper this time, harder, wetter, and this is the good stuff, the real quality kissing.

That's distracting too, as is the feel of John's skin beneath his hands, but Rodney's fingers still seem to be on message, reaching down for the fly of John's pants, unbuttoning and unzipping. John moans when Rodney's hand finds his dick, and he pulls away from Rodney's mouth, looking at him intently. "You said something about a bed."

"Yes, right," Rodney says, making a shooing motion. "Off you go." John just shakes his head, but he steps out of his jeans and goes over. He looks a little uncertain when he gets there, looking at Rodney, and it takes Rodney a second to figure out what the hell his problem is. "On your back," he says. "Trust me, I'm very excited about all this, but not enough to wreck my knees."

John looks like he wants to say something, but he just shakes his head; it's very smart of him, Rodney thinks approvingly, not to back-talk the guy who's about to have his cock in his mouth. Rodney takes a minute, psyching himself up; he's really ready for this, but it's been a while, and, well, he's got a right to be nervous.

He walks over and makes to get up on the bed, but John gives him a funny look. "Aren't you gonna take your clothes off?"

Rodney is sort of startled. "Am I supposed to?"

John is looking at him like he's got three heads. "Well, yeah, that's how these things usually go," he says. "You could take your shoes off, at least."

Rodney is highly skeptical of all of this. Of course he wants to see John naked, but that doesn't necessarily go the other way; in Rodney's experience, it hasn't all that often. "I don't know why you want me to."

John rolls his eyes upward, like he's looking for help from on high. "I don't want to be That Guy," he says, which means that he's just about to be That Guy, "but are we really going to argue about this, or are you going to suck my dick? Because you said you would."

Rodney crosses his arms. "I just want clarification-"

"Rodney," John snaps. "Take your clothes off and come over here."

That's kind of hot, actually, the snapping and ordering about, and Rodney makes a note of it for later. With no little trepidation, he takes his shirt off, dropping it carelessly onto the floor, and unzips his pants, pushing them down and kicking them off. He has a serious moment concerning his boxers, but John's still wearing his, so it doesn't seem fair.

He walks over to the bed, climbing on top of John and leaning down to kiss him; the whole blowjob thing kind of gets lost in the shuffle for a minute, because he's hard and John's hard and even with the fabric between them, it's really nice to stay there and just sort of grind on each other for a while.

"Okay, okay, jesus," John says, sounding a little breathless, pushing on Rodney's shoulder hard.

"I can't believe you're doing the 'shoving me towards your cock' thing," Rodney says reproachfully, but he lets himself be pushed; he leans up, reaching for the waistband of John's boxers, pulling them carefully down over his cock and off his legs, dropping them off the side of the bed.

"This was your idea," John reminds him.

"If you push on my head, I'm leaving," Rodney warns him, and then his mouth is around John's cock, and it's pretty much exactly what Rodney's been wanting for a very long time. He tastes so good, the head of his cock feeling so smooth against his tongue; Rodney has to hold John down by his hips for a second, because he's trying to rush this process. Rodney doesn't blame him; it's just that he and John's cock need a second to get acquainted, and if John could please just stay out of it until he's needed, that would be great.

Rodney's really glad, right in that moment, that John can't read minds.

He leans down a little more, taking it further into his mouth, and now it's time to get this show on the road. He moves his head while he sucks, slowly at first, because he feels like this isn't a quick and dirty situation.

They're going to have quick and dirty situations. Very dirty. Quick is negotiable. Dirty isn't.

John puts his hand in Rodney's hair, but he doesn't push, just scratching his fingernails over Rodney's scalp, which feels very nice, sort of soothing, a counterpoint to the way his heart is trying to beat out of his chest. John is talking, too, though Rodney's not listening all that much; he's saying things like look at you and god that's good and Rodney, jesus, do it again. Rodney likes the sound of them, likes how all this is going, just exactly the way he planned it.

His plans are very good. This one he spent a very, very long time on, so it follows it should be better than most.

He starts moving quicker, taking more of John's cock in, working his tongue while he sucks; it's really great and he really could do this all day, but not tonight. He almost feels like he should make John work for it, hold out on the really, really good stuff until John's really earned it. That thought makes him a little giddy, which probably means it's a bad idea; that's fine, though. Rodney's getting a little better at picking the good kinds of bad ideas.

He moves his tongue just so, a thing that this guy- it's not important, the point is that it's very effective, never-fail; John moans loudly, pushing up into Rodney's mouth. And oh, Rodney likes to see that, likes how John's already coming apart, letting Rodney do this to him, giving it up for him.

Now Rodney's getting impatient; again, willing to do this all day, but not unless he's come first, and he hasn't. His dick is rubbing up against the bed, and he's not exactly a humanitarian when it comes to things like this; he wants to get John off, make it as good as possible, but he's also really impatient, which should be a surprise to exactly no one.

He speeds up, wrapping his hand around the base of John's cock, moving his head faster. John is making noises now, very good noises, yelling a little and calling out Rodney's name. Rodney does that thing again, and then his mouth is filling up; he really hates this part, but pretending to like it is part and parcel to this whole thing, just one of the things that one is expected to do, because anything else would be really impolite.

Really now. Come on.

So he swallows it down without a fuss, trying to ignore the taste; before Rodney even knows what's going on, before he's even stopped coming, John pulls him up, kissing him frantically. Rodney has a little triumphant moment to himself, but it's only a little one; the last thing he wants right now is to be distracted.

But it's fine, because John knows exactly where Rodney's at; he reaches down between them, slipping his hand into Rodney's boxers and taking a hold of his dick, and Rodney pushes into his fist, desperate for the friction, wanting to get off so badly. Giving head always does this to him, which is just fine, because it just motivates him to give more head.

Everyone wins.

John is moving his hand faster, and he's kissing Rodney everywhere, sucking on this one spot on his neck that feels amazing, and Rodney makes a desperate sound and comes, all over both their stomachs. It's going to feel awful in a couple of minutes, especially if they get stuck together, but right now nothing in the world feels awful at all.

John just keeps kissing him and kissing him, until Rodney raises himself up, looking down at him. "So, yes?"

John grins at him. "You have to ask?"

"Of course I do," Rodney says. "Have you met me?"

John leans up to kiss him again. "Yes." He sees the look on Rodney's face. "That's a yes to the first question and a yes to the second one."

"Thank you for the clarification," Rodney says, and he's only being halfway sarcastic. He rolls to the side, giving John some room to breathe, but John doesn't seem to see the point, turning towards him and wrapping a leg around his thighs.

"So how is this supposed to make things less obvious?" John asks.

"It's very simple," Rodney says, a little put out at having to explain. He puts up two fingers, holding them far apart. "You and me, not together, pining over each other, very obvious." He touches them together. "You and me, together, not pining, not obvious." He stops, suddenly, and he realizes at exactly that moment that there's a high possibility that everything is going to be totally fucked within the next thirty seconds. The whole sex thing, that part John signed on for, but that's not what Rodney said; Rodney said together, and that's a big word, a scary word.

"Makes sense," John says approvingly, and Rodney sighs gratefully.

And it's all come back around now, because this is just them all over: it's Rodney pushing and John accepting, Rodney making waves and John letting them roll over him. John goes with everything, everybody; but as long as he goes with Rodney, Rodney's got no problem with that at all.