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Flying Blind

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"I'm just not sure I see the point," Rodney said, aware that his voice was rising but unable to stop it. "Since I tend to, you know, enjoy looking at you." The blindfold was distressingly snug around his eyes, and John had fastened a sleepshade underneath it to make absolutely sure Rodney wouldn't be able to see a damn thing.

"Shut up, Rodney." John's voice was fond. It was coming from Rodney's left, so Rodney turned his face in that direction as though it would help him see. But nothing happened, and Rodney suppressed a shiver. His quarters were chilly. He wasn't wearing his shirt, because John had pointed out that taking it off would probably dislodge the blindfold so they might as well start without it. Which had seemed reasonable at the time, but at the moment... at the moment Rodney felt kind of ridiculous, sitting at the edge of his bed with no shirt on and two layers of fabric covering his eyes.

Just when he thought he might snap if somebody didn't do something soon, fingers lifted his right hand and turned it over, and then John was pressing an openmouthed kiss against the heel of his hand.

"Hm," Rodney said appreciatively. He heard John's exhale before he felt lips brush the inside of his elbow, and then there was a rub of stubble along his bicep -- John had to be rubbing his face against Rodney's arm like a cat.

And then nothing. Just silence, and cool air, and it was all Rodney could do not to panic. When John was touching him he could almost understand why this was kinky; when he wasn't, Rodney just felt isolated. Too aware that John was looking at him and he couldn't look back.

"John," Rodney said, somewhere between nervous and irritable, and John pushed his thighs further apart. That was exciting; Rodney sucked in a breath.

He almost thought he could feel the heat of John's body between his legs. Was John still crouching there, or had he moved? Rodney wasn't sure why he didn't just close his thighs -- if John were there, he'd know in a heartbeat -- but somehow that seemed like cheating.

And then -- oh, God -- yes, that was John breathing hotly through his trousers. Holding himself back so there wasn't any pressure through the cloth, just the heat of John's breath. Unthinking Rodney strained upward, wanting more, and John mouthed him once before pulling away.

"Fuck," Rodney swore, and John laughed.

And then the bed behind him dipped. Was John climbing onto the bed behind him? Rodney quashed a moment of frustration (it had seemed like there was going to be a blowjob!) before John kissed the back of his neck. And then John bit, and sucked hard, and Rodney groaned, his dick aching. He bent his head forward, wanting to say yes and more, and John took the hint. By the time he pulled back Rodney was tingling. He was going to have a serious hickey there in the morning and he did not care.

John's hands skated over Rodney's shoulders, sliding down to rub lightly over his nipples, back and forth. Rodney let his head fall back on John's shoulder, sighing. His eyes were closed now and his body was thrumming.

"You have any idea how good you look like this," John murmured. It wan't quite a question.

Rodney licked his lips and shifted his pelvis, pushing his dick up against the fabric of his trousers.

"I could jerk off to this picture for the rest of my life." John's lips were right beside his ear, his voice was low and rough, and Rodney shuddered.

"You don't have to." Rodney was breathing hard, straining up, craving John's next touch.

John bit his earlobe lightly. "Guess not," he said.

John shifted, pulling Rodney back onto the bed and shimmying out from behind him. Rodney sank back onto his own pillows, which felt soft and strange after John's firm chest.

And then for a moment there was nothing, and Rodney flailed, opening his eyes in the complete darkness. "John--"

"I've got you," John said, and Rodney felt hands unfastening his BDUs and tugging them away. The whisper of cool air over his overheated cock was almost more than he could bear, but then John sucked him in.

Rodney moaned, caught off-guard by the intensity of sensation. Everything in Rodney was focused on the hot wet slip of John's mouth over his cock. This was familiar, and Rodney latched onto it like a lifeline.

In his temporary blindness sounds were magnified. The lascivious noises of John sucking his dick, the click of Atlantis' heating system kicking into gear across the room, and -- oh, fuck -- the sounds of skin on skin: John was working himself. Rodney could picture it: John's cheekbones hollowed by suction, one hairy arm disappearing between his legs. Had he even bothered to take his own trousers off? John was breathing hard through his nose, quick little breaths that meant he was close.

"I want you to come on me," Rodney gasped, and John stilled and then pulled away. For a split second Rodney worried: was that too far out? but then John choked out a gasp and Rodney felt hot wet pulses striping him from thigh to chest.

"Fuck," Rodney managed, reaching down to clench at the root of his wet dick, and that was all it took: one thrust up through his fingers and he was coming hot and hard all over himself.

"You have no idea how badly I want a picture of you right now," John said, after a while, and Rodney barked out a laugh, surprised.

"I think that would be imprudent," Rodney said, though he couldn't help the flush of satisfied pleasure that suffused him at the thought. John wanted a pin-up of him? Wonders really would never cease.

"Yeah, I kind of figured that one out." John's voice was dry. The bed shifted and Rodney heard footsteps, then water running, then footsteps again, and a warm washcloth stroked across his belly.

Any second now one of them was going to take the blindfold off. Emboldened by the last moments of darkness, Rodney added, "we could probably do it again sometime."

"That's big of you," John said, and Rodney could hear his smile.

"If you really wanted to," Rodney added magnanimously, and exhaled happily, and closed his eyes.