Rodney stared. John could do this every day for the next hundred years and Rodney would still stare. Because that was John's curvy mouth stretched around his cock. And those happy little grunting sounds were coming from John's throat, and John looked so damn good with his eyes closed and that blissful expression on his face.
Sucking Rodney's cock made John blissful.
Tongue curling around the underside, John moved back and forth, each pull of his mouth taking Rodney closer, until he had Rodney right there, hanging on the edge. Then he stopped and just held Rodney in his mouth for a moment before opening his eyes. Gaze locking on Rodney's he drew slowly back. As Rodney's cock slipped from his mouth he pressed a kiss to the head and rose to his feet.
Heart pounding, Rodney watched him as John removed his thigh holster, his hand needlessly brushing his cock, then his belt, letting both fall to the floor beside him. He'd stripped Rodney as soon as they'd started and Rodney wanted John to be as naked as he was. John stretched as he lifted his shirt over his head. Every inch of John's chest was familiar now, old hat, explored territory, yet the sight of it still made his mouth water.
John bent to untie his shoes. He could have simply toed them off, but he was prolonging things on purpose. He did that sometimes; Rodney didn't mind. Watching John get naked was a pleasure, even if it had taken him some time to learn to appreciate it. At first he'd been too anxious to get his hands on John, to touch, to feel John everywhere.
Standing, John began opening his pants, his eyes on Rodney's face. Rodney couldn't figure out if John's nudity was supposed to be a gift or a challenge. Not that it mattered.
Pants around his ankles, John stepped from them. He was wearing just his boxers now. Light blue boxers, and who'd have thought that John would have boring underwear. Rodney didn't care how boring they were as long as he could get inside them.
His erection was pushing against his boxers, tenting them, and John stroked himself through the fabric, running his fingers up the underside.
Rodney bit his lip to keep from groaning.
John pushed his boxers to the floor and Rodney thought for a moment that maybe he'd take himself in hand. John hadn't jerked off for him in months, and Rodney wanted to watch him touch himself. There wasn't anything like watching John jerk off, knowing that he, Rodney McKay, was the only person John had ever done that for, the only person John gave it up for.
But John didn't touch himself. Instead he turned away and knelt on the bed, his back to Rodney. Then he leaned forward until his cheek and the tops of his shoulders were pressed into the bed and reached back, took a cheek in each hand and pulled them apart.
Afraid he might come just from the sight, Rodney squeezed the base of his cock.
Approaching the bed, he knelt behind John and placed one hand on his back. With the other he traced the length of John's crack using a single finger. John made a small, encouraging sound.
Rodney pressed his tongue to John's opening, and John gasped. Oh, yeah, this was what John wanted. And Rodney was more than happy to give it to him. He pushed his tongue deep inside John, burying his nose in the space between John's cheeks.
Drawing back, he pushed in again, then again. But the next time he didn't push back inside, instead he pulled all the way out and licked around the edge of John's hole in widening circles.
Nipping gently at the end of John's finger, he slid his mouth up it, touching the tip of his tongue to the skin between John's fingers.
For the next several minutes, he focused on John's hands and the skin showing between them, nipping and licking, caressing John's ass and John's hands. He touched John's hands, rubbing his fingertips over them, feeling John's knuckles and surprisingly smooth skin, feeling John's ass in the V between his fingers.
John stayed perfectly still, his only response the sounds coming from inside him.
They were the only reaction Rodney needed.
Slowly he worked his way back to John's center, nuzzling, rubbing lightly with cheeks that needed shaving. John pushed back slightly as though he couldn't stop himself, and Rodney traced his opening with the tip of his tongue.
This time he worked his way inside slowly. Touching a little more deeply each time, teasing John with his tongue, until John began to push back.
When John began to rock his hips in time with Rodney's motions, Rodney stopped thrusting. John stilled and Rodney licked him a final time before sitting up and reaching for the condoms and lube.
He rolled the condom on quickly, trying not to touch himself too much. Then he filled his palm with the slick liquid and rose up onto his knees, sliding his cock through his hand, coating it with the lube. Two quick pushes through his fist, and he moved into position behind John, who was waiting patiently, still holding himself open.
Resting one hand on John's back, Rodney positioned himself with the other and pushed forward. John groaned and Rodney slid inside him with one long, smooth thrust.
He pulled back just as smoothly. Rodney was pretty sure that he fucked John better than he'd ever fucked anyone. It was like his body knew exactly what to do to make John feel good, what angles to use, how deep and how hard to thrust. He hadn't known those things at first, he'd had to learn, but once he had it felt as though he'd always known.
John dropped his hands to the bed as Rodney pushed back inside and Rodney could feel the sweet firm curve of John's ass pressing into his hips.
Leaning down, he placed a kiss on John's back before drawing back again. He loved fucking John like this, slow and steady, feeling John open for him, then close around him, his heat seeping into Rodney even through the condom, his softness a sweet caress.
Straightening, he gripped John's hip with one hand, using the other to stroke John's back, then his side. Stretching, he rubbed one of John's nipples, loving the feel of the hard nub beneath his fingers.
John began to move with him, and Rodney rested his hand on John's abdomen, feeling the flex of John's muscles as he moved.
And he watched his cock, watched himself move in and out of John's perfect ass.
John reached for his cock, and Rodney intervened, guiding John's hand underneath, past his balls, to where Rodney was sliding in and out. John groaned, but he didn't move his hand away. They were both feeling it, the stretch of John's ass, Rodney's cock, the two of them, fucking.
Moving his hand away, Rodney cupped John's balls in his hand, stopping their swaying. His own balls were slapping against the backs of John's fingers every time he pushed inside.
John arched his back toward Rodney's chest. Knowing what John wanted, Rodney wrapped both arms around him and shifted back onto his knees bringing John with him. It had taken a few tries for him to perfect that move, but it had been worth the effort, because John in his lap, writhing on his cock, was pretty much Rodney's idea of heaven.
Curling an arm around behind Rodney's neck, John began to move, working himself up and down. Rodney nuzzled his neck and squeezed one of his nipples. With his other hand he touched John everywhere, resting it on John's thigh, feeling his muscles work, before sliding it over his stomach, then down to briefly cup his balls and brush the head of his cock. Then he was running it through John's chest hair; John's chest hair was soft, and it felt good around Rodney's fingers.
He moved his hand up the length of John's neck and across John's open lips. They were so damn soft. He bent a finger and John's mouth closed around it. Rodney pushed it deeper. After a couple of thrusts, he added in a second one.
John sucked hard on his fingers, and Rodney worked them in and out, the rhythm a little faster than their fucking.
Wrapping his other hand around John's cock he began to stroke.
John was a bundle of pleasure in his arms, his body rubbing against Rodney's as he moved, fucking himself on Rodney's cock, sending pleasure through Rodney with every movement. His cock was its own pleasure, hard in Rodney's hand, caressing Rodney's palm as he stroked, undeniable evidence of John's own pleasure.
And John's mouth, John's sweet, sweet mouth, sucking on his fingers. Having your fingers sucked shouldn't feel that good. But it did.
Everything felt good. Better than good, and Rodney was going to come soon. Pulling his fingers from John's mouth, Rodney reached down and pressed one inside John, alongside his cock. It was awkward and could only get the first part of his finger inside. But it didn't matter as long as he could feel them moving together, fucking, joined.
John was tight and giving, and Rodney could feel his own cock, feel it move as he began lifting his hips. Then John came and everything overheated. John was shaking, trembling, writhing as he came, his whole body contracting around Rodney's cock and finger. Rodney let go of John's spurting cock to wrap an arm around him and hold John tight, feel him shake.
"Rodney," John groaned, dropping his head back onto Rodney's shoulder, his last spasm shaking him.
Rodney resumed lifting his hips, fucking John as powerfully as the position would allow. John moved with him, and it only took a few strokes before all the pleasure he'd been feeling concentrated itself at the base of his cock and let go. He felt his own cock pulse against the finger lodged inside John as he filled the condom, John's ass twitching a little in answer.
After feeling John come, his own climax was almost anti-climatic. Rodney didn't mind, he really didn't.
"I used to think I'd die in combat," John said quietly, and Rodney frowned, thinking the subject entirely wrong for post-coital conversation. "But I'm not. I'm going to die during sex. Seriously, one of these days you're going to fuck me into another realm of existence."
Rodney shook his head and squeezed John with the arm still holding tight to John's waist. "Only if I can go with you."
John made a contented sound. "Wouldn't have it any other way."
"Good," Rodney said, pressing his face against the curve of John's neck. "Good."