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"It might be a little hot," Rodney says. He's standing behind John, one arm wrapped around John's chest, and his dick's hard against John's ass. John can't see what Rodney's doing with his other hand; he's been blindfolded. It was the only way that Rodney would do – whatever it is he's about to do.

Instinctively, John tries to move back, but Rodney leans forward and there's nowhere to go.

"No, just... just hold still."

"So sorry for trying to get out of the way of something hot near my... god, that smells good," John says.

"Okay, don't move."

There's something warm, but not hot, encasing John's dick, and it feels... like liquid. It smells like chocolate. John squirms.

"I said, don't move!"

"Rodney, what the hell are you doing with my dick!"

"No, come on, listen, I measured everything exactly," Rodney wheedles. "Just the right temperature so it wouldn't burn but it would still be hot, just the right amount of grinding..."

"Grinding? Rodney! There should not be any grinding happening near my – my –"

"Don't be an idiot. You misunderstand. I already did the grinding."

Momentarily reassured that everything's safe, John says, "Huh. Why didn't I get to participate in that?"

Rodney thunks his forehead against John's shoulder. "You just didn't. Okay. Now stay like that for... let me see your watch."

John raises his arm.

"Two more minutes." Rodney's fingers slip around John's wrist as he sets the alarm.

"This better be good," John mumbles.

"This is better than good; this is going to be orgasmic," Rodney says smugly.

"Okay, well, there's something I can get behind," John says.

"I'm going to take the blindfold off now, but don't touch anything, got it? No. Touching." Rodney pauses. "This means you."

"I'm not six," John grumps.

"I mean it, John."

"Fine, no touching. Fine."

The blindfold comes off and John immediately looks down. His dick looks like it's been dipped in a thin layer of brown paint. With flecks of... sand? Gravel? What is that? He's reaching out to touch when Rodney smacks his hand away.

"What did I just say? No touching! It's not fully hard yet."

"It feels pretty hard to me," John leers.

"You are six," Rodney says, but when he moves around so John can see him, there's a fond smile on his face.

John sniffs the air. "So you dipped my dick in chocolate?"

"I like a creamy center," Rodney snarks. "Please, it's so much more than just chocolate."

John waits for more, raising an eyebrow in question.

"I added espresso beans," Rodney says, triumph in his voice.

"Huh?" John gapes.

"This is going to be amazing," Rodney says, and John makes out the glisten of drool in the corner of Rodney's mouth.

Okay, if it's got Rodney that excited, he's willing to wait and see.

They wait for two minutes. John watches while Rodney strokes his own cock. He has to ball his hands into fists so he doesn't try to mirror the action.

The alarm: beep-beep-beep.

Rodney licks his lips. John's seen that look before - it shows up right before Rodney's about to devour something tasty.

"What on earth is wrong with you?" John jokes.

Rodney shrugs. He sounds serious when he says, "Always wanted to try it. Never had anyone to try it with."

Talk about kicked in the - well, not balls. Guts, maybe.

Much like the chocolate on his cock, John melts a little. He trails a finger down the length of his dick, then sucks off the bit of chocolate. "What are you waiting for?"

Rodney flashes him a grin, and the first swipe of his tongue nearly brings John to his knees. What on earth was wrong with him, to question giving Rodney a dick dipped in coffee-flavored chocolate to suck on?

Watching Rodney nibble on the underside of his cock, John says, "I love fondue."