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Say It with a Sharpie (the Verdana 12pt Remix)

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All through breakfast, John kept giving Rodney this weird look--the kind of look that made Rodney want to check his teeth or his chin, sure he was looking messy or something. There was nothing wrong with him, however, and with a mental shrug, Rodney turned back to his oatmeal. John was weird, no doubt about it.

Then, after the briefing, John gave him that look again and smacked him on the shoulder. Rodney didn't think he'd said anything particularly stupid or annoying--at least no more than usual. Certainly nothing to warrant a smack on the shoulder. He felt conspicuous as he headed toward the transporter, and when he glanced back, John quickly looked away and headed somewhere else.

His behavior was vaguely familiar, but it was only when Rodney had started his simulation and settled down at his desk to work on something more routine that he figured it out. John used to look at him like that before they started sleeping together. Did he want something new? He was already really possessive--which was more than fine with Rodney--and they were mildly kinky, which also worked for Rodney. In fact, maybe because they'd been friends first, this was turning into one of the best relationships of Rodney's life.

Only now, John was acting strange...was it something about Rodney's shoulder? He had a very vague memory of something tickling him before John got up last night. Had he been bitten by something?

Looking at the back of your own shoulder wasn't easy, even with a mirror, but when Rodney realized there was a word there, he twisted around until he could see it.


For a second Rodney wasn't sure if he was mad or turned on, but then he realized his dick was hard, and, looking in the mirror, he could see how flushed his cheeks were. Humiliation wasn't one of his kinks, and if it was something John wanted...but no, this felt different somehow. It was typical of John to approach it so obliquely, he thought as he pulled his shirt back on. They'd never really negotiated anything--a few weeks after they started sleeping together, John had started getting pushy and Rodney had happily gone along with it. He had no idea John was interested in humiliation...or was he?

Huh, he thought as he settled back down in front of his computer. Does he want me to act like a whore or just feel embarrassed by how much I like sex?

Not that it mattered in the short term. Rodney's simulation would take forever to run and he had to keep an eye on it, so he'd told John he'd be in the lab until around three in the morning. They didn't have any missions scheduled for a couple of days, and it had seemed like the perfect time to do a little actual science. Now, however, Rodney was feeling distracted enough to be glad the computers were doing most of the work.

He made it through the night and the rest of the next day by sheer determination. That--and a certain degree of pride--enabled him to act normal around John, and now that he knew what was going on, he could tell that his attitude was distracting the hell out of John. It was kind of funny, really, and it certainly helped Rodney deal with his own distraction.

Finally, dinner was over and they walked casually back to Rodney's room. John followed him in without even asking, and Rodney was sure he was going to say something about the word on Rodney's shoulder, but instead he snapped out, "Get your shirt off and get down on your knees."

"Let me get a pillow," Rodney said, swallowing hard. John acting like this--stern and intense and totally unlike his usual laid-back attitude--never failed to turn Rodney on.

Once he had the pillow in place and his shirt off, Rodney dropped to his knees, bowing his head just a little to enable John to see his shoulder. He thought he heard John's breath catch, but then John was unzipping his pants and grabbing the back of Rodney's neck. Barely giving Rodney time to brace himself, John pushed him down hard.

It was pretty clear John wasn't interested in anything fancy. He also didn't say anything, didn't call Rodney names, and Rodney figured John had either chickened out, which was doubtful, or he was just looking for whorish enthusiasm. Rodney was amused for a moment--he suspected most prostitutes only pretended to be enthusiastic--but then there was John's dick, thick and hard and perfect and not funny at all. Taking a deep breath, Rodney sucked it in as hard as he could and let John fuck his mouth.

Before too long, Rodney was moaning and breathless and hard, and knowing that John didn't care if Rodney liked this or not made it even better. John's hand was still heavy on the back of Rodney's neck, and Rodney was sure John was looking at the word on his shoulder. Your whore, Rodney thought as John pushed in hard and cut off Rodney's air.

He swallowed when John came and then rested his head for a moment on John's thigh, panting and wondering if John would say something about the word. Instead, John traced an idle pattern across the sensitive back of Rodney's neck and laughed when Rodney squirmed. "You want to get off?"

"Yes," Rodney said. "Please?" he added. "Please let me come, John?"

"I don't sound like you want to."

"I do...I really do. C'mon, John, please? You don't have to do anything...just let me jerk off...please!"

John's hand moved down to Rodney's shoulder--the one with the writing on it--and he shoved Rodney back a little. "Spread your knees...yeah, like that." John shoved his leg in between Rodney's knees and pressed it up hard against Rodney's dick. "Go know you want to."

Again, Rodney wasn't sure if he was supposed to feel humiliated or not. He wasn't, not really; rubbing off against John's boot was one of the hotter things he'd ever done, and as he came, panting out John's name, he hoped that next time John would let him take his pants off first.

Later, when John was in the bathroom, Rodney made sure to put one of his Sharpies on the nightstand. He wasn't sure if John would do it again...hell, he wasn't sure if John had gotten what he wanted out of the whole thing, but then it was hard to tell with John. It wouldn't hurt to make things easy for him if he wanted to do it again.

In spite of his curiosity, Rodney fell asleep pretty quickly and slept soundly; John was gone when he woke up the next morning. The Sharpie was still on Rodney's nightstand, and when he looked at his shoulder in the mirror there wasn't anything new. Of course, John might have written somewhere else, and so Rodney twisted and turned, checking out his back and...yeah, there it was. A new word, written on his left ass cheek.


Huh, Rodney thought. He still wasn't sure if John was trying to humiliate him, but the fact that John hadn't said anything cruel or demeaning the night before had to mean something. Or maybe not. It's not like he ever talks about what we're doing.

Rodney paused and thought back over the last couple of months. Not only had they never negotiated anything, but John just did things to Rodney. Oh, he talked, but even last night, he'd just put his booted foot in between Rodney's legs and gone from there. So telling me what to do is okay, but asking about something? Not so much. For a moment, Rodney was kind of annoyed. The tops he'd been with before had often asked if this or that was okay; why hadn't John?

Because he knows damn well that if you don't want to do something, you'll tell him. The level of trust was kind of staggering, and even knowing that John had a hard time talking things through didn't make it any less important.

By the time Rodney got dressed, he'd figured out what to do about the word on his ass.

Step one was to act like he didn't know it was there. Even if the no talking thing was a sign of John's trust, Rodney wasn't going to make it easy on him. It wasn't easy on Rodney himself--as he had been for the last couple of days, Rodney was acutely aware of the letters on his skin. The temptation to tease John or behave a little more provocatively was pretty strong, but Rodney managed to resist it. It was pretty clear that his seeming indifference was driving John up a wall, and maybe Rodney was John's sub or whatever, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy himself.

Step Two....

Step Two involved lube and his ass and his fingers, and damn, but the sharp gasp of breath from John when he came into Rodney's quarters and found Rodney on his knees and one elbow with a couple of fingers stuffed up his ass was more than worth Rodney's desperate need to get fucked right now. John's clothes hit the floor pretty damn fast--it sounded like he was just as desperate as Rodney.

Or maybe he wasn't, because when he was finally buried balls deep in Rodney's ass, he stopped and then fucked Rodney with slow easy strokes, one hand on Rodney's hip. Rodney had been on the bed fingering his ass for a very long twenty minutes before John came in, and now he pushed back hard, totally okay with acting like the slut John apparently wanted him to be.

The slap--on the cheek John had written on--came as a surprise. A very good surprise; Rodney groaned and shivered as John stopped inside him. Another slap and Rodney groaned again, hoping he was making it clear how much he liked this. John did it again and then again, until Rodney, his ass hot and stinging, started begging.

"John...c'mon...please...fuck me...need it...want it...ow! Oh God, don't stop...hurts good...need it...c'mon John, fuck me! Please?!"

John smacked him a few more times before pulling back and then shoving in hard. Rodney groaned and went down onto his shoulder and then groaned again when the angle made things that much better. John was pounding into him now, and even through the blur of pain and need, Rodney was sure John was looking at his ass.

Slut, Rodney thought. That's know it...your slut....

He came hard and fast and John fucked him right through it, and it hurt and felt so fucking incredible that, if Rodney was still in his twenties, he'd have gotten hard all over again. As it was, the burn was perfect, and by the time John came, Rodney was sure he could feel each individual letter on his ass.

In the middle of the night, Rodney woke up because John was shoving him around, and for a moment Rodney worried that he'd been trying to take the bed over in his sleep again. But no, John was reaching across him, and then, well, it was a good thing Rodney wasn't ticklish because John was writing on his fucking stomach. Although he thought he was doing a good job of pretending to be asleep, he almost dropped the act to ask if John remembered that they had a mission in the morning. But of course John remembered--he wasn't likely to forget that kind of thing--so Rodney just mumbled some nonsense and rolled over when John was done.


The next morning Rodney stared at his stomach and couldn't help smiling. He wondered which of them had figured it out first; for all he knew, John had felt that way about him long before writing it on him. Or maybe it was the act of writing on Rodney's body like it was his that made him feel that way. Whatever it was, it was mutual, and Rodney had to work to keep up the "writing? What writing?" act.

He remained acutely aware of it, however, and it was only when they reached P30-X98 that he realized John might have more than one reason for choosing today to write that particular word. Rodney had been the one to set up a solar panel system for the locals, and one of them, a young engineer named Delos, seemed to have a thing for Rodney that went beyond gratitude. It was flattering, and while Rodney had made it clear he wasn't going to sleep with the kid, Delos was a hot blond. Rodney had had no trouble flirting with him in the past.

Today, though...with that word written on his stomach, there was no way he was going to flirt with anyone. He wasn't rude to Delos, he just kept their conversations centered on technical matters. Delos looked confused and even a little hurt until John wandered over to talk to Rodney. Near as Rodney could tell, John didn't do anything or say anything weird, but Delos relaxed a little. As long as there wasn't any weirdness, Rodney really didn't care. He had important things to do.

That night, however, he made sure there was a pillow on the floor by the bed, and he went to his knees before John even told him to. His heart was pounding; he'd never really done this kind of thing, something this overt and formal, but it felt like the right thing to do. John looked at him for a moment and then smiled. For a moment, Rodney was sure he was going to say something about their...thing, but he just bent down, grabbed Rodney's chin and kissed him hard.

Maybe, Rodney thought as John bit at his lower lip. Just maybe, talking is overrated.

Rodney left the Sharpie on John's nightstand that night.

John didn't write on him for a few days, leaving Rodney to wonder if John had gotten what he wanted from the whole project or if John was just a big teasing bastard. It turned out to be the latter; in fact, not only was John a big teasing bastard, he was a creative one as well. COCKSUCKER was easy, and while Rodney's knees hurt a little by the end of the day, John's smug happiness was totally worth it. BUKKAKE made him a little nervous--he wasn't the least bit interested in anyone else-- but then he remembered John's jealousy and relaxed. He was right, and yeah, John coming all over him, all over the word written on his chest, was really fucking hot.

One night several weeks later, John wrote on his ass again, and for the first time, Rodney scowled as he looked at the word.


He hadn't minded COCK RING or GREEN PLUG; in fact, he'd enjoyed the hell out of both of those and so had John. This one, though...they didn't have a paddle, and John knew it. What the hell did he expect Rodney to do?

They had plastic and a machine shop--Rodney could probably make a paddle, but hiding all evidence that he'd done it wouldn't be easy. Yes, he could, but if he screwed it up...well, the last thing he wanted to get caught making was a paddle.

He sighed. It was inevitable, really. Things had been going so well with this writing thing that they were due for a bump in the road. He was going to have to talk to John about this....

Wait a minute!

That night, he actually heard a faint snort of laughter from John as he came in and found Rodney bent over his desk, the ping pong paddle he'd stolen from the rec room resting on the small of his back. "Nice," John said as he picked it up.

It had been a while since Rodney had been seriously spanked, and it hurt a lot, even though John was being careful and not hitting him too hard. "You have an amazing ass," John said after several intense moments. He smacked Rodney again. "I'd leave you bruised and welted if I could."

"Ow!" Rodney yelped. "I wish...fuck! Wish you could."

The next smack was really hard, as if John was angry. If he was, Rodney knew it had nothing to do with Rodney and everything to do with the situation. The next smack was a little more gentle and then he heard the paddle hit the floor. There was another weird thump that Rodney couldn't figure out until he felt John's hands spreading his cheeks and John's tongue....

"Oh fuck...John!" Rodney tried to hold still, afraid that John would stop if Rodney squirmed even a little. No top had ever rimmed him in the middle of a scene, but John wasn't exactly your average top. He was also really fucking good at it, and before long, Rodney had forgotten all about being still and was squirming like crazy.

"Come from this," John said as he took a small break. "Or you don't come at all."

He started up again and Rodney groaned. "Can't...please, John...."

John didn't stop; he just kept licking and biting and sucking until Rodney couldn't even get words out. Just when he was sure John was about to give up--his jaw had to be killing him--John dug his fingers into Rodney's sore ass. The little jolt of pain was enough for Rodney; he came hard, not even caring about the mess he was making on his desk.

When John pushed into him with nothing more than the lube on the condom and his own spit, Rodney just spread his legs as much as he could and took it. Yeah, he'd be sore in the morning, but he'd worked out with Ronon earlier so people wouldn't be surprised if he was moving a bit carefully. Now that he thought it, he realized that John had timed this whole thing carefully.

Best top ever, Rodney thought as John came with a sharp thrust and a long groan.

John got a little rougher with him after that scene, although he was careful not to hurt Rodney too much. He also continued to time it according to Rodney's workouts, and Rodney wasn't surprised when he started looking forward to working out.

One day, a few weeks after John had paddled him, he'd worked out, but there wasn't going to be any rough sex later on. In fact, if Rodney wasn't brilliant in the next ten minutes, there wouldn't be any rough sex--or any sex-- for Rodney ever again. He was surprised at how steady his hands were as he tried to disable the anti-theft device that had him, Radek and Simpson trapped in an Ancient lab. He was terrified--afraid of dying, afraid of losing John, afraid of John losing him--and angry, because goddamnit, there were things he needed to say to John.

"This one," he said, his fingers resting on a crystal. He took a deep breath and then pulled it out carefully. There was sparking and a quick rush of flame near his arm and for a moment Rodney was sure he'd been wrong. It was only when he realized the horrible siren had fallen silent that Rodney knew he'd pulled the right crystal. The door opened and John rushed in. Just for a second Rodney saw the look stunned relief on his face and then Rodney groaned as the pain in his arm registered.

It turned out that he wasn't as badly burned as he'd thought. Keller gave him a shot of something wonderful, cleaned his arm up, gave him a list of things he could and couldn't do and told him he could go. John got him to his room and then, when Rodney just stood there swaying a little, undressed him and got him into the shower. It felt good to be taken care of like this, particularly when the wonderful drugs started really wearing off.

"Food," John said firmly as he steered Rodney out of the shower. There were a couple of sandwiches waiting, and Rodney smiled a little; John had probably hit the kitchens up while Keller was taking care of Rodney's arm.

Best boyfriend ever, Rodney thought. He blinked a couple of times, trying to stay awake long enough to eat, but it was a losing battle. He needed sleep more than he needed food, and finally John took the sandwich out of his hand. Rodney was hardly awake when John walked him over to the bed, and he fell asleep almost immediately with John spooned behind him.

LOVE YOU he read when he stumbled into the bathroom early in the morning to take a pain pill.

"Yeah," he said quietly to the mirror. "I'd kind of figured that out."

John was sound asleep, lying on his back, when Rodney came back to bed. Moving carefully, Rodney took a Sharpie off his desk and sat down on the bed looking down at John. He was afraid he'd wake John, but if he did, John did a good job of pretending to be still asleep as Rodney wrote on his shoulder.


He thought about it for the moment and then added: