Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Category/Rated: Slash, NC-17
Year/Length: 2008/~ 1085 words
Disclaimer: Not mine!
Series: High School Heroes
Author's Notes: Well. *cough* Here it is? I can't read French, and I have no idea how they actually got like that (the first one) so I just made it up. And I'm picturing HSHs John and Rodney in a few years here
John is never, ever, going to get tired of the way Rodney looks with John's cock deep inside him. There's something beyond words about the way his eyes never open more than halfway, about the way color stains his chest, shoulders, and neck almost red, about the way he bites on his bottom lip, about the way it makes John's chest ache. John loves being inside Rodney, even more because there'd been a time when he thought he'd never get the chance.
Rodney is tight and hot around him, head thrown back on the sheets, his legs over John's shoulders, his ass in John's lap. This is nothing they haven't done before, and John pushes down and forward, bending Rodney in half to kiss his red, red mouth, catching and swallowing Rodney's moan.
It's so good, insanely good. John hisses out a breath, dragging his mouth to the side to mouth kisses across the sharp line of Rodney's jaw. He always worries about being careful with Rodney, but when they're like this, it's never an issue, because hurting Rodney is not something he's capable of.
For just a second, Rodney's hands are in his hair, long fingers tangling in it, as Rodney stretches his neck back and writhes beneath him. Rodney's voice is tight and rough, John can feel Rodney's legs trembling against his shoulders when he says, "Okay, okay, now you—"
Rodney cuts off with a long, sweet, moan, when John pulls off his mouth off Rodney's skin and pushes up with his legs. Rodney's arms jerk, falling down onto the mattress as John shifts them up, Rodney's body moving with his, connected as they are.
For a second John is balanced on the balls of his feet and the place where his body is joined to Rodney's, and then he's bracing his hands above Rodney's head, digging his fingers into the sheets. John has to squeeze his eyes shut, biting his bottom lip hard, his heart pounding like a drumbeat.
Rodney's voice is a gasp, "John, John, please."
John makes himself open his eyes. Below him Rodney has his face turned to the side, his mouth open and panting, his eyelashes dark against his flushed cheeks. Rodney's shoulders are on the bed, the muscles all across his chest jumping and jerking, his back arching off the bed, his legs over his head from the knees down. John groans just from the sight of it,
"John. Move, move please," there's a desperate edge to Rodney's voice, and John can see his arms moving, flailing aimlessly across the blankets. On John's shoulders, Rodney's legs tense, pushing at John as well as he can manage in their present position.
There is a moment where John is tempted to not move, to just stay like this for as long as he could manage. But Rodney would probably kill him later. Besides, John's dick is presently informing him that it wants nothing more than to fuck Rodney, right now, thank you very much.
John stretches up on his toes, bowing his back out, sliding just far enough out of Rodney's body to push back in. Rodney cries out, something wordless and rough. John can feel Rodney's whole body jerk, and repeats the movement just to feel it again, to hear that sound one more time.
Rodney's cock is hanging down, tight against his stomach, leaving wet smears across his skin. John thrusts again, Rodney so tight around him, his expression breaking already, gasping and moaning, breathing fast and shallow. John grunts, shifting his weight to one hand, rubbing his thumb over Rodney's blushing cheek, whining in the back of his throat when Rodney pushes into the touch.
John gasps out, "Fuck, look at you, Jesus Christ," not even sure what he's saying, barely hearing the words. He trails his fingers down Rodney's neck, feeling the wild pound of his pulse, the heat pouring off Rodney's skin like fire. His hips and legs are moving entirely on their own, his spine aching from the angles he's demanding of it.
John drags his knuckles up Rodney's chest, feeling the muscles under his skin bunch and jump. Rodney's stomach trembles when John's hand glides over it, and then he's wrapping his hand around Rodney's cock, heavy and hot.
Rodney's eyes snap open, only a thin edge of blue separating black from white. It's a shock, a surprise that John feels all down his spine, right in his cock. Rodney holds his gaze for a long moment, then tilts his head back, mouth falling open around soundless words, body shaking as he comes.
Rodney's come spills all over John's hand, pouring over his fingers, most of it landing on Rodney's chest, sliding towards his collarbone, a few drops splattering across his chin and cheeks. John whimpers, tucking his chin in close to his chest, white hot lights going off behind his eyes as he manages a handful more of the tight little thrusts before he's falling to pieces.
John comes hard, vision whiting out, everything disappearing and fading to unimportance. He feels himself sink back to his knees, hears the sound Rodney makes from the abrupt change of position, and then John's knees are giving up as well, his hips following, leaving him slumping forward over Rodney, his face pressed against Rodney's shoulder.
When John comes back to himself, it's to Rodney's voice, "—legs, John, my legs, c'mon."
John blinks dazedly, breathing in the smell of Rodney's skin. He finds himself staring at the side of Rodney's leg, and stutters over a curse, shifting just far enough off Rodney to slide his legs down. Rodney makes a soft, relieved sound, his limbs falling all akimbo across the sheets as he demands, "Now come back here."
John is more than happy to comply, easing himself down beside Rodney, pulling him close and tight. Rodney hums merrily, almost boneless, letting John pull him where he wants him, laughing softly to himself when John wipes at the come smeared across his skin.
Rodney finally bats John's hands away, butting his head up under John's chin, throwing a leg over John's thighs, an arm across John's chest, and making the sound that means he's decided he's done moving for the night. John buries his face against Rodney's curls, mumbling mostly to himself, "Where do you even come up with these things?"
"Hm?" Rodney sounds sleepy, content, happy. John loves it when he sounds like that. "Oh. The thing? I found a book. In your parent's library."
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