Title: Truth Table
Summary: We're going to play a game, you and I.
Warnings: mild D/s
Notes: When I wrote Data Set, I thought "Hm. This might merit a companion piece." And then I started thinking, which is always a bad idea, and then this resulted.
It hadn't started as anything other than a 'normal' night. John had slipped into Rodney's quarters when no one was paying attention, and Rodney had come back from the lab shortly thereafter. There had been some normal bitching and bantering back and forth, some bitching--mostly on Rodney's part--and they'd settled down to watch a couple episodes of Doctor Who on Rodney's laptop.
Not until Rodney's hand began unfastening John's pants did John think that maybe Rodney had something else on his mind other than some TV and some sex, but Rodney was comfortably settled behind him and his other hand rested on John's thigh as he slowly unzipped John's pants. So John didn't say anything; he just leaned back against Rodney and let Rodney's fingers slip inside his pants and slowly, teasingly, stroke over John's hardening cock. Rodney nipped his earlobe, tongue licking delicately over the skin, and John shivered. "Turn it off," Rodney whispered in his ear; John closed the laptop with slightly-shaking hands and set it aside carefully.
"Good," Rodney breathed against his skin, and he drew John down with him, so they were lying on their sides on the bed, Rodney spooned up behind him, one arm cradling John's head and the other draped across John's stomach, hand still tucked inside John's pants.
Rodney kissed John's throat, nuzzling the skin, inhaling deeply like he was breathing in John's scent. The thought made John shiver and his cock harden more under Rodney's hand. As if he could tell what John was thinking, Rodney laughed low in his throat and squeezed gently. John's cock leapt to full hardness so fast it almost hurt.
"I want you to do something for me," Rodney murmured, running his fingers lightly over John's cock, sliding deeper down to fondle his balls. John groaned, trying not to thrust into Rodney's hand. "Will you do something for me, John?"
He managed to nod, pressing a kiss to the smooth skin of Rodney's inner forearm. "Yes," he said, barely more than a hoarse whisper.
"Good." Rodney kissed his jaw, the spot right behind his ear. "We're going to play a game, you and I," he said, licking his way back down, little cat-like swipes of his tongue.
"A game?" John blinked in pure surprise. Not that Rodney wasn't capable of having fun, when he wanted to, and God knew he was...amazing...in bed, but games? That was kind of un-Rodneyish.
Then again, Rodney was proving to be many things John would have thought he wasn't. So who knew, really?
"Mm-hmm. Reverse hangman, in a way." Rodney slid his palm up John's cock and over the head, rubbing just enough to make John gasp. "Here's how it works. Are you listening to me, John?"
"Um. God. Yes." John shook his head and tried to focus. "Hangman, only not. Right."
Rodney laughed again, that same low "i'm going to drive you mad and whistle while i do it" laugh. "Talk to me, John," he said, biting John's jaw lightly. "Every time you tell me a fantasy, an image, something you want, you'll lose a piece of clothing. When we're done with yours, we'll start on mine, and when we're both naked, I'll let you come however you want."
"Oh God," John whispered, closing his eyes and ducking his head into Rodney's arm. He couldn't--words were easy for him anywhere else, whether it was in the field, sparring with Rodney in the lab or in a meeting, talking to Elizabeth--anywhere else. Not here. Not with Rodney lying behind him, holding him, telling him what to do, playing his body like a Steinway, and God knew Rodney could play.
"Talk to me," Rodney repeated, softly but firmly, and he kissed John's temple and ran a fingernail up John's stomach and John gasped, shivering.
"I can't," he almost begged. "Rodney, I--"
"Tell me what you want, John," Rodney said. "Tell me."
John squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't even think, and Rodney wanted him to talk, and--"Your hands," John heard himself say. "It's--I look at you sometimes, and I look at your hands, and..." He stopped, swallowed. "I need your hands on me," he said thickly. "Everywhere, all over me. I need you to touch me."
"Why?" Rodney murmured, and his hands were sliding up under John's T-shirt now, palms flat against John's skin, warm and solid and John shuddered and arched into his touch.
"You make me feel..." John shook his head. "I don't know, I can't...it's like you burn me up and you're solid and..." He groaned. "I can't--Rodney, I can't--" He tried to pull away, but Rodney held him close.
"Shh," Rodney whispered. "It's just me, John. Just me. Trust me, John. Okay?"
As he spoke, he eased John's T-shirt off, tossing it aside somewhere. "I want to know what you want," Rodney said softly. "I want to know, because I can't give you what you need if you don't tell me. I'm a genius, John, but I'm not a mind reader." He grinned against John's shoulder; John could feel it on his skin. "All right?"
John took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Sometimes I think about finding one of the empty piers, when no one's there, and pushing you against the railing and kissing you until you can't breathe, when your hands are on my face and I don't know who's groaning," he said, grateful he didn't have to look at Rodney, fervently glad he could keep his eyes closed. He swallowed, licked his lips. "I'd slide to my knees for you, suck you off, with your hands in my hair, and I'd listen to you struggle to be quiet because we'd be right out in the open and even if we're a mile away, someone might come by. I'd swallow you down, taste you, and when I got up I'd kiss you and let you jerk me off and watch you lick your fingers." John licked his lips instinctively, remembering the last time Rodney had held him down and jerked him off and made him watch as he slowly, carefully, licked his hand clean.
"Good," Rodney murmured, and he shifted behind John as he pushed John's pants down, tugging them off; John felt Rodney's erection rub against him and shivered.
The pants followed the shirt and Rodney pulled John against him again, hands roaming over John's chest, down his legs, petting him and stroking him. John sighed a little, leaning into the touches.
"I wish we could find a couple minutes to ourselves on a mission sometimes," he admitted softly. "Duck into the woods--there are always woods, you know?--and get just a couple minutes to fuck. You'd have the lube in your pocket, probably--it'd be hard and fast and we'd both have to be quiet because of the headsets, and we'd clean up with tissues or something fast and then we'd go back like nothing ever happened, and we'd have to be really careful that no one ever found out."
He hoped Rodney would go for his briefs, but Rodney leaned down and pulled off John's socks--thank God it was both of them, and then he kissed John's hip and his arm and his shoulder and ran his fingers through John's hair. "Keep going," he said, skimming a hand down John's flank and back up over his hip.
John swallowed. "When you--that one night, when you put me on the bed and just...looked at me...I don't think I'd ever come that hard before. Just...you looked at me like I was some new fascinating piece of Ancient technology, something amazing. I'd never seen you so focused, except when you were working, and it was..." John licked his lips. "Almost too much, but..." He shivered, leaning back into Rodney's warmth. "By the time you touched me, I was ready to explode."
Rodney pulled away a little and peeled down John's briefs, carefully easing them off, throwing them after the rest of his clothes."More," Rodney said, running his nails up John's chest, scraping over a nipple. His voice was low and a little unsteady and as he twisted, his cock rubbed against John's ass. "Tell me."
Oh God, they had to get through Rodney's clothes now, and John had no idea if he was going to survive. "I..." He swallowed, trying to work up moisture in his mouth, hearing the hoarseness of it. "Sometimes I wish..." He shook his head, unable to say it. Something else. "When I--if I can't see you, it's so--I mean, not that I want you to blindfold me all the time, but sometimes it's just---it makes everything else so much more intense." Or easier, given that he still couldn't open his eyes.
Behind him, Rodney shifted and John heard the zipper and the rustle of fabric before the soft sound of Rodney's shirt landing on the floor. "What do you want, John?" Rodney asked simply. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to John's shoulderblade, nipping the skin. Rodney liked teeth, John thought fuzzily, which was okay by him.
"I want you to fuck me," John whispered. "God--I never--I mean, I'd been fucked before, but it never--it--" He took a deep, shuddering breath. "It feels like fire, like a shot of moonshine, and...God, I want it. Ever since the beginning."
Again, Rodney twisted away for a moment, and John heard fabric over skin and then Rodney's chest, warm and wonderfully bare skin was pressed up against his back, and Rodney's arms were around him, holding him and stroking him. "Keep going," Rodney said huskily.
He tried again, but couldn't get it out. Not yet. "Sometimes...I wonder sometimes how much of you I can take, if..." John swallowed. "If you could get your hand inside me."
Rodney hissed in a sharp, short breath, and John felt Rodney's fingers fumble as they unfastened his pants. The pants landed on the floor and God, he had two pieces left and..."Rodney," John managed, turning his head, pressing his forehead against Rodney's arm. "God, I--" He licked his lips and burrowed into Rodney's body and prayed he could say this. "I want you to tie me," he blurted. "I want--when you have me pinned or you make me stay still, or...it's like nothing else, but i don't know sometimes--having something--"
"You want to be able to fight it," Rodney said in his ear, his voice almost as ragged as John's own. "You want to feel it, so you can twist under it and squirm against it, don't you? Is that what you need, John? Is that what you've been holding back from me?"
"Oh God," John breathed. "God--Rodney--I can't tell you anymore, I've got nothing left, please--"
"Yes," Rodney managed, and somehow he got his briefs off and John had no idea if Rodney's socks were on or off but he didn't care, because Rodney was kissing him, hard, desperate, his hands all over John, pushing him back against the bed, jerking him off, one hand sliding back under his body, a finger pushing into him, dry and rough and John cried out into Rodney's mouth and came.
"Rodney," he said, almost a plea, and Rodney kissed him again and again and ground against him, hips rubbing against John's. He grabbed John's wrists and shoved them over his head, pinning him down, holding him, and John moaned and thrust up under him, something sparking in him he couldn't define.
Rodney was panting, twisting against John, and his mouth was hot and hungry. "John--oh, fuck, John, God--" Rodney groaned and his mouth crashed down and John swallowed Rodney's cry when he came.
After, they lay next to each other, and Rodney pulled John close and John rested his head on Rodney's shoulder and closed his eyes.
"I knew," Rodney said quietly, stroking John's back. "I knew."
"How?" John managed.
"It's all data, John. Your body's been screaming at me for two months now."
"So why didn't you--"
Rodney tilted John's chin up and kissed him. "I just did," he said in that particularly "are you completely idiotic or are you just brain dead?" tone of voice.
John sighed and let his head drop again. "I could really, really hate you, McKay," he said tiredly.
"You could." Rodney grinned. "But then you'd have to go have kinky sex with someone else, and frankly, John? I'm the only one in this city even remotely capable of giving you what you need."
"Oh, stuff it," John growled, and Rodney laughed and kissed him and John stole the pillow and whacked him over the head with it, only Rodney cheated and tickled John until he was convulsed on the bed in laughter.
"Still hate me?" Rodney asked, shoving the pillow back under his head.
"Yes." John settled against him again.
"My quarters tomorrow." Rodney pressed a kiss to John's hair. "I have some things I think you'll find interesting."
John wasn't sure whether it was good or bad that he couldn't get it up at the moment. Rodney was a bastard, no question, but he was also...well, hell. John sighed and closed his eyes and decided he wasn't going to think about it anymore tonight.
"Go to sleep, John," Rodney said in exasperation. "And you think I'm bad."
John rolled his eyes and settled down to sleep.