John/Rodney doodle. R rated? 448 words. Originally posted September 19, 2007.
Softest skin against John’s fingers, hands, tongue - smooth and warm. Wet and hot when he’s done with it. Sweet moaning and shifting body beneath his hands, that luscious ass pressed against his hips pushing up - grinding down.
*
But there will be no release to be found, not in the sweaty sheets Rodney grinds against nor in the heat and wiry curls against his back.
Teasing, touching, playing. With his nipples, the stretch of his back, fingerprints on his hips and teethmarks on his shoulder. A deep whine escapes from his throat, the air a chill against his sweaty body, knees and thighs shaking as he’s handled into place
*
John never tires of looking at the bow of Rodney’s neck, his throat a long smooth line. Too smooth and unmarked for his taste, but they play by the rules. Collar is the limit, but it leaves the wide expanse of shoulders his map to make. Red is allowed. Blue is not.
Teeth from last night, smothering a shout with skin, John so deep inside he forgot. Forgot to not leave any traces behind. No noises, no teeth, nothing above the collar, except simple bruises. Bruises you can blame on sticks and stones and slippery boots. Not hands aching to show they’ve touched, owned you for a few stolen minutes.
*
Rodney knows what he feels now won’t show tomorrow, but he will go to the mirror and watch. Watch as they fade into white skin, skin flushed by heat, and sex and Johns stubble a pattern against his spine. A path where he whispered words, bit them into his body with teeth and lips, a language only Rodney will see in the mirror.
It fades so quickly. The marks. But not the words. The words are gathered close, like pebbles smoothened by the water, flushed onto the shore. Just the smallest pieces for him to see.
*
Every word he can’t say he writes into his skin, licks syllables into smooth grooves and stretched muscle. Rubs his chin against a strong arm and kisses its path when the words won’t leave his lips. When they gather so close behind his teeth all he can do is hide his face and hold the skin between his jaws. Wishing Rodney could absorb them with John never having to speak the out loud, never having to face them.
He thinks Rodney gets it, blue eyes speaking just as much as his mouth do but with a different set of words. So when John nuzzles his neck, nibbles on his ear and whispers his want - Rodney gets his need and responds with his body.
Nothing is hidden, the same way Rodney has all of John.
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