First it was the arm draped across his shoulders. Then Rodney feels John slide his other arm in under his chest. He grunts in annoyance--it's not exactly comfortable, but John merely tightens his grip and Rodney ends up being pulled into a sort of hug, John's chest resting heavily against his back.
"Could you be any more in my space?" Rodney asks, his voice muffled by the pillow. He's already at the edge of the bed, with one knee hanging over the side.
John slings a leg over Rodney's.
Rodney sighs. "That wasn't intended to be a challenge."
"No?" Somehow John manages to nestle even closer, hips pressing warmly into Rodney's side.
Despite his amusement, Rodney can't resist asking, "Keeping alive the spirit of manifest destiny? How very American of you."
"I am very patriotic." John's voice is low and blurred by sleep, making the statement sound whole lot dirtier than it should.
Rodney wonders if he should be disturbed. Instead he shifts his arms, pulling them up until he's more comfortable, and then, despite the heavy John-blanket draped over him, he drifts off to sleep.
Only to waken to an odd sensation.
"John," he says, voice muffled by the pillow. "That's my armpit."
John noses in further. "Yeah."
"Your face is in my armpit."
Something soft and wet glides over his skin.
"You're licking my armpit." Dismayed, Rodney tries to pull away but John holds him in place. "That's disgusting."
John's laughter rumbles through his body, deep and rich. "This from the man who had his tongue up my ass."
A warm flush rises in Rodney's chest. "That was different."
He doesn't understand how it happens, but John makes him so crazy that he'll do that without even thinking. He'll throw caution into the wind and it's not even for John--that's a bonus, of course, to hear John moan and whimper and lose control--but the thing that really gets to Rodney is that he wants to do it, wants to touch John everywhere, wants to smell him and taste him in the deepest, darkest places and it's as if he can't get close enough.
As if he has to make up for the daytime, when they have to keep apart. When they have to pretend that they're just members of the same team; friends and only friends, nothing more.
Rodney lifts his arm higher, and even though it tickles, he lets John lick.
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First it was the arm draped across his shoulders. Then Rodney feels John slide his other arm in under his chest. He grunts in annoyance--it's not exactly comfortable, but John merely tightens his grip and Rodney ends up being pulled into a sort of hug, John's chest resting heavily against his back.
"Could you be any more in my space?" Rodney asks, his voice muffled by the pillow. He's already at the edge of the bed, with one knee hanging over the side.
John slings a leg over Rodney's.
Rodney sighs. "That wasn't intended to be a challenge."
"No?" Somehow John manages to nestle even closer, hips pressing warmly into Rodney's side.
Despite his amusement, Rodney can't resist asking, "Keeping alive the spirit of manifest destiny? How very American of you."
"I am very patriotic." John's voice is low and blurred by sleep, making the statement sound whole lot dirtier than it should.
Rodney wonders if he should be disturbed. Instead he shifts his arms, pulling them up until he's more comfortable, and then, despite the heavy John-blanket draped over him, he drifts off to sleep.
Only to waken to an odd sensation.
"John," he says, voice muffled by the pillow. "That's my armpit."
John noses in further. "Yeah."
"Your face is in my armpit."
Something soft and wet glides over his skin.
"You're licking my armpit." Dismayed, Rodney tries to pull away but John holds him in place. "That's disgusting."
John's laughter rumbles through his body, deep and rich. "This from the man who had his tongue up my ass."
A warm flush rises in Rodney's chest. "That was different."
He doesn't understand how it happens, but John makes him so crazy that he'll do that without even thinking. He'll throw caution into the wind and it's not even for John--that's a bonus, of course, to hear John moan and whimper and lose control--but the thing that really gets to Rodney is that he wants to do it, wants to touch John everywhere, wants to smell him and taste him in the deepest, darkest places and it's as if he can't get close enough.
As if he has to make up for the daytime, when they have to keep apart. When they have to pretend that they're just members of the same team; friends and only friends, nothing more.
Rodney lifts his arm higher, and even though it tickles, he lets John lick.