Intensity
by lamardeuse
For Kitestringer
Rating: R for mature themes
"Look, could you just maybe – "
"What?"
Rodney's gaze darted to a spot somewhere around John's bellybutton. "Um. Close your eyes?"
John stared up at him. Really, they'd been doing so well there for a few minutes, finally acknowledging what was between them and starting to get naked, and then Rodney had stopped getting naked and started talking. He might have known it was too good to last. "Why?" he asked, arching an eyebrow as he trailed a finger over the waistband of Rodney's unbuttoned pants. "You got something in there that's gonna surprise me?"
Rodney rolled his eyes, but he still didn't look at John. "I'm sorry I asked," he muttered, rising up onto his knees, and whoa, whoa, what the –
"Wait a minute!" John's hand shot out and wrapped around Rodney's wrist, holding him fast. "Look, I didn't mean to – " Christ, and he'd thought this was going to be easier than it was with a woman? "I want to look at you, okay?" he admitted, a little irritated that Rodney was making him give up his secrets this early in the game.
"I know," Rodney said. "That's the problem."
John frowned. He knew he was a little more fit than Rodney physically, but he never would have thought Rodney was self-conscious about his body.
As if reading John's thoughts, Rodney shook his head. "It's not that. Okay, yes, you’re much prettier than I am, I’ll grant you that, but – ”
“Rodney,” John sighed, running a hand through his hair and lying back on the mattress, “What. Is. It.”
Rodney flapped his free hand at him. “It’s just – well, it’s kind of intense when you – when you look at me like that. The, uh, the way you were doing, and oh, Christ, could you please just kill me now?”
John stared at him for a few moments, completely flabbergasted. And then he couldn’t help himself; he started laughing.
Rodney tried to tug his hand free, and John gulped air so he could speak. “No, no, listen, it’s just – what part of the last three years hasn’t been intense? We’ve been kicked around, held hostage, beaten up, tied up, shot, almost had the life sucked out of us on numerous occasions, and all that was pretty intense, as I seem to remember.”
Rodney relaxed in John’s grip; at least he was listening now. John sat up and settled himself on his knees facing Rodney, hand releasing Rodney’s wrist so that it could explore his shoulder, his bicep, his chest, his hip, then slip under the lax waistband of Rodney’s trousers. Rodney sucked in a breath.
“I don’t know about you, Rodney, but I’ve had enough of the bad kind of intense. I want this kind of intense for a change.” His other hand rose to slide around the back of Rodney’s neck; he took a moment to enjoy its reassuring solidity. “The good kind.”
By now, Rodney was staring at him in that intense way he had, and man, John couldn’t even count all the times that look had made him hard, and the thought they were going to finally do something about that together just ramped him up even more. “I, uh,” Rodney husked, tongue darting out to wet his lips, “I, uh, well, when you put it that way, I –”
Holding his gaze, John leaned forward until he was nearly crosseyed, parting his lips so that when their mouths brushed, John breathed right into him, the air puffing between them as they panted with the sheer need of one another, of this, of everything.
“Oh, Jesus, okay, okay,” Rodney said, arms wrapping around John and hauling him close, and that was the last thing he said that made sense for a very long time.
End
February 2006
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