At Your Most Beautiful

~2200 words :: Stargate: Atlantis :: John/Rodney :: 1/29/10
“Look, I’m heading out in a few minutes here,” John says, “but I wanted to catch you before you left.” He lowers his voice, conscious of the flight attendants and other pilots in the lounge. “I want you to be ready and waiting for me when I get in.”

“Yes, yes, you already asked me to pick you–” Rodney inhales sharply, a little oh slipping out as he exhales. “Oh,” he says again, “you mean.”

“Yeah.” John bites his lip to keep from grinning. “I mean.”

John calls Rodney from New York that afternoon. It’s still morning on the west coast. Late enough that Rodney should be awake, but not so late that he’s already left the house.

Rodney picks up on the fourth ring, his hello? a little breathless, like he ran for the phone, and John says, “Hey, did I catch you at a bad time?”

“Of course you did.” Rodney huffs. “I was just getting out of the shower. Nearly slipped and broke my neck trying to get the phone before it switched over to voicemail. You always call right when I’m–”

“Look, I’m heading out in a few minutes here,” John says, “but I wanted to catch you before you left.” He lowers his voice, conscious of the flight attendants and other pilots in the lounge. “I want you to be ready and waiting for me when I get in.”

“Yes, yes, you already asked me to pick you–” Rodney inhales sharply, a little oh slipping out as he exhales. “Oh,” he says again, “you mean.”

“Yeah.” John bites his lip to keep from grinning. “I mean.”


“No time like the present,” John says lightly.

“I, uh. I have a class this afternoon. I don’t…”

“I know.”

“But I–”

“Rodney,” he says, suddenly serious.

That’s all it takes. He can hear Rodney breathing on the other end of the line, can picture him naked and hard, standing a little straighter, his eyes downcast as he says, “Yes, sir.”

The flight home feels longer than it ever has before, even though John actually brings them in five minutes ahead of schedule. And once they’ve touched down at LAX, there are still a dozen things to do before he’s finally free.

He sees Rodney before Rodney sees him, grins and waves when Rodney looks up from his book a moment later. After being away for four days, Rodney’s constant stream of complaints as they walk out to the parking structure is almost comforting. They reach the car as Rodney is segueing from the idiot drivers at the airport to the idiots who designed the airport in the first place. He pauses long enough for John to toss his bag in the back and get settled in the driver’s seat, and then starts up again without losing his place. It’s really rather impressive.

It’s rush hour still, but tonight John doesn’t mind the stop-and-start traffic. Rodney holds himself stiffly in the seat next to him. His hands splayed are out on his thighs, fingertips digging in. His mouth is the only part of him that’s moving, and it’s still going a mile a minute.

John tries to keep his eyes on the road and pretends he doesn’t hear the little gasps each time they hit a bump or come to a sudden stop.

It’s tempting to keep Rodney waiting, to insist on unpacking first, but then he kisses Rodney once they’re in the front door and all he wants to do is fuck him right then and there. He’s been planning this all day, though, and fucking in the hallway is definitely not part of the plan.

He leaves his bags in the living room, walks Rodney backwards without letting go. He whacks his elbow on the door jamb trying to maneuver them into the hall and it probably takes longer to get to the bedroom than it would if he just let go, but it’s worth it to feel Rodney hard against his thigh, to know Rodney’s been fighting this all afternoon.

He pushes Rodney down on the bed, crawls on top of him and braces his hands on either side of Rodney’s head. Rodney is still. He’s so good at being still when he has to. He can be quiet, too. Like now. His mouth is open slightly, his lips a little wet. His hands are fisted in the old blanket spread out beneath them, and he inhales sharply when John slides a hand under his shirt.

John can feel Rodney’s muscles flutter under his fingers and he bends down, kisses Rodney long and slow. He lets his hand drift lower, over the bulge in Rodney’s jeans. His teeth scrape over Rodney’s bottom lip. He says, “Tell me,” and straightens up, slides off the bed and toes out of his shoes. “I want to know every time you got hard today.”

Rodney’s eyes are fixed on the ceiling and he doesn’t move except to flex his fingers, adjust his grip on the blanket. The words pour out like a dam broke. “When I woke up. I was hard when I woke up, but I didn’t, you were gone, so I just pissed and showered and then you called and I got hard again on the phone and it wouldn’t go away, I tried to think of anything but, but it didn’t work.” John crouches down to pull off Rodney’s shoes and socks and Rodney just keeps talking. “All through breakfast I was aching, I couldn’t even taste my food, I was just. You’re lucky I didn’t have office hours this morning.”

“I know your schedule,” John says, grinning. He runs his hands up Rodney’s legs and undoes his belt. He gets Rodney’s jeans open, bends down to suck Rodney’s dick through his boxers, his spit just adding to the wet spot that’s obviously been there for a while. Rodney’s all clenched up under him, trying not to move, not to moan. John looks up, slips his hand between Rodney’s thighs and pushes up against the base of the plug. He says, “Go on,” and Rodney takes a couple of shaky breaths before continuing.

“I, I put the plug in after breakfast. Still hard. Hard all morning for you. And then I, I…” he trails off, his breaths coming fast and shallow as John rocks the plug back and forth. “I…” He lets out a little moan. “Please…”


Rodney bites his lip. “I, uh, I…I took. Before class I took a cold shower. I, that did the trick.”

“Were you hard during the lecture?” John gives the plug one last push, then starts tugging Rodney’s jeans and boxers off. “Were you hard in front of two hundred undergrads?”

“Yes,” Rodney moans.

“Fucking pervert.” John laughs and slaps him lightly on the thigh.

Rodney flushes. “Not the whole time,” he mutters. “But you can’t honestly expect an undergraduate lecture to provide enough distraction.”

“Of course not.” John grins. He straddles Rodney’s legs, pulling him up into a sitting position so he can get his shirt off. “Where would be the fun in that?”

Now Rodney is naked, hands clasped loosely behind his back as John kisses him. John licks into his mouth, one hand curling behind Rodney’s neck, and Rodney leans back ever so slightly into his touch.

“Good boy,” John murmurs as he pulls back. He stands up, tugging his shirt off over his head. “I want you on your back.”

He undoes his fly, pushes his jeans and shorts down over his hips, watching as Rodney arranges himself on the bed: legs spread wide, knees in the air, hands above his head. John kicks his jeans the rest of the way off and then pulls off his socks. He’s not hurrying, but he’s not slow about it, either.

Everything he needs it laid out neatly on the nightstand and he smirks when he sees Rodney’s chosen the thickest dildo they have. “You’re so predictable,” he says, laughing. “I don’t even know why we bother keeping the others. They’re just taking up space.”

Rodney doesn’t answer, of course. He knows better than that. He’s just watching, head turned towards John, but otherwise still in position. He knows better than to move, too.

John tosses the lube onto the bed, then straps on the harness and arranges the dildo, grinding the base against his dick. He lets his eyes fall shut, makes a little noise in the back of his throat, and rolls his hips. It’s not a show, this part, but he’s aware of Rodney’s eyes on him.

He quickly gets the condom on and is soon back on the bed, kneeling between Rodney’s spread legs. He places his hand on Rodney’s shin, bracing himself as he begins to work the plug out. It doesn’t take long; he’s done teasing now. Rodney’s hole is slick and open, but still John pauses to lube up the dildo before sliding his hands up the backs of Rodney’s thighs and pushing his knees up higher. He hooks Rodney’s right leg over his shoulder and then guides the blunt head of the dildo to Rodney’s asshole.

He pushes in, breath hitching as the base presses against his swollen dick. Rodney’s eyes are screwed shut, his mouth open, panting as John slowly pushes forward. Finally he’s hilted, hips flush against Rodney’s ass. He grinds against the base of the dildo, grip tightening on Rodney’s legs, and then he pulls out slightly and slams back into him.

Rodney’s eyes fly open and he lets out a strangled moan. “That’s it,” John murmurs. “Let me hear you.”

“Oh God,” Rodney gasps as John slams in again, and then just oh and oh and oh with barely a breath between. Pre-come drips onto Rodney’s belly, and his hands are clasped tightly around his wrists to keep from touching himself. It’s a sight John never tires of. Rodney looks nice tied up, too, but what John really wants is to see him obey, to make him earn John’s praise. Handcuffs make it too easy.

He fucks Rodney hard and fast, until the ohs turn into please and sir and half-words John can’t make out. John widens his stance, adjusting the angle slightly. His joints are starting to protest, but he doesn’t want to end it just yet.

“What do you want?” he says. He turns his head, bites the inside of Rodney’s thigh hard enough that Rodney’s whole body jerks like an electric shock ran through him. “Tell me.”

“I. I, oh…oh. I, this boy. This. Please.”

John laughs and sucks at the bite mark. “I can’t tell what you want.”

“Please…” Rodney takes a shaky breath. “Please, this boy needs…re, requests permission…”

“Permission for what?” John says, pausing when he’s fully hilted. Rodney’s thighs are trembling under his hands and lips, his ass clenched so tight around the dildo John can feel the drag when he pulls back.

“To come. To come, Master, please.”

John’s eyes fall shut and he bites his lip to keep from coming as he pounds into Rodney. “All right.”

But after what feels like hours (the clock says five minutes), Rodney still hasn’t come. His face is twisted and his pleases are now I’m sorrys, and John kisses his inner thigh and says, “Hey.” He lets go of Rodney’s left leg, leans forward and kisses him again, this time on the mouth. “Rodney, hey, don’t. It’s okay.”

He straightens up, wraps his hand around Rodney’s dick and jerks him off, and that seems to take no time at all. Rodney comes with a groan and a thank you, spilling over John’s hand, and John fucks him through it, long, slow strokes until Rodney catches his breath.

He lets Rodney’s other leg down slowly, pulls out and starts unhooking the harness while Rodney stretches his legs. Tossing the dildo and harness down beside them, he moves up to straddle Rodney’s waist. He plants his hands on each side of Rodney’s head, bends down and kisses his jaw, the corner of his mouth. “You okay?”

Rodney’s answer is a barely audible yeah.

“Good,” John says, and he can feel Rodney’s lips curl up in a lazy smile. “Not done yet.”

One more kiss, then he straightens up, scooting forward until he’s straddling Rodney’s chest. Rodney’s eyes are slightly unfocused and he looks relaxed like he only ever does when he’s down this deep.

John’s dick is throbbing, bruised and sore from the dildo. He pinches it between his thumb and forefinger, hips jerking as a jolt runs through him. He’s slick already, has been since before they got in the door. Stroking his dick with his thumb, he slides one finger down to rub over his piss hole.

“Gonna mark you.”

“Please,” Rodney says eagerly, his fingers twitching like he wants to touch. He won’t, though, and so John doesn’t mind him wanting to.

John’s using both hands now, one hand holding himself open and the other rubbing frantically at his dick, and then he stiffens, his dick pulsing under his fingers as piss splashes down on Rodney’s chest and face. Rodney’s eyes are half-closed and his mouth is open to catch what he can. He looks more ecstatic than he did when he was coming.

“Good boy,” John says when he’s done. He wipes his hands on the old blanket and sits down next to Rodney, brings Rodney’s arms down from over his head and rubs his shoulders as well as he can in this position. They both need a shower and John’s stomach is reminding him he hasn’t eaten since before takeoff, but for now he just runs a hand over Rodney’s hair and says good boy again.