Grasping

"Seriously, I think she really liked me." Rodney grins over his shoulder. "Don't you think she liked me?"

"Oh right." John follows Rodney into his room without hesitation, because they've been off on a mission that lasted too many days and now he is on a mission of his own.

"She was flirting with me." Rodney shrugs his jacket off. "Definitely flirting."

The door slides shut and John sneaks up behind Rodney, slides his arms around Rodney's waist and holds him tight. "No, not definitely. I'm thinking you have a really vivid imagination." It's a rush having Rodney in his arms again--almost like hitting the surf after a long dry spell on land.

"Flirting. Flirt-ting." Rodney singsongs as he slips away from John's grasp.

John follows him so closely that their feet tangle. They both stumble a little, but John manages to wind up with Rodney trapped against the wall. "I don't think so," he insists, pushing Rodney's shirt up, exposing his long, broad back. He likes Rodney's back. He presses his chest against that back and slides his hands around, his fingers spread over the curve of Rodney's belly. Seeking more contact he leans in, soaking up Rodney's warmth, his presence, his very being.

"Hmmm," Rodney mumbles in his usual distracted way. "That feels really nice. It's been a long week, hasn't it?" He tries to turn around in John's embrace, but John doesn't let him. Instead he lifts Rodney's hands and places them flat against the wall. His own palms press against the back of Rodney's hands, holding him there.

"Stay like this," he tells Rodney.

"Like what? Why?" Rodney half-turns, his eyes wide and curious. His hands remain obediently on the wall.

"Because." John brushes his lips against the nape of Rodney's neck. "I want you to." He opens his mouth and sucks on Rodney's skin.

The distraction works, because Rodney actually stops talking for a moment.

Rodney tastes of the earth and John can smell the fields of wheat on him, fields where he walked in the sunshine with that alien woman who looked at him appraisingly while he talked, hands waving wildly in the air. No, she wasn't flirting, she was contemplating. She might have even been planning.

"John," Rodney finally says, and his voice is a plea.

John places his hand over Rodney's erection. It's stiff, poking out eagerly beneath layers of clothing. "Yes, Rodney?"

"Why don't we--" Rodney tries to move again, presumably toward the bed.

"Why don't we stay right here," John interrupts. He rubs Rodney's cock while pushing his own erection against Rodney's ass.

Rodney makes a small noise in his throat and closes his hand over John's, even though he's not supposed to move them--they're supposed to stay up against the wall.

"Rodney," John says, his eyes gazing upward. There are conduits running horizontally along the wall, well above their heads. A series of eight narrow pipes that John's been aware of them for quite some time. "I have an idea."

"Uh?" Rodney pushes his cock against John's hand.

John leans forward, and with his free hand, toys with one of Rodney's nipples. He whispers in Rodney's ear, "I'll bet if I tied your hands to one of those pipes there, we could have a lot of fun."

"If you--what? You want to tie my hands? Like, as in bondage? Really?" Rodney sounds surprised, even intrigued.

"Yes, that's what I'd like to do." John had thought about it for a long time, restraining Rodney, keeping his big, nimble hands from moving, from touching him and distracting him, from making him lose his god damn mind. "If you want to."

"It's kind of kinky, isn't it?" Rodney's cock twitches under John's hand.

"That's the general idea." John noses the soft hair at the back of Rodney's neck. There's still wheat chaff in his hair, from their tour of the processing area.

"Then what are you going to do?"

"Oh, let's see--anything I feel like, pretty much," John says. "It will probably involve sex."

Rodney leans back, head tilting onto John's shoulder, until they are cheek to cheek. John can see one bright blue eye up close, and Rodney's cheek betrays the curve of a smile. A pleased smile. "Yes, okay," Rodney says.

John's mouth goes dry and his heart pounds against his chest. "Good," he says lazily, as if it wasn't a bit deal. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a length of rope like a magician pulling rabbit out of a hat while Rodney watches, his brows rising questioningly. John flashes him a half-smile. "Come on, turn around and face me,"

Rodney turns, and without hesitation, holds his hands out.

A simple gesture, yet the certainty of it touches John somewhere deep inside. He winds the rope around Rodney's wrists, pulling his hands together, palms and fingers curled inward and it's like capturing lightning. It already looks good, so good already that John's cock strains against his pants at the sight.

Rodney's eyes stay on his face, and when John glances up, he receives a deep, hungry kiss. Rodney's mouth still tastes of the ale they were given by their new trading partners. It was a rich, bitter brew, and she had toasted them all, but her dark eyes had remained on Rodney as she spoke.

Contemplating.

John yanks the knot tight. Even with his hands bound, Rodney's fingers move, reaching for John, twisting in his shirt, pulling him closer. His mouth finds John's again, sucking on his lower lip, licking and nibbling, and as usual, John is ready to forget everything he's doing.

"Wait, no," John says, breaking off the kiss and backing away. Disappointment flashes in Rodney's eyes. Taking his captured hands, John tells him, "Come on, Rodney, you're going to like this, I promise."

"And what exactly are you going to do that I'm going to like so much?" Rodney asks again, excited again.

"First, tie you like this," John says. He lifts Rodney's hands and turns him around to face the wall. He loops one end of the rope around a pipe, once, twice, then ties it to the other tail end. He has to press the entire length of his body against Rodney's to reach it.

"Well, that much I gathered already." Rodney is still fidgeting, moving his fingers, playing with the ends of the rope. "Will that hold? Are the pipes strong enough?"

"Yes, I already checked it out, Rodney."

"You've been thinking about this, haven't you?"

"Gosh, what makes you say that?" John kisses Rodney's hair before adjusting the length of the rope, leaving enough slack so that Rodney can support his weight by resting his forearms against the wall. One last tug to tighten the knot, and then he steps away. "Go ahead, give it a pull."

Rodney pulls down on the rope, puts his weight into it, and the knot holds. He stares at his bound wrists, and says, "This is all rather interesting."

John hesitates. "By 'interesting' you mean--"

"I mean good," Rodney adds quickly. "As in, can we have sex now, please."

"That was the general idea."

Rodney looks amazing, but he's still fully dressed, and that's not right. John pushes Rodney's shirt up and fumbles with Rodney's pants, pushing them along with his underwear past his hips, and that, oh yes, that's better, nice and exposed. He wraps himself around Rodney's body. Rodney moans and shoves back against him, but there's nothing else he can do. He can't reach around and touch. His hands can't do a single thing.

It's exciting in a way that may not be very nice, but it's hard to for John to think about that when his blood is racing through his veins and filling his cock, when he's tasting Rodney's body, licking his skin. Rodney feels so damn good, bare-assed and needy, all his.

And only his. Not Allisa's. That was her name, Allisa, and her eyes were always on Rodney, watching him. She talked of fertile lands and children. Her hair was long and brown, and she told Rodney he was the most intelligent man she had ever met.

"Ow, ow--John," Rodney gasps. "A little less with the teeth?"

"Sorry," John murmurs.

He licks the reddened skin on the side of Rodney's neck. Rodney's shirt is in the way, so he unzips it and pushes it over Rodney's head, leaving it to drape from Rodney's elbows. Much better--now he has all of Rodney's shoulders to kiss and taste. He grabs Rodney's naked ass, spreading the cheeks and pushing his cock between them even though he's still fully dressed because he likes the way it feels.

So does Rodney, apparently. He braces his arms against the wall and pushes back, ass first, spreading his legs as much as he can with his pants down around his ankles.

"Okay, yes, this is working for me," he announces breathlessly. It's his "Rodney is excited by a new discovery" voice, and the sound of it makes John smug.

"I thought it might." He's the one who knows how to turn Rodney on, how to make Rodney crazy and breathless and happy.

"Know what would work even better? This exact same thing, only with you naked."

John presses his cheek against Rodney's neck. "Really?"

"Really. You'd be amazed at how many things are better when naked. And this--I think this is definitely one of them." Rodney's voice has taken on a cajoling tone now. "Don't you?"

John runs his fingers up Rodney's side, scratching lightly with his fingernails. "You're pretty much naked," he says. Usually, by now Rodney's busy, focused hands would have removed all of John's clothing, would be doing things that leave John breathless and moaning helplessly. But not this time. Rodney's hands are trapped, balled up into fists against the ancient gray wall and John is doing whatever he damn well pleases.

"Um, yes, yes--but--" Rodney turns his head. "You see--my point is--"

John takes advantage of the move and brushes his lips over Rodney's ear. "Go on," he breathes.

Rodney shudders all over. "Uh--"

John seeks out Rodney's nipples, his tiny, peaked nipples, and tugs at them playfully. "You were saying?"

"Oh, god," Rodney gasps.

"No, no, that wasn't it." John rubs his cock into the cleft of Rodney's ass, and Rodney responds by pushing back so hard that John is sure the rough canvas is rubbing against tender skin but Rodney doesn't seem to notice or care.

"Do it, John--really. Now would be good."

"Soon," John says quietly, sliding his hand down Rodney's chest, past his stomach and finds Rodney's cock. It's hard and weighty, so irresistibly smooth, and when John glides his thumb over the moisture at the tip, Rodney's hips jerk and his breathing quickens.

"Please." The desperate whisper twists up John's insides.

"Please what?" John asks. He sucks Rodney's earlobe into his mouth and nibbles on it gently.

Rodney likes it so much that he can't answer right away. Finally he grinds out, "Please, I need--uh--"

Me, John wants to tell him. You need me. But instead he twists a nipple. The resulting moan vibrates against his chest and he wants to moan too. He wants to moan and kiss, and that's the one small glitch in his plan--Rodney's ass is available, sure, but not his mouth. John can use his hands, though. Touching his fingertips to Rodney's parted lips, he slips them into Rodney's mouth. Rodney sucks on them, hard teeth and soft, slick tongue.

"Rodney," John says, kissing Rodney's cheek, shoulders, neck--anything he could reach and still stay wrapped around him, still feel the warmth of Rodney's mouth on his fingers, Rodney's hot cock in his other hand, his own aching cock pressed against Rodney's ass. He needs, yes, he needs to be closer to Rodney, needs to be part of him, needs Rodney to moan his name.

The second he slides his fingers from Rodney's mouth, Rodney says. " Please, could you--the clothes?"

John thinks it's a damn good idea. Pulling his tee-shirt off over his head and unbuttoning his pants, he shoves them down, cock hanging heavy between his legs. He's burning like he's on fire, he needs it so badly. His pants get caught on his shoes, though, and he has to crouch down to unlace them, and there's Rodney's round, sweet ass, right there in front of him.

Forget his shoes. John drops to his knees, grabs Rodney's hips, and buries his face in that warm skin, smelling the heat and the want, and then he tastes it, sliding his tongue down. Rodney whimpers with surprise and delight. John pushes his tongue inside, then licks all around. It's wet and messy but those noises, god, he wants Rodney to keep on making those noises. He digs his fingers into Rodney's cheeks, spreading him open as he licks and sucks. When it's wet enough, he works his thumb inside, along with his tongue, and the noises get even wilder.

He needs to be inside of Rodney, needs to use his fingers, cock, tongue, everything. That's how insane Rodney makes him, even with Rodney's restrained, even when Rodney can't touch him. It's more than a little scary, because John still doesn't feel like he's on top of anything and he's just as crazy and wanting as when Rodney's hands are all over him.

He has to sit back and catch his breath, and there's just enough brainpower left to remember that he had stashed lube in his pants pocket along with the rope. With a final kiss to each cheek, he slides his thumb out and rests on his ass, retrieving a tube of petroleum jelly from his side pocket. Now he kicks off shoes, strips off the rest of his clothes and takes a deep breath before climbing to his feet.

"What--what are you doing? Why'd you stop?" Rodney is twisting around, frowning, trying to see what John doing, but when John slides a lubed finger inside, he gasps and thuds his forehead against the wall. "Okay, yes, that's better, do more of that, okay?" Rodney says quickly, his voice rising in pitch.

"I'm going to do a whole lot better than that, don't you worry," John assures him easily. "You're going to like it."

It's hot and narrow inside Rodney's body, and it gets hotter and narrower when John slides in a second finger. He feels Rodney tighten around him, trying to trap his fingers, trying to keep John inside, and John wonders whether Rodney feels the same way, whether Rodney wants John inside him, whether he wants John to crawl inside his skin.

"I'm ready," Rodney says. "Right now. I'm good. Just go on--John, really, I don't need a great deal of preparation--"

His voice breaks off when John presses down with his fingers, stroking along the inside of his body, yes, right there. He knows just where to touch to make Rodney's hips jerk and twitch.

Rodney groans, a low, incredible noise, face pressed into his upper arm, eyes squeezed shut. He looks beautiful. John rests his forehead on Rodney's shoulder and catches sight of his hand stuffed between Rodney's cheeks and that's beautiful too--what Rodney lets John do to him, that Rodney loves it so much that he whimpers and trembles and begs for more.

John obliges by sinking his fingers in as deep as they can go, then pulls out enough to add a third. He waits until Rodney relaxes again before adding another. He has to push to get it in, and his fingers are being crushed together. It's not the most comfortable thing in the world but it sounds like Rodney is enjoying it, a lot, being stretched wide open, muscles contracting and then yielding.

"Is that good?" John asks.

Rodney whimpers, then nods.

John pushes in a little more and strokes Rodney's side with his free hand. "Doesn't hurt, does it?"

"Oh god. No. It's good. Touch me," Rodney whispers. "I need--I have to come."

"Not yet, okay?" John says, sliding his hand out of Rodney's tight body. "A little while longer." He spreads some of the grease on his own cock, flexing his sore fingers. He steps close and pushes his cock in easily--there's no resistance at all, just heat and pressure and Rodney, open, willing to take him in. "Okay, okay," John murmurs into the shock of pleasure, so fucking good and he doesn't even know he's saying it, whispering against Rodney's shoulder. His hips start to move and he runs his hands over Rodney's body, his chest, ribs, then up his arms, until they cover Rodney's bound hands. Hard rope and soft skin, strong hands clenched into fists, but John pries them open with his thumbs and finds sweaty palms inside.

John owns the lightning now, it's all his, he's inside and all around. He can't help himself, he thrusts hard, it's all warm and tight around his cock and Rodney is talking again. He wants John to touch him; he's still pleading for John to get him off. The desperation in Rodney's voice does things to him, sends shivers of hard pleasure right to his cock, and he shouldn't like it that much but he does, so much that he won't touch Rodney's cock. He lets Rodney beg. He listens to the voice, needy and broken and begging, until the voice cracks and the words are interspersed with moans, with harsh exhalations whenever John pushes deep, deep inside. Rodney's hands are bound. He's helpless and he needs John to do it for him. He needs John. He needs--

--and John comes, with a burst of pleasure that's sharp and bright. He buries himself inside Rodney, letting go completely, until he's shaken and breathless and has to hold onto Rodney for support. He feels another little shiver of pleasure when Rodney whispers one final, broken "please."

When he is finally back inside his own body, he unclenches his hands from Rodney's, kisses the side of his neck, gathers himself up and with a huff of laughter, says, "Well, that was fun."

"Good--good for you, but just so you know, not all of us have achieved 'fun' yet," Rodney tells him, his voice high and tight.

John pulls out carefully. His dick is sensitive and twitchy. "Let's see." He peels himself off Rodney's body and steps back, still shaky. He hasn't caught his breath yet. "Can you turn around? There should be enough slack."

Rodney lifts his arms higher and yes, he can turn around. He's a wreck, face sweaty and flushed, eyes glazed over, cock so hard it's sticking straight out. "I know you're really enjoying this little power trip," Rodney says, "but please please please tell me you have some intention of getting me off within this century, because I'm going to be dead soon, dead man here--"

John interrupts the flow of words with a kiss. "I don't know, I think I like you like this," he says with a weak grin.

"I hate you." Rodney leans forward and kisses him again. "Please make me come."

"I like the way you say that." John sinks down to his knees. He's thrilled by the way Rodney moans out loud before even being touched. Rodney is wound tight. He wants one thing right now, one thing only, and John's going to give it to him. In a minute or two. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"*John*." Rodney is sounding truly frustrated. "Now."

John eyes Rodney 's cock, redder than he's ever seen it, and yes, he's enjoying the power trip, but he can't resist any longer. "Oh, well, if you insist." He licks the tip, swirling his tongue, teasing Rodney, listening to Rodney gasp, then moan. Quick and hard, John sucks the entire length into his mouth.

Rodney catches his breath and goes silent. He stays silent, almost eerily so, as John grips the base and sucks hard, sliding his lips over the smooth, tight skin. The shaft is hard against his tongue; the head feels swollen and large.

"Oh, god," Rodney finally says in a small voice. His hips thrust jerkily and then his body goes rigid, straining into John's mouth, holding perfectly still before coming in long, luxurious pulses, pushing deep into John's throat. John's so relaxed he doesn't gag. He just swallows and feels inordinately proud because it goes on and on. He's made Rodney come like gangbusters.

Afterward, Rodney is limp and giddy and demanding, insisting on being untied *right now*, wrapping his newly freed arms around John, practically curling up around him while pushing him toward the bed. But then John has to pull the blankets back because they're itchy and uncomfortable--Rodney can't lie on top of them; he has to be under them, and doesn't John know that yet? Finally they're stretched out together on the bed, and Rodney cuddles, kissing and nuzzling and petting as if John is the most amazing person he has ever encountered.

"That was really good. Really, really good," Rodney says. He holds John's face in his hands and kisses him thoroughly and enthusiastically, until John can hardly breathe. "I can't believe you tied me up. We should visit planets with flirty women more often."

"It has nothing to do with that," John insists, and pulls Rodney in for another kiss.

It has to do with hands, Rodney's wild hands, and the timing was sheer coincidence.

Rodney raises his head and smirks like the know-it-all that he is. "No, of course not." John pushes him back and stretches out over him, nipping at Rodney's throat while Rodney laughs, sounding relaxed and happy and John likes that sound, likes it very much.

Even better, Rodney doesn't smell like wheat fields or beer anymore. He smells like sex and sweat--John's sweat. Content, John smiles against Rodney's skin and holds him tight.

Notes: This fic was written for the multifandom "Cuff 'Em and Kink 'Em Challenge. My challenge items were bondage and organsm denial.