"And you're not going to come until I tell you to," Rodney said, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. John was in his pyjamas already; Rodney was shucking off his uniform about as fast as his fingers could fly.

John blinked. "Uh--" He wasn't sure he liked that idea, or where exactly Rodney had gotten the notion that he was in charge around here. Okay, they'd agreed it was a date night, but since when did that mean Rodney showing up and stripping and telling him what to do?

"It'll be worth it," Rodney promised, and backed him against the wall to kiss him. John went with it; this, he liked. Rodney's naked body firm and solid, one thigh slipping between his. John ran his hands over Rodney's shoulders and back, cupping his ass with one hand and smiling when Rodney sighed into his mouth. Rodney rocked against him in tiny increments: he was hard already, and that made John want to rock back into him, push up, find friction.

And then Rodney slid to his knees and pulled John's flannel pyjama pants to mid-thigh. John tried to widen his stance, though there wasn't far he could go with his pyjamas in the way. Rodney didn't seem to care, though. He nuzzled at John's cock and John tipped his head back and closed his eyes, already breathing hard. God, Rodney was good at this. That gorgeous crooked mouth that John couldn't help staring at, moving now to nip at his balls and then lick a slow line up his dick.

And then Rodney sucked him down, and John tilted his hips to thrust into that tight, wet heat. Nnh -- so good -- right there, John was already close, he inhaled hard and held his breath because he was just about to--

"Ah-ah," Rodney chided, pulling away and leaning back on his heels. His mouth was wet and his eyes looked glassy and his own erection was jutting straight out, making John want to slide down the wall and grab it.

"What?" John said, because he'd honestly forgotten, but even as the word left his mouth he remembered Rodney's instruction. "Jesus, Rodney--"

Rodney bent to pull John's pyjamas all the way off and John stepped out of them, wanting more than anything to push his dick back into Rodney's mouth.

"I realize that taking orders has never been your strong suit," Rodney said. Damn it, he sounded amused. He was enjoying this.

"Yeah, especially when they're stupid," John snapped.

Rodney just grinned. "C'mere," he said, moving to the bed. "Hands and knees?"

Grudgingly, John went.

"I told you," Rodney said, pushing John's legs further apart. "You're going to like this." And then Rodney's wide hands were parting his cheeks and John felt the light swipe of Rodney's tongue.

"Fuck," John muttered, surprised, and let his head hang down. They didn't do this often.

"Mm," Rodney agreed, and went to work. Little probing licks, awakening nerve endings John would have previously sworn he did not have. And then his thumbs spread John even wider and his tongue became insistent and John bit back a whimper. That wasn't a sound he was supposed to make, but oh, oh, fuck. Unthinking John shifted his weight to his left arm so he could reach for his cock with his right, but Rodney pulled back and batted John's hand away.

"Rodney," John whined, because his whole body was thrumming and his cock ached and he needed to touch himself now.

"It'll be worth the wait," Rodney promised.

John clenched his hands in the bedcovers. "I'm...not sure I can hold out," he admitted.

"Try," Rodney said, and slid one spit-slick finger right into John's ass. The sudden assault on the nerve endings he'd maddeningly awakened made John clench and gasp and he felt his cock jerk in the empty air.

"That's it," Rodney soothed, twisting his finger and then withdrawing it only to fuck it back in again.

John made an embarrassing noise that gave away exactly how desperate he was. Rodney replaced his finger with one blunt thumb and twisted it just the same way, and John gulped a deep breath, trying to hold it together. Rodney's thumb didn't go deep enough, but it stretched him more open, and John wanted that so badly he didn't know if he could stand it.

And then Rodney bent to lick delicately around the edges of where his thumb was pressing inside, and John groaned, shuddering with the effort of not coming yet.

This time when Rodney spoke his voice was gratifyingly taut. John felt a perverse pleasure in knowing that Rodney was struggling a little, too. "You think you can suck me without getting off?"

John closed his eyes, though that didn't help at all with the onslaught of mental images. Rodney's thick cock in his mouth, the feel and the scent of him. "I...don't think so," John admitted, and a hot flush of longing ran through him: what did it say about him that he couldn't suck Rodney's dick without rubbing shamelessly against the bed?

"Yeah, all right," Rodney said, a bit unsteadily, and withdrew his thumb from John's ass.

John bit his lip and tried to keep his breathing steady as he heard Rodney pop the cap on the lube, squirt glassy liquid into his hand, slick his cock. And then, grabbing John's hip with one lube-sticky hand, Rodney pressed agonizingly slowly inside.

John groaned, pushing back eagerly, but Rodney wouldn't be swayed: he fucked John slow and deep with a little roll of his hips that made John want to sob with pleasure.

"Rodney," John managed, "I can't--"

"Can't hold on?" At least Rodney sounded almost as wrecked as John felt.

"Too close," John gritted out.

"Okay," Rodney agreed, and tilted up.

Some dim part of John's brain wondered whether that was permission to come. The rest of him didn't give a goddamn.

"We'll have to work on your stamina," Rodney said, after a while, his face pressed into John's back where they'd both collapsed in a heap.

"You have got to be kidding me," John muttered into the pillow.

"It's a well-known tantric technique," Rodney protested, pushing himself up with a groan.

"Since when are you an expert on tantra?" John rolled over and looked at Rodney skeptically.

Rodney shrugged. "Difficult though this may be for you to believe, there have been non-trivial periods of my life when I wasn't getting laid with any regularity at all."

"So you read up on weird yoga sex?"

"You liked it," Rodney said, his chin coming up in that way that meant he had an unbeatable argument.

"Yeah, okay," John admitted. His whole body was tingling, anyway: why argue?

"Told you," Rodney said, smugly.

"Yeah, yeah." John waved a hand limply, resigning himself to the fate of having whatever kinds of weird mindblowing sex Rodney could devise.

The End