This story is rated NC-17 (adults only). It includes explicit male/male sex. If this is what you came for, scroll down. If it isn't, hit the Back button.
John slams out of sleep between one breath and the next, taut as a man who's heard a ghost. Heart pounding, muscles tensing, every sense straining in the darkness, all cataloging the movements of someone else in the darkened room.
Years of training assure that he doesn't waste a second in sleepy confusion. He goes instantly from sleep to alertness, focusing his whole attention on the intruder, who --
-- is muttering, "Sorry, sorry," and lifting the blanket, and burrowing back in.
"Rodney," John says, and he relaxes all at once.
It's a little chilly out there. John presses close, enjoying the feeling of Rodney's skin temperature coming into synch with his, and Rodney's mouth turns to his instinctively, cool with water but warming up fast.
John's warming up, too, and he presses his whole body against Rodney. They're both still naked, and he can feel movement against his thigh as Rodney gets hard, catching up.
"Nice acceleration you've got there," Rodney says, rubbing lazily against him. "Sleep to sex in under ten seconds. Maybe I'm not sorry I woke you after all."
"I could demand reparations," John says hopefully.
Rodney makes a mocking noise, but he's sliding down, like he knows what reparations John would have asked for. "Seriously," he says, and opens his mouth hotly over the place where John's cock meets his balls, "you are the lightest sleeper I've ever met," and he runs his tongue-tip delicately upward along a meandering path that ends just short of where it really gets good. Rodney's always fast and greedy the first time, but if there's a second time, he likes to take the scenic route. "Did your other lovers complain?"
"Never spent the night," John gasps.
Rodney raises his head, but his hand is there, petting John's cock with his fingertips, so tenderly. "What, never?"
"Nuh-uh," John says, and Rodney lowers his head again and takes the crown of John's cock in his mouth, a loose, lush, soft-tongued suck, and all the air goes out of John's lungs at once. "Good. Good. Oh, god. Just always seemed, oh, seemed like a bad idea."
Rodney apparently has no further questions. He sucks slow and soft and incredibly wet, like he could do this for hours. Like John doesn't even have to reach for it, just give in to it, let it shiver through him and spill over until he comes with a sigh that's almost Rodney's name.
Rodney comes back up and kisses him with his mouth still wet. They kiss for a long time, and then Rodney braces up on an elbow and runs his thumb over John's eyebrow. "You just, you stay over," he says. "You've always stayed over, and I'm sorry if I was supposed to notice it was a big deal."
It wasn't a big deal. That's the big deal. He was scared, and then he wasn't, and now here he is. He doesn't want to waste time talking about it.
"Fuck me," he demands instead. "You're going to fuck me, right? Rodney?"
"Yeah," Rodney says, and he grins a manic grin. "Sure. Why not. Since you're here."
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April 3, 2006