Summary: "Vacation," John had said, and Rodney had frowned at him as if he were speaking a foreign language.
Word count: 1567
Notes: Thank you to mmmchelle for looking this over for me.
Face tucked against Rodney's side, John lay half-awake, still pleasantly buzzed from the beer. It was late afternoon and the room was warm, but an ocean breeze billowed the curtains and danced over his naked skin. He could hear the tinkle of ice falling into a glass, low laughter, and then the noises faded, leaving only the sound of waves hitting the shore.
Rodney stirred beside him and then moved into a full-body stretch, arching his back before sinking back down on the bed with a blissful sigh. John squeezed Rodney's thigh, and then touched his lips to Rodney's pale skin, still blindingly white despite five days on the island.
Not that they spent a great deal of time on the beach. They had been too busy with the king-sized bed. And the complete lack of interruption.
Inching closer, John laid his head on Rodney's hip and shifted his gaze to Rodney's cock, nestled cozily against his balls. Very, very busy. Sliding his hand up the inside of Rodney's thigh, John contemplated the tight brown curls and quiescent cock. He could stare at Rodney's naked body for hours.
"Hey," Rodney murmured, reaching down to brush his fingertips over John's head.
"Are you hungry, maybe?" Rodney asked. The words were dragged out and lazy, in contrast to his normal rapid-fire chatter.
"Huh. Little bit."
"I could go for those things we had last night--those fried things?"
"Fritters. Conch fritters." John leaned in and kissed the head of Rodney's cock, where the skin was still smooth.
"Right, right." Rodney toyed absently with John's hair. "Those were good. And the shrimp with the coconut, I liked those, too."
John nuzzled Rodney's cock, then licked the wrinkled skin, tasting the salt and sweat and come. "Rodney, for someone who's into MREs, you're getting mighty adventurous in your dining."
"I am, aren't I?"
"Yes, you are."
"I figured since we're here, it wouldn't hurt to partake of the local cuisine." Rodney brought a leg up, foot flat on the bed, then let it fall open as John licked his scrotum. "I could go for another drink, too. The fruity one with the rum that I had last night."
John rubbed his nose in Rodney's pubic hair and snickered.
"And no, it is not a girly drink," Rodney insisted.
Rodney had a surprising penchant for sweet, frothy concoctions, and it amused the hell out of John. "Maybe if you ask nice you can get them to put a little pink umbrella in it," he said.
"No, no, no, I prefer the plastic swords. With the pineapple and the cherry."
"Yeah, okay, those are pretty good." Affectionately tipsy, Rodney had fed John the rum-soaked fruit, one piece at a time, sliding it past his lips and into his mouth with rapt attention. Right there in the bar, and no one blinked an eye. It was that kind of a place.
"Maybe we should call room service," Rodney suggested.
John closed his mouth over Rodney's cock.
"Oh," Rodney said. "Maybe not."
Encouraged by the slow movement of fingers in his hair, John ran his tongue over Rodney's cock. He didn't know if Rodney was able to get hard again so soon, but he didn't care. He liked the softness of it, the way it fit completely in his mouth. His lips reached the base and pressed against Rodney's body as if in a kiss.
"Have I mentioned that this trip was a really, really, really good idea?" Rodney's voice had slowed even further to a breathy drawl.
"Mmm hmm." As far as John was concerned, Rodney could keep on mentioning it. It took a ridiculous amount of convincing to pry Rodney out of the bowels of the SGC. "Vacation," John had said, and Rodney had frowned at him as if he were speaking a foreign language. Still, with enough insisting--and it was insisting, not whining, damn it--John had convinced Rodney that ten days in the sun wouldn't be an irreversible setback in his life.
And now he had Rodney's laser-like attention, focused entirely on him. Of course Rodney had brought his laptop, but John saw to it that it made only brief appearances. He would let Rodney check his email, wave his hands in disgust and fire off a reply or two before he would saunter over, completely naked, frou-frou drink in hand.
And once again Rodney would be all his.
As he was right now.
John sucked gently and Rodney's cock began to thicken. Sliding his tongue over and around, John could feel the blood rushing in. Rodney's hand curled around the back of his head. "John," he moaned, and the word was a caress sliding down John's skin and over his cock.
John pulled back, his lips easing up the length of the shaft, pulling and stretching before sucking back down. The cock surged in his mouth, pushing into his cheek. It grew even more, and then John could no longer fit it all in. Oddly disappointed, he pulled as much into his mouth as he could, tongue pressed to the underside, and slowly coaxed Rodney to full hardness, taking his time, because they had all afternoon to do this. No desperate sucking and fucking and scrambling back into their clothes. Not this time.
Rodney suddenly moved beneath him. "Can you just--" He shifted his weight, rolling onto his hip, facing John. "Oh god. Please, I need--"
Broken phrases, desperate words--John loved that he could do that to Rodney, each and every time it was an incredible turn-on. He propped himself up on an elbow and slid an arm between Rodney's legs. Rodney immediately lifted his leg and John cradled his balls. He played with them, cupping them in the palm of his hand while he moved his mouth over Rodney's cock. He knew how to work Rodney just right, knew just what would bring Rodney over the edge. Soon enough, Rodney began to pant, his balls drawing up tight. Then with a choked cry he came, cock jerking in John's mouth, come pouring down John's throat.
"Oh," Rodney breathed, and fell back flat onto the bed. "I didn't think I could do that again yet. You're really good."
"Yes, Rodney, I am," John said, climbing between Rodney's legs. "Good of you to notice."
Rodney grinned up at him. Hair ruffled, arms flung wide on the bed, chest glowing with a layer of sweat--his entire body radiated a smug contentment. Then he saw John's cock and his grin broadened. "I know just the place for that." He slung a leg up onto John's shoulder and wiggled his hips invitingly.
John located the lube. "I'm going to make sure you get the pink umbrella in your drink tonight," he said with a chuckle.
"Are you implying I'm less than manly?"
John slicked himself up, and in one smooth motion sank inside of Rodney's relaxed body. Rodney grabbed a pillow and tucked it under his ass, raising himself up so that John could slide in to the hilt, his body engulfing John squeezing him tight. "No," John gasped. "You're perfect. Just--perfect."
Rodney nodded in agreement, as if pleased John had finally noticed. With a hand behind each knee, he pulled his legs to his chest, exposing himself even further and John had no idea how he ever got so lucky as to have this, so beautifully open, sweet and hot around his cock, taking him in and letting him go. Rodney clenched his muscles in time with each thrust, making it even better. They were good together, so very good and John simply grabbed hold of Rodney's hips and went for it until the blood was rushing in his ears and all the sweetness surged up inside of him and he came with Rodney's eyes on him, watching in fascination.
When it was all over John slowly collapsed down, spasms of pleasure still surging through his body, but Rodney, Rodney was beneath him, gazing up at him with a startlingly soft expression. His hand slid up John's arm, pulling him down for a single kiss, tongue sliding slow and lazy over John's as if it were the only thing that they had left to do for the day. By time he finished with the kiss John was stretched out flat on top of Rodney and Rodney's arms were wrapped around him and John thought maybe they could stay like this for the rest of their lives, or at least until it was time to go back to Atlantis.
Another breeze, cooler this time, swept into the room, drying the sweat on his back.
"Fritters," Rodney finally said.
"Rum punch." Rodney rubbed his foot against John's ankle.
John raised his head. "Can't you drink beer like a real guy?"
"I'll let you have my cherry."
"Oh, well, in that case," John licked Rodney's throat. "Let's go."
Later, in the open-air bar, surrounded by plates of food, they sat with drinks in hand--and mango daiquiri was a manly drink, no matter what Rodney said-- watching the sun set over the water.
"This vacation was a good idea," Rodney said, twirling a tiny pink umbrella between his fingers.
"Really?" John asked. He slid his bare foot over and rested it on top of Rodney's. "Good. I think so, too."