sga_saturday | Fic: We Can Name It Later

altyronsmaker.livejournal.com posting in

Title: We Can Name It Later
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Don't own them, just playing.
Prompt: name
WC: 514
Notes: Unbeta'd, just off the cuff. I had this vision of naked John saying one of my favorite lines. If you spot anything egregious, just let me know, I'll fix it.

"Yeah...fuck... god... that's... umf," John's face slides over the rough sheets as he collapses beneath Rodney, boneless and so totally satisfied he doesn't even care that Rodney drives into him a few more times, then grunts out his own climax and crashes, smashing John deeper into the mattress with his weight.

"Oh, my god," Rodney says, though it's muffled because Rodney's mouth is crushed against John's back, and John can only go on what he knows of Rodney to be sure that's anything close to what he said. Rodney turns his head and lays his cheek against John's back. "That was..."

John chuckles. "I know."

"What was that thing you did? with your hips? And, oh, man, you were right about the leverage thing."

John tries to inhale but can't with Rodney's heft still pushing him into the mattress. He settles for a few more shallow breaths, because he actually kind of like having Rodney so close. He feels surrounded and grounded and, if he were able to turn his head, he's sure he'd be able to keep breathing Rodney in. "You should listen to me more often, then, since I have such good ideas."

"What? I listen." Rodney grouses, but it's half-hearted at best, judging by the punctuation of the short, sucking kiss he lays on John's shoulder.

"Mmm," John murmurs. He's still too content to move, but he knows Rodney's just building up for a real conversation, so he lies still, savoring the few minutes in which Rodney is relatively quiet.

"I do," Rodney affirms with another kiss. "When you have something intelligent to say." He shifts a little, lifts his weight to slide off of John's back, and John tries to suppress a disappointed groan. Rodney will be impossible to live with if he susses out that John actually likes it when they cuddle like this. Rodney dashes his hopes when he says, "I heard that." Then he runs his fingers through John's hair, and, giving in to the temptation, trusting Rodney with this vulnerability, John pushes into the caress before turning to face Rodney.

"I like it when you're all over me," he whispers.

Rodney smiles, the knowing look that John knows can turn smug enters his eyes, but he doesn't say anything. It's like he knows the moment is fragile, and for once lets it be. His eyes roam over John's face. "I do, too, " he says, "but I like you nice and flush with oxygen, not blue from the lack of it because I weigh a ton and am crushing you."

They're quiet a moment, just the sound of their breathing heavy in the air. John's watching Rodney, watching for the moment when that big brain of his goes into gear. Rodney's brows turn down in a quick frown and he says to John, "Seriously, though. That thing you did, with the hips?"

John quirks an eyebrow, silent, waiting.

"I think I'm going to call it, 'the flyboy grind."

"Oh, jeez, Rodney," John moans, turning his face back into the mattress, exasperated. "We can name it later."