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trinityofoneTitle: Learning Curve
Rating: NC-17
Paring: McKay/Sheppard
Category: PWP (Porn Without Ponies *eg*)
Length: ~2500 words
Summary: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
luthien: “The second time...”
Learning Curve
The first time they had sex, John noticed that Rodney was a little awkward, a little tentative, but he didn’t think much of it. A lot of people took a while to loosen up with a new partner. Besides, John had always pegged Rodney as being pretty close to straight; he hadn’t asked, but John was willing to bet that this was his first time with a man. John was secretly pleased: he had all kinds of wicked things to show him.
Anyway, even if Rodney was hesitant at first, his enthusiasm quickly built. He watched eagerly as John divested himself of clothes, then helped John help him make short work of his own shirt and pants. They kissed as John backed him toward the bed, and John was surprised and pleased anew at what a fabulous kisser Rodney was: passionate and intent, with a long, sweeping tongue that John couldn’t wait to experience in other places. But for now it was enough--was perfect to push Rodney down and straddle his broad chest, run fingers and then lips over his pert little nipples and watch him moan and arch off the bed. “John,” he said, “John,” transforming the name into a series of hot little pants, and John smiled, sliding down Rodney’s body, settling between legs that parted easily to accommodate him.
Rodney’s cock was straining against his chest. John touched it, running a finger up the vein, and had the pleasure of watching Rodney groan and bite his lip. John braced himself above Rodney’s body, sweeping in for another kiss, eager and messy and wet. He reached back down between them, lining them up, easing the way with precome and sweat. John stroked up and they didn’t quite glide: it was rougher, far better, and Rodney grabbed the back of his neck and jerked him down, kissing him forcefully as they rutted, belly and cock and cock and belly, Rodney’s hand moving down to John’s hip to hold him steady, his knee coming up and squeezing into John’s side as his head fell back and he came.
Slicker now, and warm; John came a moment later, resting his head against Rodney’s shoulder. He flopped over: sleepy, sated. “So,” he said, grinning dopily. “What did you think of that?”
“Mmm,” said Rodney. “Highly enjoyable. Much better than I envisioned my first time.”
John came awake very fast. “What?” he squeaked.
Rodney rolled over, frowning, looking vaguely annoyed at having to repeat himself. “I said, it was better than I envisioned my first time being.”
“Your first time...?”
“At sex,” Rodney explained.
“With a man?” John asked hopefully.
A bad sign: Rodney had switched to the voice he saved for idiots and small children (in other words, 99.9% of the population). “No,” he said slowly. “In general.”
“You’re a virgin?” John said, and wow, he did not know that he could hit such a high C.
Rodney rolled his eyes. “Of course not,” he said, and John started to breathe normally for half a second before he added, “We just had sex, remember?” He flicked his fingers outward, a silent poof. “That took care of that!”
“Er,” said John, feeling vaguely dizzy, and not in a good, post-coital way. “How? And, and also, how?”
Rodney shrugged. “Well, first I was in high school and yeah, just no. And then I had more important things to do like get all sorts of fancy degrees, and also, my one really long-term girlfriend had this weird thing about her hymen? And then for a while I was kind of doing this Sherlock Holmes thing: you know, ‘starve the body to feed the mind’; and then I was in Siberia, and then I was in Antarctica, and then I was here.” He shrugged again, his brow creasing only when he regarded John more closely. “Why--does it bother you?”
“No!” said John, too sharply and several seconds too late. “No, no: of course not!”
“Hm,” said Rodney, and then there was awkwardness.
Well, John couldn’t say he didn’t have any experience with that, post-sex. After a moment he got up, gestured toward the bathroom. “I’m just going to, y’know, take a shower,” he said, and sure enough: Rodney was clever, Rodney figured it out. John heard him sneaking away as he stood under the hot stream of water, banging his head lightly against the tile and cursing the fact that if he had only handled things better, he wouldn’t be showering alone.
*
The next day wasn’t any more or any less uncomfortable than John had anticipated; it was just plain-old, really, embarrassingly uncomfortable. John kept trying not to look at Rodney directly, which was difficult when they had to work together and there weren’t any well-timed explosions to distract everyone. When John eventually did have to cast a glance in Rodney’s direction, the other man was almost always glaring at him, which had somehow, in the last 24 hours, become oddly arousing, and had the effect of making the tips of John’s ears turn pink. But the worst was the one time John’s eyes flickered over to Rodney’s face and instead of a glare, he had seen an expression of such intense longing that-- He swallowed, turned away. This was his fault. He never should have altered their relationship in the first place.
Too late now. And in spite of his attempts to make a clean escape, Rodney caught up with him after their evening briefing, grabbing his arm and pulling him into an alcove. “Now this is funny,” he said. “‘Cause correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t the person who got deflowered supposed to be the one having the ginormous freak out?”
“I didn’t--” John started, then vastly decreased the volume. “I did not ‘deflower’ you!” he hissed. “There was no--” He made vague thread-the-needle motions. “--Of any kind!”
Rodney rolled his eyes. “Yes, thank you for bringing up that important distinction.” Then his lip twitched, his eyes going darker, nowhere near so sarcastic. “There could be, you know,” he said. “Penetration.”
John gulped. Forced himself to say, “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
Rodney’s eyebrow quirked. “Oh, do you not do that? I’ve heard that some guys don’t do that.” He gave John a curious once-over. “What, is it too gay for you? Really?”
“No!” said John. His ears were doing it again. “No. It’s just...”
Rodney was looking at him like he was clearly insane. And maybe John was: he was a guy who was turning down sex, after all. “Is this really about the virgin--excuse me, former virgin--thing?” Rodney asked. “Because,” he gave John’s arm a condescending pat, “as I realize that you’re having a hard time with this, allow me to illustrate. Barn door,” he said, gesturing to the wide, open space around them, then whirling his index fingers in, pointing emphatically at his own chest. “Horse.”
“Thank you,” John said. “I got that.”
“So then what’s the problem?” Rodney demanded.
John didn’t know. He really, really didn’t know. It should be hot--really hot--to be somebody’s first, but...fuck. At his age, it just felt like an abuse of power, like he was taking advantage.
“I just...I really need some time to think, Rodney,” John said. “I’m sorry. It’s--”
“--‘Not you, it’s me,’ yeah yeah,” Rodney said, waving a hand, dismissing him. “Well, thanks for the indoctrination!” he muttered, as John slipped by, sheepish. “Now that you’ve broken me in, I can go have sex with loads of other people!”
At his sides, John’s fingers curled inward, clenching into fists.
*
It was too hot in his room. Normally, John could adjust the temperature with a thought, but now he was wondering if he had as much control over things as he’d assumed, if his subconscious wasn’t really the one in charge, hiking up the thermostat to match his mental state. I need some time to think? God, thinking was the last thing he needed!
The door opened with a dramatic swoosh; maybe there was some merit to this theory of subconscious control, after all. Then Rodney swept inside, unzipping his jacket as he went. “So I’ve been doing some research,” he said.
“Oh, what--” kind, John started, at which point Rodney pulled a container of lube out of his pocket and tossed it on the bed.
“Urk?” said John.
“Research,” said Rodney. His shoes came off, thunk thunk. “Even on our closed network, you would not believe some of the things you can find out.” He grinned, worming his arms inside his shirt before yanking it off. “And the selection of pornography? Is excellent.”
John didn’t doubt it.
“So,” Rodney continued, shucking his pants. “I’ve formed some theories. Now I figure it’s time to experiment.”
John tried to think of something intelligent to say. Oddly, what came out was a squeaky, “And I’m your lab partner?”
“Yes, John,” Rodney said, with somewhat condescending gentleness. “You’re my lab partner.”
He climbed up onto the bed and straddled John’s hips. John stared at him: he was already half-hard, cock proud and confident, fingers skilfully removing the obstacle of buttons. A thought struck him: a flash of pure relief. “You’ve been having me on!”
Rodney tilted his head, jerked down John’s pants. “Why, Colonel,” he said. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Tongue darting out, wetting lips. “Take off your shirt.”
John complied, rather more eagerly. “Ha ha,” he said. “And you thought you had me fooled!”
“Sure,” said Rodney, slowly. “Whatever makes you happy.”
“Ha ha,” John repeated. He frowned. He was confused again.
Rodney’s thighs squeezed his chest, heavy and strong. As John watched, he lifted himself up, the muscles coiling. He uncapped the lube and liberally coated his fingers, bringing them up to his nose for a quick sniff. “Huh,” he said.
“Cute,” said John, unsure again. Rodney was such a terrible liar...
Rodney could tell him that Atlantis had been built by a band of happy, cookie-making elves and John would believe every word that came out of his mouth. Because those clever lips, that wide, wicked curve of them--they were parted in surprise, in pleasure, as Rodney touched himself, as he worked first one finger and then two into his own ass. John knew what those artful, intelligent fingers could do. He had seen it--could see it right now on Rodney’s face: blue eyes widening in surprise, then fluttering closed, framed by long lashes; the tiny hitches of breath, the curve of his neck... John wasn’t sure what was more erotic: watching Rodney’s digits disappear inside him, or watching Rodney, transformed by it.
Impossible, John thought, he isn’t-- But then he saw a flicker of pain cross Rodney’s face as he turned his wrist, pushing in with a third. “Easy, now,” he said, and Rodney couldn’t quite manage to sound annoyed as he answered, “Thank you, Colonel, I think I’ve got it.”
“I think you’re ready,” John said, “do you feel ready?”
“Yes,” Rodney said, “yes”; and his hand slipped out with a shudder and a little sigh. Eyes intent, he fumbled with the lube again, reaching for John’s cock. “You know,” John said, “it might be easier if we--”
“No,” Rodney said, anticipating him. “Like this. I wanna do it like--” He stroked John’s cock; it didn’t need much encouragement. “--Like this.”
He raised himself up again, thighs like pistons; “Oh, God,” John said. “Go slow.”
“Ye-eessss,” said Rodney, and John felt the tip of his cock press against his opening. He reached out with a steadying hand, but Rodney batted him away. “Let me, let me, I wanna--ahh--oooh.”
A little flinch, one that John felt with his entire body; he tried to feel concern, but his mind was taken up by a steady stream of hot hot tight so tight. “Yeah, yeah, there,” Rodney said--to himself, probably, but who cares: his shoulders were straightening, his head falling back. “Ooh, this is good. Is it good for you? I bet it is,” he continued, before John could add his own opinion on the matter, although Rodney did a good job summing up: “I bet it’s so--very--good.”
He was working his way down in centimeters and half-steps, holding back from gravity, doing it torturously slow. John shouldn’t be surprised that Rodney had that kind of control: he was a precision worker, when he had to be. John squeezed his thighs, trying to encourage him to move faster, and Rodney--retaliated against him, rewarded him, whatever-both-at-once: clenching the muscles in his ass, stretching his neck, thrilling at the reaction he provoked. John released a guttural exhalation of breath and Rodney twisted his hips, sneer Sid Vicious-good. “This is fun,” he said, like he was the first person to discover it. “Sex is fun.”
John made a noise that one of their very good linguists might have been able to recognize as something distantly related to English.
“I think I want you to touch me now,” Rodney said, grinding down again. “Yeah, that’s right.” Broad smile, tongue flicking out again. “Stroke my cock.”
It was fucking wanton, that’s what it was. John loved it. He pumped Rodney’s cock, using it as a distraction to sneak the other hand around and grab Rodney’s ass. He squeezed and Rodney bore down on him harder than ever, biting his lip as he came, spurting all over John’s hand and both of their chests. He shuddered around John, his control finally breaking, and John caught his arms as he fell, stroking up into him, once, twice, three more times, until the sharp pinch of Rodney’s teeth on his neck brought him his own release.
He was still shaking, but after a few minutes, he managed to roll Rodney off of him. He slid out and Rodney’s fingers tightened on his arm before releasing, relaxing. “Well,” Rodney said, sounding somewhat drunk, “no wonder people are so obsessed with that.”
John found his discarded t-shirt and quickly wiped off his chest, then more slowly cleaned Rodney’s. “You can drop the act now,” he said. “No way was that only your second time. Second time with a man, maybe, but...What?”
Rodney was laughing at him. “You know, you’re allowed to stop with the ridiculous flattery once the virgin is already despoiled.”
“You are such a liar!” said John, and sounding very unconvincing: “Nothing you say can possibly convince me otherwise!”
Rodney lay back against the pillow: a brave explorer pleased with himself and his discoveries. “It’s hardly my fault,” he said, “that I’m such a fast learner.”
*************
NOTES:
1. Okay, so basically this came about because while I find the idea of virgin!John extremely hotespecially if he is a priest, virgin!Rodney just makes me depressed. I decided to see if I could write it in a way that was funny and not depressing to my sensitive self; I hope that it met those criteria for you, too!
2. And yeah, I know: a fucking horse snuck in here. What is it with these equines, man? Sneaky bastards.
Rating: NC-17
Paring: McKay/Sheppard
Category: PWP (Porn Without Ponies *eg*)
Length: ~2500 words
Summary: For
luthien: “The second time...”Learning Curve
The first time they had sex, John noticed that Rodney was a little awkward, a little tentative, but he didn’t think much of it. A lot of people took a while to loosen up with a new partner. Besides, John had always pegged Rodney as being pretty close to straight; he hadn’t asked, but John was willing to bet that this was his first time with a man. John was secretly pleased: he had all kinds of wicked things to show him.
Anyway, even if Rodney was hesitant at first, his enthusiasm quickly built. He watched eagerly as John divested himself of clothes, then helped John help him make short work of his own shirt and pants. They kissed as John backed him toward the bed, and John was surprised and pleased anew at what a fabulous kisser Rodney was: passionate and intent, with a long, sweeping tongue that John couldn’t wait to experience in other places. But for now it was enough--was perfect to push Rodney down and straddle his broad chest, run fingers and then lips over his pert little nipples and watch him moan and arch off the bed. “John,” he said, “John,” transforming the name into a series of hot little pants, and John smiled, sliding down Rodney’s body, settling between legs that parted easily to accommodate him.
Rodney’s cock was straining against his chest. John touched it, running a finger up the vein, and had the pleasure of watching Rodney groan and bite his lip. John braced himself above Rodney’s body, sweeping in for another kiss, eager and messy and wet. He reached back down between them, lining them up, easing the way with precome and sweat. John stroked up and they didn’t quite glide: it was rougher, far better, and Rodney grabbed the back of his neck and jerked him down, kissing him forcefully as they rutted, belly and cock and cock and belly, Rodney’s hand moving down to John’s hip to hold him steady, his knee coming up and squeezing into John’s side as his head fell back and he came.
Slicker now, and warm; John came a moment later, resting his head against Rodney’s shoulder. He flopped over: sleepy, sated. “So,” he said, grinning dopily. “What did you think of that?”
“Mmm,” said Rodney. “Highly enjoyable. Much better than I envisioned my first time.”
John came awake very fast. “What?” he squeaked.
Rodney rolled over, frowning, looking vaguely annoyed at having to repeat himself. “I said, it was better than I envisioned my first time being.”
“Your first time...?”
“At sex,” Rodney explained.
“With a man?” John asked hopefully.
A bad sign: Rodney had switched to the voice he saved for idiots and small children (in other words, 99.9% of the population). “No,” he said slowly. “In general.”
“You’re a virgin?” John said, and wow, he did not know that he could hit such a high C.
Rodney rolled his eyes. “Of course not,” he said, and John started to breathe normally for half a second before he added, “We just had sex, remember?” He flicked his fingers outward, a silent poof. “That took care of that!”
“Er,” said John, feeling vaguely dizzy, and not in a good, post-coital way. “How? And, and also, how?”
Rodney shrugged. “Well, first I was in high school and yeah, just no. And then I had more important things to do like get all sorts of fancy degrees, and also, my one really long-term girlfriend had this weird thing about her hymen? And then for a while I was kind of doing this Sherlock Holmes thing: you know, ‘starve the body to feed the mind’; and then I was in Siberia, and then I was in Antarctica, and then I was here.” He shrugged again, his brow creasing only when he regarded John more closely. “Why--does it bother you?”
“No!” said John, too sharply and several seconds too late. “No, no: of course not!”
“Hm,” said Rodney, and then there was awkwardness.
Well, John couldn’t say he didn’t have any experience with that, post-sex. After a moment he got up, gestured toward the bathroom. “I’m just going to, y’know, take a shower,” he said, and sure enough: Rodney was clever, Rodney figured it out. John heard him sneaking away as he stood under the hot stream of water, banging his head lightly against the tile and cursing the fact that if he had only handled things better, he wouldn’t be showering alone.
*
The next day wasn’t any more or any less uncomfortable than John had anticipated; it was just plain-old, really, embarrassingly uncomfortable. John kept trying not to look at Rodney directly, which was difficult when they had to work together and there weren’t any well-timed explosions to distract everyone. When John eventually did have to cast a glance in Rodney’s direction, the other man was almost always glaring at him, which had somehow, in the last 24 hours, become oddly arousing, and had the effect of making the tips of John’s ears turn pink. But the worst was the one time John’s eyes flickered over to Rodney’s face and instead of a glare, he had seen an expression of such intense longing that-- He swallowed, turned away. This was his fault. He never should have altered their relationship in the first place.
Too late now. And in spite of his attempts to make a clean escape, Rodney caught up with him after their evening briefing, grabbing his arm and pulling him into an alcove. “Now this is funny,” he said. “‘Cause correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t the person who got deflowered supposed to be the one having the ginormous freak out?”
“I didn’t--” John started, then vastly decreased the volume. “I did not ‘deflower’ you!” he hissed. “There was no--” He made vague thread-the-needle motions. “--Of any kind!”
Rodney rolled his eyes. “Yes, thank you for bringing up that important distinction.” Then his lip twitched, his eyes going darker, nowhere near so sarcastic. “There could be, you know,” he said. “Penetration.”
John gulped. Forced himself to say, “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
Rodney’s eyebrow quirked. “Oh, do you not do that? I’ve heard that some guys don’t do that.” He gave John a curious once-over. “What, is it too gay for you? Really?”
“No!” said John. His ears were doing it again. “No. It’s just...”
Rodney was looking at him like he was clearly insane. And maybe John was: he was a guy who was turning down sex, after all. “Is this really about the virgin--excuse me, former virgin--thing?” Rodney asked. “Because,” he gave John’s arm a condescending pat, “as I realize that you’re having a hard time with this, allow me to illustrate. Barn door,” he said, gesturing to the wide, open space around them, then whirling his index fingers in, pointing emphatically at his own chest. “Horse.”
“Thank you,” John said. “I got that.”
“So then what’s the problem?” Rodney demanded.
John didn’t know. He really, really didn’t know. It should be hot--really hot--to be somebody’s first, but...fuck. At his age, it just felt like an abuse of power, like he was taking advantage.
“I just...I really need some time to think, Rodney,” John said. “I’m sorry. It’s--”
“--‘Not you, it’s me,’ yeah yeah,” Rodney said, waving a hand, dismissing him. “Well, thanks for the indoctrination!” he muttered, as John slipped by, sheepish. “Now that you’ve broken me in, I can go have sex with loads of other people!”
At his sides, John’s fingers curled inward, clenching into fists.
*
It was too hot in his room. Normally, John could adjust the temperature with a thought, but now he was wondering if he had as much control over things as he’d assumed, if his subconscious wasn’t really the one in charge, hiking up the thermostat to match his mental state. I need some time to think? God, thinking was the last thing he needed!
The door opened with a dramatic swoosh; maybe there was some merit to this theory of subconscious control, after all. Then Rodney swept inside, unzipping his jacket as he went. “So I’ve been doing some research,” he said.
“Oh, what--” kind, John started, at which point Rodney pulled a container of lube out of his pocket and tossed it on the bed.
“Urk?” said John.
“Research,” said Rodney. His shoes came off, thunk thunk. “Even on our closed network, you would not believe some of the things you can find out.” He grinned, worming his arms inside his shirt before yanking it off. “And the selection of pornography? Is excellent.”
John didn’t doubt it.
“So,” Rodney continued, shucking his pants. “I’ve formed some theories. Now I figure it’s time to experiment.”
John tried to think of something intelligent to say. Oddly, what came out was a squeaky, “And I’m your lab partner?”
“Yes, John,” Rodney said, with somewhat condescending gentleness. “You’re my lab partner.”
He climbed up onto the bed and straddled John’s hips. John stared at him: he was already half-hard, cock proud and confident, fingers skilfully removing the obstacle of buttons. A thought struck him: a flash of pure relief. “You’ve been having me on!”
Rodney tilted his head, jerked down John’s pants. “Why, Colonel,” he said. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Tongue darting out, wetting lips. “Take off your shirt.”
John complied, rather more eagerly. “Ha ha,” he said. “And you thought you had me fooled!”
“Sure,” said Rodney, slowly. “Whatever makes you happy.”
“Ha ha,” John repeated. He frowned. He was confused again.
Rodney’s thighs squeezed his chest, heavy and strong. As John watched, he lifted himself up, the muscles coiling. He uncapped the lube and liberally coated his fingers, bringing them up to his nose for a quick sniff. “Huh,” he said.
“Cute,” said John, unsure again. Rodney was such a terrible liar...
Rodney could tell him that Atlantis had been built by a band of happy, cookie-making elves and John would believe every word that came out of his mouth. Because those clever lips, that wide, wicked curve of them--they were parted in surprise, in pleasure, as Rodney touched himself, as he worked first one finger and then two into his own ass. John knew what those artful, intelligent fingers could do. He had seen it--could see it right now on Rodney’s face: blue eyes widening in surprise, then fluttering closed, framed by long lashes; the tiny hitches of breath, the curve of his neck... John wasn’t sure what was more erotic: watching Rodney’s digits disappear inside him, or watching Rodney, transformed by it.
Impossible, John thought, he isn’t-- But then he saw a flicker of pain cross Rodney’s face as he turned his wrist, pushing in with a third. “Easy, now,” he said, and Rodney couldn’t quite manage to sound annoyed as he answered, “Thank you, Colonel, I think I’ve got it.”
“I think you’re ready,” John said, “do you feel ready?”
“Yes,” Rodney said, “yes”; and his hand slipped out with a shudder and a little sigh. Eyes intent, he fumbled with the lube again, reaching for John’s cock. “You know,” John said, “it might be easier if we--”
“No,” Rodney said, anticipating him. “Like this. I wanna do it like--” He stroked John’s cock; it didn’t need much encouragement. “--Like this.”
He raised himself up again, thighs like pistons; “Oh, God,” John said. “Go slow.”
“Ye-eessss,” said Rodney, and John felt the tip of his cock press against his opening. He reached out with a steadying hand, but Rodney batted him away. “Let me, let me, I wanna--ahh--oooh.”
A little flinch, one that John felt with his entire body; he tried to feel concern, but his mind was taken up by a steady stream of hot hot tight so tight. “Yeah, yeah, there,” Rodney said--to himself, probably, but who cares: his shoulders were straightening, his head falling back. “Ooh, this is good. Is it good for you? I bet it is,” he continued, before John could add his own opinion on the matter, although Rodney did a good job summing up: “I bet it’s so--very--good.”
He was working his way down in centimeters and half-steps, holding back from gravity, doing it torturously slow. John shouldn’t be surprised that Rodney had that kind of control: he was a precision worker, when he had to be. John squeezed his thighs, trying to encourage him to move faster, and Rodney--retaliated against him, rewarded him, whatever-both-at-once: clenching the muscles in his ass, stretching his neck, thrilling at the reaction he provoked. John released a guttural exhalation of breath and Rodney twisted his hips, sneer Sid Vicious-good. “This is fun,” he said, like he was the first person to discover it. “Sex is fun.”
John made a noise that one of their very good linguists might have been able to recognize as something distantly related to English.
“I think I want you to touch me now,” Rodney said, grinding down again. “Yeah, that’s right.” Broad smile, tongue flicking out again. “Stroke my cock.”
It was fucking wanton, that’s what it was. John loved it. He pumped Rodney’s cock, using it as a distraction to sneak the other hand around and grab Rodney’s ass. He squeezed and Rodney bore down on him harder than ever, biting his lip as he came, spurting all over John’s hand and both of their chests. He shuddered around John, his control finally breaking, and John caught his arms as he fell, stroking up into him, once, twice, three more times, until the sharp pinch of Rodney’s teeth on his neck brought him his own release.
He was still shaking, but after a few minutes, he managed to roll Rodney off of him. He slid out and Rodney’s fingers tightened on his arm before releasing, relaxing. “Well,” Rodney said, sounding somewhat drunk, “no wonder people are so obsessed with that.”
John found his discarded t-shirt and quickly wiped off his chest, then more slowly cleaned Rodney’s. “You can drop the act now,” he said. “No way was that only your second time. Second time with a man, maybe, but...What?”
Rodney was laughing at him. “You know, you’re allowed to stop with the ridiculous flattery once the virgin is already despoiled.”
“You are such a liar!” said John, and sounding very unconvincing: “Nothing you say can possibly convince me otherwise!”
Rodney lay back against the pillow: a brave explorer pleased with himself and his discoveries. “It’s hardly my fault,” he said, “that I’m such a fast learner.”
*************
NOTES:
1. Okay, so basically this came about because while I find the idea of virgin!John extremely hot
2. And yeah, I know: a fucking horse snuck in here. What is it with these equines, man? Sneaky bastards.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-19 07:35 pm (UTC)You did for me. It was funny and also quite hot. And there was a horse reference which made me laugh so...bravo!