Rodney’s problem was that he wasn’t sure how they progressed from coworkers to lovers. A part of the equation was missing, like a step in some chemical reaction was missing. The heart of alchemy, the mysterious procedure to transform lead into gold. It could be done, but all anyone knew was that step one was lead and step three was gold. Step two was lost in some deity’s unflinching disdain for human knowledge.

It was sublimation, then, that was making John coalesce around Rodney, weighing him down with his flesh. One minute John was as ephemeral as air, surrounding Rodney but not touching him. Then they were twined together and John was only too here, marking Rodney’s skin with rough fingertips. The liquid of courtship was nowhere to be found; perhaps John had poured it into a Styrofoam cup and forgotten it on Rodney’s desk. Maybe Rodney himself had then tossed it into the garbage, mistaking it for someone’s spit-contaminated breakfast. Whatever had happened, it wasn’t here and hadn’t ever been employed.

Rodney still hadn’t come to grips with John wanting him, not that he’d ever admit that to John. It hadn’t been long enough since John had fallen to his knees in Rodney’s quarters for Rodney to let John know there was something in the universe he couldn’t parse.

John was warm inside, smooth and soft but also dangerously tight, his body clasping Rodney’s with the arrogance of ownership. Rodney’s mind might’ve been the most arrogant one in Atlantis, but John’s body had him broken, laid out and almost to the point of begging. Every time John sank back down on Rodney’s cock that feral heat returned, never having left completely even at the apex of the upstroke.

Rodney wanted to be angry that John was in charge but the emotion wouldn’t budge, not when John’s face was so open in its need. He might’ve had control, but Rodney could tell he wasn’t lording it over Rodney. The heart buried beneath the sweat-slicked skin Rodney was touching beat far too fast for John to be anything but lost in what they were making.

It was as though John was abrogating his usual dominance and Rodney was never the kind of fool who didn’t take advantage of such an opportunity. The next time John began to move, he tightened his hands and tilted John backwards, until he was deeper inside of John instead of sliding out. John remained still, letting his weight rest on Rodney’s thighs and Rodney took a moment to look at the man above him.

Exertion left John’s chest slick with sweat so Rodney traced his fingers through damp hair, leaving sinuous tracks that spiraled around John’s nipples. John’s body tightened around him, forcing Rodney to move just to heighten the aching sensation. John trembled around him and Rodney felt a groan start deep in his chest. It got lost, though, just like every other word Rodney had wanted to say since this insanity began. Something in Rodney’s gut that hadn’t quite made it into reality yet was keeping him speechless just in case he inadvertently said something to make John go away. Even now, when the last thing Rodney wanted was for John to be anywhere else, it was pinning his tongue down and only letting loose its own mutterings. Perhaps it wasn’t him; maybe it was John keeping Rodney silent. As much as John liked to hear Rodney speak, he was even more fond of those rare companionate silences that stretched between them at the end of long, successful days.

Rodney suspected John considered this to be a long, successful day.

John’s knees shifted slightly on the bed as he caught the rhythm Rodney set and this time when Rodney moaned the sound actually came into being. John didn’t protest when Rodney pushed him again, bending him to Rodney’s will. Every muscle in that pale, scarred torso was clearly outlined and Rodney drew them into being with his fingers.

Without John’s pleading eyes unmaking him, Rodney looked his fill. The thick, flushed erection jutting from John’s groin was attractively firm and fit Rodney’s hand perfectly. Rodney indulged himself and cupped John’s testicles, measuring each tiny contraction of muscle as heat and stimulation made them shift. John wasn’t silent through this, nor was he still. Rodney pushed up and John pressed down, still watching as John’s penis slid between his fingers. The trust John showed was striking; Rodney had him splayed out helplessly, a living artwork arranged to be defenseless. Yet John didn’t complain; instead he wallowed in the union of their bodies and Rodney’s enjoyment of their joining.

Rodney’s realization that he was shaking just as hard as John came on the heels of an epiphany of another sort entirely. This wasn’t about skin and how much pleasure they could wring out of letting their bodies play together. John wasn’t letting Rodney inside him, nor was he allowing Rodney to touch him. How could he, when Rodney was already there, his self immersed inside John. When had that happened? When had he given himself to John and why hadn’t he noticed that someone other than himself held him in possession? Rodney wanted to know, but when he opened his mouth, all that came out was John’s name, spoken with far more fragility than Rodney had ever allowed himself to express.

But then John’s orgasm rolled through both of them and Rodney went eagerly with it, chasing pleasure with pleasure as he tried to find where he’d hidden himself inside John. The distance between them was too much, the isolation from John too abrupt and entire. Rodney pulled John to him, hating the way their bodies separated even as more of them touched. John’s mouth was a comfort, however, so Rodney let himself sink into it. The kiss was slow and aimless but hidden within the wandering Rodney could taste himself still.