sga drabblefic: discrepancy
Title: Discrepancy
Pairing: John/Rodney
Word count: 1400
Ratings/Warnings: NSFW. This story may be unsafe for people with triggers. ( skip) Miscommunication in a sexual context. Denigration of kink.
Contains: References to clothes fetishes, body part fetishes, rimming.
Summary: John's never thought of himself as kinky. It's a problem.
*
"Could we just have regular sex tonight?" John asks.
"Regular sex," Rodney repeats flatly.
"I-- you know."
"You said you were into it too."
"I am! I just don't want to do it tonight." John doesn't think it's too much to ask. Rodney always wants to slowly undress John, and suck him while John still wears his boots. Tonight John just wants some normal, boring been-together-a-year sex.
"You're not okay with it if you're pathologizing it as irregular," says Rodney.
"I'm not pathologizing anything, jeez. Sorry I don't have the right vocabulary to ask to just fuck."
-
"No," Rodney says, "we can't just have regular sex tonight. I don't think we're going to have any sex tonight." He's pacing, never a good sign. "I asked you about it, more than once. You said you thought it was hot."
John squirms. "It doesn't bug me or anything, so... it didn't seem like that big a deal."
"It didn't seem like a big deal to lie to me?"
"Come on, everyone lies about sex. You were into it so I went along. What do you want from me?"
"Nothing," says Rodney, grabbing his tablet and leaving, "nothing at all."
-
Well... shit. John falls into bed with a growl of frustration. Petulantly he shoves off his clothes, fast and graceless, kicking his boots across the room.
They've pissed each other off before. It's not like they're going to break up over this or anything.
In a weird sort of way, it's even a relief. Maybe it's been nagging him a little that he pretended to get Rodney's thing for stripping him at a snail's pace, and Rodney's whole fixation on his boots.
It takes him a while to fall asleep, though, and he misses the warm comfort of Rodney's arms.
-
The next day, Rodney's professional. He even trades a few sarcastic remarks with John at lunch, and he invites John over for the evening. Maybe he's over it.
When John arrives, though, Rodney looks unhappy, and he wants to sit on the sofa, not the bed.
"So," Rodney says briskly, "obviously, this is a problem."
John sighs. "Look, I'm sorry I said anything."
"I don't believe you! Of course you should have said something! You should have said it months ago!"
"What should I have said? I'm not into this, but you like it, so go ahead? Yeah, that's hot."
-
"At least it's not a lie," Rodney's tone becomes pointed.
"A white lie. People tell them to be nice," John says. "You know, to get along."
"Have we met? When have I ever lied to get along?! Didn't it occur to you that maybe I treat people the way I want to be treated?"
"By yelling and bragging at them?"
Rodney flushes. "Yes, fine, we all know I'm not without my flaws," he says. "But I hold people to high standards because I want to operate at high standards. I'm honest because I can't stand being lied to."
-
"Right, you never lie just to go along," John says, against a wall and defensive. "You think I don't know you get bored when I fuck you? Funny, I don't remember you telling me the truth about that."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Rodney gapes. "I don't get bored! I-- it doesn't get me off, but it feels good. Of course I like it. Some days it's the only time I'm really relaxed."
John stares. He's been so sure... but Rodney looks completely guileless, and aghast that John ever thought that.
"Okay, so... never mind," John founders. "Sorry."
-
"So this is about more than just what I particularly like in bed," says Rodney. "Which was already a fairly enormous issue."
John rubs the back of his neck, restless. "What you like is fine. It's not like it's a hardship."
"Except it must be," Rodney crosses his arms, "because you didn't want to, last night. How long have you wanted to skip it, and just didn't say?"
"It's not like that."
"So what's it like?"
John tries, but... people always think he's bottling things up. Actually, he just can't articulate some things even to himself, let alone out loud.
-
"Let me guess," says Rodney, and John slumps, because yeah, this is one of the reasons they fit together: Rodney can figure out impossible things, and he can talk enough for two. "You don't get the appeal of it. You're willing to let me do it because I like it, but the whole time, you've had intermittent moments when you wish we could just skip it and screw without it."
"Basically," John admits.
Rodney looks at him evenly. "That's really lousy, John."
"I'm getting that." He rubs his face with both hands. "It'll be okay, though, right? I mean... eventually."
-
"I'm not dumping you over it, if that's the question," Rodney answers. "I probably should, but I'm 41 and I'm not up for breaking in a new boyfriend. And even though you're an asshole, mostly, we work."
John slumps, a little more relaxed. "Yeah," he says. "Can you... maybe it'd help if I knew why you like it."
"I had a formative psycho-sexual experience involving slow stripping and boots, so I imprinted on it forever."
"Really?"
"No!" Rodney throws his hands up. "What can I tell you? I've always fantasized about these things. I don't know what caused it."
-
It's like he has to grind every word out one at a time, but John forces himself to stick with it. "I don't mean what caused it. I mean... what do you like about it?"
"It's just something I always imagined. Undressing someone, and they'd let me. They'd trust me to take care of them. It's sexy," Rodney says. "And boots... it's not just boots, it's any shoes. When people are only in their shoes, it's like they're more naked. It's boots with you, because that's what I've always seen you wear."
"It's not a military thing?" John exhales, relieved.
-
"Really not a military thing," says Rodney.
John nods.
"That would bother you."
Another nod.
"I'm not with you because I think it's kinky fun to fuck a soldier," Rodney says, hitting it precisely.
It's such a relief, it almost hurts. John shuts his eyes.
He opens them when Rodney presses against him, sitting close now. John leans into him a little.
"Did you even know that was what was bothering you?"
"No."
"And I figured it out anyway? Ha! Bad with people, my ass."
"Yeah, yeah," John recovers a little, "you know almost everything about everything, you've mentioned it."
-
"You know, some of the stuff you like is kinky too," Rodney tells him. "You may not think so, but it is."
"Like what?"
"Rimming," Rodney answers promptly.
"You like it, though." Thank goodness, John reflects. His life would definitely be poorer without the time he's spent with his tongue up Rodney's ass.
"I do like it. It's still kinky. And the way you hold your fingers tight around me so I can't come while you blow me."
"I let you get off eventually," John says.
"You let me? I didn't know you thought of it that way. That's definitely kinky."
-
John's never thought of himself as kinky before. He's always thought he's easygoing, accepting, adaptable in bed. He's assumed that "kinky" refers to a special demand to be catered to, requiring unusual techniques and equipment.
"The way you obsess about my ass is completely kinky," says Rodney.
"It's a really, really nice ass," John says. "It's worth obsessing about."
"Sure," Rodney says. "Still kinky. It's a fetish."
"Liking it isn't the same as a fetish," John asserts uncertainly.
"John, you came rimming me and fell asleep faceplanted on my ass," Rodney says. "You have a fetish."
John absorbs that. "Huh."
-
"Okay," John says. "So we're both kinda kinky." The word's taking on an easier shape in his mouth.
"We don't have to do it my way-- or your way-- every time. I would've asked if you were in the mood for those things, if you hadn't lied before."
"Right." John sidles a look at him. "Hey, Rodney."
"Yes?"
"I'm in the mood for those things."
"Last night--"
"Last night I thought maybe you were fucking my uniform, not me," John says. "Tonight... I want you to undress me. I trust you."
Rodney kisses him. "Okay," he says. "Let's do that."
Pairing: John/Rodney
Word count: 1400
Ratings/Warnings: NSFW. This story may be unsafe for people with triggers. ( skip) Miscommunication in a sexual context. Denigration of kink.
Contains: References to clothes fetishes, body part fetishes, rimming.
Summary: John's never thought of himself as kinky. It's a problem.
*
"Could we just have regular sex tonight?" John asks.
"Regular sex," Rodney repeats flatly.
"I-- you know."
"You said you were into it too."
"I am! I just don't want to do it tonight." John doesn't think it's too much to ask. Rodney always wants to slowly undress John, and suck him while John still wears his boots. Tonight John just wants some normal, boring been-together-a-year sex.
"You're not okay with it if you're pathologizing it as irregular," says Rodney.
"I'm not pathologizing anything, jeez. Sorry I don't have the right vocabulary to ask to just fuck."
-
"No," Rodney says, "we can't just have regular sex tonight. I don't think we're going to have any sex tonight." He's pacing, never a good sign. "I asked you about it, more than once. You said you thought it was hot."
John squirms. "It doesn't bug me or anything, so... it didn't seem like that big a deal."
"It didn't seem like a big deal to lie to me?"
"Come on, everyone lies about sex. You were into it so I went along. What do you want from me?"
"Nothing," says Rodney, grabbing his tablet and leaving, "nothing at all."
-
Well... shit. John falls into bed with a growl of frustration. Petulantly he shoves off his clothes, fast and graceless, kicking his boots across the room.
They've pissed each other off before. It's not like they're going to break up over this or anything.
In a weird sort of way, it's even a relief. Maybe it's been nagging him a little that he pretended to get Rodney's thing for stripping him at a snail's pace, and Rodney's whole fixation on his boots.
It takes him a while to fall asleep, though, and he misses the warm comfort of Rodney's arms.
-
The next day, Rodney's professional. He even trades a few sarcastic remarks with John at lunch, and he invites John over for the evening. Maybe he's over it.
When John arrives, though, Rodney looks unhappy, and he wants to sit on the sofa, not the bed.
"So," Rodney says briskly, "obviously, this is a problem."
John sighs. "Look, I'm sorry I said anything."
"I don't believe you! Of course you should have said something! You should have said it months ago!"
"What should I have said? I'm not into this, but you like it, so go ahead? Yeah, that's hot."
-
"At least it's not a lie," Rodney's tone becomes pointed.
"A white lie. People tell them to be nice," John says. "You know, to get along."
"Have we met? When have I ever lied to get along?! Didn't it occur to you that maybe I treat people the way I want to be treated?"
"By yelling and bragging at them?"
Rodney flushes. "Yes, fine, we all know I'm not without my flaws," he says. "But I hold people to high standards because I want to operate at high standards. I'm honest because I can't stand being lied to."
-
"Right, you never lie just to go along," John says, against a wall and defensive. "You think I don't know you get bored when I fuck you? Funny, I don't remember you telling me the truth about that."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Rodney gapes. "I don't get bored! I-- it doesn't get me off, but it feels good. Of course I like it. Some days it's the only time I'm really relaxed."
John stares. He's been so sure... but Rodney looks completely guileless, and aghast that John ever thought that.
"Okay, so... never mind," John founders. "Sorry."
-
"So this is about more than just what I particularly like in bed," says Rodney. "Which was already a fairly enormous issue."
John rubs the back of his neck, restless. "What you like is fine. It's not like it's a hardship."
"Except it must be," Rodney crosses his arms, "because you didn't want to, last night. How long have you wanted to skip it, and just didn't say?"
"It's not like that."
"So what's it like?"
John tries, but... people always think he's bottling things up. Actually, he just can't articulate some things even to himself, let alone out loud.
-
"Let me guess," says Rodney, and John slumps, because yeah, this is one of the reasons they fit together: Rodney can figure out impossible things, and he can talk enough for two. "You don't get the appeal of it. You're willing to let me do it because I like it, but the whole time, you've had intermittent moments when you wish we could just skip it and screw without it."
"Basically," John admits.
Rodney looks at him evenly. "That's really lousy, John."
"I'm getting that." He rubs his face with both hands. "It'll be okay, though, right? I mean... eventually."
-
"I'm not dumping you over it, if that's the question," Rodney answers. "I probably should, but I'm 41 and I'm not up for breaking in a new boyfriend. And even though you're an asshole, mostly, we work."
John slumps, a little more relaxed. "Yeah," he says. "Can you... maybe it'd help if I knew why you like it."
"I had a formative psycho-sexual experience involving slow stripping and boots, so I imprinted on it forever."
"Really?"
"No!" Rodney throws his hands up. "What can I tell you? I've always fantasized about these things. I don't know what caused it."
-
It's like he has to grind every word out one at a time, but John forces himself to stick with it. "I don't mean what caused it. I mean... what do you like about it?"
"It's just something I always imagined. Undressing someone, and they'd let me. They'd trust me to take care of them. It's sexy," Rodney says. "And boots... it's not just boots, it's any shoes. When people are only in their shoes, it's like they're more naked. It's boots with you, because that's what I've always seen you wear."
"It's not a military thing?" John exhales, relieved.
-
"Really not a military thing," says Rodney.
John nods.
"That would bother you."
Another nod.
"I'm not with you because I think it's kinky fun to fuck a soldier," Rodney says, hitting it precisely.
It's such a relief, it almost hurts. John shuts his eyes.
He opens them when Rodney presses against him, sitting close now. John leans into him a little.
"Did you even know that was what was bothering you?"
"No."
"And I figured it out anyway? Ha! Bad with people, my ass."
"Yeah, yeah," John recovers a little, "you know almost everything about everything, you've mentioned it."
-
"You know, some of the stuff you like is kinky too," Rodney tells him. "You may not think so, but it is."
"Like what?"
"Rimming," Rodney answers promptly.
"You like it, though." Thank goodness, John reflects. His life would definitely be poorer without the time he's spent with his tongue up Rodney's ass.
"I do like it. It's still kinky. And the way you hold your fingers tight around me so I can't come while you blow me."
"I let you get off eventually," John says.
"You let me? I didn't know you thought of it that way. That's definitely kinky."
-
John's never thought of himself as kinky before. He's always thought he's easygoing, accepting, adaptable in bed. He's assumed that "kinky" refers to a special demand to be catered to, requiring unusual techniques and equipment.
"The way you obsess about my ass is completely kinky," says Rodney.
"It's a really, really nice ass," John says. "It's worth obsessing about."
"Sure," Rodney says. "Still kinky. It's a fetish."
"Liking it isn't the same as a fetish," John asserts uncertainly.
"John, you came rimming me and fell asleep faceplanted on my ass," Rodney says. "You have a fetish."
John absorbs that. "Huh."
-
"Okay," John says. "So we're both kinda kinky." The word's taking on an easier shape in his mouth.
"We don't have to do it my way-- or your way-- every time. I would've asked if you were in the mood for those things, if you hadn't lied before."
"Right." John sidles a look at him. "Hey, Rodney."
"Yes?"
"I'm in the mood for those things."
"Last night--"
"Last night I thought maybe you were fucking my uniform, not me," John says. "Tonight... I want you to undress me. I trust you."
Rodney kisses him. "Okay," he says. "Let's do that."