John knows that people are attracted to him, but not in a friendship way, because he's not particularly friendly. People are attracted to him sexually. John gets propositioned a lot. He claims to "never see it coming", but that's a deliberate lie. It's an act that lets him blow off advances when he wants to, and he usually wants to.

John doesn't like aggressive women. He never has. He likes women -- when he likes women -- to be forthright and not pushy. He likes his men to be aggressive. John likes guys who can push him around a little if he chooses to let them. He chooses to let Rodney. Hell, sometimes he asks for it outright.

He goes to Rodney's quarters, and when the door opens he pushes past Rodney with an inelegant shove. Rodney knows the signals, so he grabs John's shoulder and spins him around.

"You need something?" Rodney asks, returning John's glare.

John snaps, "no," and turns as if to leave. It's an act. He's doing his version of a pissy kid pushing against his boundaries. Rodney just laughs and steps in closer. He slides his hand down to John's elbow.

"I think you do," Rodney says, leaning in close. "I think you want me to slam you against the wall and fuck you. Maybe shove you down to your knees and make you take my cock down your throat until you choke on it."

All of John's blood rushes to his dick and his knees start to bend, but Rodney isn't done yet, twisting John's arm behind his back and leaning so his mouth is less than an inch from John's ear.

"I could put you on the bed and get your pants down just enough to finger-fuck you until you come all over yourself. I could jerk off and come on your face, that would be good."

Good, John thinks, would be a colossal understatement. The thought of any of that -- all of that -- makes John lose the ability to breathe normally, but Rodney's still talking.

"You're fucking beautiful like this," he hisses. "I'd like to keep you this way. How long do you think?" Rodney muses. "How long do you think I could keep you tied to the bed, coming back now and then to keep you hard and wanting but not getting you off? You think I could make you cry with it? Need me so much that you can't take it, even though you don't have a choice?"

John's on fire, his cock aching and his shoulder throbbing, because Rodney's keeping the pressure on his twisted arm. He can't speak, can barely breathe, and the need to come is a living thing clawing its way up through his guts.

"God," John gasps. "Please, Rodney."

And finally -- finally -- Rodney takes pity on him. He drags John over to the bed, throws him down and opens John's pants just enough to get his dick free. A half-dozen hard, twisting strokes have John coming, his body rolling up so he can wrap his arms around Rodney's body.

John's still coming down as Rodney strips them both and retrieves the lube from the bedside table. Rodney stretches him -- he doesn't have to do much, John's body is loose and relaxed from the incredible orgasm. They both sigh when Rodney slides in, and John tries to hold his legs up, but Rodney has to do most of the work.

There's no way John's going to get hard again, but he's overwhelmed by the incredible feeling of connection as Rodney moves in him. John sees Rodney clearly: Rodney is the one that's beautiful. For all of his disingenuous posturing, John did see this coming, and he went out to meet it eagerly.