Four hours earlier, Rodney walked across the stage and accepted his PhD. He let John take pictures - Rodney with the diploma; Rodney with Jeanne and the diploma, Rodney and his parents and the diploma. Someone even got a shot of Rodney and John with the diploma.

Two hours earlier, Rodney and John and Rodney's parents and sister finished a fantastic steak dinner, followed up by a rich chocolate cake bearing the words "Congratulations, Smarty Pants." (Jeanne decided on the wording.)

One hour earlier, John and Rodney watched as a plane to Toronto took off.

Right now, John leads Rodney into the already-prepared guest room. Rodney's laptop and books and dissertation materials have been moved to the desk and neatly stacked, the bed itself stripped of pillows and comforter and covered with a spare sheet. The nightstand holds the familiar juniper candles and bottle of sandalwood massage oil.

"I have to work on my graduation day?" Rodney says.

John starts undoing Rodney's tie, then unbuttons his shirt. "Nope, you're on the bottom this time." He smirks.

They get each other undressed, and Rodney eases down to lie on his stomach on the bed. He watches as John lights the candles and turns off the overhead lights, and he sighs when he feels John's bony knees bracket his hips. He makes another happy little noise when John's oily hands start easing up and down his back.

John's a good student, and Rodney's spent months teaching him the finer points of massage, from Swedish to deep-tissue, and his large strong hands have become smooth and deft. Rodney can feel the day's tension bleeding out of the muscles of his upper back and neck, can feel his shoulders relax. He groans when John moves to rub at his lower back, working along the lumbar spine as he's been taught, pushing the heels of his hands outward in long smooth strokes.

John's hands slide over his ass, and Rodney can't hold the groan in. He gasps when John trails his fingers from the base of his spine to the back of his balls, then retraces his path and does it all again. He pushes his hips back when one finger slides inside. John's other hand rests on the small of his back, holding him down as another slick finger goes in, and then another.

"I want you to fuck me," Rodney says, his voice muffled from where his face is resting against his folded arms.

"Can't," John says tightly. "You know oil and condoms don't mix."

"So don't use one," Rodney says. They haven't talked about this. He knows they've both thought about it; both had recent physicals and left the clean bills of health casually within snooping distance. It's still gratifying to hear John's low, rattling groan.

"Oh, god. Are you sure?" John sounds equal parts eager and freaked out.

"Only if you want to," Rodney says, trying not to sound disappointed.

"Yes, I want to," John says sharply, his fingers motionless inside Rodney. "I've just never..."

"Never?" Rodney says. "Then why the physical? The blood test?"

"For you," John says. "So you'd know it was okay."

"Okay," Rodney says. "Carry on."

John laughs softly, but his fingers start moving again, making Rodney moan. After another minute, Rodney feels John shift to the side and sees one long arm reach across for the bottle of oil. He spreads his legs, and John moves between them. A second later, he feels the smooth, slick head of John's cock press against him.

"Do you want me to get up on my knees?" Rodney asks.

John pets the upper curve of his ass. "No, you're perfect just like this."

He moves forward slowly, and Rodney feels the stretch and slide, and he can't help arching his back a little. "Yeah," he says, breathless. "Yeah."

When John gets all the way inside, he pauses for a minute, leaning down to let his chest rub against Rodney's back. "Ready?"

Rodney relaxes further onto the bed. "Ready," he says.

John keeps their bodies tight together, starting up a slow, rolling rhythm, his hands braced on either side, his hips flexing gently. Rodney spreads his legs further and digs his fingers into the sheets. Eventually, John can't keep it slow. He speeds up, moving faster, thrusting harder, and Rodney pushes his cock against the sheet under him in counterpoint to the quick strokes of John inside him. When Rodney comes, John makes a series of harsh, breathy moans, then tenses and follows him over the edge before easing himself down onto Rodney.

Rodney can feel John's cheek against his own, can feel it when John smiles. "Never fucked a doctor before," John says.

Rodney has a grin of his own. "Don't worry," he says. "You'll get used to it."