Interlude #1

~ For terrie01 who made me go 'eep' in an entirely different way.

They'd been at the translating thing for a few hours now, and they'd decided to take a break. More specifically, Carson had decided he needed to stand up and stretch, and Rodney and John were taking a mental break by watching him. Rodney was appreciating the benefits of keeping agile -- or at least the benefits of supporting someone else's being agile. Not that Carson was doing much other than move his arms and head around, but he did bend a little, back and forth, and he'd been facing the wall when he'd done it.

Carson had a *really* nice ass.

When he finally took a deep breath and took a step back towards his chair, Rodney turned his attention back to his datapad. Datapad! There were still a few buttons he hadn't figured out yet, but it was possible to change the formatting of entire blocks of text with just a wiggle of the stylus. Not just italics or bold -- he could reorient the text so it read right to left, or bottom to top. Not sure why he'd want to, but--

"Carson."

Rodney snapped his head up at John's tone. Carson was frowning at John, obviously confused.

"Yes?"

John pointed at the wall. "Hands. On the wall."

Rodney stared, then jerked his gaze over to John -- who was, oh yes, doing the stern command thing. Rodney set down his datapad and slipped a hand under the table. Just in case his participation was going to be that of silent witness and not 'play with his cock while I tell Carson not to move.' Both were equally good things, in Rodney's opinion.

Carson had goggled a bit at John before doing as he was instructed. Rodney had to keep his jaw clamped shut. He didn't quite get the same kick out of being ordered around as Carson so clearly did. But holy god, did he love watching Carson get a kick out of being ordered around. Carson put his hands flat on the wall and they both waited.

"Spread 'em," John said, and Carson moved his legs apart. Rodney pressed his hand on his cock and took a deep breath as silently as he could. Carson's head was down a bit, looking for all the world as though waiting for a pat-down from a cop.

They sat and watched him for a moment, then Rodney glanced over and John gave him a smirk. Rodney mouthed, "Do something, goddammit!"

John's smirk grew wider, but he turned back to Carson. "I think you need to lose those pants," John said, nodding as though Carson could see him. Carson's hand twitched as he hesitated. Then, when John said nothing more, Carson whipped his hands down to his fly. Two seconds later and his trousers were down around his knees.

"All the way," John told him.

There was a whimper and Rodney was biting his lip to keep from whimpering right along with him. But Carson stepped out of his trousers, kicking off his shoes in order to step out of his trousers. Then his hands were back on the wall and he spread his legs again.

Rodney wanted to go over and touch him. Run a finger down the curve of his asscheek and make Carson groan when Rodney pushed a finger inside him. But he stayed in his chair to watch.

John waited a few seconds, then said in an almost conversational but oh so not to be ignored tone, "The shirt, too."

One hand grabbed the hem of his shirt and Carson pulled it up and off. Dropped it on the floor with the rest of his clothes and Rodney suddenly realised Carson hadn't been wearing underwear. How had he missed that this morning when they'd gotten dressed?

Who cared? Because Carson was *naked*, head bowed, hands on the wall and arms and legs spread and he was just *waiting* for John to tell him what to do.

Rodney slipped his hand inside his trousers and got his hand on his cock. There was no way in hell he was going to make himself wait.

"Carson?" John asked.

"Yes?" Carson's voice was breathy, shaking just a bit. Rodney wondered just how hard he was.

"Did you know Rodney's jerking off?"

Rodney gave him a dark look and John leered at him. There was a soft inhalation from Carson, then all he said was, "Oh."

John suddenly stood up and he walked -- stalked, really -- over to Carson. He looked at Rodney, staring at Rodney's crotch which he couldn't see through the table. He scooted his chair back a little, until John smiled and nodded. He kept rubbing his cock because if John wanted him to stop he could order Carson to come suck it.

But John stood beside Carson, where Rodney could clearly see both of them. John placed his hand low on Carson's back, just above his ass.
"Rodney?" John asked.

"Y--" Rodney swallowed. "Yes?" He almost sounded natural, as though he weren't jerking off to the sight of Carson, naked.

John held his hand up, indicating he should stay where he was. But he said, "Wouldn't you like to fuck him?" John trailed his fingers down the cleft of Carson's asscheeks and Carson tensed -- his muscles clenching, and Rodney had to fight back a groan as his cock jumped in his hand. Oh dear god yes, he would. Love to be there behind Carson, pushing himself into him.

He watched, transfixed, as John reached over and pulled his asscheeks apart. Showing him where he most wanted to be right now. And Carson was moaning now in tight, short bursts of breath. Like he was already being fucked.

Rodney yanked his trousers open because he really needed more than just a furtive few fingers on his cock. He leaned back in his chair, hand moving faster now that he could get a better grip.

John turned to Carson, and said, "Carson? I think you need to show Rodney what he should be doing." There was a pause, then John leaned in and said in Carson's ear, "You'd better fuck yourself."

Carson jolted, and Rodney could only imagine the heat of John right next to him, voice in his ear and still holding him open. And Carson reached down and placed his finger at his asshole, with John still holding him open for Rodney to see.

Rodney's head dropped back on the chair and he choked on a groan. God, god, Carson was pushing a finger in, and Rodney's cock was so hard he was pretty sure he was going to hurt himself if he didn't come soon. He wanted to fuck Carson, wanted it so badly he knew he wouldn't be able to stand up and get over there, even if John said he could.

Carson pushed his finger inside and Rodney's hips jerked. Just like that, thrusting slowly, making his way in until he was all the way. Rodney's hand tightened and he could feel the whimper in the back of his throat. He opened his mouth to gulp for air, still not making any sound because he was only watching, only observing and not *there* with them, with John holding Carson's ass and Carson fucking himself.

He reached down and grabbed his balls, yanking on them and John had said something that he missed, but Carson had pulled his hand away. Rodney started to frown, because stopping couldn't be a good thing. But Carson was bringing his other hand down and now John was sucking on his fingers. Rodney was pretty sure he'd stopped breathing. He could also barely remember how to make his hand move, and he'd been doing this for years. Up, down, and his hand jerked as though it was caught up watching, as well.

Because Carson was reaching down now with two fingers and slipping them inside. In and out and Rodney needed something solid to bang his head on. Or someone to bang his cock in, because really there was teasing and there was torture and there was Carson, naked, pushing his own asshole wider so that anyone with a hard-on could walk up and fuck him. If only they could walk, and that was the problem, wasn't it? Rodney couldn't move except for his hands which were back to doing their own things nicely, now. Jerking off and tugging at his balls and watching as John showed him what he wasn't doing.

His hips moved forward every time Carson thrust and Carson was panting heavily now, and Rodney wondered if Carson was cursing him for not being over there and fucking him. He'd find out later, because right now it was too late. Too late because of John -- damn him for being over there and able to think clearly enough to make it even *better*. Slipped a finger in along with Carson's own, and Rodney shouted, biting back the sound as the first syllable hit.

He was coming. Carson and John were still fucking Carson, one finger each. Carson's legs seemed to be trembling and John was *staring* at Rodney and saying something, smiling at him. As Rodney watched, John turned his head and gave Carson a kiss on the side of his head, and Carson put his hand back on the wall. Stood there while John unzipped his fly an pulled a small packet of lube out of his pocket. Rodney concentrated on inhaling as John smeared lube on his cock.

John pulled Carson towards him a little, stepping up behind him and Rodney realised John had turned them so he could still see. See as John slipped his cock into Carson, see the way Carson's cock was not-quite hard anymore and there was a huge mess on the wall in front of him which someone -- John, Rodney decided -- would have to clean up.

Rodney just sat there and watched as John fucked Carson. His own cock twitched at the sight but he didn't get hard again. Five times in twenty four hours was probably asking too much. But Carson was moaning, and his breath hitched every time John slammed into him. One hand was still flat against the wall, bracing himself against John's thrusts.

It occurred to Rodney that he might go over there and offer support so he didn't fall, but if he did that he couldn't see the way John closed his eyes. Let his head fall back and and lost himself slowly. John was talking, like always, saying names and cursing and losing consonants as he started fucking harder.

Rodney kept his hand on his cock, stroking a little, as John fucked Carson. Suddenly he saw it, and Rodney could count it down -- three, two, one -- then John shouted. The arm he had around Carson's chest squeezed tight and Rodney knew how that felt, to be held so close and fucked, and he knew that moment when John stopped moving for a split second before he started to collapse.

Rodney was on his feet then, hitching up his trousers and reaching John's side before he could pull out. Put his arms around them both and kissed John deeply, then turned his head and did the same to Carson. They managed to hold themselves upright somehow, until finally Rodney thought he could bear to step away and let John pull himself out of Carson.


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