It was only much later, when they were back on Atlantis, that John really had time to think about the less nerve-wracking, will-we-get-out-of-this, parts of the day and focus on something more interesting.
You know...the hot parts.
Like the fact that Rodney looked oddly natural, maybe even comfortable, bound and on his knees. The collar...well, thinking about the collar was saved for last because the moment John envisioned about it wrapped around Rodney's neck, he came, hips bucking upward as he fucked his own fist.
A half an hour and one shower later, he was hitting the chime outside Rodney's quarters. He wasn't sure what he was going to say, or even if he was going to say anything beyond, "hey, you wanna get dinner?"
Rodney answered the door wearing only a pair of loose comfortable looking sweats, his hair damp and sticking up in messy tufts. He looked at John and then stepped back, letting John in.
"Well?" he said when John just stared at him silently, taking in the way Rodney's neck looked strangely pale and naked. "Did you come by for a reason or is it Stare At the Astrophysicist Day in Sheppard Land?"
"Your neck," John said. He winced at the words, knowing that he was probably about to be called a moron and that he might deserve it for being even more inarticulate than usual.
Instead, Rodney's hand went to his neck, right where the collar had rested, almost as if he missed the presence of the thin band of leather.
They stared at each other and finally Rodney spoke.
"I'm not really very good at it, you know? I have this tendency to talk too much--hide your surprise there, please--and if someone gives me an order I think is foolish, I usually tell them. In fact, I've been accused of topping from below, if you can imagine that." He moved over to the side of his bed, taking something off his bedside table.
"On the other hand, I've been told I have one of the most spankable asses in...well the history of spanking; I've got no real gag reflex that anyone's been able to find, and some people think the sound of me begging instead of berating is kind of a turn on."
He tossed the thing at John, who, although startled, caught it reflexively.
"So?" Rodney said, his chin going up in that familiar way, the familiar gesture serving to emphasize the fine, pale skin of his throat and neck. "You interested?"
Turning the collar over in his hands, John gave Rodney a slow smile.
"Oh hell yeah."
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