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The door to his room slides open without so much consideration as a knock, but of course that would defeat the purpose of showing up here in the middle of the night, Radek knows, because he would have told him to go away, not that he won't try anyway. “Go away, Rodney,” Radek says without looking up from his tablet.
“Please, I just,” Rodney fumbles with his words, and when Radek looks up he can see uncertainty warring with need on Rodney’s face as the man fidgets in his doorway, then blusters his way in. A foot away Rodney drops to his knees and drops his eyes to Radek’s bed. Rodney gnaws his lip for a moment before looking up to meet Radek’s eyes. “I know I said I wouldn’t ask again, and I’m sorry, I’ve been trying to be good but it’s just not going to get any better than it is and I need it. God, please Radek.”
It’s the begging that undoes him, not the pathetic excuse for an apology. Radek’s half hard just thinking about that sarcastic, cruel mouth begging for his cock and that’s half the reason why he can never say no, even when he wants to. Radek sets the tablet and his game of solitaire aside, gives up and lays sprawled sideways across his bed with his thighs spread wide, half resignation, half invitation. Rodney nuzzles his face into Radek’s groin, breathes deep and makes the little noise that always accompanies Rodney’s first cup of coffee in the morning.
He’d feel used if he didn’t want this so much.
Rodney doesn’t kiss him, doesn’t waste time on pretty words once he knows Radek won’t stop him, just undoes Radek’s fly and pulls him out, hot and hard in his hand through the slit in his boxers. There is no way Radek can pretend it is anything other than it is, Rodney’s pathetic need for human contact, to touch someone, anyone, and Radek’s even more pathetic need to be the one Rodney begs for it. He never should have said yes the first time, but a place inside his chest twisted up and choked in his throat and all he could do was nod and hold on while Rodney sucked him.
It’s not pretty, and it’s not nice, and it’s not even good when Rodney wraps his mouth around Radek’s dick, but all the same Radek can’t look, will come much too fast if he sees the look on Rodney’s face as he bobs his head and drools. He doesn’t move, doesn’t fuck himself into Rodney’s mouth the way he could. Rodney would let him, he knows, would fucking love it, take it and beg for more, but Radek doesn’t trust himself even enough to ball his hands in to fists and grab at the sheets.
It’s enough, more than enough to hear the sound of Rodney’s hands desperately fumbling at his own pants, the slap of Rodney’s hand jerking himself fast and hard, the choked noises Rodney makes when he tries to take too much because he’s fucking starving for it, moaning so wanton it makes Radek’s balls ache. It’s almost too much, too much even to watch the ceiling blur as his lenses fog just a little, so his eyes slide shut tight behind his glasses, so tight a tear trickles out and down into his hair.
Radek doesn’t make a sound beyond the speeding of his breath, too afraid of what he might say if he let himself speak, too embarrassed by the need he knows would come pouring out of him if he let himself so much as groan when he comes. Rodney won’t come until he does, Radek knows. Rodney needs Radek’s cum on his face, slips his dick out of his mouth and smears the tip across his cheek at the first taste, then whimpers like wounded animal and splatters the edge of Radek’s bed with his own.
Rodney is gone when Radek finally moves, opens his eyes and takes a sobbing breath, shuddering deep in his chest. His dick hangs out of his undone pants, limp and spit-slick where Rodney’s mouth had been. Radek doesn’t bother to tuck himself back in, just shucks his pants and crawls under the covers and swears again that this is the last time.