The first time it happened, John didn't really register it. It sounded like a random sex noise muttered into the dark. But it didn't matter, because Rodney was over him and inside him and Rodney was coming. Rodney was coming with his eyes shut tight and his cock in John, and he was muttering and groaning and working his hips, and John reached for his own orgasm, hovering there on the edge of his consciousness, just like Rodney's noises. As he found one, he forgot the other.

The second time, John couldn't quite hear it. Rodney's fingers were in his hair, pressing close to his ears, muting the entire world as John sucked him. He was strangely gentle, though. John had expected pushing and pulling and hard thrusting, but Rodney let him set the pace, let him find the rhythm, let him be in control. They were offworld, and they had to be quiet. John glanced up to see Rodney looking down at him, eyes wide with something before they abruptly closed and his fingers tightened in John's hair.

The third time, John heard it loud and clear. They only fucked face-to-face. John loved it. It was deeper and harder and closer - like there was nothing Rodney could hide from John when he looked down and their eyes met. Just before he came, Rodney's eyes would close and he'd mutter in a low voice, soft words moaned out.

"Sam."

This time John heard it. This time, Rodney knew John had heard it. One hard shove and Rodney was away, out, off to one side on the bed.

Sam.

John didn't look back.