He wasn't lying when he reminded himself that most days were great. Most days John was the sweetest live-in lover Rodney had ever had. He woke up in the morning with John wrapped around him; John often bought him new software or new video games just to see the smile light up his face; he even offered to do the shopping sometimes, and he cooked almost every night.
John swore he'd never been in a physical relationship with a man before - except for some stupid thing in college - but he saw to it that they had sex at least three times a week, if not more. Rodney still couldn't believe how mind-blowing the blowjobs were, but John just insisted he was a fast learner. On the days that Rodney wasn't rushing John to "get on with it", John drove Rodney wild with the most wonderfully tantalizing foreplay. In those moments - though they felt like hours - John was focused completely on Rodney. Focused on taking Rodney higher, focused on giving Rodney more. And after Rodney was spent and mumbling "I love you" and other incoherent things, John fucked him.
Sometimes they changed things up a bit, just for fun. But John never let Rodney fuck him. Rodney knew it was a dominance thing, and he was fine with John exerting his superior strength over him, because he didn't cross the line and didn't hurt him.
Usually.
John had told Rodney straight-up when they'd started dating that he had problems controlling his anger sometimes. Rodney had just thought he was over-exaggerating until they got into their first fight and John swung and gave him a black eye. It had scared the shit out of Rodney, but John had apologized after he'd cooled off and then he'd given Rodney the best blowjob of his life. Rodney hated to think that he was so easily bought, but he knew he liked John for more than just the sex, so he let the offense slide.
The second time was worse. Rodney had been in a terrible mood and decided to pick a fight with John over something stupid. Rodney had ended up with a split lip and a bruised jaw.
The third time, Rodney hadn't even done anything. John had had a bad day at work, Rodney had accidentally said something that set him off, and John had taken his frustrations out on Rodney and beaten him until he had dark bruises all over his torso.
All of the incidents had sent up red flags in Rodney's mind, especially when John had beaten him without personal provocation from Rodney, but he knew he couldn't leave John. As much as he hated to admit it - he only ever whispered the words during sex - he'd fallen in love.
They'd been living together six months when John finally ended up breaking Rodney's arm. At the hospital, Rodney agreed with John's story, "Yeah, I just fell down the stairs," but after he was released, he got into his car and locked the doors before John could follow. He drove away and rented a hotel, where he sobbed until he couldn't anymore. He got John's tearful phone message less than a day later, apologizing profusely and begging Rodney to come back home, promising it wouldn't happen again.
Three days later, Rodney drove back to their house and fell into John's arms. The sincerity in that embrace and more of John's apologies and promises were enough to convince Rodney that maybe John had actually gotten enough of a wake-up call to stop.
Rodney didn't know why he hadn't fought back all those countless times. He was just as big as John, and could certainly return some blows, if not overpower John completely. But he couldn't ever bring himself to strike back, to hurt John. And a part of him wondered if maybe, in some fucked up way he deserved this.
While Rodney's arm was healing, John was the best boyfriend anyone could ask for. He ran errands for Rodney and waited on him hand and foot. When the cast finally came off, John gently kissed Rodney's arm and whispered, "I'm glad you're better."
John was gentle and loving and managed to control his temper for the next three weeks. But when he came home on Thursday, Rodney could immediately tell he was furious. Keeping his head down, he asked quietly, "What's wrong?"
"Lost my fucking job," John growled, slamming and banging his way around the kitchen.
"What'd you do?" Rodney asked, then immediately wished he hadn't.
John poked his head around the corner, eyes glaringly angrily at Rodney. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing," Rodney answered hastily, dropping his gaze.
"I didn't do anything," John stated, his tone harsh. "For your information, half the company lost their jobs today."
"I'm sorry," Rodney said softly.
John put away whatever he had been messing with in the kitchen and entered the living room. After looking at Rodney for a moment, he ordered gently, "Come on." When Rodney didn't move, John roughly grabbed his arm and repeated louder, "I said, 'come on!'"
Rodney yanked free. "I don't want to."
"I didn't ask if you wanted to," John growled, grabbing Rodney's arm again.
Rodney twisted free of his grip and muttered, "Fuck off." He shoved John backwards, trying to get some space between them.
John's fist immediately shot out and connected with Rodney's jaw. Rodney swore colorfully and brought his hands to his face as John gripped his arm tightly and dragged him down the hall to the bedroom they shared. He threw Rodney against the wall so hard he bounced off it and fell to the floor. "Get your ass on the bed!" John commanded. When Rodney clutched his hurt shoulder, but didn't move to get up, John growled, "If you're not up there on your hands and knees in five seconds, I'll tie you to the bed."
Rodney whimpered and quickly scrambled to get up. He began quickly removing his clothes, avoiding John's eyes. John took off his clothes as well, and shoved Rodney onto the bed a moment later. "John, please," Rodney said, cowering on the mattress. "Look at yourself…"
"Shut up," John growled, hurriedly prepping Rodney and then taking him forcefully.
Rodney gritted his teeth against the pain and fisted his hands in the sheets. He couldn't say it was non-consensual sex. He didn't want it, and certainly not like this, but he could have put up a lot more of a fight…
It hadn't been five minutes when Rodney felt John still and heard him cry out a loud expletive. A few seconds after that, the pain lessened considerably and they both collapsed onto the bed.
When the buzzing in his ears quieted down, John heard sniffling and a few quiet whimpers from Rodney. John opened his eyes and saw that Rodney had turned away from him and was clutching the pillow. John's eyes widened. "Oh, God…" Rodney was crying. What the hell had he done?! He'd never taken it this far before. "Rodney?" he said almost timidly. He gently rolled Rodney over and the hurt in his lover's eyes broke his heart. He immediately pulled Rodney against his chest, holding him tight. "God, I'm so sorry, Rodney. I don't know… I don't know what the hell's wrong with me." That last part fell to a hoarse whisper when John's voice threatened to break. He realized with a sickening twist in his stomach that Rodney wasn't returning the embrace; he was stiff and tense and John could feel the wetness of his tears.
"I promise I won't do it again. I promise," he said, placing a gentle kiss on the severe set of teeth marks he'd left on Rodney's neck. "Please don't leave again," he begged. He kissed him softly once more and murmured, "I need you." He paused, then for the first time added a whispered, "I love you."
A moment later, Rodney wrapped his arm around John's body and replied with a shaky, "I know…" He pulled them closer together. "I know."