"Oral fixation, much?" John asks, and twirls the pencil between his long fingers. Rodney ducks his head and tries to order his stomach to stop with the fluttery butterly things. When he looks up, John's leaned in closer, and oh god, that's mesmerizing, the shadow of stubble along his jaw and the flecks of gold in his eyes and and and - "So we are flirting, right?" John asks.