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Entry tags:
Fic: Whispered Conversations
Title: Whispered Conversations
Author:
tarlanx
Pairing: John/Rodney
For:
margueritem
Whispered Conversations
Sex is like air, someone had once said. It's not important unless you aren't getting any, and that was John's problem. He wasn't getting any, but an overheard conversation whispered in the silence of the commissary last night had revealed information concerning a certain scientist that could remedy his situation.
Part of the reason why he had ended up in Antarctica was the Don't Ask, Don't Tell rule, which was complete bullshit, but it had saved him from being kicked out of the USAF. He had never told anyone of his preference for men, counting himself lucky that he liked women almost as much but, given the choice he preferred the hard muscle of a man to the soft curves of a woman. However, just because he had never told anyone and even though no one had ever asked, that did not mean no one knew. His father had told him to go away and not come back until the problem was fixed, so he had walked out the door and had never looked back because his 'condition' was something he would not change even if he could take some magic pill and be 'cured'. Very simply, he liked men. He liked their strength; he liked the rasp of bristles against his belly, and he liked the feel of a firm, thick cock in his mouth and in his ass. Out of curiosity he had once tried dating one of those muscle-bound women jacked up on steroids but two out of three just did not cut it for him. He liked that extra piece of equipment that came with a man, naturally.
Antarctica had not been too bad considering it was a frozen wasteland at the far end of the world.
With nothing much to do when he was not flying a chopper, he had spent his downtime in an easy relationship with another Major, a marine stationed at McMurdo. With no chain of command issues and with no one to care less what he and Yates got up to when off duty, it had been a sweet life. And then he had to go sit in that goddamn chair and turn it all blue. General O'Neill had made it pretty clear that he either joined the Atlantis Expedition or found himself posted to an even worse place than Antarctica, probably some bug-infested jungle... and he hated bugs.
Two weeks later, he arrived at Cheyenne Mountain with the maximum amount he could carry on his back knowing it could be a one-way trip. Until then, he had not had the dubious pleasure of meeting his new CO and Colonel Sumner was every bit the hardass that Yates had forewarned him about. Still, the presence of so many civilians on the expedition, predominantly male, gave him cause for hope but what he had not anticipated was the early death of Sumner thrusting him into the military command of the expedition. He could work with Don't Ask, Don't Tell but not with the non-fraternization rule. That rule severely limited his options to just Weir, Teyla and McKay.
The obvious first choice was Teyla Emmagan, especially as she could kick his ass with those fighting sticks but although the spark of interest was there, the lack of male genitals was a severe disadvantage. Oh, he could manage to enjoy a relationship with a woman for a time but there was always that desire lurking in the back of his mind for that little bit extra. Unfortunately, that only left John with Rodney McKay, a man whose infatuation with a certain very female, blonde-haired, genius astrophysicist who was also a USAF Colonel was almost as legendary as his arrogance, selfishness and his lack of social graces.
When Rodney walked into the center of an energy-sucking darkness with only the smallest faith in the personal shield's ability to protect him, saving Atlantis at the risk of his own life, John began to look at Rodney McKay in a new light. As the months passed, he noticed all the little things that most people ignored as they focused instead on Rodney's incredibly large ego. He saw Rodney's compassion for others slip out in small gestures that he was always able to explain away far too rationally, such as the chocolate bar he gave to that timid homesick Japanese doctor, saying he had a nut allergy when John knew different. Then there was the time Rodney created a replacement set of earphones for Grodin's iPod, rationalizing that as a means to stop Grodin abusing his sensitive ears through playing distasteful pop music through the interface to Atlantis's main computer console, even though John had heard Rodney humming along on more than a few occasions. Another time, John had found him in his lab late one night repairing Simpson's precious watch, the one her mother had given to her, saying he did not want her having an excuse for being late for meetings even though Rodney was rarely on time.
The man hidden beneath the arrogant mask had intrigued John from the first time he saw that mask slip, revealing someone who cared deeply for the people around him but who was strangely unwilling to acknowledge it. When they tried to thank him that mask of condescension and superiority would settle down over him, quickly discouraging anyone from believing he could be anything but the self-centered, egotist they had come to expect. However, John was not *anyone* and the more he watched, the more he noticed about this man, seeing all his faults but also all of his strengths and that inner beauty that seeped through the cracks when he believed no one was looking.
Recent months, following the siege of Atlantis, had strained their relationship though John was astute enough to understand that his growing attraction to Rodney was part of the problem. He wanted to trust him, and he did trust him despite the Arcturus disaster. He wanted to love him too, wanted to make love to him but the ghost of Colonel Samantha Carter left little doubt of Rodney's sexual persuasion... until now.
Coming full circle, he thought about the whispered conversation on the next table with the occupants too caught up to realize that John's hearing was as sharp as his, admittedly, pointed ears. He let the words roll over him again.
"Gay? You must be kidding. The man has the hots for that genius blonde bombshell at the SGC... Carter."
"And Elton John had the hots for Marilyn Monroe," the other scientist retorted, "but we all know what he prefers."
"Okay, I'll give you that but--"
The conversation had ended with the arrival of a third party, one who would not be made privy to the revelation of Rodney's bisexuality but that snippet of conversation had been enough to raise John's hopes. He had his own near infatuation with unattainable women, like Chaya, so why not Rodney? Perhaps this constant harping on about Carter's many qualities was just an aberration that hid Rodney's true persuasion. John cast his mind back through all the possible romantic situations and realized that Rodney really did not have a clue when it came to women. Even John had noticed the attention Alina paid to Rodney while Rodney had appeared oblivious until it was pointed out to him and, once free of Rodney's body, Cadman had told Katie Brown not to bother with a second date. Sharing his body with him, perhaps she had noticed a certain lack of sexual interest when she took control and forced Rodney to kiss Katie - according to the rumor grapevine that must have started with Cadman - but then noticed a distinct surge of interest when she forced him to kiss Carson Beckett.
John scowled as he recalled that kiss, shocked at how hot it looked, and by how jealous he had felt that it was Beckett and not him on the receiving end. Damn, but that would have been something if Cadman's crush had been on him rather than on Beckett. Not that he wanted Cadman to have a crush on him. Far from it. Still, he could almost imagine the softness of Rodney's lips pressed against his, the scent of his body, the heat of his flesh and the soft scrape of bristles.
"Iratus bugs, Iratus bugs," he murmured, knowing the mere thought of those nasty creatures would act like a cold shower upon the part of his body that was starting to take too keen an interest in his current line of thought.
Once he had calmed his body down, he sipped slowly at his coffee and began to plan how he could win over Rodney McKay and get the man into his bed.
***
Rodney looked over his shoulder as the door to the laboratory opened behind him, surprised to see John Sheppard leaning against the door frame watching him intently.
"Yes?"
He knew his tone left a lot to be desired but he was busy trying to rebuild and calibrate a damaged life signs detector and John was the kind of distraction he could well do without. The man did not even have to speak or move to set Rodney's mind wandering down pathways that ought to remain untrod. After all, John was Captain Kirk's alter ego, with an ascended woman on every planet, and highly unlikely to want to play Kirk to his Spock in the slash sense. Oh yes, Rodney knew all about the kind of fiction that put Kirk and Spock in each other's arms - and beds - finding it both incredibly hot and unsettling all at the same time, mostly because he had spent part of his adolescence thinking the same lurid thoughts that others had written down and posted to the world.
He gave an exaggerated sigh to cover up the physical manifestation of those lurid thoughts, hoping John would get the message and go play soldier elsewhere. No such luck though for seconds later, John was leaning into his personal space, looking over his shoulder with his chest pressed against Rodney's back and his breath hot upon Rodney's neck.
"How's it going, Rodney?"
"*It* would be going far better if I had a little room to work," he grated back, turning his head to remonstrate with John's closeness only to have his lips brush against heated flesh, the rasp of bristles setting his lips tingling. Oh, this is not good, he thought in terror, hoping John did not notice the way his heart was hammering in his chest, or the way his face had flushed in that unbelievably annoying way.
"Am I making you nervous?"
"Truthfully. Yes. And if I wanted a talking parrot sitting on my shoulder I'd have poked out an eye, cut off a leg and called myself a pirate."
"Little extreme," John teased but he did, at least, take a step back. Message received.
Rodney sighed in relief, hoping he could get his treacherous body back under control now he did not have John breathing down his neck, literally, but the pleasure of the moment lingered long after the fear of discovery had faded.
"What do you want?"
John leaned nonchalantly against the bench, picking up and playing with one of the fine tools Rodney needed to complete the repairs on the detector; he snatched it off him and replaced it exactly where it had been before, sighing in exasperation when John simply picked up another tool instead.
"Look, Major--"
"Colonel."
"Yes, yes... whatever. I'm busy."
"No you're not."
"What?" He spluttered, glancing down at the pieces of the detector still scattered across the bench before glancing up in annoyance. "Oh, and repairing important pieces of ancient technology so we can protect ourselves from the Wraith is just a hobby?"
"No... But one detector isn't so important in the scheme--"
"Let's see how unimportant it is when you find yourself on another hive ship without one."
John scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Okay... so maybe this isn't the best time to ask you-- No. Never mind." He turned away and headed towards the door looking despondent, making Rodney feel incredibly guilty.
Rodney swung around on his seat and stared at John's retreating back. "Major?"
John turned, the ghost of a smile playing about his lips. "Colonel."
"I suppose this detector can wait until tomorrow," he offered, and the ghost of a smile gained substance, turning into a smug grin that let Rodney know he had been manipulated successfully once more. He hid his sigh of defeat behind cross-armed petulance and waited for John to make his next move. After all, the man had to have a reason for coming here.
"We haven't had a team movie night since..."
"...we lost Ford," Rodney finished in a flat tone.
"Well, since a long time," John amended, and Rodney knew the man did not want to be reminded of that fact. It had hurt both of them in different ways as, despite outward appearances, Rodney had liked Ford. At least, he had liked the old Ford rather than the new, paranoid Ford that had fed him Wraith enzyme and tried to kill him.
"I thought Teyla and Ronon were on the mainland until tomorrow?"
"Technically they are."
"Technically?"
"Actually."
"So this team movie night would consist of just me--"
"And me." John grinned and then frowned. "Not so much a team night then, I admit but..." he shrugged and gave that half smile and another little shrug that always sent the blood diving south in Rodney's body.
Rodney looked back at the parts scattered across the bench and sighed again. Normally, if his mind said 'work' then it did not matter what his body wanted but even his mind was a traitor tonight, pulling up images of John's lazy smile and that "I've just been fucked through the mattress" look that he did so well without ever getting near a bed. Hot. That look was too hot and Rodney was too tired to resist the urgings of both mind and traitorous body.
Ten minutes later he was seated on the bed next to John, propped up against the wall and totally surprised to find himself invited to John's quarters especially as John had refused him entry the last time he came to his door. On that occasion he had wanted to convince John to let him continue with the Arcturus project despite losing Collins.
As the production credits began to roll, Rodney felt John lean over and watched as he grabbed something from the floor beside him, bringing up a sealed bowl. He removed the lid and the aroma of freshly buttered popcorn made Rodney salivate. It occurred to Rodney that the one and only time they'd had popcorn before was during that first pre-team bonding when the four of them had some how gravitated together to watch John's football DVD. At the time, the aroma was terrible because the personal shield had prevented him from having any of it and once that batch was gone, they never did manage to get more. As he dipped his hand into the bowl, his memories turned to Ford and his boyish humor, a feeling of nostalgia sweeping over him that was eradicated when the film title scrolled across the screen.
"Independence Day?"
"Well, the brainy guy kind of reminds me of you... and I'm the hotshot pilot, saving the Earth from aliens set to annihilate us so they can have the planet."
"A little gung-ho... and the science is shaky at best but--"
"We can watch something else if you'd like. I think Elizabeth brought back a few chick movies."
"This is good," Rodney stated quickly for fear John might make good on the threat and they'd end up watching some Hallmark 'based on a real event' sob story.
John gave him a smug look and squirmed to get more comfortable, his arm stretching out across the stacked pillow behind Rodney, dropping around Rodney's shoulder moments later. Rodney froze in shock, eyes darting sideways in the hope that this was not just a little bonding moment rather than the kind of amorous advance that fueled his fantasies. John simply glanced at him and smiled.
"Comfy?"
"Errhm. Yes," he squeaked, clearing his throat. "Yes. Fine."
"Good." The hand squeezed his shoulder, drawing him closer until he was pressed up against John's side.
Rodney could feel his heart hammering again, threatening to explode out of his chest, his senses reeling as all the blood that should have been feeding his brain pooled in his groin, leaving just enough sense for him to grab the edge of the bedding and draw it over his lap to hide his growing erection.
Ohgodohgod, I'm a dead man, he thought in terror, already anticipating John's reaction when he realized that his physical presence had given Rodney a hard on. Surreptitiously, he glanced towards John's lap but any discovery was lost by the popcorn bowl balanced on his lap so they'd both be able to reach it. Having shed their jackets and boots, the warmth of John's body bled through the thin layers of their clothing and Rodney slowly lost himself in the film, deliberately ignoring the obvious plot holes and inconsistencies with grim determination to simply enjoy the time spent alone with John, held in his loose embrace.
Eventually, he must have relaxed, throwing some of the remaining popcorn at the screen in disgust at the terrible overacting as the gung-ho, ex-abductee pilot did his suicide run, deliberately trying to shy away from the grim reminder of John's kamikaze run on the hive ship and failing miserably.
"Hey, I thought that was a pretty cool scene!"
"Weren't so cool for the kid left on the ground," Rodney whispered.
Finally, John made the connection and he paused the DVD in the midst of the massive explosion, dropping the remote back on the bedside table before half-turning to face Rodney.
"No, it wasn't," he admitted, "but I hope he understood why it was necessary. I hope he understood that it was the only chance left to save the people they both cared about from being wiped out."
"Yeah. He understood...but he didn't have to like it."
"I know."
"What are we doing?"
John frowned, his eyes narrowing in confusion. "Sitting on my bed watching a film."
Rodney stared hard at him until the pretence dropped away and John sat forward, running a hand through his hair again in that subconscious gesture. He flinched slightly when Rodney reached out and touched his tense shoulder, turning swiftly to grab at Rodney's hand when Rodney withdrew it as if stung. John kept a strong hold of Rodney's hand, his thumb massaging it slowly and firmly.
"You deserved better than just a 'so long, Rodney' but if I stopped to think about it then I would never have gone."
"Yes you would have."
John raised an eyebrow questioningly and then sighed, knowing it was the truth. As he sat in the chair listening to the terrible sounds of the battle raging against the city through his head set, he knew what he had to do to save the people he had come to care about. People like Elizabeth and Carson, like Ford and Teyla and even the comatose Bates... and one very special person called Rodney. If taking out that hive ship bought time for the Daedalus to reach Atlantis with the ZPM to save Rodney then his sacrifice would have been worth it. In the end, it had almost backfired on him when he thought he might turn out to be the only survivor as dozens of abandoned darts began a suicide run upon Atlantis, the EMF from their impact blocking out radio signals and leaving him talking to static for several terrible seconds. Later still he had learned of Rodney's close call when his security detail had failed to protect him, leaving him vulnerable to two approaching Wraith guards who made no attempt to stun him, leaving only one intention, a desire to feed upon him.
The very thought of returning to Atlantis to find Rodney a desiccated corpse or worse, drained but still living, horrifically aged like Everett, was the stuff of nightmares and it had taken several long sessions with Heightmeyer to work through those night terrors. Of course, Rodney had not helped by almost getting himself eaten by first one wraith and then by Ellia before Carson saw her off with a well placed bullet, followed by the Wraith onboard the Aurora hunting Rodney down after being forced out of the virtual reality. Except John had been there that time. He had been come back in time to see the Wraith closing in behind Rodney, ordering Rodney down even as he pulled his gun and emptied all his bullets into the damn creature. But it had been a close enough call to fuel more of his nightmares, with dreams of coming out of his pod to the sound of Rodney's screams as the Wraith drained the life from his best friend's body.
"You want to know what we're doing?" John asked softly. He twisted round on his knees, straddling Rodney's thighs and leaning in to place his hands on either side of Rodney's head, trapping Rodney. "This." He leaned in and kissed the startled lips, sliding his tongue between them to stroke deep into Rodney's mouth.
It took a few seconds for his actions to register, and then Rodney was kissing him back hard, confirming what John had taken a gamble on, that Rodney wanted him every bit as much as John wanted Rodney. As the talented mouth, so quick with words and so mobile with expression, worked upon his lips John could only curse the time wasted alone even as he thanked whatever deity had allowed him to overhear that whispered conversation. Rodney's arms were bands of steel around his chest, holding him so tight that he thought the man was trying to suck the last breath out of his body. Damn but that felt so good, hating to break the kiss but he needed air a fraction more than he needed sex right now but it was a close run contest, feeling inordinately happy to be dying of asphyxiation in Rodney's arms. Black dots of oxygen deprivation swam before his eyes and he finally understood what it meant to be kissed senseless.
Beautiful blue eyes, shimmering like the Stargate vortex, held his eyes in concern and John laid any fears to rest when he snapped open Rodney's pants and began to drag them off his body, crawling backwards down the bed until he had worked them all the way off and then waving them in the air triumphantly before tossing them aside.
"Nice boxers, Rodney," he smirked, crawling back up to bat away the hands that tried to conceal the little superman emblems dotted all over them.
"As it happens, they were a present."
"As it happens... I know."
Twin blue lasers stabbed out at John. "You bought them!" he exclaimed and John had to chuckle at the affronted look that morphed into a shy grin.
John had seen them while back on Earth and his thoughts had instantly turned to Rodney and his claim of everyone believing he was Superman. It had made for a great joke at the 'secret Santa' present giving session held for their first Christmas on Atlantis, just before Arcturus. John had wondered if he ever wore the joke present and now he had his answer.
"Who did you think they were from?" He asked lightly as he fingered one of the little emblems before brushing his hand over the burgeoning erection tenting the soft material.
"Oh... Elizabeth, or...oh...maybe," his breath hitched as John repeated the small movement,"...Radek... or Carson even."
John leaned down and mouthed the thick head, tasting the precum through the cotton, his senses filling with the scent of Rodney's arousal. He looked up as he heard Rodney's head thud against the wall.
"Don't knock yourself out. Got plans that need you..."
"Need me?"
"Yeah... need you," he murmured, his fingers catching in the waistband and tugging down the boxers, leaving Rodney half naked but fully erect. The head glistened, a droplet of precum beading, only to be lapped up by John, exploding across John's taste buds.
He yanked off his t-shirt, throwing it to the floor before jumping off the bed in one smooth movement and scrambling out of the remainder of his clothes. Startled by the burst of activity, Rodney did not move a muscle until John settled back down astride Rodney's thighs, naked flesh to naked flesh; his hands pushing up the form-fitting blue science shirt to explore the pale, muscular chest and find the tight nipples that so often teased him in the air-conditioned coolness of Atlantis. John rocked forward until he could press his hard flesh against Rodney's, taking both cocks in hand and shivering in delight at the contact.
He released his own cock and gripped Rodney's firmly. "Want this in me."
Blue eyes widened in shock and John could read the emotions cascading over the so-expressive face. Rodney had expected to be the one submitting rather than the one taking the seemingly more dominant role, and his eyes widened even further when John reached into the bedside drawer and brought out lube, coating his own fingers and thrusting them up his ass without once taking his eyes off Rodney. The Stargate blue of Rodney's eyes became a mere corona around fast dilating pupils, the fathomless darkness sucking John in as Rodney's long pianist fingers wrapped around John's steel hard cock. He groaned at the dual pleasure of those agile fingers surrounding him, quickly removing his to coat Rodney's beautiful cock with lube before raising his body.
Rodney seemed to come to his senses as John started to lower himself onto the rigid flesh.
"Wait, wait, wait. Condom. We need a condom."
John sank down hard, eyes closing as the pleasure overtook the burn of stretched muscle. His hands pressed down hard on Rodney's shoulders, stilling the frantic movements that had ceased momentarily as his cock was sheathed in John's ass.
"You're clean. I'm clean," he whispered, knowing they had suffered enough of Carson's ministrations to know it was the truth and he needed this. He needed to feel hot, naked flesh inside him, wanted to feel the heat of Rodney's release when he came.
"Yes, yes," Rodney relaxed. "Of course. Stupid. Stupid..."
John leaned in and kissed away the self-recriminations, sucking on Rodney's tongue before stabbing his tongue into Rodney's mouth, to mimic the fucking he needed from Rodney. Using Rodney's shoulders for leverage and strong thigh muscles, he pushed up and dropped back down on the hard flesh, swallowing the sob of pleasure that Rodney could not contain as he fucked himself upon his new lover. Slowly, he increased the tempo, grinning as sobs became whimpers interspersed with nonsensical words that urged him onwards. He ground down hard, twisting a fraction and felt the amazing spark of desire that he craved, magnified tenfold because it was Rodney doing this to him. His Rodney... and he came hard in Rodney's busy fingers, his clenching muscles taking Rodney over the edge with him; filling him and making him feel whole for the first time in years.
Afterwards, he slumped down upon the sweat-covered chest, feeling the tickle of damp hairs against his own oversensitive flesh and tasting the salt of perspiration as he nuzzled Rodney's slightly bristled neck and chin. He found the energy to move only when he realized he was crushing Rodney, flopping down beside him on the wide bed.
"I love you."
John leaned up onto one elbow at the half-whispered, shaky words.
"I know." And he did know some how. He had known from the first frantic kiss that sucked the breath out of him.
"What? Captain Kirk not good enough any more, you have to be Han Solo too?"
John laughed and moved back up to kiss Rodney's lips firmly. "I love you too." And he did, only now realizing that he had loved Rodney from the moment Rodney asked him to take out his gun and shoot him in the leg to test the personal shield. After all, how could he not love someone who trusted him so implicitly, with both life and limb?
THE END
Author:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Pairing: John/Rodney
For:
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Whispered Conversations
Sex is like air, someone had once said. It's not important unless you aren't getting any, and that was John's problem. He wasn't getting any, but an overheard conversation whispered in the silence of the commissary last night had revealed information concerning a certain scientist that could remedy his situation.
Part of the reason why he had ended up in Antarctica was the Don't Ask, Don't Tell rule, which was complete bullshit, but it had saved him from being kicked out of the USAF. He had never told anyone of his preference for men, counting himself lucky that he liked women almost as much but, given the choice he preferred the hard muscle of a man to the soft curves of a woman. However, just because he had never told anyone and even though no one had ever asked, that did not mean no one knew. His father had told him to go away and not come back until the problem was fixed, so he had walked out the door and had never looked back because his 'condition' was something he would not change even if he could take some magic pill and be 'cured'. Very simply, he liked men. He liked their strength; he liked the rasp of bristles against his belly, and he liked the feel of a firm, thick cock in his mouth and in his ass. Out of curiosity he had once tried dating one of those muscle-bound women jacked up on steroids but two out of three just did not cut it for him. He liked that extra piece of equipment that came with a man, naturally.
Antarctica had not been too bad considering it was a frozen wasteland at the far end of the world.
With nothing much to do when he was not flying a chopper, he had spent his downtime in an easy relationship with another Major, a marine stationed at McMurdo. With no chain of command issues and with no one to care less what he and Yates got up to when off duty, it had been a sweet life. And then he had to go sit in that goddamn chair and turn it all blue. General O'Neill had made it pretty clear that he either joined the Atlantis Expedition or found himself posted to an even worse place than Antarctica, probably some bug-infested jungle... and he hated bugs.
Two weeks later, he arrived at Cheyenne Mountain with the maximum amount he could carry on his back knowing it could be a one-way trip. Until then, he had not had the dubious pleasure of meeting his new CO and Colonel Sumner was every bit the hardass that Yates had forewarned him about. Still, the presence of so many civilians on the expedition, predominantly male, gave him cause for hope but what he had not anticipated was the early death of Sumner thrusting him into the military command of the expedition. He could work with Don't Ask, Don't Tell but not with the non-fraternization rule. That rule severely limited his options to just Weir, Teyla and McKay.
The obvious first choice was Teyla Emmagan, especially as she could kick his ass with those fighting sticks but although the spark of interest was there, the lack of male genitals was a severe disadvantage. Oh, he could manage to enjoy a relationship with a woman for a time but there was always that desire lurking in the back of his mind for that little bit extra. Unfortunately, that only left John with Rodney McKay, a man whose infatuation with a certain very female, blonde-haired, genius astrophysicist who was also a USAF Colonel was almost as legendary as his arrogance, selfishness and his lack of social graces.
When Rodney walked into the center of an energy-sucking darkness with only the smallest faith in the personal shield's ability to protect him, saving Atlantis at the risk of his own life, John began to look at Rodney McKay in a new light. As the months passed, he noticed all the little things that most people ignored as they focused instead on Rodney's incredibly large ego. He saw Rodney's compassion for others slip out in small gestures that he was always able to explain away far too rationally, such as the chocolate bar he gave to that timid homesick Japanese doctor, saying he had a nut allergy when John knew different. Then there was the time Rodney created a replacement set of earphones for Grodin's iPod, rationalizing that as a means to stop Grodin abusing his sensitive ears through playing distasteful pop music through the interface to Atlantis's main computer console, even though John had heard Rodney humming along on more than a few occasions. Another time, John had found him in his lab late one night repairing Simpson's precious watch, the one her mother had given to her, saying he did not want her having an excuse for being late for meetings even though Rodney was rarely on time.
The man hidden beneath the arrogant mask had intrigued John from the first time he saw that mask slip, revealing someone who cared deeply for the people around him but who was strangely unwilling to acknowledge it. When they tried to thank him that mask of condescension and superiority would settle down over him, quickly discouraging anyone from believing he could be anything but the self-centered, egotist they had come to expect. However, John was not *anyone* and the more he watched, the more he noticed about this man, seeing all his faults but also all of his strengths and that inner beauty that seeped through the cracks when he believed no one was looking.
Recent months, following the siege of Atlantis, had strained their relationship though John was astute enough to understand that his growing attraction to Rodney was part of the problem. He wanted to trust him, and he did trust him despite the Arcturus disaster. He wanted to love him too, wanted to make love to him but the ghost of Colonel Samantha Carter left little doubt of Rodney's sexual persuasion... until now.
Coming full circle, he thought about the whispered conversation on the next table with the occupants too caught up to realize that John's hearing was as sharp as his, admittedly, pointed ears. He let the words roll over him again.
"Gay? You must be kidding. The man has the hots for that genius blonde bombshell at the SGC... Carter."
"And Elton John had the hots for Marilyn Monroe," the other scientist retorted, "but we all know what he prefers."
"Okay, I'll give you that but--"
The conversation had ended with the arrival of a third party, one who would not be made privy to the revelation of Rodney's bisexuality but that snippet of conversation had been enough to raise John's hopes. He had his own near infatuation with unattainable women, like Chaya, so why not Rodney? Perhaps this constant harping on about Carter's many qualities was just an aberration that hid Rodney's true persuasion. John cast his mind back through all the possible romantic situations and realized that Rodney really did not have a clue when it came to women. Even John had noticed the attention Alina paid to Rodney while Rodney had appeared oblivious until it was pointed out to him and, once free of Rodney's body, Cadman had told Katie Brown not to bother with a second date. Sharing his body with him, perhaps she had noticed a certain lack of sexual interest when she took control and forced Rodney to kiss Katie - according to the rumor grapevine that must have started with Cadman - but then noticed a distinct surge of interest when she forced him to kiss Carson Beckett.
John scowled as he recalled that kiss, shocked at how hot it looked, and by how jealous he had felt that it was Beckett and not him on the receiving end. Damn, but that would have been something if Cadman's crush had been on him rather than on Beckett. Not that he wanted Cadman to have a crush on him. Far from it. Still, he could almost imagine the softness of Rodney's lips pressed against his, the scent of his body, the heat of his flesh and the soft scrape of bristles.
"Iratus bugs, Iratus bugs," he murmured, knowing the mere thought of those nasty creatures would act like a cold shower upon the part of his body that was starting to take too keen an interest in his current line of thought.
Once he had calmed his body down, he sipped slowly at his coffee and began to plan how he could win over Rodney McKay and get the man into his bed.
***
Rodney looked over his shoulder as the door to the laboratory opened behind him, surprised to see John Sheppard leaning against the door frame watching him intently.
"Yes?"
He knew his tone left a lot to be desired but he was busy trying to rebuild and calibrate a damaged life signs detector and John was the kind of distraction he could well do without. The man did not even have to speak or move to set Rodney's mind wandering down pathways that ought to remain untrod. After all, John was Captain Kirk's alter ego, with an ascended woman on every planet, and highly unlikely to want to play Kirk to his Spock in the slash sense. Oh yes, Rodney knew all about the kind of fiction that put Kirk and Spock in each other's arms - and beds - finding it both incredibly hot and unsettling all at the same time, mostly because he had spent part of his adolescence thinking the same lurid thoughts that others had written down and posted to the world.
He gave an exaggerated sigh to cover up the physical manifestation of those lurid thoughts, hoping John would get the message and go play soldier elsewhere. No such luck though for seconds later, John was leaning into his personal space, looking over his shoulder with his chest pressed against Rodney's back and his breath hot upon Rodney's neck.
"How's it going, Rodney?"
"*It* would be going far better if I had a little room to work," he grated back, turning his head to remonstrate with John's closeness only to have his lips brush against heated flesh, the rasp of bristles setting his lips tingling. Oh, this is not good, he thought in terror, hoping John did not notice the way his heart was hammering in his chest, or the way his face had flushed in that unbelievably annoying way.
"Am I making you nervous?"
"Truthfully. Yes. And if I wanted a talking parrot sitting on my shoulder I'd have poked out an eye, cut off a leg and called myself a pirate."
"Little extreme," John teased but he did, at least, take a step back. Message received.
Rodney sighed in relief, hoping he could get his treacherous body back under control now he did not have John breathing down his neck, literally, but the pleasure of the moment lingered long after the fear of discovery had faded.
"What do you want?"
John leaned nonchalantly against the bench, picking up and playing with one of the fine tools Rodney needed to complete the repairs on the detector; he snatched it off him and replaced it exactly where it had been before, sighing in exasperation when John simply picked up another tool instead.
"Look, Major--"
"Colonel."
"Yes, yes... whatever. I'm busy."
"No you're not."
"What?" He spluttered, glancing down at the pieces of the detector still scattered across the bench before glancing up in annoyance. "Oh, and repairing important pieces of ancient technology so we can protect ourselves from the Wraith is just a hobby?"
"No... But one detector isn't so important in the scheme--"
"Let's see how unimportant it is when you find yourself on another hive ship without one."
John scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Okay... so maybe this isn't the best time to ask you-- No. Never mind." He turned away and headed towards the door looking despondent, making Rodney feel incredibly guilty.
Rodney swung around on his seat and stared at John's retreating back. "Major?"
John turned, the ghost of a smile playing about his lips. "Colonel."
"I suppose this detector can wait until tomorrow," he offered, and the ghost of a smile gained substance, turning into a smug grin that let Rodney know he had been manipulated successfully once more. He hid his sigh of defeat behind cross-armed petulance and waited for John to make his next move. After all, the man had to have a reason for coming here.
"We haven't had a team movie night since..."
"...we lost Ford," Rodney finished in a flat tone.
"Well, since a long time," John amended, and Rodney knew the man did not want to be reminded of that fact. It had hurt both of them in different ways as, despite outward appearances, Rodney had liked Ford. At least, he had liked the old Ford rather than the new, paranoid Ford that had fed him Wraith enzyme and tried to kill him.
"I thought Teyla and Ronon were on the mainland until tomorrow?"
"Technically they are."
"Technically?"
"Actually."
"So this team movie night would consist of just me--"
"And me." John grinned and then frowned. "Not so much a team night then, I admit but..." he shrugged and gave that half smile and another little shrug that always sent the blood diving south in Rodney's body.
Rodney looked back at the parts scattered across the bench and sighed again. Normally, if his mind said 'work' then it did not matter what his body wanted but even his mind was a traitor tonight, pulling up images of John's lazy smile and that "I've just been fucked through the mattress" look that he did so well without ever getting near a bed. Hot. That look was too hot and Rodney was too tired to resist the urgings of both mind and traitorous body.
Ten minutes later he was seated on the bed next to John, propped up against the wall and totally surprised to find himself invited to John's quarters especially as John had refused him entry the last time he came to his door. On that occasion he had wanted to convince John to let him continue with the Arcturus project despite losing Collins.
As the production credits began to roll, Rodney felt John lean over and watched as he grabbed something from the floor beside him, bringing up a sealed bowl. He removed the lid and the aroma of freshly buttered popcorn made Rodney salivate. It occurred to Rodney that the one and only time they'd had popcorn before was during that first pre-team bonding when the four of them had some how gravitated together to watch John's football DVD. At the time, the aroma was terrible because the personal shield had prevented him from having any of it and once that batch was gone, they never did manage to get more. As he dipped his hand into the bowl, his memories turned to Ford and his boyish humor, a feeling of nostalgia sweeping over him that was eradicated when the film title scrolled across the screen.
"Independence Day?"
"Well, the brainy guy kind of reminds me of you... and I'm the hotshot pilot, saving the Earth from aliens set to annihilate us so they can have the planet."
"A little gung-ho... and the science is shaky at best but--"
"We can watch something else if you'd like. I think Elizabeth brought back a few chick movies."
"This is good," Rodney stated quickly for fear John might make good on the threat and they'd end up watching some Hallmark 'based on a real event' sob story.
John gave him a smug look and squirmed to get more comfortable, his arm stretching out across the stacked pillow behind Rodney, dropping around Rodney's shoulder moments later. Rodney froze in shock, eyes darting sideways in the hope that this was not just a little bonding moment rather than the kind of amorous advance that fueled his fantasies. John simply glanced at him and smiled.
"Comfy?"
"Errhm. Yes," he squeaked, clearing his throat. "Yes. Fine."
"Good." The hand squeezed his shoulder, drawing him closer until he was pressed up against John's side.
Rodney could feel his heart hammering again, threatening to explode out of his chest, his senses reeling as all the blood that should have been feeding his brain pooled in his groin, leaving just enough sense for him to grab the edge of the bedding and draw it over his lap to hide his growing erection.
Ohgodohgod, I'm a dead man, he thought in terror, already anticipating John's reaction when he realized that his physical presence had given Rodney a hard on. Surreptitiously, he glanced towards John's lap but any discovery was lost by the popcorn bowl balanced on his lap so they'd both be able to reach it. Having shed their jackets and boots, the warmth of John's body bled through the thin layers of their clothing and Rodney slowly lost himself in the film, deliberately ignoring the obvious plot holes and inconsistencies with grim determination to simply enjoy the time spent alone with John, held in his loose embrace.
Eventually, he must have relaxed, throwing some of the remaining popcorn at the screen in disgust at the terrible overacting as the gung-ho, ex-abductee pilot did his suicide run, deliberately trying to shy away from the grim reminder of John's kamikaze run on the hive ship and failing miserably.
"Hey, I thought that was a pretty cool scene!"
"Weren't so cool for the kid left on the ground," Rodney whispered.
Finally, John made the connection and he paused the DVD in the midst of the massive explosion, dropping the remote back on the bedside table before half-turning to face Rodney.
"No, it wasn't," he admitted, "but I hope he understood why it was necessary. I hope he understood that it was the only chance left to save the people they both cared about from being wiped out."
"Yeah. He understood...but he didn't have to like it."
"I know."
"What are we doing?"
John frowned, his eyes narrowing in confusion. "Sitting on my bed watching a film."
Rodney stared hard at him until the pretence dropped away and John sat forward, running a hand through his hair again in that subconscious gesture. He flinched slightly when Rodney reached out and touched his tense shoulder, turning swiftly to grab at Rodney's hand when Rodney withdrew it as if stung. John kept a strong hold of Rodney's hand, his thumb massaging it slowly and firmly.
"You deserved better than just a 'so long, Rodney' but if I stopped to think about it then I would never have gone."
"Yes you would have."
John raised an eyebrow questioningly and then sighed, knowing it was the truth. As he sat in the chair listening to the terrible sounds of the battle raging against the city through his head set, he knew what he had to do to save the people he had come to care about. People like Elizabeth and Carson, like Ford and Teyla and even the comatose Bates... and one very special person called Rodney. If taking out that hive ship bought time for the Daedalus to reach Atlantis with the ZPM to save Rodney then his sacrifice would have been worth it. In the end, it had almost backfired on him when he thought he might turn out to be the only survivor as dozens of abandoned darts began a suicide run upon Atlantis, the EMF from their impact blocking out radio signals and leaving him talking to static for several terrible seconds. Later still he had learned of Rodney's close call when his security detail had failed to protect him, leaving him vulnerable to two approaching Wraith guards who made no attempt to stun him, leaving only one intention, a desire to feed upon him.
The very thought of returning to Atlantis to find Rodney a desiccated corpse or worse, drained but still living, horrifically aged like Everett, was the stuff of nightmares and it had taken several long sessions with Heightmeyer to work through those night terrors. Of course, Rodney had not helped by almost getting himself eaten by first one wraith and then by Ellia before Carson saw her off with a well placed bullet, followed by the Wraith onboard the Aurora hunting Rodney down after being forced out of the virtual reality. Except John had been there that time. He had been come back in time to see the Wraith closing in behind Rodney, ordering Rodney down even as he pulled his gun and emptied all his bullets into the damn creature. But it had been a close enough call to fuel more of his nightmares, with dreams of coming out of his pod to the sound of Rodney's screams as the Wraith drained the life from his best friend's body.
"You want to know what we're doing?" John asked softly. He twisted round on his knees, straddling Rodney's thighs and leaning in to place his hands on either side of Rodney's head, trapping Rodney. "This." He leaned in and kissed the startled lips, sliding his tongue between them to stroke deep into Rodney's mouth.
It took a few seconds for his actions to register, and then Rodney was kissing him back hard, confirming what John had taken a gamble on, that Rodney wanted him every bit as much as John wanted Rodney. As the talented mouth, so quick with words and so mobile with expression, worked upon his lips John could only curse the time wasted alone even as he thanked whatever deity had allowed him to overhear that whispered conversation. Rodney's arms were bands of steel around his chest, holding him so tight that he thought the man was trying to suck the last breath out of his body. Damn but that felt so good, hating to break the kiss but he needed air a fraction more than he needed sex right now but it was a close run contest, feeling inordinately happy to be dying of asphyxiation in Rodney's arms. Black dots of oxygen deprivation swam before his eyes and he finally understood what it meant to be kissed senseless.
Beautiful blue eyes, shimmering like the Stargate vortex, held his eyes in concern and John laid any fears to rest when he snapped open Rodney's pants and began to drag them off his body, crawling backwards down the bed until he had worked them all the way off and then waving them in the air triumphantly before tossing them aside.
"Nice boxers, Rodney," he smirked, crawling back up to bat away the hands that tried to conceal the little superman emblems dotted all over them.
"As it happens, they were a present."
"As it happens... I know."
Twin blue lasers stabbed out at John. "You bought them!" he exclaimed and John had to chuckle at the affronted look that morphed into a shy grin.
John had seen them while back on Earth and his thoughts had instantly turned to Rodney and his claim of everyone believing he was Superman. It had made for a great joke at the 'secret Santa' present giving session held for their first Christmas on Atlantis, just before Arcturus. John had wondered if he ever wore the joke present and now he had his answer.
"Who did you think they were from?" He asked lightly as he fingered one of the little emblems before brushing his hand over the burgeoning erection tenting the soft material.
"Oh... Elizabeth, or...oh...maybe," his breath hitched as John repeated the small movement,"...Radek... or Carson even."
John leaned down and mouthed the thick head, tasting the precum through the cotton, his senses filling with the scent of Rodney's arousal. He looked up as he heard Rodney's head thud against the wall.
"Don't knock yourself out. Got plans that need you..."
"Need me?"
"Yeah... need you," he murmured, his fingers catching in the waistband and tugging down the boxers, leaving Rodney half naked but fully erect. The head glistened, a droplet of precum beading, only to be lapped up by John, exploding across John's taste buds.
He yanked off his t-shirt, throwing it to the floor before jumping off the bed in one smooth movement and scrambling out of the remainder of his clothes. Startled by the burst of activity, Rodney did not move a muscle until John settled back down astride Rodney's thighs, naked flesh to naked flesh; his hands pushing up the form-fitting blue science shirt to explore the pale, muscular chest and find the tight nipples that so often teased him in the air-conditioned coolness of Atlantis. John rocked forward until he could press his hard flesh against Rodney's, taking both cocks in hand and shivering in delight at the contact.
He released his own cock and gripped Rodney's firmly. "Want this in me."
Blue eyes widened in shock and John could read the emotions cascading over the so-expressive face. Rodney had expected to be the one submitting rather than the one taking the seemingly more dominant role, and his eyes widened even further when John reached into the bedside drawer and brought out lube, coating his own fingers and thrusting them up his ass without once taking his eyes off Rodney. The Stargate blue of Rodney's eyes became a mere corona around fast dilating pupils, the fathomless darkness sucking John in as Rodney's long pianist fingers wrapped around John's steel hard cock. He groaned at the dual pleasure of those agile fingers surrounding him, quickly removing his to coat Rodney's beautiful cock with lube before raising his body.
Rodney seemed to come to his senses as John started to lower himself onto the rigid flesh.
"Wait, wait, wait. Condom. We need a condom."
John sank down hard, eyes closing as the pleasure overtook the burn of stretched muscle. His hands pressed down hard on Rodney's shoulders, stilling the frantic movements that had ceased momentarily as his cock was sheathed in John's ass.
"You're clean. I'm clean," he whispered, knowing they had suffered enough of Carson's ministrations to know it was the truth and he needed this. He needed to feel hot, naked flesh inside him, wanted to feel the heat of Rodney's release when he came.
"Yes, yes," Rodney relaxed. "Of course. Stupid. Stupid..."
John leaned in and kissed away the self-recriminations, sucking on Rodney's tongue before stabbing his tongue into Rodney's mouth, to mimic the fucking he needed from Rodney. Using Rodney's shoulders for leverage and strong thigh muscles, he pushed up and dropped back down on the hard flesh, swallowing the sob of pleasure that Rodney could not contain as he fucked himself upon his new lover. Slowly, he increased the tempo, grinning as sobs became whimpers interspersed with nonsensical words that urged him onwards. He ground down hard, twisting a fraction and felt the amazing spark of desire that he craved, magnified tenfold because it was Rodney doing this to him. His Rodney... and he came hard in Rodney's busy fingers, his clenching muscles taking Rodney over the edge with him; filling him and making him feel whole for the first time in years.
Afterwards, he slumped down upon the sweat-covered chest, feeling the tickle of damp hairs against his own oversensitive flesh and tasting the salt of perspiration as he nuzzled Rodney's slightly bristled neck and chin. He found the energy to move only when he realized he was crushing Rodney, flopping down beside him on the wide bed.
"I love you."
John leaned up onto one elbow at the half-whispered, shaky words.
"I know." And he did know some how. He had known from the first frantic kiss that sucked the breath out of him.
"What? Captain Kirk not good enough any more, you have to be Han Solo too?"
John laughed and moved back up to kiss Rodney's lips firmly. "I love you too." And he did, only now realizing that he had loved Rodney from the moment Rodney asked him to take out his gun and shoot him in the leg to test the personal shield. After all, how could he not love someone who trusted him so implicitly, with both life and limb?
THE END