Ficcy ficcy
Well, I wrote this fic for a challenge that I thought ended today but apparently ends September 18th. Oh well, it's not like I'll have more time to work on it later. Thanks and big smooches to sweeneybird for making time for me and for making the ending work.
Show: SG: Atlantis
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Warnings: slash but nothing more explicit than smooches
Charmed
Worst Case Scenario Challenge:
Or, How I was Struck By Gay Lightning in the Pegasus Galaxy.
“Well?”
“Well what?” Rodney asked, his voice only half intelligible as he spoke around the small flashlight clenched in his teeth.
“Are you almost done here?”
Shading his eyes against the midday sun Rodney spat the flashlight out into his other hand and squinted up at John in annoyance. “You know it might go a little faster if you stopped asking every two minutes.” Dropping his hand, he fumbled around in his bag and grabbed the Ancient equivalent of an Allen wrench. “But,” he continued as he stuck his head back underneath the power station, “it just so happens that, unlike the other sixty-seven times you’ve asked since we’ve been out here, I am, in fact, finished.”
“About time.” John mumbled under his breath as he surveyed the pier, checking absently for any tools that might have rolled away.
Rodney shot a glare at the back of John’s head. “I heard that.” He tightened the casing on the power station and put the last of his tools back in the bag. “What’s the matter with you? You have a hot date or something?”
John snorted as he bent and picked up a small screw, tossing it to Rodney. “You’re the one with the big romance.”
“One date. We had one date.” Rodney examined the wayward screw, frowning. “And that was, well, the words unmitigated disaster come to mind.”
“Yeah, well, neither of us has had a lot of luck with the ladies since we came to Atlantis. Maybe it’s time we-”
Rodney flinched as a bright flash and deafening crack split the air. Instinctively, the scientist ducked and covered, huddling behind the meager protection of the power station. No more blasts followed; there was only an eerie silence and the heavy smell of ozone. Rodney cautiously lifted his head and looked skyward, relieved that there were no Wraith darts to be seen but frowning at the storm clouds that were gathering.
“Colonel?” he called, looking at the spot where John had been standing. When he realized John wasn’t there he spun around, eyes darting frantically, his voice raised in a panicked shout, “Colonel?”
Finally, he saw an unmoving figure lying in a heap near the door. Rodney rushed to John’s side and shook him tentatively. “John?” He grimaced at the stench of burnt hair that was wafting up from John’s prone body. Another bright flash suddenly lit the sky, followed by a deafening crack as lightning struck one of the spires overhead. Rodney froze momentarily, huddled protectively over John’s form, until another lightning strike broke his paralysis. He grabbed John by the armpits and dragged him backwards through the door into the corridor of Atlantis.
Tilting John’s chin up, Rodney checked for any sign of breathing; finding none, he began mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. After the fifth breath he paused and checked for a pulse. His stomach twisted in fear when there was no reassuring rhythm beneath his fingers.
Using one hand to find the proper placement for chest compressions, he keyed his radio with the other hand. “This is McKay. I’ve got a medical emergency on the south pier.”
As he began the first round of compressions Carson’s voice replied over the radio. “What’s the emergency Rodney?”
“I think Sheppard got hit by lightning. He’s not breathing and there’s no pulse.” Rodney paused to give John two more breaths.
“We’re on our way, Rodney.”
Rodney began another round of compressions and grimaced as he looked at John’s slack features. “Hurry,” he whispered.
###
Ow, John thought as he returned abruptly to consciousness. His second thought involved an overwhelming need for oxygen. John fought to take a breath but his lungs stubbornly refused cooperate. Then, suddenly, there were strong hands on his face and warm pressure around his mouth as air was gently forced into his starving lungs. His body convulsed slightly, lungs stuttering and then, finally, remembering how to breathe on their own. With a monumental effort, John opened his eyes to find a very worried set of blue eyes staring down at him.
“It’s about time,” Rodney huffed, but he looked more worried than annoyed. John opened his mouth to say so but as he touched his tongue to his lips the fact that he could taste Rodney there distracted him. He let his eyes slide shut again as he recalled the sensation of Rodney’s mouth on his own. As he drifted back into unconsciousness, he was acutely aware of Rodney’s thumb stroking small circles on his neck and murmuring threats in a low voice that sounded oddly reassuring.
###
Rodney groaned in frustration at the knock on his door. It had been a really long day and compounded with the previous day, which had included the near death of Colonel Sheppard, all Rodney wanted right now was a decent night’s sleep.
“Unless something is about to explode, go away.” Rodney hollered at the closed door.
Rodney’s eyes flew open as his door slid open to reveal John standing in his doorway. “And they say you’re not a people person.”
Rodney sat up and blinked slowly at John who was looking annoyingly healthy for someone who had technically died less than thirty-six hours ago. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”
John shrugged and stepped into Rodney’s room, the door sliding shut behind him. “Shouldn’t you?”
Glaring at him, Rodney replied testily, “I was.”
“Most people don’t sleep fully clothed.”
“Yes, well, I expect most people don’t get called out of bed at all hours of the night to save everyone they know from imminent death by exploding Ancient devices, failing shields, attacking space vampires or killer goldfish.”
“Killer goldfish?”
Rodney sighed and scooted back on the bed, resting his back against the wall. “It’s only a matter of time, don’t you think?”
John just nodded, smiling indulgently.
Rodney frowned. “What? What’s with that look?”
“What look?”
“That one. That look on your face right now that you’re trying hard to cover with your ‘Rodney, it’s just your imagination, there’s no such thing as killer goldfish’ look. And failing miserably, I might add.”
John couldn’t seem to stop his goofy smile and the more Rodney ranted, the worse it got. John closed his eyes briefly. God help him, he found Rodney’s babbling endearing - he was screwed.
When he opened his eyes, there was an anxious Canadian in his face. “Are you okay? Should I call Carson?”
“No, I mean yes. Yes, I’m fine, no you don’t need to call Carson.” John took a step backwards and leaned against Rodney’s desk. “I just wanted to talk to you,” he said nonchalantly.
Rodney folded his arms over his chest and regarded him with suspicion.
John winced a little as “nonchalant” fell flat on its face and ran off to sulk leaving him with his old standby “charm”. He could do charm. Hell, he practically oozed charm. The problem was that he suspected Rodney was impervious to his charm, which would only leave him with honesty.
He looked at Rodney, who was beginning to frown again. Well, what the hell, maybe charmingly honest would work with Rodney. It’s not like he had a lot to lose… except pretty much everything.
Rodney opened his mouth; probably to ask John if he was okay again but John cut him off. “So, Carson says you were pretty smooth yesterday.”
“I… what?” Rodney looked confused.
“You handled everything really well, you know, the saving my life and all. Have I thanked you for that, by the way?”
“Well, no, but it’s not like-” Rodney shook his head briefly, his lips pressed together in a tight line. “Just try not to make a habit of it.”
“Getting struck by lightning?”
“Dying.” Rodney shot back in a flat tone.
John nodded slowly, holding his friend’s gaze. “I’ll do my best.” That was the most he could promise and Rodney knew that. John felt a tingle run through him as he noted the fear beneath Rodney’s façade of annoyance. Unthinkingly, he ran his tongue along his bottom lip as if he could still taste Rodney there. He had, actually, for hours yesterday in the infirmary.
It was odd, he couldn’t remember the two hours prior to the incident but he remembered the feel of Rodney’s mouth on his with crystal clarity. And with that one brief touch, all of John’s dutifully constructed walls of repression and denial had evaporated. His brain and his body kept coming back to that moment, the moment when everything clicked into place. John considered his next approach carefully and hoped he wasn’t fucking things up.
“Carson said you handled it with, and I quote, ‘textbook perfection.’” John smiled charmingly. “How did you know what to do?”
“Boy Scout camp.”
John’s mouth fell open in surprise. “You were a Boy Scout?”
Rodney rolled his eyes. “No, it was my father’s idea. In order to get permission to go to Space Camp I had to also do a week of Boy Scout camp. I spent the entire week in the infirmary after falling into a patch of stinging nettles on our first hike.”
John winced in sympathy as Rodney continued. “Anyway, I was bored out of my mind and there was nothing to read except the Boy Scout handbook. So I memorized it.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
Rodney shrugged. “Anyhow, there was a section on lightning strikes, you know it’s appalling how many Scouts are killed each year by lightning.”
John nodded. “Apparently they didn’t read the handbook.”
“Yes, well, apparently not. So was there something else or did you come here to have me relive painful memories of my youth for your own personal bedtime story?”
John ignored the bitching and concentrated on the way Rodney’s eyes were beginning to dart nervously around the room. “I was thinking,” John said as he casually leaned into Rodney’s personal space, “it might be useful to know how to treat a lightning strike victim. We are sitting on a vast amount of water, here.”
Rodney’s mouth quirked down but he didn’t pull back. “You want me to teach a class? Isn’t that more Carson’s area?”
“I was thinking that maybe you could go over the basics,” John said. When Rodney simply raised an eyebrow at him, he clarified. “With me.”
“With you?”
John nodded. “With me.”
“Now?”
“Now is good.”
Rodney took a step back and ran a hand over his face. “And when I’m done you’ll go to bed and leave me alone to get some sleep?”
“When you’re done I’ll go to bed.” John answered carefully.
Rodney gave him a calculated stare but John just smiled at him, charmingly.
“Fine.” Rodney took a deep breath and blew it out. “First,” he recited in a sing-song voice, “move the victim to a-- what are you doing?”
John blinked at him innocently. “Role-playing.”
Rodney looked down at John’s hands wrapped around his biceps and swallowed nervously. “Role-playing?”
John nodded seriously. “It’s the best way to learn a new technique.” He squeezed Rodney’s arms lightly. “You were saying? Move the victim?”
“Uh, yes, move the victim to a safe location…” Rodney’s voice trailed off as John gently pushed him backwards and down onto the bed. “Er, seriously, what are you doing?”
“Moving you to a safe location. The bed is pretty safe, wouldn’t you say?” John asked lightly as he sat next to Rodney and pushed him into a reclining position.
“Yes, but it’s not as if-”
“Rodney.”
“What?”
“Trust me.”
Rodney opened his mouth and then shut it quickly, his lips pressed into a thin line again. His eyes closed for a brief moment and when he opened them, John felt like he could see the resolve in them. When Rodney spoke again, his voice was soft. “Don’t be afraid to touch the victim.”
John nodded, his mouth suddenly dry as he ran his hands down Rodney’s arms, then back up to his shoulders. He let one hand cup the back of Rodney’s neck and his thumb began to trace small circles on Rodney’s neck, unconsciously mimicking what Rodney had done for him the day before.
Rodney’s eyes fluttered closed as a quiet sound of contentment escaped his lips. To cover it up, he cleared his throat and instructed, “Check to see if the victim is breathing.”
John leaned forward, absurdly thankful that Rodney’s eyes were still closed. He stopped just as their noses met and turned his cheek, feeling Rodney’s warm breath spill over his skin. For a long moment he simply breathed with Rodney, allowing their rhythms to match, letting the other man’s breath thaw the places in him that he hadn’t even realized were frozen until this very moment.
John waited for Rodney to continue his instructions but when the other man didn’t say anything he prompted him. “And?”
“And?”
“If the victim isn’t breathing?”
Rodney’s breath sighed across John’s cheek. “If the victim isn’t breathing… you should begin mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.”
Lifting his head, John noticed that Rodney’s eyes were open again and regarding him with equal parts longing and trepidation. Carefully, John lowered his mouth to Rodney’s in a fairly chaste kiss that the other man could choose to misinterpret if he desired. Apparently that wasn’t what Rodney desired because he made that little sound again, a needy sort of whimper that made John shiver.
Rodney’s lips parted under his and John allowed his tongue to dart out and lick Rodney’s lower lip. They both moaned at the contact and suddenly they were kissing desperately, John’s hands cradled Rodney’s face and Rodney’s hands gripped John’s biceps with an almost painful intensity.
When they broke apart to breathe John rested his forehead against Rodney’s, their noses bumping against each other as they panted for air. He felt a peculiar huff of breath that was almost a laugh ghost across his face and his stomach clenched with uncertainty. “What?”
“Give one breath every five seconds.”
“What?”
“The instructions are to give one breath every five seconds, not prevent the victim from breathing for several minutes,” Rodney clarified.
John relaxed as he heard the amusement in Rodney’s voice. “Yeah, well, I like my way better.”
“And I’m sure I would have remembered if the manual mentioned tongue.”
“Are you criticizing my technique?” John raised his head and gave Rodney an affronted glare.
Rodney smiled crookedly at him. “Well, no, not criticizing exactly but I don’t believe that I have enough data to go on. I think extensive trials are in order.”
John smiled as Rodney tugged him down for another kiss. This one was slower and less desperate but just as intense as the first. John sighed as they pulled apart, tracing Rodney’s lip absently with his thumb. “So then what?”
“Then what what?”
“After the mouth-to-mouth?” John prompted.
“Ah, yes. After the resuscitation, which was quite successful, congratulations, you should check for a pulse.” Rodney’s face went taut as he finished the sentence, remembering the day before when John had been lifeless beneath his hands. He shuddered as John’s fingers slid from his cheek to his neck, carefully tracing his carotid artery.
John felt Rodney shudder and guessed that he was thinking about yesterday’s experience. He stroked the warm flesh of Rodney’s neck, enjoying the contrast between the smooth skin near his clavicle and the rougher skin pricked with stubble near his jaw. “It’s okay,” he said quietly, “I’m here, you’re here, we’re going to be fine.”
“I know. It’s just that I didn’t, I don’t…” Rodney closed his eyes in frustration. “I just spent the last year telling myself I didn’t want this and I didn’t need this. And then suddenly here you are and, you know, I had no idea.” He pinned John with an accusing stare. “I mean, you’re so far under the gaydar that I didn’t even get one ping. Not one.”
Still tracing absent patterns on Rodney’s neck, John nodded solemnly. “Secret military stealth technology.”
Rodney snorted and pinched John’s arm.
“Ow!” John put on his most charming pout. “That hurt.”
“You’ll live.” Rodney said and then looked vaguely horrified.
John moved his hand back up to Rodney’s cheek. “Yeah, I will. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
John pressed his lips to Rodney’s briefly and rose from the bed and stretched. “Well, I made a promise. I should let you get some sleep.”
“But, we’re not finished yet.” Rodney said smugly as he sat up.
“We’re not?”
“No, there’s one last step. It’s the most important one, actually. In fact, I really think it ought to be first.”
“What is it?”
Rodney tilted his head to the side and regarded him with a peculiar expression. “You have to call for help.”
John frowned a little. “Help?” he repeated blankly.
Rodney just made a little noncommittal hmming noise and continued looking at him. But John knew that Rodney wasn’t just looking at him, he was seeing him. It was frightening how easily Rodney could peel back John’s façade and reveal him.
Closing his eyes, John suddenly felt weary and too exposed. A warm hand on his shoulder forced him to open his eyes. Rodney looked at him with exasperation and pulled John into a hug. As Rodney stroked his hands up and down his back John felt some of the tension drain away, leaving him feeling as if he’d been stretched too thin for too long.
After a minute he pulled back and looked at Rodney, not bothering to hide behind the charm. “Help?” he whispered.
Rodney simply nodded. He took John’s face in his hands and kissed him thoroughly before walking them both over to the bed. He pushed John down and removed his shoes before turning off the lamp.
He sighed as Rodney lay down beside him, curling into John’s body, laying his arm possessively across John’s chest. With an odd sense of detachment, John felt himself releasing the tenuous grip on the panic that lay just beneath his exhaustion. To his surprise the tightness in his chest that had been his companion since coming to Atlantis eased, just a little.
Rodney squeezed him a little tighter. “So, not one ping. Are you sure you were gay before yesterday? Maybe the lightning did this to you.”
John laughed. “The lightning turned me gay?”
“Stranger things have happened.”
“Like the time that Kavanagh got hit by the Gay Lighting but nobody noticed?”
Rodney chuckled into John’s shoulder. “Seriously, though, the lightning didn’t actually…”
“Rodney,” John said, snuggling back firmly into the other man’s warmth, “just go to sleep.”
Show: SG: Atlantis
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Warnings: slash but nothing more explicit than smooches
Charmed
Worst Case Scenario Challenge:
Or, How I was Struck By Gay Lightning in the Pegasus Galaxy.
“Well?”
“Well what?” Rodney asked, his voice only half intelligible as he spoke around the small flashlight clenched in his teeth.
“Are you almost done here?”
Shading his eyes against the midday sun Rodney spat the flashlight out into his other hand and squinted up at John in annoyance. “You know it might go a little faster if you stopped asking every two minutes.” Dropping his hand, he fumbled around in his bag and grabbed the Ancient equivalent of an Allen wrench. “But,” he continued as he stuck his head back underneath the power station, “it just so happens that, unlike the other sixty-seven times you’ve asked since we’ve been out here, I am, in fact, finished.”
“About time.” John mumbled under his breath as he surveyed the pier, checking absently for any tools that might have rolled away.
Rodney shot a glare at the back of John’s head. “I heard that.” He tightened the casing on the power station and put the last of his tools back in the bag. “What’s the matter with you? You have a hot date or something?”
John snorted as he bent and picked up a small screw, tossing it to Rodney. “You’re the one with the big romance.”
“One date. We had one date.” Rodney examined the wayward screw, frowning. “And that was, well, the words unmitigated disaster come to mind.”
“Yeah, well, neither of us has had a lot of luck with the ladies since we came to Atlantis. Maybe it’s time we-”
Rodney flinched as a bright flash and deafening crack split the air. Instinctively, the scientist ducked and covered, huddling behind the meager protection of the power station. No more blasts followed; there was only an eerie silence and the heavy smell of ozone. Rodney cautiously lifted his head and looked skyward, relieved that there were no Wraith darts to be seen but frowning at the storm clouds that were gathering.
“Colonel?” he called, looking at the spot where John had been standing. When he realized John wasn’t there he spun around, eyes darting frantically, his voice raised in a panicked shout, “Colonel?”
Finally, he saw an unmoving figure lying in a heap near the door. Rodney rushed to John’s side and shook him tentatively. “John?” He grimaced at the stench of burnt hair that was wafting up from John’s prone body. Another bright flash suddenly lit the sky, followed by a deafening crack as lightning struck one of the spires overhead. Rodney froze momentarily, huddled protectively over John’s form, until another lightning strike broke his paralysis. He grabbed John by the armpits and dragged him backwards through the door into the corridor of Atlantis.
Tilting John’s chin up, Rodney checked for any sign of breathing; finding none, he began mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. After the fifth breath he paused and checked for a pulse. His stomach twisted in fear when there was no reassuring rhythm beneath his fingers.
Using one hand to find the proper placement for chest compressions, he keyed his radio with the other hand. “This is McKay. I’ve got a medical emergency on the south pier.”
As he began the first round of compressions Carson’s voice replied over the radio. “What’s the emergency Rodney?”
“I think Sheppard got hit by lightning. He’s not breathing and there’s no pulse.” Rodney paused to give John two more breaths.
“We’re on our way, Rodney.”
Rodney began another round of compressions and grimaced as he looked at John’s slack features. “Hurry,” he whispered.
###
Ow, John thought as he returned abruptly to consciousness. His second thought involved an overwhelming need for oxygen. John fought to take a breath but his lungs stubbornly refused cooperate. Then, suddenly, there were strong hands on his face and warm pressure around his mouth as air was gently forced into his starving lungs. His body convulsed slightly, lungs stuttering and then, finally, remembering how to breathe on their own. With a monumental effort, John opened his eyes to find a very worried set of blue eyes staring down at him.
“It’s about time,” Rodney huffed, but he looked more worried than annoyed. John opened his mouth to say so but as he touched his tongue to his lips the fact that he could taste Rodney there distracted him. He let his eyes slide shut again as he recalled the sensation of Rodney’s mouth on his own. As he drifted back into unconsciousness, he was acutely aware of Rodney’s thumb stroking small circles on his neck and murmuring threats in a low voice that sounded oddly reassuring.
###
Rodney groaned in frustration at the knock on his door. It had been a really long day and compounded with the previous day, which had included the near death of Colonel Sheppard, all Rodney wanted right now was a decent night’s sleep.
“Unless something is about to explode, go away.” Rodney hollered at the closed door.
Rodney’s eyes flew open as his door slid open to reveal John standing in his doorway. “And they say you’re not a people person.”
Rodney sat up and blinked slowly at John who was looking annoyingly healthy for someone who had technically died less than thirty-six hours ago. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”
John shrugged and stepped into Rodney’s room, the door sliding shut behind him. “Shouldn’t you?”
Glaring at him, Rodney replied testily, “I was.”
“Most people don’t sleep fully clothed.”
“Yes, well, I expect most people don’t get called out of bed at all hours of the night to save everyone they know from imminent death by exploding Ancient devices, failing shields, attacking space vampires or killer goldfish.”
“Killer goldfish?”
Rodney sighed and scooted back on the bed, resting his back against the wall. “It’s only a matter of time, don’t you think?”
John just nodded, smiling indulgently.
Rodney frowned. “What? What’s with that look?”
“What look?”
“That one. That look on your face right now that you’re trying hard to cover with your ‘Rodney, it’s just your imagination, there’s no such thing as killer goldfish’ look. And failing miserably, I might add.”
John couldn’t seem to stop his goofy smile and the more Rodney ranted, the worse it got. John closed his eyes briefly. God help him, he found Rodney’s babbling endearing - he was screwed.
When he opened his eyes, there was an anxious Canadian in his face. “Are you okay? Should I call Carson?”
“No, I mean yes. Yes, I’m fine, no you don’t need to call Carson.” John took a step backwards and leaned against Rodney’s desk. “I just wanted to talk to you,” he said nonchalantly.
Rodney folded his arms over his chest and regarded him with suspicion.
John winced a little as “nonchalant” fell flat on its face and ran off to sulk leaving him with his old standby “charm”. He could do charm. Hell, he practically oozed charm. The problem was that he suspected Rodney was impervious to his charm, which would only leave him with honesty.
He looked at Rodney, who was beginning to frown again. Well, what the hell, maybe charmingly honest would work with Rodney. It’s not like he had a lot to lose… except pretty much everything.
Rodney opened his mouth; probably to ask John if he was okay again but John cut him off. “So, Carson says you were pretty smooth yesterday.”
“I… what?” Rodney looked confused.
“You handled everything really well, you know, the saving my life and all. Have I thanked you for that, by the way?”
“Well, no, but it’s not like-” Rodney shook his head briefly, his lips pressed together in a tight line. “Just try not to make a habit of it.”
“Getting struck by lightning?”
“Dying.” Rodney shot back in a flat tone.
John nodded slowly, holding his friend’s gaze. “I’ll do my best.” That was the most he could promise and Rodney knew that. John felt a tingle run through him as he noted the fear beneath Rodney’s façade of annoyance. Unthinkingly, he ran his tongue along his bottom lip as if he could still taste Rodney there. He had, actually, for hours yesterday in the infirmary.
It was odd, he couldn’t remember the two hours prior to the incident but he remembered the feel of Rodney’s mouth on his with crystal clarity. And with that one brief touch, all of John’s dutifully constructed walls of repression and denial had evaporated. His brain and his body kept coming back to that moment, the moment when everything clicked into place. John considered his next approach carefully and hoped he wasn’t fucking things up.
“Carson said you handled it with, and I quote, ‘textbook perfection.’” John smiled charmingly. “How did you know what to do?”
“Boy Scout camp.”
John’s mouth fell open in surprise. “You were a Boy Scout?”
Rodney rolled his eyes. “No, it was my father’s idea. In order to get permission to go to Space Camp I had to also do a week of Boy Scout camp. I spent the entire week in the infirmary after falling into a patch of stinging nettles on our first hike.”
John winced in sympathy as Rodney continued. “Anyway, I was bored out of my mind and there was nothing to read except the Boy Scout handbook. So I memorized it.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
Rodney shrugged. “Anyhow, there was a section on lightning strikes, you know it’s appalling how many Scouts are killed each year by lightning.”
John nodded. “Apparently they didn’t read the handbook.”
“Yes, well, apparently not. So was there something else or did you come here to have me relive painful memories of my youth for your own personal bedtime story?”
John ignored the bitching and concentrated on the way Rodney’s eyes were beginning to dart nervously around the room. “I was thinking,” John said as he casually leaned into Rodney’s personal space, “it might be useful to know how to treat a lightning strike victim. We are sitting on a vast amount of water, here.”
Rodney’s mouth quirked down but he didn’t pull back. “You want me to teach a class? Isn’t that more Carson’s area?”
“I was thinking that maybe you could go over the basics,” John said. When Rodney simply raised an eyebrow at him, he clarified. “With me.”
“With you?”
John nodded. “With me.”
“Now?”
“Now is good.”
Rodney took a step back and ran a hand over his face. “And when I’m done you’ll go to bed and leave me alone to get some sleep?”
“When you’re done I’ll go to bed.” John answered carefully.
Rodney gave him a calculated stare but John just smiled at him, charmingly.
“Fine.” Rodney took a deep breath and blew it out. “First,” he recited in a sing-song voice, “move the victim to a-- what are you doing?”
John blinked at him innocently. “Role-playing.”
Rodney looked down at John’s hands wrapped around his biceps and swallowed nervously. “Role-playing?”
John nodded seriously. “It’s the best way to learn a new technique.” He squeezed Rodney’s arms lightly. “You were saying? Move the victim?”
“Uh, yes, move the victim to a safe location…” Rodney’s voice trailed off as John gently pushed him backwards and down onto the bed. “Er, seriously, what are you doing?”
“Moving you to a safe location. The bed is pretty safe, wouldn’t you say?” John asked lightly as he sat next to Rodney and pushed him into a reclining position.
“Yes, but it’s not as if-”
“Rodney.”
“What?”
“Trust me.”
Rodney opened his mouth and then shut it quickly, his lips pressed into a thin line again. His eyes closed for a brief moment and when he opened them, John felt like he could see the resolve in them. When Rodney spoke again, his voice was soft. “Don’t be afraid to touch the victim.”
John nodded, his mouth suddenly dry as he ran his hands down Rodney’s arms, then back up to his shoulders. He let one hand cup the back of Rodney’s neck and his thumb began to trace small circles on Rodney’s neck, unconsciously mimicking what Rodney had done for him the day before.
Rodney’s eyes fluttered closed as a quiet sound of contentment escaped his lips. To cover it up, he cleared his throat and instructed, “Check to see if the victim is breathing.”
John leaned forward, absurdly thankful that Rodney’s eyes were still closed. He stopped just as their noses met and turned his cheek, feeling Rodney’s warm breath spill over his skin. For a long moment he simply breathed with Rodney, allowing their rhythms to match, letting the other man’s breath thaw the places in him that he hadn’t even realized were frozen until this very moment.
John waited for Rodney to continue his instructions but when the other man didn’t say anything he prompted him. “And?”
“And?”
“If the victim isn’t breathing?”
Rodney’s breath sighed across John’s cheek. “If the victim isn’t breathing… you should begin mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.”
Lifting his head, John noticed that Rodney’s eyes were open again and regarding him with equal parts longing and trepidation. Carefully, John lowered his mouth to Rodney’s in a fairly chaste kiss that the other man could choose to misinterpret if he desired. Apparently that wasn’t what Rodney desired because he made that little sound again, a needy sort of whimper that made John shiver.
Rodney’s lips parted under his and John allowed his tongue to dart out and lick Rodney’s lower lip. They both moaned at the contact and suddenly they were kissing desperately, John’s hands cradled Rodney’s face and Rodney’s hands gripped John’s biceps with an almost painful intensity.
When they broke apart to breathe John rested his forehead against Rodney’s, their noses bumping against each other as they panted for air. He felt a peculiar huff of breath that was almost a laugh ghost across his face and his stomach clenched with uncertainty. “What?”
“Give one breath every five seconds.”
“What?”
“The instructions are to give one breath every five seconds, not prevent the victim from breathing for several minutes,” Rodney clarified.
John relaxed as he heard the amusement in Rodney’s voice. “Yeah, well, I like my way better.”
“And I’m sure I would have remembered if the manual mentioned tongue.”
“Are you criticizing my technique?” John raised his head and gave Rodney an affronted glare.
Rodney smiled crookedly at him. “Well, no, not criticizing exactly but I don’t believe that I have enough data to go on. I think extensive trials are in order.”
John smiled as Rodney tugged him down for another kiss. This one was slower and less desperate but just as intense as the first. John sighed as they pulled apart, tracing Rodney’s lip absently with his thumb. “So then what?”
“Then what what?”
“After the mouth-to-mouth?” John prompted.
“Ah, yes. After the resuscitation, which was quite successful, congratulations, you should check for a pulse.” Rodney’s face went taut as he finished the sentence, remembering the day before when John had been lifeless beneath his hands. He shuddered as John’s fingers slid from his cheek to his neck, carefully tracing his carotid artery.
John felt Rodney shudder and guessed that he was thinking about yesterday’s experience. He stroked the warm flesh of Rodney’s neck, enjoying the contrast between the smooth skin near his clavicle and the rougher skin pricked with stubble near his jaw. “It’s okay,” he said quietly, “I’m here, you’re here, we’re going to be fine.”
“I know. It’s just that I didn’t, I don’t…” Rodney closed his eyes in frustration. “I just spent the last year telling myself I didn’t want this and I didn’t need this. And then suddenly here you are and, you know, I had no idea.” He pinned John with an accusing stare. “I mean, you’re so far under the gaydar that I didn’t even get one ping. Not one.”
Still tracing absent patterns on Rodney’s neck, John nodded solemnly. “Secret military stealth technology.”
Rodney snorted and pinched John’s arm.
“Ow!” John put on his most charming pout. “That hurt.”
“You’ll live.” Rodney said and then looked vaguely horrified.
John moved his hand back up to Rodney’s cheek. “Yeah, I will. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
John pressed his lips to Rodney’s briefly and rose from the bed and stretched. “Well, I made a promise. I should let you get some sleep.”
“But, we’re not finished yet.” Rodney said smugly as he sat up.
“We’re not?”
“No, there’s one last step. It’s the most important one, actually. In fact, I really think it ought to be first.”
“What is it?”
Rodney tilted his head to the side and regarded him with a peculiar expression. “You have to call for help.”
John frowned a little. “Help?” he repeated blankly.
Rodney just made a little noncommittal hmming noise and continued looking at him. But John knew that Rodney wasn’t just looking at him, he was seeing him. It was frightening how easily Rodney could peel back John’s façade and reveal him.
Closing his eyes, John suddenly felt weary and too exposed. A warm hand on his shoulder forced him to open his eyes. Rodney looked at him with exasperation and pulled John into a hug. As Rodney stroked his hands up and down his back John felt some of the tension drain away, leaving him feeling as if he’d been stretched too thin for too long.
After a minute he pulled back and looked at Rodney, not bothering to hide behind the charm. “Help?” he whispered.
Rodney simply nodded. He took John’s face in his hands and kissed him thoroughly before walking them both over to the bed. He pushed John down and removed his shoes before turning off the lamp.
He sighed as Rodney lay down beside him, curling into John’s body, laying his arm possessively across John’s chest. With an odd sense of detachment, John felt himself releasing the tenuous grip on the panic that lay just beneath his exhaustion. To his surprise the tightness in his chest that had been his companion since coming to Atlantis eased, just a little.
Rodney squeezed him a little tighter. “So, not one ping. Are you sure you were gay before yesterday? Maybe the lightning did this to you.”
John laughed. “The lightning turned me gay?”
“Stranger things have happened.”
“Like the time that Kavanagh got hit by the Gay Lighting but nobody noticed?”
Rodney chuckled into John’s shoulder. “Seriously, though, the lightning didn’t actually…”
“Rodney,” John said, snuggling back firmly into the other man’s warmth, “just go to sleep.”