Fic: SGA: Comfort, Checkmate 'verse
Title: Comfort
Series: Checkmate 'Verse
(God, I didn't know where to put the banner on this one, since it's so short.)
Author: Beadattitude
Pairing: McShep, currently pre-slash
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Animal transformation, angst
Disclaimer: I am playing, happily, with these characters for the love of it, which I do for free.
This is part of a larger story arc set the week before John's return to human form. You may consider it spoilery or heavy foreshadowing. Proceed at own risk.
Now that more of the story has revealed itself, please read the preceding Conflicted
For ladycat777, itsychick, lenkti, with thanks and great affection.
~~~
John woke to find the bed empty. Rodney?
There was a breeze coming in from the balcony, so John hopped off the bed and padded over to the open door.
Rodney was sprawled tightly in his chair, feet on another, obviously having come out here to think or brood. Away from him.
They were both nervous about his return to his regular body some time in the next week, (Would he remember? How much?) undercurrents starting to churn around them, get choppy, dangerous, anticipatory, awkward, weird. It was weird, no denying. Still, John's heart dropped to think that Rodney felt like he needed to get away from him in his own quarters.
John debated on whether to wake him, worried about which was worse, a sore back tomorrow or discovery now? Rodney shifted slightly, grumbling in his sleep, his face tilting slightly toward the waning moon. His mouth was pulled down in a tight, unhappy corner even in sleep.
Standing on his hind legs and peering up at him, John tried to puzzle out what to do, worried that Rodney would rebuff any sympathy. He froze.
Seconds later, he leapt as lightly as he could onto Rodney's lap and draped himself across Rodney's (crossed, keep-out) arms. He sniffed delicately at his face. Salt, and not from the sea.
Lightly, so gently it was barely even a touch, John licked a drying tear from Rodney's cheek, wishing with all his heart for hands and lips and arms to hold and comfort. He settled, cheek pressed against cheek, as close as he could, his paws around Rodney's neck in the best he could offer of himself.
Underneath him, Rodney sighed, breath shaky. One hand stole around his neck, fingers gentle, sweeping down his back in a slow, meditative caress. John rubbed his face against Rodney's.
Rodney leaned into it. "John," he whispered like it hurt to talk.
John curled closer and purred, trying to tell him. Tell him everything.
~~~
Conviction
~~~
Series: Checkmate 'Verse
(God, I didn't know where to put the banner on this one, since it's so short.)
Author: Beadattitude
Pairing: McShep, currently pre-slash
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Animal transformation, angst
Disclaimer: I am playing, happily, with these characters for the love of it, which I do for free.
This is part of a larger story arc set the week before John's return to human form. You may consider it spoilery or heavy foreshadowing. Proceed at own risk.
Now that more of the story has revealed itself, please read the preceding Conflicted
For ladycat777, itsychick, lenkti, with thanks and great affection.
~~~
John woke to find the bed empty. Rodney?
There was a breeze coming in from the balcony, so John hopped off the bed and padded over to the open door.
Rodney was sprawled tightly in his chair, feet on another, obviously having come out here to think or brood. Away from him.
They were both nervous about his return to his regular body some time in the next week, (Would he remember? How much?) undercurrents starting to churn around them, get choppy, dangerous, anticipatory, awkward, weird. It was weird, no denying. Still, John's heart dropped to think that Rodney felt like he needed to get away from him in his own quarters.
John debated on whether to wake him, worried about which was worse, a sore back tomorrow or discovery now? Rodney shifted slightly, grumbling in his sleep, his face tilting slightly toward the waning moon. His mouth was pulled down in a tight, unhappy corner even in sleep.
Standing on his hind legs and peering up at him, John tried to puzzle out what to do, worried that Rodney would rebuff any sympathy. He froze.
Seconds later, he leapt as lightly as he could onto Rodney's lap and draped himself across Rodney's (crossed, keep-out) arms. He sniffed delicately at his face. Salt, and not from the sea.
Lightly, so gently it was barely even a touch, John licked a drying tear from Rodney's cheek, wishing with all his heart for hands and lips and arms to hold and comfort. He settled, cheek pressed against cheek, as close as he could, his paws around Rodney's neck in the best he could offer of himself.
Underneath him, Rodney sighed, breath shaky. One hand stole around his neck, fingers gentle, sweeping down his back in a slow, meditative caress. John rubbed his face against Rodney's.
Rodney leaned into it. "John," he whispered like it hurt to talk.
John curled closer and purred, trying to tell him. Tell him everything.
~~~
Conviction
~~~