Fic: Seconds (I use prompts for titles as a statement. Really...)
Title: Seconds
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Pairing/Characters: Lorne/Zelenka, pre-slash
Rating: PG
Notes: This was going to lead up to porn, and then it didn't. Inspired by the Porn Battle VIII prompt of the same name
Their time is not their own. Evan's not given to self-pity, and he's pretty sure that he and Zelenka have picked up more than their fair share of the time sinks. He doesn't mind as much as he might've.
They spend a lot of time together, for people who have nothing in common. Mostly in meetings, but since it feels like he spends his entire life on meetings, paperwork, and life-threatening situations, Evan isn't really in a position to be choosy for when he gets to talk to people. But they're not even his meetings.
Sheppard doesn't bother with excuses, he just pulls rank and tells Lorne to go. For his part, McKay probably wastes more time explaining why he shouldn't be bothered with the minutiae of management than he would spend in the actual meetings that management requires. When Sheppard does feel like explaining, he says that he spends enough time having to corral Rodney in the field; he shouldn't have to do it on Atlantis, too. Lorne doesn't point out that Rodney rarely attends the meetings anymore.
He and Zelenka get twice the work done in half the time, and spend the rest of it making up elaborate stories to justify what each side had to give up in the "negotiations." Evan spends more time than he ought to staring at Zelenka's hands.
The first time he'd realized it, why Radek's fluttering and utter inability to remain still under pressure called to him, it'd been all he could do to keep the guard-dog stoicism on his face. When he'd stood and watched Radek freak out enough for the both of them until there was yet another miraculous solution, it had been all he could do to not kiss Radek in gratitude. And then, a week or two or more later - the days blurred together, but he was sure it was two crises after that first test - he realized that he wanted to kiss Radek in something other than gratitude.
His careful study had revealed bits that Evan hadn't expected to find: that the babbling wasn't an explosion, but a valve letting off pressure that let Radek hold himself just below boiling; that he had a solid quiet core that balanced out McKay's fractures and eruptions. Suddenly, Evan had found himself wanting to make Radek boil over, to shiver and shatter, and at the most inappropriate times.
Their time is most definitely not their own when they are the ones left behind, when Atlantis's senior leadership disappears yet again. Teyla's left with them more often than not, now, but she exudes a calm that Major Lorne only pretends to feel, and Evan can spend only so long in her company before he starts to feel guilty about his lack of faith. The only kind of faith he knows how to have is built on decades, centuries even, of military procedure that have only a passing acquaintence with John Sheppard's tactics, and his hope is still a fledgling thing. Radek is a better echo of his whirling mind, and when the situation permits, Evan seeks him out. He starts thinking about crossing the line from friends and colleagues to more when it's the absolute last thing they should be doing, when they whole expedition is in a fit of worry, and, ironically, impotence.
Radek's waiting for scenarios to run and Evan is waiting for news, any news, from anyone, so he finds himself down in the labs because Chuck kept trying to reassure him as he'd paced in the 'gate room. He holds his body still with an effort, just tapping his toe silently inside his boot in time to the flash of a cursor. He's also surreptitiously watching Radek's reflection in the screen. He can tell that Radek's either trying to work, or trying to look like he's working, so that they both aren't just standing there waiting. The near-silence between them, underlain with the whir of fans and a thrum of machinery, is almost comforting.
"You know that I will-" Radek starts, awkwardly, and it reminds Evan that he is technically in charge, and so he may technically be the impatient boss, hovering, rather than the worried friend, waiting, and he turns to leave with a faint smile.
"Yes, of course. Uh, thanks," he says, hoping that the echo of the corridor hides the uncertainty in his tone as he's already halfway out the door to find a new hiding place.
There's a clatter that might be a rolling chair hitting a table, and a muttered phrase in a language he still doesn't speak, and then Radek grabs his arm and pulls him back into the room. "Major," he says, and a second later his hand is warm and damp on Evan's wrist, a gentle restraint and a contact that makes his heartbeat surge with a different fear, and one he definitely doesn't have time to indulge. "You are welcome," he says, and Evan blinks, trying to remember whether he'd said thank you for something. "Here. You are welcome, here. To stay, while we wait." Radek pauses, and Evan doesn't shift nervously, but he wants to. Then Radek blinks, and something shifts in his eyes from comforting to beseeching, and he says, "Please. Stay," and tugs on Evan's wrist the slightest bit before releasing it when he goes to respond to a chirp from one of the simulations
That's as far as it goes, of course, because they're in the middle of a crisis, in the middle of the labs, in the middle of the day, and Evan is not an idiot. But when he can spare a few moments to get lost in thought, he replays the moments, and he plans.
When they get everyone back, with all of their pieces still attached, if a bit the worse for wear, Sheppard starts to apologize, and make excuses about the responsibility that's been dumped on Evan during his recovery. Because John Sheppard is Superman, apparently, and thinks he should be able to oversee everything while he's got lacerations over 60% of his body.
Because Evan is still not an idiot, he tells Sheppard not to be one either, but his smile is more genuine when he says not to worry about the meetings. "It's fine, sir," he says. "No trouble at all."
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Pairing/Characters: Lorne/Zelenka, pre-slash
Rating: PG
Notes: This was going to lead up to porn, and then it didn't. Inspired by the Porn Battle VIII prompt of the same name
Their time is not their own. Evan's not given to self-pity, and he's pretty sure that he and Zelenka have picked up more than their fair share of the time sinks. He doesn't mind as much as he might've.
They spend a lot of time together, for people who have nothing in common. Mostly in meetings, but since it feels like he spends his entire life on meetings, paperwork, and life-threatening situations, Evan isn't really in a position to be choosy for when he gets to talk to people. But they're not even his meetings.
Sheppard doesn't bother with excuses, he just pulls rank and tells Lorne to go. For his part, McKay probably wastes more time explaining why he shouldn't be bothered with the minutiae of management than he would spend in the actual meetings that management requires. When Sheppard does feel like explaining, he says that he spends enough time having to corral Rodney in the field; he shouldn't have to do it on Atlantis, too. Lorne doesn't point out that Rodney rarely attends the meetings anymore.
He and Zelenka get twice the work done in half the time, and spend the rest of it making up elaborate stories to justify what each side had to give up in the "negotiations." Evan spends more time than he ought to staring at Zelenka's hands.
The first time he'd realized it, why Radek's fluttering and utter inability to remain still under pressure called to him, it'd been all he could do to keep the guard-dog stoicism on his face. When he'd stood and watched Radek freak out enough for the both of them until there was yet another miraculous solution, it had been all he could do to not kiss Radek in gratitude. And then, a week or two or more later - the days blurred together, but he was sure it was two crises after that first test - he realized that he wanted to kiss Radek in something other than gratitude.
His careful study had revealed bits that Evan hadn't expected to find: that the babbling wasn't an explosion, but a valve letting off pressure that let Radek hold himself just below boiling; that he had a solid quiet core that balanced out McKay's fractures and eruptions. Suddenly, Evan had found himself wanting to make Radek boil over, to shiver and shatter, and at the most inappropriate times.
Their time is most definitely not their own when they are the ones left behind, when Atlantis's senior leadership disappears yet again. Teyla's left with them more often than not, now, but she exudes a calm that Major Lorne only pretends to feel, and Evan can spend only so long in her company before he starts to feel guilty about his lack of faith. The only kind of faith he knows how to have is built on decades, centuries even, of military procedure that have only a passing acquaintence with John Sheppard's tactics, and his hope is still a fledgling thing. Radek is a better echo of his whirling mind, and when the situation permits, Evan seeks him out. He starts thinking about crossing the line from friends and colleagues to more when it's the absolute last thing they should be doing, when they whole expedition is in a fit of worry, and, ironically, impotence.
Radek's waiting for scenarios to run and Evan is waiting for news, any news, from anyone, so he finds himself down in the labs because Chuck kept trying to reassure him as he'd paced in the 'gate room. He holds his body still with an effort, just tapping his toe silently inside his boot in time to the flash of a cursor. He's also surreptitiously watching Radek's reflection in the screen. He can tell that Radek's either trying to work, or trying to look like he's working, so that they both aren't just standing there waiting. The near-silence between them, underlain with the whir of fans and a thrum of machinery, is almost comforting.
"You know that I will-" Radek starts, awkwardly, and it reminds Evan that he is technically in charge, and so he may technically be the impatient boss, hovering, rather than the worried friend, waiting, and he turns to leave with a faint smile.
"Yes, of course. Uh, thanks," he says, hoping that the echo of the corridor hides the uncertainty in his tone as he's already halfway out the door to find a new hiding place.
There's a clatter that might be a rolling chair hitting a table, and a muttered phrase in a language he still doesn't speak, and then Radek grabs his arm and pulls him back into the room. "Major," he says, and a second later his hand is warm and damp on Evan's wrist, a gentle restraint and a contact that makes his heartbeat surge with a different fear, and one he definitely doesn't have time to indulge. "You are welcome," he says, and Evan blinks, trying to remember whether he'd said thank you for something. "Here. You are welcome, here. To stay, while we wait." Radek pauses, and Evan doesn't shift nervously, but he wants to. Then Radek blinks, and something shifts in his eyes from comforting to beseeching, and he says, "Please. Stay," and tugs on Evan's wrist the slightest bit before releasing it when he goes to respond to a chirp from one of the simulations
That's as far as it goes, of course, because they're in the middle of a crisis, in the middle of the labs, in the middle of the day, and Evan is not an idiot. But when he can spare a few moments to get lost in thought, he replays the moments, and he plans.
When they get everyone back, with all of their pieces still attached, if a bit the worse for wear, Sheppard starts to apologize, and make excuses about the responsibility that's been dumped on Evan during his recovery. Because John Sheppard is Superman, apparently, and thinks he should be able to oversee everything while he's got lacerations over 60% of his body.
Because Evan is still not an idiot, he tells Sheppard not to be one either, but his smile is more genuine when he says not to worry about the meetings. "It's fine, sir," he says. "No trouble at all."