Thumbling Down (John/Rodney, PG-13)
Title: Thumbling Down
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~1,700
Warnings: None.
Notes: For cupidsbow, who was about one email away from snapping (and that probably would have been mine, so thanks for the warning! :D). And yes, this is totally somewhat the ending of Thumbelina (I'm too lazy to do the whole thing, sorry!) and therefore could be considered crack. Emo crack. Plus it's not been beta-read. Uh. Sorry?
ETA: Look at unaccompanied_g's artwork!
~~~
Sometimes, life doesn't exactly go as you planned it.
This might be because you're smarter than most, or smaller than most, or because someone decides you're Not Doing It Right and starts to interfere. Sometimes you just don't want to marry the frog princess, or the king of the bugs, or the mole warrior, or whoever proposes to you next. And sometimes you meet the fairy prince and fall in love only to have him die and leave you behind.
Sometimes, life gives you lemons and you're allergic to lemonade.
~~~
There was still snow on the ground when they finally, finally made it out of the Molii's giant underground bunker. It seemed unreal somehow - Rodney felt like he'd spent an eternity down there, but the first snowdrops were only just starting to bloom so it couldn't have been more than three weeks. Four at the outmost. The sun was still standing high, turning the planes of snow into a billion tiny reflections that made Rodney's eyes hurt after the dimness of the tunnels.
He shivered when Radek set them both down on a nearby branch and moved away from him. The bark was wet and cold and he hadn't exactly had the time to change into his outdoor clothes before running away. He had quite literally stumbled over Radek when he'd been exploring the Molii corridors looking for a way out, and hadn't been about to let the pigeon out of his sight again. Radek was a good enough guy, but he tended to get distracted. Rodney couldn't afford getting distracted; not when his freedom was on the line.
Damn stupid Jeannie and her stupid obsession with getting him married, anyway. Just because she was a "fully-grown" human and Rodney was barely tall enough to peer over the rim of a glass she thought she could make his decisions for him! First Katie-the-frog-princess-with-the-green-thumb, then Michael-the-irate-bug, then Molya-the-half-blind-underground-dweller. As if Rodney was going to spend his life suffering from the severe lack of vitamin D that insufficient natural light could cause! And anyway, Molya had only wanted him for his brain. Rodney didn't want to be wanted only for his brain. He wanted to be wanted for… for his heart, and damn Czech pigeons who put such ridiculous notions of romance in his head, too.
"This is all your fault," he hissed, and Radek had the grace to look vaguely guilty.
"We could try the fairies again, yes? At least get you some clothes against the cold."
"No." Rodney didn't want to go see the fairies. They had been somewhat fascinating at first, with their wings and their flying city that was sometimes invisible, but now they'd only remind him of even stupider notions of romance, and… no. He didn't want to think about that. "And it's still winter; they're sleeping."
Except for one of them. The one who'd been too sweetly stubborn to sleep away the winter when Rodney was in trouble, and look where it had got him.
Radek hesitated, shuffling from foot to foot before he asked, "Do you want to go look for John? I know you said he was-"
"No!" Rodney did not want to go look for John, because what if they found him? It had been weeks since that glow bug China or Cheetah or whatever had told him that John had… and yes, winter and ice and preservation and all that stuff, but… what if Rodney would have to look at… at… He swallowed, refusing to think about it, except Radek just wouldn't quit.
"But-"
"He's dead!" Rodney exploded, grief and anger finally breaking free. "He had to be all heroic and he fell into the water and he froze and he's dead, you stupid bird, so would you just shut the fuck up about it?!"
He didn't want to think about it, wouldn't be able to stand seeing that: the tanned skin far too pale, the sleek wings limp and still. There'd be no smirk, no quip, no shoulder bumping against his own, and Rodney pressed his lips together and blinked furiously, trying to ban the image from his mind.
"Rodney…" Radek's voice was sympathetic as the pigeon took a step closer, probably to be ineptly comforting.
"Leave me alone!" Rodney jerked back. His foot slipped on the wet bark and he let out a startled shout as he lost his balance… and fell.
"Rodney!" The rustle of Radek's wings, and such a sweet thought to try and save him, but Rodney would hit the ground well before Radek could reach him, and he was weirdly okay with that, something poetic about dying from falling out of a tree after being trapped underground for weeks, and he'd be dead in less than a second, and-
"Whoa!"
-and the impact was a lot softer than he'd anticipated. Rodney struggled to sit up, untangling his limbs from the ones of the person who had caught him mid-air just in time, before they'd hit the ground together. He felt… wildly alive, with his heart racing, and yet strangely cheated.
"Hey, you okay?" a concerned voice wanted to know, and Rodney froze, not even breathing. He knew that voice. He knew that voice, but it was impossible that he was hearing it now because its owner was dead, and dear Lord, he'd fallen right on his head, hadn't he? This was some last hallucination of his dying brain, tormenting him with the one thing he wanted and could never-
"Hey, Earth to Rodney. You okay?"
Slowly, so slowly, Rodney turned his head. Dimly, he heard Radek curring somewhere to his left, but he didn't care. Didn't care at all. His breath hitched as he finally inhaled.
"Rodney?" John's expression was full of worry. He was looking at Rodney like he (Rodney, not John) might snap any second, and that probably wasn't too far off the truth.
"You're…" Rodney reached up with shaking hands and started patting any part of John he could reach; his cheeks; his hair; his chest; his shoulders; the soft ridges of his dark butterfly wings. Looking for injuries. Looking for affirmation. "I thought you were… You're not dead."
John's face did that softening thing, the one that meant he thought Rodney was being kind of adorable. "No," he agreed, smiling slightly as he caught Rodney's hands in his own. The smile grew when he looked at Rodney's fingers. "You're not married."
"No." Rodney's heart was pounding so hard he thought it might slam its way right out of his chest and into John's, which would be singularly gross… and also kind of neat. He could feel his cheeks grow hot when the seconds ticked by and John didn't let go of his hands, and John's ears were turning a darker shade of pink, but he held on, thumb brushing over Rodney's knuckles.
"Good," John said hoarsely, and then they just sat there, staring at each other with lovesick smiles till Radek mused loudly that sane people probably would have kissed already. John ducked his head as Rodney's fingers tightened, not looking up but still smiling as Rodney tugged him closer. Their noses bumped and they both snorted, then John pulled his hands from Rodney's to clasp Rodney's face and tilt his head to a slightly different angle.
And then they were kissing. Slowly at first, growing bolder then, until there was nothing in Rodney's world but the softness of John's lips, the warmth of John's breath, the closeness of John's body. John's hair was silky-cool between his fingers, the very tips of his wings brushing against Rodney's other hand where it rested in the small of John's back. John's hands were warm and dry against his cheeks, and they kissed and kissed and would have gone on kissing except someone cleared their throat. Loudly.
John's hands slipped from Rodney's face to his shoulders as they both turned toward the noise. Rodney gaped at the two fairies watching them with amused smile. Weren't they supposed to be sleeping?
"John," the woman said warmly, her auburn hair glinting in the sun. "We rose early to come to your aid, but it would seem you are not in need of our assistance."
The tall, bearded man wasn't as eloquent. "Thought you were getting yourself a girl."
"No," John replied, fingers tightening on Rodney's shoulders, "not a girl."
"Pity." The man shrugged. "A bride would have gotten her own wings."
Rodney blinked, but before he could ask, John's hand on his cheek turned his face away from the newcomers. John was smiling shyly, and Rodney's heart resumed its pounding like it had never calmed down.
"That's okay," John said, thumb brushing across Rodney's cheekbone. "He can share mine."
It was such a stupid thing to say, yet Rodney found himself blinking fast and smiling a decidedly wobbly smile that made John's expression do that softening thing again. And it was so easy to tilt his head up and give John another kiss, and another, and this time there were no interruptions until they stopped on their own.
~~~
The End.
~~~
Except of course Rodney got his own wings after all, though he never quite learned to fly in a straight line and generally preferred to walk or let Radek do the flying for him.
The frog princess married a dryad, the irate bug tried to take over the world but got derailed when his army started a union, and the mole warrior eventually settled down with a field mouse and they and their children lived all in a brotherhood of farmers.
John never stopped being idiotically heroic, but Rodney enlisted the help of Ronon and Teyla, the two fairies who'd come find him, and together they made sure that no self-sacrifices were being made and everyone stayed safe. And if John called Rodney an overprotective mother hen and Rodney invited him - loudly and with a lot of choice words - to discuss that matter more privately, well. There were a lot of places in the flying city where one could pretend not to hear them.
~~~
And they lived happily ever after. Really.
~~~
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~1,700
Warnings: None.
Notes: For cupidsbow, who was about one email away from snapping (and that probably would have been mine, so thanks for the warning! :D). And yes, this is totally somewhat the ending of Thumbelina (I'm too lazy to do the whole thing, sorry!) and therefore could be considered crack. Emo crack. Plus it's not been beta-read. Uh. Sorry?
ETA: Look at unaccompanied_g's artwork!
~~~
Sometimes, life doesn't exactly go as you planned it.
This might be because you're smarter than most, or smaller than most, or because someone decides you're Not Doing It Right and starts to interfere. Sometimes you just don't want to marry the frog princess, or the king of the bugs, or the mole warrior, or whoever proposes to you next. And sometimes you meet the fairy prince and fall in love only to have him die and leave you behind.
Sometimes, life gives you lemons and you're allergic to lemonade.
~~~
There was still snow on the ground when they finally, finally made it out of the Molii's giant underground bunker. It seemed unreal somehow - Rodney felt like he'd spent an eternity down there, but the first snowdrops were only just starting to bloom so it couldn't have been more than three weeks. Four at the outmost. The sun was still standing high, turning the planes of snow into a billion tiny reflections that made Rodney's eyes hurt after the dimness of the tunnels.
He shivered when Radek set them both down on a nearby branch and moved away from him. The bark was wet and cold and he hadn't exactly had the time to change into his outdoor clothes before running away. He had quite literally stumbled over Radek when he'd been exploring the Molii corridors looking for a way out, and hadn't been about to let the pigeon out of his sight again. Radek was a good enough guy, but he tended to get distracted. Rodney couldn't afford getting distracted; not when his freedom was on the line.
Damn stupid Jeannie and her stupid obsession with getting him married, anyway. Just because she was a "fully-grown" human and Rodney was barely tall enough to peer over the rim of a glass she thought she could make his decisions for him! First Katie-the-frog-princess-with-the-green-thumb, then Michael-the-irate-bug, then Molya-the-half-blind-underground-dweller. As if Rodney was going to spend his life suffering from the severe lack of vitamin D that insufficient natural light could cause! And anyway, Molya had only wanted him for his brain. Rodney didn't want to be wanted only for his brain. He wanted to be wanted for… for his heart, and damn Czech pigeons who put such ridiculous notions of romance in his head, too.
"This is all your fault," he hissed, and Radek had the grace to look vaguely guilty.
"We could try the fairies again, yes? At least get you some clothes against the cold."
"No." Rodney didn't want to go see the fairies. They had been somewhat fascinating at first, with their wings and their flying city that was sometimes invisible, but now they'd only remind him of even stupider notions of romance, and… no. He didn't want to think about that. "And it's still winter; they're sleeping."
Except for one of them. The one who'd been too sweetly stubborn to sleep away the winter when Rodney was in trouble, and look where it had got him.
Radek hesitated, shuffling from foot to foot before he asked, "Do you want to go look for John? I know you said he was-"
"No!" Rodney did not want to go look for John, because what if they found him? It had been weeks since that glow bug China or Cheetah or whatever had told him that John had… and yes, winter and ice and preservation and all that stuff, but… what if Rodney would have to look at… at… He swallowed, refusing to think about it, except Radek just wouldn't quit.
"But-"
"He's dead!" Rodney exploded, grief and anger finally breaking free. "He had to be all heroic and he fell into the water and he froze and he's dead, you stupid bird, so would you just shut the fuck up about it?!"
He didn't want to think about it, wouldn't be able to stand seeing that: the tanned skin far too pale, the sleek wings limp and still. There'd be no smirk, no quip, no shoulder bumping against his own, and Rodney pressed his lips together and blinked furiously, trying to ban the image from his mind.
"Rodney…" Radek's voice was sympathetic as the pigeon took a step closer, probably to be ineptly comforting.
"Leave me alone!" Rodney jerked back. His foot slipped on the wet bark and he let out a startled shout as he lost his balance… and fell.
"Rodney!" The rustle of Radek's wings, and such a sweet thought to try and save him, but Rodney would hit the ground well before Radek could reach him, and he was weirdly okay with that, something poetic about dying from falling out of a tree after being trapped underground for weeks, and he'd be dead in less than a second, and-
"Whoa!"
-and the impact was a lot softer than he'd anticipated. Rodney struggled to sit up, untangling his limbs from the ones of the person who had caught him mid-air just in time, before they'd hit the ground together. He felt… wildly alive, with his heart racing, and yet strangely cheated.
"Hey, you okay?" a concerned voice wanted to know, and Rodney froze, not even breathing. He knew that voice. He knew that voice, but it was impossible that he was hearing it now because its owner was dead, and dear Lord, he'd fallen right on his head, hadn't he? This was some last hallucination of his dying brain, tormenting him with the one thing he wanted and could never-
"Hey, Earth to Rodney. You okay?"
Slowly, so slowly, Rodney turned his head. Dimly, he heard Radek curring somewhere to his left, but he didn't care. Didn't care at all. His breath hitched as he finally inhaled.
"Rodney?" John's expression was full of worry. He was looking at Rodney like he (Rodney, not John) might snap any second, and that probably wasn't too far off the truth.
"You're…" Rodney reached up with shaking hands and started patting any part of John he could reach; his cheeks; his hair; his chest; his shoulders; the soft ridges of his dark butterfly wings. Looking for injuries. Looking for affirmation. "I thought you were… You're not dead."
John's face did that softening thing, the one that meant he thought Rodney was being kind of adorable. "No," he agreed, smiling slightly as he caught Rodney's hands in his own. The smile grew when he looked at Rodney's fingers. "You're not married."
"No." Rodney's heart was pounding so hard he thought it might slam its way right out of his chest and into John's, which would be singularly gross… and also kind of neat. He could feel his cheeks grow hot when the seconds ticked by and John didn't let go of his hands, and John's ears were turning a darker shade of pink, but he held on, thumb brushing over Rodney's knuckles.
"Good," John said hoarsely, and then they just sat there, staring at each other with lovesick smiles till Radek mused loudly that sane people probably would have kissed already. John ducked his head as Rodney's fingers tightened, not looking up but still smiling as Rodney tugged him closer. Their noses bumped and they both snorted, then John pulled his hands from Rodney's to clasp Rodney's face and tilt his head to a slightly different angle.
And then they were kissing. Slowly at first, growing bolder then, until there was nothing in Rodney's world but the softness of John's lips, the warmth of John's breath, the closeness of John's body. John's hair was silky-cool between his fingers, the very tips of his wings brushing against Rodney's other hand where it rested in the small of John's back. John's hands were warm and dry against his cheeks, and they kissed and kissed and would have gone on kissing except someone cleared their throat. Loudly.
John's hands slipped from Rodney's face to his shoulders as they both turned toward the noise. Rodney gaped at the two fairies watching them with amused smile. Weren't they supposed to be sleeping?
"John," the woman said warmly, her auburn hair glinting in the sun. "We rose early to come to your aid, but it would seem you are not in need of our assistance."
The tall, bearded man wasn't as eloquent. "Thought you were getting yourself a girl."
"No," John replied, fingers tightening on Rodney's shoulders, "not a girl."
"Pity." The man shrugged. "A bride would have gotten her own wings."
Rodney blinked, but before he could ask, John's hand on his cheek turned his face away from the newcomers. John was smiling shyly, and Rodney's heart resumed its pounding like it had never calmed down.
"That's okay," John said, thumb brushing across Rodney's cheekbone. "He can share mine."
It was such a stupid thing to say, yet Rodney found himself blinking fast and smiling a decidedly wobbly smile that made John's expression do that softening thing again. And it was so easy to tilt his head up and give John another kiss, and another, and this time there were no interruptions until they stopped on their own.
~~~
The End.
~~~
Except of course Rodney got his own wings after all, though he never quite learned to fly in a straight line and generally preferred to walk or let Radek do the flying for him.
The frog princess married a dryad, the irate bug tried to take over the world but got derailed when his army started a union, and the mole warrior eventually settled down with a field mouse and they and their children lived all in a brotherhood of farmers.
John never stopped being idiotically heroic, but Rodney enlisted the help of Ronon and Teyla, the two fairies who'd come find him, and together they made sure that no self-sacrifices were being made and everyone stayed safe. And if John called Rodney an overprotective mother hen and Rodney invited him - loudly and with a lot of choice words - to discuss that matter more privately, well. There were a lot of places in the flying city where one could pretend not to hear them.
~~~
And they lived happily ever after. Really.
~~~