FIC: The Swedish Solution
Title: The Swedish Solution
Author: Maribou
Fandom/Pairing: Stargate Atlantis; McKay/Sheppard
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: ~1200
Summary: John's back and he brought something for Rodney. It's not a snowglobe.
Obnoxiously long A/N: Many thanks to inmyriadbits, starrymidnight, kissingchaos9, mausi, and crimsonclad for feedback and constant, crazy inspiration. And infinite gratitude and high fives to beingothrwrldly for the wonderful beta. I made a few changes and am too impatient to get further help, so any mistakes here are mine and I would be happy to hear about them in comments. (Also, while I have the floor here: thanks to amnellwyvern for making this icon. It's pink and slashy, and I like it.) Okay, that's it. On to the story!
The Swedish Solution
Hours had passed since the Daedalus had landed, but the gateroom was still busier than usual, with new staff and crew milling around and getting their bearings. John stood surrounded by cargo in the midst of this chaos and addressed the man now standing impatiently before him. The long flight was finally over and surely he deserved a reward for bringing home such an enormous package, didn’t he? He pointed this out with an extra wiggle of the eyebrows that he knew made him look thoroughly put upon and entirely indecent at the same time.
“Oh, shut up,” Rodney said with unconvincing rancor. “Just help me get this box back to my room.”
The box in question was definitely bigger than a breadbox. It was a crate, really, larger than he wanted to carry and made of splintery plywood. The Swedish lettering didn’t help. John sighed.
“Grab the other end,” Rodney grunted, already embracing the thing, his face smooshed up against an umlaut. “Put your back into it!”
“I bet you say that to all the boys,” John groused.
“What was that?”
“It’s bad enough that I had to buy this thing for you, Rodney. What do I get for the heavy lifting?” Rodney was too red in the face to answer, and John enjoyed the relative silence as they sweated and hefted the crate onto a nearby dolly.
Rodney’s requisition was definitely classified as ‘non-essential,’ and he’d had to wait months for it. He had hopped impatiently on the gate deck when John arrived from the latest supply run, waiting for the other goods to be unloaded and delivered and then for the dollies to be returned. Even Teyla’s boxes had gone before the mysterious crate.
“What did you get her that is so important that she gets to go before me?” Rodney almost whined. John pitched his voice as low as he possibly could as he told him. “TAMPONS?” Rodney yelled, oblivious to the heads turning. “You bought tampons, but you were embarrassed to get my - “ John shushed him. Yep, people were definitely looking. He gave Rodney a firm look and an emphatic push towards the head of the cart.
“Let’s get out of here, okay?”
* * * *
Rodney’s room was messier than it had been the last time John had seen it, if such a thing were even possible. Empty coffee mugs sat on every surface like trophies for the sleep-deprived, and clothes lay strewn in tall drifts against the chairs and the walls. Only the bed was clear. It sat against the far wall, strangely naked looking without its mattress.
“Redecorated, I see,” his mouth quirked.
“Ha ha,” Rodney flicked John’s ear.
“Ow! What was that for? Have you been storing up crankiness while I was gone?”
“Again, shut up, okay?” Rodney reached for John’s waist.
“Rodney--” John leaned forward to meet him. He sucked in a breath as Rodney’s hands landed on his hips.
“Your knife, please? I know it’s hard to understand, but this isn’t going to do us any good still in the box.”
John frowned and cut the plastic fasteners himself. He didn’t trust Rodney anywhere near his knife. Or maybe he didn’t trust himself to stay on task while Rodney was anywhere near his waist. It was hard to keep track, especially when Rodney was looking so glowy and excited and wonderfully familiar to him after the long trip on the Daedalus.
The plywood came off with not too much effort and a miraculous lack of splinters. John was pleased; a splintery Rodney was an unhappy Rodney, and an unhappy Rodney usually required an extended make-out session, which usually required a surface slightly less lumpy than Rodney’s floor. Although, he thought, there were probably condoms somewhere in that cozy rubble. And lube, even.
“I still don’t understand why you were so reluctant to pick this up for me,” Rodney complained as he eagerly unwrapped the layers of plastic and bubble wrap.
“I still don’t understand why you have to have a two thousand dollar mattress,” John shot back. He popped some bubble wrap for punctuation. Rodney just rolled his eyes.
“It’s not a mattress,” he spoke very slowly, as though he were explaining it to a very stupid, very drunk baby. “It’s a sleep system.”
“Okay, fine. Why do you need a Swedish sleep system?”
Rodney grinned and clapped his hands together. The mattress - sleep system - was finally free of its packaging. He surveyed it, looking for the best way to maneuver his prize onto the bed frame.
“It’s for my back,” he said distractedly, shifting some plastic out of the way and reaching for the measuring tape on his desk. “I have a bad back, you know. And these are top of the line. NASA designed them for early space flights. It’s very -“
John leaned forward and gave the thing a shove, and it toppled over and hit the heavy, metal frame, knocking it back into the wall with a clang.
“Hey!” Rodney cried. John ignored him and flipped up the corners, settling the mattress perfectly into place.
“You’re welcome,” John’s tone was dry and long-suffering. “You owe me, big time. It’s a Swedish mattress, Rodney. You might as well have requested a Swedish penis pump.” He pressed on, ignoring the wholly stunned expression on Rodney’s face. “And everyone thought I was getting it for myself.”
“It’s just a mattress,” Rodney began, and then stopped as he heard himself. “Ah, well,” he trailed off.
“Yeah,” John said. “Ah, well.”
“It’s not that bad,” Rodney huffed, but he sounded almost apologetic. “At least they didn’t think the tampons were for you.”
John took a step forward, menacing. Rodney held his hands out and offered him some more bubble wrap. “John?” Rodney trying to be placating was…almost funny. Another step, and then John’s hands connected with a very solid chest, and Rodney was down and flat on his bad back.
“Uhhhhhhhh,” he groaned and sprawled into the soft cover of the mattress. “God, this is even better than I could have imagined.” He sighed. He wriggled. “I should have gotten the pillows,” he mumbled to himself as his eyes fluttered closed.
“Rodney,” John began. Rodney ignored him, flipped over onto his stomach and hugged the bed with his whole body.
“I love you,” he whispered to the mattress. “You complete me.”
John gave up and kicked off his boots. He poked Rodney in the side with his finger.
“Scoot over,” he said, and his voice came out rougher than he intended. “Come on,” he prodded Rodney with the flat of his hand, quietly thrilling. “I deserve to see what all the fuss is about.”
Rodney murmured something that sounded suspiciously like better than a penis pump, and shuffled himself to the side. John sat down and was surprised to feel the mattress give so perfectly underneath him. He lay back and gave a long moan.
“Told you,” Rodney said, and turned to face John. The mattress shaped itself to his smirking head. “It’s like zero gravity.”
“But softer,” John said stupidly. And Rodney must have been in as much bliss as he was, because he didn’t even call him on it. He just stretched out an arm and clumsily patted John on the face.
“You are so weird,” John grinned into his fingers. Rodney’s hand slid down to rest on John’s chest, a finger tracing tiny, sleepy circles there. John shifted closer. “I’m never leaving,” he said. “I’m staying on this bed forever.”
“Yeah,” Rodney breathed, and kissed him. “That’s why I got the queen size.”
(fin)
ETA: Here be a link to Rodney's Mattress of DOOOOOOOOM. I heard a rumor that you get one for free when you win a Nobel. :)
Author: Maribou
Fandom/Pairing: Stargate Atlantis; McKay/Sheppard
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: ~1200
Summary: John's back and he brought something for Rodney. It's not a snowglobe.
Obnoxiously long A/N: Many thanks to inmyriadbits, starrymidnight, kissingchaos9, mausi, and crimsonclad for feedback and constant, crazy inspiration. And infinite gratitude and high fives to beingothrwrldly for the wonderful beta. I made a few changes and am too impatient to get further help, so any mistakes here are mine and I would be happy to hear about them in comments. (Also, while I have the floor here: thanks to amnellwyvern for making this icon. It's pink and slashy, and I like it.) Okay, that's it. On to the story!
The Swedish Solution
Hours had passed since the Daedalus had landed, but the gateroom was still busier than usual, with new staff and crew milling around and getting their bearings. John stood surrounded by cargo in the midst of this chaos and addressed the man now standing impatiently before him. The long flight was finally over and surely he deserved a reward for bringing home such an enormous package, didn’t he? He pointed this out with an extra wiggle of the eyebrows that he knew made him look thoroughly put upon and entirely indecent at the same time.
“Oh, shut up,” Rodney said with unconvincing rancor. “Just help me get this box back to my room.”
The box in question was definitely bigger than a breadbox. It was a crate, really, larger than he wanted to carry and made of splintery plywood. The Swedish lettering didn’t help. John sighed.
“Grab the other end,” Rodney grunted, already embracing the thing, his face smooshed up against an umlaut. “Put your back into it!”
“I bet you say that to all the boys,” John groused.
“What was that?”
“It’s bad enough that I had to buy this thing for you, Rodney. What do I get for the heavy lifting?” Rodney was too red in the face to answer, and John enjoyed the relative silence as they sweated and hefted the crate onto a nearby dolly.
Rodney’s requisition was definitely classified as ‘non-essential,’ and he’d had to wait months for it. He had hopped impatiently on the gate deck when John arrived from the latest supply run, waiting for the other goods to be unloaded and delivered and then for the dollies to be returned. Even Teyla’s boxes had gone before the mysterious crate.
“What did you get her that is so important that she gets to go before me?” Rodney almost whined. John pitched his voice as low as he possibly could as he told him. “TAMPONS?” Rodney yelled, oblivious to the heads turning. “You bought tampons, but you were embarrassed to get my - “ John shushed him. Yep, people were definitely looking. He gave Rodney a firm look and an emphatic push towards the head of the cart.
“Let’s get out of here, okay?”
* * * *
Rodney’s room was messier than it had been the last time John had seen it, if such a thing were even possible. Empty coffee mugs sat on every surface like trophies for the sleep-deprived, and clothes lay strewn in tall drifts against the chairs and the walls. Only the bed was clear. It sat against the far wall, strangely naked looking without its mattress.
“Redecorated, I see,” his mouth quirked.
“Ha ha,” Rodney flicked John’s ear.
“Ow! What was that for? Have you been storing up crankiness while I was gone?”
“Again, shut up, okay?” Rodney reached for John’s waist.
“Rodney--” John leaned forward to meet him. He sucked in a breath as Rodney’s hands landed on his hips.
“Your knife, please? I know it’s hard to understand, but this isn’t going to do us any good still in the box.”
John frowned and cut the plastic fasteners himself. He didn’t trust Rodney anywhere near his knife. Or maybe he didn’t trust himself to stay on task while Rodney was anywhere near his waist. It was hard to keep track, especially when Rodney was looking so glowy and excited and wonderfully familiar to him after the long trip on the Daedalus.
The plywood came off with not too much effort and a miraculous lack of splinters. John was pleased; a splintery Rodney was an unhappy Rodney, and an unhappy Rodney usually required an extended make-out session, which usually required a surface slightly less lumpy than Rodney’s floor. Although, he thought, there were probably condoms somewhere in that cozy rubble. And lube, even.
“I still don’t understand why you were so reluctant to pick this up for me,” Rodney complained as he eagerly unwrapped the layers of plastic and bubble wrap.
“I still don’t understand why you have to have a two thousand dollar mattress,” John shot back. He popped some bubble wrap for punctuation. Rodney just rolled his eyes.
“It’s not a mattress,” he spoke very slowly, as though he were explaining it to a very stupid, very drunk baby. “It’s a sleep system.”
“Okay, fine. Why do you need a Swedish sleep system?”
Rodney grinned and clapped his hands together. The mattress - sleep system - was finally free of its packaging. He surveyed it, looking for the best way to maneuver his prize onto the bed frame.
“It’s for my back,” he said distractedly, shifting some plastic out of the way and reaching for the measuring tape on his desk. “I have a bad back, you know. And these are top of the line. NASA designed them for early space flights. It’s very -“
John leaned forward and gave the thing a shove, and it toppled over and hit the heavy, metal frame, knocking it back into the wall with a clang.
“Hey!” Rodney cried. John ignored him and flipped up the corners, settling the mattress perfectly into place.
“You’re welcome,” John’s tone was dry and long-suffering. “You owe me, big time. It’s a Swedish mattress, Rodney. You might as well have requested a Swedish penis pump.” He pressed on, ignoring the wholly stunned expression on Rodney’s face. “And everyone thought I was getting it for myself.”
“It’s just a mattress,” Rodney began, and then stopped as he heard himself. “Ah, well,” he trailed off.
“Yeah,” John said. “Ah, well.”
“It’s not that bad,” Rodney huffed, but he sounded almost apologetic. “At least they didn’t think the tampons were for you.”
John took a step forward, menacing. Rodney held his hands out and offered him some more bubble wrap. “John?” Rodney trying to be placating was…almost funny. Another step, and then John’s hands connected with a very solid chest, and Rodney was down and flat on his bad back.
“Uhhhhhhhh,” he groaned and sprawled into the soft cover of the mattress. “God, this is even better than I could have imagined.” He sighed. He wriggled. “I should have gotten the pillows,” he mumbled to himself as his eyes fluttered closed.
“Rodney,” John began. Rodney ignored him, flipped over onto his stomach and hugged the bed with his whole body.
“I love you,” he whispered to the mattress. “You complete me.”
John gave up and kicked off his boots. He poked Rodney in the side with his finger.
“Scoot over,” he said, and his voice came out rougher than he intended. “Come on,” he prodded Rodney with the flat of his hand, quietly thrilling. “I deserve to see what all the fuss is about.”
Rodney murmured something that sounded suspiciously like better than a penis pump, and shuffled himself to the side. John sat down and was surprised to feel the mattress give so perfectly underneath him. He lay back and gave a long moan.
“Told you,” Rodney said, and turned to face John. The mattress shaped itself to his smirking head. “It’s like zero gravity.”
“But softer,” John said stupidly. And Rodney must have been in as much bliss as he was, because he didn’t even call him on it. He just stretched out an arm and clumsily patted John on the face.
“You are so weird,” John grinned into his fingers. Rodney’s hand slid down to rest on John’s chest, a finger tracing tiny, sleepy circles there. John shifted closer. “I’m never leaving,” he said. “I’m staying on this bed forever.”
“Yeah,” Rodney breathed, and kissed him. “That’s why I got the queen size.”
(fin)
ETA: Here be a link to Rodney's Mattress of DOOOOOOOOM. I heard a rumor that you get one for free when you win a Nobel. :)