Starry Starry Night.
Title: Starry, Starry Night
Pairing: John/Rodney
Disclaimer: don't own em. They belong to other people. Dammit.
Summary: The cabin door swung shut and John stepped off the porch and onto the gravel driveway, coming to sit beside Rodney
The stars hung upside down and backward as Rodney looked up into the night time sky. After five years on Atlantis and on god knows how many planets in Pegasus, Earth just wasn't home any more, and its night sky, so long a part of him-his education, his childhood, his passion-was more alien to him than strange worlds in an alien galaxy.
Jack had invited John and his team to spend a week's furlough at his cabin while he was in Washington, negotiating Atlantis' return to Pegasus. Rodney and John had accepted immediately and separately, and John convinced Teyla and Ronon to join them. Ronon was already bored and making noises about heading back to Atlantis. Rodney didn't know if it was because he missed Sergeant Banks or sparring or just the walls of Atlantis itself, but he had a feeling that Ronon was heading back at day break. Teyla had come, but after a couple of days at the cabin with nothing to do but watch TV, play video games and fish, she'd begged off and gone to visit Jeannie for the remainder of her furlough. He smiled wistfully, pleased to know that his team and his family got along so well that they enjoyed and sought out each others' company.
The cabin door swung shut and John stepped off the porch and onto the gravel driveway, coming to sit beside Rodney on the bumper of the SUV they'd borrowed from the SGC. "What's that smile for?" John asked him, handing him a beer.
"Thanks," said Rodney, reaching to twist off the cap and finding it already gone-John having opened it for him already. He took a long sip and sighed. "Nothing, really. Just...thinking about Teyla and Jeannie and how my family and team are so comfortable with each other."
"Oh really?"
"Yeah. I mean, Teyla didn't even ask me, just called Jeannie up and asked to visit."
"And Jeannie said yes?" John asked.
Rodney sighed, contented. "Yeah. I mean, she's always asking about you guys in emails. 'How's Ronon doing? Is he still beating the heck out of the marines?' 'Are Teyla and Kanaan ever going to make their relationship official? How's Torren?' Hell, John, she even asks about you."
"Well, why wouldn't she? I mean, you guys...Well, you're all the closest I've got to..." John trailed off and sighed, then finished, "You know."
Rodney chuckled. "Family, John. I know, and you'd think after five years of missions and infirmary visits and illnesses and injuries and death defying suicide runs that you'd at least be able to say the word."
"Family," John uttered. "There," he said, pointing at Rodney with the beer bottle. "I said it. But yeah, you guys, that's what you are, and since Jeannie's your sister..."
"Well, that's not the kind of questions she asks, John."
"Oh?" John said, and there was something in his tone, something abrupt, short, almost secretive. Rodney turned to look at him.
"She asks what you're up to. If I'm keeping you out of trouble and if you're keeping me out of trouble. I keep reminding her you don't need me to do that, even if I could you'd ignore me, and I'm wise enough to admit the reverse is true as well. But she always asks about you." Rodney huffed a laugh. "She never asked about Jennifer. I used to wonder why."
"I don't know, buddy," John said, lifting the bottle to his lips and looking away.
Rodney tilted his head and watched John's face. The mask of indifference was so completely thorough Rodney almost missed the shadow of regret that passed through John's eyes.
"Good thing we broke up, then, huh?" Rodney said, watching for John's reaction. John turned back to him, smooth half-smile in place, but Rodney wasn't fooled.
The stars twinkled above them, pinpoints of light in John's eyes, dark with a heat Rodney could almost feel against his skin.
Rodney took another sip of his beer, and John's eyes followed the movement of his lips over the bottle.
The bottom fell out of Rodney's stomach, and he blinked.
John whispered, "Fuck it," and slowly set his bottle down beside him on the bumper. Then cool callused hands were on Rodney's face, tugging him in.
Rodney had enough time to lick his lips moist before John was kissing him-a soft meshing of mouths that surprised him, left him motionless and still in the kiss. Then John pulled away, whispering, "Dammit. Sorry, Rodney, I shouldn't have," and turning to pick up his beer again.
But Rodney wasn't ready for it to be over, so he curled his hand around the back of John's neck, and said, "Don't apologize," and he kissed John. John tasted cool and bitter like the beer, but he felt warm, and opened almost immediately with a low groan, and the kiss deepened. Mouths open on each other, tongues sliding slick and rough and agile against each other. John spread his legs out, and Rodney stepped between them, settling one hand on John's chest while the other held him still in the kiss.
John had one hand on the back of Rodney's head, holding on to him, his thumb rubbing beneath Rodney's jaw, and the other was on Rodney's waist, pulling his shirt up, teasing along sensitive skin.
Rodney pulled away from the kiss slowly, setting down tiny kisses along John's lips and chin and jaw. Finally, he pulled away and John was smiling that one sided smile that Rodney loved to hate. He slid his thumb over that smile, and said, "I had no idea."
John's eyes closed, and he let out a long, soft sigh, resigned. "You weren't supposed to."
"Why not?" Rodney's hand fell to John's shoulder.
John rolled his eyes. "You know the answer to that."
"Yeah, I suppose I do. You know your military is stupid?"
John actually laughed, "Yeah, it's crossed my mind a time or two."
Rodney searched John's face, now open and smiling. It was a rare look for the Colonel, and Rodney found himself relishing it. He leaned forward, wanting again to taste those lips. "Well. What they don't know..." he said, closing the distance between them.
John pulled him closer and against Rodney's lips whispered, "Won't hurt 'em."
And under foreign stars of what was no longer home, they kissed and kissed and kissed.
Pairing: John/Rodney
Disclaimer: don't own em. They belong to other people. Dammit.
Summary: The cabin door swung shut and John stepped off the porch and onto the gravel driveway, coming to sit beside Rodney
The stars hung upside down and backward as Rodney looked up into the night time sky. After five years on Atlantis and on god knows how many planets in Pegasus, Earth just wasn't home any more, and its night sky, so long a part of him-his education, his childhood, his passion-was more alien to him than strange worlds in an alien galaxy.
Jack had invited John and his team to spend a week's furlough at his cabin while he was in Washington, negotiating Atlantis' return to Pegasus. Rodney and John had accepted immediately and separately, and John convinced Teyla and Ronon to join them. Ronon was already bored and making noises about heading back to Atlantis. Rodney didn't know if it was because he missed Sergeant Banks or sparring or just the walls of Atlantis itself, but he had a feeling that Ronon was heading back at day break. Teyla had come, but after a couple of days at the cabin with nothing to do but watch TV, play video games and fish, she'd begged off and gone to visit Jeannie for the remainder of her furlough. He smiled wistfully, pleased to know that his team and his family got along so well that they enjoyed and sought out each others' company.
The cabin door swung shut and John stepped off the porch and onto the gravel driveway, coming to sit beside Rodney on the bumper of the SUV they'd borrowed from the SGC. "What's that smile for?" John asked him, handing him a beer.
"Thanks," said Rodney, reaching to twist off the cap and finding it already gone-John having opened it for him already. He took a long sip and sighed. "Nothing, really. Just...thinking about Teyla and Jeannie and how my family and team are so comfortable with each other."
"Oh really?"
"Yeah. I mean, Teyla didn't even ask me, just called Jeannie up and asked to visit."
"And Jeannie said yes?" John asked.
Rodney sighed, contented. "Yeah. I mean, she's always asking about you guys in emails. 'How's Ronon doing? Is he still beating the heck out of the marines?' 'Are Teyla and Kanaan ever going to make their relationship official? How's Torren?' Hell, John, she even asks about you."
"Well, why wouldn't she? I mean, you guys...Well, you're all the closest I've got to..." John trailed off and sighed, then finished, "You know."
Rodney chuckled. "Family, John. I know, and you'd think after five years of missions and infirmary visits and illnesses and injuries and death defying suicide runs that you'd at least be able to say the word."
"Family," John uttered. "There," he said, pointing at Rodney with the beer bottle. "I said it. But yeah, you guys, that's what you are, and since Jeannie's your sister..."
"Well, that's not the kind of questions she asks, John."
"Oh?" John said, and there was something in his tone, something abrupt, short, almost secretive. Rodney turned to look at him.
"She asks what you're up to. If I'm keeping you out of trouble and if you're keeping me out of trouble. I keep reminding her you don't need me to do that, even if I could you'd ignore me, and I'm wise enough to admit the reverse is true as well. But she always asks about you." Rodney huffed a laugh. "She never asked about Jennifer. I used to wonder why."
"I don't know, buddy," John said, lifting the bottle to his lips and looking away.
Rodney tilted his head and watched John's face. The mask of indifference was so completely thorough Rodney almost missed the shadow of regret that passed through John's eyes.
"Good thing we broke up, then, huh?" Rodney said, watching for John's reaction. John turned back to him, smooth half-smile in place, but Rodney wasn't fooled.
The stars twinkled above them, pinpoints of light in John's eyes, dark with a heat Rodney could almost feel against his skin.
Rodney took another sip of his beer, and John's eyes followed the movement of his lips over the bottle.
The bottom fell out of Rodney's stomach, and he blinked.
John whispered, "Fuck it," and slowly set his bottle down beside him on the bumper. Then cool callused hands were on Rodney's face, tugging him in.
Rodney had enough time to lick his lips moist before John was kissing him-a soft meshing of mouths that surprised him, left him motionless and still in the kiss. Then John pulled away, whispering, "Dammit. Sorry, Rodney, I shouldn't have," and turning to pick up his beer again.
But Rodney wasn't ready for it to be over, so he curled his hand around the back of John's neck, and said, "Don't apologize," and he kissed John. John tasted cool and bitter like the beer, but he felt warm, and opened almost immediately with a low groan, and the kiss deepened. Mouths open on each other, tongues sliding slick and rough and agile against each other. John spread his legs out, and Rodney stepped between them, settling one hand on John's chest while the other held him still in the kiss.
John had one hand on the back of Rodney's head, holding on to him, his thumb rubbing beneath Rodney's jaw, and the other was on Rodney's waist, pulling his shirt up, teasing along sensitive skin.
Rodney pulled away from the kiss slowly, setting down tiny kisses along John's lips and chin and jaw. Finally, he pulled away and John was smiling that one sided smile that Rodney loved to hate. He slid his thumb over that smile, and said, "I had no idea."
John's eyes closed, and he let out a long, soft sigh, resigned. "You weren't supposed to."
"Why not?" Rodney's hand fell to John's shoulder.
John rolled his eyes. "You know the answer to that."
"Yeah, I suppose I do. You know your military is stupid?"
John actually laughed, "Yeah, it's crossed my mind a time or two."
Rodney searched John's face, now open and smiling. It was a rare look for the Colonel, and Rodney found himself relishing it. He leaned forward, wanting again to taste those lips. "Well. What they don't know..." he said, closing the distance between them.
John pulled him closer and against Rodney's lips whispered, "Won't hurt 'em."
And under foreign stars of what was no longer home, they kissed and kissed and kissed.