Yay! McSmooch is OPEN!
Title: Not So Oblivious
Rating: PG
Warnings: none, that I'm aware of.
Summary: Then again, John thought, taking another sip of his drink, Rodney was oblivious about lots of stuff.
The noise of the feast echoed through the corridor behind him and John took another sip of his very fruity and sweet concoction and glanced over his shoulder. He could see Ronon and Teyla seated at the head of the table, laughing with Chancellor Karan and the other dignitaries of the town. Satisfied that things were going well, he continued around the corner to the room where Rodney had locked himself away.
He pushed open the door, and leaned in the doorway to watch Rodney. He couldn’t see the screen at which Rodney was frowning and muttering, but John figured Rodney was working on the town’s shield generators or modulating the flow and ebb of the irrigation system or whatever else caught Rodney’s interest, because it certainly wasn’t the genteel people. Hell, for all John knew, Rodney was playing solitaire, determinedly oblivious of the rustic, backwards rural harvest/welcome festival going on without him.
Then again, John thought, taking another sip of his drink, Rodney was oblivious about lots of stuff. Stuff that, had he been anywhere near as observant as he liked to think, Rodney would have caught on to years ago. John shook his head and stared down into his cup. Damn. That must have been some seriously good hooch if it freed him up enough to admit that it’d been years that he’s looked at Rodney this way.
Fuck it.
Another sip, and he felt his lips slide into the smirk he knew was guaranteed to piss Rodney off if he saw it, then slinked his way into the room silently.
“Whatchya doin’ Rodney?” He asked, and nearly laughed when Rodney visibly jumped nearly out of his skin.
The screen immediately went black. There went a game of solitaire, John thought.
“I was not having a heart attack, at the very least, Colonel, but I see that you, once again, can’t let it go. So I thank you for startling another seven years off of my life. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to work, as I’m sure you’d like to get back to enjoying the company of whatever priestess or hot alien babe is at your beck and call tonight.”
The smirk got bigger. Jealous Rodney was always fun. “No alien babe, Rodney. But I’m sure Chancellor Karan would be happy to take her place,” he teased, hiding his grin behind his mug of damned good drink.
Rodney turned to him, lips pursed. “Oh, so you’re an equal opportunity space slut, then? Why did I not know this before now?”
John sniffed, then flicked his gaze over Rodney’s face. He rested a hand on Rodney’s shoulder. “You never looked,” he said, flippantly, then caught Rodney’s eyes. “Or asked.”
Rodney frowned and glanced down at John’s hand, then looked back up at John’s face. “Are you flirting with me, Colonel?”
Maybe it was the drink. Maybe the atmosphere. Or maybe John was just sick and tired of the thing he wanted being right next to him and never having it. Whatever it was that made him move, he didn’t care. He set his cup down on the table and dropped down into a squat to meet Rodney’s belligerent gaze head on. “Maybe I am, Rodney.” He slid his fingers around to the back of Rodney’s neck and into the fine curls at the end of his hair.
Rodney gaped at him. “You? With…me? Really?”
John’s smirk turned into a genuine smile. “Why not you?” He asked, and damned if he didn’t start petting Rodney.
“Well of course why not me! I mean who wouldn’t, in their right mind, but you could never be accused of being in your right mind so I never figured you’d…Are you petting me?”
John’s hand stopped moving.
“No! I mean, pet away! Petting is good. Nice even. I like petting.” Rodney pressed his head back into John’s hand, like a cat, and sighed. “I like petting,” he said again, softer, his eyes closed.
John felt reckless, free, loose. Warmth pulsed through his veins, the heady warmth that came hard on the heels of a good drunk or budding arousal. John felt lazy with it and careless, and he leaned forward, his lips a breath away from Rodney’s. “What else do you like?” he asked.
Rodney looked at him, blue eyes wide, a little scared. “Colonel,” he started, but corrected, “John, are you drunk?”
John inclined his head, brushed his nose against Rodney’s in a brief kiss of skin. “No.”
He heard Rodney swallow, then those blue, blue eyes narrowed, ready to pull away, John knew, to back off if the next thing he said was wrong. And Rodney, fearless, determined Rodney, his Rodney said, “I like kissing,” and lifted his chin, daring John to turn him down.
John just smiled, rubbed his nose against Rodney’s again, and said, “Me, too.”
Then he kissed Rodney.
Rating: PG
Warnings: none, that I'm aware of.
Summary: Then again, John thought, taking another sip of his drink, Rodney was oblivious about lots of stuff.
The noise of the feast echoed through the corridor behind him and John took another sip of his very fruity and sweet concoction and glanced over his shoulder. He could see Ronon and Teyla seated at the head of the table, laughing with Chancellor Karan and the other dignitaries of the town. Satisfied that things were going well, he continued around the corner to the room where Rodney had locked himself away.
He pushed open the door, and leaned in the doorway to watch Rodney. He couldn’t see the screen at which Rodney was frowning and muttering, but John figured Rodney was working on the town’s shield generators or modulating the flow and ebb of the irrigation system or whatever else caught Rodney’s interest, because it certainly wasn’t the genteel people. Hell, for all John knew, Rodney was playing solitaire, determinedly oblivious of the rustic, backwards rural harvest/welcome festival going on without him.
Then again, John thought, taking another sip of his drink, Rodney was oblivious about lots of stuff. Stuff that, had he been anywhere near as observant as he liked to think, Rodney would have caught on to years ago. John shook his head and stared down into his cup. Damn. That must have been some seriously good hooch if it freed him up enough to admit that it’d been years that he’s looked at Rodney this way.
Fuck it.
Another sip, and he felt his lips slide into the smirk he knew was guaranteed to piss Rodney off if he saw it, then slinked his way into the room silently.
“Whatchya doin’ Rodney?” He asked, and nearly laughed when Rodney visibly jumped nearly out of his skin.
The screen immediately went black. There went a game of solitaire, John thought.
“I was not having a heart attack, at the very least, Colonel, but I see that you, once again, can’t let it go. So I thank you for startling another seven years off of my life. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to work, as I’m sure you’d like to get back to enjoying the company of whatever priestess or hot alien babe is at your beck and call tonight.”
The smirk got bigger. Jealous Rodney was always fun. “No alien babe, Rodney. But I’m sure Chancellor Karan would be happy to take her place,” he teased, hiding his grin behind his mug of damned good drink.
Rodney turned to him, lips pursed. “Oh, so you’re an equal opportunity space slut, then? Why did I not know this before now?”
John sniffed, then flicked his gaze over Rodney’s face. He rested a hand on Rodney’s shoulder. “You never looked,” he said, flippantly, then caught Rodney’s eyes. “Or asked.”
Rodney frowned and glanced down at John’s hand, then looked back up at John’s face. “Are you flirting with me, Colonel?”
Maybe it was the drink. Maybe the atmosphere. Or maybe John was just sick and tired of the thing he wanted being right next to him and never having it. Whatever it was that made him move, he didn’t care. He set his cup down on the table and dropped down into a squat to meet Rodney’s belligerent gaze head on. “Maybe I am, Rodney.” He slid his fingers around to the back of Rodney’s neck and into the fine curls at the end of his hair.
Rodney gaped at him. “You? With…me? Really?”
John’s smirk turned into a genuine smile. “Why not you?” He asked, and damned if he didn’t start petting Rodney.
“Well of course why not me! I mean who wouldn’t, in their right mind, but you could never be accused of being in your right mind so I never figured you’d…Are you petting me?”
John’s hand stopped moving.
“No! I mean, pet away! Petting is good. Nice even. I like petting.” Rodney pressed his head back into John’s hand, like a cat, and sighed. “I like petting,” he said again, softer, his eyes closed.
John felt reckless, free, loose. Warmth pulsed through his veins, the heady warmth that came hard on the heels of a good drunk or budding arousal. John felt lazy with it and careless, and he leaned forward, his lips a breath away from Rodney’s. “What else do you like?” he asked.
Rodney looked at him, blue eyes wide, a little scared. “Colonel,” he started, but corrected, “John, are you drunk?”
John inclined his head, brushed his nose against Rodney’s in a brief kiss of skin. “No.”
He heard Rodney swallow, then those blue, blue eyes narrowed, ready to pull away, John knew, to back off if the next thing he said was wrong. And Rodney, fearless, determined Rodney, his Rodney said, “I like kissing,” and lifted his chin, daring John to turn him down.
John just smiled, rubbed his nose against Rodney’s again, and said, “Me, too.”
Then he kissed Rodney.