Permeable (Daniel/Rodney, John)
Title: Permeable
Author: Cesare (almostnever)
Pairing: Daniel Jackson/Rodney McKay (implied unrequited John/Rodney)
Ratings/Warnings: Worksafe. Episode tag for 510, "First Contact."
Word count: ~750
*
John's stepping through the wall into Janus' secret lab-- just thinking 'secret lab' keeps making him grin at his crazy, crazy life-- when he realizes a few things, all in the same intuitive moment.
The entryway to the lab, while no longer solid wall, isn't an open passage either; it's a collection of particles made permeable by a resonant frequency device rigged to generate the tones that open it. The wall admits matter, but because sound waves at a specific frequency make it passable, no other sounds travel through it.
He understands this abruptly because as he steps through, it's silent until the moment his ears clear the wall, when suddenly he can hear a voice in mid-word.
"--stake," the voice is saying. It's Daniel Jackson, standing opposite Rodney. He's not that close, just a little nearer than arm's length, but normally, Rodney's abrasive anti-charisma seems to create a kind of blast radius around him. People don't usually get that close.
That's the second thing John puts together almost instantly, and it makes him gentle his step and pause, hesitating halfway through the wall and trying not to think about what would happen if the frequency generator decided to fritz out right now.
He stays where he is, though, because Rodney's got his arms crossed while he looks at Daniel, and it's all wrong. His shoulders aren't stiff enough, his chin isn't raised to signal his stubborn arrogance. He's simply meeting Daniel's eyes, none of the usual Rodneyish scorn in his expression.
"Always is," Rodney says.
It's his answer, John rapidly infers: what Daniel was saying must have ended with mistake and now Rodney is replying: Always is.
Daniel breathes a short and soundless laugh. His eyes go to Rodney's crossed arms, then up to meet his direct and focused gaze, and then, for a second that feels like forever, fix on his mouth.
John can see Daniel's jaw and throat work as he swallows.
Of course John knows, weight awkwardly balanced between feet positioned in mid-stride, halfway through a goddamn magic Ancient wall-- he knows what's going to happen. He knew before his foot touched down, he knew as soon as he saw them standing there, not really all that close, but close enough.
It still shocks him a little when Jackson takes a step and slips his hand around the back of Rodney's neck. Jackson leans in smoothly, and Rodney's lips part for him before he's even there.
It's not a first kiss. Not by a long shot.
For a moment they're kissing but Rodney's still standing with his arms folded, uncompromising, and John thinks, maybe. John thinks, don't-- don't--
John thinks, Mistake. Always is.
Then Rodney's arms unfold, and his hand closes on Jackson's shoulder. John concentrates on Rodney's hand. Not really. He sees everything, his eyes almost ache from darting around like crazy to drink in every detail, but he tells himself he's watching Rodney's hand.
Rodney's long fingers wrap around the cap of Jackson's deltoid. Jackson's pretty built, for a geek. Maybe that's why. Rodney can, unsurprisingly, open his mouth really widely. He looks kind of like he's unhinging his jaw to eat Jackson's face. It shouldn't be sexy, but it is. Jackson's hand moves on Rodney's nape, strokes and slides up into his hair.
Both of them kiss with their eyes closed. Rodney has small ears. His hand moves up Jackson's shoulder and his thumb rubs along Jackson's neck, and then he smooths his palm over Jackson's collarbone, down his arm, and his fingers lay relaxed along Jackson's sleeve.
They're not stopping; this is going somewhere. John eases his weight onto his back foot again. When his head passes into and through the wall, the silence is shocking, even though he hadn't consciously registered the noises that play back for him now in the quiet of the corridor, the soft, wet sounds of kissing.
John doesn't try to blank it out as he falls back to regroup in his quarters. Lost cause. It's funny, it's remembering Rodney's hand that gets to him most, gentle against Jackson's shoulder, open, relaxed, just resting there.
That's what gets to him the most. That, and how Rodney was so ready for it, mouth already soft for Jackson before they even touched. That, and everything else.
John gets out his guitar, because it's something. He plays a few rough chords, just sound, no music.
Mistake. Always is. It's not much to hold onto, but it's what he's got.
*
Author: Cesare (almostnever)
Pairing: Daniel Jackson/Rodney McKay (implied unrequited John/Rodney)
Ratings/Warnings: Worksafe. Episode tag for 510, "First Contact."
Word count: ~750
*
John's stepping through the wall into Janus' secret lab-- just thinking 'secret lab' keeps making him grin at his crazy, crazy life-- when he realizes a few things, all in the same intuitive moment.
The entryway to the lab, while no longer solid wall, isn't an open passage either; it's a collection of particles made permeable by a resonant frequency device rigged to generate the tones that open it. The wall admits matter, but because sound waves at a specific frequency make it passable, no other sounds travel through it.
He understands this abruptly because as he steps through, it's silent until the moment his ears clear the wall, when suddenly he can hear a voice in mid-word.
"--stake," the voice is saying. It's Daniel Jackson, standing opposite Rodney. He's not that close, just a little nearer than arm's length, but normally, Rodney's abrasive anti-charisma seems to create a kind of blast radius around him. People don't usually get that close.
That's the second thing John puts together almost instantly, and it makes him gentle his step and pause, hesitating halfway through the wall and trying not to think about what would happen if the frequency generator decided to fritz out right now.
He stays where he is, though, because Rodney's got his arms crossed while he looks at Daniel, and it's all wrong. His shoulders aren't stiff enough, his chin isn't raised to signal his stubborn arrogance. He's simply meeting Daniel's eyes, none of the usual Rodneyish scorn in his expression.
"Always is," Rodney says.
It's his answer, John rapidly infers: what Daniel was saying must have ended with mistake and now Rodney is replying: Always is.
Daniel breathes a short and soundless laugh. His eyes go to Rodney's crossed arms, then up to meet his direct and focused gaze, and then, for a second that feels like forever, fix on his mouth.
John can see Daniel's jaw and throat work as he swallows.
Of course John knows, weight awkwardly balanced between feet positioned in mid-stride, halfway through a goddamn magic Ancient wall-- he knows what's going to happen. He knew before his foot touched down, he knew as soon as he saw them standing there, not really all that close, but close enough.
It still shocks him a little when Jackson takes a step and slips his hand around the back of Rodney's neck. Jackson leans in smoothly, and Rodney's lips part for him before he's even there.
It's not a first kiss. Not by a long shot.
For a moment they're kissing but Rodney's still standing with his arms folded, uncompromising, and John thinks, maybe. John thinks, don't-- don't--
John thinks, Mistake. Always is.
Then Rodney's arms unfold, and his hand closes on Jackson's shoulder. John concentrates on Rodney's hand. Not really. He sees everything, his eyes almost ache from darting around like crazy to drink in every detail, but he tells himself he's watching Rodney's hand.
Rodney's long fingers wrap around the cap of Jackson's deltoid. Jackson's pretty built, for a geek. Maybe that's why. Rodney can, unsurprisingly, open his mouth really widely. He looks kind of like he's unhinging his jaw to eat Jackson's face. It shouldn't be sexy, but it is. Jackson's hand moves on Rodney's nape, strokes and slides up into his hair.
Both of them kiss with their eyes closed. Rodney has small ears. His hand moves up Jackson's shoulder and his thumb rubs along Jackson's neck, and then he smooths his palm over Jackson's collarbone, down his arm, and his fingers lay relaxed along Jackson's sleeve.
They're not stopping; this is going somewhere. John eases his weight onto his back foot again. When his head passes into and through the wall, the silence is shocking, even though he hadn't consciously registered the noises that play back for him now in the quiet of the corridor, the soft, wet sounds of kissing.
John doesn't try to blank it out as he falls back to regroup in his quarters. Lost cause. It's funny, it's remembering Rodney's hand that gets to him most, gentle against Jackson's shoulder, open, relaxed, just resting there.
That's what gets to him the most. That, and how Rodney was so ready for it, mouth already soft for Jackson before they even touched. That, and everything else.
John gets out his guitar, because it's something. He plays a few rough chords, just sound, no music.
Mistake. Always is. It's not much to hold onto, but it's what he's got.
*