Harlequin Challenge: The Convenient Husband 2/2
Story details in part one.
The Convenient Husband, part 2.
)0(
Four weeks later he was teaching his first set of classes, and oh, god. Undergrads.
By the time he got home he was pretty sure he wasn't going to survive the first week. "Why am I doing this again?" he asked, standing in the doorway to John's home office. He'd chosen the room that got the most late day sun; it was painted a dark taupe, the trim the same chocolate brown as the rest of the house. The wall opposite the window had a six-foot framed poster of Johnny Cash, and the rest of the walls were dotted with hastily taped up blueprints and design specs. It looked warm and lived in and for some reason appallingly homey.
Perhaps because it reminded Rodney strongly of John, and that connection was one he didn't want to consider too closely.
"Because otherwise you'll have to work with another generation of stupid people who are wrong, wrong, so very wrong?" John asked, without turning away from the computer, completely oblivious to the small panic attack that bubbled up and then subsided again in Rodney's chest.
"That's right. That's what I was thinking." Rodney sighed. "What's for dinner?"
"Hrm. Chicken breasts. Do you want 'em stir-fry or barbecue?" John closed the e-mail file he'd been reading and turned to face Rodney. "My grandmother's lawyers are satisfied I've met the terms of the will; I should see the money after one year of marriage, and I've already been allowed to vote with her shares. My cousin is, as I expected, challenging the will. I've already heard from his lawyer, and I expect he'll probably have a detective up here nosing around. Oh, and my mother and little sister are coming to stay for a couple of nights. I think they're a little pissed off they didn't get invited to the wedding."
"Pissed off mother-in-law. Yay," Rodney said. "Stir fry. I'll set table, and help with the vegetables." John stood up, pulled him close in a one-armed hug and kissed him affectionately on the side of the mouth. If he closed his eyes he could make himself believe it was real. He kept his eyes open. "I'm not being nice," Rodney said. "You just cut the vegetables too big, and they never cook through properly."
"I like 'em crunchy," John said. "Al dente." He smacked Rodney gently on the ass. "Things are going to start getting ... busy soon. Work's speeding up. And family. And Alex. You okay with that?" His fingers crept up under Rodney's olive green jersey knit shirt, traced slow circles on the small of his back.
"It's what I signed on for," Rodney said, breath hitching.
"Good," John said, and he angled his head, leaned in and breathed on the side of Rodney's neck. "How hungry are you?"
"Starving," Rodney said.
"Good," John said again, and then they were kissing, at four o'clock in the afternoon, surrounded by September sunshine in a room with dozens of blueprints taped up all over the walls.
)0(
McFly barking at the front door told Rodney that John was home with his mother and sister from the airport, so he dried his hands off on a tea towel and went out to help with cases. His mother-in-law was tall, with silver in her dark hair and a Jones New York sort of look to her. She smiled politely at him. "Hello, Rodney. It's been a long time."
"Yeah. Almost twenty years," he agreed. "Hey, Maggie." John's little sister wasn't really all that little anymore, but Rodney remembered her as a chubby-legged toddler, trying to follow them around when he'd been thirteen. "You're a lot taller than the last time I saw you."
Her dark hair was short, in a razor-edged pixie-cut, and she wore blue mascara. Her mouth was painted in a scarlet cupid's bow. She looked at him a moment, her expression inscrutable. "Yeah, I'm potty trained now, too." She handed him the handle to her big case and kept her carry-on. "So. You guys have beer, right? Because I want beer, burgers and a bubble bath."
Rodney snorted. "There's beer. The barbecue is warming now, so burgers could be in your future, though the rest of us are having steak." He lifted her case up the three steps to their front stoop. "You might be on your own for the bubbles, though. They make me itchy. Check with John." He pushed the front door open, shoving McFly back with his foot. Fenster was at the top of the stairs, viewing them all with suspicion.
"How was your trip?" he asked, setting the case down.
"It sucked," Maggie replied, setting her carry-on down. "They don't circulate the damned air anymore and this guy was sneezing the whole trip. We'll probably all die of SARS or something. Now. Bathroom?" Rodney pointed to the end of the hall. "Just to your left." He turned to see Mrs. Sheppard standing contemplatively in the hall, peering into the great room.
"Well. You certainly have enough books. And gadgets. And dear God, how many gaming systems do two grown men need?"
"Yeah," said John. "Well. I tried pressing flowers, but Rodney's allergic." He pointed up the stairs. "Your room's up there." He started lugging her case upstairs. "You do know you're just staying a week, right?" was the last thing Rodney heard before he wheeled Maggie's case down the hall to his office. They'd put the futon down into a bed, and for the next week he'd work either up in John's space, or in his office at UBC.
"Nice," Maggie said at his shoulder. "I've never seen a ten-inch thick futon before. That's pretty swank.
"It's from my last place," Rodney said. "I only had the one spare room, so it was both office and guest room."
They stood there for a few minutes, just looking at each other. Finally, Maggie said, "You hurt my brother, I'll gut you with my bare hands."
"Tough words, coming from an English major," Rodney said. "You wanna go now, get it out of our systems?" His heart was beating too fast, and his gut was churning and he knew he sounded like an asshole.
Maggie sat down on the futon, hands clenched into fists. "I remember you, a little, from when I was a kid. You always made a stink about having a little kid around. You also always slipped me candy and bought me the stupid water wings. I remember that, so I'm going to give you a chance. But John? Has had enough shit, and if you hurt him, I will kill you." She looked up and her eyes were the same hazel-green as her brother's.
"If I hurt him, I'll stand still and let you," Rodney said finally. "I have to go get the meat on the barbecue. Burger or steak?"
"Steak," Maggie said. "Is there time for me to have a shower? I want to wash the SARS off."
"Feel free," Rodney said.
)0(
So far the visit had been ... painfully awkward. Maggie watched him constantly, like she expected him to suddenly start beating her brother with a hockey stick or something, and Dorothy Sheppard was so unflaggingly polite that it made Rodney's teeth ache. John took them around visiting old friends and distant family, and Rodney made nice at breakfast and dinner and they didn't have sex at all because John's mother was a light sleeper and across the hall and now?
Now they were standing at Rodney's office door, for the trip to Nitobe Gardens he'd promised, and John was making frantically apologetic faces at him.
"Hey, I'm sorry, I got a call and have to fly down to deal with Ashlynn stuff," he said. "I just have time to drop them off, and did I say I'm sorry? I'll be back as soon as possible, I promise." He kissed Rodney swiftly, a brief brush of lips that made Rodney's body thrum futilely. "I'll owe you," he whispered.
"You already owe me," Rodney replied. "Go on. Get going." John grinned at him, leaned in for a second kiss and then he was gone, loping off towards the elevators.
Rodney closed his eyes briefly. Hell, he thought, is other people. Specifically, ones related to you by marriage. "Okay, then. The gardens?"
"They sound very nice," Dorothy said. "I've never actually been to them before, but I've always wanted to." Maggie just rolled her eyes.
"Well, come on. It's a bit of a walk, but that's how the campus works. You walk everywhere," Rodney said darkly. "At least it's not raining."
Nitobe was a pretty place, even at this time of year; late autumn sunlight filtered in through the tree branches and every blade, every stone was so precisely placed that it made him relax a bit. It was like a bastion against entropy. He just let them wander along the path and kept his mouth shut, because really?
The gardens spoke for themselves.
It was when they'd finished the gardens that he was in trouble. "So, uh. I'm done with office hours for the day, and no more classes, so ... is there anywhere you want to go?"
"The Art Gallery would be nice," Dorothy said after a few minutes thought.
"The Art Gallery it is, then," Rodney said. "And maybe we can grab some dinner along Robson after?" And then, thought Rodney, I can go home and scream into my pillow.
)0(
Driving or not, Rodney wished he'd ordered the goddamned drink special at Red Robin because the minute Maggie had gotten up to use the lady's room, Dorothy Sheppard had fixed him with a stare like a laser beam. He wondered if she was the one who'd taught it to his sister.
"I told John we could fight the will in court," she said after a moment. "We would have had a good case, you know."
"But not a sure one," Rodney said finally. "I think the company ... means a great deal to John." He thought, perhaps, that now would be a good time for that coastline swallowing earthquake everyone had been yammering on about for years now.
Dorothy nodded. "True enough. So I can understand why he got married. I can even understand why he married you. What I don't understand is why you married him," she said. "What do you get out of it?"
Rodney swallowed hard. "I get to help John. Any other reason is ... my business."
Dorothy stared at him a moment longer, and something softened in her gaze; for the first time since she'd arrived she looked like the woman he'd known all those summers as a kid. "All right, then," she agreed. "That's your business." She opened her menu. "Now, what would you recommend?"
"The onion rings," Rodney said. "I'd recommend the onion rings."
Dorothy smiled at him. "I love onion rings," she confessed. "I haven't had any since the kids were little, though."
Rodney nodded. "I'll share some with you, if you want?"
Dorothy shook her head. "No way. If I'm going to be bad, I'm going the whole nine-yards. I'm getting a whole order for myself."
"That's what Tums are for, " Rodney agreed. "Still. If I get the potato skins, maybe we could arrange some sort of trade?"
"I'm open to reasonable offers," Dorothy said, smiling a real smile at him for the first time since she'd arrived in Vancouver.
)0(
John drove his mother and sister back to the airport three days later, and then came home and jumped Rodney in the shower and did at least three things to him that were patently against the laws of physics.
"God. I'm still horny," John said, panting and damp and looking thoroughly debauched in the middle of their king-sized bed. "I didn't know you could get used to regular sex enough to actually go through withdrawal. Not that I'm complaining," he added hurriedly, rolling onto his side and gently reaching across to pinch Rodney's left nipple.
"Well, horny or not I'm 35 and I think maybe I need to take a little breather. And maybe another shower. And Gatorade would probably be a good idea, too. And maybe a splint," he said, a little ruefully. "Seriously, stop. I think I'm broken. And I have papers to mark."
John laughed and kissed his shoulder. "Hey, I want your input on a design thing later. It's to do with a new fuel cell technology we're attempting to integrate into one of our designs, and while I'm a decent engineer this is seriously complex stuff and there's something that just doesn't look right. If I show you the design specs later, maybe you can help me?"
Rodney nodded. "Yeah, sure. But I want spaghetti for dinner. With meatballs, not meat sauce." He got up and went into the ensuite and started the shower up again. "And don't come in here, because I have to get to my goddamn papers and you are just a big distraction!"
When he got out again, though, John was gone, and there were voices downstairs. Rodney quickly pulled on jeans and a T-shirt and padded down barefoot. He got halfway down the stairs when he heard John hiss, "Just get the hell out of here, why don't you?"
"C'mon, Johnny. You know you've missed me," and the voice was definitely a woman's voice. "When Alex told me you'd gone gay just to get the inheritance secured, I knew better than that. I know I broke your heart, Johnny, and I was wrong to do it, but I'm here now and ..."
"Hey, Rodney!" and John sounded, well, twitchy, and his eyes were frantic. "Rodney, this is Maya. Maya, this is Rodney."
"Hello," Rodney said, though he suspected it probably sounded a lot more like "fuck off" because every damn alarm in his body was ringing at the sight of her.
Maybe because she was really damn beautiful. He took in her long, honey-brown hair and big eyes and perfect smile and slim body with high, perky breasts. He was willing to bet that she didn't drool in her sleep or talk with her mouth full or need two giant mugs of coffee to remember English was her first language. And the way she was looking at him, like he'd been weighed and summarily dismissed, well.
That just made him mad.
Maya's smile grew impossibly wider, and showed far too many perfect teeth. Probably capped teeth, at that. "Hello. I know this is short notice, but I'm just in town for a little while and I was hoping I could borrow Johnny for an evening. We're ... old friends. I'm sure you wouldn't mind sparing him?"
Rodney tilted his head a little to the side. "Are you? Because I'm not. Sure I wouldn't mind. Although really, it's John's choice." He shifted, looked at John, whose gaze was sort of just bouncing between them in a way that would be funny if Rodney didn't suddenly feel sick to his stomach.
"Uh. Maybe I could just go out for a coffee. It's been ... a long time," he said finally. "Is that okay?"
Rodney shrugged. "It's totally up to you. I have papers to mark, after all." He started to walk past, head down to his office but John caught his hand, held it.
"Rodney," he said, and then blew out a frustrated breath. "Eat something. I don't want to come home and find you passed out at your desk, okay?" His thumb stroked gently over Rodney's knuckles, lingering on the ring finger.
"I'll eat something," Rodney said finally. "You? Eat nothing. She'll probably spike it with roofies." He knew his voice wasn't pitched low enough, but he didn't care.
Neither, apparently, did John, who snorted. "I'll keep that in mind."
He turned and went into his office, and sat staring at his desk, not even opening the file until long after he'd heard the front door close.
)0(
John's hands were gentle as they shook him awake. "You're drooling on your grad student's work," he said gently. "You didn't eat, did you?"
"I got engrossed," Rodney said, sitting up and scrubbing at his face. "How's Mary?"
"Maya's still a bitch," John said. "She dumped me when it became obvious I was going to be kicked out of the Air Force. I was still in the damned hospital. Now, c'mon. I'll make us some PBJ on toast or something."
"Why'd she come by tonight?" Rodney asked, getting up stiffly from his chair and following John down the hall and towards the kitchen.
"Why does Don Quixote tilt at windmills? She's always been friendly with Alex. Probably trying to test for chinks in the wall." John shrugged. "Also, I mean -- she dumps me, and two years later I'm married to a guy. I think maybe it was a boost to her ego." He dug into the fridge. "Bread or bagel? Stupid question," he said quickly, pulling out the bagels. Peanut butter and blackberry jam quickly followed onto the counter. Rodney watched as John sliced into the bagels and arranged them in the toaster oven.
"Has Alex been much of a problem?" Rodney asked.
John shrugged. "Some. He's trying to hold everything up legally in court. He's tried to get others to veto my ideas. He's snooped in my e-mail and he's been keylogging my computer at Ashlynn. He's even, apparently, tried to encourage government backers to threaten to leave rather than do business with me, considering how "risky" a homosexual is." John shrugged. "And I think there's an investigator going through our garbage now and again."
Rodney snorted it. "Well. Now Alex knows what sort of tea you drink and lube you use." He opened the peanut butter, took a finger full of it to eat. "Why haven't you been telling me about all this?" he asked when John had turned back to the toaster oven.
John dropped the hot bagels on the slightly chipped blue stoneware plate, then glanced over his shoulder at Rodney. "I didn't think you needed to worry. It's not what you signed on for."
"I know this arrangement is supposed to be ... practical for you, with some fringe benefits for both of us, but ... I had assumed I was your friend," Rodney said, a little stiffly.
"You are," John said, setting the plate down. "You are. I'm just ... not always the most talkative guy. At least not about the important stuff." He shrugged. "I guess if you want to know, just ask, okay?"
"Okay," Rodney said, and then he reached over and started smearing peanut butter and jam over a bagel. "So. I'm assuming Maya must be really good in bed, because she doesn't strike me as being particularly bright."
John choked. "Shit!" He looked grumpily at the glob of peanut butter on the front of his green button-down. "You know that was your outside voice, right?"
"I'm trying to figure out the attraction," Rodney said.
"She's good in bed," John said finally. "And her family was the right family and it made my dad happy and my family happy. Alex was really happy, too. Because I wasn't the only one she was good in bed with." He shrugged. "I guess she was hedging her bets."
"Ah," Rodney said. They ate in silence, and then they cleaned up the dishes and headed upstairs to bed. Halfway up the stairs John's fingers brushed against Rodney's, and by the time they reached the bedroom door they were holding hands.
)0(
Jeannie had a nice kitchen. Her table was big and the seats all had cushions and she actually used the cheezy placemats the girls had bought her three years ago. She usually had cookies in the cookie jar and her milk was never expired. All she needed was chocolate cake and maybe beer to make it heaven. "So. How's the Creep?" he asked, mouth half-full of cookies.
"Creeping. All over his secretary, mostly. And he's cancelled the girls' last two visits," Jeannie said. "He also doesn't think he should have to pay child support that actually, you know, supports his children." She smiled bitterly.
"Nice," Rodney said. "I can blow up his house if you like. I still have the plans for my old science fair project, and access to fissionable materials."
Jeannie pushed another cookie at him. "I'll keep that in mind." She sighed, and for the first time he could remember she looked every year of thirty-nine. She looked ... tired.
"Hey," he said, because, god, she looked like she might cry. "Hey, seriously. Don't do that. I know it sucks but I'm here, right? And I can do stuff, you know. Help. Money, I can do that. Or I can do yard work, or take the girls overnight or ... I mean, just because their dad sucks means doesn't mean they're abandoned or anything!" He reached out and grabbed her hands. "Or you, either, okay? Just ... don't cry. Please?"
Jeannie sniffed. "I don't cry," she said, scathingly, her eyes too bright. "But thanks. Maybe I'll take you up on your Y-chromosome. I need some help with some household repairs. D'you think you and John can handle the gutters sometime?"
Rodney shrugged. "John's away this weekend, but sure. I can climb up and clean them out. I might even manage to not break my neck. The girls can help."
Jeannie stood up and went over to rinse her cup out in the sink. "How long has he been down there? A week?"
Rodney shrugged. "Something like that. He's been back and forth a lot the last two months or so because he's trying to get the branch going up here, and he's working to get some sort of US government development contract and ... well, he's busy. Actually, it was sort of nice when I was marking exams, but now? The house is ... annoyingly quiet." He stood and carried his mug over the sink. "I should get going. Fenster and McFly are probably plotting world domination, or peeing or something."
Jeannie reached out and grabbed his shoulder and pulled him into a short, fierce hug. "You miss him," she said. "That's sweet." She said sweet like she had when they were kids, so that Rodney wasn't sure if it was a compliment or an insult. "I never expected you to do 'sweet'," she explained. "It's very disturbing."
"You're telling me?" Rodney said. He let himself hug her back, though, and then went out and brushed the smattering of wet snow off of his car while Jeannie watched from the porch. Just a few months more, and then he'd have that house to himself, and he'd be back to bitter, and he found that he couldn't stand the thought.
)0(
A soft whine at his elbow drew Rodney out his contemplation of the articles in his journal. "What?" McFly quirked his head at the tone, not believing it for a second. "Seriously. I'm not a dog person. I am a cat person cohabitating with a dog person, but that doesn't mean ... oooooooooof." He grimaced as McFly's front paws pushed into his stomach and then sighed as the oversized mutt stretched out on top of him. "You know," he said conversationally, "you're a lot like your owner. Encroaching." Nevertheless he started scratching McFly's ears and didn't pick up his journal again, just let the dog's body heat sink into his, and soft light from the fire lull him to almost-sleep.
The next thing he knew McFly was spring boarding off of his solar plexus, barking at the door. A moment later the bell rang. Rodney checked his wristwatch and swore. Who the hell showed up at eleven o'clock at night?
He opened the door, holding the dog by the collar. "Who the hell shows up at this time of night?"
"Alex Sheppard," the man on the doorstep said. "And it's pouring out here, do you think I could come in?"
"Not really, no," Rodney said. "I think you can tell me why you're here, and then go back to the airport. Unless you're here to go through my garbage personally? Because I could pack up the kitchen bag for you to take with you."
Alex grinned. "Johnny always did like them snappy. I just never knew he liked them male. Still. I think I have something that might interest you, and I think maybe it'd be better if we didn't do this on your front porch."
Rodney stood a little to the side and nodded. "Okay then. You have five minutes. Then I sic the cat on you."
Alex slid past him, pulling his impeccably tailored raincoat off and slinging it over his arm. "Nice place you guys have got here," he commented, looking around. "Although, overall, I guess neither of you are interior decorators. How refreshingly non-stereotypical."
"Four and a half-minutes," Rodney said. "Don't waste them being as ass."
Alex had the same colouring and build as John, but his hair seemed to lack the rumpled factor and where John was charming, Alex was just slightly oily. "Okay then." He pulled an envelope out of the interior pocket of his trench, and passed it over to Rodney. "I thought that the happy newly-wed might like to know what his husband is up to in California with all those 'business' meetings." He mimed air quotes.
Rodney rolled his eyes and then opened the envelope; inside were a dozen black and white photos, time stamped over several different days. All of them featured John and Maya. A couple were cozy dinners. A couple were parties. At least one was a pretty damned passionate-looking clinch. Rodney swallowed hard and felt his gut go cold.
You're an idiot, he thought. This was never anything real. Except, for him? It always had been. Still. He wouldn't give Alex the satisfaction. "This is supposed to be news?" he asked, in a tone that he'd used quite successfully to flay the wantonly stupid in his department. "Because if this is all you have to offer, then I think your time is up now."
Alex looked at him coolly. "Don't tell me that doesn't piss you off," he said. "What did he promise you anyway? What do you get out of this?"
Rodney smiled bitterly. "Nothing. Except John, which really? Is more than enough."
Alex shrugged back into his trench. "Yeah, it really looks like you've got him. Goodnight, Rodney. See you at the next family reunion. Or not." Rodney held the door open for him, and closed it very carefully behind, and then he took the pictures over to the battered coffee table and lay them out very carefully, touching each one.
Well.
It wasn't anything different than what he should have expected, but he had thought ...
He had thought wrong, apparently.
He packed the photos in together and then went to send an e-mail to his sister. Twenty minutes later he was packed and heading out the door.
)0(
The view from the cabin windows was almost postcard-pretty as the snow whirled and twisted and the shifting winds made the entire lake ripple . The power had gone out an hour ago, but Rodney had already built up the fire and made a thermos of coffee, so he was okay that way. He still had his spare laptop battery so he could keep working if he wanted.
The problem was that he didn't really want to. Next to him Fenster shifted in his sleep, his big, broad paws kneading at Rodney's hip. Instead he just watched the view and tried not to remember that for someone so damned smart, he'd done something so remarkably stupid.
He'd known he'd been setting himself up for something just like this, and he'd still gone ahead and done it.
Rodney closed his eyes against the memory of John: the way his hands held Rodney's head when they kissed, fingers kneading. The way his body felt, long and lean and hairy, when they were pressed tightly together. The way his mouth opened in a small "oh" of surprise each and every time he came. The way he smiled at Rodney, sleepily, in the morning, and how he touched him even when they weren't in bed, even when there wasn't anyone watching.
Rodney powered down the laptop and gave up any pretence of work. He hadn't gotten much done the last four days, and he doubted he was going to get anything done tonight, either. He scrubbed his eyes tiredly, then set the fire screen securely in place before pulling the futon out and throwing every blankets he had scrounged onto it. He stripped down to his boxers and T-shirt and crawled into the cocoon to try and sleep.
He woke up hours later to the sound of the front door, and a sudden blast of cool air. He heard John's voice, murmuring hello to the cat, and then a moment later cold hands were thrust under the covers and onto his belly.
"You're cold," Rodney said, his voice thick with sleep and something else he didn't want to identify.
"You're an idiot," John replied, his tone conversational. "I'd say that makes us even, except that you're really an exceptionally major idiot."
Rodney sighed. "I'm beginning to think that, yes."
Cold fingers pinched his hip. "Not for that reason. You're an idiot because you listened to my cousin Alex."
"Your cousin Alex had time-stamped photos, and you know? I'm pretty sure they weren't fakes," Rodney replied evenly. "You shouldn't have driven out here, the roads are terrible."
"Yet here I am," John said. "And yes, the photos were real, because Maya's father has some pull in the Defence Department. He's a general in the Air Force. He also adores his little girl. Still. The picture with the kiss? There was another one after, with me pulling back and waving my wedding ring at her, because, funnily enough, I think it's tacky to sleep with somebody when you're married to someone else."
"Now, you see, that's one of the many areas in which we differ, as I grew up thinking that's just what one did," Rodney said bitterly. "That's certainly what my father did. Repeatedly."
John's hand slipped around Rodney's waist, squeezing him in a one-armed hug. "That sucks. But I'm not your dad, which is good, because that's a whole lifetime of therapy right there. I'm married to you, so ergo, I'm not fucking anyone else, okay?"
"But you could quite easily fall in love with someone," Rodney said quietly.
"You know, being in love with you keeps me kind of busy, so I don't think you have to worry about that," John said quietly.
"You? What?" and John leaned in and kissed him. "You never said," he managed finally, in between soft, wet kisses.
"Jesus, Rodney. I had a crush on you when I was seven. I've been in love with you my whole life." He pulled back, and whacked Rodney upside the head. "You're just really, really stupid sometimes, you know?"
"Ow. Yes, let's resort to childish violence, why don't we? And do you really expect me to believe that you've been waiting your whole life for some contrived and convoluted opportunity to marry and bed me? Because as far as cunning plans go, that one sucks," Rodney said, sitting up fully now.
"No, I haven't been waiting around for you my whole life," John snapped back. "But when I did see you again, it just seemed like ... an opportunity. So I went home and flipped a coin and ... here we are."
Rodney just stared at him. "You make life-altering decisions based on a coin toss?" he said incredulously.
"Well, it worked didn't it?" John replied with some asperity. "I mean, we're here. Even though here is fucking cold."
Rodney lifted the edge of his blankets and John slipped under. "My sister finked me out, didn't she?"
"Yeah," John replied. "She's much smarter than you, apparently. And she also made me promise to clean her gutters. Rodney. I probably should have said this earlier, but ... I love you. And I've no intention of letting you go at the end of the year. And I'm actually thinking of trying to convince you to let me hire you, too, because there are angles on this government contract that I've finally nailed down that I think I need your help with. And did I mention I'm in love with you?"
Rodney leaned against him. "You mentioned that, yes. Forgive me if I'm a bit slow, it's just? I've not always had people falling all over themselves in love with me, you know? And I didn't have the best role models for happily ever after growing up, so. I suck at this."
John kissed his ear. "S'allright. Just ... trust me, okay? I just really need you to trust me."
Rodney shifted, looked at John, whose face shone pale and serious in the grey pre-dawn that was just starting to show outside. "Okay."
"Okay?" John asked, looking at him hard enough that Rodney could almost feel it on his skin.
"Okay," Rodney said.
"Good," John replied, leaning slowly in until his mouth caught Rodney's. The kiss was unlike any other; it was slow and soft and unhurried. It tasted a little like a promise. "I think we need to get naked now," John said softly, after a very long time, and Rodney nodded.
"Yeah, naked. Naked is good," he agreed, pulling his T-shirt off and shimmying out of his boxers. He stretched out on the futon and watched as John stood and stripped down to skin with quiet efficiency. John crawled back onto the bed and lay facing Rodney, and let his fingers slide down over his shoulder, his ribs, his hips and then back up again. Rodney reached out and mirrored the gesture before leaning in and kissing John, open-mouthed and hungry.
"I'm in love with you, too," he said quietly, whispering it against the side of John's neck. John made a noise low in his throat and pushed Rodney onto his back. A moment later he was poised over top, his hard dick resting in the crease of Rodney's groin.
"I love you sex. Cool," he said, and then they were kissing again, their bodies sliding sweetly, randomly against each other in slow, sleepy cadence. For the longest time there was only the sound of wind, wet snow hitting the windows and the slight creak of the futon as they necked and petted like teenagers. Eventually something in Rodney flared sharp and bright with hunger, and he found himself clutching at John's hips, then his ass, grinding up towards completion. He came hard and wet, gasping slightly, hips still moving spasmodically. John pressed his forehead into the juncture of Rodney's neck and shoulder and rutted against him, coming with a soft sigh just a minute or two later when Rodney's fingers brushed across the soft skin between his balls and ass.
"We're messy," Rodney said as John pulled the covers up over them a few minutes later.
"So what?" John said, snugging in close so that Rodney was spooned up behind him.
"No reason, just felt like I should say it," Rodney said. And then he whacked John upside the head. "That's for driving in bad weather. And for dating dumb women. And a dozen other things you will probably do as the years go by."
John reached back over his shoulder and grabbed Rodney's hand and pulled it to his heart. "No more hitting. Sleep now."
Rodney pressed up close behind John. "Okay."
And they lived (despite espionage, aliens, one nifty foray into space on sabotaged ship and a billion arguments over whose turn it was to vacuum) happily ever after.
END
The Convenient Husband, part 2.
)0(
Four weeks later he was teaching his first set of classes, and oh, god. Undergrads.
By the time he got home he was pretty sure he wasn't going to survive the first week. "Why am I doing this again?" he asked, standing in the doorway to John's home office. He'd chosen the room that got the most late day sun; it was painted a dark taupe, the trim the same chocolate brown as the rest of the house. The wall opposite the window had a six-foot framed poster of Johnny Cash, and the rest of the walls were dotted with hastily taped up blueprints and design specs. It looked warm and lived in and for some reason appallingly homey.
Perhaps because it reminded Rodney strongly of John, and that connection was one he didn't want to consider too closely.
"Because otherwise you'll have to work with another generation of stupid people who are wrong, wrong, so very wrong?" John asked, without turning away from the computer, completely oblivious to the small panic attack that bubbled up and then subsided again in Rodney's chest.
"That's right. That's what I was thinking." Rodney sighed. "What's for dinner?"
"Hrm. Chicken breasts. Do you want 'em stir-fry or barbecue?" John closed the e-mail file he'd been reading and turned to face Rodney. "My grandmother's lawyers are satisfied I've met the terms of the will; I should see the money after one year of marriage, and I've already been allowed to vote with her shares. My cousin is, as I expected, challenging the will. I've already heard from his lawyer, and I expect he'll probably have a detective up here nosing around. Oh, and my mother and little sister are coming to stay for a couple of nights. I think they're a little pissed off they didn't get invited to the wedding."
"Pissed off mother-in-law. Yay," Rodney said. "Stir fry. I'll set table, and help with the vegetables." John stood up, pulled him close in a one-armed hug and kissed him affectionately on the side of the mouth. If he closed his eyes he could make himself believe it was real. He kept his eyes open. "I'm not being nice," Rodney said. "You just cut the vegetables too big, and they never cook through properly."
"I like 'em crunchy," John said. "Al dente." He smacked Rodney gently on the ass. "Things are going to start getting ... busy soon. Work's speeding up. And family. And Alex. You okay with that?" His fingers crept up under Rodney's olive green jersey knit shirt, traced slow circles on the small of his back.
"It's what I signed on for," Rodney said, breath hitching.
"Good," John said, and he angled his head, leaned in and breathed on the side of Rodney's neck. "How hungry are you?"
"Starving," Rodney said.
"Good," John said again, and then they were kissing, at four o'clock in the afternoon, surrounded by September sunshine in a room with dozens of blueprints taped up all over the walls.
)0(
McFly barking at the front door told Rodney that John was home with his mother and sister from the airport, so he dried his hands off on a tea towel and went out to help with cases. His mother-in-law was tall, with silver in her dark hair and a Jones New York sort of look to her. She smiled politely at him. "Hello, Rodney. It's been a long time."
"Yeah. Almost twenty years," he agreed. "Hey, Maggie." John's little sister wasn't really all that little anymore, but Rodney remembered her as a chubby-legged toddler, trying to follow them around when he'd been thirteen. "You're a lot taller than the last time I saw you."
Her dark hair was short, in a razor-edged pixie-cut, and she wore blue mascara. Her mouth was painted in a scarlet cupid's bow. She looked at him a moment, her expression inscrutable. "Yeah, I'm potty trained now, too." She handed him the handle to her big case and kept her carry-on. "So. You guys have beer, right? Because I want beer, burgers and a bubble bath."
Rodney snorted. "There's beer. The barbecue is warming now, so burgers could be in your future, though the rest of us are having steak." He lifted her case up the three steps to their front stoop. "You might be on your own for the bubbles, though. They make me itchy. Check with John." He pushed the front door open, shoving McFly back with his foot. Fenster was at the top of the stairs, viewing them all with suspicion.
"How was your trip?" he asked, setting the case down.
"It sucked," Maggie replied, setting her carry-on down. "They don't circulate the damned air anymore and this guy was sneezing the whole trip. We'll probably all die of SARS or something. Now. Bathroom?" Rodney pointed to the end of the hall. "Just to your left." He turned to see Mrs. Sheppard standing contemplatively in the hall, peering into the great room.
"Well. You certainly have enough books. And gadgets. And dear God, how many gaming systems do two grown men need?"
"Yeah," said John. "Well. I tried pressing flowers, but Rodney's allergic." He pointed up the stairs. "Your room's up there." He started lugging her case upstairs. "You do know you're just staying a week, right?" was the last thing Rodney heard before he wheeled Maggie's case down the hall to his office. They'd put the futon down into a bed, and for the next week he'd work either up in John's space, or in his office at UBC.
"Nice," Maggie said at his shoulder. "I've never seen a ten-inch thick futon before. That's pretty swank.
"It's from my last place," Rodney said. "I only had the one spare room, so it was both office and guest room."
They stood there for a few minutes, just looking at each other. Finally, Maggie said, "You hurt my brother, I'll gut you with my bare hands."
"Tough words, coming from an English major," Rodney said. "You wanna go now, get it out of our systems?" His heart was beating too fast, and his gut was churning and he knew he sounded like an asshole.
Maggie sat down on the futon, hands clenched into fists. "I remember you, a little, from when I was a kid. You always made a stink about having a little kid around. You also always slipped me candy and bought me the stupid water wings. I remember that, so I'm going to give you a chance. But John? Has had enough shit, and if you hurt him, I will kill you." She looked up and her eyes were the same hazel-green as her brother's.
"If I hurt him, I'll stand still and let you," Rodney said finally. "I have to go get the meat on the barbecue. Burger or steak?"
"Steak," Maggie said. "Is there time for me to have a shower? I want to wash the SARS off."
"Feel free," Rodney said.
)0(
So far the visit had been ... painfully awkward. Maggie watched him constantly, like she expected him to suddenly start beating her brother with a hockey stick or something, and Dorothy Sheppard was so unflaggingly polite that it made Rodney's teeth ache. John took them around visiting old friends and distant family, and Rodney made nice at breakfast and dinner and they didn't have sex at all because John's mother was a light sleeper and across the hall and now?
Now they were standing at Rodney's office door, for the trip to Nitobe Gardens he'd promised, and John was making frantically apologetic faces at him.
"Hey, I'm sorry, I got a call and have to fly down to deal with Ashlynn stuff," he said. "I just have time to drop them off, and did I say I'm sorry? I'll be back as soon as possible, I promise." He kissed Rodney swiftly, a brief brush of lips that made Rodney's body thrum futilely. "I'll owe you," he whispered.
"You already owe me," Rodney replied. "Go on. Get going." John grinned at him, leaned in for a second kiss and then he was gone, loping off towards the elevators.
Rodney closed his eyes briefly. Hell, he thought, is other people. Specifically, ones related to you by marriage. "Okay, then. The gardens?"
"They sound very nice," Dorothy said. "I've never actually been to them before, but I've always wanted to." Maggie just rolled her eyes.
"Well, come on. It's a bit of a walk, but that's how the campus works. You walk everywhere," Rodney said darkly. "At least it's not raining."
Nitobe was a pretty place, even at this time of year; late autumn sunlight filtered in through the tree branches and every blade, every stone was so precisely placed that it made him relax a bit. It was like a bastion against entropy. He just let them wander along the path and kept his mouth shut, because really?
The gardens spoke for themselves.
It was when they'd finished the gardens that he was in trouble. "So, uh. I'm done with office hours for the day, and no more classes, so ... is there anywhere you want to go?"
"The Art Gallery would be nice," Dorothy said after a few minutes thought.
"The Art Gallery it is, then," Rodney said. "And maybe we can grab some dinner along Robson after?" And then, thought Rodney, I can go home and scream into my pillow.
)0(
Driving or not, Rodney wished he'd ordered the goddamned drink special at Red Robin because the minute Maggie had gotten up to use the lady's room, Dorothy Sheppard had fixed him with a stare like a laser beam. He wondered if she was the one who'd taught it to his sister.
"I told John we could fight the will in court," she said after a moment. "We would have had a good case, you know."
"But not a sure one," Rodney said finally. "I think the company ... means a great deal to John." He thought, perhaps, that now would be a good time for that coastline swallowing earthquake everyone had been yammering on about for years now.
Dorothy nodded. "True enough. So I can understand why he got married. I can even understand why he married you. What I don't understand is why you married him," she said. "What do you get out of it?"
Rodney swallowed hard. "I get to help John. Any other reason is ... my business."
Dorothy stared at him a moment longer, and something softened in her gaze; for the first time since she'd arrived she looked like the woman he'd known all those summers as a kid. "All right, then," she agreed. "That's your business." She opened her menu. "Now, what would you recommend?"
"The onion rings," Rodney said. "I'd recommend the onion rings."
Dorothy smiled at him. "I love onion rings," she confessed. "I haven't had any since the kids were little, though."
Rodney nodded. "I'll share some with you, if you want?"
Dorothy shook her head. "No way. If I'm going to be bad, I'm going the whole nine-yards. I'm getting a whole order for myself."
"That's what Tums are for, " Rodney agreed. "Still. If I get the potato skins, maybe we could arrange some sort of trade?"
"I'm open to reasonable offers," Dorothy said, smiling a real smile at him for the first time since she'd arrived in Vancouver.
)0(
John drove his mother and sister back to the airport three days later, and then came home and jumped Rodney in the shower and did at least three things to him that were patently against the laws of physics.
"God. I'm still horny," John said, panting and damp and looking thoroughly debauched in the middle of their king-sized bed. "I didn't know you could get used to regular sex enough to actually go through withdrawal. Not that I'm complaining," he added hurriedly, rolling onto his side and gently reaching across to pinch Rodney's left nipple.
"Well, horny or not I'm 35 and I think maybe I need to take a little breather. And maybe another shower. And Gatorade would probably be a good idea, too. And maybe a splint," he said, a little ruefully. "Seriously, stop. I think I'm broken. And I have papers to mark."
John laughed and kissed his shoulder. "Hey, I want your input on a design thing later. It's to do with a new fuel cell technology we're attempting to integrate into one of our designs, and while I'm a decent engineer this is seriously complex stuff and there's something that just doesn't look right. If I show you the design specs later, maybe you can help me?"
Rodney nodded. "Yeah, sure. But I want spaghetti for dinner. With meatballs, not meat sauce." He got up and went into the ensuite and started the shower up again. "And don't come in here, because I have to get to my goddamn papers and you are just a big distraction!"
When he got out again, though, John was gone, and there were voices downstairs. Rodney quickly pulled on jeans and a T-shirt and padded down barefoot. He got halfway down the stairs when he heard John hiss, "Just get the hell out of here, why don't you?"
"C'mon, Johnny. You know you've missed me," and the voice was definitely a woman's voice. "When Alex told me you'd gone gay just to get the inheritance secured, I knew better than that. I know I broke your heart, Johnny, and I was wrong to do it, but I'm here now and ..."
"Hey, Rodney!" and John sounded, well, twitchy, and his eyes were frantic. "Rodney, this is Maya. Maya, this is Rodney."
"Hello," Rodney said, though he suspected it probably sounded a lot more like "fuck off" because every damn alarm in his body was ringing at the sight of her.
Maybe because she was really damn beautiful. He took in her long, honey-brown hair and big eyes and perfect smile and slim body with high, perky breasts. He was willing to bet that she didn't drool in her sleep or talk with her mouth full or need two giant mugs of coffee to remember English was her first language. And the way she was looking at him, like he'd been weighed and summarily dismissed, well.
That just made him mad.
Maya's smile grew impossibly wider, and showed far too many perfect teeth. Probably capped teeth, at that. "Hello. I know this is short notice, but I'm just in town for a little while and I was hoping I could borrow Johnny for an evening. We're ... old friends. I'm sure you wouldn't mind sparing him?"
Rodney tilted his head a little to the side. "Are you? Because I'm not. Sure I wouldn't mind. Although really, it's John's choice." He shifted, looked at John, whose gaze was sort of just bouncing between them in a way that would be funny if Rodney didn't suddenly feel sick to his stomach.
"Uh. Maybe I could just go out for a coffee. It's been ... a long time," he said finally. "Is that okay?"
Rodney shrugged. "It's totally up to you. I have papers to mark, after all." He started to walk past, head down to his office but John caught his hand, held it.
"Rodney," he said, and then blew out a frustrated breath. "Eat something. I don't want to come home and find you passed out at your desk, okay?" His thumb stroked gently over Rodney's knuckles, lingering on the ring finger.
"I'll eat something," Rodney said finally. "You? Eat nothing. She'll probably spike it with roofies." He knew his voice wasn't pitched low enough, but he didn't care.
Neither, apparently, did John, who snorted. "I'll keep that in mind."
He turned and went into his office, and sat staring at his desk, not even opening the file until long after he'd heard the front door close.
)0(
John's hands were gentle as they shook him awake. "You're drooling on your grad student's work," he said gently. "You didn't eat, did you?"
"I got engrossed," Rodney said, sitting up and scrubbing at his face. "How's Mary?"
"Maya's still a bitch," John said. "She dumped me when it became obvious I was going to be kicked out of the Air Force. I was still in the damned hospital. Now, c'mon. I'll make us some PBJ on toast or something."
"Why'd she come by tonight?" Rodney asked, getting up stiffly from his chair and following John down the hall and towards the kitchen.
"Why does Don Quixote tilt at windmills? She's always been friendly with Alex. Probably trying to test for chinks in the wall." John shrugged. "Also, I mean -- she dumps me, and two years later I'm married to a guy. I think maybe it was a boost to her ego." He dug into the fridge. "Bread or bagel? Stupid question," he said quickly, pulling out the bagels. Peanut butter and blackberry jam quickly followed onto the counter. Rodney watched as John sliced into the bagels and arranged them in the toaster oven.
"Has Alex been much of a problem?" Rodney asked.
John shrugged. "Some. He's trying to hold everything up legally in court. He's tried to get others to veto my ideas. He's snooped in my e-mail and he's been keylogging my computer at Ashlynn. He's even, apparently, tried to encourage government backers to threaten to leave rather than do business with me, considering how "risky" a homosexual is." John shrugged. "And I think there's an investigator going through our garbage now and again."
Rodney snorted it. "Well. Now Alex knows what sort of tea you drink and lube you use." He opened the peanut butter, took a finger full of it to eat. "Why haven't you been telling me about all this?" he asked when John had turned back to the toaster oven.
John dropped the hot bagels on the slightly chipped blue stoneware plate, then glanced over his shoulder at Rodney. "I didn't think you needed to worry. It's not what you signed on for."
"I know this arrangement is supposed to be ... practical for you, with some fringe benefits for both of us, but ... I had assumed I was your friend," Rodney said, a little stiffly.
"You are," John said, setting the plate down. "You are. I'm just ... not always the most talkative guy. At least not about the important stuff." He shrugged. "I guess if you want to know, just ask, okay?"
"Okay," Rodney said, and then he reached over and started smearing peanut butter and jam over a bagel. "So. I'm assuming Maya must be really good in bed, because she doesn't strike me as being particularly bright."
John choked. "Shit!" He looked grumpily at the glob of peanut butter on the front of his green button-down. "You know that was your outside voice, right?"
"I'm trying to figure out the attraction," Rodney said.
"She's good in bed," John said finally. "And her family was the right family and it made my dad happy and my family happy. Alex was really happy, too. Because I wasn't the only one she was good in bed with." He shrugged. "I guess she was hedging her bets."
"Ah," Rodney said. They ate in silence, and then they cleaned up the dishes and headed upstairs to bed. Halfway up the stairs John's fingers brushed against Rodney's, and by the time they reached the bedroom door they were holding hands.
)0(
Jeannie had a nice kitchen. Her table was big and the seats all had cushions and she actually used the cheezy placemats the girls had bought her three years ago. She usually had cookies in the cookie jar and her milk was never expired. All she needed was chocolate cake and maybe beer to make it heaven. "So. How's the Creep?" he asked, mouth half-full of cookies.
"Creeping. All over his secretary, mostly. And he's cancelled the girls' last two visits," Jeannie said. "He also doesn't think he should have to pay child support that actually, you know, supports his children." She smiled bitterly.
"Nice," Rodney said. "I can blow up his house if you like. I still have the plans for my old science fair project, and access to fissionable materials."
Jeannie pushed another cookie at him. "I'll keep that in mind." She sighed, and for the first time he could remember she looked every year of thirty-nine. She looked ... tired.
"Hey," he said, because, god, she looked like she might cry. "Hey, seriously. Don't do that. I know it sucks but I'm here, right? And I can do stuff, you know. Help. Money, I can do that. Or I can do yard work, or take the girls overnight or ... I mean, just because their dad sucks means doesn't mean they're abandoned or anything!" He reached out and grabbed her hands. "Or you, either, okay? Just ... don't cry. Please?"
Jeannie sniffed. "I don't cry," she said, scathingly, her eyes too bright. "But thanks. Maybe I'll take you up on your Y-chromosome. I need some help with some household repairs. D'you think you and John can handle the gutters sometime?"
Rodney shrugged. "John's away this weekend, but sure. I can climb up and clean them out. I might even manage to not break my neck. The girls can help."
Jeannie stood up and went over to rinse her cup out in the sink. "How long has he been down there? A week?"
Rodney shrugged. "Something like that. He's been back and forth a lot the last two months or so because he's trying to get the branch going up here, and he's working to get some sort of US government development contract and ... well, he's busy. Actually, it was sort of nice when I was marking exams, but now? The house is ... annoyingly quiet." He stood and carried his mug over the sink. "I should get going. Fenster and McFly are probably plotting world domination, or peeing or something."
Jeannie reached out and grabbed his shoulder and pulled him into a short, fierce hug. "You miss him," she said. "That's sweet." She said sweet like she had when they were kids, so that Rodney wasn't sure if it was a compliment or an insult. "I never expected you to do 'sweet'," she explained. "It's very disturbing."
"You're telling me?" Rodney said. He let himself hug her back, though, and then went out and brushed the smattering of wet snow off of his car while Jeannie watched from the porch. Just a few months more, and then he'd have that house to himself, and he'd be back to bitter, and he found that he couldn't stand the thought.
)0(
A soft whine at his elbow drew Rodney out his contemplation of the articles in his journal. "What?" McFly quirked his head at the tone, not believing it for a second. "Seriously. I'm not a dog person. I am a cat person cohabitating with a dog person, but that doesn't mean ... oooooooooof." He grimaced as McFly's front paws pushed into his stomach and then sighed as the oversized mutt stretched out on top of him. "You know," he said conversationally, "you're a lot like your owner. Encroaching." Nevertheless he started scratching McFly's ears and didn't pick up his journal again, just let the dog's body heat sink into his, and soft light from the fire lull him to almost-sleep.
The next thing he knew McFly was spring boarding off of his solar plexus, barking at the door. A moment later the bell rang. Rodney checked his wristwatch and swore. Who the hell showed up at eleven o'clock at night?
He opened the door, holding the dog by the collar. "Who the hell shows up at this time of night?"
"Alex Sheppard," the man on the doorstep said. "And it's pouring out here, do you think I could come in?"
"Not really, no," Rodney said. "I think you can tell me why you're here, and then go back to the airport. Unless you're here to go through my garbage personally? Because I could pack up the kitchen bag for you to take with you."
Alex grinned. "Johnny always did like them snappy. I just never knew he liked them male. Still. I think I have something that might interest you, and I think maybe it'd be better if we didn't do this on your front porch."
Rodney stood a little to the side and nodded. "Okay then. You have five minutes. Then I sic the cat on you."
Alex slid past him, pulling his impeccably tailored raincoat off and slinging it over his arm. "Nice place you guys have got here," he commented, looking around. "Although, overall, I guess neither of you are interior decorators. How refreshingly non-stereotypical."
"Four and a half-minutes," Rodney said. "Don't waste them being as ass."
Alex had the same colouring and build as John, but his hair seemed to lack the rumpled factor and where John was charming, Alex was just slightly oily. "Okay then." He pulled an envelope out of the interior pocket of his trench, and passed it over to Rodney. "I thought that the happy newly-wed might like to know what his husband is up to in California with all those 'business' meetings." He mimed air quotes.
Rodney rolled his eyes and then opened the envelope; inside were a dozen black and white photos, time stamped over several different days. All of them featured John and Maya. A couple were cozy dinners. A couple were parties. At least one was a pretty damned passionate-looking clinch. Rodney swallowed hard and felt his gut go cold.
You're an idiot, he thought. This was never anything real. Except, for him? It always had been. Still. He wouldn't give Alex the satisfaction. "This is supposed to be news?" he asked, in a tone that he'd used quite successfully to flay the wantonly stupid in his department. "Because if this is all you have to offer, then I think your time is up now."
Alex looked at him coolly. "Don't tell me that doesn't piss you off," he said. "What did he promise you anyway? What do you get out of this?"
Rodney smiled bitterly. "Nothing. Except John, which really? Is more than enough."
Alex shrugged back into his trench. "Yeah, it really looks like you've got him. Goodnight, Rodney. See you at the next family reunion. Or not." Rodney held the door open for him, and closed it very carefully behind, and then he took the pictures over to the battered coffee table and lay them out very carefully, touching each one.
Well.
It wasn't anything different than what he should have expected, but he had thought ...
He had thought wrong, apparently.
He packed the photos in together and then went to send an e-mail to his sister. Twenty minutes later he was packed and heading out the door.
)0(
The view from the cabin windows was almost postcard-pretty as the snow whirled and twisted and the shifting winds made the entire lake ripple . The power had gone out an hour ago, but Rodney had already built up the fire and made a thermos of coffee, so he was okay that way. He still had his spare laptop battery so he could keep working if he wanted.
The problem was that he didn't really want to. Next to him Fenster shifted in his sleep, his big, broad paws kneading at Rodney's hip. Instead he just watched the view and tried not to remember that for someone so damned smart, he'd done something so remarkably stupid.
He'd known he'd been setting himself up for something just like this, and he'd still gone ahead and done it.
Rodney closed his eyes against the memory of John: the way his hands held Rodney's head when they kissed, fingers kneading. The way his body felt, long and lean and hairy, when they were pressed tightly together. The way his mouth opened in a small "oh" of surprise each and every time he came. The way he smiled at Rodney, sleepily, in the morning, and how he touched him even when they weren't in bed, even when there wasn't anyone watching.
Rodney powered down the laptop and gave up any pretence of work. He hadn't gotten much done the last four days, and he doubted he was going to get anything done tonight, either. He scrubbed his eyes tiredly, then set the fire screen securely in place before pulling the futon out and throwing every blankets he had scrounged onto it. He stripped down to his boxers and T-shirt and crawled into the cocoon to try and sleep.
He woke up hours later to the sound of the front door, and a sudden blast of cool air. He heard John's voice, murmuring hello to the cat, and then a moment later cold hands were thrust under the covers and onto his belly.
"You're cold," Rodney said, his voice thick with sleep and something else he didn't want to identify.
"You're an idiot," John replied, his tone conversational. "I'd say that makes us even, except that you're really an exceptionally major idiot."
Rodney sighed. "I'm beginning to think that, yes."
Cold fingers pinched his hip. "Not for that reason. You're an idiot because you listened to my cousin Alex."
"Your cousin Alex had time-stamped photos, and you know? I'm pretty sure they weren't fakes," Rodney replied evenly. "You shouldn't have driven out here, the roads are terrible."
"Yet here I am," John said. "And yes, the photos were real, because Maya's father has some pull in the Defence Department. He's a general in the Air Force. He also adores his little girl. Still. The picture with the kiss? There was another one after, with me pulling back and waving my wedding ring at her, because, funnily enough, I think it's tacky to sleep with somebody when you're married to someone else."
"Now, you see, that's one of the many areas in which we differ, as I grew up thinking that's just what one did," Rodney said bitterly. "That's certainly what my father did. Repeatedly."
John's hand slipped around Rodney's waist, squeezing him in a one-armed hug. "That sucks. But I'm not your dad, which is good, because that's a whole lifetime of therapy right there. I'm married to you, so ergo, I'm not fucking anyone else, okay?"
"But you could quite easily fall in love with someone," Rodney said quietly.
"You know, being in love with you keeps me kind of busy, so I don't think you have to worry about that," John said quietly.
"You? What?" and John leaned in and kissed him. "You never said," he managed finally, in between soft, wet kisses.
"Jesus, Rodney. I had a crush on you when I was seven. I've been in love with you my whole life." He pulled back, and whacked Rodney upside the head. "You're just really, really stupid sometimes, you know?"
"Ow. Yes, let's resort to childish violence, why don't we? And do you really expect me to believe that you've been waiting your whole life for some contrived and convoluted opportunity to marry and bed me? Because as far as cunning plans go, that one sucks," Rodney said, sitting up fully now.
"No, I haven't been waiting around for you my whole life," John snapped back. "But when I did see you again, it just seemed like ... an opportunity. So I went home and flipped a coin and ... here we are."
Rodney just stared at him. "You make life-altering decisions based on a coin toss?" he said incredulously.
"Well, it worked didn't it?" John replied with some asperity. "I mean, we're here. Even though here is fucking cold."
Rodney lifted the edge of his blankets and John slipped under. "My sister finked me out, didn't she?"
"Yeah," John replied. "She's much smarter than you, apparently. And she also made me promise to clean her gutters. Rodney. I probably should have said this earlier, but ... I love you. And I've no intention of letting you go at the end of the year. And I'm actually thinking of trying to convince you to let me hire you, too, because there are angles on this government contract that I've finally nailed down that I think I need your help with. And did I mention I'm in love with you?"
Rodney leaned against him. "You mentioned that, yes. Forgive me if I'm a bit slow, it's just? I've not always had people falling all over themselves in love with me, you know? And I didn't have the best role models for happily ever after growing up, so. I suck at this."
John kissed his ear. "S'allright. Just ... trust me, okay? I just really need you to trust me."
Rodney shifted, looked at John, whose face shone pale and serious in the grey pre-dawn that was just starting to show outside. "Okay."
"Okay?" John asked, looking at him hard enough that Rodney could almost feel it on his skin.
"Okay," Rodney said.
"Good," John replied, leaning slowly in until his mouth caught Rodney's. The kiss was unlike any other; it was slow and soft and unhurried. It tasted a little like a promise. "I think we need to get naked now," John said softly, after a very long time, and Rodney nodded.
"Yeah, naked. Naked is good," he agreed, pulling his T-shirt off and shimmying out of his boxers. He stretched out on the futon and watched as John stood and stripped down to skin with quiet efficiency. John crawled back onto the bed and lay facing Rodney, and let his fingers slide down over his shoulder, his ribs, his hips and then back up again. Rodney reached out and mirrored the gesture before leaning in and kissing John, open-mouthed and hungry.
"I'm in love with you, too," he said quietly, whispering it against the side of John's neck. John made a noise low in his throat and pushed Rodney onto his back. A moment later he was poised over top, his hard dick resting in the crease of Rodney's groin.
"I love you sex. Cool," he said, and then they were kissing again, their bodies sliding sweetly, randomly against each other in slow, sleepy cadence. For the longest time there was only the sound of wind, wet snow hitting the windows and the slight creak of the futon as they necked and petted like teenagers. Eventually something in Rodney flared sharp and bright with hunger, and he found himself clutching at John's hips, then his ass, grinding up towards completion. He came hard and wet, gasping slightly, hips still moving spasmodically. John pressed his forehead into the juncture of Rodney's neck and shoulder and rutted against him, coming with a soft sigh just a minute or two later when Rodney's fingers brushed across the soft skin between his balls and ass.
"We're messy," Rodney said as John pulled the covers up over them a few minutes later.
"So what?" John said, snugging in close so that Rodney was spooned up behind him.
"No reason, just felt like I should say it," Rodney said. And then he whacked John upside the head. "That's for driving in bad weather. And for dating dumb women. And a dozen other things you will probably do as the years go by."
John reached back over his shoulder and grabbed Rodney's hand and pulled it to his heart. "No more hitting. Sleep now."
Rodney pressed up close behind John. "Okay."
And they lived (despite espionage, aliens, one nifty foray into space on sabotaged ship and a billion arguments over whose turn it was to vacuum) happily ever after.
END