Title: From Tiny Acorns...
Chapter: 4/5
Pairing: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Challenge: #4 Intimacy
Rating: PG-13
Words: 345
Feedback/Concrit: darkhavens @ slashverse.com
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. No harm, no foul, no money made.
Summary: Rodney and John share quiet moments.
Notes: Written for
stagesoflove Challenge #4 - 'Intimacy'.#1 'Attraction', #2 'Romance', #3 'Passion'.
Also posted here.
Physically, the intimacy was there almost from the start, though usually neither of them was the touchy-feely type.
When John was sitting in the chair in Antarctica, following Rodney's - think this, think that - orders, or trying to, Rodney's hand would brush John's shoulder, his wrist, or knee or ankle, as he bounced around collating all available data.
When Rodney spent too many hours hunched over notes and keyboard, muttering to himself, mainlining coffee, chewing power bars, John would wander in bearing apple juice and sandwiches, and he'd nudge and lean and poke until he'd grabbed McKay's attention.
The more time they spent together, the more intimate they became. They shared their secrets and their dreams between the bouts of terror.
Their first kisses were compared in their first prison cell; first blowjobs were discussed in their second. By the end of the third month, they'd talked their way through most positions and had made a shock discovery or two about each other.
The first time they shared a blanket while awaiting rescue, Rodney faded out on John's left shoulder. His dreaming fingers practiced chords, scales and arpeggios on John's upper thigh and lower back. John didn't sleep.
The first time Rodney held John's head in his lap, pressing down to staunch the flow of blood from two deep shoulder wounds, he made John tell him why he loved to fly so much.
Rodney wasn't expecting John to talk in terms of sex, of heart-pounding desire, the reckless freefall of orgasm. He certainly wasn't expecting the cock/stick comparison, not when the cock John was describing wasn't his own.
John nuzzled into Rodney's swelling groin and chuckled softly - Rodney blamed the blood loss.
"Dammit, Rodney, you certainly pick the damnedest times. I haven't got the strength right now to fly you. Sorry."
The words came out soft and fuzzy around the edges, and before Rodney even had the chance to formulate a response, John was snoring softly in his lap. But that was fine, that was A-OK, because Rodney knew they understood each other.