Almost Classy since 1959

I wrote this for mcsmooch but after four attempts, I couldn't get it to format correctly and I had no IDEA what I did wrong. So I give up because I'm easily frustrated (and also stoopid when it comes to lj code). :(


TITLE: The One
PAIRING: McKay/Sheppard
WORD COUNT: 825 SPOILERS: None
NOTES: When he’s done, John’s panting and feeling a little insane and of course, that’s when Rodney grabs him, just hauls him in and holds him close before John can even think of running.

Thanks to lamardeuse for a quick look.

***

John doesn’t turn away from his game of FreeCell when Rodney barges into his quarters. He’s been expecting this, has been since this morning. His body reacts to Rodney’s presence the way it always does, with affection and exasperation and a spike of lust. Then, he remembers and it all goes away, hidden behind a thriving anger.

“Okay, that’s it. This has gone on long enough, I’ve had it.”

“Can I do something for you, McKay?”

Rodney appears at his side, his face red. “Oh. That’s just great. You’re calling me McKay again?”

John bookmarks his game and half turns in his desk chair, giving Rodney a wise-ass smile. “That’s your name, isn’t it?”

“It’s so not fair that you can look that pretty when you’re being a jerk.”

“Let’s try to keep this on an adult level, shall we?”

“Go find me another adult and I will.”

“You’ll still need one more,” John mutters under his breath.

“What was that?”

John narrows his eyes. “That was nothing. And I’m tired so why don’t you beat it?”

Rodney blinks and deflates a little. “Oh. You mean – I can’t stay?” Rodney’s voice is small and hesitant and for a second, just a second, John feels like a bastard, knowing he has the power to make Rodney McKay sound so uncertain.

It still doesn’t stop him from venting a little more because dammit, he’s entitled.

“What do you think?” John growls. It’s not an act. John is still pissed to a degree that surprises him. He doesn’t do this. Never has, not even with his wife. But he does a lot of stuff with Rodney that he’s never done before so this is just par for the course.

Rodney puts his data pad down hard on the desk. And John melts just a little, because Rodney’s blue eyes look bloodshot, tired and a little sad. “Look, I said I was sorry. What more do you want?”

John looks up at the goose egg on Rodney’s forehead and he feels it again, that slow burn of anger. “You look like an idiot. Shouldn’t it have gone down by now?”

“I’m too busy to keep ice on it. Come on, haven’t I been punished enough, walking around like this, with everybody knowing what happened? This is just piling on. What do you want from me?”

John swallows hard. What does he want exactly? He knows – in his head, there’s a whole litany of things he wants from Rodney. But they aren’t the kinds of things that a guy asks of another guy, not when one of the guys is him.

While he’s busy arguing with himself, Rodney moves in close, close enough that John can feel the warmth of his big, solid body. He smells good, too, which is why John almost misses Rodney’s low, soft words. “Look, as flattering as your jealousy is – ”

“Jealous?” John flinches and his face gets hot. “Who said anything about being jealous? I’m just pissed that I’m sleeping with somebody who was so enthralled by the sight of Sam Carter’s ass that they walked straight into a wall!”

When he’s done, John’s panting and feeling a little insane and of course, that’s when Rodney grabs him, just pulls him up, hauls him in and holds him close before John can even think of running.

And when it comes down to it, John doesn’t want to run because he’s where he wants to be. Because despite the fact that he is sleeping with somebody who was so busy looking at Carter bent over an ancient console that he slammed into a wall and knocked himself back on his own pretty nice ass, Rodney’s it for him. John wants this. He never belonged anyplace until he found Atlantis – and Rodney.

“Asshole,” John whispers against Rodney’s warm neck, relaxing against him, wrapping both arms around him, feeling Rodney’s heart beating against his own.

“Guilty as charged. But it was just a reflex, I swear. It was there; I looked. Because really, this?” His big hands slide down to John’s ass, rubbing and squeezing until John is a squirming mass of need.

“And this?” he adds, bringing one hand around to give John’s aching cock a squeeze. Then, just as John’s ready to go for the buttons on Rodney’s BDUs, Rodney takes his face in both hands and kisses him tenderly, slowly, with intent, with all that stuff that’s right there but that they never seem to talk about.

“Sam's got nothing on this,” Rodney whispers against John’s cheek. John shivers and nods and kinda forgets all about goose eggs and wayward asses and decides to forgive Rodney. All night long, if necessary.

And much later, when they’re in bed and Rodney’s wrapped around John and John’s holding an ice pack to Rodney’s head, John thinks Rodney’s probably right. They are way ahead of the game.