Men of Devotion (SG:A McShep short)
Title: Man of Devotion
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Word count: About 1.3k of absolutely nothing happening.
Pairings?: McKay/Sheppard.
Summary: This is what happens when you let me watch the Men of Devotion video on repeat, and I start craving wooing of McKay. Pfff. Let's see if this bullshittery continues.
John Sheppard really was what you would call a "soldier boy". And not in a proud, patriotic way, like, "go get 'em, our little earthling protection force!" but more in a sort of condescending and slightly crabby way when you really want to make it clear to someone that you're angry at them because they're an idiot but you're too flustered to make a detail list of all the ways in which they are an idiot, so you sort of just flounder about a bit in your brain and then for some reason think that "soldier boy" is just the most scathing remark ever, to wit, "Good job, soldier boy."
The two main issues with Sheppard being such a soldier boy was that 1) he was too much of a soldier boy to realise that he was a soldier boy in the bad, second sense of the term, so you couldn't actually use it as an insult, even though you should only do so when no other choices for emotional assault were presented, because it was such a stupid idea for an insult and really who even says that? and 2) he was the type to have very strong views, to stick to his guns (literally or otherwise), and tended to think that the straightforward approach (with lots of shooting and explosions and yelling involved in most cases) was the best approach, which McKay knew for a fact to be wrong. McKay's approach was the best approach, just like everything about McKay. This had never before been much of an issue, except in cases where it resulted in McKay geiting stuck with arrows, shot in the head with stun guns, zapped up, sucked up, beaten up, almost blown up, you know, just basically every single time they went off-world. On the field was one thing though. Sheppard was an idiot and did idiotic things but unlike McKay, who had a hard time admitting when he messed up (mostly because it rarely happened, so naturally he wasn't practised in handling it), he knew how to fix his mistakes, even if he didn't know how to own up to them.
Off the field, however, Sheppard's stubborness and pig-headed stupidity had proved, time and time again, to just be, well, stupid. His Kirk routine with the priestess-come-Ancient, for example, which had absolutely not made McKay jealous in the least despite what Lt. Ford had once liked to joke otherwise, and him going red was just a result of fluctuating heating ventilation in Atlantis because it was an old city and had spent, oh, I don't know, a few million years under a flipping big ocean, and everyone knew that the Ancients weren't all they were cracked up to be, after all, whose fault are the Wraith, hm?
Where was this going again? Oh yes, Sheppard's stupidity wasn't limited to off-world missions, and while they were easily forgotten in the blood-pumping, adrenaline rush of running around for your lives, where they could easily be redeemed for tokens by such acts as saving your life, within the safe confines of your own backyard they were harder to overlook. Still though, McKay had always lived by philosophy, "As long as it doesn't concern me."
Sheppard suddenly dropping into the middle of their conversation on the way back from Ronon trying to teach McKay self-defence (trying being the operative word there), just when McKay was feeling sweaty and embarrassed and vulnerable with all his physical, you know, shortcomings all laid out bare and in the open, with bruises developing in places no man should ever have to suffer a bruise that, in actual fact, it just so happened that he, Lt. Col. John Sheppard, liked McKay, no Rodney, that's not how I meant, don't give me that look, stop sputtering, you know how I mean, yes Rodney since we're being grade school about it, I meant that I like like you, so I heard your favourite blue jello is for dessert today did, unfortunately, concern McKay.
When McKay had pressed the issue, in a voice he thought was a whisper, but what with McKay being incapable of that elusive thing called an inside voice, was actually far from it, Sheppard had just looked at him with this do you really want to pursue this conversation? look, and McKay had stopped only because he actually rather didn't, or maybe just at least wait until he'd had a moment to sit down and think of horrible things to say when he had his composure back. Things that didn't include the phrase "soldier boy".
Sheppard showing up at his quarters at an ungodly hour with that big stupid little boy on Christmas grin on his face wasn't the time McKay had planned to continue the conversation, but since he was here, McKay sat him down and thoroughly berated him on why he was an idiot and to not say idiot things and no you may not speak it's still McKay speaky time, so shut your big stupid idiotic mouth you Idiotic McIdiotpants. When he finally sunk down onto his bed, secure in the belief that he had thoroughly drilled into his head that Sheppard was, in fact, an idiot, almost an hour had passed.
"Are you done?" Sheppard had said calmly, and rolled his eyes in the same way he would if McKay had just told him that it was completely impossible to close down a Stargate because it was feeding off of sub-atomic energy particles in the air that were not only multiplying as their generation was somehow being exasperated by the draw of the gate, but that they were becoming highly unstable and might set off like a flame in a petrol tank at any moment, because in another five minutes McKay would have found a solution to an impossible problem, just like he always did.
Well excuse me, John Sheppard, but your little boy crush is not innately unstable sub-atomic energy particles bouncing around in the atmosphere. It is distinctly wrong and creepy and inappropriate, like finding out that not only is your mother a stripper, but she specialises in clown fetishes.
Then Sheppard stood up and took a firm, spread-legged stance in front of McKay, the human equivalent of fluffing your feathers to look bigger, and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"You are loud, obnoxious, arrogant, ignorant, insulting, clueless, hopeless, clumsy, rude, selfish, ill-mannered, ill-tempered, you make the junior scientists cry, hell, you make some of my soldiers cry, you've got a thinning hairline, you're unfit - let's be honest here, you're edging on fatty - you complain all the time, you're a hypochondriac, you're overly sarcastic, you're always dragging us down on missions, you're a coward, you're whiny, you eat all our food supplies, you drink eleven cups of coffee a day, and you sweat."
"I don't sweat that much!" Because when you had that much thrown at you, you just grabbed whatever landed last to deal with.
"Yes you do. But I still like you, because all that crap has got nothing to do with the fact that you're reliable, you've got a bigger heart than you let on to, and that clearly I have no taste. So you can hiss and spit all you like, but I'm going to make you not just accept my feelings, but reciprocate them."
"Ha!"
"Do you know how I'm going to make you do that?"
McKay paused, then looked absolutely horrified.
"Oh God, you're going to drug me, aren't you?"
"What?! No, Rodney, I'm not going to drug you!" Sheppard crossed the small space to the door, pausing in the doorway to look back at him. "I'm going to make you give up and give in. Because I am far more dedicated to wooing you than you are to spurning me. I know you like me as well, somewhere in there."
"Wooing me? Really? That's the word you want to use? Wooing? Really not helping."
Sheppard just grinned.
"It's just a matter of time, Rodney."
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Word count: About 1.3k of absolutely nothing happening.
Pairings?: McKay/Sheppard.
Summary: This is what happens when you let me watch the Men of Devotion video on repeat, and I start craving wooing of McKay. Pfff. Let's see if this bullshittery continues.
John Sheppard really was what you would call a "soldier boy". And not in a proud, patriotic way, like, "go get 'em, our little earthling protection force!" but more in a sort of condescending and slightly crabby way when you really want to make it clear to someone that you're angry at them because they're an idiot but you're too flustered to make a detail list of all the ways in which they are an idiot, so you sort of just flounder about a bit in your brain and then for some reason think that "soldier boy" is just the most scathing remark ever, to wit, "Good job, soldier boy."
The two main issues with Sheppard being such a soldier boy was that 1) he was too much of a soldier boy to realise that he was a soldier boy in the bad, second sense of the term, so you couldn't actually use it as an insult, even though you should only do so when no other choices for emotional assault were presented, because it was such a stupid idea for an insult and really who even says that? and 2) he was the type to have very strong views, to stick to his guns (literally or otherwise), and tended to think that the straightforward approach (with lots of shooting and explosions and yelling involved in most cases) was the best approach, which McKay knew for a fact to be wrong. McKay's approach was the best approach, just like everything about McKay. This had never before been much of an issue, except in cases where it resulted in McKay geiting stuck with arrows, shot in the head with stun guns, zapped up, sucked up, beaten up, almost blown up, you know, just basically every single time they went off-world. On the field was one thing though. Sheppard was an idiot and did idiotic things but unlike McKay, who had a hard time admitting when he messed up (mostly because it rarely happened, so naturally he wasn't practised in handling it), he knew how to fix his mistakes, even if he didn't know how to own up to them.
Off the field, however, Sheppard's stubborness and pig-headed stupidity had proved, time and time again, to just be, well, stupid. His Kirk routine with the priestess-come-Ancient, for example, which had absolutely not made McKay jealous in the least despite what Lt. Ford had once liked to joke otherwise, and him going red was just a result of fluctuating heating ventilation in Atlantis because it was an old city and had spent, oh, I don't know, a few million years under a flipping big ocean, and everyone knew that the Ancients weren't all they were cracked up to be, after all, whose fault are the Wraith, hm?
Where was this going again? Oh yes, Sheppard's stupidity wasn't limited to off-world missions, and while they were easily forgotten in the blood-pumping, adrenaline rush of running around for your lives, where they could easily be redeemed for tokens by such acts as saving your life, within the safe confines of your own backyard they were harder to overlook. Still though, McKay had always lived by philosophy, "As long as it doesn't concern me."
Sheppard suddenly dropping into the middle of their conversation on the way back from Ronon trying to teach McKay self-defence (trying being the operative word there), just when McKay was feeling sweaty and embarrassed and vulnerable with all his physical, you know, shortcomings all laid out bare and in the open, with bruises developing in places no man should ever have to suffer a bruise that, in actual fact, it just so happened that he, Lt. Col. John Sheppard, liked McKay, no Rodney, that's not how I meant, don't give me that look, stop sputtering, you know how I mean, yes Rodney since we're being grade school about it, I meant that I like like you, so I heard your favourite blue jello is for dessert today did, unfortunately, concern McKay.
When McKay had pressed the issue, in a voice he thought was a whisper, but what with McKay being incapable of that elusive thing called an inside voice, was actually far from it, Sheppard had just looked at him with this do you really want to pursue this conversation? look, and McKay had stopped only because he actually rather didn't, or maybe just at least wait until he'd had a moment to sit down and think of horrible things to say when he had his composure back. Things that didn't include the phrase "soldier boy".
Sheppard showing up at his quarters at an ungodly hour with that big stupid little boy on Christmas grin on his face wasn't the time McKay had planned to continue the conversation, but since he was here, McKay sat him down and thoroughly berated him on why he was an idiot and to not say idiot things and no you may not speak it's still McKay speaky time, so shut your big stupid idiotic mouth you Idiotic McIdiotpants. When he finally sunk down onto his bed, secure in the belief that he had thoroughly drilled into his head that Sheppard was, in fact, an idiot, almost an hour had passed.
"Are you done?" Sheppard had said calmly, and rolled his eyes in the same way he would if McKay had just told him that it was completely impossible to close down a Stargate because it was feeding off of sub-atomic energy particles in the air that were not only multiplying as their generation was somehow being exasperated by the draw of the gate, but that they were becoming highly unstable and might set off like a flame in a petrol tank at any moment, because in another five minutes McKay would have found a solution to an impossible problem, just like he always did.
Well excuse me, John Sheppard, but your little boy crush is not innately unstable sub-atomic energy particles bouncing around in the atmosphere. It is distinctly wrong and creepy and inappropriate, like finding out that not only is your mother a stripper, but she specialises in clown fetishes.
Then Sheppard stood up and took a firm, spread-legged stance in front of McKay, the human equivalent of fluffing your feathers to look bigger, and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"You are loud, obnoxious, arrogant, ignorant, insulting, clueless, hopeless, clumsy, rude, selfish, ill-mannered, ill-tempered, you make the junior scientists cry, hell, you make some of my soldiers cry, you've got a thinning hairline, you're unfit - let's be honest here, you're edging on fatty - you complain all the time, you're a hypochondriac, you're overly sarcastic, you're always dragging us down on missions, you're a coward, you're whiny, you eat all our food supplies, you drink eleven cups of coffee a day, and you sweat."
"I don't sweat that much!" Because when you had that much thrown at you, you just grabbed whatever landed last to deal with.
"Yes you do. But I still like you, because all that crap has got nothing to do with the fact that you're reliable, you've got a bigger heart than you let on to, and that clearly I have no taste. So you can hiss and spit all you like, but I'm going to make you not just accept my feelings, but reciprocate them."
"Ha!"
"Do you know how I'm going to make you do that?"
McKay paused, then looked absolutely horrified.
"Oh God, you're going to drug me, aren't you?"
"What?! No, Rodney, I'm not going to drug you!" Sheppard crossed the small space to the door, pausing in the doorway to look back at him. "I'm going to make you give up and give in. Because I am far more dedicated to wooing you than you are to spurning me. I know you like me as well, somewhere in there."
"Wooing me? Really? That's the word you want to use? Wooing? Really not helping."
Sheppard just grinned.
"It's just a matter of time, Rodney."