(no subject)
sheafrotherdon is hosting the 47,362 stories in which John and Rodney make out, sleep, and eat a sandwich fest, and the replies are made of 100% adorable, and you should make a sandwich and then go see!
The sky's just starting to pink when John collects Rodney from the auxiliary power switching station, which is tucked in a small outbuilding way out on the south pier. Rodney would be dead on his feet, if he were standing, but he's not-he's slumped sideways where he's sitting on the floor, tools and burnt-out crystals spread out around him. He doesn't move when John steps inside, and John reins in the urge to yell or clap or otherwise scare the crap out of him, opting instead to unwrap the sandwich half that he brought along and wave it under Rodney's nose. Rodney twitches and snorts and sits up straight, opening his eyes and blinking and saying, "What?"
"G'morning," John says cheerily, and Rodney groans. "God, is it really? I didn't mean to-" He pauses for a huge yawn. "Oh. Is that pimento? Yum."
John hands over the sandwich and watches him bite and chew and bite and chew and yawn again-"McKay!-and chew and swallow until it's all gone. Rodney's warm and pliant when John levers him up and shuffles him out the door, and he's already mostly asleep by the time John pushes him in the direction of his bed, in spite of the sun streaming in the windows.
* * *
It's lunchtime when John comes back to check on him, and he finds Rodney up again and showered. He's still warm, only now he's damp around the edges and he smells fresh and minty, all of which John gets to experience up close and personal when Rodney crowds him against the wall and slides a hand under his shirt.
"You're bright-eyed," he says, and Rodney agrees, "Mmmm hmmm, and bushy-tailed, and I fixed the power relay. Electricity is totally my bitch."
John smirks and shifts, encouraging Rodney's hand to head south. "Oh yeah? So if I asked you to, you could turn me on?"
Turns out, Rodney can.
The sky's just starting to pink when John collects Rodney from the auxiliary power switching station, which is tucked in a small outbuilding way out on the south pier. Rodney would be dead on his feet, if he were standing, but he's not-he's slumped sideways where he's sitting on the floor, tools and burnt-out crystals spread out around him. He doesn't move when John steps inside, and John reins in the urge to yell or clap or otherwise scare the crap out of him, opting instead to unwrap the sandwich half that he brought along and wave it under Rodney's nose. Rodney twitches and snorts and sits up straight, opening his eyes and blinking and saying, "What?"
"G'morning," John says cheerily, and Rodney groans. "God, is it really? I didn't mean to-" He pauses for a huge yawn. "Oh. Is that pimento? Yum."
John hands over the sandwich and watches him bite and chew and bite and chew and yawn again-"McKay!-and chew and swallow until it's all gone. Rodney's warm and pliant when John levers him up and shuffles him out the door, and he's already mostly asleep by the time John pushes him in the direction of his bed, in spite of the sun streaming in the windows.
* * *
It's lunchtime when John comes back to check on him, and he finds Rodney up again and showered. He's still warm, only now he's damp around the edges and he smells fresh and minty, all of which John gets to experience up close and personal when Rodney crowds him against the wall and slides a hand under his shirt.
"You're bright-eyed," he says, and Rodney agrees, "Mmmm hmmm, and bushy-tailed, and I fixed the power relay. Electricity is totally my bitch."
John smirks and shifts, encouraging Rodney's hand to head south. "Oh yeah? So if I asked you to, you could turn me on?"
Turns out, Rodney can.