TEAM FINE: fall guy, "Cultural Exchange: Another College AU"
Title: Cultural Exchange: Another College AU
Author: therentgirls
Team: Fine
Prompt: fall guy
Pairing(s): McKay/Sheppard, Sheppard/Other (implied)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Word count: 6772
Summary: While spending a semester at Stanford, cultural exchange student Rodney McKay learns more than he expected about love and lawn care.
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The high pitched buzzing crashed over him like ocean waves. Loud, so loud, then gently washing past him, letting him almost fall back into unconsciousness before sweeping back to drag him into wakefulness.
He buried his face in his pillow, pulled his blanket over his head and tried to drown out the buzzing. No use. Too loud and, now that he looked around his bedroom, too light. He reached out to the bedside table and turned the alarm clock around. The red digits proudly proclaimed 7:00 am.
He’d been in the lab long after midnight last night. Lab time was precious and he’d had a break through on a theory that he’d been toying with since the end of last semester-and maybe that’s why it took him so long to realize the obnoxious buzzing was a lawn mower. On Sunday morning.
He pulled his jeans off floor, slid them up his skinny hips and slipped yesterday’s shirt over his head as he rushed out into the yard to give the early mowing idiot a tongue lashing.
The sun was bright and the grass cool with dew under his bare feet. Terrific. Just what he needed-sunburn and wet feet.
“You,” Rodney called. “You, with the lawn mower!”
The mowing continued, the man obviously oblivious. Rodney hurried out to the far side of his small yard and tapped the mower on the shoulder.
The mower turned around, shutting down the machine and yanking his headphones off. “Sorry,” he said. “I can’t hear anything with my Walkman on, which I guess is kind of the point.” He smiled and Rodney’s words dried up in his mouth.
A sexy beanpole, Rodney thought. A sexy, shirtless beanpole in low slung cut offs and unlaced black Converse.
“Did you need something, dude?” The beanpole asked after another minute passed.
“Did I?” Rodney said, trying to remember what else he was supposed to be doing, other than staring at a sweat droplet that had started at the beanpole’s hairline and was now snaking its way down a freckled shoulder on a journey that would no doubt cross a leanly muscled chest and a flat abdomen before sneaking into those shorts.
“I’m not sure,” the beanpole said. “If not, though, I’ve got to finish this lawn.”
Right. The lawn. The reason he was up at 7 on a Sunday morning. “Is there any reason that you’re cutting my lawn?”
Beanpole flipped up his aviator sunglasses. “Well, I’m pretty sure it’s because someone is paying me to do it.” Beanpole squinted a little against the early morning sun and Rodney felt something warm churn in the general region of his heart. “Unless you want to finish it up.”
“Me? Outside? No, no, no, no. I’m allergic to grass and bees and sun and citrus.”
“So, no mowing in your future. Got it.”
“Look,” Rodney started.
“John.”
“What?”
“John Sheppard. That’s my name.”
“Oh. Rodney McKay. That’s my name, I mean.”
“I know. Your landlord set me up to mow your lawn. Still, nice to meet you.” John pushed his sunglasses back on his nose and reached over to start the mower.
“No,” Rodney said, “I mean wait. I was sleeping when you started.”
“Well, some of us have to get an early start.”
“And some of us had a late night.”
“Sorry if my working interfered with your post Saturday night party recovery.”
“I wasn’t at a party,” Rodney sputtered. “I’ll have you know that I was in the lab till one o’clock. I’m a cultural exchange student at the university.”
“And where are you culturing from?”
“Canada,” Rodney snapped. “I was invited to spend two semesters here with the physics department. I’m a genius.”
“That’s great,” John said. “So, since you’re up already, can I finish the lawn?”
“I,” Rodney realized he should have shut up about three minutes ago. “Sure.” He walked to the house without looking back. The lawn mower was whirring before he shut the front door.
**********
Rodney spent the rest of Sunday pacing from room to room in the small house the university had provided for him. He dissected every second of his two minute conversation with John Sheppard, lawn boy.
He was being an idiot, he knew that; he was acting like some teenage girl obsessing over Sting. No, he was acting like a scientist. He was evaluating those moments spent with John Sheppard, lawn boy.
Had his eyes really been some ridiculously sparkly green? What kind of grown man (although he was probably only a year or two old than Rodney) made a living mowing lawns? What kept those shorts from sliding off those lean hips?
And what kind of a cultural exchange genius student kept thinking about how much he’d wanted to trace the path of that sweat droplet with his fingers and tongue?
********
Rodney half jogged to the library Monday morning, books in one hand and a Styrofoam cup of Krispy Kreme coffee in the other.
“So, why exactly are you at Stanford?”
Rodney stopped. There, leaning against the library door jamb, was his sexy beanpole, just as gorgeous as he remembered.
Rodney rolled his eyes. “Cultural exchange.”
John shot him a sly smile. “We have James Dean, The Ramones and football. What exactly does Canada bring to the table?”
“What does Canada bring to the table?” Rodney sputtered. “What does Canada bring to the table? How about insulin and Universal Healthcare?”
“And don’t forget Pablum,” John added helpfully.
“Yes, that and the walkie-talkie and the snowmobile and the pager-“
“And the foghorn,” John said, crossing his long, denim clad legs.
“The foghorn?” Rodney said.
“Yeah, although, technically Robert Foulis migrated to Canada from Scotland, it was still invented in Canada.”
Rodney shook his head. “I’m sorry? And how did you happen to know that?”
There was a hint of a blush on the John’s cheeks as he ducked his head. “I, uh, might have an excellent memory for trivia facts about foreign countries.”
“Or?”
“Or, I might have been checking out a few things in the Encyclopedia Canadiana.”
“Why would you-“
“Look, I think we might have gotten off to a bad start yesterday morning. Let’s try again.” John stood up straight and put his hand out. “I’m John Sheppard. I’m a full time student and a part time lawn guy.”
Rodney put his books on the step and wiped his hand on his jeans before extending it to John. “I’m Rodney McKay. Full time student, part time lab rat.”
“Nice to meet you, Rodney,” John smiled. “I’ve got a class but maybe we could meet later.”
“Meet for?”
John leaned forward and whispered hotly, “For whatever.”
“I’d like that,” Rodney said quickly, the moist heat of John's breath shockingly sensual. “I’d like that very much.”
“Okay then. See you around.”
It wasn’t until Wednesday that Rodney realized he didn’t get John’s phone number.
********
Maybe he’d read too much into that library encounter, Rodney decided by Friday afternoon. It had seemed like John Sheppard, sexy beanpole and part time lawn guy, had been not-so-covertly hitting on him but maybe not. The mating rituals of the closet cases were always difficult to decipher.
Still, why had John bothered to brush up on the glory that was Canada if not to impress him? Then again, why would somebody who looked like Sheppard try to impress him? It wasn’t that Rodney wasn’t aware of his own charms; he was an attractive man, even if he was a little on the skinny side. Still, the guys that he had sex with were generally other fast track lab rats.
By Saturday night, as he dragged himself out of the lab and started the mile hike to his house, he decided Sheppard was a prick tease. Just another jerk that was jealous of Rodney’s genius.
Sheppard was some good looking, good smelling jock who had cranked his chain a little. So what? He’d lived through worse and he only had twelve weeks left then he was back in Toronto for the holidays before doing the next leg of his cultural exchange stint at Cambridge.
He was Rodney McKay, and he had his own brilliant destiny; if John Sheppard didn’t want to make a cameo appearance, that was his problem.
And no matter what, he promised himself, absolutely no matter what, he was not going out to watch Sheppard play lawn boy tomorrow morning.
********
He was up by 7 on Sunday, teeth brushed, wild hair tamed, tight jeans and Lover Boy tee-shirt on. Rodney grabbed his most recent copy of AIP Journal of Mathematical Physics and a box of Sugar Smacks then planted himself at the kitchen table. If there happened to be a perfect view of the front yard, it was just coincidence. He was merely anxious to decimate the article that Mark Weston, massive moron and current lab rival, had published last month.
He absolutely wasn’t interested in mooning over Sheppard’s shirtless torso or sweat droplets.
Two hours and two notebooks filled with scathing rebuttals to Weston’s idiotic theory later, Rodney finally heard a lawn mower start up in his yard. He shoved another handful of Sugar Smacks into his mouth and willed his ass to stay planted in the chair.
Five minutes in, he knew he was a goner. He licked the sticky remnants from his fingers, took a deep breath and walked out.
It wasn’t John.
Some aging surfer type pushed the mower by Rodney with a quick nod of his blond head.
“Wait,” Rodney shouted over the machine’s whine. “Where’s John Sheppard? He’s supposed to cut my lawn.”
The surfer shrugged and shouted back, “Not sure. Company asked me to do this one.”
Rodney went back into the house. As he picked the journal back up, he tried to convince himself the sick feeling in his stomach was due to the half box of cereal he’d devoured.
********
Rodney spent so much time over the next two weeks pretending he wasn't looking for John, he almost didn’t see him in the courtyard in front of the library.
There, half reclining on the ground with a pretty brunette, was John Sheppard, part time lawn boy and, apparently, full time libertine. He was too far away to hear what they were saying but he could see they were laughing and entirely too comfortable in each other’s space.
God, he hated it when he was stupid! How had he managed to imagine that John had been interested in him? They’d spend ten minutes talking about the right of man to sleep in on Sunday and two minutes in front of the library talking about, well, nothing really.
Rodney thought about forgoing the library so he wouldn’t have to pass John and Little Miss Hot Pants’ mating dance but, screw it. What did he care if John ignored him? He had a paper to finish and the article he wanted to review was in that library.
He straightened his shoulders, put his Sheppard blinders on and started across the courtyard. He’d almost made it to the door when he heard John call his name. The temptation to keep walking was almost overwhelming.
“Rodney, hey,” John said.
“Sheppard,” he replied, trying to play it cool.
“How have you been?”
“What do you care?” he retorted. Playing it cool had never been his forte.
John looked a bit stung. Before he could answer Rodney, the brunette joined them. “I’ve got to get to class, babe,” she said, pressing a quick kiss to John's cheek.
“Oh, okay. Nancy, this is Rodney. He’s in the cultural exchange program. Rodney, this is Nancy.”
The brunette smiled a perfect toothed smile and Rodney realized it was possible to hate a total stranger. “Nice to meet you.”
“You, too,” Rodney managed as the simpering coed left them. “Well, it’s been real, Sheppard. Now if you’ll excuse me, I actually have important things to do.”
“Wait, Rodney,” John started.
“Wait for what exactly? A little more innuendo before you disappear for a couple of weeks then show up out of nowhere to rub your hot girlfriend in my face? I think I could do without a repeat of that, thanks.”
“It isn’t what you think.”
“Oh. You weren’t hitting on me before?”
“No. I mean yes.” John glanced around them but no one was paying attention to their conversation. “Yes.”
“And you didn’t disappear for couple of weeks?”
“Not technically but,” John rubbed the back of his neck, “well, I can see how you might think that.”
“And the coed with pert breasts and amazing dentition isn’t your girlfriend”
“Nancy? We… yeah, we’re dating.”
“So, what part of what I’m thinking isn’t what I think it is?”
“Rodney, please.” John looked almost desperate. Rodney knew he shouldn’t listen to any more of this but, honestly, he wanted to know what was going on and, God help him, he wanted Sheppard.
“Please what?”
“Let me come by and explain.”
“Okay, yeah. Come by tonight.”
“Okay. Great.”
“Yeah, great.” Rodney hoped he wasn’t making a huge mistake.
*********
He didn’t exactly primp for John but he wanted to look as least as good as he had the Sunday morning when aging surfer had mowed his lawn, so he put on his best tee-shirt and a little eye-liner after cleaning up his place and changing the sheets on the bed. The three months that he’d been a member of the Fort McMurray Eager Beavers, taught him to be ready for anything. That and that words really can hurt you.
Before he could start back down that middle school path, the doorbell rang.
Trying to maintain his dubious cool, Rodney opened the door and nearly swallowed his tongue.
John looked amazing; his hair was floppy and his eyes were sparkly and he seemed nearly as anxiously uncomfortable as Rodney.
“Hey,” John said.
“Hey,” Rodney managed.
“Are you going to let me in?”
“What? Oh sure,” Rodney said, letting John pass by and closing the door behind them. “Did you want a beer or something?”
“Sure, that would be great.” John said following Rodney into the kitchen. Rodney grabbed two beers and when he turned to hand one to John, he was crowded up against the refrigerator. “Rodney,” John whispered against his lips then kissed him.
Rodney barely had a chance to kiss him back when John stepped back. “I’m sorry, Rodney. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“No, no, no, no! You absolutely should have.” Rodney set the beers on the kitchen table. “We can talk second, if that works for you.”
John smiled and Rodney felt the world tilt a bit. Red DANGER lights flashed in his brain and he kissed John again. And again.
“This is stupid,” Rodney said.
“I would have gone with overwhelming,” John said, his lips a little swollen and the tail of shirt pulled out of his jeans.
“That, too, but I meant the location. I have a perfectly good bedroom with a great view of the lawn. I understand you like that sort of thing.”
John laughed, a ridiculous braying noise that Rodney immediately found endearing. “I do, as a matter of fact.”
********
Rodney woke up face down on his pillow; John sprawled next to him, snoring softly. He turned his head to look at him, trying not to feel too much like a creepy stalker but, God, this guy was hot. Rodney had slept with his fair share of attractive lab rats but none came close to John.
“You’re awake,” John murmured, opening one eye.
“You’re gorgeous,” Rodney blurted.
“Thanks,” John said, sitting up against the pillows. “Um, you, too.”
Rodney rolled to his side. “Um, thanks.”
John rubbed his eyes. “I wasn’t blowing you off before. I had to go home. My mom was having some issues and she needed me. By the time I thought about giving you a call, I was already at the cabin and I didn’t have your number.”
Rodney knew about family issues; his own parents could hardly stand the sight of each other yet refused to do the courteous thing and get a divorce. They’d been tormenting Rodney and his younger sister with the ruins of their marriage for as long as Rodney could remember.
“You weren’t under any obligation to call me, John. We barely know each other.”
John slipped his hand under the sheet and cupped Rodney’s half erect cock. “We’ve made some progress in that area.”
Rodney wanted nothing more than to push up into John’s hand and start round three but he had to know. “And what about Nancy?”
John moved closer to Rodney, licking at a small bruise he’d sucked there a couple of hours before. “What about Nancy? “
“I don’t know, John,” Rodney said putting some space between them. “How about the fact that you’re ‘dating’ her and you’ve spent the last couple of hours fucking me? I don’t want a jealous girlfriend stabbing me in the lunch line if she finds out.” He sat up so that he was next to John, back against the headboard. “I mean, I could have said no but you’re hot and apparently in the closet and willing to cheat so-“
“Rodney, it’s a little more complicated than that.”
“I’m a genius. Try explaining it to me.”
“I could use that beer now, if you don’t mind.”
Rodney padded naked to the kitchen, snagged two beers and brought them back to the bedroom. John had tugged his jeans back on and was sitting on the edge of the bed; Rodney sat down beside him.
John took a long pull on the beer then sighed. “I’ve wanted to fly for as long as I can remember, Rodney. I honestly don’t recall wanting to do anything other than be pilot.” John lay back, staring up at the ceiling. “I can’t explain the sensation, the speed, the sense of rightness flying gives me.”
Rodney set his beer on the night stand and lay down beside him. John was silent for so long, Rodney thought he had fallen back asleep. “John?”
“Sorry, just trying to… Look, my dad is the kind of guy that thinks he has to decide everything for everyone. By the time I was 14, he pretty much had my life planned out and it did not include being an Air Force pilot.”
“Air Force pilot?”
“Yeah, I’m going into the Air Force after I graduate.”
“Wow. I’m not sure… Wait, so that’s why you’re with Nancy? Does she know that you’re gay?”
“I’m bisexual and she knows I plan to go into the Air Force.”
“Excuse me, bisexual and I meant does she know you fuck guys?” Rodney said a little meanly.
“Nancy knows everything she wants to know and I’m dating her because she’s a wonderful person.”
“And where do I fit into this?”
“Wherever you want to fit in, Rodney. I like you and you seem to like me. We could be-“
“Fuck buddies?”
“Little crude but-“
“But accurate.” Rodney said.
He could do a lot worse than a sexy, future pilot with daddy (and mommy) issues, a beard for girlfriend, a death wish and a desire to fuck on a regular basis. Besides, he would be back in Toronto by the holidays. How much of mess could this turn into by December?
Rodney straddled John then leaned down as if to kiss him. “You convinced me, John. I'm in and if you’d get rid of these jeans, you could be in, too.”
*********
Rodney scooted around the house, picking up the worst of the mess. If he’d learned anything about John Sheppard in the last two months it was the man was a not-so-secret neat freak. Since John had two roommates, they spent most of their time at Rodney’s house. There, they had Rodney’s game console, HBO and unlimited privacy.
It was weird, Rodney thought, as he quickly changed the sheets. In the beginning, the unlimited privacy was all he cared about. They’d barely close the front door before their clothes came off. He’d fucked Sheppard on the living room floor more often than the bed the first couple of weeks. “Fuck me harder,” “do that again” and “right there!” had been the entirety of their conversations.
Then somewhere around week three, Rodney had spied John loping down a hallway in the math building and something tightened in his chest. I held that guy in my arms last night, he’d thought, as John turned down a corridor.
Rodney had watched him sleep, heard him sing (horribly) in the kitchen and kissed him goodbye in the morning. He knew how John’s skin tasted, how the sweat rolled off his face when they fucked and that he wanted, more than anything, to fly.
He was suddenly struck by the wrongness of his ignorance. John wasn’t some quick screw, some lab rat wanting maximum relief with minimum effort. He was, well, he was John.
“Sheppard!” he’d shouted down the hall. He’d taken John out to lunch that day and pretended he didn’t see the big red Danger sign flashing over them as they picked at mushroom burgers and discussed John’s amazing math ability.
“You could do so much with that math brain,” Rodney had groused.
“I am going to do something with my math brain-I’m going to fly and I’m going to serve my country.”
“I meant you could do research. Listen, John, there’s a world, heck, a galaxy out there waiting for people like you and me to discover it. Think about it, ‘McKay and Sheppard Explore the Universe.’”
“Well, if it was ‘Sheppard and McKay’ and you could guarantee we’d fly there, I might be interested.”
That afternoon, with a hint of fall just under the bright sunlight, was the first time Rodney appreciated what an amazing gift he’d been given in John Sheppard.
“You’re not just a fuck buddy,” he’d bussed against John’s temple as they lay panting on Rodney’s bed.
“I had kind of hoped I’d been promoted to friend with benefits,” John laughed.
Now, six weeks later, he and Sheppard were… well, he wasn’t sure what they were but he did know he didn’t want to give him up. Not in three weeks, not in three years. It wasn’t just the sex. It was the everything.
Rodney picked a couple of towels off the bathroom floor and shoved them into the hamper. John wasn’t due for another hour so he’d have plenty of time to decimate the last idiotic theory that Mark Weston was getting ready for submission.
He’d just drawn the first red line under the first sentence in Weston’s laughable attempt at science when the doorbell rang. John had been offered a key several times but had turned Rodney down. “What would your neighbors think if I had a key, Rodney?”, he'd said on more than one occasion.
It had hurt more than he cared to admit that John so vigilantly hid their affair.
The doorbell rang again before Rodney could swing the door open. “Jesus, Sheppard, give a guy a…”
Standing on his porch, petite and perfect, was Nancy.
“What are you doing here?” he asked sharply. He and Nancy had studiously ignored one another over the last two months; Rodney had no problem with keeping the status quo.
“I need to talk to you, Rodney.”
“Why?”
“It’s about John.”
“Of course, it’s about John,” Rodney retorted, making no move to let her pass. “What else would we have to talk about? Is he all right?”
“That’s what I want to talk to you about.”
“He’s going to be here soon.”
“I know. I need to talk to you before then. Please, Rodney.”
He reluctantly stepped aside. “What’s so important?” he asked closing the door.
“Rodney, I don’t know any other way to do this than be blunt. You need to stop seeing John.”
Rodney snorted as he sat back on the sofa. “And why exactly would I do that.”
“Because you love him.” She perched on the edge of the chair across from him. “And because he loves you.”
Rodney felt that by-now-familiar tightening his chest. Huh. She was right; he did love John. That crazy need to hear his stupid laugh, the desire to sit with him while he slurped Cheerios and the willingness to pick towels up off the floor, that was love. How had he missed that?
“If what you say is true, I don’t see it as much of a deterrent.”
“I’ve known John since we were kids, Rodney. His dad has a summer place not far from ours. I know John seems like he’s got it all under control now but you don’t know how it was with his dad. John always says his dad runs the family like he runs his business.”
“His business?”
Nancy shot him a pitying look. “Do you guys do anything but screw? Sheppard Utilities? His dad is that Sheppard.”
“Ah, well, I’m not from around here,” Rodney said. How had the fact John was a rich kid not come up in conversation. “Wait, if he’s got money, why does he work mowing lawns? And why does he have those ridiculous frat boy roommates?”
“I assume he told you he doesn’t get along with his dad? His dad doesn’t want him in the Air Force. He wants John to get his MBA and work for the family business. When John got the scholarship to Stanford, his dad told him to go to his alma mater instead and he’d pay for everything. John told him no.”
“So, his dad cut him off?” Rodney wondered briefly what it was like to have parents with the financial capability to smooth the way.
“More than cut him off from the money, he cut him off from the family.”
“I thought he went to see his mother at the beginning of the semester.”
“Phoebe Sheppard isn’t part of the family anymore. She crossed John's dad one too many times.”
“Not that I’m not loving this heartwarming tale, Nancy, but I don’t really think John would appreciate you telling this. If he wants me to know about his family, he’ll tell me when he’s ready.”
“I’m telling you because I hope it will help you understand why you’ve got to break-up with him.”
“Break-up? You’re the one dating him,” he said bitterly. "I'm just a fuck buddy."
“Two months ago, I would have agreed with you.” She ran her hand through her hair. “It’s different this time. He’s talking about going into research instead of the Air Force. His whole life has been about flying, Rodney. He gave up his family for this and now he’s going to throw it away.”
“Maybe he’s tired of hiding who he is, Nancy. Maybe he doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life pretending to be straight. If he joins the Air Force, he’ll have to hide who he is for his whole career. Do you know that in 1981 your Department of Defense put out a new policy that states that homosexuality is incompatible with military service? Is that what you want for him?”
“I want him to be happy, Rodney. That’s what I want for him. What do you want for him? I’ve listened to him drone on for ten years about flying. I watched him stand up to his father and I’ve watched him put his dream above everything. Everything but you, Rodney.”
“You give me too much credit.”
“Do I? Whose dream is it to be a research scientist? Who had the dream to ‘explore the universe’? You or him?”
“And I’m sure you’re being completely altruistic here, Nancy. If I let him go, then what? Will you do the same?”
“I’m no threat to his dream, Rodney. If anything, I can help his Air Force career.” She stood. “Are you able to say the same? Would you be able to support his career? Spend your life pretending to be his, what? Friend? Cousin? Or would you really make him choose you over the Air Force?”
Rodney stood, too, walking her to the door.
“Just think about what I said. I know you’ll do the right thing, Rodney. Despite our differences, we both want John to be happy.”
Rodney sat back on the sofa, article forgotten.
*********
“Sorry!” John said when Rodney answered the door. “I got caught at the last house. As much as I like the extra money, I’ll be glad when I'm only doing half the lawns. Once it cools down a little more,” he added dropping a pizza box on the kitchen table. “I usually do some tutoring after the holidays to make up the cash flow difference.”
“That’s when the math morons finally realize that they’ve got to pull it together or they won’t get the ‘D’ they need to scrape by on their way to academic mediocrity.” Rodney opened the pizza box, half double meat and half double veggie. He pulled out a piece and put it on a plate.
John slid a piece of double veggie on his own plate and started to pick the toppings off, popping them into his mouth one at a time.
Was Nancy right? What if she was right? Would it really be so bad if John went into academia instead of the Air Force? They could be happy couldn’t they? They were happy now, weren’t they? Sitting in his kitchen, talking and eating and laughing just like they had a hundred times before, wasn’t this what it could be like for the rest of their lives?
He wasn’t sure when John Sheppard became the center of his world but there was no denying he was crazy about the guy. If someone had asked him just a few months ago if he believed in love and happily ever after, he would have gladly eviscerated them. What did he know about love? He saw how it made people bitter, like his own family. He saw how it drove people away, like John’s family.
John had apparently taken Rodney’s off the cuff remark about them discovering the universe together to heart. He’d thought about it enough that he’d run it past Nancy, the only other person privy to John’s secrets and dreams.
Would it be so wrong to keep his mouth shut? To encourage John choose him over everything else?
And if he did, how would it be in year? In two? In ten? Would John grow to hate him like his parents hated each other? Would Rodney grow jealous and desperate, trying to hold on to John? Would John eventually resent him? Would he look up at the sky and realize what Rodney had stolen from him?
Did Rodney want to be that guy that took and took and took until there was nothing left? Was Nancy right? Did Rodney love John enough to do the right thing?
“Hey, buddy,” John said, “is something wrong?”
“What?”
“Is something wrong? You’re quiet and you’re not eating.”
“Oh. I’m not really hungry.” The concern in John’s eyes was something he’d learned to take for granted. It would be so easy, so freaking easy, to forget about Nancy’s self-righteous speech.
“John, we need to talk.”
“That’s a little ominous,” John said guardedly.
“Hardly,” Rodney said, getting up from the table and pacing the length of the tiny kitchen. “I think we should stop seeing each other.”
“Are you mad because I was late? I told you I was sorry; it took longer at the last house than I thought it would.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, John,” he said. “It’s been great. I mean you’ve had fun, too, right?” He took a deep breath, swallowing down the threatening nausea. “We’ve had some great cultural exchange,” he said, making it as lewd as possible.
“Cultural exchange,” John repeated tonelessly.
“Isn’t that what the university experience is all about? Going different places, trying different things,” he smiled at John, “being with different people.”
John said nothing and Rodney could see the confusion in those sparkling green eyes. He wanted to tell John he was kidding, that he was sorry but he knew he couldn’t.
“I’ll be leaving for Toronto in another couple of weeks and there’s a fellow lab rat, Mark Weston, I’ve been thinking about hooking up with before I go.”
“Mark Weston? The guy you said has the intelligence of used rodent bedding?”
Rodney shrugged. “My attraction isn’t to his brains, Sheppard.”
“Is this some kind of game because of Nancy? I swear, I’m not sleeping with her. I haven’t since you and I…”
“Really? Well, I would have if she was my ‘girlfriend.’ You certainly didn’t have to stop banging her on my account.”
John stood and held Rodney by his shoulders. “Why are you doing this, Rodney?” he said, the hurt evident on his face. “Why are you saying this shit?”
“I’m not saying anything that isn’t true. How did you think this would end? I’m going to Cambridge next semester; I'm being fast tracked, John because I'm just that good. The sky is the limit for me. In another year, you’ll be enlisting in the homophobic Air Force with Nancy at your side. You said it yourself, Sheppard-fuck buddies.”
“Rodney,” John said quietly, looking fragile and brave.
John was going to say he loved him; Rodney could see it about to supernova right before his eyes. He couldn’t bear it, couldn’t hear it and still do the right thing.
“What, Sheppard? Did you want a quickie for the road?” He looked up coyly through his lashes, “Of course, it wouldn’t have to be too quick.”
“I think I’d better go,” John said quietly. Rodney saw the shutters come down in Sheppard’s eyes.
“Maybe you should," Rodney said. God, he hadn't known he could hurt this bad and all he wanted to do was take the grief he'd put on John's face away. “See you around, Sheppard.”
“Yeah, see you around, Rodney.”
Rodney watched from his kitchen window until John disappeared. “Goodbye, John,” he whispered to the dark against the glass. “Be happy.”
He glimpsed John once before he left for Toronto. A sexy beanpole in a black hoodie, blue jeans and untied Converse strolling across the library courtyard, holding books in one arm and Nancy in the other.
Rodney was convinced he’d never seen anything as painfully beautiful as John Sheppard that December morning; he was sure he never would.
Whenever he heard a lawn mower, even years later, he thought of John and wondered if he was happy, if he’d ever fulfilled his dream of flight.
********
Epilogue
It was amazing how the streets of Atlantis literally lit up under every step John Sheppard took. A secretly cherished dream come true after all these years-“McKay and Sheppard Explore the Universe.”
Of course, in Rodney’s dreams Sheppard didn’t treat him like an annoying stranger. As much as it hurt to see the lack of warmth in those incredible eyes, there was comfort in knowing that John had done it-he’d become the Air Force pilot.
For years Rodney had worried he’d done the wrong thing by letting Nancy talk him into leaving John. Now, as he watch how smoothly John interacted with the Athosians and how comfortably he moved among the soldiers, he realized how much of John’s talents would have been wasted in Academia. He’d done the right thing. How ironically painful that the best thing he'd ever done for John was to leave him.
A month in Pegasus was a lifetime on Earth. Sumner was dead, Sheppard was military commander. They were a galaxy from the SGC and, oh by the way, the space vampires were awake and hungry.
Rodney found little time to moon over Sheppard which was good, he supposed. Two decades was way too long to still carry a torch, even if the guy was smoking hot.
He’d been in the lab the better part of a twenty five hour day when he caught a transporter up to his quarters. “Sheppard?”
“Hey, McKay,” Sheppard said. He was leaning on the wall next to Rodney’s doorway. “I was talking to Zelenka and he said you were finally coming up to your quarters.”
“You were talking to who?”
“Zelenka. Never mind. Have you got minute?”
“Uh, sure,” Rodney said, palming open his door. “What can I do for you, Major?”
“Nancy told me, Rodney.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Just after we divorced, she told me.”
“You married her?”
“You told me to do it.”
“I most certainly did not.” He couldn’t believe he still jealous of that woman.
“You did, when you broke up with me.”
“I didn’t break up with you, Major,” Rodney said, his voice starting to rise. “We weren’t together, we were fuc-“,
“We were together, Rodney, and you broke up with me.” John said. “Nancy told me everything. How she convinced you to break it off, how she talked you into being the fall guy for the whole thing. You shouldn’t have done it, McKay.”
“I wanted to do it,” he said quickly, afraid he wouldn’t have the courage to say it if he thought about it. “I loved you. I wanted to give you everything.”
John laughed that stupid donkey laugh of his. “You broke my heart back then, Rodney.”
“If it’s any consolation, I broke my heart back then, too.”
"Oddly, it's not."
Rodney sighed; he'd hoped at the very least they could find a way to be friends. "Why are you even bothering to bring this up, Major? You've moved on and even if you hadn't, you're still in the homophobic Air Force."
"Technically, I'm in the don't ask, don't tell Air Force."
"How does that make it any better, really? You could still be kicked out if anyone knew you were gay."
"Kicked out to where exactly?" John said. "We're isolated from the SGC. Hell, we're cut off from the Milky Way. We're short on food and ZPM power and we're being chased by the Wraith. I think our people have more things to worry about than our sex lives. We're not kids anymore; I think we could be discreet."
Rodney felt hope, slender and sweet, start to wind its way to his heart. "John," he said, opening his arms to embrace him.
John shook his head. “There’s only one way to fix this.”
Rodney nodded, crushed. “I am sorry. I’ll try to stay out of your way as much as possible. Which will be hard because I’m kind of important here-“
“Stop, Rodney. Look, I think we got off to a bad start 18 years ago so I’d like to try again.” John held out his hand, “I’m John Sheppard, full time Air Force major and part time idiot.”
Rodney wiped his hand on his pants before taking Sheppard’s hand. “I’m Rodney McKay, full time Astrophysicist and sometime recipient of second chances.”
John tugged on Rodney’s hand until he came into his arms and brushed a soft kiss across his lips. “And, Rodney?” he said, his voice filled with wonder, “Try not to blow it this time.”
“Not this time,” Rodney promised.
Fin
**
Poll
Author: therentgirls
Team: Fine
Prompt: fall guy
Pairing(s): McKay/Sheppard, Sheppard/Other (implied)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Word count: 6772
Summary: While spending a semester at Stanford, cultural exchange student Rodney McKay learns more than he expected about love and lawn care.
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The high pitched buzzing crashed over him like ocean waves. Loud, so loud, then gently washing past him, letting him almost fall back into unconsciousness before sweeping back to drag him into wakefulness.
He buried his face in his pillow, pulled his blanket over his head and tried to drown out the buzzing. No use. Too loud and, now that he looked around his bedroom, too light. He reached out to the bedside table and turned the alarm clock around. The red digits proudly proclaimed 7:00 am.
He’d been in the lab long after midnight last night. Lab time was precious and he’d had a break through on a theory that he’d been toying with since the end of last semester-and maybe that’s why it took him so long to realize the obnoxious buzzing was a lawn mower. On Sunday morning.
He pulled his jeans off floor, slid them up his skinny hips and slipped yesterday’s shirt over his head as he rushed out into the yard to give the early mowing idiot a tongue lashing.
The sun was bright and the grass cool with dew under his bare feet. Terrific. Just what he needed-sunburn and wet feet.
“You,” Rodney called. “You, with the lawn mower!”
The mowing continued, the man obviously oblivious. Rodney hurried out to the far side of his small yard and tapped the mower on the shoulder.
The mower turned around, shutting down the machine and yanking his headphones off. “Sorry,” he said. “I can’t hear anything with my Walkman on, which I guess is kind of the point.” He smiled and Rodney’s words dried up in his mouth.
A sexy beanpole, Rodney thought. A sexy, shirtless beanpole in low slung cut offs and unlaced black Converse.
“Did you need something, dude?” The beanpole asked after another minute passed.
“Did I?” Rodney said, trying to remember what else he was supposed to be doing, other than staring at a sweat droplet that had started at the beanpole’s hairline and was now snaking its way down a freckled shoulder on a journey that would no doubt cross a leanly muscled chest and a flat abdomen before sneaking into those shorts.
“I’m not sure,” the beanpole said. “If not, though, I’ve got to finish this lawn.”
Right. The lawn. The reason he was up at 7 on a Sunday morning. “Is there any reason that you’re cutting my lawn?”
Beanpole flipped up his aviator sunglasses. “Well, I’m pretty sure it’s because someone is paying me to do it.” Beanpole squinted a little against the early morning sun and Rodney felt something warm churn in the general region of his heart. “Unless you want to finish it up.”
“Me? Outside? No, no, no, no. I’m allergic to grass and bees and sun and citrus.”
“So, no mowing in your future. Got it.”
“Look,” Rodney started.
“John.”
“What?”
“John Sheppard. That’s my name.”
“Oh. Rodney McKay. That’s my name, I mean.”
“I know. Your landlord set me up to mow your lawn. Still, nice to meet you.” John pushed his sunglasses back on his nose and reached over to start the mower.
“No,” Rodney said, “I mean wait. I was sleeping when you started.”
“Well, some of us have to get an early start.”
“And some of us had a late night.”
“Sorry if my working interfered with your post Saturday night party recovery.”
“I wasn’t at a party,” Rodney sputtered. “I’ll have you know that I was in the lab till one o’clock. I’m a cultural exchange student at the university.”
“And where are you culturing from?”
“Canada,” Rodney snapped. “I was invited to spend two semesters here with the physics department. I’m a genius.”
“That’s great,” John said. “So, since you’re up already, can I finish the lawn?”
“I,” Rodney realized he should have shut up about three minutes ago. “Sure.” He walked to the house without looking back. The lawn mower was whirring before he shut the front door.
**********
Rodney spent the rest of Sunday pacing from room to room in the small house the university had provided for him. He dissected every second of his two minute conversation with John Sheppard, lawn boy.
He was being an idiot, he knew that; he was acting like some teenage girl obsessing over Sting. No, he was acting like a scientist. He was evaluating those moments spent with John Sheppard, lawn boy.
Had his eyes really been some ridiculously sparkly green? What kind of grown man (although he was probably only a year or two old than Rodney) made a living mowing lawns? What kept those shorts from sliding off those lean hips?
And what kind of a cultural exchange genius student kept thinking about how much he’d wanted to trace the path of that sweat droplet with his fingers and tongue?
********
Rodney half jogged to the library Monday morning, books in one hand and a Styrofoam cup of Krispy Kreme coffee in the other.
“So, why exactly are you at Stanford?”
Rodney stopped. There, leaning against the library door jamb, was his sexy beanpole, just as gorgeous as he remembered.
Rodney rolled his eyes. “Cultural exchange.”
John shot him a sly smile. “We have James Dean, The Ramones and football. What exactly does Canada bring to the table?”
“What does Canada bring to the table?” Rodney sputtered. “What does Canada bring to the table? How about insulin and Universal Healthcare?”
“And don’t forget Pablum,” John added helpfully.
“Yes, that and the walkie-talkie and the snowmobile and the pager-“
“And the foghorn,” John said, crossing his long, denim clad legs.
“The foghorn?” Rodney said.
“Yeah, although, technically Robert Foulis migrated to Canada from Scotland, it was still invented in Canada.”
Rodney shook his head. “I’m sorry? And how did you happen to know that?”
There was a hint of a blush on the John’s cheeks as he ducked his head. “I, uh, might have an excellent memory for trivia facts about foreign countries.”
“Or?”
“Or, I might have been checking out a few things in the Encyclopedia Canadiana.”
“Why would you-“
“Look, I think we might have gotten off to a bad start yesterday morning. Let’s try again.” John stood up straight and put his hand out. “I’m John Sheppard. I’m a full time student and a part time lawn guy.”
Rodney put his books on the step and wiped his hand on his jeans before extending it to John. “I’m Rodney McKay. Full time student, part time lab rat.”
“Nice to meet you, Rodney,” John smiled. “I’ve got a class but maybe we could meet later.”
“Meet for?”
John leaned forward and whispered hotly, “For whatever.”
“I’d like that,” Rodney said quickly, the moist heat of John's breath shockingly sensual. “I’d like that very much.”
“Okay then. See you around.”
It wasn’t until Wednesday that Rodney realized he didn’t get John’s phone number.
********
Maybe he’d read too much into that library encounter, Rodney decided by Friday afternoon. It had seemed like John Sheppard, sexy beanpole and part time lawn guy, had been not-so-covertly hitting on him but maybe not. The mating rituals of the closet cases were always difficult to decipher.
Still, why had John bothered to brush up on the glory that was Canada if not to impress him? Then again, why would somebody who looked like Sheppard try to impress him? It wasn’t that Rodney wasn’t aware of his own charms; he was an attractive man, even if he was a little on the skinny side. Still, the guys that he had sex with were generally other fast track lab rats.
By Saturday night, as he dragged himself out of the lab and started the mile hike to his house, he decided Sheppard was a prick tease. Just another jerk that was jealous of Rodney’s genius.
Sheppard was some good looking, good smelling jock who had cranked his chain a little. So what? He’d lived through worse and he only had twelve weeks left then he was back in Toronto for the holidays before doing the next leg of his cultural exchange stint at Cambridge.
He was Rodney McKay, and he had his own brilliant destiny; if John Sheppard didn’t want to make a cameo appearance, that was his problem.
And no matter what, he promised himself, absolutely no matter what, he was not going out to watch Sheppard play lawn boy tomorrow morning.
********
He was up by 7 on Sunday, teeth brushed, wild hair tamed, tight jeans and Lover Boy tee-shirt on. Rodney grabbed his most recent copy of AIP Journal of Mathematical Physics and a box of Sugar Smacks then planted himself at the kitchen table. If there happened to be a perfect view of the front yard, it was just coincidence. He was merely anxious to decimate the article that Mark Weston, massive moron and current lab rival, had published last month.
He absolutely wasn’t interested in mooning over Sheppard’s shirtless torso or sweat droplets.
Two hours and two notebooks filled with scathing rebuttals to Weston’s idiotic theory later, Rodney finally heard a lawn mower start up in his yard. He shoved another handful of Sugar Smacks into his mouth and willed his ass to stay planted in the chair.
Five minutes in, he knew he was a goner. He licked the sticky remnants from his fingers, took a deep breath and walked out.
It wasn’t John.
Some aging surfer type pushed the mower by Rodney with a quick nod of his blond head.
“Wait,” Rodney shouted over the machine’s whine. “Where’s John Sheppard? He’s supposed to cut my lawn.”
The surfer shrugged and shouted back, “Not sure. Company asked me to do this one.”
Rodney went back into the house. As he picked the journal back up, he tried to convince himself the sick feeling in his stomach was due to the half box of cereal he’d devoured.
********
Rodney spent so much time over the next two weeks pretending he wasn't looking for John, he almost didn’t see him in the courtyard in front of the library.
There, half reclining on the ground with a pretty brunette, was John Sheppard, part time lawn boy and, apparently, full time libertine. He was too far away to hear what they were saying but he could see they were laughing and entirely too comfortable in each other’s space.
God, he hated it when he was stupid! How had he managed to imagine that John had been interested in him? They’d spend ten minutes talking about the right of man to sleep in on Sunday and two minutes in front of the library talking about, well, nothing really.
Rodney thought about forgoing the library so he wouldn’t have to pass John and Little Miss Hot Pants’ mating dance but, screw it. What did he care if John ignored him? He had a paper to finish and the article he wanted to review was in that library.
He straightened his shoulders, put his Sheppard blinders on and started across the courtyard. He’d almost made it to the door when he heard John call his name. The temptation to keep walking was almost overwhelming.
“Rodney, hey,” John said.
“Sheppard,” he replied, trying to play it cool.
“How have you been?”
“What do you care?” he retorted. Playing it cool had never been his forte.
John looked a bit stung. Before he could answer Rodney, the brunette joined them. “I’ve got to get to class, babe,” she said, pressing a quick kiss to John's cheek.
“Oh, okay. Nancy, this is Rodney. He’s in the cultural exchange program. Rodney, this is Nancy.”
The brunette smiled a perfect toothed smile and Rodney realized it was possible to hate a total stranger. “Nice to meet you.”
“You, too,” Rodney managed as the simpering coed left them. “Well, it’s been real, Sheppard. Now if you’ll excuse me, I actually have important things to do.”
“Wait, Rodney,” John started.
“Wait for what exactly? A little more innuendo before you disappear for a couple of weeks then show up out of nowhere to rub your hot girlfriend in my face? I think I could do without a repeat of that, thanks.”
“It isn’t what you think.”
“Oh. You weren’t hitting on me before?”
“No. I mean yes.” John glanced around them but no one was paying attention to their conversation. “Yes.”
“And you didn’t disappear for couple of weeks?”
“Not technically but,” John rubbed the back of his neck, “well, I can see how you might think that.”
“And the coed with pert breasts and amazing dentition isn’t your girlfriend”
“Nancy? We… yeah, we’re dating.”
“So, what part of what I’m thinking isn’t what I think it is?”
“Rodney, please.” John looked almost desperate. Rodney knew he shouldn’t listen to any more of this but, honestly, he wanted to know what was going on and, God help him, he wanted Sheppard.
“Please what?”
“Let me come by and explain.”
“Okay, yeah. Come by tonight.”
“Okay. Great.”
“Yeah, great.” Rodney hoped he wasn’t making a huge mistake.
*********
He didn’t exactly primp for John but he wanted to look as least as good as he had the Sunday morning when aging surfer had mowed his lawn, so he put on his best tee-shirt and a little eye-liner after cleaning up his place and changing the sheets on the bed. The three months that he’d been a member of the Fort McMurray Eager Beavers, taught him to be ready for anything. That and that words really can hurt you.
Before he could start back down that middle school path, the doorbell rang.
Trying to maintain his dubious cool, Rodney opened the door and nearly swallowed his tongue.
John looked amazing; his hair was floppy and his eyes were sparkly and he seemed nearly as anxiously uncomfortable as Rodney.
“Hey,” John said.
“Hey,” Rodney managed.
“Are you going to let me in?”
“What? Oh sure,” Rodney said, letting John pass by and closing the door behind them. “Did you want a beer or something?”
“Sure, that would be great.” John said following Rodney into the kitchen. Rodney grabbed two beers and when he turned to hand one to John, he was crowded up against the refrigerator. “Rodney,” John whispered against his lips then kissed him.
Rodney barely had a chance to kiss him back when John stepped back. “I’m sorry, Rodney. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“No, no, no, no! You absolutely should have.” Rodney set the beers on the kitchen table. “We can talk second, if that works for you.”
John smiled and Rodney felt the world tilt a bit. Red DANGER lights flashed in his brain and he kissed John again. And again.
“This is stupid,” Rodney said.
“I would have gone with overwhelming,” John said, his lips a little swollen and the tail of shirt pulled out of his jeans.
“That, too, but I meant the location. I have a perfectly good bedroom with a great view of the lawn. I understand you like that sort of thing.”
John laughed, a ridiculous braying noise that Rodney immediately found endearing. “I do, as a matter of fact.”
********
Rodney woke up face down on his pillow; John sprawled next to him, snoring softly. He turned his head to look at him, trying not to feel too much like a creepy stalker but, God, this guy was hot. Rodney had slept with his fair share of attractive lab rats but none came close to John.
“You’re awake,” John murmured, opening one eye.
“You’re gorgeous,” Rodney blurted.
“Thanks,” John said, sitting up against the pillows. “Um, you, too.”
Rodney rolled to his side. “Um, thanks.”
John rubbed his eyes. “I wasn’t blowing you off before. I had to go home. My mom was having some issues and she needed me. By the time I thought about giving you a call, I was already at the cabin and I didn’t have your number.”
Rodney knew about family issues; his own parents could hardly stand the sight of each other yet refused to do the courteous thing and get a divorce. They’d been tormenting Rodney and his younger sister with the ruins of their marriage for as long as Rodney could remember.
“You weren’t under any obligation to call me, John. We barely know each other.”
John slipped his hand under the sheet and cupped Rodney’s half erect cock. “We’ve made some progress in that area.”
Rodney wanted nothing more than to push up into John’s hand and start round three but he had to know. “And what about Nancy?”
John moved closer to Rodney, licking at a small bruise he’d sucked there a couple of hours before. “What about Nancy? “
“I don’t know, John,” Rodney said putting some space between them. “How about the fact that you’re ‘dating’ her and you’ve spent the last couple of hours fucking me? I don’t want a jealous girlfriend stabbing me in the lunch line if she finds out.” He sat up so that he was next to John, back against the headboard. “I mean, I could have said no but you’re hot and apparently in the closet and willing to cheat so-“
“Rodney, it’s a little more complicated than that.”
“I’m a genius. Try explaining it to me.”
“I could use that beer now, if you don’t mind.”
Rodney padded naked to the kitchen, snagged two beers and brought them back to the bedroom. John had tugged his jeans back on and was sitting on the edge of the bed; Rodney sat down beside him.
John took a long pull on the beer then sighed. “I’ve wanted to fly for as long as I can remember, Rodney. I honestly don’t recall wanting to do anything other than be pilot.” John lay back, staring up at the ceiling. “I can’t explain the sensation, the speed, the sense of rightness flying gives me.”
Rodney set his beer on the night stand and lay down beside him. John was silent for so long, Rodney thought he had fallen back asleep. “John?”
“Sorry, just trying to… Look, my dad is the kind of guy that thinks he has to decide everything for everyone. By the time I was 14, he pretty much had my life planned out and it did not include being an Air Force pilot.”
“Air Force pilot?”
“Yeah, I’m going into the Air Force after I graduate.”
“Wow. I’m not sure… Wait, so that’s why you’re with Nancy? Does she know that you’re gay?”
“I’m bisexual and she knows I plan to go into the Air Force.”
“Excuse me, bisexual and I meant does she know you fuck guys?” Rodney said a little meanly.
“Nancy knows everything she wants to know and I’m dating her because she’s a wonderful person.”
“And where do I fit into this?”
“Wherever you want to fit in, Rodney. I like you and you seem to like me. We could be-“
“Fuck buddies?”
“Little crude but-“
“But accurate.” Rodney said.
He could do a lot worse than a sexy, future pilot with daddy (and mommy) issues, a beard for girlfriend, a death wish and a desire to fuck on a regular basis. Besides, he would be back in Toronto by the holidays. How much of mess could this turn into by December?
Rodney straddled John then leaned down as if to kiss him. “You convinced me, John. I'm in and if you’d get rid of these jeans, you could be in, too.”
*********
Rodney scooted around the house, picking up the worst of the mess. If he’d learned anything about John Sheppard in the last two months it was the man was a not-so-secret neat freak. Since John had two roommates, they spent most of their time at Rodney’s house. There, they had Rodney’s game console, HBO and unlimited privacy.
It was weird, Rodney thought, as he quickly changed the sheets. In the beginning, the unlimited privacy was all he cared about. They’d barely close the front door before their clothes came off. He’d fucked Sheppard on the living room floor more often than the bed the first couple of weeks. “Fuck me harder,” “do that again” and “right there!” had been the entirety of their conversations.
Then somewhere around week three, Rodney had spied John loping down a hallway in the math building and something tightened in his chest. I held that guy in my arms last night, he’d thought, as John turned down a corridor.
Rodney had watched him sleep, heard him sing (horribly) in the kitchen and kissed him goodbye in the morning. He knew how John’s skin tasted, how the sweat rolled off his face when they fucked and that he wanted, more than anything, to fly.
He was suddenly struck by the wrongness of his ignorance. John wasn’t some quick screw, some lab rat wanting maximum relief with minimum effort. He was, well, he was John.
“Sheppard!” he’d shouted down the hall. He’d taken John out to lunch that day and pretended he didn’t see the big red Danger sign flashing over them as they picked at mushroom burgers and discussed John’s amazing math ability.
“You could do so much with that math brain,” Rodney had groused.
“I am going to do something with my math brain-I’m going to fly and I’m going to serve my country.”
“I meant you could do research. Listen, John, there’s a world, heck, a galaxy out there waiting for people like you and me to discover it. Think about it, ‘McKay and Sheppard Explore the Universe.’”
“Well, if it was ‘Sheppard and McKay’ and you could guarantee we’d fly there, I might be interested.”
That afternoon, with a hint of fall just under the bright sunlight, was the first time Rodney appreciated what an amazing gift he’d been given in John Sheppard.
“You’re not just a fuck buddy,” he’d bussed against John’s temple as they lay panting on Rodney’s bed.
“I had kind of hoped I’d been promoted to friend with benefits,” John laughed.
Now, six weeks later, he and Sheppard were… well, he wasn’t sure what they were but he did know he didn’t want to give him up. Not in three weeks, not in three years. It wasn’t just the sex. It was the everything.
Rodney picked a couple of towels off the bathroom floor and shoved them into the hamper. John wasn’t due for another hour so he’d have plenty of time to decimate the last idiotic theory that Mark Weston was getting ready for submission.
He’d just drawn the first red line under the first sentence in Weston’s laughable attempt at science when the doorbell rang. John had been offered a key several times but had turned Rodney down. “What would your neighbors think if I had a key, Rodney?”, he'd said on more than one occasion.
It had hurt more than he cared to admit that John so vigilantly hid their affair.
The doorbell rang again before Rodney could swing the door open. “Jesus, Sheppard, give a guy a…”
Standing on his porch, petite and perfect, was Nancy.
“What are you doing here?” he asked sharply. He and Nancy had studiously ignored one another over the last two months; Rodney had no problem with keeping the status quo.
“I need to talk to you, Rodney.”
“Why?”
“It’s about John.”
“Of course, it’s about John,” Rodney retorted, making no move to let her pass. “What else would we have to talk about? Is he all right?”
“That’s what I want to talk to you about.”
“He’s going to be here soon.”
“I know. I need to talk to you before then. Please, Rodney.”
He reluctantly stepped aside. “What’s so important?” he asked closing the door.
“Rodney, I don’t know any other way to do this than be blunt. You need to stop seeing John.”
Rodney snorted as he sat back on the sofa. “And why exactly would I do that.”
“Because you love him.” She perched on the edge of the chair across from him. “And because he loves you.”
Rodney felt that by-now-familiar tightening his chest. Huh. She was right; he did love John. That crazy need to hear his stupid laugh, the desire to sit with him while he slurped Cheerios and the willingness to pick towels up off the floor, that was love. How had he missed that?
“If what you say is true, I don’t see it as much of a deterrent.”
“I’ve known John since we were kids, Rodney. His dad has a summer place not far from ours. I know John seems like he’s got it all under control now but you don’t know how it was with his dad. John always says his dad runs the family like he runs his business.”
“His business?”
Nancy shot him a pitying look. “Do you guys do anything but screw? Sheppard Utilities? His dad is that Sheppard.”
“Ah, well, I’m not from around here,” Rodney said. How had the fact John was a rich kid not come up in conversation. “Wait, if he’s got money, why does he work mowing lawns? And why does he have those ridiculous frat boy roommates?”
“I assume he told you he doesn’t get along with his dad? His dad doesn’t want him in the Air Force. He wants John to get his MBA and work for the family business. When John got the scholarship to Stanford, his dad told him to go to his alma mater instead and he’d pay for everything. John told him no.”
“So, his dad cut him off?” Rodney wondered briefly what it was like to have parents with the financial capability to smooth the way.
“More than cut him off from the money, he cut him off from the family.”
“I thought he went to see his mother at the beginning of the semester.”
“Phoebe Sheppard isn’t part of the family anymore. She crossed John's dad one too many times.”
“Not that I’m not loving this heartwarming tale, Nancy, but I don’t really think John would appreciate you telling this. If he wants me to know about his family, he’ll tell me when he’s ready.”
“I’m telling you because I hope it will help you understand why you’ve got to break-up with him.”
“Break-up? You’re the one dating him,” he said bitterly. "I'm just a fuck buddy."
“Two months ago, I would have agreed with you.” She ran her hand through her hair. “It’s different this time. He’s talking about going into research instead of the Air Force. His whole life has been about flying, Rodney. He gave up his family for this and now he’s going to throw it away.”
“Maybe he’s tired of hiding who he is, Nancy. Maybe he doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life pretending to be straight. If he joins the Air Force, he’ll have to hide who he is for his whole career. Do you know that in 1981 your Department of Defense put out a new policy that states that homosexuality is incompatible with military service? Is that what you want for him?”
“I want him to be happy, Rodney. That’s what I want for him. What do you want for him? I’ve listened to him drone on for ten years about flying. I watched him stand up to his father and I’ve watched him put his dream above everything. Everything but you, Rodney.”
“You give me too much credit.”
“Do I? Whose dream is it to be a research scientist? Who had the dream to ‘explore the universe’? You or him?”
“And I’m sure you’re being completely altruistic here, Nancy. If I let him go, then what? Will you do the same?”
“I’m no threat to his dream, Rodney. If anything, I can help his Air Force career.” She stood. “Are you able to say the same? Would you be able to support his career? Spend your life pretending to be his, what? Friend? Cousin? Or would you really make him choose you over the Air Force?”
Rodney stood, too, walking her to the door.
“Just think about what I said. I know you’ll do the right thing, Rodney. Despite our differences, we both want John to be happy.”
Rodney sat back on the sofa, article forgotten.
*********
“Sorry!” John said when Rodney answered the door. “I got caught at the last house. As much as I like the extra money, I’ll be glad when I'm only doing half the lawns. Once it cools down a little more,” he added dropping a pizza box on the kitchen table. “I usually do some tutoring after the holidays to make up the cash flow difference.”
“That’s when the math morons finally realize that they’ve got to pull it together or they won’t get the ‘D’ they need to scrape by on their way to academic mediocrity.” Rodney opened the pizza box, half double meat and half double veggie. He pulled out a piece and put it on a plate.
John slid a piece of double veggie on his own plate and started to pick the toppings off, popping them into his mouth one at a time.
Was Nancy right? What if she was right? Would it really be so bad if John went into academia instead of the Air Force? They could be happy couldn’t they? They were happy now, weren’t they? Sitting in his kitchen, talking and eating and laughing just like they had a hundred times before, wasn’t this what it could be like for the rest of their lives?
He wasn’t sure when John Sheppard became the center of his world but there was no denying he was crazy about the guy. If someone had asked him just a few months ago if he believed in love and happily ever after, he would have gladly eviscerated them. What did he know about love? He saw how it made people bitter, like his own family. He saw how it drove people away, like John’s family.
John had apparently taken Rodney’s off the cuff remark about them discovering the universe together to heart. He’d thought about it enough that he’d run it past Nancy, the only other person privy to John’s secrets and dreams.
Would it be so wrong to keep his mouth shut? To encourage John choose him over everything else?
And if he did, how would it be in year? In two? In ten? Would John grow to hate him like his parents hated each other? Would Rodney grow jealous and desperate, trying to hold on to John? Would John eventually resent him? Would he look up at the sky and realize what Rodney had stolen from him?
Did Rodney want to be that guy that took and took and took until there was nothing left? Was Nancy right? Did Rodney love John enough to do the right thing?
“Hey, buddy,” John said, “is something wrong?”
“What?”
“Is something wrong? You’re quiet and you’re not eating.”
“Oh. I’m not really hungry.” The concern in John’s eyes was something he’d learned to take for granted. It would be so easy, so freaking easy, to forget about Nancy’s self-righteous speech.
“John, we need to talk.”
“That’s a little ominous,” John said guardedly.
“Hardly,” Rodney said, getting up from the table and pacing the length of the tiny kitchen. “I think we should stop seeing each other.”
“Are you mad because I was late? I told you I was sorry; it took longer at the last house than I thought it would.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, John,” he said. “It’s been great. I mean you’ve had fun, too, right?” He took a deep breath, swallowing down the threatening nausea. “We’ve had some great cultural exchange,” he said, making it as lewd as possible.
“Cultural exchange,” John repeated tonelessly.
“Isn’t that what the university experience is all about? Going different places, trying different things,” he smiled at John, “being with different people.”
John said nothing and Rodney could see the confusion in those sparkling green eyes. He wanted to tell John he was kidding, that he was sorry but he knew he couldn’t.
“I’ll be leaving for Toronto in another couple of weeks and there’s a fellow lab rat, Mark Weston, I’ve been thinking about hooking up with before I go.”
“Mark Weston? The guy you said has the intelligence of used rodent bedding?”
Rodney shrugged. “My attraction isn’t to his brains, Sheppard.”
“Is this some kind of game because of Nancy? I swear, I’m not sleeping with her. I haven’t since you and I…”
“Really? Well, I would have if she was my ‘girlfriend.’ You certainly didn’t have to stop banging her on my account.”
John stood and held Rodney by his shoulders. “Why are you doing this, Rodney?” he said, the hurt evident on his face. “Why are you saying this shit?”
“I’m not saying anything that isn’t true. How did you think this would end? I’m going to Cambridge next semester; I'm being fast tracked, John because I'm just that good. The sky is the limit for me. In another year, you’ll be enlisting in the homophobic Air Force with Nancy at your side. You said it yourself, Sheppard-fuck buddies.”
“Rodney,” John said quietly, looking fragile and brave.
John was going to say he loved him; Rodney could see it about to supernova right before his eyes. He couldn’t bear it, couldn’t hear it and still do the right thing.
“What, Sheppard? Did you want a quickie for the road?” He looked up coyly through his lashes, “Of course, it wouldn’t have to be too quick.”
“I think I’d better go,” John said quietly. Rodney saw the shutters come down in Sheppard’s eyes.
“Maybe you should," Rodney said. God, he hadn't known he could hurt this bad and all he wanted to do was take the grief he'd put on John's face away. “See you around, Sheppard.”
“Yeah, see you around, Rodney.”
Rodney watched from his kitchen window until John disappeared. “Goodbye, John,” he whispered to the dark against the glass. “Be happy.”
He glimpsed John once before he left for Toronto. A sexy beanpole in a black hoodie, blue jeans and untied Converse strolling across the library courtyard, holding books in one arm and Nancy in the other.
Rodney was convinced he’d never seen anything as painfully beautiful as John Sheppard that December morning; he was sure he never would.
Whenever he heard a lawn mower, even years later, he thought of John and wondered if he was happy, if he’d ever fulfilled his dream of flight.
********
Epilogue
It was amazing how the streets of Atlantis literally lit up under every step John Sheppard took. A secretly cherished dream come true after all these years-“McKay and Sheppard Explore the Universe.”
Of course, in Rodney’s dreams Sheppard didn’t treat him like an annoying stranger. As much as it hurt to see the lack of warmth in those incredible eyes, there was comfort in knowing that John had done it-he’d become the Air Force pilot.
For years Rodney had worried he’d done the wrong thing by letting Nancy talk him into leaving John. Now, as he watch how smoothly John interacted with the Athosians and how comfortably he moved among the soldiers, he realized how much of John’s talents would have been wasted in Academia. He’d done the right thing. How ironically painful that the best thing he'd ever done for John was to leave him.
A month in Pegasus was a lifetime on Earth. Sumner was dead, Sheppard was military commander. They were a galaxy from the SGC and, oh by the way, the space vampires were awake and hungry.
Rodney found little time to moon over Sheppard which was good, he supposed. Two decades was way too long to still carry a torch, even if the guy was smoking hot.
He’d been in the lab the better part of a twenty five hour day when he caught a transporter up to his quarters. “Sheppard?”
“Hey, McKay,” Sheppard said. He was leaning on the wall next to Rodney’s doorway. “I was talking to Zelenka and he said you were finally coming up to your quarters.”
“You were talking to who?”
“Zelenka. Never mind. Have you got minute?”
“Uh, sure,” Rodney said, palming open his door. “What can I do for you, Major?”
“Nancy told me, Rodney.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Just after we divorced, she told me.”
“You married her?”
“You told me to do it.”
“I most certainly did not.” He couldn’t believe he still jealous of that woman.
“You did, when you broke up with me.”
“I didn’t break up with you, Major,” Rodney said, his voice starting to rise. “We weren’t together, we were fuc-“,
“We were together, Rodney, and you broke up with me.” John said. “Nancy told me everything. How she convinced you to break it off, how she talked you into being the fall guy for the whole thing. You shouldn’t have done it, McKay.”
“I wanted to do it,” he said quickly, afraid he wouldn’t have the courage to say it if he thought about it. “I loved you. I wanted to give you everything.”
John laughed that stupid donkey laugh of his. “You broke my heart back then, Rodney.”
“If it’s any consolation, I broke my heart back then, too.”
"Oddly, it's not."
Rodney sighed; he'd hoped at the very least they could find a way to be friends. "Why are you even bothering to bring this up, Major? You've moved on and even if you hadn't, you're still in the homophobic Air Force."
"Technically, I'm in the don't ask, don't tell Air Force."
"How does that make it any better, really? You could still be kicked out if anyone knew you were gay."
"Kicked out to where exactly?" John said. "We're isolated from the SGC. Hell, we're cut off from the Milky Way. We're short on food and ZPM power and we're being chased by the Wraith. I think our people have more things to worry about than our sex lives. We're not kids anymore; I think we could be discreet."
Rodney felt hope, slender and sweet, start to wind its way to his heart. "John," he said, opening his arms to embrace him.
John shook his head. “There’s only one way to fix this.”
Rodney nodded, crushed. “I am sorry. I’ll try to stay out of your way as much as possible. Which will be hard because I’m kind of important here-“
“Stop, Rodney. Look, I think we got off to a bad start 18 years ago so I’d like to try again.” John held out his hand, “I’m John Sheppard, full time Air Force major and part time idiot.”
Rodney wiped his hand on his pants before taking Sheppard’s hand. “I’m Rodney McKay, full time Astrophysicist and sometime recipient of second chances.”
John tugged on Rodney’s hand until he came into his arms and brushed a soft kiss across his lips. “And, Rodney?” he said, his voice filled with wonder, “Try not to blow it this time.”
“Not this time,” Rodney promised.
Fin
**
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