Reposting FIC: Promise (SGA)
Title: Promise
Author: morena_donn
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard preslash
very mild spoilers for season 2
Thanks as usual to my wonderful beta brindel
A/N Inspired by Honeymoon Suite's Love Fever. (I know, I know, kind of an insipid title, but it's an excellent song and perfect for the pairing.) I wanted to make a video, but don't have the equipment or knowledge, so I wrote this instead.
Disclaimer: Just for fun, no copyright infringement intended
John Sheppard stood by the makeshift refreshment table with Rodney McKay and reflected that the party was not going well.
These days, Atlantis was not a pleasant place to live. With the Wraith temporarily vanquished, they had space to breathe, but people had forgotten how to relax, and tensions between the various groups were rising. The influx of soldiers during the siege had broken the hard won cohesion between the original soldiers and scientists, and the new batch of civilians coming with the Daedalus hadn't helped any.
And so someone had seized on the idea of a party to break the ice and ease the tensions and return things to some semblance of what passed for normal in the Pegasus galaxy. It was one of those ideas that worked better in theory than in practice, John thought bemusedly. People were *not* mixing: even the clumps of scientists and soldiers forming around the room were divided more or less between old and new. He himself wasn't providing a good example, hanging out as he was with McKay, but he really didn't feel like talking to anyone else.
And then some genius started the music. Some of the more uninhibited began dancing, and soon all the groups were working together to clear a space. The lights were dimmed and the music was turned up higher, and gradually higher still. The little clumps of scientist blue and soldier green broke apart as more and more people took the dance floor.
John could feel his body practically vibrating with desire to join them, but he knew that if he left McKay, McKay would leave the party, and if anyone needed to relax here, it was Rodney. So he contented himself with tapping his foot and singing along under his breath.
Finally, Rodney nudged him. "Go on, I can tell you want to."
"And will you be here when I get back?" John demanded.
Rodney gave him a surprised look, as if wondering why he cared. "Probably not," he admitted.
"Then I'm not going anywhere, because they're right, we did need this, and you’re not leaving until you at least put in an effort." He put a hand on the tense muscle at the base of McKay's neck and squeezed gently.
"C'mon, dance. You need to relax."
"And making an idiot of myself will relax me how?" Rodney replied, looking over the dancers with distaste. Some people had no sense of dignity whatsoever. He said as much to John, adding, " I'd rather shoot myself in the foot."
John had to strain to hear him over the rising beat.
Just this one time, let me in.
Just this one time, let me take you down.
I been waiting for too long now.
Let me show you how.
John felt like the lyricist had crawled into his head. That was exactly what he wanted to say to Rodney. "I could make it an order," he said instead. Bouncing to the beat, he stepped back and beckoned with his hand.
Rodney shook his head. "Fine, fine. If I dance with you will you leave me alone?" Rodney winced as the words sunk in. That hadn't come out quite the way he'd intended, but John didn't seem to mind.
Rodney followed his friend onto the floor and concentrated on not stepping on anyone while John moved gracefully through the space in front of him. It was rather mesmerizing, and Rodney found he'd been on the floor for two more songs before he managed to break away. John reluctantly followed him back to their former spot against the wall.
"Okay, I danced. Are you happy?" The room was growing dimmer, the music louder: John cupped a hand over his ear. "I hope you're happy because I'm leaving now," Rodney shouted, leaning into John to be sure he heard. "The music's too damn loud. I've never understood why amplifying sound to the point it damages one's ears is considered a good thing," he complained.
Personally, John was all in favor of anything that made Rodney breathe in his ear like that. But he just smiled. "I know what you mean," he shouted back, and followed Rodney into the hall.
The hallway seemed particularly bright in contrast to the room they'd just left. The music was still audible behind them, and John couldn't resist dancing one last time. He bounced a few times to establish the beat and then let his weight fall heavily on his right foot. Stepped behind with his left, and repeated, crossing in front this time. He felt Rodney staring, and stopped, blushing faintly.
"What is that?" Rodney asked.
"The start of a grapevine," John shrugged, then completed the step. Rodney was looking at him like he'd lost his mind. This was not an uncommon experience, but it wasn't the look he wanted to see right now, so he tried to explain.
"We moved around a lot when I was a kid, and somewhere along the line Mom got the brilliant idea of going to folkdance groups as a way to make new friends in new places. She didn't seem to realize that doing something so utterly uncool was not helping me fit in at school. I quit going as soon as I was old enough to stay home alone, but some of the steps stuck, and they work to pretty much anything with the right rhythm."
He grinned at Rodney, then started humming, starting another step to demonstrate.
"What is that?" Rodney repeated.
"Actually, I don't remember what it's called." John admitted "Feet have a better memory than my brain." John regretted saying that the moment the words left his mouth, but to his surprise Rodney passed up the opportunity to tease him.
"No, not that, the song," he clarified. "I liked it." "It was the first one we danced to," seemed to hang unsaid in the air between them.
"You don't recognize that?" John asked. "You're kidding, right? It's *Honeymoon Suite*. They're *Canadian*."
Rodney snorted. "Yes, and I'm personally acquainted with every damn Canadian on the planet because we're such a *small* country," he remarked derisively.
We are too far gone
To turn back now.
I’m breaking down you door
To get to you somehow
"Well, you should be acquainted with HMS." John countered. "They're good. In fact, I brought a few discs back with me. Wanna come to my room and listen?" To his surprise and delight, and possibly Rodney’s as well, Rodney agreed.
And so Rodney found himself in John's room, listening to a band that was much better than he'd expected, what with that less than inspired name. He was starting to relax and enjoy himself when he heard a familiar tune. It was the one that had been playing when John first demanded he dance.
Down the line I've been waiting
Down the line I need my share
Coming to get ya out of the shadows
Let me take you there
Rodney had a sudden vision of John gliding towards him on the dance floor, dark and dangerous. "You're beautiful," he blurted. "I mean that in a purely aesthetic sense, of course," he added immediately, wishing the ground would open up and swallow him.
John just looked at him. He wanted to return the compliment because Rodney *was* beautiful, but he couldn't, because Rodney wasn't, not in any conventional sense, and John didn't want Rodney thinking he was humoring him, and getting all pissy, or worse, realizing that John really meant it. John wasn't quite ready to face what that meant, and he didn't think Rodney was either.
Don't try and tell me
I'm not the one
Breaking the law of the love
I won't stop til I'm done
Rodney was looking embarrassed and slightly uncomfortable. John stood and held out his hand "Dance with me? I feel silly dancing by myself, and you still need to relax." For the second time that evening, Rodney surprised him by agreeing.
They laughed together as John showed Rodney more half remembered steps from his childhood torture. They had their arms over each other's shoulders, providing balance for a stomp/kick combo, when the music slowed. It seemed the most natural thing in the world for John to turn and take Rodney in his arms.
Well, natural in theory. In practice, it was a bit awkward, as they tried to work out whose hands went where, but they figured it out eventually, and stood swaying gently, arms around each other's waists. John nuzzled the sweaty skin at Rodney's temple. Rodney sighed and brushed his lips over John's jaw.
John wanted more than anything to capture those lips with his own. But he didn't dare. They had to talk, before things went any further because they just couldn't do casual, not given who and where they were. And, as much as he wanted to kiss Rodney, John didn't feel quite ready for that talk just yet.
So he settled for holding Rodney, close and safe. Rodney must have felt the same way, for he kept his lips to himself, but made no move to release John, even as the music picked up tempo. They'd have that talk someday soon, but for now John was happy with the promise of Rodney, strong and solid in the circle of his arms.
You are the only one now and I can't fight it
You give me love fever til I come undone
Everything I want, everything I need
You are the only one
Author: morena_donn
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard preslash
very mild spoilers for season 2
Thanks as usual to my wonderful beta brindel
A/N Inspired by Honeymoon Suite's Love Fever. (I know, I know, kind of an insipid title, but it's an excellent song and perfect for the pairing.) I wanted to make a video, but don't have the equipment or knowledge, so I wrote this instead.
Disclaimer: Just for fun, no copyright infringement intended
John Sheppard stood by the makeshift refreshment table with Rodney McKay and reflected that the party was not going well.
These days, Atlantis was not a pleasant place to live. With the Wraith temporarily vanquished, they had space to breathe, but people had forgotten how to relax, and tensions between the various groups were rising. The influx of soldiers during the siege had broken the hard won cohesion between the original soldiers and scientists, and the new batch of civilians coming with the Daedalus hadn't helped any.
And so someone had seized on the idea of a party to break the ice and ease the tensions and return things to some semblance of what passed for normal in the Pegasus galaxy. It was one of those ideas that worked better in theory than in practice, John thought bemusedly. People were *not* mixing: even the clumps of scientists and soldiers forming around the room were divided more or less between old and new. He himself wasn't providing a good example, hanging out as he was with McKay, but he really didn't feel like talking to anyone else.
And then some genius started the music. Some of the more uninhibited began dancing, and soon all the groups were working together to clear a space. The lights were dimmed and the music was turned up higher, and gradually higher still. The little clumps of scientist blue and soldier green broke apart as more and more people took the dance floor.
John could feel his body practically vibrating with desire to join them, but he knew that if he left McKay, McKay would leave the party, and if anyone needed to relax here, it was Rodney. So he contented himself with tapping his foot and singing along under his breath.
Finally, Rodney nudged him. "Go on, I can tell you want to."
"And will you be here when I get back?" John demanded.
Rodney gave him a surprised look, as if wondering why he cared. "Probably not," he admitted.
"Then I'm not going anywhere, because they're right, we did need this, and you’re not leaving until you at least put in an effort." He put a hand on the tense muscle at the base of McKay's neck and squeezed gently.
"C'mon, dance. You need to relax."
"And making an idiot of myself will relax me how?" Rodney replied, looking over the dancers with distaste. Some people had no sense of dignity whatsoever. He said as much to John, adding, " I'd rather shoot myself in the foot."
John had to strain to hear him over the rising beat.
Just this one time, let me in.
Just this one time, let me take you down.
I been waiting for too long now.
Let me show you how.
John felt like the lyricist had crawled into his head. That was exactly what he wanted to say to Rodney. "I could make it an order," he said instead. Bouncing to the beat, he stepped back and beckoned with his hand.
Rodney shook his head. "Fine, fine. If I dance with you will you leave me alone?" Rodney winced as the words sunk in. That hadn't come out quite the way he'd intended, but John didn't seem to mind.
Rodney followed his friend onto the floor and concentrated on not stepping on anyone while John moved gracefully through the space in front of him. It was rather mesmerizing, and Rodney found he'd been on the floor for two more songs before he managed to break away. John reluctantly followed him back to their former spot against the wall.
"Okay, I danced. Are you happy?" The room was growing dimmer, the music louder: John cupped a hand over his ear. "I hope you're happy because I'm leaving now," Rodney shouted, leaning into John to be sure he heard. "The music's too damn loud. I've never understood why amplifying sound to the point it damages one's ears is considered a good thing," he complained.
Personally, John was all in favor of anything that made Rodney breathe in his ear like that. But he just smiled. "I know what you mean," he shouted back, and followed Rodney into the hall.
The hallway seemed particularly bright in contrast to the room they'd just left. The music was still audible behind them, and John couldn't resist dancing one last time. He bounced a few times to establish the beat and then let his weight fall heavily on his right foot. Stepped behind with his left, and repeated, crossing in front this time. He felt Rodney staring, and stopped, blushing faintly.
"What is that?" Rodney asked.
"The start of a grapevine," John shrugged, then completed the step. Rodney was looking at him like he'd lost his mind. This was not an uncommon experience, but it wasn't the look he wanted to see right now, so he tried to explain.
"We moved around a lot when I was a kid, and somewhere along the line Mom got the brilliant idea of going to folkdance groups as a way to make new friends in new places. She didn't seem to realize that doing something so utterly uncool was not helping me fit in at school. I quit going as soon as I was old enough to stay home alone, but some of the steps stuck, and they work to pretty much anything with the right rhythm."
He grinned at Rodney, then started humming, starting another step to demonstrate.
"What is that?" Rodney repeated.
"Actually, I don't remember what it's called." John admitted "Feet have a better memory than my brain." John regretted saying that the moment the words left his mouth, but to his surprise Rodney passed up the opportunity to tease him.
"No, not that, the song," he clarified. "I liked it." "It was the first one we danced to," seemed to hang unsaid in the air between them.
"You don't recognize that?" John asked. "You're kidding, right? It's *Honeymoon Suite*. They're *Canadian*."
Rodney snorted. "Yes, and I'm personally acquainted with every damn Canadian on the planet because we're such a *small* country," he remarked derisively.
We are too far gone
To turn back now.
I’m breaking down you door
To get to you somehow
"Well, you should be acquainted with HMS." John countered. "They're good. In fact, I brought a few discs back with me. Wanna come to my room and listen?" To his surprise and delight, and possibly Rodney’s as well, Rodney agreed.
And so Rodney found himself in John's room, listening to a band that was much better than he'd expected, what with that less than inspired name. He was starting to relax and enjoy himself when he heard a familiar tune. It was the one that had been playing when John first demanded he dance.
Down the line I've been waiting
Down the line I need my share
Coming to get ya out of the shadows
Let me take you there
Rodney had a sudden vision of John gliding towards him on the dance floor, dark and dangerous. "You're beautiful," he blurted. "I mean that in a purely aesthetic sense, of course," he added immediately, wishing the ground would open up and swallow him.
John just looked at him. He wanted to return the compliment because Rodney *was* beautiful, but he couldn't, because Rodney wasn't, not in any conventional sense, and John didn't want Rodney thinking he was humoring him, and getting all pissy, or worse, realizing that John really meant it. John wasn't quite ready to face what that meant, and he didn't think Rodney was either.
Don't try and tell me
I'm not the one
Breaking the law of the love
I won't stop til I'm done
Rodney was looking embarrassed and slightly uncomfortable. John stood and held out his hand "Dance with me? I feel silly dancing by myself, and you still need to relax." For the second time that evening, Rodney surprised him by agreeing.
They laughed together as John showed Rodney more half remembered steps from his childhood torture. They had their arms over each other's shoulders, providing balance for a stomp/kick combo, when the music slowed. It seemed the most natural thing in the world for John to turn and take Rodney in his arms.
Well, natural in theory. In practice, it was a bit awkward, as they tried to work out whose hands went where, but they figured it out eventually, and stood swaying gently, arms around each other's waists. John nuzzled the sweaty skin at Rodney's temple. Rodney sighed and brushed his lips over John's jaw.
John wanted more than anything to capture those lips with his own. But he didn't dare. They had to talk, before things went any further because they just couldn't do casual, not given who and where they were. And, as much as he wanted to kiss Rodney, John didn't feel quite ready for that talk just yet.
So he settled for holding Rodney, close and safe. Rodney must have felt the same way, for he kept his lips to himself, but made no move to release John, even as the music picked up tempo. They'd have that talk someday soon, but for now John was happy with the promise of Rodney, strong and solid in the circle of his arms.
You are the only one now and I can't fight it
You give me love fever til I come undone
Everything I want, everything I need
You are the only one