Fic: C. Bergamia (1/3), McBeck, M
Title: C. Bergamia (1/3)
Author: Nicke
"co-writing" and beta: inkscribe
Pairing: Rodney McKay/Carson Beckett
Rating: M
Wordcount: 3375 (this part)
Prompt: lover100 # 075 Scent
Disclaimer, coverart & stuff: chapter index
A/N: This is a translated and slightly modificated version of a German fanfiction I wrote last year. And inkscribe did so much more than a simple grammar/spelling beta when she had a look at this. She worked her magic and turned this into something beautiful.
***
The taste of love is sweet
When hearts like ours meet
I fell for you like a child
Oh, and the fire went wild
Johnny Cash, Ring of fire
***
Prologue
2002,
Cafeteria in the Cheyenne Mountain Complex, Earth
When Sam Carter realised that it had been his, Rodney McKay's, assessment, which left her so little time to save her team mate's life, she practically jumped out of her chair. "God! You're a jerk!"
Of course, McKay knew that she - young, good looking and brilliant - actually had been right. But he would have never admitted it out loud, he rather had bitten off his tongue. So he chose the most bromidic way to defend himself. "I wish I didn't find you so attractive. I always had a real weakness for dumb blondes."
She'd looked at him disdainfully and hissed: "Go, suck a lemon!" The she stormed off the cafeteria.
"Very sexy. Very, very sexy," he'd murmured after her and continued shovelling the food he'd lost the appetite for long ago with faked gusto into his mouth.
4 years later
Infirmary of the Atlantis station, Pegasus galaxy
He'd protested, put up resistance, but Sheppard had treated him as if he was a child and with Ronon's help dragged him off to the infirmary. Damn the man, Rodney McKay thought, the injuries on his naked arm and above the knee just were scratches, not very deep, though they hurt like hell. A simple plaster and some ointment would have done. What he now needed was to get out of his stinky and dirty clothes, a hot shower and a real meal. McKay's desire for medical care tended towards zero. It wasn't just about the taking care of the wound, more like about the care taker himself.
Since the "incident" three weeks ago he barely had spoken more than necessary with Beckett. He'd ignored the man, missed the meals they had been starting to have together and which almost had become a habit, and basically stayed out of his way. And if Colonel pighead Sheppard, who usually made fun of his whining, for once listened to him, he'd not be in such trouble.
To call the situation Cadman had thrown him in deadly embarrassing would have been an understatement. Not enough that the fitness freak in his brain made him grab Carson Beckett, his fellow, colleague, and Chief Medical, by the lapels and pull him in - for a kiss! No, it had to be done in front of everybody's eyes and in his own lab. Thank you very much!
McKay swallowed his anger and clenched his teeth, while Ronon and Sheppard manhandled him over to the infirmary bed, Beckett had pointed at.
"Ouch! Watch it, you...," he cried out, as they dropped him rather carelessly against the bed and made him hit his knee. "Isn't it enough you dumped me head over heels into this nasty slimy whatever it is?"
Ronon shrugged his shoulders and gave him a derogatory gaze. "I pushed you outta the line of fire."
Grimmly McKay looked down along his frame. What had made him step through the gate and onto that planet wearing a short sleeved shirt? He had no idea what covered his arms and the front of his uniform, and he surely didn't feel the need to actually analyse the slimy substance that above all burned like hell in his wounds. It weren't excrements, about that he was sure, probably the half-rotten remainders of some plants. He looked up and threw Dex a menacing glare. But before he was able to address the tall Satedan, Beckett waved off Sheppard and Ronon from the bed with a small gesture.
"You may discuss later who's to be blamed," he gently said and pulled on his latex gloves. "But now I'd like to look after my patient. What happened?" he asked and checked out the wounds on McKays right upper arm and above his left knee.
Disgusted Sheppard looked at the slime on his hands and wiped it into his pants.
"We were trying to escape the natives and he tumbled down a slope and when we ran through the forest towards the gate..."
"I was thrown rather roughly into a puddle of slime."
"We were under fire, Rodney. Or had you rather Dex not getting you out of the line of fire? You might have made it back through the gate with your legs first," Sheppard explained determinedly to the scientist. Then he turned to Beckett. "How bad is it?"
Beckett looked up and reached for a pair of scissors on the table. "He's been lucky, these are practically only scratches, from some sharp edged stones I guess by the look of it. Just a bit to the left and he could've hurt his collarbone. The protective vest caught he most." He turned to Rodney. "You'll spot a few black spots nonetheless tomorrow. Looks like this is some really nasty stuff, it may be burning in your wounds," he explained while he cut the cords that kept the vest together and gently shoved the front piece aside. "I'm going to cut away your uniform, please stay still for a moment, will you?"
McKay bit his tongue, holding back the nasty comment and stuck to the doctor's orders. Not to imagine what might happen if the Scot slipped and thrust the scissors into his already injured shoulder. As some sort of sweet revenge for the humiliation he'd suffered from three weeks ago. A light shiver shook his body as the cold metal scraped over his naked chest. Carefully he watched every movement of the physician.
"Rodney, please keep still!" Beckett asked gently, completely without reproach in his voice and for a moment looked at him. McKay swallowed and called himself a fool when there was nothing but concern in the doctor's eyes. He took a deep breath and rested his head back against the bed.
The material gave way to the scissors with a soft sound and he felt Beckett's gloved fingers carefully push the fabric aside.
"Um, we... You surely don't need us around, doc, do you?" Sheppard asked, wrinkling his nose.
Without looking up from his task, Beckett told them they weren't needed and that McKay was free to leave after the treatment. Sheppard reminded McKay of his report, said his goodbye and with Dex left the infirmary.
"This is going to hurt a bit," Beckett warned as he prepared to clean the wound.
"Tell me something new," Rodney said with a theatrical sigh that turned into a pained cry as Beckett touched the pad with the medicine onto Rodney's skin. "Are you mad?!"
"Please keep still, Rodney," Beckett asked again and pressed him back against the bed. "Relax and..."
"Maybe I don't want to relax, Carson," Rodney fumed, suddenly annoyed by Beckett's calm. How could this guy be so cool in every situation he was thrown in?
"I had a really, really bad day. I nearly was shot by some pegasus-galactic hillbillies, fell down a slope, skinned my shoulder and got injured above my knee and as if that wasn't bad enough I also got dumped into a pool of this really stinky slimy stuff I'm covered in from tip to toe that also burns like hell." He made a small pause and then sulkily added: "And above all I missed dinner."
"I am truly sorry for you, really. If you let me do my job, you'll be out of here within a matter of minutes." His hand rested on McKay's shoulder and Rodney could have sworn to have heard the "or else..." that threateningly hung in the air. He sceptically sized up Beckett who held his gaze. Why had he never before noticed that Carson's eyes sometimes rather looked grey than blue?, he suddenly found himself thinking. Confused, he tried to push away the thought and shook his head.
"Well," he finally said and took a deep breath. Resigning into his fate he closed his eyes and let Beckett do his work. A few times he was about to bring up the incident that had happened three weeks ago, but he didn't dare. Probably Carson was just as embarrassed as he was and it was better not to mention it ever again. Sleeping dogs, Rodney thought and tried thinking of something completely different while Beckett turned to tending the wound on his thigh.
"I have to cut off the trouser leg," Carson excused as he cut off the material of the uniform a few inches above the knee.
"Well, I seriously doubt someone will mourn the loss of a piece of uniform," McKay gave back and tried not to think about the fact that he was practically naked under Carson's critical eyes on the infirmary bed while the physician pushed the cut-off leg down his leg.
Why did these kind of things always happen to him, he wondered. Ever since he'd been working for the military on that damn programme some things in his life really had gone bad. He remembered the first time he saw a real Stargate in the Cheyenne Mountain Complex and still had Carter's acid order in his ears to go and suck a lemon. Unable to suppress a shudder he remembered the time he had been allowed to spend in Russia...
It had started all so well in Antarctica, he even became something like friends with a handful of people. Amongst them, Carson Beckett. But this damn incident now hung between them and he had no idea how to get out of it ever again. But maybe he was just being paranoid and over dramatising things? Because this horrible kiss obviously didn't seem to bother Carson at all. At least he didn't show anything. Oh my god, Rodney thought, he couldn't simply go and tell Carson: "look, I'm sorry about the kiss". Or could he?
But that exactly was the crucial point. Because if he was brutally honest with himself, he had to admit, that kiss didn't bother him as much as he'd been announcing loudly and repeatedly during the last three weeks. The circumstances which led up to it, were a different matter, though.
The whole humiliating drama.
Firstly being taken for mad because he'd been talking to Cadman who had taken up residence in his brain.
Waking up naked and with inexplicably aching muscles in a room that wasn't his.
The dinner with Katie and Carson which he, due to the hurriedly drowned white wine, only vaguely remembered.
And the crowning act: in front of everybody's eyes kissing Carson - fully on the mouth.
But maybe this wasn't exactly the right moment - feeling Carson's hand close to his crotch - to think about the kiss and how it made him feel.
Fortunately the iodine Carson used for disinfecting burned like fire, he thought as Carson resumed cleaning the wound.
"This really looks nasty," Carson softly said. "Does it hurt much?"
McKay suppressed a sigh. "Well, I remember much more pleasant experiences. And yes, this stuff really burns like hell. But against common belief I am actually able to restrain myself and need not constantly whine about little injuries."
"Yes, yes, Rodney, I know, you're the genius whose brilliant mind controls the weak matter." Beckett's hand with the swab stilled and he gave his patient a look Rodney was barely to read. Something in between reproachful and wearily and Rodney immediately went into defensive mode.
"Carson, that horrible thing with Cadman, the..." He didn't even dare saying the word "kiss" out loud.
"It's okay, Rodney, there's no need to mention it again."
"But I am... I'm sorry, Carson, I... look, you... I," helplessly he gestured with his hand. Carson didn't do anything to make it easier for him.
Carson's expression darkened for a moment, then he turned away and continued to clean the wound. "Rodney, I can imagine that this may be as embarrassing for you as it is for me. But there's no reason for you to apologise for something you're technically not even to be held liable..."
"You may have a point there, Carson. Technically speaking it may not have been my fault. But damn it, it were my hands on your lapels, my lips on yours and within an inch Cadman would have been playing hockey with my tongue and your tonsils," McKay barked angrily. Realising what he just said, he slapped his hand over his mouth. God, had he really just said what he thought he did say? Could there please appear some black hole and swallow him whole? Luckily the infirmary was almost deserted, only in the far corner a nurse was tending to a patient and two lab assistants were running around, obviously working on an experiment and not having eyes or ears for anything else he realised with a quick look around.
Carson stared at him for a few horrible seconds, open mouthed and McKay thought he was going to die from sheer embarrassment. To call Sam Carter a dumb blonde hadn't really been one of his brightest ideas but this one was really the icing to the cake.
Then Carson's features relaxed and the physician grinned at him. "Just relax, Rodney there's no need for staring at me this horrified." He winked and then added: "Well, it could have been worse."
Before McKay was able to ask for Beckett's explanation of "worse", one of the lab assistants called for the Scot.
"Coming," he shouted over his shoulder and turned towards McKay again. "To take the safe route I'm giving you a tetanus shot and put a spray plaster on the wound, so you can take a shower and get that nasty stuff off. I'll drop by later at your's and bandage it," Beckett said determinedly and reached for the syringe.
Thinking of Carson, tending to his injuries in his quarters was making Rodney a little nervous. He imagined himself lying on his bed, wet hair and wearing a terrycloth bathrobe while Carson sat on the edge of the bed, pushing the fabric aside, to take care of his wounds. Warm, skilful fingers, softly brushing over his skin and...
"That won't be necessary," McKay waved off the offer and tried to push away the thoughts. "Just give me a batch of plaster and some ointment and I'll do it myself."
"No arguments," Beckett raised the syringe. "And now it's your choice, Rodney. Shoulder, thigh or buttocks?"
"Excuse me?!"
"Tetanus vaccination is intramuscular, Rodney, you know the procedure, sideways in the buttocks, into the shoulder or thigh muscle." Beckett smiled at him. "Most of the patients prefer the backside, because the muscle's stronger there and the vaccine diffuses better. Well?"
"You know what I think, Carson?" McKay raised his index finger. "I think, deep down inside and behind that friendly smile you're a sadist who truly enjoys watching his patients suffer." Stubbornly he pushed his chin forward and sceptically eyed the doctor. "Isn't there another possibility?"
"You may as well risk getting tetanus, you hero. But this is going to hurt much more than this tiny - needle."
Releasing a deep, weary sigh, Rodney unbuttoned his trousers and rolled onto his side. Slowly and carefully avoiding to embarrass himself even more, he pushed down his trousers and his boxers a little. Carson seemed to immensely enjoy himself, watching Rodney in this humiliating pose. Injured, covered in this stinky slimy substance and with his trousers almost around his ankles.
Rodney felt Carson's warm, gloved hand brush across his skin as he pushed down the waistband some more and tried not to think of where else Carson could put his hand, of he wanted to... Damn, he needed to think of something else, he reprimanded himself. Russia, he thought. The horrible grub that gave him three indigestions within five months.
Beckett sanitised McKay's buttock cheek and gave him the injection while Rodney tried to think of snow storms and icy winds. He wouldn't let it happen that the Scot's hand on his arse caught him off guard! He wasn't that desperate! But when the physician pulled out the needle and with his palm massaged the muscle, he couldn't help releasing a soft moan.
"You alright?" Carson asked with concern without taking his hand from Rodney's back.
'Of course,' Rodney wanted to shout, 'I just think, you overestimated my brilliant mind sooner and now my ass and my dick conspire against me to teach me a lesson in humility.'
He hoped, his voice wouldn't leave him also. "No," he started and decided he sounded much too shrill. He cleared his throat and tried to make his voice sound deeper. "No," he repeated. "It's... it's alright. Really. It just... stung... a bit. Yes.." He felt the blood rushing to his cheeks. Bloody brilliant, he was riding for a fall! He of all people, the ever eloquent, brilliant speaker, who always and for everyone had the right comment and never was short of a reply.
"Oh, really?" Carson's voice sounded deep and seductive and his Scottish brogue seemed more distinctive than before and Rodney felt the blood rushing in his ears. He felt the warmth radiating from Carson's body and the smell clinging to his white lab coat slowly saturating his senses. He tried to focus on what exactly it was he smelled. A mixture of medicaments, disinfectants, shower gel, soap or cologne, sweat and something else he wasn't able to classify, but which distinctively reminded him of something.
The hand on his buttocks first slid down and then pulled up the trousers. Nudged him gently at the hip and tried to make him roll onto his back again. Stubbornly Rodney stared to the side and down to the floor, hoping the hand together with the doctor would simply disappear. But something told him, he might be hoping in vain. For a moment the hand rested on his hip, then the thumb gently brushed across the bone.
"I'm going to have a look at Chen's and Miller's experiment. Rodney," Carson softly explained and pulled back his hand.
McKay felt relief, thankfulness and regret at the same time as Carson moved away from the infirmary bed and went over to the other side of the room. With shaking hands he pulled up the zipper and as it wouldn't go further, he lifted his hips and pulled the trousers up and rolled on his back.
He really needed to have sex anytime soon, he decided and wondered if he should give it a try to ask Katie Brown out for dinner. But he discarded the plan immediately. Katie was a very attractive young woman, no question. But he simply couldn't miss the fact how distinctly his body reacted to Carson's touches. Maybe he could persuade Carson to...
He squeezed his eyes shut and banged his head repeatedly against the bed. Persuade Carson to do what exactly? Have sex with him on a trial basis? He had to be crazy, Rodney thought. More crazy, more desperate or he had more serious injuries from this mind-meld with Cadman than he had been aware of. 'Think of it as some scientific experiment, Carson. Even Freud thought that theoretically we're all bisexual.'
McKay took a deep breath and opened his eyes. He needed to get away from the infirmary, from Carson's presence. He needed new clothes, a huge portion of something edible and a cold shower. Maybe not in exactly this order, but he was willing to reconsider the priorities. He raised his head and made sure, Carson was still busy.
When he was sure, Carson had his back to him, he abruptly sat up and hung his legs down over the edge of the bed. The shirt hung in pieces from his chest and the cut-off leg of the trouser slid down to the floor. Okay, he wouldn't win the first prize of a beauty-contest, but it was enough to get back to his quarters unmolested.
Determined he reached for the package with the bandage, Carson had prepared and for the plaster. It wouldn't be such a big thing to do it on his own. He had managed to fix a puddle jumper, sticking in an active gate, within 38 minutes, what could be so hard about sticking a plaster to his shoulder and to his thigh?
He threw a last glance back over his shoulder then he hobbled off and away from the infirmary.
***
Continue with part two
Author: Nicke
"co-writing" and beta: inkscribe
Pairing: Rodney McKay/Carson Beckett
Rating: M
Wordcount: 3375 (this part)
Prompt: lover100 # 075 Scent
Disclaimer, coverart & stuff: chapter index
A/N: This is a translated and slightly modificated version of a German fanfiction I wrote last year. And inkscribe did so much more than a simple grammar/spelling beta when she had a look at this. She worked her magic and turned this into something beautiful.
***
The taste of love is sweet
When hearts like ours meet
I fell for you like a child
Oh, and the fire went wild
Johnny Cash, Ring of fire
***
Prologue
2002,
Cafeteria in the Cheyenne Mountain Complex, Earth
When Sam Carter realised that it had been his, Rodney McKay's, assessment, which left her so little time to save her team mate's life, she practically jumped out of her chair. "God! You're a jerk!"
Of course, McKay knew that she - young, good looking and brilliant - actually had been right. But he would have never admitted it out loud, he rather had bitten off his tongue. So he chose the most bromidic way to defend himself. "I wish I didn't find you so attractive. I always had a real weakness for dumb blondes."
She'd looked at him disdainfully and hissed: "Go, suck a lemon!" The she stormed off the cafeteria.
"Very sexy. Very, very sexy," he'd murmured after her and continued shovelling the food he'd lost the appetite for long ago with faked gusto into his mouth.
4 years later
Infirmary of the Atlantis station, Pegasus galaxy
He'd protested, put up resistance, but Sheppard had treated him as if he was a child and with Ronon's help dragged him off to the infirmary. Damn the man, Rodney McKay thought, the injuries on his naked arm and above the knee just were scratches, not very deep, though they hurt like hell. A simple plaster and some ointment would have done. What he now needed was to get out of his stinky and dirty clothes, a hot shower and a real meal. McKay's desire for medical care tended towards zero. It wasn't just about the taking care of the wound, more like about the care taker himself.
Since the "incident" three weeks ago he barely had spoken more than necessary with Beckett. He'd ignored the man, missed the meals they had been starting to have together and which almost had become a habit, and basically stayed out of his way. And if Colonel pighead Sheppard, who usually made fun of his whining, for once listened to him, he'd not be in such trouble.
To call the situation Cadman had thrown him in deadly embarrassing would have been an understatement. Not enough that the fitness freak in his brain made him grab Carson Beckett, his fellow, colleague, and Chief Medical, by the lapels and pull him in - for a kiss! No, it had to be done in front of everybody's eyes and in his own lab. Thank you very much!
McKay swallowed his anger and clenched his teeth, while Ronon and Sheppard manhandled him over to the infirmary bed, Beckett had pointed at.
"Ouch! Watch it, you...," he cried out, as they dropped him rather carelessly against the bed and made him hit his knee. "Isn't it enough you dumped me head over heels into this nasty slimy whatever it is?"
Ronon shrugged his shoulders and gave him a derogatory gaze. "I pushed you outta the line of fire."
Grimmly McKay looked down along his frame. What had made him step through the gate and onto that planet wearing a short sleeved shirt? He had no idea what covered his arms and the front of his uniform, and he surely didn't feel the need to actually analyse the slimy substance that above all burned like hell in his wounds. It weren't excrements, about that he was sure, probably the half-rotten remainders of some plants. He looked up and threw Dex a menacing glare. But before he was able to address the tall Satedan, Beckett waved off Sheppard and Ronon from the bed with a small gesture.
"You may discuss later who's to be blamed," he gently said and pulled on his latex gloves. "But now I'd like to look after my patient. What happened?" he asked and checked out the wounds on McKays right upper arm and above his left knee.
Disgusted Sheppard looked at the slime on his hands and wiped it into his pants.
"We were trying to escape the natives and he tumbled down a slope and when we ran through the forest towards the gate..."
"I was thrown rather roughly into a puddle of slime."
"We were under fire, Rodney. Or had you rather Dex not getting you out of the line of fire? You might have made it back through the gate with your legs first," Sheppard explained determinedly to the scientist. Then he turned to Beckett. "How bad is it?"
Beckett looked up and reached for a pair of scissors on the table. "He's been lucky, these are practically only scratches, from some sharp edged stones I guess by the look of it. Just a bit to the left and he could've hurt his collarbone. The protective vest caught he most." He turned to Rodney. "You'll spot a few black spots nonetheless tomorrow. Looks like this is some really nasty stuff, it may be burning in your wounds," he explained while he cut the cords that kept the vest together and gently shoved the front piece aside. "I'm going to cut away your uniform, please stay still for a moment, will you?"
McKay bit his tongue, holding back the nasty comment and stuck to the doctor's orders. Not to imagine what might happen if the Scot slipped and thrust the scissors into his already injured shoulder. As some sort of sweet revenge for the humiliation he'd suffered from three weeks ago. A light shiver shook his body as the cold metal scraped over his naked chest. Carefully he watched every movement of the physician.
"Rodney, please keep still!" Beckett asked gently, completely without reproach in his voice and for a moment looked at him. McKay swallowed and called himself a fool when there was nothing but concern in the doctor's eyes. He took a deep breath and rested his head back against the bed.
The material gave way to the scissors with a soft sound and he felt Beckett's gloved fingers carefully push the fabric aside.
"Um, we... You surely don't need us around, doc, do you?" Sheppard asked, wrinkling his nose.
Without looking up from his task, Beckett told them they weren't needed and that McKay was free to leave after the treatment. Sheppard reminded McKay of his report, said his goodbye and with Dex left the infirmary.
"This is going to hurt a bit," Beckett warned as he prepared to clean the wound.
"Tell me something new," Rodney said with a theatrical sigh that turned into a pained cry as Beckett touched the pad with the medicine onto Rodney's skin. "Are you mad?!"
"Please keep still, Rodney," Beckett asked again and pressed him back against the bed. "Relax and..."
"Maybe I don't want to relax, Carson," Rodney fumed, suddenly annoyed by Beckett's calm. How could this guy be so cool in every situation he was thrown in?
"I had a really, really bad day. I nearly was shot by some pegasus-galactic hillbillies, fell down a slope, skinned my shoulder and got injured above my knee and as if that wasn't bad enough I also got dumped into a pool of this really stinky slimy stuff I'm covered in from tip to toe that also burns like hell." He made a small pause and then sulkily added: "And above all I missed dinner."
"I am truly sorry for you, really. If you let me do my job, you'll be out of here within a matter of minutes." His hand rested on McKay's shoulder and Rodney could have sworn to have heard the "or else..." that threateningly hung in the air. He sceptically sized up Beckett who held his gaze. Why had he never before noticed that Carson's eyes sometimes rather looked grey than blue?, he suddenly found himself thinking. Confused, he tried to push away the thought and shook his head.
"Well," he finally said and took a deep breath. Resigning into his fate he closed his eyes and let Beckett do his work. A few times he was about to bring up the incident that had happened three weeks ago, but he didn't dare. Probably Carson was just as embarrassed as he was and it was better not to mention it ever again. Sleeping dogs, Rodney thought and tried thinking of something completely different while Beckett turned to tending the wound on his thigh.
"I have to cut off the trouser leg," Carson excused as he cut off the material of the uniform a few inches above the knee.
"Well, I seriously doubt someone will mourn the loss of a piece of uniform," McKay gave back and tried not to think about the fact that he was practically naked under Carson's critical eyes on the infirmary bed while the physician pushed the cut-off leg down his leg.
Why did these kind of things always happen to him, he wondered. Ever since he'd been working for the military on that damn programme some things in his life really had gone bad. He remembered the first time he saw a real Stargate in the Cheyenne Mountain Complex and still had Carter's acid order in his ears to go and suck a lemon. Unable to suppress a shudder he remembered the time he had been allowed to spend in Russia...
It had started all so well in Antarctica, he even became something like friends with a handful of people. Amongst them, Carson Beckett. But this damn incident now hung between them and he had no idea how to get out of it ever again. But maybe he was just being paranoid and over dramatising things? Because this horrible kiss obviously didn't seem to bother Carson at all. At least he didn't show anything. Oh my god, Rodney thought, he couldn't simply go and tell Carson: "look, I'm sorry about the kiss". Or could he?
But that exactly was the crucial point. Because if he was brutally honest with himself, he had to admit, that kiss didn't bother him as much as he'd been announcing loudly and repeatedly during the last three weeks. The circumstances which led up to it, were a different matter, though.
The whole humiliating drama.
Firstly being taken for mad because he'd been talking to Cadman who had taken up residence in his brain.
Waking up naked and with inexplicably aching muscles in a room that wasn't his.
The dinner with Katie and Carson which he, due to the hurriedly drowned white wine, only vaguely remembered.
And the crowning act: in front of everybody's eyes kissing Carson - fully on the mouth.
But maybe this wasn't exactly the right moment - feeling Carson's hand close to his crotch - to think about the kiss and how it made him feel.
Fortunately the iodine Carson used for disinfecting burned like fire, he thought as Carson resumed cleaning the wound.
"This really looks nasty," Carson softly said. "Does it hurt much?"
McKay suppressed a sigh. "Well, I remember much more pleasant experiences. And yes, this stuff really burns like hell. But against common belief I am actually able to restrain myself and need not constantly whine about little injuries."
"Yes, yes, Rodney, I know, you're the genius whose brilliant mind controls the weak matter." Beckett's hand with the swab stilled and he gave his patient a look Rodney was barely to read. Something in between reproachful and wearily and Rodney immediately went into defensive mode.
"Carson, that horrible thing with Cadman, the..." He didn't even dare saying the word "kiss" out loud.
"It's okay, Rodney, there's no need to mention it again."
"But I am... I'm sorry, Carson, I... look, you... I," helplessly he gestured with his hand. Carson didn't do anything to make it easier for him.
Carson's expression darkened for a moment, then he turned away and continued to clean the wound. "Rodney, I can imagine that this may be as embarrassing for you as it is for me. But there's no reason for you to apologise for something you're technically not even to be held liable..."
"You may have a point there, Carson. Technically speaking it may not have been my fault. But damn it, it were my hands on your lapels, my lips on yours and within an inch Cadman would have been playing hockey with my tongue and your tonsils," McKay barked angrily. Realising what he just said, he slapped his hand over his mouth. God, had he really just said what he thought he did say? Could there please appear some black hole and swallow him whole? Luckily the infirmary was almost deserted, only in the far corner a nurse was tending to a patient and two lab assistants were running around, obviously working on an experiment and not having eyes or ears for anything else he realised with a quick look around.
Carson stared at him for a few horrible seconds, open mouthed and McKay thought he was going to die from sheer embarrassment. To call Sam Carter a dumb blonde hadn't really been one of his brightest ideas but this one was really the icing to the cake.
Then Carson's features relaxed and the physician grinned at him. "Just relax, Rodney there's no need for staring at me this horrified." He winked and then added: "Well, it could have been worse."
Before McKay was able to ask for Beckett's explanation of "worse", one of the lab assistants called for the Scot.
"Coming," he shouted over his shoulder and turned towards McKay again. "To take the safe route I'm giving you a tetanus shot and put a spray plaster on the wound, so you can take a shower and get that nasty stuff off. I'll drop by later at your's and bandage it," Beckett said determinedly and reached for the syringe.
Thinking of Carson, tending to his injuries in his quarters was making Rodney a little nervous. He imagined himself lying on his bed, wet hair and wearing a terrycloth bathrobe while Carson sat on the edge of the bed, pushing the fabric aside, to take care of his wounds. Warm, skilful fingers, softly brushing over his skin and...
"That won't be necessary," McKay waved off the offer and tried to push away the thoughts. "Just give me a batch of plaster and some ointment and I'll do it myself."
"No arguments," Beckett raised the syringe. "And now it's your choice, Rodney. Shoulder, thigh or buttocks?"
"Excuse me?!"
"Tetanus vaccination is intramuscular, Rodney, you know the procedure, sideways in the buttocks, into the shoulder or thigh muscle." Beckett smiled at him. "Most of the patients prefer the backside, because the muscle's stronger there and the vaccine diffuses better. Well?"
"You know what I think, Carson?" McKay raised his index finger. "I think, deep down inside and behind that friendly smile you're a sadist who truly enjoys watching his patients suffer." Stubbornly he pushed his chin forward and sceptically eyed the doctor. "Isn't there another possibility?"
"You may as well risk getting tetanus, you hero. But this is going to hurt much more than this tiny - needle."
Releasing a deep, weary sigh, Rodney unbuttoned his trousers and rolled onto his side. Slowly and carefully avoiding to embarrass himself even more, he pushed down his trousers and his boxers a little. Carson seemed to immensely enjoy himself, watching Rodney in this humiliating pose. Injured, covered in this stinky slimy substance and with his trousers almost around his ankles.
Rodney felt Carson's warm, gloved hand brush across his skin as he pushed down the waistband some more and tried not to think of where else Carson could put his hand, of he wanted to... Damn, he needed to think of something else, he reprimanded himself. Russia, he thought. The horrible grub that gave him three indigestions within five months.
Beckett sanitised McKay's buttock cheek and gave him the injection while Rodney tried to think of snow storms and icy winds. He wouldn't let it happen that the Scot's hand on his arse caught him off guard! He wasn't that desperate! But when the physician pulled out the needle and with his palm massaged the muscle, he couldn't help releasing a soft moan.
"You alright?" Carson asked with concern without taking his hand from Rodney's back.
'Of course,' Rodney wanted to shout, 'I just think, you overestimated my brilliant mind sooner and now my ass and my dick conspire against me to teach me a lesson in humility.'
He hoped, his voice wouldn't leave him also. "No," he started and decided he sounded much too shrill. He cleared his throat and tried to make his voice sound deeper. "No," he repeated. "It's... it's alright. Really. It just... stung... a bit. Yes.." He felt the blood rushing to his cheeks. Bloody brilliant, he was riding for a fall! He of all people, the ever eloquent, brilliant speaker, who always and for everyone had the right comment and never was short of a reply.
"Oh, really?" Carson's voice sounded deep and seductive and his Scottish brogue seemed more distinctive than before and Rodney felt the blood rushing in his ears. He felt the warmth radiating from Carson's body and the smell clinging to his white lab coat slowly saturating his senses. He tried to focus on what exactly it was he smelled. A mixture of medicaments, disinfectants, shower gel, soap or cologne, sweat and something else he wasn't able to classify, but which distinctively reminded him of something.
The hand on his buttocks first slid down and then pulled up the trousers. Nudged him gently at the hip and tried to make him roll onto his back again. Stubbornly Rodney stared to the side and down to the floor, hoping the hand together with the doctor would simply disappear. But something told him, he might be hoping in vain. For a moment the hand rested on his hip, then the thumb gently brushed across the bone.
"I'm going to have a look at Chen's and Miller's experiment. Rodney," Carson softly explained and pulled back his hand.
McKay felt relief, thankfulness and regret at the same time as Carson moved away from the infirmary bed and went over to the other side of the room. With shaking hands he pulled up the zipper and as it wouldn't go further, he lifted his hips and pulled the trousers up and rolled on his back.
He really needed to have sex anytime soon, he decided and wondered if he should give it a try to ask Katie Brown out for dinner. But he discarded the plan immediately. Katie was a very attractive young woman, no question. But he simply couldn't miss the fact how distinctly his body reacted to Carson's touches. Maybe he could persuade Carson to...
He squeezed his eyes shut and banged his head repeatedly against the bed. Persuade Carson to do what exactly? Have sex with him on a trial basis? He had to be crazy, Rodney thought. More crazy, more desperate or he had more serious injuries from this mind-meld with Cadman than he had been aware of. 'Think of it as some scientific experiment, Carson. Even Freud thought that theoretically we're all bisexual.'
McKay took a deep breath and opened his eyes. He needed to get away from the infirmary, from Carson's presence. He needed new clothes, a huge portion of something edible and a cold shower. Maybe not in exactly this order, but he was willing to reconsider the priorities. He raised his head and made sure, Carson was still busy.
When he was sure, Carson had his back to him, he abruptly sat up and hung his legs down over the edge of the bed. The shirt hung in pieces from his chest and the cut-off leg of the trouser slid down to the floor. Okay, he wouldn't win the first prize of a beauty-contest, but it was enough to get back to his quarters unmolested.
Determined he reached for the package with the bandage, Carson had prepared and for the plaster. It wouldn't be such a big thing to do it on his own. He had managed to fix a puddle jumper, sticking in an active gate, within 38 minutes, what could be so hard about sticking a plaster to his shoulder and to his thigh?
He threw a last glance back over his shoulder then he hobbled off and away from the infirmary.
***
Continue with part two