i think i just died.
Corsets. Partial nudity. Oh my god, when can I see this movie?
Really, I'm kind of embarrassingly excited about this now. OH RIDICULOUS CRUSH ON KATE HEWLETT. YOU MAKE MY LIFE INFINITELY BETTER.
***
Speaking of women I lust after, I am so psyched for this new Mary McCormack show. SO PSYCHED. I hated her so much in S5 and S6 of TWW, but she won me over in the end, for sure. And I am incredibly in favor of her running around in a tank top and waving a gun in the air.
***
Anyway. Hand holding or whatever.
***
He allows himself the fantasy on the basis that it will never be more than a fantasy. It was like the way he used to allow himself to dream about Sam when she was on Earth and he was on Atlantis. It was out of the question, thus perfectly acceptable fantasy material. But then...
It starts off small and innocuous. It takes Rodney almost an entire Atlantean week to notice the change but there it is, clear as day once he opens his eyes. John's... touching him more. A little pat on the arm, on the shoulder, a hand at the small of his back, leading him out of the room. Nothing he hadn't done before, really, but with a frequency that was new. If it's something that John is doing intentionally, his expressions and attitude give no indication of it. He's the same moronic, closet-dork that he always is, and Rodney would just push it aside except that it keeps happening. Sheppard touches his shoulder, adjusts his tac-vest, rubs his arm when he's laid up in the infirmary after being stunned on a mission.
He may be an idiot with interpersonal relationships, but he's not stupid enough to call Sheppard on this newfound desire to be tactilely affectionate. If he does, Sheppard might wise up and, you know, stop. Despite Rodney's best attempts to keep his fantasies at a distance, he's not going to turn this down. And he's not afraid to admit, at least to himself, that he's not going to turn down any chance to be at the attention of John Sheppard's hands.
He's not entirely surprised when shoulder pats turn into sitting too close on team movie night, and when that evolves into sitting too close in the mess and on missions and in meetings and sitting in the labs and just about everywhere else. He gets used to the feeling of Sheppard's shoulder against his, gets used to the heat and the comfort and the way that, after a few minutes of sitting, they start to breath in sync, their arms pressing closer as they breathe in, retreating just slightly as they breathe out. He likes it. He likes knowing that Sheppard is at his elbow whenever he needs him. He likes knowing that, if nothing else, Sheppard is his friend, his very best, even though Sheppard knows that he's defeatist and negative and rude.
He still wonders about the hand-holding. He'd have thought that all of this other contact, the touching and the smiles and the sitting too close, he'd have thought it would have put the thought of holding hands straight out of his mind. How could awkward, sweaty hand holding stand up to the intimate little touches he managed to get just by being his normal, genius self? He can't shake it, though. The mere idea is more intense than even the feeling of John's body pressed tight beside his own.
It would be intentional, holding John's hand. It wouldn't be something that could be brushed off as a mindless mistake. No one would be able to explain it away as something casual. It's not something Rodney would be able to make excuses for, something that John would be able to make excuses for if Rodney ever got the courage to confront him. It would be something of consequence.
It would be... he wants to use the word "cherished," but he's afraid that would push him straight past "queer" and into "woman."
Really, I'm kind of embarrassingly excited about this now. OH RIDICULOUS CRUSH ON KATE HEWLETT. YOU MAKE MY LIFE INFINITELY BETTER.
***
Speaking of women I lust after, I am so psyched for this new Mary McCormack show. SO PSYCHED. I hated her so much in S5 and S6 of TWW, but she won me over in the end, for sure. And I am incredibly in favor of her running around in a tank top and waving a gun in the air.
***
Anyway. Hand holding or whatever.
***
He allows himself the fantasy on the basis that it will never be more than a fantasy. It was like the way he used to allow himself to dream about Sam when she was on Earth and he was on Atlantis. It was out of the question, thus perfectly acceptable fantasy material. But then...
It starts off small and innocuous. It takes Rodney almost an entire Atlantean week to notice the change but there it is, clear as day once he opens his eyes. John's... touching him more. A little pat on the arm, on the shoulder, a hand at the small of his back, leading him out of the room. Nothing he hadn't done before, really, but with a frequency that was new. If it's something that John is doing intentionally, his expressions and attitude give no indication of it. He's the same moronic, closet-dork that he always is, and Rodney would just push it aside except that it keeps happening. Sheppard touches his shoulder, adjusts his tac-vest, rubs his arm when he's laid up in the infirmary after being stunned on a mission.
He may be an idiot with interpersonal relationships, but he's not stupid enough to call Sheppard on this newfound desire to be tactilely affectionate. If he does, Sheppard might wise up and, you know, stop. Despite Rodney's best attempts to keep his fantasies at a distance, he's not going to turn this down. And he's not afraid to admit, at least to himself, that he's not going to turn down any chance to be at the attention of John Sheppard's hands.
He's not entirely surprised when shoulder pats turn into sitting too close on team movie night, and when that evolves into sitting too close in the mess and on missions and in meetings and sitting in the labs and just about everywhere else. He gets used to the feeling of Sheppard's shoulder against his, gets used to the heat and the comfort and the way that, after a few minutes of sitting, they start to breath in sync, their arms pressing closer as they breathe in, retreating just slightly as they breathe out. He likes it. He likes knowing that Sheppard is at his elbow whenever he needs him. He likes knowing that, if nothing else, Sheppard is his friend, his very best, even though Sheppard knows that he's defeatist and negative and rude.
He still wonders about the hand-holding. He'd have thought that all of this other contact, the touching and the smiles and the sitting too close, he'd have thought it would have put the thought of holding hands straight out of his mind. How could awkward, sweaty hand holding stand up to the intimate little touches he managed to get just by being his normal, genius self? He can't shake it, though. The mere idea is more intense than even the feeling of John's body pressed tight beside his own.
It would be intentional, holding John's hand. It wouldn't be something that could be brushed off as a mindless mistake. No one would be able to explain it away as something casual. It's not something Rodney would be able to make excuses for, something that John would be able to make excuses for if Rodney ever got the courage to confront him. It would be something of consequence.
It would be... he wants to use the word "cherished," but he's afraid that would push him straight past "queer" and into "woman."