Darkness Challenge: Misled by Barkeep
Title: Misled
Author: Barkeep
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard (pre-slashy)
Rating: PG13
Spoilers: none
Summary: There's a disturbing lack of heroic reward sex in the Pegasus Galaxy.
AN: with love and thanks to my wonderful beta sweeneybird
“I was sorely misled.”
John flinched as Rodney’s voice echoed off the rocks of their small prison. Shifting a little, John tried to find a spot where there wasn’t a rock jabbing into something tender. After a moment he gave up and settled in, his knee brushing Rodney’s, their backs against what was left of the wall. He slouched a little more so that his head wasn’t touching the fallen ceiling and blew out a frustrated breath. Even though they were in complete darkness he was positive he could see McKay’s glare. He rolled his own eyes, futile in the gloom, he knew, but it still made him feel better. “Misled about?”
“The heroic death.” Rodney picked up, not missing a beat. “In the movies the hero always gets trapped in a cave with a beautiful woman after pushing her out of harm’s way.”
John elbowed him. “Are you calling me a woman?”
Ignoring him, Rodney continued, “Inevitably, possibly due to lack of oxygen and the threat of impending death, their sniping banter leads to sex. I think that for my heroic act of saving your life I should at least get sex before I die.”
John felt his mouth fall open in shock. “You’ve never…?”
Rodney elbowed him back. “Don’t be idiotic. Of course I’ve had sex. It’s just been a while. First I was in Antarctica and was too busy with the research on the Ancient weaponry, plus, you know, brrr. And since we’ve been here I’ve been too busy not getting myself killed.”
“Yeah, it doesn’t leave a lot of time for extracurriculars, does it?”
“I’m sure you manage.” Rodney managed to sound condescending and envious all at the same time.
“You’d be surprised.”
“I doubt it.”
John opened his mouth, a sarcastic reply at the ready, and then stopped himself. He’d be damned if he spent his last hours sniping over inconsequential crap with McKay. “Well, don’t get me wrong, Rodney, I appreciate your saving me from imminent death and, incidentally, relegating me to a slower, less-oxygenated death, but I’m afraid your last request might go un-granted.”
Rodney snorted but whether it was laughter or derision John couldn’t tell. A moment later though something skittered across his arm and he flinched until Rodney’s hand grasped his arm firmly, squeezed once, hard, then released. The hand didn’t go far though, it only slid down a little until Rodney’s thumb was tracing absent patterns on John’s forearm.
In the dark, his world was narrowed down to only the places on his body that were touching Rodney’s body. The rest of him was simply made up of places that wished they were touching Rodney’s body. Frustrated, he closed his eyes, not much point in keeping them open anyway, and took stock of the situation. They were buried under a ton of rubble, the air was getting very stale and probably wouldn’t last them another hour at best. He strained his ears, listening for sounds of digging, knowing that Teyla and Ford would be trying to get to them. Hearing nothing but silence he came to a decision. McKay was right; if they were going to suffocate to death they should at least get sex.
John would rather have worked up to it subtly but, since time was of the essence, subtle just wasn’t an option. “You’re right, there’s a lack of heroic reward sex in the Pegasus Galaxy. Looks like you’re out of luck.” He paused and then added in a rush, “Unless, there was something I could do for you.”
“Please, like that would happen.” Rodney replied.
John jerked his arm away from Rodney’s hand. “Jeez, you don’t have to be offensive about it. Just because you’re straight as an arrow-”
“Actually,” Rodney interrupted, “I meant ‘like that would happen’ as in ‘like you’d consider having sex with me even though we were dying’. It’s not like I didn’t know you were gay, Major. Although I admit that Chaya thing threw me a little.”
“You did not know.” John glared in Rodney’s direction. “How could you have known?”
Rodney snorted. “No straight man spends that much time on his hair. Plus, you stare at Ford’s ass when you think no one is watching.”
John cringed. “Has he noticed?”
“Ford? I doubt it, unless he’s suddenly sprouted eyes in the back of his head.”
John paused and mentally re-wound the conversation in his head. “Wait a minute. So, you would consider having sex with me? But you’re straight.”
“And on what observation did you base that ignorant assumption?”
Ha!, John thought, two can play at this game. “Your hair.”
Rodney shrugged. “You can’t fight genetics.”
“And your clothes.” John said smugly.
Rodney patted him condescendingly on the leg. “Major, I’m a scientist. Our idea of dressing up is one of those tuxedo tee shirts. Dominant as it is, even the gay fashion gene is subordinate to the scientist bad-dressing gene.”
“Oh.” John frowned. “So, explain to me why I wouldn’t consider having sex with you.”
“I've been wondering about that. But, you see, my earlier assumptions were based on the false belief that you had noticed the extremely obvious passes I had made at you. Clearly, I have to revise my theory on the matter.”
“Clearly.” John said reaching out in the dark to find Rodney. “Could you maybe do that while we were having sex?”
“Please. I can do that and work on proving the Riemann hypothesis and solve-“ mpfh.
After a moment John decided that he really didn’t care about Rodney’s lack of fashion sense. What really mattered was what the man could do with his tongue, and those talented, talented hands. They were just beginning to explore those options when a shower of pebbles heralded the arrival of the rescue team. Hastily zipping his pants, John was able to greet Ford’s relieved face with a very wide and mostly genuine smile.
“Sirs,” Ford said, “glad to see you’re both okay. We’ll have you out of there in a minute.”
“Great, thanks.” John answered as Ford disappeared again, presumably to grab some equipment.
John looked at Rodney, only to find himself as the object of the other man’s scrutiny. “What?”
“Nothing. Just wondering if you get bed-head.” Rodney eyed John’s hair critically, “And if you did, how could one tell?”
John glanced toward the hole where Ford’s head had been, made sure it was all clear, and then leaned over to capture Rodney’s lips for a brief but very thorough kiss. “I guess you’ll find out in the morning.”
Author: Barkeep
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard (pre-slashy)
Rating: PG13
Spoilers: none
Summary: There's a disturbing lack of heroic reward sex in the Pegasus Galaxy.
AN: with love and thanks to my wonderful beta sweeneybird
“I was sorely misled.”
John flinched as Rodney’s voice echoed off the rocks of their small prison. Shifting a little, John tried to find a spot where there wasn’t a rock jabbing into something tender. After a moment he gave up and settled in, his knee brushing Rodney’s, their backs against what was left of the wall. He slouched a little more so that his head wasn’t touching the fallen ceiling and blew out a frustrated breath. Even though they were in complete darkness he was positive he could see McKay’s glare. He rolled his own eyes, futile in the gloom, he knew, but it still made him feel better. “Misled about?”
“The heroic death.” Rodney picked up, not missing a beat. “In the movies the hero always gets trapped in a cave with a beautiful woman after pushing her out of harm’s way.”
John elbowed him. “Are you calling me a woman?”
Ignoring him, Rodney continued, “Inevitably, possibly due to lack of oxygen and the threat of impending death, their sniping banter leads to sex. I think that for my heroic act of saving your life I should at least get sex before I die.”
John felt his mouth fall open in shock. “You’ve never…?”
Rodney elbowed him back. “Don’t be idiotic. Of course I’ve had sex. It’s just been a while. First I was in Antarctica and was too busy with the research on the Ancient weaponry, plus, you know, brrr. And since we’ve been here I’ve been too busy not getting myself killed.”
“Yeah, it doesn’t leave a lot of time for extracurriculars, does it?”
“I’m sure you manage.” Rodney managed to sound condescending and envious all at the same time.
“You’d be surprised.”
“I doubt it.”
John opened his mouth, a sarcastic reply at the ready, and then stopped himself. He’d be damned if he spent his last hours sniping over inconsequential crap with McKay. “Well, don’t get me wrong, Rodney, I appreciate your saving me from imminent death and, incidentally, relegating me to a slower, less-oxygenated death, but I’m afraid your last request might go un-granted.”
Rodney snorted but whether it was laughter or derision John couldn’t tell. A moment later though something skittered across his arm and he flinched until Rodney’s hand grasped his arm firmly, squeezed once, hard, then released. The hand didn’t go far though, it only slid down a little until Rodney’s thumb was tracing absent patterns on John’s forearm.
In the dark, his world was narrowed down to only the places on his body that were touching Rodney’s body. The rest of him was simply made up of places that wished they were touching Rodney’s body. Frustrated, he closed his eyes, not much point in keeping them open anyway, and took stock of the situation. They were buried under a ton of rubble, the air was getting very stale and probably wouldn’t last them another hour at best. He strained his ears, listening for sounds of digging, knowing that Teyla and Ford would be trying to get to them. Hearing nothing but silence he came to a decision. McKay was right; if they were going to suffocate to death they should at least get sex.
John would rather have worked up to it subtly but, since time was of the essence, subtle just wasn’t an option. “You’re right, there’s a lack of heroic reward sex in the Pegasus Galaxy. Looks like you’re out of luck.” He paused and then added in a rush, “Unless, there was something I could do for you.”
“Please, like that would happen.” Rodney replied.
John jerked his arm away from Rodney’s hand. “Jeez, you don’t have to be offensive about it. Just because you’re straight as an arrow-”
“Actually,” Rodney interrupted, “I meant ‘like that would happen’ as in ‘like you’d consider having sex with me even though we were dying’. It’s not like I didn’t know you were gay, Major. Although I admit that Chaya thing threw me a little.”
“You did not know.” John glared in Rodney’s direction. “How could you have known?”
Rodney snorted. “No straight man spends that much time on his hair. Plus, you stare at Ford’s ass when you think no one is watching.”
John cringed. “Has he noticed?”
“Ford? I doubt it, unless he’s suddenly sprouted eyes in the back of his head.”
John paused and mentally re-wound the conversation in his head. “Wait a minute. So, you would consider having sex with me? But you’re straight.”
“And on what observation did you base that ignorant assumption?”
Ha!, John thought, two can play at this game. “Your hair.”
Rodney shrugged. “You can’t fight genetics.”
“And your clothes.” John said smugly.
Rodney patted him condescendingly on the leg. “Major, I’m a scientist. Our idea of dressing up is one of those tuxedo tee shirts. Dominant as it is, even the gay fashion gene is subordinate to the scientist bad-dressing gene.”
“Oh.” John frowned. “So, explain to me why I wouldn’t consider having sex with you.”
“I've been wondering about that. But, you see, my earlier assumptions were based on the false belief that you had noticed the extremely obvious passes I had made at you. Clearly, I have to revise my theory on the matter.”
“Clearly.” John said reaching out in the dark to find Rodney. “Could you maybe do that while we were having sex?”
“Please. I can do that and work on proving the Riemann hypothesis and solve-“ mpfh.
After a moment John decided that he really didn’t care about Rodney’s lack of fashion sense. What really mattered was what the man could do with his tongue, and those talented, talented hands. They were just beginning to explore those options when a shower of pebbles heralded the arrival of the rescue team. Hastily zipping his pants, John was able to greet Ford’s relieved face with a very wide and mostly genuine smile.
“Sirs,” Ford said, “glad to see you’re both okay. We’ll have you out of there in a minute.”
“Great, thanks.” John answered as Ford disappeared again, presumably to grab some equipment.
John looked at Rodney, only to find himself as the object of the other man’s scrutiny. “What?”
“Nothing. Just wondering if you get bed-head.” Rodney eyed John’s hair critically, “And if you did, how could one tell?”
John glanced toward the hole where Ford’s head had been, made sure it was all clear, and then leaned over to capture Rodney’s lips for a brief but very thorough kiss. “I guess you’ll find out in the morning.”