SGA: "Incentives" (PG-13, John/Rodney)
Second in the kissing meme, for zoniduck and reginagiraffe, who asked for John/Rodney. It got wordy:
Incentives
Stargate: Atlantis. PG-13, John/Rodney. 1,082 words.
"Bribery will get you somewhere."
Beta by nestra.
Incentives
Rodney woke up flailing, his heartbeat pounding in his throat and his sleeping bag wrapped around him like he was the avocado filling in a California roll. The night air was clammy, clinging to his face and eyelashes like a sweaty T-shirt. M3D-656. Stuck in the middle of nowhere with a malfunctioning DHD. Sheppard was squatting near Rodney's head and nudging his shoulder with the life signs detector.
"Hey," Rodney said, frogs gumming up his throat.
"Hey," Sheppard said. "You were making a lot of noise."
"Oh," Rodney said. He squirmed in his sleeping bag trying to get free. "I had this dream -- well, no, nightmare -- that the Wraith came while I was fixing the DHD, and the jumper was on autopilot, and you couldn't stop it and come back for me, you know, like the wizard at the end of The Wizard of Oz?"
As Rodney spoke, Sheppard's expression went from concerned to his approximation of innocence, which always made him look a little bit goofy and incontinent.
"Rodney," Sheppard said, "is this your way of telling me that you're a friend of Dorothy?"
"Your puerile wit slays me," Rodney said, flailing around and managing to whack Sheppard's knee with the side of his hand. "Ow."
Rodney shook his stinging hand and glared at the closed jumper bay. Sheppard had suggested a coin toss, and Teyla and Ronon had won best of three and seven, and now they were both sleeping the sleep of the unearthly pretty warrior people inside the jumper. Rodney had been betrayed by statistics on all corners.
"Because if you were gay," Sheppard said, sounding horribly like a commercial for some social disease like genital herpes, "I just want you to know that I'd be fine with that."
Rodney peered at him suspiciously. "How long has it been since you've slept?"
Sheppard rolled his eyes. "Don't ask."
"I'll have you know that I could make a lowbrow joke about your armed forces right now, and am abstaining."
"Is that what you Canadians are calling it these days," Sheppard said, but his smarmy grin was ruined by a large yawn and the flash of white teeth.
"Why are you keeping watch anyway?" Rodney asked, hunching in his sleeping bag. "The entire planet's abandoned, and nothing's getting in or out of that gate until I fix the DHD."
"Then fix it, Rodney, so we can go home," Sheppard said.
"Oh my god, are you whining?" Rodney asked.
"I am not."
Rodney poked his finger at Sheppard over the top of his sleeping bag. "You're whining!"
Sheppard glared. "And you're gay. You don't see me complaining."
Rodney made a loud noise of disgust and inchwormed his way out of his sleeping bag. "I find your fixation on my sexuality a little disturbing."
"Well, it's not like I packed a book to read," Sheppard said. "And you're the one keeping us here. Consider this payback."
"You could've just asked me to entertain you," Rodney said.
Sheppard raised his eyebrows. "Right."
Rodney shuffled over to the DHD, sat down, and tucked the sleeping bag around his legs. "Okay, fine, whatever, bring your flashlight over here, Mr. Tolerance and Sensitivity."
Sheppard made a face like Rodney had just asked him to a performance of French interpretive dance, but joined Rodney anyway and turned on his Maglite. Rodney worked in companionable silence for a while.
"Wouldn't leave you behind," Sheppard muttered.
"Of course you wouldn't." Rodney grabbed Sheppard's wrist and repositioned the flashlight. "Hence my calling it a nightmare."
"And if you were gay..." Sheppard said.
Rodney stared at him, his fingers easing a crystal out of its casing. "Look, seriously, are you hitting on me?"
Sheppard looked scandalized. "What?"
"What else am I supposed to think?" Rodney demanded.
"If I was hitting on you, you'd know," Sheppard said.
Rodney sighed. "I have my doubts."
"Hey, I'm good at flirting," Sheppard insisted, gesturing with his Maglite.
"And I'm bad at it. What's your point?"
Sheppard shook his head and looked grim. "I didn't wanna have to do this."
"What? Wait, do what?" Rodney asked.
"This," Sheppard said, hooking his fingers under Rodney's tac vest and pulling him sideways, where he met unexpectedly with Sheppard's lips. Rodney's mouth was open, so Sheppard pushed his tongue inside and said a very aggressive hello. Sheppard's nose bumped against Rodney's cheek. His mouth was smooth and wet, and he licked at Rodney's tongue with the dirty kind of confidence that made Rodney ignore the fact that his laptop had slid off his knee and into the dewy grass.
Sheppard stopped kissing him and had the gall to look smug. "That's what I'd do if I was flirting with you."
Rodney wanted to say something, but his lips were still buzzing.
Sheppard squinted at him. "Wait, are you actually gay?"
"A little?" Rodney offered without thinking. "I mean, I like women, too!"
"Oh," Sheppard said. He looked around uneasily, as if anyone could be watching them from the barren nothingness on this planet.
"Oh no." Rodney felt an angry flush creep up his neck. He picked up his laptop and wiped the LCD with his sleeve. "Have your heterosexual freak-out somewhere else. I'm busy."
"Well," Sheppard said after a moment. "I don't think I can have a heterosexual freak-out. Uh, by definition."
Rodney dropped his laptop, and it connected hard with his knee. "Ow. What?"
Sheppard shrugged. "Do you want me to draw you a rainbow?"
"Oh my god," Rodney said. "You suck! And you were hitting on me!"
"Maybe a little," Sheppard said.
"You are such a --" Rodney said, and then his brain stalled when Sheppard kissed him again. Soft and slow this time, like how Sheppard pornographically savored his first cup of coffee in the morning whereas Rodney tended to bolt his and immediately ask for more.
"Rodney." Sheppard's hand was warm on Rodney's neck.
"Huh?"
"I'm not doing that again until you get us off this planet."
"I hate you," Rodney said. "I don't even know what's wrong with this stupid thing, let alone how long it's going to take me to fix it once I do."
Sheppard licked his lips and looked entirely too pleased with himself. "Better get cracking, then."
"I'll have you know that kissing you is not that much of an incentive," Rodney lied huffily.
Sheppard pursed his lips, tapped his fingers on his Maglite, and said, "Fine. Fix this thing, and I'll blow you."
"Deal," Rodney said.
the end.
Incentives
Stargate: Atlantis. PG-13, John/Rodney. 1,082 words.
"Bribery will get you somewhere."
Beta by nestra.
Incentives
Rodney woke up flailing, his heartbeat pounding in his throat and his sleeping bag wrapped around him like he was the avocado filling in a California roll. The night air was clammy, clinging to his face and eyelashes like a sweaty T-shirt. M3D-656. Stuck in the middle of nowhere with a malfunctioning DHD. Sheppard was squatting near Rodney's head and nudging his shoulder with the life signs detector.
"Hey," Rodney said, frogs gumming up his throat.
"Hey," Sheppard said. "You were making a lot of noise."
"Oh," Rodney said. He squirmed in his sleeping bag trying to get free. "I had this dream -- well, no, nightmare -- that the Wraith came while I was fixing the DHD, and the jumper was on autopilot, and you couldn't stop it and come back for me, you know, like the wizard at the end of The Wizard of Oz?"
As Rodney spoke, Sheppard's expression went from concerned to his approximation of innocence, which always made him look a little bit goofy and incontinent.
"Rodney," Sheppard said, "is this your way of telling me that you're a friend of Dorothy?"
"Your puerile wit slays me," Rodney said, flailing around and managing to whack Sheppard's knee with the side of his hand. "Ow."
Rodney shook his stinging hand and glared at the closed jumper bay. Sheppard had suggested a coin toss, and Teyla and Ronon had won best of three and seven, and now they were both sleeping the sleep of the unearthly pretty warrior people inside the jumper. Rodney had been betrayed by statistics on all corners.
"Because if you were gay," Sheppard said, sounding horribly like a commercial for some social disease like genital herpes, "I just want you to know that I'd be fine with that."
Rodney peered at him suspiciously. "How long has it been since you've slept?"
Sheppard rolled his eyes. "Don't ask."
"I'll have you know that I could make a lowbrow joke about your armed forces right now, and am abstaining."
"Is that what you Canadians are calling it these days," Sheppard said, but his smarmy grin was ruined by a large yawn and the flash of white teeth.
"Why are you keeping watch anyway?" Rodney asked, hunching in his sleeping bag. "The entire planet's abandoned, and nothing's getting in or out of that gate until I fix the DHD."
"Then fix it, Rodney, so we can go home," Sheppard said.
"Oh my god, are you whining?" Rodney asked.
"I am not."
Rodney poked his finger at Sheppard over the top of his sleeping bag. "You're whining!"
Sheppard glared. "And you're gay. You don't see me complaining."
Rodney made a loud noise of disgust and inchwormed his way out of his sleeping bag. "I find your fixation on my sexuality a little disturbing."
"Well, it's not like I packed a book to read," Sheppard said. "And you're the one keeping us here. Consider this payback."
"You could've just asked me to entertain you," Rodney said.
Sheppard raised his eyebrows. "Right."
Rodney shuffled over to the DHD, sat down, and tucked the sleeping bag around his legs. "Okay, fine, whatever, bring your flashlight over here, Mr. Tolerance and Sensitivity."
Sheppard made a face like Rodney had just asked him to a performance of French interpretive dance, but joined Rodney anyway and turned on his Maglite. Rodney worked in companionable silence for a while.
"Wouldn't leave you behind," Sheppard muttered.
"Of course you wouldn't." Rodney grabbed Sheppard's wrist and repositioned the flashlight. "Hence my calling it a nightmare."
"And if you were gay..." Sheppard said.
Rodney stared at him, his fingers easing a crystal out of its casing. "Look, seriously, are you hitting on me?"
Sheppard looked scandalized. "What?"
"What else am I supposed to think?" Rodney demanded.
"If I was hitting on you, you'd know," Sheppard said.
Rodney sighed. "I have my doubts."
"Hey, I'm good at flirting," Sheppard insisted, gesturing with his Maglite.
"And I'm bad at it. What's your point?"
Sheppard shook his head and looked grim. "I didn't wanna have to do this."
"What? Wait, do what?" Rodney asked.
"This," Sheppard said, hooking his fingers under Rodney's tac vest and pulling him sideways, where he met unexpectedly with Sheppard's lips. Rodney's mouth was open, so Sheppard pushed his tongue inside and said a very aggressive hello. Sheppard's nose bumped against Rodney's cheek. His mouth was smooth and wet, and he licked at Rodney's tongue with the dirty kind of confidence that made Rodney ignore the fact that his laptop had slid off his knee and into the dewy grass.
Sheppard stopped kissing him and had the gall to look smug. "That's what I'd do if I was flirting with you."
Rodney wanted to say something, but his lips were still buzzing.
Sheppard squinted at him. "Wait, are you actually gay?"
"A little?" Rodney offered without thinking. "I mean, I like women, too!"
"Oh," Sheppard said. He looked around uneasily, as if anyone could be watching them from the barren nothingness on this planet.
"Oh no." Rodney felt an angry flush creep up his neck. He picked up his laptop and wiped the LCD with his sleeve. "Have your heterosexual freak-out somewhere else. I'm busy."
"Well," Sheppard said after a moment. "I don't think I can have a heterosexual freak-out. Uh, by definition."
Rodney dropped his laptop, and it connected hard with his knee. "Ow. What?"
Sheppard shrugged. "Do you want me to draw you a rainbow?"
"Oh my god," Rodney said. "You suck! And you were hitting on me!"
"Maybe a little," Sheppard said.
"You are such a --" Rodney said, and then his brain stalled when Sheppard kissed him again. Soft and slow this time, like how Sheppard pornographically savored his first cup of coffee in the morning whereas Rodney tended to bolt his and immediately ask for more.
"Rodney." Sheppard's hand was warm on Rodney's neck.
"Huh?"
"I'm not doing that again until you get us off this planet."
"I hate you," Rodney said. "I don't even know what's wrong with this stupid thing, let alone how long it's going to take me to fix it once I do."
Sheppard licked his lips and looked entirely too pleased with himself. "Better get cracking, then."
"I'll have you know that kissing you is not that much of an incentive," Rodney lied huffily.
Sheppard pursed his lips, tapped his fingers on his Maglite, and said, "Fine. Fix this thing, and I'll blow you."
"Deal," Rodney said.
the end.