Stargate: Atlantis, Sheppard/McKay, Stages of a relationship: Outcome
Title: Return
Author: Pollitt (mboyd)
Theme: Outcome/The Morning After
Rating: PG-13 (implied sexual situations)
Author's Notes: I decided to mix up the order of these stages, this being the final stage-the morning after/outcome. This is set after "The Return, Pt. I" and possibly part II.
The cramped twin bed, with its worn sheets and too-thin mattress, is more home than the feather-soft, king-sized (empty.) beds back on Earth ever were.
After two months as exiles and six weeks apart from one another, they didn’t even try to hide that this morning wouldn't find them anywhere but together.
Two black t-shirts rest tangled together at the foot of the bed--the arm of one poking through the neck of the other--while their owners are entangled beneath the sheets.
There’s a mess of dark hair teasing Rodney’s nose as he pulls himself from sleep, trailing his fingertips up over the ridges of John’s spine until he cracks his elbow against the bedside table.
John’s laughter tickles Rodney’s skin and they barely manage to hold onto the edge of the mattress before they go tumbling to the floor.
Rather, Rodney, with throbbing arm, manages to remain upright, but John capsizes and lands, bare-assed, on the cool Atlantis floor.
“You win,” Rodney concedes with a sigh, wrapping the sheet around his shoulders.
Sliding down to the floor in front of John, his knees bracketing John’s thighs, Rodney reaches forward, wrapping John in his arms, the sheet.
“I missed you.”
Author: Pollitt (mboyd)
Theme: Outcome/The Morning After
Rating: PG-13 (implied sexual situations)
Author's Notes: I decided to mix up the order of these stages, this being the final stage-the morning after/outcome. This is set after "The Return, Pt. I" and possibly part II.
The cramped twin bed, with its worn sheets and too-thin mattress, is more home than the feather-soft, king-sized (empty.) beds back on Earth ever were.
After two months as exiles and six weeks apart from one another, they didn’t even try to hide that this morning wouldn't find them anywhere but together.
Two black t-shirts rest tangled together at the foot of the bed--the arm of one poking through the neck of the other--while their owners are entangled beneath the sheets.
There’s a mess of dark hair teasing Rodney’s nose as he pulls himself from sleep, trailing his fingertips up over the ridges of John’s spine until he cracks his elbow against the bedside table.
John’s laughter tickles Rodney’s skin and they barely manage to hold onto the edge of the mattress before they go tumbling to the floor.
Rather, Rodney, with throbbing arm, manages to remain upright, but John capsizes and lands, bare-assed, on the cool Atlantis floor.
“You win,” Rodney concedes with a sigh, wrapping the sheet around his shoulders.
Sliding down to the floor in front of John, his knees bracketing John’s thighs, Rodney reaches forward, wrapping John in his arms, the sheet.
“I missed you.”