SGA Ficlet: Scatter Chart (EP!John/Rodney, PG)
Today marks the day of the birth of The Cep, which must be celebrated. Happy birthday, the_cephalopod!
Title: Scatter Chart
Author: Zinnith
Pairing: John/Rodney
Rating: PG
Wordcount: ~1400
Notes: Entangled Particles ficlet completely made of schmoop that's been brewing for a while. Who better to finish it for than my favourite Cep? Also unfortunately unbeta'd because I'm slow that way.
Summary: If going to the pool made John happy, fine, but Rodney wasn't going to risk his life to splash a little water around.
Scatter Chart
John took up swimming the summer after he hurt his knee. It was insanely hot, and Rodney would have preferred to stay inside with his windows closed, his curtains drawn shut, and his air conditioner turned up as high as it went. It was too hot to breathe. It was too hot to have sex. John, who wasn't really an indoors sort of person, suffered badly. Every day when he came home from work, he was drenched in sweat. Even his hair was limp, something that was a cause for concern in its own right.
It was Carla, John's physical therapist (and a complete nightmare of a woman, Rodney privately thought) who had suggested a visit to the pool. That was after the day when John's daily walk had left him completely drained and panting in a way that made Rodney fear a heatstroke. After that, John began spending almost every free minute at the public pool, and even though it vastly improved John's mood, it did nothing at all for Rodney's.
Rodney wasn't a big fan of swimming. He liked a hot tub just as much as the next openly gay guy, but swimming pools usually meant revealing clothes and screaming children, both of which Rodney abhored. Not to mention the cancer-inducing sunlight and the ice-cream and soda that never failed to attract wasps and the high concentration of chlorine that made his skin itch. If going to the pool made John happy, fine, but Rodney wasn't going to risk his life to splash a little water around.
Kids peed in pools.
He held out for three days of only seeing John for meals and sleep, determined not to complain out loud. Swimming kept John from melting away and that had to be a good thing, right? He preferred his boyfriend in solid form, even if that form had been too absent lately.
On the fourth day, he gave up. The air was quivering with heat, thick and unforgiving. John came home early from work only to get his swim trunks and give Rodney a quick peck on the cheek before he disappeared again. The moment the door slammed shut behind him, Rodney exploded.
"I have had enough!" he told Laura. "He couldn't have stayed for lunch at least? Is that too much to ask? Here, look at this." Rodney dug around in his pocket and found the note with the calculations he'd made the day before in an particularly John-less moment. "This past week he's spent exactly seven hours and thirty-six minutes in my company, does that seem adequate to you? Is he trying to tell me something here?"
Laura patiently waited for him to finish, leaning against the kitchen counter with her arms crossed over her chest. How she could look so tauntingly cool while the rest of the world was dissolving into little drops of sweat was a complete mystery.
"Do you remember that time I told you that you're a lot more pleasant to be around since you met John?" she asked when Rodney stopped to draw in a lungful of stuffy air.
"Yes?" Rodney was plenty of things since he'd met John. A lot more happy, a lot more content with life, not to mention so completely and stupidly in love that it actually worried him a little from time to time.
"I'm about to change my mind. Will you just stop moping and go down there already? A little sun won't kill you."
"Excuse me, have I mentioned cancer and also cancer?"
Laura sighed and started to rummage around in the cupboards, finding bread and fixings for sandwiches. "Rodney, you're the only person I know who makes his own sunscreen because they don't sell SPF 100. One afternoon at the pool will not give you cancer. Now go change while I make you lunch. Go!"
There was no arguing with Laura when she had made up her mind. Rodney went to put on some clothes and try to find his old sunhat. By the time he was decent, Laura had packed a bag with sandwiches, bottled water and a thermos of coffee.
"Don't even think about bringing your laptop," she said, handing him the bag. "I'm taking the rest of the day off. Have fun, or I'll kill you and hide your body where no one will ever find it."
"Yes, mom." Rodney snatched the bag out of her hands with maybe a tiny little bit more force than necessary.
The moment he stepped outside, the heat assaulted him from all sides. People in the street were drooping and worn, walking in slow, zombie-like lurches. Rodney wanted to go back inside to his dearly beloved AC. Instead he sighed and headed for the pool.
As expected, there were children everywhere. There were also a lot of harried parents and groups of teenagers being far too loud and wearing far too little. A couple of young men with sculpted, tanned muscles were playing frisbee nearby. Rodney was only too aware that his loose shirt didn't really do much to hide those extra pounds that refused to stop sticking to his waist. It didn't matter what anyone tried to tell him, public pools were torture.
But all that was forgotten as soon as Rodney spotted John climbing out of the pool. His skin was slick with water, tiny droplets clinging to the hair on his chest. Rodney took in the scars, both the white, hairless ones on his leg, and the newer, pink ones, around his knee. And then there were the old scars, the scars whose history Rodney didn't know, and probably didn't want to know. None of the scars changed the fact that John was beautiful, or the way his entire body was infused with the inner strength and spirit of a man who had faced more than his fair share of adversities and come out in the other end a little banged up, but still undoubtedly himself.
It wasn't until a small child bumped into him from behind and almost made him fall on his face that he realised that he was standing in the middle of the path, blocking the way. He stepped to the side and waved at John, watching how a wide smile spread over his boyfriend's face the moment he caught sight of Rodney. It made something small and warm twitch and jump a little in his belly.
"What are you doing here?" John asked, navigating around the people sunbathing on the grass. "I thought you said 'when hell freezes over'?"
"Well, you haven't been home much lately and I thought, well, Laura thought, that I should come down to see you... Oh god, I'm going to need eye-bleach to get rid of that sight, some people should not wear speedos."
But John wasn't looking at the extremely hairy man with the impressive beer gut Rodney was pointing at. Instead he was looking very closely at what appeared to be Rodney's nose.
"Hey," he said, a touch of wonder in his voice. "You have freckles."
Rodney scowled and pulled the hat a little further down. "I know. They're the reason I try to stay out of the sun. Well, that and malignant melanoma, but that's beside the point. I just have to stick my nose outside and they start popping up, and before I know it I'm covered in hideous spots."
John kept studying his face and Rodney felt himself begin to blush in a way that had nothing to do with the sun.
"What?" he muttered.
"I like them." John leaned forward, pressing his lips to Rodney's cheek. He continued over the bridge of his nose to the other cheek and then kissed his mouth, soft and slow and sweet, his lips sunwarm and tasting faintly of chlorine. Rodney's shirt was getting wet where John's skin was pressing against it and he didn't care at all.
"I, uh, I brought lunch?" he said when they had to break apart again. "Are you hungry? I'm hungry. Also, I'd really like to find some shade before we both die from heatstroke and, and, I'm babbling, aren't I?"
"Just a little," John smiled and took his hand.
Maybe public pools weren't so torturous after all. But still...
"I'm not getting into that germ-infested water."
-fin-
Title: Scatter Chart
Author: Zinnith
Pairing: John/Rodney
Rating: PG
Wordcount: ~1400
Notes: Entangled Particles ficlet completely made of schmoop that's been brewing for a while. Who better to finish it for than my favourite Cep? Also unfortunately unbeta'd because I'm slow that way.
Summary: If going to the pool made John happy, fine, but Rodney wasn't going to risk his life to splash a little water around.
Scatter Chart
John took up swimming the summer after he hurt his knee. It was insanely hot, and Rodney would have preferred to stay inside with his windows closed, his curtains drawn shut, and his air conditioner turned up as high as it went. It was too hot to breathe. It was too hot to have sex. John, who wasn't really an indoors sort of person, suffered badly. Every day when he came home from work, he was drenched in sweat. Even his hair was limp, something that was a cause for concern in its own right.
It was Carla, John's physical therapist (and a complete nightmare of a woman, Rodney privately thought) who had suggested a visit to the pool. That was after the day when John's daily walk had left him completely drained and panting in a way that made Rodney fear a heatstroke. After that, John began spending almost every free minute at the public pool, and even though it vastly improved John's mood, it did nothing at all for Rodney's.
Rodney wasn't a big fan of swimming. He liked a hot tub just as much as the next openly gay guy, but swimming pools usually meant revealing clothes and screaming children, both of which Rodney abhored. Not to mention the cancer-inducing sunlight and the ice-cream and soda that never failed to attract wasps and the high concentration of chlorine that made his skin itch. If going to the pool made John happy, fine, but Rodney wasn't going to risk his life to splash a little water around.
Kids peed in pools.
He held out for three days of only seeing John for meals and sleep, determined not to complain out loud. Swimming kept John from melting away and that had to be a good thing, right? He preferred his boyfriend in solid form, even if that form had been too absent lately.
On the fourth day, he gave up. The air was quivering with heat, thick and unforgiving. John came home early from work only to get his swim trunks and give Rodney a quick peck on the cheek before he disappeared again. The moment the door slammed shut behind him, Rodney exploded.
"I have had enough!" he told Laura. "He couldn't have stayed for lunch at least? Is that too much to ask? Here, look at this." Rodney dug around in his pocket and found the note with the calculations he'd made the day before in an particularly John-less moment. "This past week he's spent exactly seven hours and thirty-six minutes in my company, does that seem adequate to you? Is he trying to tell me something here?"
Laura patiently waited for him to finish, leaning against the kitchen counter with her arms crossed over her chest. How she could look so tauntingly cool while the rest of the world was dissolving into little drops of sweat was a complete mystery.
"Do you remember that time I told you that you're a lot more pleasant to be around since you met John?" she asked when Rodney stopped to draw in a lungful of stuffy air.
"Yes?" Rodney was plenty of things since he'd met John. A lot more happy, a lot more content with life, not to mention so completely and stupidly in love that it actually worried him a little from time to time.
"I'm about to change my mind. Will you just stop moping and go down there already? A little sun won't kill you."
"Excuse me, have I mentioned cancer and also cancer?"
Laura sighed and started to rummage around in the cupboards, finding bread and fixings for sandwiches. "Rodney, you're the only person I know who makes his own sunscreen because they don't sell SPF 100. One afternoon at the pool will not give you cancer. Now go change while I make you lunch. Go!"
There was no arguing with Laura when she had made up her mind. Rodney went to put on some clothes and try to find his old sunhat. By the time he was decent, Laura had packed a bag with sandwiches, bottled water and a thermos of coffee.
"Don't even think about bringing your laptop," she said, handing him the bag. "I'm taking the rest of the day off. Have fun, or I'll kill you and hide your body where no one will ever find it."
"Yes, mom." Rodney snatched the bag out of her hands with maybe a tiny little bit more force than necessary.
The moment he stepped outside, the heat assaulted him from all sides. People in the street were drooping and worn, walking in slow, zombie-like lurches. Rodney wanted to go back inside to his dearly beloved AC. Instead he sighed and headed for the pool.
As expected, there were children everywhere. There were also a lot of harried parents and groups of teenagers being far too loud and wearing far too little. A couple of young men with sculpted, tanned muscles were playing frisbee nearby. Rodney was only too aware that his loose shirt didn't really do much to hide those extra pounds that refused to stop sticking to his waist. It didn't matter what anyone tried to tell him, public pools were torture.
But all that was forgotten as soon as Rodney spotted John climbing out of the pool. His skin was slick with water, tiny droplets clinging to the hair on his chest. Rodney took in the scars, both the white, hairless ones on his leg, and the newer, pink ones, around his knee. And then there were the old scars, the scars whose history Rodney didn't know, and probably didn't want to know. None of the scars changed the fact that John was beautiful, or the way his entire body was infused with the inner strength and spirit of a man who had faced more than his fair share of adversities and come out in the other end a little banged up, but still undoubtedly himself.
It wasn't until a small child bumped into him from behind and almost made him fall on his face that he realised that he was standing in the middle of the path, blocking the way. He stepped to the side and waved at John, watching how a wide smile spread over his boyfriend's face the moment he caught sight of Rodney. It made something small and warm twitch and jump a little in his belly.
"What are you doing here?" John asked, navigating around the people sunbathing on the grass. "I thought you said 'when hell freezes over'?"
"Well, you haven't been home much lately and I thought, well, Laura thought, that I should come down to see you... Oh god, I'm going to need eye-bleach to get rid of that sight, some people should not wear speedos."
But John wasn't looking at the extremely hairy man with the impressive beer gut Rodney was pointing at. Instead he was looking very closely at what appeared to be Rodney's nose.
"Hey," he said, a touch of wonder in his voice. "You have freckles."
Rodney scowled and pulled the hat a little further down. "I know. They're the reason I try to stay out of the sun. Well, that and malignant melanoma, but that's beside the point. I just have to stick my nose outside and they start popping up, and before I know it I'm covered in hideous spots."
John kept studying his face and Rodney felt himself begin to blush in a way that had nothing to do with the sun.
"What?" he muttered.
"I like them." John leaned forward, pressing his lips to Rodney's cheek. He continued over the bridge of his nose to the other cheek and then kissed his mouth, soft and slow and sweet, his lips sunwarm and tasting faintly of chlorine. Rodney's shirt was getting wet where John's skin was pressing against it and he didn't care at all.
"I, uh, I brought lunch?" he said when they had to break apart again. "Are you hungry? I'm hungry. Also, I'd really like to find some shade before we both die from heatstroke and, and, I'm babbling, aren't I?"
"Just a little," John smiled and took his hand.
Maybe public pools weren't so torturous after all. But still...
"I'm not getting into that germ-infested water."
-fin-