The Paradox of Vision (part 3)
Rating: NC-17
Fandom, Pairing: SGA, McKay/Sheppard
A/N: Thank you to those who have been waiting patiently for the conclusion of this story. Here it is! Thanks and extra porn for secrethappiness, buckle_berry, pippinmctaggart, and algernon_mouse for offers of help, talking me off ledges, and invaluable advice on making this better.
The Paradox of Vision, part 3
"Wake up."
John groaned into the pillow; rolled over and then back, wincing as his radio dug into his skull. "Whaaaaaat," he said.
"I fell asleep with the SED on," Rodney said. His voice sounded odd. "And the radio."
"Noticed that," John said. He pulled the blanket over his face. "My SED's… somewhere." He groped under the blankets; felt the hard angle of it where he'd pushed it away while he slept. "You want me to - do anything? Touch the sensor strip?"
"No, that's okay."
He could hear Rodney breathing into his ear.
John was kind of used to trying to figure out what to say, the morning after, but he'd never had to figure out how to say it to someone in a different bed, in a different room, somewhere down the hall. He was lying there not thinking about it - actually thinking about whether his pubic hair was permanently glued to his skin (answer: probably) - when Rodney finally spoke again.
"I can see something," Rodney said.
John lay perfectly still. "Have you called Carson?" he asked.
"I just woke up," Rodney said.
"Do you want me to call him?"
"I don't know." Rodney swallowed audibly. "I keep thinking I'm - it's not real."
"Yeah." John pulled the covers off his face and blinked at the ceiling.
"Can you -" Rodney stopped.
"Sure, gimme a minute," John said, already swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He heard Rodney's inhale, then the click of his radio as it switched over to passive.
John limped into the bathroom and cleaned up, trying hard not to think about anything but the (kind of messy) task at hand. He pulled on a pair of clean boxers and jeans, pulled a not-too-dirty t-shirt over his head, and, after a moment's hesitation, slid his half of the SED into the back pocket of his jeans, carefully not touching the leathery strip along the clip.
The hall was empty, early morning light just spilling through the windows. He didn't bother to knock on Rodney's door; just held his hand over the sensor until it opened for him.
"Hey." Rodney was sitting on his bed, fully dressed, looking right at John.
Looking right at him, and John almost took a step back from the impact of it. He hadn't realized, exactly, just what it would be like to have that gaze, the weight of those eyes, actually on him again - not searching for him, not aimed in his direction, but meeting his gaze. All the weight of Rodney - all that Rodneyness - focused again, perfectly, clearly visible.
"Hi," John said faintly, and waited as Rodney stood, as he walked unsteadily toward him, as he stepped through the open doorway and stopped and stared at John.
"I, uh," Rodney said. "You're a little blurry. I mean." He blinked, touched John's arm hesitantly. "Everything is a little blurry." His hand dropped and he looked away, down the narrowing vista of the corridor toward the high, arching windows at the end. "I guess we should go… to the infirmary?"
"Okay," John said, wondering if his breathing was as uneven as Rodney's, his face as flushed. "I'll call Beckett, tell him to get Dr. Yee and meet us there."
"That's a good idea." Rodney's eyes kept wandering away from John, down the corridor - he examined the light fixtures, the slant of sunlight from the high window, John's shoulders, his hair. "I'm a little." Rodney's hand hovered in air, drew his gaze. "I spent three minutes looking at my lamp," he said, snorting, meeting John's eyes again.
"Yeah," John said. He took a deep breath. "I bet."
"Sorry." Rodney started walking, slowly, head turning from side to side.
"It's okay. It must be weird." John stayed beside him, trying not to hurry him, although his pulse was jumping, heart thumping too fast in his chest.
"I think the SED jump-started it," Rodney said. He stopped again to look at the sensor pad outside Puckett's door, then at John. "Last night, you know." John nodded, swallowing. Rodney's lips quirked. "I thought that was supposed to make you go blind," he said.
It took John a second to get it, then his jaw dropped and he wheezed out a laugh. "Yeah," he said, "I mean - oh my god, don't tell Carson what we were doing."
"Ah, no," Rodney said dryly, still smiling. He looked away, down the hallway, eyes wide. "It's so bright," he said, voice wondering. His hand came up to touch John's arm, and John wondered if maybe Rodney was reassuring himself that they were both really there. "I forgot how bright everything is."
John took his elbow and began walking again. "Yeah," he said again, blinking quickly, leading Rodney toward the transporter. "It's going to be a nice day."
*
"Bloodflow from the calcarine branch has increased in conjunction with reported visual stimulus," Yee said, staccato.
"I'm seeing subnormal articulation in the V4 ventral stream," Beckett said, peering over her shoulder at the double-screened viewer.
"That's probably a function of underusage," Yee replied. "I'd expect it to improve given proper, continued input."
"Middle temporal receptors show dropping rates of throughput," Beckett said. "That correlates with the increased activity seen during use of the SED device."
"Exactly, considering that the subject's primary visual cortex is now picking up the lion's share of the burden," Yee said.
"Excuse me," Rodney said sharply, grabbing Beckett's arm. "The subject can see and hear and would appreciate it if the voodoo doctors could stop demonstrating their proficiency in glossolalia and actually address him."
Beckett straightened and turned, chagrin on his face. It looked weird - everything looked weird - but at least Rodney could tell it was chagrin. "I'm sorry, Rodney, this is just fascinating. Basically, we're only confirming what you already know - that your vision is back, but not fully functional yet."
"There's plenty of blood flow to the visual cortex, which is a definite improvement," Dr. Yee said. "All the receptor cells in your eyes - the cones and rods - are working just fine. There are just a few minor issues still to be solved."
"The blurriness is probably a result of your brain's readjusting to new input," Carson continued. "Your visual centers are re-learning how to interpret things in order of appearance, and as a result your depth perception and ability to determine which stimuli are more important are affected."
"Will I get better?" Rodney said. He blinked rapidly. "I mean, even if I don't, this isn't terrible - I can get along. But I won't be able to go on missions, and I could see problems with things like calibrating sensitive equipment - I'd have to rig up an all-new set of interfaces with my computer, which shouldn't be too hard, I've already -"
"Don't rush out and re-write all your software," Carson said, laying a hand on Rodney's arm. Rodney gazed down at it. Carson actually had quite hairy knuckles - he'd never noticed that before. "Dr. Yee and I both think that, given some time, your visual cortex will learn to distinguish between more and less important input. That should solve the slight blurring issues you're having, as well as bringing your depth perception back into play."
"So… what does that mean?" Rodney asked. He knew, but he had to know.
"It means we think -" Carson held up a warning finger - "that you'll make a full recovery."
Rodney looked past him at Dr. Yee, who nodded and even smiled - a little. "That's. Wow." Rodney looked back at Carson. "That's really good." Sheppard was leaning against the doorway, grinning, arms folded. "You'll have to teach me to shoot again," Rodney said.
"I can't wait," Sheppard said, rolling his eyes and straightening from his slouch.
"Not just yet," Yee said, and Carson frowned.
"What's going on?" Elizabeth said, appearing beside Sheppard. Like magic, Rodney thought, blinking at her. "Rodney?"
"I'm taking him to the firing range this afternoon," Sheppard said, straightening.
"What?" Elizabeth smiled, brilliant and wide and god, Rodney had missed seeing people smile. Then, of course, she was up close and hugging him and he patted her back awkwardly, still smiling. "You can see," she said into his ear, and leaned back, hands on his shoulders, beaming into his face.
"I can see," Rodney confirmed, grinning like an idiot.
"There'll be no trips to the firing range today," Carson said, breaking in. "Rodney should be on light duty - in the city - for at least a week. Today I want him off duty completely - and I'm tempted to forbid you from visiting the labs at all," he added, apparently undeterred by Rodney's death-glare.
"You can't forbid me the labs!" Rodney yelped. "I have minions to intimidate, systems to rewire, equations to erase! I've done my best to keep up, but now, now -"
"No," Beckett said. "Colonel, can you keep him out of trouble? You're off the duty roster today, if I recall correctly." He turned back to Rodney. "Aren't you as well?"
"But my lab! And the power-flow equations! The simulations…" Rodney waved his hands, and wow, that was interesting; he turned his head to watch the arc of one hand through the air. "Oh, fine," he pouted, suddenly aware that he'd stopped talking and was staring at his own hand, five inches from his face. He dropped it and scowled at Beckett and Yee. "But don't come running to me when your precious scanners flicker and die because my unsupervised idiots have overloaded the generators for half the city."
"We won't," Carson said, smiling patiently, at the same time as Sheppard said, "I'll keep him entertained, Carson," and sauntered closer, smirking.
"Thank you, Colonel," Carson said.
Rodney wondered if he could blame the morning's revelations - literally - on the way he was staring at Sheppard's mouth. Possibly the staring, probably not the blushing, he thought belatedly, and dropped his gaze to Sheppard's boots. "Well, come on, then," Rodney snapped, standing, waving at Yee and Elizabeth and Carson.
"Report back if there are any abrupt changes in your vision," Beckett called. "We'll radio you to come in for another scan later."
"You can start catching up on paperwork tomorrow," Elizabeth said with a smile, stepping aside to let him pass.
Rodney grunted. He stopped at the door and turned; Carson and Dr. Yee were already bent over the scans again, murmuring. "Hey." They both turned to look at him. "Thanks," Rodney said. "I mean, just - thank you."
They both smiled. "You're welcome," Carson said.
"I'm just disappointed I didn't get to give you a shot in the ass," Yee said, still grinning, and Rodney rolled his eyes and backed into the doorway.
*
"So, uh," John said. The infirmary door slid shut behind them. The corridors were busy now, bright morning light streaming over faces, people going to breakfast in the mess or their labs to work.
"Listen, not that I don't want to jump right in and embarrass myself by assuming things," Rodney said, "but I could really use some coffee that doesn't come from that biohazard of a maker in Carson's lair. You, uh, you wanna get some breakfast?"
Plenty of people came up to Rodney at breakfast and congratulated him on being able to see again. Elizabeth showed up for another hug. Teyla brought their foreheads together. Ronon squeezed his arm so hard Rodney whimpered. Zelenka beamed at him, and Rodney had never thought he'd be glad to look at Radek's messy hair and sincere face, but he was.
Sheppard sat beside him and ate, smiling.
"Good thing we came in," Rodney said to him during a break in the (pointless but weirdly gratifying) socializing. "Otherwise all these people might be calling me on the radio."
"May have to throw the radio out the window," Sheppard said blandly, and Rodney, who'd been trying really hard not to think about Sheppard's hands and mouth and the way his eyes crinkled up at the corners when he smiled so much, blushed. Again.
"Maybe," he said, though, and Sheppard threw him a look that had him coughing. "Uh, I think I'm mostly done," he said when he recovered. "Eating."
"Yeah," Sheppard agreed.
But two more scientists came up, and Rodney had to nod and smile at them (and wow, he'd forgotten that Ochoa's legs were that long, she might not be a runway model, but she had some fantastic legs, even in the boring khakis she was wearing) even as he got up, even as he tripped - Sheppard steadied him - and waited for them to just leave.
There were more people to look at - to belatedly smile at - as they walked through the halls; Sheppard was saying something about going over mission reports together, maybe watching a movie, when people asked what they were doing. "Doctor's orders, gotta keep him out of trouble," Sheppard said.
Rodney looked at their faces, looked at the high windows and the way the sun angled across the floors and walls. He looked at Sheppard beside him, then down at the way their feet looked, rising and falling on the polished floors. There were patterns everywhere, parabolas and vectors he calculated without thinking about it, beauty he'd - not forgotten, exactly, but looked at through filters, remembered too vaguely. He felt disconnected, like he was nothing but his eyes, staring and staring and staring.
*
Rodney kissed with his eyes open.
John closed his eyes and concentrated on the way Rodney's mouth tasted, on the feel of his lips, taste of his tongue, the small noises he made and the sounds of their kiss: soft and wet and so goddamned obscene that John's hands were shaking as he held Rodney's face.
"Can we - I want," Rodney said, and John pulled back just enough to breathe against Rodney's mouth, enough to open his eyes and see Rodney staring wild-eyed at him. "I just. What do you want?"
"Anything, Rodney." John smoothed a thumb over Rodney's neck. "I don't care. Everything."
"I want to see you," Rodney said. His hands skated over John's back, pulled him in so John felt the hard nudge of his erection, tight against his thigh. "I want - can I -"
"Yeah," John said.
*
Sheppard's lashes were dark and fragile over his cheeks. When he came the first time, Rodney wasn't sure where to look - at his own hand, wrapped around Sheppard's hard, spurting cock, or at Sheppard's exposed throat, head thrown back and mouth open on a noise that sounded like pain.
"God," Rodney said, leaning down to taste Sheppard's skin. He licked his way down the column of his neck (rough shadow of stubble, flutter of his quick-beating pulse, salty hollow between his collarbones) and grinned as Sheppard batted him away from one tiny brown nipple, nearly hidden in the whorls of wiry hair that decorated his chest. "You're no fun."
"Sensitive," Sheppard said, and when Rodney lifted his head, Sheppard was looking right into his face, eyes hazy and affectionate. "That was good."
"Yeah," Rodney said. He looked down again; forced his hand to loosen, watched as Sheppard's cock softened a little. "I liked that even better than last night."
"Me, too." Sheppard said. He lifted his head and looked around. "Need to clean up."
"Don't you have something better to do?" Rodney asked, rocking against Sheppard's side.
*
Every time John looked up, Rodney was watching him: glassy-eyed, pupils drowning the blue, mouth slack and red and soft, lips shaping barely audible words. John thought those words might break him, if only he could understand, hear, read lips.
John closed his eyes and sucked.
When Rodney came, he clutched at John's hair and he gave a strangled groan that might have been Sheppard, might not. John tightened his lips, dragged his tongue along the underside of Rodney's cock; swallowed and swallowed and drew slowly back, sucking Rodney clean, releasing him with a wet lick.
He looked up the bed. Rodney's eyes were closed; they opened an instant later, though, and Rodney was dragging him up for another wide-eyed kiss.
*
"This is good," Rodney said.
He was lying propped up in the bed, jammed shoulder and thigh against Sheppard. The blankets were pulled up to their bellies, laptop humming warm on Rodney's thighs. Sheppard watched over his shoulder as Rodney clicked through two months' worth of science team reports. The whole task would be going faster, except Rodney kept getting distracted by… things. Things like the glare on the screen, the blue of the sky outside, the way the light created ripples of shadow where the covers had bunched.
Things like Sheppard.
"Yeah." Sheppard yawned and lounged against him. It was getting a little sweaty just where they were pressed together, but Rodney didn't want to move away. And besides, the bed was narrow. "Not how I pictured it."
"Oh, thank you very much," Rodney said. "Are you complaining? I told you I'd go down on you in a little while."
"Jesus Christ," Sheppard said, rolling his eyes. "No. I meant, I didn't picture us… getting together. Like this."
Rodney closed the laptop and set it aside, then turned back to Sheppard. "You didn't imagine me losing my sight to a bizarre poison cooked up by crazed Wraith worshippers, followed by our discovery of a cool and potentially kinky Ancient gadget that allows me to see through your eyes, followed by a miracle cure cooked up by Carson and Dr. Yee, followed by its failure, followed by its success when kick-started by same cool and definitely kinky Ancient gadget?"
Sheppard was snickering at him. "No. I didn't picture that."
"I'm shocked," Rodney said. He put his hands on Sheppard; moved him around, watching the way his fingertips whitened on Sheppard's shoulders, the slide of muscle under skin as Rodney pushed and pulled him until he was flat on the bed, grinning up at Rodney leaning over him. "Sounds like just another week to me."
"Eight weeks," Sheppard said, smile fading.
"Eight weeks," Rodney agreed. "How did you picture it?"
"I don't know." Sheppard's eyes flicked left; stayed there. "Adrenaline, probably. I guess I always imagined something like, after a mission, or, you know - I mean. Uh." He darted a glance at Rodney and then away again. "Not that I fantasized about it or anything." The grin was back.
"Yeah, me, too," Rodney said. He drew his hand down Sheppard's chest. The hair felt rough against his fingers, pulled straight and then springing back to place when released. "What're we going to -" He stopped, hand flat on Sheppard's belly, the blankets draped just beneath his hand. "I suck at this," he said, and Sheppard met his gaze. "I've, ah," Rodney went on, forcing the words out, staring at the flecks of brown in Sheppard's green, green eyes, "I want this. Us. I'll do whatever - whatever you want. I know I'm bad at, at hiding things, but this is worth it - and you know, you’ve seen me keep secrets when it counts. This counts." Rodney's voice cracked, and he winced, but he didn't look away. "I mean it. This counts."
Sheppard looked away and licked his lips. "Yeah. Okay. This will work." He looked back at Rodney. "It counts for, uh. You know." He rolled one shoulder up; his stomach tightened under Rodney's palm. "Me, too."
"So what do we do?" Rodney said. He slid his hand down, down, under the covers; found Sheppard hard under the cotton. "I mean, other than this."
"As often as possible," Sheppard said. "I dunno." He closed his eyes and stretched his arms over his head - long and lean and gorgeous, and Rodney caught his breath, staring - then relaxed and blinked lazily up at Rodney. "We'll be okay."
"Assuming I survive the sex," Rodney said. He ducked his head, pressing his forehead against Sheppard's prickly temple. "I'll probably want to sleep with the lights on for a while."
"Yeah." Sheppard's fingers trailed through his hair; cupped his skull. "I feel a little useless."
"Got used to being led around on a leash?" Rodney said. "You remember those collars that time?" He felt dreamy, sleepy. "Those were hot."
Sheppard slapped the back of his head.
"Oh, what?" Rodney lifted his head, looked at Sheppard some more. "Hey, just because your days as my seeing eye dog are over doesn't mean you're useless."
"You're right." Sheppard's lips quirked up at one corner. "I still have that whole military leader of Earth's most distant outpost thing going for me." He shrugged one shoulder. "I just got used to helping you out."
"Well, it's been a long time since I had a regular source of orgasms," Rodney pointed out. "I think you could be a lot of help in that department."
Sheppard's smirk deepened. "Orgasms are a two-way street, McKay," he said.
Rodney rolled his eyes, pleased when he didn't simultaneously list to one side. "Oh, for Chrissakes," he said. "I'll blow you right now if it'll shut you up."
Sheppard pulled him down for another kiss. "Probably," he said into Rodney's mouth. "Guess you'll just have to try it and see."
~*~
THE END
Fandom, Pairing: SGA, McKay/Sheppard
A/N: Thank you to those who have been waiting patiently for the conclusion of this story. Here it is! Thanks and extra porn for secrethappiness, buckle_berry, pippinmctaggart, and algernon_mouse for offers of help, talking me off ledges, and invaluable advice on making this better.
The Paradox of Vision, part 3
"Wake up."
John groaned into the pillow; rolled over and then back, wincing as his radio dug into his skull. "Whaaaaaat," he said.
"I fell asleep with the SED on," Rodney said. His voice sounded odd. "And the radio."
"Noticed that," John said. He pulled the blanket over his face. "My SED's… somewhere." He groped under the blankets; felt the hard angle of it where he'd pushed it away while he slept. "You want me to - do anything? Touch the sensor strip?"
"No, that's okay."
He could hear Rodney breathing into his ear.
John was kind of used to trying to figure out what to say, the morning after, but he'd never had to figure out how to say it to someone in a different bed, in a different room, somewhere down the hall. He was lying there not thinking about it - actually thinking about whether his pubic hair was permanently glued to his skin (answer: probably) - when Rodney finally spoke again.
"I can see something," Rodney said.
John lay perfectly still. "Have you called Carson?" he asked.
"I just woke up," Rodney said.
"Do you want me to call him?"
"I don't know." Rodney swallowed audibly. "I keep thinking I'm - it's not real."
"Yeah." John pulled the covers off his face and blinked at the ceiling.
"Can you -" Rodney stopped.
"Sure, gimme a minute," John said, already swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He heard Rodney's inhale, then the click of his radio as it switched over to passive.
John limped into the bathroom and cleaned up, trying hard not to think about anything but the (kind of messy) task at hand. He pulled on a pair of clean boxers and jeans, pulled a not-too-dirty t-shirt over his head, and, after a moment's hesitation, slid his half of the SED into the back pocket of his jeans, carefully not touching the leathery strip along the clip.
The hall was empty, early morning light just spilling through the windows. He didn't bother to knock on Rodney's door; just held his hand over the sensor until it opened for him.
"Hey." Rodney was sitting on his bed, fully dressed, looking right at John.
Looking right at him, and John almost took a step back from the impact of it. He hadn't realized, exactly, just what it would be like to have that gaze, the weight of those eyes, actually on him again - not searching for him, not aimed in his direction, but meeting his gaze. All the weight of Rodney - all that Rodneyness - focused again, perfectly, clearly visible.
"Hi," John said faintly, and waited as Rodney stood, as he walked unsteadily toward him, as he stepped through the open doorway and stopped and stared at John.
"I, uh," Rodney said. "You're a little blurry. I mean." He blinked, touched John's arm hesitantly. "Everything is a little blurry." His hand dropped and he looked away, down the narrowing vista of the corridor toward the high, arching windows at the end. "I guess we should go… to the infirmary?"
"Okay," John said, wondering if his breathing was as uneven as Rodney's, his face as flushed. "I'll call Beckett, tell him to get Dr. Yee and meet us there."
"That's a good idea." Rodney's eyes kept wandering away from John, down the corridor - he examined the light fixtures, the slant of sunlight from the high window, John's shoulders, his hair. "I'm a little." Rodney's hand hovered in air, drew his gaze. "I spent three minutes looking at my lamp," he said, snorting, meeting John's eyes again.
"Yeah," John said. He took a deep breath. "I bet."
"Sorry." Rodney started walking, slowly, head turning from side to side.
"It's okay. It must be weird." John stayed beside him, trying not to hurry him, although his pulse was jumping, heart thumping too fast in his chest.
"I think the SED jump-started it," Rodney said. He stopped again to look at the sensor pad outside Puckett's door, then at John. "Last night, you know." John nodded, swallowing. Rodney's lips quirked. "I thought that was supposed to make you go blind," he said.
It took John a second to get it, then his jaw dropped and he wheezed out a laugh. "Yeah," he said, "I mean - oh my god, don't tell Carson what we were doing."
"Ah, no," Rodney said dryly, still smiling. He looked away, down the hallway, eyes wide. "It's so bright," he said, voice wondering. His hand came up to touch John's arm, and John wondered if maybe Rodney was reassuring himself that they were both really there. "I forgot how bright everything is."
John took his elbow and began walking again. "Yeah," he said again, blinking quickly, leading Rodney toward the transporter. "It's going to be a nice day."
*
"Bloodflow from the calcarine branch has increased in conjunction with reported visual stimulus," Yee said, staccato.
"I'm seeing subnormal articulation in the V4 ventral stream," Beckett said, peering over her shoulder at the double-screened viewer.
"That's probably a function of underusage," Yee replied. "I'd expect it to improve given proper, continued input."
"Middle temporal receptors show dropping rates of throughput," Beckett said. "That correlates with the increased activity seen during use of the SED device."
"Exactly, considering that the subject's primary visual cortex is now picking up the lion's share of the burden," Yee said.
"Excuse me," Rodney said sharply, grabbing Beckett's arm. "The subject can see and hear and would appreciate it if the voodoo doctors could stop demonstrating their proficiency in glossolalia and actually address him."
Beckett straightened and turned, chagrin on his face. It looked weird - everything looked weird - but at least Rodney could tell it was chagrin. "I'm sorry, Rodney, this is just fascinating. Basically, we're only confirming what you already know - that your vision is back, but not fully functional yet."
"There's plenty of blood flow to the visual cortex, which is a definite improvement," Dr. Yee said. "All the receptor cells in your eyes - the cones and rods - are working just fine. There are just a few minor issues still to be solved."
"The blurriness is probably a result of your brain's readjusting to new input," Carson continued. "Your visual centers are re-learning how to interpret things in order of appearance, and as a result your depth perception and ability to determine which stimuli are more important are affected."
"Will I get better?" Rodney said. He blinked rapidly. "I mean, even if I don't, this isn't terrible - I can get along. But I won't be able to go on missions, and I could see problems with things like calibrating sensitive equipment - I'd have to rig up an all-new set of interfaces with my computer, which shouldn't be too hard, I've already -"
"Don't rush out and re-write all your software," Carson said, laying a hand on Rodney's arm. Rodney gazed down at it. Carson actually had quite hairy knuckles - he'd never noticed that before. "Dr. Yee and I both think that, given some time, your visual cortex will learn to distinguish between more and less important input. That should solve the slight blurring issues you're having, as well as bringing your depth perception back into play."
"So… what does that mean?" Rodney asked. He knew, but he had to know.
"It means we think -" Carson held up a warning finger - "that you'll make a full recovery."
Rodney looked past him at Dr. Yee, who nodded and even smiled - a little. "That's. Wow." Rodney looked back at Carson. "That's really good." Sheppard was leaning against the doorway, grinning, arms folded. "You'll have to teach me to shoot again," Rodney said.
"I can't wait," Sheppard said, rolling his eyes and straightening from his slouch.
"Not just yet," Yee said, and Carson frowned.
"What's going on?" Elizabeth said, appearing beside Sheppard. Like magic, Rodney thought, blinking at her. "Rodney?"
"I'm taking him to the firing range this afternoon," Sheppard said, straightening.
"What?" Elizabeth smiled, brilliant and wide and god, Rodney had missed seeing people smile. Then, of course, she was up close and hugging him and he patted her back awkwardly, still smiling. "You can see," she said into his ear, and leaned back, hands on his shoulders, beaming into his face.
"I can see," Rodney confirmed, grinning like an idiot.
"There'll be no trips to the firing range today," Carson said, breaking in. "Rodney should be on light duty - in the city - for at least a week. Today I want him off duty completely - and I'm tempted to forbid you from visiting the labs at all," he added, apparently undeterred by Rodney's death-glare.
"You can't forbid me the labs!" Rodney yelped. "I have minions to intimidate, systems to rewire, equations to erase! I've done my best to keep up, but now, now -"
"No," Beckett said. "Colonel, can you keep him out of trouble? You're off the duty roster today, if I recall correctly." He turned back to Rodney. "Aren't you as well?"
"But my lab! And the power-flow equations! The simulations…" Rodney waved his hands, and wow, that was interesting; he turned his head to watch the arc of one hand through the air. "Oh, fine," he pouted, suddenly aware that he'd stopped talking and was staring at his own hand, five inches from his face. He dropped it and scowled at Beckett and Yee. "But don't come running to me when your precious scanners flicker and die because my unsupervised idiots have overloaded the generators for half the city."
"We won't," Carson said, smiling patiently, at the same time as Sheppard said, "I'll keep him entertained, Carson," and sauntered closer, smirking.
"Thank you, Colonel," Carson said.
Rodney wondered if he could blame the morning's revelations - literally - on the way he was staring at Sheppard's mouth. Possibly the staring, probably not the blushing, he thought belatedly, and dropped his gaze to Sheppard's boots. "Well, come on, then," Rodney snapped, standing, waving at Yee and Elizabeth and Carson.
"Report back if there are any abrupt changes in your vision," Beckett called. "We'll radio you to come in for another scan later."
"You can start catching up on paperwork tomorrow," Elizabeth said with a smile, stepping aside to let him pass.
Rodney grunted. He stopped at the door and turned; Carson and Dr. Yee were already bent over the scans again, murmuring. "Hey." They both turned to look at him. "Thanks," Rodney said. "I mean, just - thank you."
They both smiled. "You're welcome," Carson said.
"I'm just disappointed I didn't get to give you a shot in the ass," Yee said, still grinning, and Rodney rolled his eyes and backed into the doorway.
*
"So, uh," John said. The infirmary door slid shut behind them. The corridors were busy now, bright morning light streaming over faces, people going to breakfast in the mess or their labs to work.
"Listen, not that I don't want to jump right in and embarrass myself by assuming things," Rodney said, "but I could really use some coffee that doesn't come from that biohazard of a maker in Carson's lair. You, uh, you wanna get some breakfast?"
Plenty of people came up to Rodney at breakfast and congratulated him on being able to see again. Elizabeth showed up for another hug. Teyla brought their foreheads together. Ronon squeezed his arm so hard Rodney whimpered. Zelenka beamed at him, and Rodney had never thought he'd be glad to look at Radek's messy hair and sincere face, but he was.
Sheppard sat beside him and ate, smiling.
"Good thing we came in," Rodney said to him during a break in the (pointless but weirdly gratifying) socializing. "Otherwise all these people might be calling me on the radio."
"May have to throw the radio out the window," Sheppard said blandly, and Rodney, who'd been trying really hard not to think about Sheppard's hands and mouth and the way his eyes crinkled up at the corners when he smiled so much, blushed. Again.
"Maybe," he said, though, and Sheppard threw him a look that had him coughing. "Uh, I think I'm mostly done," he said when he recovered. "Eating."
"Yeah," Sheppard agreed.
But two more scientists came up, and Rodney had to nod and smile at them (and wow, he'd forgotten that Ochoa's legs were that long, she might not be a runway model, but she had some fantastic legs, even in the boring khakis she was wearing) even as he got up, even as he tripped - Sheppard steadied him - and waited for them to just leave.
There were more people to look at - to belatedly smile at - as they walked through the halls; Sheppard was saying something about going over mission reports together, maybe watching a movie, when people asked what they were doing. "Doctor's orders, gotta keep him out of trouble," Sheppard said.
Rodney looked at their faces, looked at the high windows and the way the sun angled across the floors and walls. He looked at Sheppard beside him, then down at the way their feet looked, rising and falling on the polished floors. There were patterns everywhere, parabolas and vectors he calculated without thinking about it, beauty he'd - not forgotten, exactly, but looked at through filters, remembered too vaguely. He felt disconnected, like he was nothing but his eyes, staring and staring and staring.
*
Rodney kissed with his eyes open.
John closed his eyes and concentrated on the way Rodney's mouth tasted, on the feel of his lips, taste of his tongue, the small noises he made and the sounds of their kiss: soft and wet and so goddamned obscene that John's hands were shaking as he held Rodney's face.
"Can we - I want," Rodney said, and John pulled back just enough to breathe against Rodney's mouth, enough to open his eyes and see Rodney staring wild-eyed at him. "I just. What do you want?"
"Anything, Rodney." John smoothed a thumb over Rodney's neck. "I don't care. Everything."
"I want to see you," Rodney said. His hands skated over John's back, pulled him in so John felt the hard nudge of his erection, tight against his thigh. "I want - can I -"
"Yeah," John said.
*
Sheppard's lashes were dark and fragile over his cheeks. When he came the first time, Rodney wasn't sure where to look - at his own hand, wrapped around Sheppard's hard, spurting cock, or at Sheppard's exposed throat, head thrown back and mouth open on a noise that sounded like pain.
"God," Rodney said, leaning down to taste Sheppard's skin. He licked his way down the column of his neck (rough shadow of stubble, flutter of his quick-beating pulse, salty hollow between his collarbones) and grinned as Sheppard batted him away from one tiny brown nipple, nearly hidden in the whorls of wiry hair that decorated his chest. "You're no fun."
"Sensitive," Sheppard said, and when Rodney lifted his head, Sheppard was looking right into his face, eyes hazy and affectionate. "That was good."
"Yeah," Rodney said. He looked down again; forced his hand to loosen, watched as Sheppard's cock softened a little. "I liked that even better than last night."
"Me, too." Sheppard said. He lifted his head and looked around. "Need to clean up."
"Don't you have something better to do?" Rodney asked, rocking against Sheppard's side.
*
Every time John looked up, Rodney was watching him: glassy-eyed, pupils drowning the blue, mouth slack and red and soft, lips shaping barely audible words. John thought those words might break him, if only he could understand, hear, read lips.
John closed his eyes and sucked.
When Rodney came, he clutched at John's hair and he gave a strangled groan that might have been Sheppard, might not. John tightened his lips, dragged his tongue along the underside of Rodney's cock; swallowed and swallowed and drew slowly back, sucking Rodney clean, releasing him with a wet lick.
He looked up the bed. Rodney's eyes were closed; they opened an instant later, though, and Rodney was dragging him up for another wide-eyed kiss.
*
"This is good," Rodney said.
He was lying propped up in the bed, jammed shoulder and thigh against Sheppard. The blankets were pulled up to their bellies, laptop humming warm on Rodney's thighs. Sheppard watched over his shoulder as Rodney clicked through two months' worth of science team reports. The whole task would be going faster, except Rodney kept getting distracted by… things. Things like the glare on the screen, the blue of the sky outside, the way the light created ripples of shadow where the covers had bunched.
Things like Sheppard.
"Yeah." Sheppard yawned and lounged against him. It was getting a little sweaty just where they were pressed together, but Rodney didn't want to move away. And besides, the bed was narrow. "Not how I pictured it."
"Oh, thank you very much," Rodney said. "Are you complaining? I told you I'd go down on you in a little while."
"Jesus Christ," Sheppard said, rolling his eyes. "No. I meant, I didn't picture us… getting together. Like this."
Rodney closed the laptop and set it aside, then turned back to Sheppard. "You didn't imagine me losing my sight to a bizarre poison cooked up by crazed Wraith worshippers, followed by our discovery of a cool and potentially kinky Ancient gadget that allows me to see through your eyes, followed by a miracle cure cooked up by Carson and Dr. Yee, followed by its failure, followed by its success when kick-started by same cool and definitely kinky Ancient gadget?"
Sheppard was snickering at him. "No. I didn't picture that."
"I'm shocked," Rodney said. He put his hands on Sheppard; moved him around, watching the way his fingertips whitened on Sheppard's shoulders, the slide of muscle under skin as Rodney pushed and pulled him until he was flat on the bed, grinning up at Rodney leaning over him. "Sounds like just another week to me."
"Eight weeks," Sheppard said, smile fading.
"Eight weeks," Rodney agreed. "How did you picture it?"
"I don't know." Sheppard's eyes flicked left; stayed there. "Adrenaline, probably. I guess I always imagined something like, after a mission, or, you know - I mean. Uh." He darted a glance at Rodney and then away again. "Not that I fantasized about it or anything." The grin was back.
"Yeah, me, too," Rodney said. He drew his hand down Sheppard's chest. The hair felt rough against his fingers, pulled straight and then springing back to place when released. "What're we going to -" He stopped, hand flat on Sheppard's belly, the blankets draped just beneath his hand. "I suck at this," he said, and Sheppard met his gaze. "I've, ah," Rodney went on, forcing the words out, staring at the flecks of brown in Sheppard's green, green eyes, "I want this. Us. I'll do whatever - whatever you want. I know I'm bad at, at hiding things, but this is worth it - and you know, you’ve seen me keep secrets when it counts. This counts." Rodney's voice cracked, and he winced, but he didn't look away. "I mean it. This counts."
Sheppard looked away and licked his lips. "Yeah. Okay. This will work." He looked back at Rodney. "It counts for, uh. You know." He rolled one shoulder up; his stomach tightened under Rodney's palm. "Me, too."
"So what do we do?" Rodney said. He slid his hand down, down, under the covers; found Sheppard hard under the cotton. "I mean, other than this."
"As often as possible," Sheppard said. "I dunno." He closed his eyes and stretched his arms over his head - long and lean and gorgeous, and Rodney caught his breath, staring - then relaxed and blinked lazily up at Rodney. "We'll be okay."
"Assuming I survive the sex," Rodney said. He ducked his head, pressing his forehead against Sheppard's prickly temple. "I'll probably want to sleep with the lights on for a while."
"Yeah." Sheppard's fingers trailed through his hair; cupped his skull. "I feel a little useless."
"Got used to being led around on a leash?" Rodney said. "You remember those collars that time?" He felt dreamy, sleepy. "Those were hot."
Sheppard slapped the back of his head.
"Oh, what?" Rodney lifted his head, looked at Sheppard some more. "Hey, just because your days as my seeing eye dog are over doesn't mean you're useless."
"You're right." Sheppard's lips quirked up at one corner. "I still have that whole military leader of Earth's most distant outpost thing going for me." He shrugged one shoulder. "I just got used to helping you out."
"Well, it's been a long time since I had a regular source of orgasms," Rodney pointed out. "I think you could be a lot of help in that department."
Sheppard's smirk deepened. "Orgasms are a two-way street, McKay," he said.
Rodney rolled his eyes, pleased when he didn't simultaneously list to one side. "Oh, for Chrissakes," he said. "I'll blow you right now if it'll shut you up."
Sheppard pulled him down for another kiss. "Probably," he said into Rodney's mouth. "Guess you'll just have to try it and see."
~*~
THE END