Not a Romance Novelist
for siriaeve (spoilers for 5x15 - Remnants)
Rodney doesn't bring it up-he doesn't ask John about what the Sekkari AI did to him, because, for one thing, he's pretty sure it was pretty bad, and all the faux-Radek had done to him was hover a lot and give him compliments. And also-and also because Sheppard is Sheppard, and he's as good at shoving stuff way deep down inside as any of them, and it's easier to just trust that he'll do whatever he needs to do to keep going.
And so it's not until two or three weeks later that Rodney, during movie night, notices that while Joan Wilder's busy having her bloodied hand offered up to a crocodile, John's resolutely staring at the ceiling. Rodney looks back at the movie and then at John again, and he's still gazing up at nothing, his head tilted back, and in the reflected light from the screen, Rodney can just make out a muscle in his jaw twitching.
John mostly covers the flinch when Rodney wraps a hand around his wrist and tugs, pulls him out of their row, and they manage to slip out of the room pretty quietly (for them). Rodney figures he has a limited window to say something before John finds a way to escape, so he whispers, "What's going on?" John shakes his head, and Rodney keeps talking, as quiet as he can, "No, come on, I mean it-I thought you liked that movie. You said you thought Kathleen Turner was hot!" John's still not saying anything, and Rodney can already feel his throat protesting trying to keep his voice so low, but any minute someone's going to poke their head out and tell them to keep it down, and it'll probably be Ronon, so.
Finally, John slumps against the wall behind him like he's giving in, and Rodney would indulge in a little internal cheer if John didn't look so tired. "I don't want to talk about it, okay Rodney?" he sighs. "I really don't want to talk about it."
Rodney's not good at this stuff; he's never been sure what to do in situations like these. Does he let it go, or does he push? He's terrible in situations like these, actually, but he thinks he might owe John this, and he's opening his mouth to try one more time and hoping that some of the words that come out will be the right ones-
But John's the one who ends up doing the pushing-he pushes off the wall and pushes himself right into Rodney's space and kisses him, and it feels fervent, and fond, and it's very obviously a ploy to avoid talking about whatever he's feeling, but Rodney can't quite make himself think that's a bad thing, and he concentrates on giving back as good as he's getting.
When John pulls away, it's just far enough that, slowly and deliberately, he can settle both hands on Rodney's shoulders. All Rodney can think is warm-John's palms are warm and certain, and his voice is low and warm (and warming) when he rasps, "Thanks, Rodney." And Rodney's not sure what he did, but maybe it was the right thing after all, because when John says, hesitating only a little, "I'll- it's going to be okay," Rodney believes him.
Rodney doesn't bring it up-he doesn't ask John about what the Sekkari AI did to him, because, for one thing, he's pretty sure it was pretty bad, and all the faux-Radek had done to him was hover a lot and give him compliments. And also-and also because Sheppard is Sheppard, and he's as good at shoving stuff way deep down inside as any of them, and it's easier to just trust that he'll do whatever he needs to do to keep going.
And so it's not until two or three weeks later that Rodney, during movie night, notices that while Joan Wilder's busy having her bloodied hand offered up to a crocodile, John's resolutely staring at the ceiling. Rodney looks back at the movie and then at John again, and he's still gazing up at nothing, his head tilted back, and in the reflected light from the screen, Rodney can just make out a muscle in his jaw twitching.
John mostly covers the flinch when Rodney wraps a hand around his wrist and tugs, pulls him out of their row, and they manage to slip out of the room pretty quietly (for them). Rodney figures he has a limited window to say something before John finds a way to escape, so he whispers, "What's going on?" John shakes his head, and Rodney keeps talking, as quiet as he can, "No, come on, I mean it-I thought you liked that movie. You said you thought Kathleen Turner was hot!" John's still not saying anything, and Rodney can already feel his throat protesting trying to keep his voice so low, but any minute someone's going to poke their head out and tell them to keep it down, and it'll probably be Ronon, so.
Finally, John slumps against the wall behind him like he's giving in, and Rodney would indulge in a little internal cheer if John didn't look so tired. "I don't want to talk about it, okay Rodney?" he sighs. "I really don't want to talk about it."
Rodney's not good at this stuff; he's never been sure what to do in situations like these. Does he let it go, or does he push? He's terrible in situations like these, actually, but he thinks he might owe John this, and he's opening his mouth to try one more time and hoping that some of the words that come out will be the right ones-
But John's the one who ends up doing the pushing-he pushes off the wall and pushes himself right into Rodney's space and kisses him, and it feels fervent, and fond, and it's very obviously a ploy to avoid talking about whatever he's feeling, but Rodney can't quite make himself think that's a bad thing, and he concentrates on giving back as good as he's getting.
When John pulls away, it's just far enough that, slowly and deliberately, he can settle both hands on Rodney's shoulders. All Rodney can think is warm-John's palms are warm and certain, and his voice is low and warm (and warming) when he rasps, "Thanks, Rodney." And Rodney's not sure what he did, but maybe it was the right thing after all, because when John says, hesitating only a little, "I'll- it's going to be okay," Rodney believes him.