Fic: Pinned (McKay/Sheppard)
Title: Pinned
Author: tropes
Recipient: villainny
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: PG
Words: ~1400
Spoilers: Through "This Mortal Coil"
Summary: He'd heard the phrase 'pinned by the male gaze' before, mostly from women who were pissed off about it, but he'd never personally experienced anything like that before McKay.
A/N: I'm really sorry. I couldn't find anyone to beta this for me on short notice. Any mistakes or stupidities are 100% unintentional and a result of writing far too quickly while being accosted by puppies and vomiting roommates. D:
~~~
The first time John saw Rodney McKay, there were about a grillion people standing around, gaping, as John conjured a vision of the universe at the whim of a barking whirlwind, and John remembers thinking, Hey. Hey, yeah, yes. He'd heard the phrase 'pinned by the male gaze' before, mostly from women who were pissed off about it, but he'd never personally experienced anything like that before McKay. But there he was, pinned to the chair like a, like a specimen by this guy who was all blue eyes and orange fleece, and he heard his own voice drawl "Did I do that?" and he made himself scrunch his forehead up quizzically, and was amused to see those blue eyes roll and come back to him, piercing and speculative.
He kind of liked it. All of it.
The coin toss was, he reflects later, all for show, even if the only one looking was him.
~~~
Just about everything John does after coming to the SGC for a whirlwind training session, debriefing after debriefing in which he learned the difference between the Goa'uld and the Tok'ra, between a zat and a staff weapon, between an Ori Prior and a Jaffa warrior, aside from, you know, sleeping and eating, is try to get McKay to look at him again.
It's pretty hard, actually. Whole days go by without John ever seeing McKay at all, but then he'll turn a corner or sit at a table in the mess, and there he'll be, already making fun of John's demeanor, his hair, his entire self, his mouth half-full of Mystery Gumbo or whatever they're serving for lunch, and John finds himself basking in the attention, overcoming his natural reserve to snipe back, barely holding his pleased grin in check.
Sure, he's going on a one-way trip to another galaxy with a bunch of marines and a CO who hates his guts. But as McKay gripes about the quality of the coffee on base, his hands gesticulating wildly, before abruptly snapping his fingers and running back to the labs, John reflects that at least he isn't going alone.
~~~
Somewhere along the line, in between McKay saving them all from the energy being and them getting attacked by a ten thousand year old starving Wraith, McKay becomes Rodney.
Much, much later, and under circumstances that John would give almost every stolen, one-sided moment with Rodney to prevent, John becomes John, and if the heat blooming in his chest makes his voice rough, makes his actions reckless, well.
He's only just now making real progress. It's kind of understandable, he thinks, if he'd prefer that they all not die before he can figure out how to get Rodney up to speed. In the end, Radek is fine, and John is fine, and then they lose Elizabeth, and all John can think is that the only good thing he's got going now is the way his name sounds on Rodney's lips. How he wants to hear it again.
The way John's feeling, the way he's felt for years, Rodney's got a lot of catching up to do, now that he seems to be finally catching on.
~~~
Three years, four months, six days, seventeen hours and forty-two minutes after sitting in a chair in Antarctica-
"-and, and, and, look, there are about fifteen more that just popped up, how can you think I'm just gonna go to bed and sleep right now? Because, seriously, all I can think about is the fact that those renegade Replicators went and made another me, like I'm some kind of- of Cylon model they can just manufacture, and, and, oh." John watches the blood drain out of Rodney's cheeks like flavoring out of a Sno-Cone. "That's a thought I never needed to have."
"What? That they could kidnap us and replace us with… us?" John supplies, helpfully, he thinks. "I'm surprised it never occurred to you before." It's a feeble distraction from the occasional randomly-occurring beeps that herald the core drive finding another ship, but it works for John. He shrugs, trying for nonchalant. "I really don't think the other me would really go for that. And what's the point of a spy who doesn't know he's a spy, anyway? Kind of defeats the purpose."
"It's just." Rodney sits, heavily. "He was me. And the other you was you. There were no weird, dissonant moments like with Rod, no creepy smiling menace like with the nightmare you from a few months ago. It was us, and I can't decide if we'd be incredibly lucky or incredibly unlucky if they're out there still." Rodney turns to look at John, eyes wide and arresting. "I. I saw myself. I saw Teyla and Ronon. And I saw you." He swallows convulsively, and something in John stills, clenches. "I saw you, seeing me."
For a moment, John just looks at Rodney, debating. Then, before he can talk himself out of it, "I do see you, Rodney." Heat flashes through him, and he steps closer. "I see you. Today. Yesterday." A breath. Say it. "Last year. The year before that."
He didn't think Rodney's eyes could get any wider. He was wrong. Behind him, the console beeps twice. Two more ships. Two more ways to die. Rodney opens his mouth to reply, and nothing comes out. John steps closer again, trying to be brave enough for both of them. "If the Replicators tried to replace you with another you, I'd notice," he murmurs. The tiny, bitchy voice that's lived inside of him for just over a year now pipes up, But dollars to donuts Katie Brown'd never notice a thing. The thought should make him smile, but it doesn't.
"I never really-" Rodney breaks off, unsure. He's been that way more and more with John, willing to be less than 100% right all the time in favor of actually being a person, and John's been reveling in it for weeks, this new closeness. He waits for Rodney to regain his footing, biting his lip. Rodney's eyes dart over his face, and he seems to see something he doesn't like, because his brow furrows and he looks at his hands instead. When he finally manages to articulate what he's feeling, his voice is low. "Zelenka went and got you, didn't he? I told him there wasn't anything I needed for him to get, but he just had to butt in."
John nods, risks a hand on Rodney's shoulder. "Yeah."
A laugh. "He could have at least sent you with coffee." Rodney turns his head to regard John's hand, his gaze flickering over the scars on John's knuckles that he got when he was eight and thought the greatest adventure on the planet would be to ride the automatic garage door as it went up into the ceiling. (Turns out? Not so great.) His hand lifts to encircle John's wrist, and John holds his breath, waiting, as Rodney's eyes flicker up to his, and boom, he's pinned. "He's smart. Radek." Rodney turns to face him, slow, slow, more careful than John ever thought he knew how to be. "He sees me pretty well." Rodney's mouth curls up at one side. "But not the way you do, I think."
John's eyes slide shut as Rodney's free hand slips up to cup the back of his neck, and they lean into each others' space, forehead to temple, and boy, this is stupid, but beep, beep-beep goes the console, and suddenly John cares less about his career and the life he lived before Atlantis than he ever has, because this is what he's been waiting for, and Rodney's nose brushes his cheek, and Rodney's upper lip touches his, and it's Hey. Hey, yeah, yes all over again and-
And there's a vision of the universe spread out before them dancing behind John's eyelids, and Rodney's mouth curves into a small smile under his, and beep they're probably gonna die, but they might not, and they certainly won't be dying before Rodney learns what it's like to be pinned, because John's even less alone than he was when this whole thing started. He never thought that was possible.
He knows better now.
Author: tropes
Recipient: villainny
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: PG
Words: ~1400
Spoilers: Through "This Mortal Coil"
Summary: He'd heard the phrase 'pinned by the male gaze' before, mostly from women who were pissed off about it, but he'd never personally experienced anything like that before McKay.
A/N: I'm really sorry. I couldn't find anyone to beta this for me on short notice. Any mistakes or stupidities are 100% unintentional and a result of writing far too quickly while being accosted by puppies and vomiting roommates. D:
~~~
The first time John saw Rodney McKay, there were about a grillion people standing around, gaping, as John conjured a vision of the universe at the whim of a barking whirlwind, and John remembers thinking, Hey. Hey, yeah, yes. He'd heard the phrase 'pinned by the male gaze' before, mostly from women who were pissed off about it, but he'd never personally experienced anything like that before McKay. But there he was, pinned to the chair like a, like a specimen by this guy who was all blue eyes and orange fleece, and he heard his own voice drawl "Did I do that?" and he made himself scrunch his forehead up quizzically, and was amused to see those blue eyes roll and come back to him, piercing and speculative.
He kind of liked it. All of it.
The coin toss was, he reflects later, all for show, even if the only one looking was him.
~~~
Just about everything John does after coming to the SGC for a whirlwind training session, debriefing after debriefing in which he learned the difference between the Goa'uld and the Tok'ra, between a zat and a staff weapon, between an Ori Prior and a Jaffa warrior, aside from, you know, sleeping and eating, is try to get McKay to look at him again.
It's pretty hard, actually. Whole days go by without John ever seeing McKay at all, but then he'll turn a corner or sit at a table in the mess, and there he'll be, already making fun of John's demeanor, his hair, his entire self, his mouth half-full of Mystery Gumbo or whatever they're serving for lunch, and John finds himself basking in the attention, overcoming his natural reserve to snipe back, barely holding his pleased grin in check.
Sure, he's going on a one-way trip to another galaxy with a bunch of marines and a CO who hates his guts. But as McKay gripes about the quality of the coffee on base, his hands gesticulating wildly, before abruptly snapping his fingers and running back to the labs, John reflects that at least he isn't going alone.
~~~
Somewhere along the line, in between McKay saving them all from the energy being and them getting attacked by a ten thousand year old starving Wraith, McKay becomes Rodney.
Much, much later, and under circumstances that John would give almost every stolen, one-sided moment with Rodney to prevent, John becomes John, and if the heat blooming in his chest makes his voice rough, makes his actions reckless, well.
He's only just now making real progress. It's kind of understandable, he thinks, if he'd prefer that they all not die before he can figure out how to get Rodney up to speed. In the end, Radek is fine, and John is fine, and then they lose Elizabeth, and all John can think is that the only good thing he's got going now is the way his name sounds on Rodney's lips. How he wants to hear it again.
The way John's feeling, the way he's felt for years, Rodney's got a lot of catching up to do, now that he seems to be finally catching on.
~~~
Three years, four months, six days, seventeen hours and forty-two minutes after sitting in a chair in Antarctica-
"-and, and, and, look, there are about fifteen more that just popped up, how can you think I'm just gonna go to bed and sleep right now? Because, seriously, all I can think about is the fact that those renegade Replicators went and made another me, like I'm some kind of- of Cylon model they can just manufacture, and, and, oh." John watches the blood drain out of Rodney's cheeks like flavoring out of a Sno-Cone. "That's a thought I never needed to have."
"What? That they could kidnap us and replace us with… us?" John supplies, helpfully, he thinks. "I'm surprised it never occurred to you before." It's a feeble distraction from the occasional randomly-occurring beeps that herald the core drive finding another ship, but it works for John. He shrugs, trying for nonchalant. "I really don't think the other me would really go for that. And what's the point of a spy who doesn't know he's a spy, anyway? Kind of defeats the purpose."
"It's just." Rodney sits, heavily. "He was me. And the other you was you. There were no weird, dissonant moments like with Rod, no creepy smiling menace like with the nightmare you from a few months ago. It was us, and I can't decide if we'd be incredibly lucky or incredibly unlucky if they're out there still." Rodney turns to look at John, eyes wide and arresting. "I. I saw myself. I saw Teyla and Ronon. And I saw you." He swallows convulsively, and something in John stills, clenches. "I saw you, seeing me."
For a moment, John just looks at Rodney, debating. Then, before he can talk himself out of it, "I do see you, Rodney." Heat flashes through him, and he steps closer. "I see you. Today. Yesterday." A breath. Say it. "Last year. The year before that."
He didn't think Rodney's eyes could get any wider. He was wrong. Behind him, the console beeps twice. Two more ships. Two more ways to die. Rodney opens his mouth to reply, and nothing comes out. John steps closer again, trying to be brave enough for both of them. "If the Replicators tried to replace you with another you, I'd notice," he murmurs. The tiny, bitchy voice that's lived inside of him for just over a year now pipes up, But dollars to donuts Katie Brown'd never notice a thing. The thought should make him smile, but it doesn't.
"I never really-" Rodney breaks off, unsure. He's been that way more and more with John, willing to be less than 100% right all the time in favor of actually being a person, and John's been reveling in it for weeks, this new closeness. He waits for Rodney to regain his footing, biting his lip. Rodney's eyes dart over his face, and he seems to see something he doesn't like, because his brow furrows and he looks at his hands instead. When he finally manages to articulate what he's feeling, his voice is low. "Zelenka went and got you, didn't he? I told him there wasn't anything I needed for him to get, but he just had to butt in."
John nods, risks a hand on Rodney's shoulder. "Yeah."
A laugh. "He could have at least sent you with coffee." Rodney turns his head to regard John's hand, his gaze flickering over the scars on John's knuckles that he got when he was eight and thought the greatest adventure on the planet would be to ride the automatic garage door as it went up into the ceiling. (Turns out? Not so great.) His hand lifts to encircle John's wrist, and John holds his breath, waiting, as Rodney's eyes flicker up to his, and boom, he's pinned. "He's smart. Radek." Rodney turns to face him, slow, slow, more careful than John ever thought he knew how to be. "He sees me pretty well." Rodney's mouth curls up at one side. "But not the way you do, I think."
John's eyes slide shut as Rodney's free hand slips up to cup the back of his neck, and they lean into each others' space, forehead to temple, and boy, this is stupid, but beep, beep-beep goes the console, and suddenly John cares less about his career and the life he lived before Atlantis than he ever has, because this is what he's been waiting for, and Rodney's nose brushes his cheek, and Rodney's upper lip touches his, and it's Hey. Hey, yeah, yes all over again and-
And there's a vision of the universe spread out before them dancing behind John's eyelids, and Rodney's mouth curves into a small smile under his, and beep they're probably gonna die, but they might not, and they certainly won't be dying before Rodney learns what it's like to be pinned, because John's even less alone than he was when this whole thing started. He never thought that was possible.
He knows better now.