Fic: Into the West (1/2)
Author: rinkafic
Wordcount: 12,608
Rating: R/NC-17
Pairing: McShep
Summary: John Sheppard goes west to help an old friend.
Warning(s): none
Notes: I took advantage of the spoilers Joe Mallozzi recently posted about Stargate: Extinction for the status of Atlantis. A big giant thank you to my betas, fairjennet the comma wrangler and kyaraelf the ever vigilant
Companion piece to Into the West.
Into the West
To: JSheppard.USAF.gov
Fr: DSheppard.SheppardIndustries.net
Subject: Double K Bar Ranch
Do you ever answer your email, John? This is the third one in two weeks that I’m sending.
I know you said you didn’t want anything to do with the business, I understand and respect that. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t bother you with this, but I think this particular problem might be of interest to you, and it is something I prefer we handled between us instead of involving strangers. The ranch was always more of a personal interest to Dad than part of the business, and I have a lot of happy memories about the place.
I’m not sure if you heard the news or got my previous messages, since you didn’t answer. Steven Kilkenny, the foreman out at the Double K Bar, passed away a few months ago of a heart attack. Anna Beth has been handling things as best as she knows how, trying to cover her father’s duties until we can hire a new foreman. Though she’s too stubborn to admit it, I can read between the lines of her emails. She’s having a rough time, John. Anna Beth is an excellent horse trainer, but the day to day administration is something she neither wanted nor was she prepared to take on. She was a friend to us both when we were kids. I’m stuck at the London office and cannot possibly get to Wyoming before the drive that’s scheduled for the 18th.
You said if I needed help to ask. I’m asking, John. On behalf of Anna Beth Kilkenny, if there is any possible way for you to get your ass out to Wyoming, please do so.
I’ve forwarded the emails Anna Beth and I have been exchanging. Also, sending the last year’s worth of financial documents from the ranch, and the information pertaining to the contract the Double K Bar has for this upcoming drive on the 18th. I sincerely doubt that you’ve forgotten how to do an analysis, nor how to sit a horse and run a drive, surely the Air Force hasn’t drummed everything Dad taught us out of you.
Answer me this time.
Dave
To: DSheppard.SheppardIndustries.net
Fr: JSheppard.USAF.gov
Re: Double K Bar Ranch
I’ll take care of it.
John
~*~
Moving Atlantis to the moon was probably the best solution to the security issues involved with keeping her on Earth. At least, that was Sheppard’s opinion. Even just the short time the city had rested in San Francisco harbor had been stressful and a logistics nightmare for Homeworld Security. The Earth media was more tenacious than an Iratus bug once they got hold of a story, and since the IOA and SGC were in no way ready to take the Stargate program public, removing Atlantis from the premises seemed the prudent thing to do.
After touching down softly at the City’s new temporary home slightly to the west of the original Apollo 11 landing site, Sheppard disengaged the control chair and slid off. He gave a nod to the technicians that had stayed in the Chair Room and then followed McKay out into the corridor.
Teyla and Ronon were waiting. Ronon pushed away from the wall where he had been leaning and fell into step with his teammates.
“Well, that’s that, boys and girls. Now we wait for word to go home while the suits fight it out.” John clapped his hands and infused the statement with as much false cheer as he could muster. They had all wanted to make the return trip to Pegasus, not park on the moon.
“Movie night tonight?” Ronon asked hopefully. “Amelia got the whole Harry Potter series on DVD; she wants to have a marathon.”
Nodding, Teyla said, “I would like to see those again, I will attend.”
“I’m in. I’ve got nothing better to do.” Rodney shrugged his shoulders. He’d been miserable since they had landed on Earth and a disastrous visit to Keller’s father had put the kibosh on the fledgling romance between the two doctors. In an effort to put as much distance between them, Jennifer had taken a permanent position at Stargate Command medical. If and when Atlantis returned to Pegasus, it would be with a new CMO. He turned to John. “You bring the popcorn, Sheppard.”
John stopped and turned to face his teammates, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking on his heels as he said, “I won’t be able to. You guys have fun. I’m heading back to Earth; I have a lot of leave time to burn.”
“You’re leaving?” McKay looked insulted at the thought.
“That’s why they call it leave, Rodney. I leave the base, take myself elsewhere.” Sheppard tossed Ronon and Teyla an apologetic look and then turned to head to his quarters to gather his gear. He had gotten used to the idea of McKay and Keller; he’d managed to develop a mask and method of dealing with that. But now, McKay was unattached again, and John was out of the habit of dealing with Rodney and all the feelings the scientist stirred up in him. He wanted to put distance between them, it was easier that way. In this, he and Keller had something else in common.
He didn’t get far before he heard McKay’s quick footsteps behind him, and felt a warm hand land on his shoulder. “Where are you going?”
With a heavy and put-upon sigh John replied, “Earth. Leave.” McKay was touching him. John had to force himself not to lean into the touch, though he wanted to, he really wanted to.
“Why do you do that? Are you mad at me for something?”
“Do what?”
McKay might not have the best people skills, but that didn’t mean he missed everything. And five years of interpreting John Sheppard gave him an edge others did not have. He knew something was wrong. “Push me away. You’ve been weird and pissy ever since I told you about Jen and me breaking up. What’s your problem?”
The hand was still on his shoulder. John could feel the warmth radiating through his t-shirt. He shook his head in denial. “I don’t have a problem, Rodney; I just have a lot on my mind. And now I’m going to have a break and relax and get over some of it.”
“Get over some of what? That implies that you do have a problem.”
The temptation to spill everything was too strong. He valued McKay’s friendship; he knew telling him about his big gay crush would wreck that. Straight guys got weird about it. No matter what they said or what their intentions might be to not let it be weird, knowing always changed things. That was why John kept his secrets, it was better that way. “I’ve been under a lot of stress, Rodney, we all have. I’m sorry if I’ve been a jerk. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
“Yeah, well, okay.” McKay gave him a small smile, patted his shoulder and withdrew his hand. “So, where are you going on your vacation?”
“Jackson Hole, Wyoming.”
Rodney titled his head and said, “Huh. There’s a big park there, right? Doing some climbing?”
“Not this trip. I’ve got to take care of some family business; I won’t have much time to do any hiking or climbing. Just a lot of riding, actually.” He started walking towards his quarters again, intent on packing and getting as far away from Rodney as he could. The fresh air and open space would do him good, would let him clear his mind. After five years, he wasn’t stupid enough to think he’d ever get over this crush, but time apart usually gave him a chance to get his defense mechanisms firmly in place so that he could function around Rodney and behave like the best friend he tried to be. It was the best he could hope for and he would do anything to protect that link between them. “See ya, Rodney.”
He thought McKay was going to let it drop, but no. The scientist ran after him and put himself in John’s path. “You said Dave was handing all the family business stuff these days.”
“Dave can’t deal with this right now. He asked me to see to it.” John tried to edge past him, but Rodney was having none of the usual evasive maneuvers.
“What the hell is in Wyoming?”
“A ranch. A horse ranch. It’s been in the family for generations. Our foreman died and things are in a twist and Dave asked me to go out there and see what I could do. There’s a herd of horses that has to be rounded up and driven to market.”
And then McKay did something that utterly shocked Sheppard, as it was unexpected and completely out of character. He blurted out, “I’ll go with you.”
John shook his head. “This is a working vacation, at a horse ranch, Rodney.”
Crossing his arms, Rodney snapped, “I heard you the first time. I want to go.”
“Why?” John peered at him suspiciously.
Waving a hand around to take in the city, Rodney shrugged and answered casually, “I need a break too.”
This was not going according to plan. McKay going with him to Wyoming was going to have the opposite of the effect John was striving to accomplish. There would be no peace of mind, no emotional distancing, no relief from the daily torture of watching Rodney’s hands or hanging on every snarky word he hurled at one of his minions. It would be day in and day out with Rodney.
“Okay.” What the hell was the matter with him? Was he possessed or something? Did he just agree to drag the biggest whiner in Atlantis to Wyoming to drive horses?
One of the perks of being a majority shareholder and the brother of the CFO of Sheppard Industries was that John had access to the company air fleet. That included a helicopter, which he happily commandeered, saving them a long ride by pickup truck from the airport to the ranch. John couldn’t resist pulling a few aerial maneuvers when they got out over the wide open spaces of Wyoming. He expected McKay to squeal and complain, but his passenger sat there placidly in his seat, alternately admiring the scenery or napping. John didn’t know how McKay managed that; the irregular vibrations of the chopper would have kept him awake.
“You’ve been coming here for a long time?” McKay asked over the helmet mic.
“Yeah, Dave and I spent at least part of the summer out here every year. I made it almost every year until I joined the Air Force, and then whenever I was on furlough.”
“It’s big. There’s so much space.” Rodney stared out at the wide expanse of blue sky. It seemed to go on forever. John loved flying out here even more than he loved riding, and riding out here was one of his life’s greatest pleasures. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. He had three things he loved available to fill his time out here; the chopper, the horses and Rodney. He’d just have to find some new ways of coping with Rodney.
John landed the helicopter in a field not far from the sprawling two-level ranch house. “That’s not a ranch house, Sheppard. That’s a mansion. A ranch house is a little dinky, rustic thing with a big front porch and rocking chairs.”
“There’s a veranda off the back, behind the kitchen. There’s no rockers that I remember, but there used to be a porch swing, will that do?”
“Ronon implied you were rich, I thought it was just his Pegasus comparison and social misinterpretation of the situation.”
Sheppard shrugged, money wasn’t very important to him, it never had been. He appreciated the things it had allowed him to have in his life, but if it all disappeared tomorrow, he would be fine with that. Other things were more important. He watched Rodney take in the outbuildings and the main house and smiled at the relief he read there. McKay must have been anticipating roughing it.
“Well, come on, I’m sure they heard us.” He pulled off his helmet, dropped it in back of the seat and climbed down. Gathering his bags, he waited for Rodney to do the same and then started walking towards the house.
“I expected there to be more people around.” Rodney had his SGC issued backpack on and a duffel in one hand. His ever-present laptop was nestled in a case that was slung over one shoulder.
“The day to day running of the place doesn’t take many people, when there’s a cattle drive or haying to be done, we hire out for seasonal help. I suspect the majority of the hands are out trying to round up the mares that have to be taken to Salt Lake City.”
“Why Salt Lake City?”
“The train is there. We take the horses there and get them loaded on a cattle car and then they’re off to the buyers, who will meet them on the other end and take care of transporting them where they need to go.”
Rodney was staring at the woman approaching them at a run as he said, “It sounds simple.”
“It isn’t too bad. I think Dave just wanted me to hook up with Anna Beth again.” John dropped his bags and opened his arms to catch the petite redhead that flew at him. He laughed and swung her around.
Rodney had never seen John Sheppard so open with anyone in all the time he had known him. A surge of jealousy swept over him as he watched him hug and kiss the pretty little woman in his arms. There was history there; it was easy enough for Rodney to see it.
He finally put the woman down onto her feet and turned her towards Rodney, dropping an arm around her shoulders. “Anna Beth Kilkenny, this is my good friend, Rodney McKay. Rodney, this is Anna Beth, she’s family.”
Rodney held out a hand and shook the small, calloused and strong hand she offered as she met his eyes. “Welcome to the Double K Bar, Mister McKay.”
“Doctor, actually, but call me Rodney, I’m on vacation.” He wanted to hate her, this little woman that had a place in Sheppard’s heart. But he couldn’t, there was something in her face, in her eyes, that made him feel truly welcome. It wasn’t often that people welcomed his arrival.
“Rodney, then.” She smiled and released his hand, and McKay felt that his measure had just been taken in some way when she tilted her head and nodded. “You boys must be beat. That is no short hop from Colorado Springs. Come on up to the house, we’ll get you settled in and then get some grub into ya.”
“You have no idea.” McKay muttered in response to her remark about the trip. They had been on the moon only a few short hours ago. He followed John and Anna Beth, who were chattering about mutual acquaintances, changes Sheppard noticed about the ranch, and how the weather was likely to affect their plans for the week.
Observing, Rodney was again struck by the differences in his friend out here. There was no tension in his posture; his shoulders were loose as he loped along beside the redhead with her double quick stride. He was talking, too. Not the usual rationing of words McKay had come to expect from Sheppard, but ‘normal people’ style talking.
It made his heart clench to see it, to know that someone could bring all that out of John, someone that wasn’t him. Coming here had been a mistake, and now he was stuck with the consequences. He was going to have to spend the next three weeks in the middle of Nowhere, God’s Country with the object of his misplaced affections while said object fawned over someone else. He should have thought this out more, but when Sheppard had said he was leaving, just when Rodney realized that he needed him around, that he wanted the company of his best friend while he got over his annoyance about Jennifer, he had impulsively invited himself on this trip.
He should have bowed out. And now he was stuck. He knew Sheppard was completely straight, he’d accepted it years ago, grown quite used to the idea that he’d never get the hot pilot in his bed. He had covered his infatuation with teasing each time Sheppard had flashed the come-hither smile at a chieftain’s daughter or visiting diplomat. It didn’t hurt anywhere near as much as it used to. But he hadn’t counted on one of Sheppard’s old flames being present. A realization hit him, and an explanation for Sheppard’s lack of commitment or actual involvement with anyone on Atlantis during the time Rodney had known him. All this time, he’d had this Anna Beth waiting back at the ranch.
Rodney cursed himself for three kinds of fool and stomped up the stairs to the house.
It was a mansion, as far as Rodney was concerned. He’d grown up in the suburbs, in a cozy middle class house that was like every other house on the block. McKay dropped his bags on the queen-sized bed in guest room and gave a heavy sigh. What had he gotten himself into?
There was a knock on the door, and Sheppard’s spiky head poked in when he called out, “Come in!” Sheppard smiled and edged his way into the room.
“I see she put you in Dave’s room. I’m right across the hall.” John crossed to the window and parted the lace curtains to look down across the property. “We used to climb out this window and shimmy down the tree there to sneak into town after my grandparents went to bed.”
Something about the memory made John smile, one of his real smiles, not one of the ones he put on for work. It made Rodney’s heart clench again to see it. He did not mean to say it but the observation in his head slipped off his tongue, “You love it here.”
John nodded and leaned back against the wall beside the window, casting occasional glances outside. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. I always figured if I live long enough, I’ll retire out here. Dave knows it. We’re opposites on this one. He hates being out here on the ranch as much as I love it. The only thing he ever really liked was the horses. He and our grandfather didn’t get along.”
More honesty and revelation than McKay would have gotten out of John in a month on Atlantis. Maybe it was Wyoming that had loosened his friend’s tongue.
“I should have asked sooner, do you ride, McKay?”
Rodney puffed out his chest. “As a matter of fact, I do. I had lessons as a boy, until my father’s grant ended and the money ran out and there weren’t any more piano lessons or ballet lessons or horseback riding lessons for Jeannie or me. I always liked horses.”
Oh, damn it. John was doing the puppy-dog head tilt thing that had always charmed Rodney. When John did that, though he didn’t know it, Rodney would agree to anything he asked or suggested, Rodney was helpless against that particular look.
“I didn’t know that about you.” John said, a bit of sadness in his voice. “I guess I was pretty lucky, I got to ride whenever I wanted, we had horses at every one of the houses. Well, I’ll let you unpack. Anna Beth said chow is on in an hour.” John licked his lips in anticipation and said, “Fried chicken, corn on the cob and the fluffiest biscuits you’ve ever had.”
“Foodgasm.” Rodney quipped, looking forward to the meal with relish now.
“Yeah. Cook is the best in three counties, my Dad saw to that. I’m gonna hit the shower, see ya in a while.” John waved and left the room.
Rodney groaned loudly and flopped backwards onto the bed, his mind now completely overtaken by the thought of John, naked, wet and soapy just across the hall. This had been a horrible, horrible idea, coming to Wyoming.
Dinner was delicious. Rodney stuffed himself full on the country style spread laid before him. The biscuits were his particular favorite, especially after John reached over, clasped his hand, took the flaky bit of heaven and slathered it with honey over the butter Rodney had already spread on it. Downing more food than McKay ever remembered seeing his friend eat in one sitting, John chatted with the ranch hands that came to eat at the wide kitchen table; some of them slapped his shoulder heartily, welcoming him home.
Anna Beth was watching John with an odd look on her face, which Rodney tried to ignore. It was probably anticipation of a romantic interlude somewhere with Sheppard. McKay shook his head to clear the thought away and snatched another biscuit from the basket in front of him. The niggling reminder that food was not to be used as a substitute for sex crept into his mind, but he shoved it aside; these biscuits were damned good, and he was certainly not getting any of what Anna Beth was eyeing tonight.
Still operating on Atlantis time, John was not quite ready to turn in, though most of the early risers on the ranch had long since done so. He went to the closet in his room and pulled out the guitar he kept there. He carried it down through the kitchen to the veranda and sat down on the step. It didn’t take him long to tune the instrument. He leaned back against the support post and lightly picked out a tune, one of George Strait’s. The Double K always brought out John’s country music tendencies, something he rarely admitted he even had.
“I’ve never heard you actually play. I thought the guitar in your quarters was some weird affectation.” Rodney stood just inside the screen door, and had waited for John to finish playing the song before he had made his observation. He pushed the door open and came outside, standing not far from where John sat.
John shrugged. “I play. I just play for me, though.”
“I can go. Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude, I couldn’t sleep.” Rodney turned to go back inside.
“You’re not intruding. I couldn’t sleep either. The cushion on the swing is pretty comfy, if my noise won’t bother you.”
John saw Rodney’s smile in the dim orange light from the wall sconce beside the kitchen door. McKay moved across the porch and dropped down onto the swing, setting it in motion.
His fingers on the frets, John began to strum another song. McKay was quiet for most of it, though John did not, could not forget he was sitting there behind him. His voice quietly asked, “Are there words to that one?”
With a snort, John warned him, “I don’t think you want me to sing, McKay.”
“Go ahead, there’s only the two of us,” Rodney coaxed. “I promise not to mock; I swear it on Schrödinger’s cat.”
“Well since you swore on the cat.” John conceded, and began to strum the song again, one of his favorites by Garth Brooks. He sang quietly, looking down at his feet in the semi-darkness until he got to the last verse and happened to look up and see Rodney staring at him. He stuttered for a moment, losing his place, but found it quickly again and sang;
So when you see that cowboy he's not ragged by his choice
He never meant to bow them legs or put that gravel in his voice
He's just chasin' what he really loves and what's burning in his soul
Wishin' to God that he'd been born and hundred years ago…
He finished the song and cleared his throat self consciously, his eyes still on Rodney.
“Don’t stop,” Rodney whispered.
“Song’s over,” John whispered back.
Rodney smiled. “Sing another one.”
They passed a companionable hour, John strumming and picking on the guitar and going through most of his cowboy song repertoire. He had expected McKay to deride the music style, since he was a professed classical music aficionado, but Rodney was actually an excellent audience, the most receptive John had ever played to. Well, the only one John had ever played to, so that made him the automatic best.
Tonight was a good memory, John thought as he carried his guitar upstairs, one he would hold onto for when the bad times came and he needed a calm place to retreat into. He bid Rodney goodnight in the hallway, wishing that things were different and that they were not going to separate rooms and separate beds.
The yard was a riot of noise the next morning when Rodney followed John to the stables. He deliberately walked numerous steps behind his friend, because, hey, tight Levis. He’d always thought Sheppard did not have an ass, but the tight jeans proved that assumption wrong. This was going to be a very, very long day. Rodney paused and tugged the leg of his own jeans down a bit and gave a wriggle to adjust the tight discomfort his wandering thoughts about Sheppard’s ass were causing.
“Good morning Johnny, Rodney!” Anna Beth kissed John’s cheek and gave Rodney a wide, toothy smile as they approached.
Unable to resist the open and honest smile, Rodney gave her one of his own. “Good morning, Anna Beth.”
Leading them into the barn and tugging her leather gloves off to tuck them into her belt, she asked, “Ever done a round up before, Rodney?”
“I can honestly say no.” He adjusted the wide brimmed suede hat John had retrieved from a closet in the bedroom and dropped onto his head this morning. He liked it, it was a little cool, in a cowboy cool kinda way. The black hat and black cowboy boots Sheppard wore made him look like he’d just stepped out of an ad for Stetson, and the way he moved in those Levis was like watching live porn.
“Well, the boys will tell you what to do. Stick close to Johnny, he knows the routine. Just keep your seat.” Anna Beth snickered and looked over at John. “Do you remember the time Davey slid off old Patsy’s back right into the Snake?”
The pair shared a laugh and Rodney looked at them in confusion. “His brother fell on a snake?”
“Into the Snake, McKay. The Snake River, he wasn’t hurt, just got a little messy.”
John smirked as Anna Beth added, “Messy? He was madder than a wet hen!”
Ignoring the twinge of jealousy over the shared memory, Rodney looked along the row of stalls. “Which horse shall I ride?”
Sobering up and getting back to business, since they had a yard full of ranch hands waiting, Anna Beth pointed to two different stalls. “There’s Tuna, and there’s Mac, I’d recommend either of those ladies.”
“Tuna and Mac?” John’s eyebrow went up as he repeated the names.
“Cook’s granddaughter named them; she was going through a food obsession phase at the time. Still is, she went off to culinary school.”
Rodney wandered over to stroke the silky nose of the horse named Mac. “So Mac is short for?”
Anna Beth gave him a bemused look as she answered, “Yes, macaroni and cheese.”
“Oh, you poor thing, named for a casserole. That is almost as bad as Meredith. We must be kindred sprits, old girl.” He patted the mare’s nose and looked around the stall for her tack. Glancing back over his shoulder he told Anna Beth, “I’ll take Mac.”
He remembered the steps, though it had been many years since he had saddled a horse. It had been part of the routine, and his muscle memory kicked in and he quickly fell into what he needed to do. He was just pulling the cinch tight around Mac’s tummy when John clomped up on his own horse to stand outside the stall, peering in and watching Rodney with a look of approval.
“And I was worried,” Sheppard drawled, “As usual; you know what you’re doing. Meet you outside.” He clucked his tongue and left the stable.
The ride out to the high pastures where the mares they needed to collect had free range was quite pleasant. The day wasn’t overly chilly; Rodney was able to shuck his jacket and ride in just his long sleeved shirt and the leather vest Sheppard had tossed him from Dave’s closet. Sheppard was also in his shirtsleeves; his long duster was folded and tucked behind his saddle. Sheppard walking in those indecently tight jeans was distracting; but riding, with his thighs gripping the horses flank, and his butt tilting slightly from side to side with the motion of the saddle was causing Rodney physical pain.
Until they reached the mares, the ride was not all that different than Rodney remembered from his childhood lessons. But then they broke into a canter and then a full gallop when they spotted their quarry, and Rodney was certain he echoed Sheppard’s whoop of delight as he raced after his friend. The wind was rushing in his face and he could feel the power and the strength of the mare beneath him as she ran. This was intoxicating, this feeling of being one with the horse, moving as a single entity across the grass of the meadow.
“Go that way, circle around.” John shouted over his shoulder as he waved Rodney to the left. He remembered that John had mentioned they needed to keep between the mares and the small narrow canyon that led to a larger pasture further north. If they went up there, it would take them a lot longer to round them up. Rodney saw the boulders that John had said marked the entrance to the canyon. He tugged his reins and guided Mac in that direction, intent on putting himself between the mares and their bolt hole.
Roping the mares was not something he intended to try. He knew his limitations. He had a lasso on his saddle, but he would only attempt to use it if absolutely necessary. He didn’t intend to embarrass himself, not in front of John and certainly not in front of John’s girl.
With a short break for lunch, the small team of wranglers set to work. The roundup went well. There were not that many horses to gather, only fifteen. The mares didn’t seem too overly keen on getting away, and only one earned the nickname of Houdini, so they were able to accomplish their goal without too much trouble. Rodney did end up pulling his lasso and made several attempts to toss the rope to catch a particularly feisty little white mare. Eventually, working in tandem with John, he did lasso the horse, which delighted him so much he burst into giggles. Manly giggles, but giggles nonetheless. That earned him an odd and somewhat affectionate look from Sheppard before he had spun away and cantered off to chase more horses. They had the string in motion on the way back down to the holding pens at the ranch long before sunset.
“You did good out there today, Rodney. Thanks for pitching in.” Anna Beth said as they rode up to the stable. “I had my doubts about a city slicker joining us, but you proved me wrong. You have a fine seat.” She whacked him on the shoulder and dismounted.
“He certainly does.” Sheppard remarked with a glance as he walked past, leading his horse by the reins. Had Sheppard just checked out his ass?
This was not working. He was deeper in emotional turmoil over Rodney than he had been back on Atlantis. He had thought when he agreed to have Rodney accompany him out here that the boisterous scientist would spend the entire time bitching and complaining about this place. Since John loved the place so much, that it would annoy the crud out of him. If he was annoyed at Rodney, that would help him regain his distance.
But it wasn’t happening that way at all. McKay was having fun; in fact John had never seen him so happy and relaxed. Not one complaint had passed his friend’s lips.
He took another cold shower and dragged on his clothes. He scooped up his hat and coat and headed for the back door. He needed to walk. Once outside in the twilight, he shoved his arms into the sleeves of the duster and forced his hat down over his head. He buried his hands in the coat pocket and set off at a half-march half-stomp.
Not paying attention to where he was going, he stomped past the stable and onto the worn riding track that ran alongside it.
“Hey! Where you going?” John could have screamed in frustration as he heard Rodney’s call.
Angry, since it was Rodney he was trying to walk away from, he spun on his heel and glared at his friend as McKay ran to catch up to him. As Rodney got closer, he must have seen the emotion on John’s face. His steps faltered and he stopped, looking unsure. “Is something wrong?”
“Yes! No. Forget it. I just needed to take a walk.” John turned away.
Rodney could move fast when he wanted to. He closed the distance between them and grabbed John’s arm, forcing him to stop. “You’re pissed at me again. What did I do?”
John yanked his arm out of Rodney’s grasp, and backpedaled a few steps to get away. He saw the hurt come onto Rodney’s face and the anger and frustration melted at the sight. He caused that. He had directly caused that pain. “I’m sorry Rodney. I’m so, so sorry. It isn’t you. It’s me, it’s my stupid ass problem and I shouldn’t be blaming you for it.” He dropped his chin to his chest and stared at his feet. “Some friend I am.”
“You’re my best friend,” Rodney said in the silence. “I don’t know why you even put up with me, why you bother to hang out with me.”
There was such honest bewilderment in McKay’s voice that John was forced to look up. The miserable look on Rodney’s face made his heart thump painfully. His feet moved of their own accord, bringing him closer to his friend. His best friend. “I’m sorry, Rodney. It isn’t you, it’s me. I don’t want to ruin this. You’re too important to me for me to ruin it. And I’m wrecking it.”
He never expected to be standing behind a barn in Wyoming having a deep discussion about friendship and feelings with John Sheppard. He had spent the last five years going out of his way to avoid this kind of conversation with this particular man. Something was wrong here, Rodney couldn’t put his finger on it, but something was wrong, and he sensed that it was the kind of wrong that could turn into a relationship breaker.
“How are you wrecking it? What have you done? Sure, you’re being a little cranky, but I hardly think that’s a disaster, Sheppard.” He tried to keep his tone light, he needed to keep Sheppard talking, keep gathering clues and evidence so he could piece this puzzle together.
“I can’t do this anymore,” Sheppard whispered, and it sounded to Rodney like he was on the verge of tears.
Rodney moved closer, trying to see up under the edge of John’s cowboy hat, which had been sexy as hell earlier but was now an annoyance as it masked his friend’s face. It hid the eyes he needed to see to interpret the Sheppardism that was going on here. “Do what anymore?”
For a minute, Rodney thought John wasn’t going to answer him, but then he turned his head and looked straight into Rodney’s eyes and said, “Pretend that this is less than it is.”
He had wanted to see his eyes. And what he saw there hit him like a physical blow. No masks, no hiding, no pretending, John was being completely honest. If Rodney was reading this correctly, the knowledge of what Sheppard felt was staggering.
“God damn,” Rodney said as he exhaled.
Without a word, John turned and bolted, leaving Rodney standing there in complete confusion, trying to process what he had just learned about his best friend. Events over the past five years ran through his mind. He considered looks and conversations, meals and arguments, words and stares, putting them through a new filter, applying a new hypothesis to their shared history.
John Sheppard loved him.
His straight best friend was in love with him. Rodney smiled, his heart warming with the knowledge. Maybe coming to Wyoming had not been such a mistake after all.
He let John run off to have his straight freak out on his own. He knew where the man was sleeping; he’d talk to him later. He turned back towards the house and started to formulate a plan of attack. He wanted John and intended to have him, now that he knew what he knew. He just had to make John understand he felt the same way.
John ran until his heart felt like it was going to burst in his chest, and his feet hurt too much to go another step. Cowboy boots were not made for cross country running, by any stretch of the imagination. He bent almost double, hands on his knees, panting.
He swiped angrily at the damned tears that were leaking out of his eyes. Crying. He was crying over Rodney McKay. He’d wrecked everything. In a moment of insane weakness, he had dropped the façade, and Rodney, perceptive, clever Rodney had figured him out in an instant.
This was a disaster. How could he face his friend again? Would Rodney even still want him as a friend?
He tried to figure out where he was, he had not been paying attention to his path. And it would be full dark soon. He was twice a fool, running out here, unarmed, with no one aware where he had gone. It would serve him right if a Grizzly killed him and a coyote gnawed his face off, both dire warnings often invoked by his grandfather against just this sort of rash behavior.
The house should be to the south, so he turned and started walking in that direction, his ears tuned for noise. He heard the horse and rider long before he saw the dark shadow approaching. “You okay Johnny?”
Anna Beth.
“How’d you know where I was?”
“I was working with one of the fillies in the training pen; you shot by me like the hounds of hell were on your ass. I know you, and figured you’d just keep running in a straight line, and you did.” She dismounted and walked over to him, and in the light from the moon, he could clearly see that she was concerned for him.
“I’m that predictable?”
“To them that know ya, yeah. What’s wrong, Johnny, lover’s spat?”
“What? No! We’re not… Rodney isn’t my… no.” John sputtered in denial.
“That Don’t Ask thing is long gone, Johnny. Why you still hidin’ when it don’t matter no more?”
He reached out to rub the horse’s neck, taking comfort in the warmth beneath his fingers. “It isn’t so easy.”
“Why? It’s obvious to any darn fool that looks at the pair of you that you got deep feelings for each other.” Anna Beth crossed her arms and glared at him in the dim light.
“It isn’t like that. He’s not… he doesn’t care about me like that. And now he’s going to get all weird because he figured me out. I think I just lost my best friend, Anna.”
She patted his arm. “Did he say that? What did he say about it, Johnny?”
“Nothing.”
“So, you spilled your guts, and he didn’t say a blessed thing?”
John kicked at the dirt with the toe of his boot and admitted sheepishly, “I sort of took off before he had a chance to say anything.”
“Typical. You will never change, Johnny Sheppard. Get your ass up on that horse.” She pointed and gave him a shove when he didn’t move.
“I can’t face him yet. Just give me a little more time.” He protested, not moving despite her repeated shoves.
She shook her head, sending her red curls flying in all directions. “Oh, no. You strike now, while the iron is hot, before you go putting up all those Sheppard walls you’re so good at and hiding this all away again. Get it out in the open and deal with it, Johnny.”
Rodney heard John come in; he had been listening for the footfalls on the stairs. Quickly ending his chat conversation with Zelenka, he put his laptop aside and slid off the bed, padding quietly over to the door and opening it a crack to peer out. John looked completely and totally miserable, his shoulders slumped, head down, even his hair looked limp. His hat and coat dangled from his hand, the duster dragging the floor as he moved along the hallway.
“Hey,” Rodney called as he opened the door fully. He’d startled John, the soldier jumped as he looked up at Rodney, wariness on his face. “Come here?”
With a shuddering sigh, John nodded reluctantly and brushed past Rodney into his room. He dropped his coat on the chair in the corner and stood turning the brim of the hat in his hands and he stared at his boots.
“So, that was a bit of a hit and run out there earlier.” Rodney said casually as he moved closer to John.
“Yeah, sorry about that. I didn’t mean…”
Rodney snorted lightly. “I know, you didn’t mean to let me know. You would have kept this to yourself for another five years, maybe longer. Damn, you can keep a secret, and you are a much better actor than I ever gave you credit for, Colonel. And I’m a blind fool.”
He moved close enough to reach a hand out and cup John’s cheek, lightly forcing his face upwards. “We’re some pair.”
“I’m sorry, Rodney,” John whispered brokenly.
“Me too, for all the time we wasted.” Licking his lips to dampen them, Rodney surged forward and pressed a kiss to John’s lips, one hand still cupping his face, holding him there as Rodney lightly licked at John’s mouth, deepening the kiss when John opened to him. He pulled back after a minute, or five, he’d lost track, and stared into John’s startled eyes. “So much time wasted.”
John blinked a few times and then smiled. He tossed his hat to the side and reached up with both hands to clasp Rodney’s face and pull him in for another kiss, this one a bit more of a mutual effort, since he was now actively participating.
Pulling away, John said breathlessly, “I thought you were straight.”
“Not so much. I thought you were.”
“Not so much.” John laughed and kissed him again, more forcefully, with a bit more passion. He might have used his teeth, a little bit. Rodney’s hands were everywhere at once, running over John’s back, shoulders and tangling in his hair. John broke off sucking on Rodney’s lower lip and asked huskily, “So, would you think I was easy if I told you I want to sleep with you right now?”
Rodney cuffed him upside the head gently in response. “Easy? You are the furthest thing from easy I have ever met. Five years, John, it took me five years to figure out you were interested. That is not easy. That is the longest stretch of foreplay in the history of foreplay. If you don’t get your ass over there onto that bed I’m going to be pissed off and think you’re a cock tease.”
With a wide smile, John backed towards the bed, tugging on Rodney’s t-shirt to draw him along after. He stopped when the back of his knees hit the mattress and wrapped his arms around Rodney’s waist. He bent his head and the kiss he gave Rodney was sweet and almost chaste in comparison to their earlier kisses.
“I haven’t done this in a while, years, actually.” John confessed as Rodney slid his hands up under the hem of his shirt.
Caressing John’s belly with small circles before moving up to rub across his pecs, Rodney asked distractedly, “With a guy?”
“With anyone.”
“Oh, damn.” Rodney caught his lips in a rough kiss again, a little turned on by the revelation that his friend was not the Lothario Rodney had always imagined him to be. “Now that is a damned shame. We have to do something about this, now.” John laughed and yanked on Rodney’s shoulders, tumbling them both to the bed, Rodney sprawled out over him.
The new position allowed Rodney to simultaneously suck at a spot on John’s throat that seemed to be an erogenous zone - if the whimpering and whining it caused was any guide to go on - while grinding his erection against John’s hip.
John tugged at Rodney’s t-shirt, trying to get it off. Rodney had to break off sucking on John’s neck to allow the removal of the apparently offensive garment. John murmured his approval and began to stroke at Rodney’s chest, sides and back. He began to buck lightly up against Rodney, seeking friction of the kind Rodney had against his hip.
“Shh, easy. I’ll get you.” Rodney reached down between them and tugged at the buttons of John’s jeans. Once he had the fly open, he slid his hands along John’s sides and pushed at the waistband of his pants, catching both jeans and boxers and sliding them down in one motion. John raised his hips and let Rodney drag the pants down his thighs. He left them just above John’s knees and abandoned the action to take John’s hot pulsing cock in his hand. “See, I’ve got you.” Rodney whispered in reassurance as he began to touch John with long, careful, almost reverent strokes.
Sagging back against the mattress as Rodney slowly jerked him; John looked up and met his eyes. He didn’t have to look away this time; he didn’t have to hide his feelings. It was out. Rodney knew. The serious blue eyes of his scientist watched him intently as he worked John, stroked him, caressed his cock as he pulled and released, pulled and twisted.
“Never thought, never imagined I’d ever see you like this.” Rodney whispered “God, you are so…”
John tossed his head, reveling in the pleasure Rodney was pulling out of him. Having Rodney’s weight pressed into him, the warmth of another human being covering him while hands not his own worked him was exquisite. He groaned, a long, drawn out and guttural sound as he rode a wave of pleasure. He couldn’t help thrusting up into Rodney’s hand as the tension built.
Against his ear now, Rodney’s voice was raspy as he coaxed, “Let go, John, I want to watch you let go.” John opened his eyes to see Rodney watching him intently as he hung over him, his eyes glazed and a little wild with lust. “Let go for me.” That was all it took, he was that close to the edge when Rodney asked him again. Every muscle in his body clenched as he came, pouring into Rodney’s hand as McKay whispered more nonsense and encouragement and praise at him.
When he could keep a straight thought in his head again, John looked up at Rodney, still holding himself over him, staring at him with a little bit of wonder in his eyes. “That was… wow.”
John pushed up onto his elbows and kissed him, pushing his tongue between Rodney’s lips and exploring his mouth a little bit. He felt the slide of McKay’s sleep pants against his legs and realized McKay was still clothed. “You’ve still got your pants on.” John remarked, turning the deep kiss into a series of small sucking kisses along Rodney’s lower lip and across his cheek.
”Yes, well, I was a bit distracted. It isn’t every day I get to see John Sheppard go to pieces in my arms. I was enjoying my moment.”
“Did I go to pieces?” John’s voice went up a bit in the middle of the question.
“Oh, yeah. A million little pieces. It was gorgeous.” Rodney dipped his head and licked a stripe along John’s collarbone.
Wrapping his arms firmly around Rodney’s back, and sliding one knee up to get a little extra leverage, John moved suddenly, flipping them over so that Rodney was now on his back, blinking up in surprise at the sudden and unexpected change in positions. “Your turn,” John chuckled.
He sucked on each of Rodney’s nipples for a moment, but only spared a moment. Rodney’s reaction to that told him that was an area of play best left to explore another time. He moved to the foot of the bed, drawing Rodney’s drawstring sleep pants off as he moved. “Going commando?” John asked teasingly as he saw Rodney wasn’t wearing briefs or boxers.
“I was expecting company.” Rodney replied smugly as he watched John moving over him. He reached out with one hand and ran his fingers through John’s hair, playfully messing at it. He pulled a face when he found that he couldn’t actually make it look any messier than it usually did. But John’s hair was just as soft as Rodney had imagined it would be, should he ever have had occasion to touch it.
Taking Rodney’s cock in hand, John smirked at him. “You were expecting company, huh?
“Sure, if you didn’t come in here, I was going to crash your room and seduce you. I try to be prepared for every eventual… ayeieee!”
Who knew that a blow job was the best way to silence Rodney McKay?
“Do you want me to go back to my room?” John mumbled a little while later from where he was curled with his face pressed into Rodney’s hip. Rodney was caressing his back in small circles, dragging his fingernails lightly across his lover’s skin. His lover. John was his lover, now. Now, and he hoped he remained so.
He smiled down at the unexpected boon life had handed him and rubbed John’s head. “Not if you don’t want to.”
“Are you going to snore?” John asked, lazily rolling over and peering up at Rodney.
“You know I’m going to snore, we’ve shared enough tents offworld.”
“Yeah, I know. And for the record, that was torture. I almost jumped you a hundred times.” Wriggling up the mattress, John pushed at Rodney so that he was lying on his side and then curled up around him, spoon-like.
“I wish you had,” Rodney mumbled wistfully and snuggled his face into his pillow.
“So do I, buddy. So do I.” John agreed and kissed a spot behind Rodney’s ear. “Good night, Rodney.”
Continued in part 2.
Wordcount: 12,608
Rating: R/NC-17
Pairing: McShep
Summary: John Sheppard goes west to help an old friend.
Warning(s): none
Notes: I took advantage of the spoilers Joe Mallozzi recently posted about Stargate: Extinction for the status of Atlantis. A big giant thank you to my betas, fairjennet the comma wrangler and kyaraelf the ever vigilant
Companion piece to Into the West.
Into the West
To: JSheppard.USAF.gov
Fr: DSheppard.SheppardIndustries.net
Subject: Double K Bar Ranch
Do you ever answer your email, John? This is the third one in two weeks that I’m sending.
I know you said you didn’t want anything to do with the business, I understand and respect that. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t bother you with this, but I think this particular problem might be of interest to you, and it is something I prefer we handled between us instead of involving strangers. The ranch was always more of a personal interest to Dad than part of the business, and I have a lot of happy memories about the place.
I’m not sure if you heard the news or got my previous messages, since you didn’t answer. Steven Kilkenny, the foreman out at the Double K Bar, passed away a few months ago of a heart attack. Anna Beth has been handling things as best as she knows how, trying to cover her father’s duties until we can hire a new foreman. Though she’s too stubborn to admit it, I can read between the lines of her emails. She’s having a rough time, John. Anna Beth is an excellent horse trainer, but the day to day administration is something she neither wanted nor was she prepared to take on. She was a friend to us both when we were kids. I’m stuck at the London office and cannot possibly get to Wyoming before the drive that’s scheduled for the 18th.
You said if I needed help to ask. I’m asking, John. On behalf of Anna Beth Kilkenny, if there is any possible way for you to get your ass out to Wyoming, please do so.
I’ve forwarded the emails Anna Beth and I have been exchanging. Also, sending the last year’s worth of financial documents from the ranch, and the information pertaining to the contract the Double K Bar has for this upcoming drive on the 18th. I sincerely doubt that you’ve forgotten how to do an analysis, nor how to sit a horse and run a drive, surely the Air Force hasn’t drummed everything Dad taught us out of you.
Answer me this time.
Dave
To: DSheppard.SheppardIndustries.net
Fr: JSheppard.USAF.gov
Re: Double K Bar Ranch
I’ll take care of it.
John
~*~
Moving Atlantis to the moon was probably the best solution to the security issues involved with keeping her on Earth. At least, that was Sheppard’s opinion. Even just the short time the city had rested in San Francisco harbor had been stressful and a logistics nightmare for Homeworld Security. The Earth media was more tenacious than an Iratus bug once they got hold of a story, and since the IOA and SGC were in no way ready to take the Stargate program public, removing Atlantis from the premises seemed the prudent thing to do.
After touching down softly at the City’s new temporary home slightly to the west of the original Apollo 11 landing site, Sheppard disengaged the control chair and slid off. He gave a nod to the technicians that had stayed in the Chair Room and then followed McKay out into the corridor.
Teyla and Ronon were waiting. Ronon pushed away from the wall where he had been leaning and fell into step with his teammates.
“Well, that’s that, boys and girls. Now we wait for word to go home while the suits fight it out.” John clapped his hands and infused the statement with as much false cheer as he could muster. They had all wanted to make the return trip to Pegasus, not park on the moon.
“Movie night tonight?” Ronon asked hopefully. “Amelia got the whole Harry Potter series on DVD; she wants to have a marathon.”
Nodding, Teyla said, “I would like to see those again, I will attend.”
“I’m in. I’ve got nothing better to do.” Rodney shrugged his shoulders. He’d been miserable since they had landed on Earth and a disastrous visit to Keller’s father had put the kibosh on the fledgling romance between the two doctors. In an effort to put as much distance between them, Jennifer had taken a permanent position at Stargate Command medical. If and when Atlantis returned to Pegasus, it would be with a new CMO. He turned to John. “You bring the popcorn, Sheppard.”
John stopped and turned to face his teammates, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking on his heels as he said, “I won’t be able to. You guys have fun. I’m heading back to Earth; I have a lot of leave time to burn.”
“You’re leaving?” McKay looked insulted at the thought.
“That’s why they call it leave, Rodney. I leave the base, take myself elsewhere.” Sheppard tossed Ronon and Teyla an apologetic look and then turned to head to his quarters to gather his gear. He had gotten used to the idea of McKay and Keller; he’d managed to develop a mask and method of dealing with that. But now, McKay was unattached again, and John was out of the habit of dealing with Rodney and all the feelings the scientist stirred up in him. He wanted to put distance between them, it was easier that way. In this, he and Keller had something else in common.
He didn’t get far before he heard McKay’s quick footsteps behind him, and felt a warm hand land on his shoulder. “Where are you going?”
With a heavy and put-upon sigh John replied, “Earth. Leave.” McKay was touching him. John had to force himself not to lean into the touch, though he wanted to, he really wanted to.
“Why do you do that? Are you mad at me for something?”
“Do what?”
McKay might not have the best people skills, but that didn’t mean he missed everything. And five years of interpreting John Sheppard gave him an edge others did not have. He knew something was wrong. “Push me away. You’ve been weird and pissy ever since I told you about Jen and me breaking up. What’s your problem?”
The hand was still on his shoulder. John could feel the warmth radiating through his t-shirt. He shook his head in denial. “I don’t have a problem, Rodney; I just have a lot on my mind. And now I’m going to have a break and relax and get over some of it.”
“Get over some of what? That implies that you do have a problem.”
The temptation to spill everything was too strong. He valued McKay’s friendship; he knew telling him about his big gay crush would wreck that. Straight guys got weird about it. No matter what they said or what their intentions might be to not let it be weird, knowing always changed things. That was why John kept his secrets, it was better that way. “I’ve been under a lot of stress, Rodney, we all have. I’m sorry if I’ve been a jerk. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
“Yeah, well, okay.” McKay gave him a small smile, patted his shoulder and withdrew his hand. “So, where are you going on your vacation?”
“Jackson Hole, Wyoming.”
Rodney titled his head and said, “Huh. There’s a big park there, right? Doing some climbing?”
“Not this trip. I’ve got to take care of some family business; I won’t have much time to do any hiking or climbing. Just a lot of riding, actually.” He started walking towards his quarters again, intent on packing and getting as far away from Rodney as he could. The fresh air and open space would do him good, would let him clear his mind. After five years, he wasn’t stupid enough to think he’d ever get over this crush, but time apart usually gave him a chance to get his defense mechanisms firmly in place so that he could function around Rodney and behave like the best friend he tried to be. It was the best he could hope for and he would do anything to protect that link between them. “See ya, Rodney.”
He thought McKay was going to let it drop, but no. The scientist ran after him and put himself in John’s path. “You said Dave was handing all the family business stuff these days.”
“Dave can’t deal with this right now. He asked me to see to it.” John tried to edge past him, but Rodney was having none of the usual evasive maneuvers.
“What the hell is in Wyoming?”
“A ranch. A horse ranch. It’s been in the family for generations. Our foreman died and things are in a twist and Dave asked me to go out there and see what I could do. There’s a herd of horses that has to be rounded up and driven to market.”
And then McKay did something that utterly shocked Sheppard, as it was unexpected and completely out of character. He blurted out, “I’ll go with you.”
John shook his head. “This is a working vacation, at a horse ranch, Rodney.”
Crossing his arms, Rodney snapped, “I heard you the first time. I want to go.”
“Why?” John peered at him suspiciously.
Waving a hand around to take in the city, Rodney shrugged and answered casually, “I need a break too.”
This was not going according to plan. McKay going with him to Wyoming was going to have the opposite of the effect John was striving to accomplish. There would be no peace of mind, no emotional distancing, no relief from the daily torture of watching Rodney’s hands or hanging on every snarky word he hurled at one of his minions. It would be day in and day out with Rodney.
“Okay.” What the hell was the matter with him? Was he possessed or something? Did he just agree to drag the biggest whiner in Atlantis to Wyoming to drive horses?
One of the perks of being a majority shareholder and the brother of the CFO of Sheppard Industries was that John had access to the company air fleet. That included a helicopter, which he happily commandeered, saving them a long ride by pickup truck from the airport to the ranch. John couldn’t resist pulling a few aerial maneuvers when they got out over the wide open spaces of Wyoming. He expected McKay to squeal and complain, but his passenger sat there placidly in his seat, alternately admiring the scenery or napping. John didn’t know how McKay managed that; the irregular vibrations of the chopper would have kept him awake.
“You’ve been coming here for a long time?” McKay asked over the helmet mic.
“Yeah, Dave and I spent at least part of the summer out here every year. I made it almost every year until I joined the Air Force, and then whenever I was on furlough.”
“It’s big. There’s so much space.” Rodney stared out at the wide expanse of blue sky. It seemed to go on forever. John loved flying out here even more than he loved riding, and riding out here was one of his life’s greatest pleasures. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. He had three things he loved available to fill his time out here; the chopper, the horses and Rodney. He’d just have to find some new ways of coping with Rodney.
John landed the helicopter in a field not far from the sprawling two-level ranch house. “That’s not a ranch house, Sheppard. That’s a mansion. A ranch house is a little dinky, rustic thing with a big front porch and rocking chairs.”
“There’s a veranda off the back, behind the kitchen. There’s no rockers that I remember, but there used to be a porch swing, will that do?”
“Ronon implied you were rich, I thought it was just his Pegasus comparison and social misinterpretation of the situation.”
Sheppard shrugged, money wasn’t very important to him, it never had been. He appreciated the things it had allowed him to have in his life, but if it all disappeared tomorrow, he would be fine with that. Other things were more important. He watched Rodney take in the outbuildings and the main house and smiled at the relief he read there. McKay must have been anticipating roughing it.
“Well, come on, I’m sure they heard us.” He pulled off his helmet, dropped it in back of the seat and climbed down. Gathering his bags, he waited for Rodney to do the same and then started walking towards the house.
“I expected there to be more people around.” Rodney had his SGC issued backpack on and a duffel in one hand. His ever-present laptop was nestled in a case that was slung over one shoulder.
“The day to day running of the place doesn’t take many people, when there’s a cattle drive or haying to be done, we hire out for seasonal help. I suspect the majority of the hands are out trying to round up the mares that have to be taken to Salt Lake City.”
“Why Salt Lake City?”
“The train is there. We take the horses there and get them loaded on a cattle car and then they’re off to the buyers, who will meet them on the other end and take care of transporting them where they need to go.”
Rodney was staring at the woman approaching them at a run as he said, “It sounds simple.”
“It isn’t too bad. I think Dave just wanted me to hook up with Anna Beth again.” John dropped his bags and opened his arms to catch the petite redhead that flew at him. He laughed and swung her around.
Rodney had never seen John Sheppard so open with anyone in all the time he had known him. A surge of jealousy swept over him as he watched him hug and kiss the pretty little woman in his arms. There was history there; it was easy enough for Rodney to see it.
He finally put the woman down onto her feet and turned her towards Rodney, dropping an arm around her shoulders. “Anna Beth Kilkenny, this is my good friend, Rodney McKay. Rodney, this is Anna Beth, she’s family.”
Rodney held out a hand and shook the small, calloused and strong hand she offered as she met his eyes. “Welcome to the Double K Bar, Mister McKay.”
“Doctor, actually, but call me Rodney, I’m on vacation.” He wanted to hate her, this little woman that had a place in Sheppard’s heart. But he couldn’t, there was something in her face, in her eyes, that made him feel truly welcome. It wasn’t often that people welcomed his arrival.
“Rodney, then.” She smiled and released his hand, and McKay felt that his measure had just been taken in some way when she tilted her head and nodded. “You boys must be beat. That is no short hop from Colorado Springs. Come on up to the house, we’ll get you settled in and then get some grub into ya.”
“You have no idea.” McKay muttered in response to her remark about the trip. They had been on the moon only a few short hours ago. He followed John and Anna Beth, who were chattering about mutual acquaintances, changes Sheppard noticed about the ranch, and how the weather was likely to affect their plans for the week.
Observing, Rodney was again struck by the differences in his friend out here. There was no tension in his posture; his shoulders were loose as he loped along beside the redhead with her double quick stride. He was talking, too. Not the usual rationing of words McKay had come to expect from Sheppard, but ‘normal people’ style talking.
It made his heart clench to see it, to know that someone could bring all that out of John, someone that wasn’t him. Coming here had been a mistake, and now he was stuck with the consequences. He was going to have to spend the next three weeks in the middle of Nowhere, God’s Country with the object of his misplaced affections while said object fawned over someone else. He should have thought this out more, but when Sheppard had said he was leaving, just when Rodney realized that he needed him around, that he wanted the company of his best friend while he got over his annoyance about Jennifer, he had impulsively invited himself on this trip.
He should have bowed out. And now he was stuck. He knew Sheppard was completely straight, he’d accepted it years ago, grown quite used to the idea that he’d never get the hot pilot in his bed. He had covered his infatuation with teasing each time Sheppard had flashed the come-hither smile at a chieftain’s daughter or visiting diplomat. It didn’t hurt anywhere near as much as it used to. But he hadn’t counted on one of Sheppard’s old flames being present. A realization hit him, and an explanation for Sheppard’s lack of commitment or actual involvement with anyone on Atlantis during the time Rodney had known him. All this time, he’d had this Anna Beth waiting back at the ranch.
Rodney cursed himself for three kinds of fool and stomped up the stairs to the house.
It was a mansion, as far as Rodney was concerned. He’d grown up in the suburbs, in a cozy middle class house that was like every other house on the block. McKay dropped his bags on the queen-sized bed in guest room and gave a heavy sigh. What had he gotten himself into?
There was a knock on the door, and Sheppard’s spiky head poked in when he called out, “Come in!” Sheppard smiled and edged his way into the room.
“I see she put you in Dave’s room. I’m right across the hall.” John crossed to the window and parted the lace curtains to look down across the property. “We used to climb out this window and shimmy down the tree there to sneak into town after my grandparents went to bed.”
Something about the memory made John smile, one of his real smiles, not one of the ones he put on for work. It made Rodney’s heart clench again to see it. He did not mean to say it but the observation in his head slipped off his tongue, “You love it here.”
John nodded and leaned back against the wall beside the window, casting occasional glances outside. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. I always figured if I live long enough, I’ll retire out here. Dave knows it. We’re opposites on this one. He hates being out here on the ranch as much as I love it. The only thing he ever really liked was the horses. He and our grandfather didn’t get along.”
More honesty and revelation than McKay would have gotten out of John in a month on Atlantis. Maybe it was Wyoming that had loosened his friend’s tongue.
“I should have asked sooner, do you ride, McKay?”
Rodney puffed out his chest. “As a matter of fact, I do. I had lessons as a boy, until my father’s grant ended and the money ran out and there weren’t any more piano lessons or ballet lessons or horseback riding lessons for Jeannie or me. I always liked horses.”
Oh, damn it. John was doing the puppy-dog head tilt thing that had always charmed Rodney. When John did that, though he didn’t know it, Rodney would agree to anything he asked or suggested, Rodney was helpless against that particular look.
“I didn’t know that about you.” John said, a bit of sadness in his voice. “I guess I was pretty lucky, I got to ride whenever I wanted, we had horses at every one of the houses. Well, I’ll let you unpack. Anna Beth said chow is on in an hour.” John licked his lips in anticipation and said, “Fried chicken, corn on the cob and the fluffiest biscuits you’ve ever had.”
“Foodgasm.” Rodney quipped, looking forward to the meal with relish now.
“Yeah. Cook is the best in three counties, my Dad saw to that. I’m gonna hit the shower, see ya in a while.” John waved and left the room.
Rodney groaned loudly and flopped backwards onto the bed, his mind now completely overtaken by the thought of John, naked, wet and soapy just across the hall. This had been a horrible, horrible idea, coming to Wyoming.
Dinner was delicious. Rodney stuffed himself full on the country style spread laid before him. The biscuits were his particular favorite, especially after John reached over, clasped his hand, took the flaky bit of heaven and slathered it with honey over the butter Rodney had already spread on it. Downing more food than McKay ever remembered seeing his friend eat in one sitting, John chatted with the ranch hands that came to eat at the wide kitchen table; some of them slapped his shoulder heartily, welcoming him home.
Anna Beth was watching John with an odd look on her face, which Rodney tried to ignore. It was probably anticipation of a romantic interlude somewhere with Sheppard. McKay shook his head to clear the thought away and snatched another biscuit from the basket in front of him. The niggling reminder that food was not to be used as a substitute for sex crept into his mind, but he shoved it aside; these biscuits were damned good, and he was certainly not getting any of what Anna Beth was eyeing tonight.
Still operating on Atlantis time, John was not quite ready to turn in, though most of the early risers on the ranch had long since done so. He went to the closet in his room and pulled out the guitar he kept there. He carried it down through the kitchen to the veranda and sat down on the step. It didn’t take him long to tune the instrument. He leaned back against the support post and lightly picked out a tune, one of George Strait’s. The Double K always brought out John’s country music tendencies, something he rarely admitted he even had.
“I’ve never heard you actually play. I thought the guitar in your quarters was some weird affectation.” Rodney stood just inside the screen door, and had waited for John to finish playing the song before he had made his observation. He pushed the door open and came outside, standing not far from where John sat.
John shrugged. “I play. I just play for me, though.”
“I can go. Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude, I couldn’t sleep.” Rodney turned to go back inside.
“You’re not intruding. I couldn’t sleep either. The cushion on the swing is pretty comfy, if my noise won’t bother you.”
John saw Rodney’s smile in the dim orange light from the wall sconce beside the kitchen door. McKay moved across the porch and dropped down onto the swing, setting it in motion.
His fingers on the frets, John began to strum another song. McKay was quiet for most of it, though John did not, could not forget he was sitting there behind him. His voice quietly asked, “Are there words to that one?”
With a snort, John warned him, “I don’t think you want me to sing, McKay.”
“Go ahead, there’s only the two of us,” Rodney coaxed. “I promise not to mock; I swear it on Schrödinger’s cat.”
“Well since you swore on the cat.” John conceded, and began to strum the song again, one of his favorites by Garth Brooks. He sang quietly, looking down at his feet in the semi-darkness until he got to the last verse and happened to look up and see Rodney staring at him. He stuttered for a moment, losing his place, but found it quickly again and sang;
So when you see that cowboy he's not ragged by his choice
He never meant to bow them legs or put that gravel in his voice
He's just chasin' what he really loves and what's burning in his soul
Wishin' to God that he'd been born and hundred years ago…
He finished the song and cleared his throat self consciously, his eyes still on Rodney.
“Don’t stop,” Rodney whispered.
“Song’s over,” John whispered back.
Rodney smiled. “Sing another one.”
They passed a companionable hour, John strumming and picking on the guitar and going through most of his cowboy song repertoire. He had expected McKay to deride the music style, since he was a professed classical music aficionado, but Rodney was actually an excellent audience, the most receptive John had ever played to. Well, the only one John had ever played to, so that made him the automatic best.
Tonight was a good memory, John thought as he carried his guitar upstairs, one he would hold onto for when the bad times came and he needed a calm place to retreat into. He bid Rodney goodnight in the hallway, wishing that things were different and that they were not going to separate rooms and separate beds.
The yard was a riot of noise the next morning when Rodney followed John to the stables. He deliberately walked numerous steps behind his friend, because, hey, tight Levis. He’d always thought Sheppard did not have an ass, but the tight jeans proved that assumption wrong. This was going to be a very, very long day. Rodney paused and tugged the leg of his own jeans down a bit and gave a wriggle to adjust the tight discomfort his wandering thoughts about Sheppard’s ass were causing.
“Good morning Johnny, Rodney!” Anna Beth kissed John’s cheek and gave Rodney a wide, toothy smile as they approached.
Unable to resist the open and honest smile, Rodney gave her one of his own. “Good morning, Anna Beth.”
Leading them into the barn and tugging her leather gloves off to tuck them into her belt, she asked, “Ever done a round up before, Rodney?”
“I can honestly say no.” He adjusted the wide brimmed suede hat John had retrieved from a closet in the bedroom and dropped onto his head this morning. He liked it, it was a little cool, in a cowboy cool kinda way. The black hat and black cowboy boots Sheppard wore made him look like he’d just stepped out of an ad for Stetson, and the way he moved in those Levis was like watching live porn.
“Well, the boys will tell you what to do. Stick close to Johnny, he knows the routine. Just keep your seat.” Anna Beth snickered and looked over at John. “Do you remember the time Davey slid off old Patsy’s back right into the Snake?”
The pair shared a laugh and Rodney looked at them in confusion. “His brother fell on a snake?”
“Into the Snake, McKay. The Snake River, he wasn’t hurt, just got a little messy.”
John smirked as Anna Beth added, “Messy? He was madder than a wet hen!”
Ignoring the twinge of jealousy over the shared memory, Rodney looked along the row of stalls. “Which horse shall I ride?”
Sobering up and getting back to business, since they had a yard full of ranch hands waiting, Anna Beth pointed to two different stalls. “There’s Tuna, and there’s Mac, I’d recommend either of those ladies.”
“Tuna and Mac?” John’s eyebrow went up as he repeated the names.
“Cook’s granddaughter named them; she was going through a food obsession phase at the time. Still is, she went off to culinary school.”
Rodney wandered over to stroke the silky nose of the horse named Mac. “So Mac is short for?”
Anna Beth gave him a bemused look as she answered, “Yes, macaroni and cheese.”
“Oh, you poor thing, named for a casserole. That is almost as bad as Meredith. We must be kindred sprits, old girl.” He patted the mare’s nose and looked around the stall for her tack. Glancing back over his shoulder he told Anna Beth, “I’ll take Mac.”
He remembered the steps, though it had been many years since he had saddled a horse. It had been part of the routine, and his muscle memory kicked in and he quickly fell into what he needed to do. He was just pulling the cinch tight around Mac’s tummy when John clomped up on his own horse to stand outside the stall, peering in and watching Rodney with a look of approval.
“And I was worried,” Sheppard drawled, “As usual; you know what you’re doing. Meet you outside.” He clucked his tongue and left the stable.
The ride out to the high pastures where the mares they needed to collect had free range was quite pleasant. The day wasn’t overly chilly; Rodney was able to shuck his jacket and ride in just his long sleeved shirt and the leather vest Sheppard had tossed him from Dave’s closet. Sheppard was also in his shirtsleeves; his long duster was folded and tucked behind his saddle. Sheppard walking in those indecently tight jeans was distracting; but riding, with his thighs gripping the horses flank, and his butt tilting slightly from side to side with the motion of the saddle was causing Rodney physical pain.
Until they reached the mares, the ride was not all that different than Rodney remembered from his childhood lessons. But then they broke into a canter and then a full gallop when they spotted their quarry, and Rodney was certain he echoed Sheppard’s whoop of delight as he raced after his friend. The wind was rushing in his face and he could feel the power and the strength of the mare beneath him as she ran. This was intoxicating, this feeling of being one with the horse, moving as a single entity across the grass of the meadow.
“Go that way, circle around.” John shouted over his shoulder as he waved Rodney to the left. He remembered that John had mentioned they needed to keep between the mares and the small narrow canyon that led to a larger pasture further north. If they went up there, it would take them a lot longer to round them up. Rodney saw the boulders that John had said marked the entrance to the canyon. He tugged his reins and guided Mac in that direction, intent on putting himself between the mares and their bolt hole.
Roping the mares was not something he intended to try. He knew his limitations. He had a lasso on his saddle, but he would only attempt to use it if absolutely necessary. He didn’t intend to embarrass himself, not in front of John and certainly not in front of John’s girl.
With a short break for lunch, the small team of wranglers set to work. The roundup went well. There were not that many horses to gather, only fifteen. The mares didn’t seem too overly keen on getting away, and only one earned the nickname of Houdini, so they were able to accomplish their goal without too much trouble. Rodney did end up pulling his lasso and made several attempts to toss the rope to catch a particularly feisty little white mare. Eventually, working in tandem with John, he did lasso the horse, which delighted him so much he burst into giggles. Manly giggles, but giggles nonetheless. That earned him an odd and somewhat affectionate look from Sheppard before he had spun away and cantered off to chase more horses. They had the string in motion on the way back down to the holding pens at the ranch long before sunset.
“You did good out there today, Rodney. Thanks for pitching in.” Anna Beth said as they rode up to the stable. “I had my doubts about a city slicker joining us, but you proved me wrong. You have a fine seat.” She whacked him on the shoulder and dismounted.
“He certainly does.” Sheppard remarked with a glance as he walked past, leading his horse by the reins. Had Sheppard just checked out his ass?
This was not working. He was deeper in emotional turmoil over Rodney than he had been back on Atlantis. He had thought when he agreed to have Rodney accompany him out here that the boisterous scientist would spend the entire time bitching and complaining about this place. Since John loved the place so much, that it would annoy the crud out of him. If he was annoyed at Rodney, that would help him regain his distance.
But it wasn’t happening that way at all. McKay was having fun; in fact John had never seen him so happy and relaxed. Not one complaint had passed his friend’s lips.
He took another cold shower and dragged on his clothes. He scooped up his hat and coat and headed for the back door. He needed to walk. Once outside in the twilight, he shoved his arms into the sleeves of the duster and forced his hat down over his head. He buried his hands in the coat pocket and set off at a half-march half-stomp.
Not paying attention to where he was going, he stomped past the stable and onto the worn riding track that ran alongside it.
“Hey! Where you going?” John could have screamed in frustration as he heard Rodney’s call.
Angry, since it was Rodney he was trying to walk away from, he spun on his heel and glared at his friend as McKay ran to catch up to him. As Rodney got closer, he must have seen the emotion on John’s face. His steps faltered and he stopped, looking unsure. “Is something wrong?”
“Yes! No. Forget it. I just needed to take a walk.” John turned away.
Rodney could move fast when he wanted to. He closed the distance between them and grabbed John’s arm, forcing him to stop. “You’re pissed at me again. What did I do?”
John yanked his arm out of Rodney’s grasp, and backpedaled a few steps to get away. He saw the hurt come onto Rodney’s face and the anger and frustration melted at the sight. He caused that. He had directly caused that pain. “I’m sorry Rodney. I’m so, so sorry. It isn’t you. It’s me, it’s my stupid ass problem and I shouldn’t be blaming you for it.” He dropped his chin to his chest and stared at his feet. “Some friend I am.”
“You’re my best friend,” Rodney said in the silence. “I don’t know why you even put up with me, why you bother to hang out with me.”
There was such honest bewilderment in McKay’s voice that John was forced to look up. The miserable look on Rodney’s face made his heart thump painfully. His feet moved of their own accord, bringing him closer to his friend. His best friend. “I’m sorry, Rodney. It isn’t you, it’s me. I don’t want to ruin this. You’re too important to me for me to ruin it. And I’m wrecking it.”
He never expected to be standing behind a barn in Wyoming having a deep discussion about friendship and feelings with John Sheppard. He had spent the last five years going out of his way to avoid this kind of conversation with this particular man. Something was wrong here, Rodney couldn’t put his finger on it, but something was wrong, and he sensed that it was the kind of wrong that could turn into a relationship breaker.
“How are you wrecking it? What have you done? Sure, you’re being a little cranky, but I hardly think that’s a disaster, Sheppard.” He tried to keep his tone light, he needed to keep Sheppard talking, keep gathering clues and evidence so he could piece this puzzle together.
“I can’t do this anymore,” Sheppard whispered, and it sounded to Rodney like he was on the verge of tears.
Rodney moved closer, trying to see up under the edge of John’s cowboy hat, which had been sexy as hell earlier but was now an annoyance as it masked his friend’s face. It hid the eyes he needed to see to interpret the Sheppardism that was going on here. “Do what anymore?”
For a minute, Rodney thought John wasn’t going to answer him, but then he turned his head and looked straight into Rodney’s eyes and said, “Pretend that this is less than it is.”
He had wanted to see his eyes. And what he saw there hit him like a physical blow. No masks, no hiding, no pretending, John was being completely honest. If Rodney was reading this correctly, the knowledge of what Sheppard felt was staggering.
“God damn,” Rodney said as he exhaled.
Without a word, John turned and bolted, leaving Rodney standing there in complete confusion, trying to process what he had just learned about his best friend. Events over the past five years ran through his mind. He considered looks and conversations, meals and arguments, words and stares, putting them through a new filter, applying a new hypothesis to their shared history.
John Sheppard loved him.
His straight best friend was in love with him. Rodney smiled, his heart warming with the knowledge. Maybe coming to Wyoming had not been such a mistake after all.
He let John run off to have his straight freak out on his own. He knew where the man was sleeping; he’d talk to him later. He turned back towards the house and started to formulate a plan of attack. He wanted John and intended to have him, now that he knew what he knew. He just had to make John understand he felt the same way.
John ran until his heart felt like it was going to burst in his chest, and his feet hurt too much to go another step. Cowboy boots were not made for cross country running, by any stretch of the imagination. He bent almost double, hands on his knees, panting.
He swiped angrily at the damned tears that were leaking out of his eyes. Crying. He was crying over Rodney McKay. He’d wrecked everything. In a moment of insane weakness, he had dropped the façade, and Rodney, perceptive, clever Rodney had figured him out in an instant.
This was a disaster. How could he face his friend again? Would Rodney even still want him as a friend?
He tried to figure out where he was, he had not been paying attention to his path. And it would be full dark soon. He was twice a fool, running out here, unarmed, with no one aware where he had gone. It would serve him right if a Grizzly killed him and a coyote gnawed his face off, both dire warnings often invoked by his grandfather against just this sort of rash behavior.
The house should be to the south, so he turned and started walking in that direction, his ears tuned for noise. He heard the horse and rider long before he saw the dark shadow approaching. “You okay Johnny?”
Anna Beth.
“How’d you know where I was?”
“I was working with one of the fillies in the training pen; you shot by me like the hounds of hell were on your ass. I know you, and figured you’d just keep running in a straight line, and you did.” She dismounted and walked over to him, and in the light from the moon, he could clearly see that she was concerned for him.
“I’m that predictable?”
“To them that know ya, yeah. What’s wrong, Johnny, lover’s spat?”
“What? No! We’re not… Rodney isn’t my… no.” John sputtered in denial.
“That Don’t Ask thing is long gone, Johnny. Why you still hidin’ when it don’t matter no more?”
He reached out to rub the horse’s neck, taking comfort in the warmth beneath his fingers. “It isn’t so easy.”
“Why? It’s obvious to any darn fool that looks at the pair of you that you got deep feelings for each other.” Anna Beth crossed her arms and glared at him in the dim light.
“It isn’t like that. He’s not… he doesn’t care about me like that. And now he’s going to get all weird because he figured me out. I think I just lost my best friend, Anna.”
She patted his arm. “Did he say that? What did he say about it, Johnny?”
“Nothing.”
“So, you spilled your guts, and he didn’t say a blessed thing?”
John kicked at the dirt with the toe of his boot and admitted sheepishly, “I sort of took off before he had a chance to say anything.”
“Typical. You will never change, Johnny Sheppard. Get your ass up on that horse.” She pointed and gave him a shove when he didn’t move.
“I can’t face him yet. Just give me a little more time.” He protested, not moving despite her repeated shoves.
She shook her head, sending her red curls flying in all directions. “Oh, no. You strike now, while the iron is hot, before you go putting up all those Sheppard walls you’re so good at and hiding this all away again. Get it out in the open and deal with it, Johnny.”
Rodney heard John come in; he had been listening for the footfalls on the stairs. Quickly ending his chat conversation with Zelenka, he put his laptop aside and slid off the bed, padding quietly over to the door and opening it a crack to peer out. John looked completely and totally miserable, his shoulders slumped, head down, even his hair looked limp. His hat and coat dangled from his hand, the duster dragging the floor as he moved along the hallway.
“Hey,” Rodney called as he opened the door fully. He’d startled John, the soldier jumped as he looked up at Rodney, wariness on his face. “Come here?”
With a shuddering sigh, John nodded reluctantly and brushed past Rodney into his room. He dropped his coat on the chair in the corner and stood turning the brim of the hat in his hands and he stared at his boots.
“So, that was a bit of a hit and run out there earlier.” Rodney said casually as he moved closer to John.
“Yeah, sorry about that. I didn’t mean…”
Rodney snorted lightly. “I know, you didn’t mean to let me know. You would have kept this to yourself for another five years, maybe longer. Damn, you can keep a secret, and you are a much better actor than I ever gave you credit for, Colonel. And I’m a blind fool.”
He moved close enough to reach a hand out and cup John’s cheek, lightly forcing his face upwards. “We’re some pair.”
“I’m sorry, Rodney,” John whispered brokenly.
“Me too, for all the time we wasted.” Licking his lips to dampen them, Rodney surged forward and pressed a kiss to John’s lips, one hand still cupping his face, holding him there as Rodney lightly licked at John’s mouth, deepening the kiss when John opened to him. He pulled back after a minute, or five, he’d lost track, and stared into John’s startled eyes. “So much time wasted.”
John blinked a few times and then smiled. He tossed his hat to the side and reached up with both hands to clasp Rodney’s face and pull him in for another kiss, this one a bit more of a mutual effort, since he was now actively participating.
Pulling away, John said breathlessly, “I thought you were straight.”
“Not so much. I thought you were.”
“Not so much.” John laughed and kissed him again, more forcefully, with a bit more passion. He might have used his teeth, a little bit. Rodney’s hands were everywhere at once, running over John’s back, shoulders and tangling in his hair. John broke off sucking on Rodney’s lower lip and asked huskily, “So, would you think I was easy if I told you I want to sleep with you right now?”
Rodney cuffed him upside the head gently in response. “Easy? You are the furthest thing from easy I have ever met. Five years, John, it took me five years to figure out you were interested. That is not easy. That is the longest stretch of foreplay in the history of foreplay. If you don’t get your ass over there onto that bed I’m going to be pissed off and think you’re a cock tease.”
With a wide smile, John backed towards the bed, tugging on Rodney’s t-shirt to draw him along after. He stopped when the back of his knees hit the mattress and wrapped his arms around Rodney’s waist. He bent his head and the kiss he gave Rodney was sweet and almost chaste in comparison to their earlier kisses.
“I haven’t done this in a while, years, actually.” John confessed as Rodney slid his hands up under the hem of his shirt.
Caressing John’s belly with small circles before moving up to rub across his pecs, Rodney asked distractedly, “With a guy?”
“With anyone.”
“Oh, damn.” Rodney caught his lips in a rough kiss again, a little turned on by the revelation that his friend was not the Lothario Rodney had always imagined him to be. “Now that is a damned shame. We have to do something about this, now.” John laughed and yanked on Rodney’s shoulders, tumbling them both to the bed, Rodney sprawled out over him.
The new position allowed Rodney to simultaneously suck at a spot on John’s throat that seemed to be an erogenous zone - if the whimpering and whining it caused was any guide to go on - while grinding his erection against John’s hip.
John tugged at Rodney’s t-shirt, trying to get it off. Rodney had to break off sucking on John’s neck to allow the removal of the apparently offensive garment. John murmured his approval and began to stroke at Rodney’s chest, sides and back. He began to buck lightly up against Rodney, seeking friction of the kind Rodney had against his hip.
“Shh, easy. I’ll get you.” Rodney reached down between them and tugged at the buttons of John’s jeans. Once he had the fly open, he slid his hands along John’s sides and pushed at the waistband of his pants, catching both jeans and boxers and sliding them down in one motion. John raised his hips and let Rodney drag the pants down his thighs. He left them just above John’s knees and abandoned the action to take John’s hot pulsing cock in his hand. “See, I’ve got you.” Rodney whispered in reassurance as he began to touch John with long, careful, almost reverent strokes.
Sagging back against the mattress as Rodney slowly jerked him; John looked up and met his eyes. He didn’t have to look away this time; he didn’t have to hide his feelings. It was out. Rodney knew. The serious blue eyes of his scientist watched him intently as he worked John, stroked him, caressed his cock as he pulled and released, pulled and twisted.
“Never thought, never imagined I’d ever see you like this.” Rodney whispered “God, you are so…”
John tossed his head, reveling in the pleasure Rodney was pulling out of him. Having Rodney’s weight pressed into him, the warmth of another human being covering him while hands not his own worked him was exquisite. He groaned, a long, drawn out and guttural sound as he rode a wave of pleasure. He couldn’t help thrusting up into Rodney’s hand as the tension built.
Against his ear now, Rodney’s voice was raspy as he coaxed, “Let go, John, I want to watch you let go.” John opened his eyes to see Rodney watching him intently as he hung over him, his eyes glazed and a little wild with lust. “Let go for me.” That was all it took, he was that close to the edge when Rodney asked him again. Every muscle in his body clenched as he came, pouring into Rodney’s hand as McKay whispered more nonsense and encouragement and praise at him.
When he could keep a straight thought in his head again, John looked up at Rodney, still holding himself over him, staring at him with a little bit of wonder in his eyes. “That was… wow.”
John pushed up onto his elbows and kissed him, pushing his tongue between Rodney’s lips and exploring his mouth a little bit. He felt the slide of McKay’s sleep pants against his legs and realized McKay was still clothed. “You’ve still got your pants on.” John remarked, turning the deep kiss into a series of small sucking kisses along Rodney’s lower lip and across his cheek.
”Yes, well, I was a bit distracted. It isn’t every day I get to see John Sheppard go to pieces in my arms. I was enjoying my moment.”
“Did I go to pieces?” John’s voice went up a bit in the middle of the question.
“Oh, yeah. A million little pieces. It was gorgeous.” Rodney dipped his head and licked a stripe along John’s collarbone.
Wrapping his arms firmly around Rodney’s back, and sliding one knee up to get a little extra leverage, John moved suddenly, flipping them over so that Rodney was now on his back, blinking up in surprise at the sudden and unexpected change in positions. “Your turn,” John chuckled.
He sucked on each of Rodney’s nipples for a moment, but only spared a moment. Rodney’s reaction to that told him that was an area of play best left to explore another time. He moved to the foot of the bed, drawing Rodney’s drawstring sleep pants off as he moved. “Going commando?” John asked teasingly as he saw Rodney wasn’t wearing briefs or boxers.
“I was expecting company.” Rodney replied smugly as he watched John moving over him. He reached out with one hand and ran his fingers through John’s hair, playfully messing at it. He pulled a face when he found that he couldn’t actually make it look any messier than it usually did. But John’s hair was just as soft as Rodney had imagined it would be, should he ever have had occasion to touch it.
Taking Rodney’s cock in hand, John smirked at him. “You were expecting company, huh?
“Sure, if you didn’t come in here, I was going to crash your room and seduce you. I try to be prepared for every eventual… ayeieee!”
Who knew that a blow job was the best way to silence Rodney McKay?
“Do you want me to go back to my room?” John mumbled a little while later from where he was curled with his face pressed into Rodney’s hip. Rodney was caressing his back in small circles, dragging his fingernails lightly across his lover’s skin. His lover. John was his lover, now. Now, and he hoped he remained so.
He smiled down at the unexpected boon life had handed him and rubbed John’s head. “Not if you don’t want to.”
“Are you going to snore?” John asked, lazily rolling over and peering up at Rodney.
“You know I’m going to snore, we’ve shared enough tents offworld.”
“Yeah, I know. And for the record, that was torture. I almost jumped you a hundred times.” Wriggling up the mattress, John pushed at Rodney so that he was lying on his side and then curled up around him, spoon-like.
“I wish you had,” Rodney mumbled wistfully and snuggled his face into his pillow.
“So do I, buddy. So do I.” John agreed and kissed a spot behind Rodney’s ear. “Good night, Rodney.”
Continued in part 2.