SGA Fic: Broken Ties Tag
Jul. 30th, 2008 10:21 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
erdaTitle: Been There
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
keefaq
Word count: 1284
Episode Tag for 5.03 Broken Ties
Written for the Season 5 Tagathon at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
sga_episodefic
Summary: John just wants to avoid the whole subject.
He took the sword to Dex. That was all he could do for him. McKay sat with him hour after hour, no doubt filling the air with nonsense. Teyla visited him, too. Dex was getting better, and yeah, he wasn’t ever going to be his old self again, but he seemed okay. John didn’t ask. He was busy with all the stuff that went into keeping the city running. He knew Dex would get that he was busy. That was the cool thing about Dex, one of the cool things.
McKay was a different sort altogether.
“Hey, hey, hey! Stop right there, Colonel.” There was no way to get away from McKay. The bastard had no sense of privacy for himself and never recognized the need in others.
He tried anyway. “Really busy here, McKay, so make it quick.”
McKay gave him that little moue he used to cover up when his feelings got hurt.
“Yes, Colonel,” he said. “We’ve all noticed how very busy you are lately.”
John continued walking. If McKay wanted to lecture him he’d have to keep up. McKay grabbed his arm to slow him down and he felt his whole body go stiff with the struggle to curb his temper. He spun around suddenly, letting McKay see a little of what he was feeling, but McKay wouldn’t back off. Instead he mirrored John’s anger, actually giving his arm a little shake. “What is up with you?”
John glanced up and down the corridor. They were alone, outside John’s quarters, and John palmed open the door. He just wanted to get rid of McKay as quickly and quietly as he could. He spoke with exaggerated patience. “What is it you want, McKay?”
McKay let go of his arm and straightened up, said, fake casual, “I’m going to ask Ronon to get something to eat. Come with us.”
It was clearly not a request, but he declined anyway, shaking his head and backing up into his quarters dismissively. “Sorry.”
McKay crowded in on him again. “You’re not sorry,” he said angrily. “Don’t you have any feeling for what Ronon’s been going--”
His hand was on McKay’s chest before he could finish the question. He tried to shove him back into the corridor, but McKay was stronger than he looked, and stubborn. He wouldn’t back off. “What?” McKay had lost the angry look. John had to turn away from his intensity. “Talk to me, here. I don’t get it. Ronon thinks you’re disappointed in him or something.”
John couldn’t hold onto his anger when McKay looked at him like that, looked into him. “I know what he’s going through, okay? I know exactly how he feels. You just can’t get it McKay, because you haven’t been there.”
“I haven’t been there? What’s that supposed to mean? Of course I’ve been there. Just because you weren’t there to witness it, you’ve forgotten?”
John dropped into his desk chair but it was impossible to get any breathing room when McKay was after him. He’d stand too close to him no matter where John went. He noticed the door of the room had closed behind them, keeping them inside together. “I think I know better than you what Ronon’s going through,” McKay said. “You didn’t have to go through any withdrawal. I know everyone thought I was exaggerating, but now you can all see how bad it was.”
John dropped his head, not wanting to see McKay’s too perceptive eyes on him. “It’s not about pain,” he said. “It has nothing at all to do with pain.” He stopped pressing his fingertips to his temples, wished he could stop McKay as easily.
But McKay wouldn’t stop, he—Jesus—he knelt down in front of John, hands on John’s knees. John fixed his gaze over Rodney’s shoulder so he wouldn’t have to see the sympathy he knew was on Rodney’s face. “Yeah, the rush, I felt that, too,” Rodney said, still not getting it.
“Rodney,” John shook his head. “You did it to yourself,” he said. That was as close to an explanation as he could go.
He could tell the moment Rodney got it. He squeezed John’s knees lightly. It surprised him how gentle Rodney could be. “It’s physiology,” Rodney said, trying to give him an out from the revulsion this whole thing brought back.
He nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I know that.” It should be weirder, or ridiculous, having Rodney kneeling in front of him, touching him, exuding sympathy. Rodney was trying so hard, he was always so willing to put himself out there in a way John never could. He wanted to put his own hands onto Rodney, give something back. “I’m okay,” he said, and even though he felt a little shaky, it was part of the truth. He put his hands around the back of Rodney’s neck, rubbed along his hairline, and Rodney let him, even leaned into him a little.
Rodney was the one to break the mood, finally, getting up with a groan, his hand going to the small of his back. He grabbed John and pulled him up, too, and John let himself be shuffled against Rodney’s warm chest. He couldn’t help brushing his mouth against Rodney’s hair lightly, breathing in the scent of unadulterated Rodney. He never smelled of shampoo or soap, probably because he used unscented hypoallergenic everything. Rodney’s breath caught and he wrapped his arms around John’s back. It felt okay. It felt good, natural. John put his arms around Rodney’s neck and returned the hug. This was a different kind of pleasure, cleaner and a lot less complicated than it had always seemed in his imagination.
Rodney tried to lean away from him but John recklessly held on. Let Rodney make of it whatever he liked, he was going for broke. Rodney finally put his hand on John’s chest to force a space between them, trying to meet his eyes, but John averted his gaze. He thought Rodney'd have to be an idiot not to get it by now, but Rodney could be amazingly dense when it came to people's feelings. Just because John felt he was giving too much away didn't mean Rodney was getting it.
John waited for Rodney to step back, say something to break the mood, but he didn't. His stomach gave a little flutter when he realized Rodney’s intention a second before Rodney kissed him. The kiss wasn’t particularly passionate, but it wasn’t tentative either; it was firm in a way he hadn’t known Rodney could be. He was free to stop this, but he opened to it, letting Rodney inside because he wanted him there, had been wanting for a long time. Rodney was breathing a little fast, but the kiss stayed slow and warm and steady.
John was the one that finally broke it off. He pulled Rodney in until they were pressed together from chest to thigh. “Let’s go see Ronon,” he said into Rodney’s hair.
Rodney made a little sound of annoyance, but John could hear the affection under it. “Yeah, we should do that,” he said. He brushed his mouth over John’s again, but it wasn’t like the first kiss; this one was light, a little teasing, full of promises. Rodney always teased him, so he shouldn’t be surprised. The door opened to Rodney’s impatient swipe, and he strode out into the corridor, pausing when John didn’t immediately follow. “Well? Come on, chop chop, let’s get going.”
John shrugged and went. They could pick up Ronon and get something to eat together. Rodney thought he could fix everything, and he knew from experience that it was a waste of energy trying to disillusion him.
Author:
keefaqWord count: 1284
Episode Tag for 5.03 Broken Ties
Written for the Season 5 Tagathon at
sga_episodeficSummary: John just wants to avoid the whole subject.
He took the sword to Dex. That was all he could do for him. McKay sat with him hour after hour, no doubt filling the air with nonsense. Teyla visited him, too. Dex was getting better, and yeah, he wasn’t ever going to be his old self again, but he seemed okay. John didn’t ask. He was busy with all the stuff that went into keeping the city running. He knew Dex would get that he was busy. That was the cool thing about Dex, one of the cool things.
McKay was a different sort altogether.
“Hey, hey, hey! Stop right there, Colonel.” There was no way to get away from McKay. The bastard had no sense of privacy for himself and never recognized the need in others.
He tried anyway. “Really busy here, McKay, so make it quick.”
McKay gave him that little moue he used to cover up when his feelings got hurt.
“Yes, Colonel,” he said. “We’ve all noticed how very busy you are lately.”
John continued walking. If McKay wanted to lecture him he’d have to keep up. McKay grabbed his arm to slow him down and he felt his whole body go stiff with the struggle to curb his temper. He spun around suddenly, letting McKay see a little of what he was feeling, but McKay wouldn’t back off. Instead he mirrored John’s anger, actually giving his arm a little shake. “What is up with you?”
John glanced up and down the corridor. They were alone, outside John’s quarters, and John palmed open the door. He just wanted to get rid of McKay as quickly and quietly as he could. He spoke with exaggerated patience. “What is it you want, McKay?”
McKay let go of his arm and straightened up, said, fake casual, “I’m going to ask Ronon to get something to eat. Come with us.”
It was clearly not a request, but he declined anyway, shaking his head and backing up into his quarters dismissively. “Sorry.”
McKay crowded in on him again. “You’re not sorry,” he said angrily. “Don’t you have any feeling for what Ronon’s been going--”
His hand was on McKay’s chest before he could finish the question. He tried to shove him back into the corridor, but McKay was stronger than he looked, and stubborn. He wouldn’t back off. “What?” McKay had lost the angry look. John had to turn away from his intensity. “Talk to me, here. I don’t get it. Ronon thinks you’re disappointed in him or something.”
John couldn’t hold onto his anger when McKay looked at him like that, looked into him. “I know what he’s going through, okay? I know exactly how he feels. You just can’t get it McKay, because you haven’t been there.”
“I haven’t been there? What’s that supposed to mean? Of course I’ve been there. Just because you weren’t there to witness it, you’ve forgotten?”
John dropped into his desk chair but it was impossible to get any breathing room when McKay was after him. He’d stand too close to him no matter where John went. He noticed the door of the room had closed behind them, keeping them inside together. “I think I know better than you what Ronon’s going through,” McKay said. “You didn’t have to go through any withdrawal. I know everyone thought I was exaggerating, but now you can all see how bad it was.”
John dropped his head, not wanting to see McKay’s too perceptive eyes on him. “It’s not about pain,” he said. “It has nothing at all to do with pain.” He stopped pressing his fingertips to his temples, wished he could stop McKay as easily.
But McKay wouldn’t stop, he—Jesus—he knelt down in front of John, hands on John’s knees. John fixed his gaze over Rodney’s shoulder so he wouldn’t have to see the sympathy he knew was on Rodney’s face. “Yeah, the rush, I felt that, too,” Rodney said, still not getting it.
“Rodney,” John shook his head. “You did it to yourself,” he said. That was as close to an explanation as he could go.
He could tell the moment Rodney got it. He squeezed John’s knees lightly. It surprised him how gentle Rodney could be. “It’s physiology,” Rodney said, trying to give him an out from the revulsion this whole thing brought back.
He nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I know that.” It should be weirder, or ridiculous, having Rodney kneeling in front of him, touching him, exuding sympathy. Rodney was trying so hard, he was always so willing to put himself out there in a way John never could. He wanted to put his own hands onto Rodney, give something back. “I’m okay,” he said, and even though he felt a little shaky, it was part of the truth. He put his hands around the back of Rodney’s neck, rubbed along his hairline, and Rodney let him, even leaned into him a little.
Rodney was the one to break the mood, finally, getting up with a groan, his hand going to the small of his back. He grabbed John and pulled him up, too, and John let himself be shuffled against Rodney’s warm chest. He couldn’t help brushing his mouth against Rodney’s hair lightly, breathing in the scent of unadulterated Rodney. He never smelled of shampoo or soap, probably because he used unscented hypoallergenic everything. Rodney’s breath caught and he wrapped his arms around John’s back. It felt okay. It felt good, natural. John put his arms around Rodney’s neck and returned the hug. This was a different kind of pleasure, cleaner and a lot less complicated than it had always seemed in his imagination.
Rodney tried to lean away from him but John recklessly held on. Let Rodney make of it whatever he liked, he was going for broke. Rodney finally put his hand on John’s chest to force a space between them, trying to meet his eyes, but John averted his gaze. He thought Rodney'd have to be an idiot not to get it by now, but Rodney could be amazingly dense when it came to people's feelings. Just because John felt he was giving too much away didn't mean Rodney was getting it.
John waited for Rodney to step back, say something to break the mood, but he didn't. His stomach gave a little flutter when he realized Rodney’s intention a second before Rodney kissed him. The kiss wasn’t particularly passionate, but it wasn’t tentative either; it was firm in a way he hadn’t known Rodney could be. He was free to stop this, but he opened to it, letting Rodney inside because he wanted him there, had been wanting for a long time. Rodney was breathing a little fast, but the kiss stayed slow and warm and steady.
John was the one that finally broke it off. He pulled Rodney in until they were pressed together from chest to thigh. “Let’s go see Ronon,” he said into Rodney’s hair.
Rodney made a little sound of annoyance, but John could hear the affection under it. “Yeah, we should do that,” he said. He brushed his mouth over John’s again, but it wasn’t like the first kiss; this one was light, a little teasing, full of promises. Rodney always teased him, so he shouldn’t be surprised. The door opened to Rodney’s impatient swipe, and he strode out into the corridor, pausing when John didn’t immediately follow. “Well? Come on, chop chop, let’s get going.”
John shrugged and went. They could pick up Ronon and get something to eat together. Rodney thought he could fix everything, and he knew from experience that it was a waste of energy trying to disillusion him.