SGA Fic - Spring Break
Jan. 23rd, 2007 01:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
annundrielWritten during winter break. Apparently, this is what happens when I'm exhausted after a quarter of English and philosophy and attempt to cheer myself up.
SGA Fic. Alternate universe. Sheppard/McKay.
Spring Break
Rodney wakes up to the sound of someone pounding on the door of his dorm room and growls into his pillow. He’s just suffered through the Finals Week of Hell and deserves a nap, damn it. Dragging himself off the bed, he heads to the door, grumbling about stupid freshman with their stupid questions about their stupid finals, and opens it, expecting to see scrawny Pete from down the hall who can barely multiply without a calculator.
It’s not Pete. It’s John Sheppard, paused mid-knock, leaning casually against the doorjamb and looking ridiculously hot in baggy jeans and an oversized hoodie. Seriously, Rodney was never attracted to the sloppy skateboarder look before. It’s ridiculous.
“What is it, Sheppard?” he snaps, both because John makes him mildly uncomfortable with his casual hot-ness and because he’s missing the chance to catch up on sleep.
“Geez, McKay, I just wanted to see if you were done yet,” John says, dropping his hand and hooking his thumb in his pocket. Rodney absolutely does not follow the movement and absolutely does not blink stupidly at the strip of skin it exposes at John’s waist.
He also completely ignores it when John raises his eyebrow and licks his lips. Instead, Rodney sighs and steps back, giving John room to enter. “Just finished a couple of hours ago,” he says, shutting the door. “I was trying to relax before someone showed up and started banging at my door.” He crosses his arms over his chest in an attempt to keep from touching John and stands in front of the door, trying his best to look annoyed and imperious and knowing that it probably isn’t working in his bed-rumpled state. John can pull-off the rumpled look. Rodney just looks unkempt when he tries it.
John’s got his hands in his pockets now, slouching against Rodney’s desk. “I just finished,” he says, smiling slightly.
“And you felt the need to come straight here and badger me why?”
He shrugs and Rodney’s hands itch to smooth over John’s shoulders. “It’s spring break, Rodney,” John says, as though that explains his need to invade Rodney’s space.
“So shouldn’t you be out drinking large quantities of cheap beer and hooking up with loose women?” Rodney asks, annoyed at the thought that maybe John was here to drag him along with him. And wouldn’t that be the best spring break ever, being forced to watch his unrequited crush make out with every girl that was fast enough to catch him? No, thank you.
John kicks at a stain on the floor (totally there when Rodney moved in) and sort of half-frowns, half-smiles at him. “It’s not the loose women I’m after.”
Rodney’s not sure what to say to that, except now John’s straightened up and taken one step, two steps toward him and is standing directly in front of him, barely a foot away. “It’s—It’s not?” Rodney asks, mouth suddenly dry.
“Nope,” John answers, shaking his head.
“What are you after?” Rodney manages to get out. John’s moved closer now. If Rodney uncrosses his arms, they’ll be chest to chest.
“Just this,” John says and before Rodney can ask what, can blink, John’s mouth is on his, firm and warm and lips just a little bit chapped. It’s over before it really begins.
Rodney blinks at him. John stares back for a moment before leaning in again, slowly this time, as though he’s waiting for Rodney to protest.
Which is so not going to happen. The standing there stupidly is purely because of the shock.
This time all it takes is a tentative touch of John’s tongue against Rodney’s bottom lip before Rodney sighs and kisses back, arms unfolding and hands going to the strip of skin at John’s waist that has teased him almost every single day he’s known John. John’s own hands are on his neck, warm and just the right amount of rough.
Rodney groans when John pulls away too soon, but when he opens his eyes John is trying not to be too obvious about grinning at him, his lips shiny red. “So,” he says. “That’s what I thought I’d do for break. Loose women? Not really my thing. Although cheap beer might still be on the agenda.” He leans in again, a quick kiss this time. “That okay with you?”
Leaning back against the door and pulling John with him, thumbs stroking the skin across John’s pointy hip bones, Rodney smiles and says, “Works for me.”
*
When Rodney wakes up, the sun’s only starting to go down. There’s something heavy on top of him and he feels overly warm. As he goes to stretch he realizes that both sensations are being caused by the body that’s sprawled half on top of his own. Rodney lets out a sigh and smiles at the dark head currently resting on his chest. He brings a hand up to tentatively stroke the messy shock of hair. It’s thick and soft beneath his fingers and Rodney can’t help but wonder if John’s post-sex hair will look that different from his pre-sex hair.
Not too long after, John stirs and Rodney stops his stroking. John lifts his head and turns to look up at Rodney, blinking blearily at him in the dimming light. Then he smiles at Rodney, a slow, brilliant bloom across his face and into his eyes. Rodney can feel his own mouth responding to that smile.
“Hi,” John says, his voice just a little rough from too much use and sleep.
“Hi,” Rodney replies, surprised at how quiet and husky his own voice is, but he’s afraid to be any louder for fear of ruining the moment.
And it’s a really good moment. Gorgeous John Sheppard sprawled naked on top of him. His hair is, well, not actually that different from before Rodney grabbed hold and did his best to kiss the hell out of him. No, the evidence of at least the kissing is all in John’s mouth, on John’s remarkably full lips. They’re still red and a little swollen and completely kissable. Rodney licks his lips and wants to kiss him and just cannot stop staring. He’d feel bad about that, except that John has propped his chin on Rodney’s chest and is staring right back. More specifically, John’s staring at his mouth. At his lips. That he just licked.
Rodney moves his hand, which had gone from stroking John’s head to resting lightly on John’s shoulder when John had woken, to John’s neck. “Come here,” he says, gently pressing.
John comes eagerly forward, easy and soft and oh so good.
SGA Fic. Alternate universe. Sheppard/McKay.
Spring Break
Rodney wakes up to the sound of someone pounding on the door of his dorm room and growls into his pillow. He’s just suffered through the Finals Week of Hell and deserves a nap, damn it. Dragging himself off the bed, he heads to the door, grumbling about stupid freshman with their stupid questions about their stupid finals, and opens it, expecting to see scrawny Pete from down the hall who can barely multiply without a calculator.
It’s not Pete. It’s John Sheppard, paused mid-knock, leaning casually against the doorjamb and looking ridiculously hot in baggy jeans and an oversized hoodie. Seriously, Rodney was never attracted to the sloppy skateboarder look before. It’s ridiculous.
“What is it, Sheppard?” he snaps, both because John makes him mildly uncomfortable with his casual hot-ness and because he’s missing the chance to catch up on sleep.
“Geez, McKay, I just wanted to see if you were done yet,” John says, dropping his hand and hooking his thumb in his pocket. Rodney absolutely does not follow the movement and absolutely does not blink stupidly at the strip of skin it exposes at John’s waist.
He also completely ignores it when John raises his eyebrow and licks his lips. Instead, Rodney sighs and steps back, giving John room to enter. “Just finished a couple of hours ago,” he says, shutting the door. “I was trying to relax before someone showed up and started banging at my door.” He crosses his arms over his chest in an attempt to keep from touching John and stands in front of the door, trying his best to look annoyed and imperious and knowing that it probably isn’t working in his bed-rumpled state. John can pull-off the rumpled look. Rodney just looks unkempt when he tries it.
John’s got his hands in his pockets now, slouching against Rodney’s desk. “I just finished,” he says, smiling slightly.
“And you felt the need to come straight here and badger me why?”
He shrugs and Rodney’s hands itch to smooth over John’s shoulders. “It’s spring break, Rodney,” John says, as though that explains his need to invade Rodney’s space.
“So shouldn’t you be out drinking large quantities of cheap beer and hooking up with loose women?” Rodney asks, annoyed at the thought that maybe John was here to drag him along with him. And wouldn’t that be the best spring break ever, being forced to watch his unrequited crush make out with every girl that was fast enough to catch him? No, thank you.
John kicks at a stain on the floor (totally there when Rodney moved in) and sort of half-frowns, half-smiles at him. “It’s not the loose women I’m after.”
Rodney’s not sure what to say to that, except now John’s straightened up and taken one step, two steps toward him and is standing directly in front of him, barely a foot away. “It’s—It’s not?” Rodney asks, mouth suddenly dry.
“Nope,” John answers, shaking his head.
“What are you after?” Rodney manages to get out. John’s moved closer now. If Rodney uncrosses his arms, they’ll be chest to chest.
“Just this,” John says and before Rodney can ask what, can blink, John’s mouth is on his, firm and warm and lips just a little bit chapped. It’s over before it really begins.
Rodney blinks at him. John stares back for a moment before leaning in again, slowly this time, as though he’s waiting for Rodney to protest.
Which is so not going to happen. The standing there stupidly is purely because of the shock.
This time all it takes is a tentative touch of John’s tongue against Rodney’s bottom lip before Rodney sighs and kisses back, arms unfolding and hands going to the strip of skin at John’s waist that has teased him almost every single day he’s known John. John’s own hands are on his neck, warm and just the right amount of rough.
Rodney groans when John pulls away too soon, but when he opens his eyes John is trying not to be too obvious about grinning at him, his lips shiny red. “So,” he says. “That’s what I thought I’d do for break. Loose women? Not really my thing. Although cheap beer might still be on the agenda.” He leans in again, a quick kiss this time. “That okay with you?”
Leaning back against the door and pulling John with him, thumbs stroking the skin across John’s pointy hip bones, Rodney smiles and says, “Works for me.”
*
When Rodney wakes up, the sun’s only starting to go down. There’s something heavy on top of him and he feels overly warm. As he goes to stretch he realizes that both sensations are being caused by the body that’s sprawled half on top of his own. Rodney lets out a sigh and smiles at the dark head currently resting on his chest. He brings a hand up to tentatively stroke the messy shock of hair. It’s thick and soft beneath his fingers and Rodney can’t help but wonder if John’s post-sex hair will look that different from his pre-sex hair.
Not too long after, John stirs and Rodney stops his stroking. John lifts his head and turns to look up at Rodney, blinking blearily at him in the dimming light. Then he smiles at Rodney, a slow, brilliant bloom across his face and into his eyes. Rodney can feel his own mouth responding to that smile.
“Hi,” John says, his voice just a little rough from too much use and sleep.
“Hi,” Rodney replies, surprised at how quiet and husky his own voice is, but he’s afraid to be any louder for fear of ruining the moment.
And it’s a really good moment. Gorgeous John Sheppard sprawled naked on top of him. His hair is, well, not actually that different from before Rodney grabbed hold and did his best to kiss the hell out of him. No, the evidence of at least the kissing is all in John’s mouth, on John’s remarkably full lips. They’re still red and a little swollen and completely kissable. Rodney licks his lips and wants to kiss him and just cannot stop staring. He’d feel bad about that, except that John has propped his chin on Rodney’s chest and is staring right back. More specifically, John’s staring at his mouth. At his lips. That he just licked.
Rodney moves his hand, which had gone from stroking John’s head to resting lightly on John’s shoulder when John had woken, to John’s neck. “Come here,” he says, gently pressing.
John comes eagerly forward, easy and soft and oh so good.
