[identity profile] cincodemaygirl.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] sga_flashfic
Title: Working Out the Kinks
Author: [livejournal.com profile] cincodemaygirl
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: R
Summary: The first time they tried having sex, it was so stupendously bad that they didn't even think about attempting it again for months.
Word count: ~1200
Notes: Many thanks to my clan of betas, [livejournal.com profile] jenna_thorn, [livejournal.com profile] vegetariansushi, and [livejournal.com profile] siegeofangels, as well as a few more folks who offered title suggestions and encouragement.


The first time they tried having sex, it was so stupendously bad that they didn't even think about attempting it again for months. John's elbow caught Rodney’s eye in the undressing melee, and later Rodney kneed John in the groin. It was far from a pretty picture, and the awkwardness was off the charts.

"Oh well," John said, "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

"And when you say 'the time,' you mean, when you were horny and I was the only person in range?"

"Don’t be that way. It’s nobody's fault. We’re just not... compatible in bed, I guess." John mopped at his stomach with a sock and looked embarrassed.

Rodney was glad John didn't seem to think that the problem was just that Rodney was lousy in bed, and he didn't want to imply that John was bad in bed, so silence seemed the best course of action. Besides, Rodney was too embarrassed to even consider speaking, which might have been a first.

*

Five months and no play for either of them later, after a tough mission with an awful lot of very attractive priests and priestesses doing erotic ritual dances (when the memory of their first try was far enough away to seem charmingly rudimentary, and weren't they both a little tipsy at the time?), they tried it again. Surely, John murmured between kisses, they'll have worked out the kinks?

They hadn’t. At all. On the second go-round, Rodney actually had to accompany John to the infirmary so that Carson could x-ray his toe. John had undressed at record speed--way ahead of Rodney, who was still entirely clothed. He had pulled Rodney down on top of him and onto the bed, causing Rodney's still booted foot to crunch down onto John's shoeless big toe. Much swearing, limping, and two x-rays later ("No, there's nothing that I can do, and it's going to hurt like a [Scottish swear word of some kind], and you're off duty for a week"), John swore a solemn vow to never ever attempt sex with Rodney again. Ever.

Rodney resented the recriminations but agreed that sex--between the two of them, obviously, not in general--was a poor idea. He himself had sustained various smaller injuries, including a bite to the neck that actually bled (luckily Carson didn't notice it due to the sheer volume of John's complaints), three fingernail scratches at his waist, and sore cartilage where John had accidentally put a finger nearly up Rodney's nose while trying to hold his jaw. They were definitely fundamentally incompatible sexually. Nobody's fault; sad but true.

*

After the second time there was avoidance, even more awkwardness, and a whole lot less time before the third time. Only three weeks later, they were off on a mission alone because Teyla was sick with some sort of intergalactic flu bug and Ronon was at a Satedan reunion offworld.

Elizabeth had spoken to them sternly before they went through the gate. "Ordinarily, I would send Lorne with you, but the planet is uninhabited. Also, you should take this opportunity to work through whatever personal problems you're having with each other that may be affecting your performance. You're making the rest of your team uncomfortable; you didn't really think that Teyla had flu, did you?"

Rodney and John both made indignant squawking noises, but they went on the mission, which was boring as shit and involved flying over a great deal of scrubby desert looking for cave formations that might hold Ancient technology. There was so much ground to cover (every bit of it boring and gray-green) that they were scheduled to check in every four hours and stay overnight. When the bickering (mainly over what flight pattern would cover the greatest amount of dull ground the fastest) came to a boil, they were suddenly kissing on the floor of the jumper and neither one of them had a clue who had initiated it.

But it was definitely John who got come in Rodney's eye.

"Oh, for Pete's sake, Rodney, it's not like I did it on purpose," John said, after apologizing earnestly and even finding an eyewash kit in the jumper's medical supplies.

"You certainly could have been more careful," Rodney griped, and then paused thoughtfully. "But I suppose you could make it up to me with a blowjob."

John was happy to comply. After all, Rodney was right; getting come in the eye stung like a bitch, and it was the least he could do. He seemed to enjoy it, anyway, and didn't have a lot of snark to contribute to Rodney's exposition upon the immense importance of his eyesight to the mission and to humanity in general, which he presented on their way back to Atlantis.

After the debrief ("There's nothing there, and a whole lot of it," John reported), Rodney didn't even mention having Beckett check his eye when they went for their post-mission medical clearance. Anyway, what was he going to say? "I got a hostile alien substance from the incredibly boring planet in my eye?" That was going to lead to a lot of follow-up questions Rodney had no interest in answering, like what kind of alien substance and just how he came into contact with it. But John grinned and invited Rodney over to his quarters for an action movie, which was the dumbest code in two galaxies.

*

The fourth time, only minor injuries were incurred, and Rodney felt comfortable enough to apologize for that time with the bruised toe, and John said he would aim more carefully in the future. Then they both burst out laughing. "I guess," John said, smiling, "It must be worth it since I keep coming back, cuts and bruises and all. I don't know what your feelings are on the subject." He let the sentence end on an up-note, an unspoken question; Rodney kissed him in reply.

They spent the next several months working out their compatibility issues. Carson noticed that he was seeing each of them a lot more often for non-mission-related injuries, and that was in spite of the fact that John often convinced Rodney to give non-bleeding injuries a day or two to heal before seeking medical attention, including that time he pulled muscle in his tongue (which was extremely painful).

Rodney owed him a favor after kicking him squarely in the chest because of a charley horse.

"Which you didn't even actually have," John reminded him.

"But I thought I felt one coming on, and you know how if you move right away, you can sometimes stop it--"

"Oh, whatever," John scoffed. "Anyway, I'm cold. Get the hell over here and let's go to sleep." He held out an arm, and Rodney settled over it.

"We're going to kill each other one of these days." Rodney sighed and pulled up the sheet, settling his arm over John's hip. "But at least we'll go happy."

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Stargate Atlantis Flashfiction

April 2017

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