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sga_flashfic2006-11-29 04:54 pm
sheafrotherdon.livejournal.com) wrote in sga_flashfic2006-11-29 04:54 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: 25c And A Gumball Too
Fic: 25c And A Gumball Too (Body Modification Challenge)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sheafrotherdon
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I own nothing! Just playing in the sandbox.
Summary: John buys a little something for Rodney. (Spoilers for 3x11: Echoes) ~900 words
A/N: A dash of silly, in pretty much equal and opposite proportion to the angst of the last one.
The Daedalus arrived just before 6am with a hold full of fresh supplies – weapons, coffee beans, gut-rotting snacks, electronics, new uniforms, military-issue boots. It took a while for everything to be unloaded – even longer for each shipment to be properly checked off the manifest and dispatched to the appropriate city department – but by 8.50am, Sheppard was striding along the corridor toward Rodney's lab with a spring in his step and a little something hidden in his hand.
"What. What did you do?" Rodney asked, coming from the other direction, a laptop tucked under his arm.
John looked right and left. "In here," he said, dragging Rodney into a supply closet.
"I – get your hands off – you are . . . " Rodney slapped at John's hold on his jacket. "Have you finally lost what people have been generous enough in the past to call your mind? We have a briefing in ten minutes! I do not have time to tend to your lust-addled body right now!"
"Take off your jacket," John said, thinking shut at the door.
"What?'
"Take off your jacket," John said again.
"No!"
"Rodneeeey."
"Nine minutes! I have not yet drunk even close to enough coffee to make me coordinated enough to undress, dress, and make it to the briefing in nine minutes! You know exactly how bad I am with belts before lunch, not to mention how tricky my body seems to find the concept of putting on underwear when it's still dark out!
John quirked an eyebrow. "S'not dark out anymore." He took Rodney's laptop out of his hand and set it on a shelf.
"It's dark in here!" Rodney snapped.
"Yeah, well." John turned Rodney around, thought dim at the lights, and grabbed his jacket by the collar, tugging hard.
Rodney yelped. "I can't believe you're manhandling me!"
"Oh c'mon, you like being manhandled. Last night you distinctly said – "
"I had eaten four slices of almost-pizza, drunk two glasses of intergalactic hooch, and was harder than can possibly be healthy for any man to be, considering I'd spent the whole of dinner watching you lick your lips!" Rodney protested. "Of course I was in favor of being handled by your . . mans . . ." He grimaced. "Something."
John threw Rodney's jacket on the floor, grabbed for his arm, held it steady, and pushed up the sleeve of his tshirt. "You're warm," he smiled, a little dangerously.
"What are you doing?" Rodney asked, looking more than a little worried.
John edged even closer. "I have something for you." He smiled again and leaned in close, bending to lick a long, slow stripe over Rodney's flexing bicep. "Mmm," he said, pulling back, before slapping something over the damp patch of skin with his other hand.
"Wha – we're hitting now??" Rodney asked.
"Just gotta wait thirty seconds," John said, hitching one shoulder. "Hey, you see we got Mac 'n' Cheese on the new shipment?"
Rodney blinked, a little dazed. "We did? Did they unpack it already? Will it be ready at lunch?"
"Maybe," John offered, glancing at his watch. "Dinner for sure. Want me to come get you?"
"Yeah, sure, that'd be – "
"S'ready," John said, grinning, and pulled his hand away, leaning in and obscuring Rodney's view while he scratched at something with the tip of a fingernail, then pulled. "There," he said proudly, standing back.
Rodney peered at his upper arm. "It's a – "
"Tattoo."
"A – whale tattoo."
"Lick 'n' stick," John nodded smugly. "Though you'd like it. In case you were, you know – " He scratched the back of his neck.
"I – know?"
"Missin' Sam."
Rodney looked at his arm and back at John again. "I – "
"You're welcome."
"You're twelve aren't you?"
"Pretty much. Hey – " He rooted around in his pocket. "Comes with a gumball too." He dropped one in Rodney's hand.
Rodney's face softened, expressing something like affection with a dash of hysteria. "Thank you." He stuffed the gumball in his pocket, took one more look at the whale, then pulled down his sleeve. "Maybe you should check on him later."
"Who?"
"John the whale."
John beamed. "You called him John?"
Rodney hitched a shoulder and tried to look nonchalant. "S'obviously a – boy whale."
John beamed even more, then slapped him on the shoulder. "Okay, we should go to the briefing." He thought the door open and stepped outside. "Don't forget your laptop."
Rodney shrugged back into his jacket. "Did you just get the one?"
"Tattoo?"
"Nah. I got a bunch. Batman and um – oh, that guy with the . . . "
"Wolverine?"
"Yeah! And Superman." He shrugged. "Course."
"Maybe I could – " Rodney squared his shoulders. "Return the favor later."
John grinned. "Awesome." He smoothed his face out into a more appropriate smile as he saw Elizabeth. "Morning."
"Gentlemen. Thick as thieves, I see. Are you – dabbling again?"
Rodney blinked. John hitched a shoulder. "Sure," he said, clapped Rodney on the back, and headed into the briefing room, humming Yellow Submarine as he went.
Author:
sheafrotherdonPairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I own nothing! Just playing in the sandbox.
Summary: John buys a little something for Rodney. (Spoilers for 3x11: Echoes) ~900 words
A/N: A dash of silly, in pretty much equal and opposite proportion to the angst of the last one.
The Daedalus arrived just before 6am with a hold full of fresh supplies – weapons, coffee beans, gut-rotting snacks, electronics, new uniforms, military-issue boots. It took a while for everything to be unloaded – even longer for each shipment to be properly checked off the manifest and dispatched to the appropriate city department – but by 8.50am, Sheppard was striding along the corridor toward Rodney's lab with a spring in his step and a little something hidden in his hand.
"What. What did you do?" Rodney asked, coming from the other direction, a laptop tucked under his arm.
John looked right and left. "In here," he said, dragging Rodney into a supply closet.
"I – get your hands off – you are . . . " Rodney slapped at John's hold on his jacket. "Have you finally lost what people have been generous enough in the past to call your mind? We have a briefing in ten minutes! I do not have time to tend to your lust-addled body right now!"
"Take off your jacket," John said, thinking shut at the door.
"What?'
"Take off your jacket," John said again.
"No!"
"Rodneeeey."
"Nine minutes! I have not yet drunk even close to enough coffee to make me coordinated enough to undress, dress, and make it to the briefing in nine minutes! You know exactly how bad I am with belts before lunch, not to mention how tricky my body seems to find the concept of putting on underwear when it's still dark out!
John quirked an eyebrow. "S'not dark out anymore." He took Rodney's laptop out of his hand and set it on a shelf.
"It's dark in here!" Rodney snapped.
"Yeah, well." John turned Rodney around, thought dim at the lights, and grabbed his jacket by the collar, tugging hard.
Rodney yelped. "I can't believe you're manhandling me!"
"Oh c'mon, you like being manhandled. Last night you distinctly said – "
"I had eaten four slices of almost-pizza, drunk two glasses of intergalactic hooch, and was harder than can possibly be healthy for any man to be, considering I'd spent the whole of dinner watching you lick your lips!" Rodney protested. "Of course I was in favor of being handled by your . . mans . . ." He grimaced. "Something."
John threw Rodney's jacket on the floor, grabbed for his arm, held it steady, and pushed up the sleeve of his tshirt. "You're warm," he smiled, a little dangerously.
"What are you doing?" Rodney asked, looking more than a little worried.
John edged even closer. "I have something for you." He smiled again and leaned in close, bending to lick a long, slow stripe over Rodney's flexing bicep. "Mmm," he said, pulling back, before slapping something over the damp patch of skin with his other hand.
"Wha – we're hitting now??" Rodney asked.
"Just gotta wait thirty seconds," John said, hitching one shoulder. "Hey, you see we got Mac 'n' Cheese on the new shipment?"
Rodney blinked, a little dazed. "We did? Did they unpack it already? Will it be ready at lunch?"
"Maybe," John offered, glancing at his watch. "Dinner for sure. Want me to come get you?"
"Yeah, sure, that'd be – "
"S'ready," John said, grinning, and pulled his hand away, leaning in and obscuring Rodney's view while he scratched at something with the tip of a fingernail, then pulled. "There," he said proudly, standing back.
Rodney peered at his upper arm. "It's a – "
"Tattoo."
"A – whale tattoo."
"Lick 'n' stick," John nodded smugly. "Though you'd like it. In case you were, you know – " He scratched the back of his neck.
"I – know?"
"Missin' Sam."
Rodney looked at his arm and back at John again. "I – "
"You're welcome."
"You're twelve aren't you?"
"Pretty much. Hey – " He rooted around in his pocket. "Comes with a gumball too." He dropped one in Rodney's hand.
Rodney's face softened, expressing something like affection with a dash of hysteria. "Thank you." He stuffed the gumball in his pocket, took one more look at the whale, then pulled down his sleeve. "Maybe you should check on him later."
"Who?"
"John the whale."
John beamed. "You called him John?"
Rodney hitched a shoulder and tried to look nonchalant. "S'obviously a – boy whale."
John beamed even more, then slapped him on the shoulder. "Okay, we should go to the briefing." He thought the door open and stepped outside. "Don't forget your laptop."
Rodney shrugged back into his jacket. "Did you just get the one?"
"Tattoo?"
"Nah. I got a bunch. Batman and um – oh, that guy with the . . . "
"Wolverine?"
"Yeah! And Superman." He shrugged. "Course."
"Maybe I could – " Rodney squared his shoulders. "Return the favor later."
John grinned. "Awesome." He smoothed his face out into a more appropriate smile as he saw Elizabeth. "Morning."
"Gentlemen. Thick as thieves, I see. Are you – dabbling again?"
Rodney blinked. John hitched a shoulder. "Sure," he said, clapped Rodney on the back, and headed into the briefing room, humming Yellow Submarine as he went.
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