Mensa AU Fic Exchange: "They Should Really Label These Things" for <user site="livejournal.com" user
Title: They Should Really Label These Things
Author:
wayfarersgirl
Pairing: Rodney/John, Rod/Mensa!John, Rodney/Mensa!John, and a little Rod/John
SGA-verse or MENSA-verse: SGA-verse and Mensa-verse. And combinations thereof.
Rating: Light NC-17
Warnings: None
Recipient:
trinityofone
“Half an hour more, alright? I'll be done soon, I promise.”
John tried not to grimace. Really, he wasn't mad at Rod. But ever since he "magically" (Rod liked to call it magic, because he knew how much it irked John) appeared back in Atlantis, everything Rod did annoyed John. Morning runs? Annoying. Trips to the mainland for council meetings? Always inconvenient. The constant air of superiority because he'd been to a parallel universe and returned alive? John was about ready to pull out his hair, and that was saying something.
They'd drawn straws, sure, but John was pretty sure Rod rigged it. He was all about the glory and being a martyr and saving everyone else's asses all the time, he never, ever asked for credit. Half the city worshipped him, and the other half just didn't know what to make of him. He was so nice, and so brilliant, and so sexy, and it drove John crazy. Because maybe John wasn't nice; he was brilliant, though, and he liked to think of himself as sexy. But Rod slept through half the city and still hadn't looked twice at him. It just wasn't fair.
“Fine, but I've got several projects waiting for me back home, and I'd like to get some work done on those today, so if you could hurry it up with the ruins, we'd all much appreciate it,” John finally responded, nodding towards Teyla and Ronon. Ronon just grunted, as Ronon tended to do, and Teyla looked between the two of them, expressionless. John had only once seen an actual facial expression on Teyla, and it had scared him for two days. Teyla and Ronon glanced at each other, and in some silent agreement headed outside the chamber.
“Sure thing, John. Hey, would you mind going over to that console—no, the other one—yeah, that's it. Thanks. Now could you please touch the corner and think 'on' for me? Great.” Rod turned back to his laptop, never even making eye contact with John.
John sighed. He reached over, found the switch Rod was probably referring to, and touched it gently, closing his eyes. As soon as he thought “on,” he felt a burning sensation start to climb up his fingers. He yanked back his hand, trying to think “off,” but the burning continued to crawl up his wrist and arm.
“Rod!” he screamed, looking over towards the side of the room Rod was—or, had previously been—standing in. He was gone. John jerked his head around, looking for Ronon or Teyla, as the fire spread to his torso and legs. He collapsed onto the floor, trying not to shake too violently, and could hear himself brokenly repeating “Rod, Rod, Rod,” over and over, until he blacked out and fell to the stone floor.
**
“Colonel, could you come back here for a moment, please?” Rodney asked over the radio. Sheppard insisted on patrolling around the ruins, warning Rodney about the dangers of semi-large desert-dwelling animals, but Rodney was pretty sure he was just avoiding doing any actual work. Rodney had spent the first several hours getting him to turn things on and off, and Sheppard apparently hadn't been enjoying himself as much as he felt he should be.
“Colonel?” Rodney repeated, after a few seconds. “Teyla, is Sheppard with you?”
“He is not. Ronon and I are together, but Colonel Sheppard left several minutes ago to check the other side of the ruins. Do you need us to get him for you?”
“No,” Rodney answered. If Sheppard was ignoring him, then fine. At least he didn't have to deal with all those stupid comments about Sam, which had been coming non-stop for over a week. It didn't matter that the whales saved their lives; oh, no, it was all about Rodney and his soft spot for marine mammals and blond lieutenant colonels. But it wasn't like he could name the thing “John,” now was it? And even though he was finally over Sam (SG1's foray into the Pegasus Galaxy pretty much cured his hero worship for them), he wasn't about to let slip the crush that had been building itself up for the past several years. Rodney knew he was a horrible liar, so he had to take what opportunities he could to throw Sheppard off his track.
“If you see him, though, tell him to stop pouting and come back. I need him to turn things on for me again.”
“Certainly, Rodney,” Teyla answered, sounding amused. She seemed to get a kick out the arguments he and Sheppard had, only rarely inserting herself between them and forcing peace. When she did, though, they were smart enough to listen.
Rodney turned back to the console he'd been working on, and did a double-take at his readings. The power output had gone up by a factor of one hundred, which shouldn't have been possible, based on the power source. He walked around to the other side, trying to see if something had gone wrong with the connection between his laptop and the console, ducking under the paneling. When everything checked out, he stood back up, and shrieked. There, on the floor, in front of the console, was an unconscious Sheppard. Who hadn't been there thirty seconds earlier.
Rodney raced around the console and kneeled down, checking for pulse and breathing. Okay, alive, apparently uninjured, but internal damage was a possibility. No sign of weapons fire, and Rodney was amazed that he remembered everything he'd learned in field camp. He reached over to see if Sheppard would wake up, and pulled back when his eyes began to open.
“Colonel?” he asked hesitantly.
“Rod?” Sheppard answered, looking confused, before shutting his eyes again. “What the hell was that?”
“Rod?” Rodney asked, getting a little worried. “What happened, Colonel? I couldn't get a hold of you on the radio, and then suddenly you're here.”
“Suddenly?” Sheppard asked, cracking one eye again. “I've been here the whole time, Rod. You asked me to turn the console on, and I did, which was a bad idea, might I add. And where did Ronon and Teyla go?”
“Okay, first of all,” Rodney started, trying not to hyperventilate. Breathe, he told himself. “Ronon and Teyla are walking the perimeter, like they have been for the past half hour, even though I said it was a waste of time. Second of all, I wanted you to turn the console on, but you weren't here. And thirdly, why are you calling me Rod? I mean, I'd generally not be opposed to that, seeing as how I tried for several years to get people to call me that, but in your case I think you'd know better. I don't want to be compared to that impostor, ever.”
As Rodney had been talking, Sheppard's eyes had been getting progressively wider and wider, and his breath had been getting shorter and shorter.
“Holy shit,” Sheppard gasped out, and shoved a hand in his pocket, pulling out an emergency inhaler. After two puffs, he put it back, and pulled out a hard leather glasses case. Inside were black-rimmed, thick-lensed glasses, that he proceeded to put on, before squinting hard at Rodney.
“You're not Rod,” he said, matter-of-factly.
“No,” Rodney answered, trying not to freak out. “I would have thought that would have been obvious, Colonel.”
“I'm not a colonel,” Sheppard answered. “I'm a major.”
“Holy shit,” Rodney responded, his own eyes widening. They both looked toward the console.
“This is bad,” Sheppard-but-not-Sheppard said.
“Fuck, yeah,” Rodney answered.
**
Rod was watching the power output grow exponentially when he heard the shout. He turned towards John, but there was nothing but empty space in front of the console.
“Whoa,” Rod said, rushing over to the console. It blinked up at him innocently.
“You okay in there, Rodney?” John's voice came over the radio, sounding way too casual for someone who just disappeared.
“What just happened, Major? Are you all right?” Rod asked,
“I'm fine, Rodney, and it's Colonel. Good grief; I thought we finally got past that. I just felt a sort of a humming thing, like when something in Atlantis gets powered up, and I'd thought I'd check in. Wouldn't want you blowing up any more solar systems by accident.”
Rod blinked. He'd never blown up a solar system. And he was pretty sure Sheppard was not a Colonel, either. There had been several weeks of grumpiness (even more than normal) when he'd been passed over for the promotion. He looked back at the console, trying to see if there was any writing that might explain what it was intended to do. If only Ancient devices came with instruction manuals, he thought.
It was obvious that the man on the other side of the radio was not his John. That left several options: 1.) His John was dead, and this John had been pulled from an alternate universe to take his place. Rod was pretty sure he didn't like that one, but it had to be considered. 2.) His John was somewhere else in the complex, and the transport of this John into his universe was what caused the power surge. Finally, 3.) The two Johns had switched places, and his John was in some other universe where he was a Colonel and Rod was called Rodney and he'd blown up a solar system once.
Option 3 seemed most likely, so Rodney decided to go with that. If his John had been transported too, it might have something to do with the console, and whatever it was John had turned on before disappearing. If they could mimic that, and get this John to do the same thing, maybe they'd be switched back. Of course, it was also possible that the device picked a universe at random, and this John would just be sent somewhere else, as a universe-jumping Sam Beckett. The random thing didn't seem likely, though, given the amount of energy required to bridge two universes, even ones that were close together.. The (extremely limited) information he had about This John's home universe made it sound a lot like the one he'd just escaped from. Could be the device picked the universe with the strongest connection, which would mean he'd already met the John now wandering around outside. Played golf with the guy. Helped him with his curve, had breakfast, sparred. Almost kissed.
Almost, because Rod had been interrupted by Rodney, who had stormed into John's quarters yelling something about Jeannie and children and birthday gifts, and had barely noticed as Rod slipped out behind him. That Sheppard had been so different than his own; so open, so friendly. It almost seemed like he liked Rod back. Not that John didn't like Rod; everyone liked Rod. He was nice, humble, everything you were supposed to be. But still, he couldn't get John to really see him, see past the Canadian persona. He'd gone through a phase of sleeping with anyone who asked, trying to make John jealous, but it hadn't worked. So it had been nice to pretend for a while, even if he'd known all along that Sheppard really wanted his own Rodney. But Rodney, like John, was either oblivious or just not interested. The almost-kiss was a mutual thing; they'd both been pretending.
And now he had that John back. Even better, this Sheppard didn't know that he wasn't Rodney. If he played it right, he could take advantage of the situation before trying to switch the two men back. It wasn't that he didn't want his own John back, but John had been exceptionally mean since Rod's return. Snapping when he used to grin, huffing when he used to shrug. It was wearing on Rod's nerves, and he needed a break. He deserved a break. And damn it, he was going to take one.
“Sorry, Colonel. It was nothing, just a minor power surge. Would you mind coming back in here and helping me with some....things?” Rod tried not to sound too suggestive, but it was hard, considering where his thoughts were.
“Um, okay,” Sheppard responded. “Be right there.”
Rod looked down, trying to figure out what Rodney would be wearing. The belt knife was out, as were the extra 9mil clip holders. He'd started carrying those only recently, and he doubted Rodney would do the same. He threw the extra equipment behind a panel and grabbed his laptop, pasting on a look he hoped passed as frustrated. When Sheppard entered, he glanced up.
“Finally,” he said, trying to sound irritated, but knowing he probably just sounded stupid.
“Yeah, yeah,” Sheppard drawled, perching his hip on a nearby console.
“Please don't do that, Ma—Colonel. You never know what you might activate.” And it would be a shame if he activated the swap before Rod had time to go through with his plan.
Sheppard cocked an eyebrow.
“Please, huh? I guess if you're going to be polite about, I'll try not to turn anything on by accident.”
“Good,” Rod answered, looking away. Years of conditioning himself to be nice were making it hard to play the part. He needed to do something, quick.
“Can you come over here, Colonel? There's a switch that won't respond to me.”
“Sure,” Sheppard answered, sliding over to the control panel where Rod stood. “What do you need?”
“Right here,” Rod pointed at something innocuous, but positioned such that Sheppard would have to reach across Rod's body to get to it.
“Okay,” Sheppard said, and started toward it. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all,” Rod answered, turning to look Sheppard square in the eye. He couldn't help glancing down at his mouth; this Sheppard didn't wear glasses, but he had the same gorgeous lips, and the same all-day stubble. Sheppard's lips parted and Rod heard a short intake of breath.
“Rodney,” Sheppard's voice wobbled. “What are you doing?”
“This,” Rod answered, and pressed his lips to Sheppard's. At first, there was no response, but after a few seconds, he felt Sheppard's mouth moving against his. He opened, encouraging Sheppard's tongue to trace the inside of mouth, and gasped when his unspoken instructions were followed. Sheppard tasted like sweat and mint, and Rod tried not to let it ruin the illusion. His own John, he knew, used a flavorless toothpaste, and sweat was pretty much a foreign concept. He concentrated on the things that were the same, the shape and texture of the lips caressing his, the feel of Sheppard's shoulders under his hands (but John's were thinner, weren't they), and it just wasn't enough. He pulled back, looking at the wild eyes and reddened mouth of someone else's Sheppard, and tried not to throw up. His expression must have given him away, though, because almost immediately Sheppard's eyes filled with hurt, and he nearly ran all the way out.
“Shit,” Rod said. He sat down on the floor in front of the console and tried to figure out how to activate the switch without a Sheppard to help.
**
“So you touched it where?” Rodney demanded.
“Right there, I told you that,” John said, frustrated.
“Well, touch it again!”
“We've tried that already!”
“Well then try it again!”
“What good would that do?”
“More good than you're doing, standing there without a single helpful idea on how to make this work!”
“I'll have you know that I am the most brilliant man in my own Atlantis, and if I can't figure this out, then no one can!”
“Well, then I guess you're going to be stuck here forever, because it doesn't look like you'll be figuring anything out anytime soon!”
John was at his wit's end. Rod had mentioned, in passing, how annoying the Rodney from that other universe had been. Before the shouting started, they'd decided that it was most probable that they were dealing with a device that created a secondary bridge between two previously linked universes, kind of like a Star-69 for a quantum mirror. If they'd been using a quantum mirror, then the machine would have been infinitely useful. But they weren't, and at the moment, John was focused on not killing the man in front of him. Also, not kissing. Because as annoying as the man was, he was also hot. Not as hot as Rod, maybe, with a little more flab around the middle and a little less hair (though that might just be a difference in styling), but still. Definitely hot. And definitely noticing him.
“Rod told me all about you. He said you were conceited, arrogant, and bad with people. You couldn't even keep a relationship with your sister going for more than a week!” John shot back, and then felt bad when he saw a spark of shame in Rodney's eyes.
“He said the same about you, except for the sister part. He didn't even know if you had any siblings, since you never talk about anything but how brilliant you are,” Rodney returned.
John stopped short. Was that what Rod thought of him? Arrogant, bad with people? No wonder he'd have sex with anyone but John. All this time, John just thought that if he pushed a little harder, made Rod take notice, that maybe in the end—but no. He didn't stand a chance.
“Oh,” he finally said, quietly.
“What?” Rodney said, sounding exasperated.
“Nothing, it's just that...well, no, nothing.” John didn't really want to bare his soul in front of this almost-stranger.
“Spit it out, already,” Rodney said, only a little kinder. John looked up at him. Sure enough, Rodney was looking at him, concern apparent in his bright blue eyes, mingled with frustration, anger, and—was that?—a sort of longing. John nodded, but instead of talking, he leaned forward and kissed Rodney.
“Mmph!” Rodney protested, pushing John away. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Oh, like you can't tell,” John rolled his eyes. “I'm kissing you. Maybe it's been so long since someone did that that you can't remember how it goes. Let me remind you. I put my lips to your lips, and we move them a little, and then maybe we open our mouths, and our tongues start to do stuff too.”
“That's the worst description of kissing I've ever heard,” Rodney answered. “And also, I obviously knew what you were doing. What I meant was, why?”
John shrugged.
“I like Rod, but I don't stand a chance with him. You like your John—and don't deny it, I can tell—but I'm pretty sure you're not with him, and also, he's not here right now. So I thought I'd make us both happy. Now, do you want a hand job or a blow job?”
Rodney squawked. “Do I want a--what? What on earth makes you think that this isn't the worst idea in the history of bad ideas?”
John shrugged. “I figure, once we get this fixed, we'll never see each other again, but at least we'll always have—whatever planet this is.”
Rodney rolled his eyes, but John could see that he was seriously considering the offer. He pressed the advantage. Leaning in, he dragged his cheek along Rodney's, whispering, “Come on, let me blow you. I'll make it good. I'll make it so good, you'll never forget it, not even long after I'm gone. Please?” On the last word, he let out a puff of air into Rodney's ear and smiled when he felt a shiver in response.
“I—“ Rodney said, trying to catch his breath. “Yeah, okay.”
John grinned and slid to his knees, shivering himself when he heard Rodney groan. He opened Rodney's BDUs, and shoved his pants and boxers down in one fluid motion, keeping his eyes on the rapidly hardening cock in front of him. It was beautiful, red and thick and soft and everything Rod was. Except this was Rodney, not Rod, but they couldn't be that different, right? He licked a stripe up the underside, eliciting a long gasp.
Rodney's hands found their way to John's hair, and it was easy to pretend that this was his John, his messy-haired Colonel, instead of some glasses-wearing Major from another universe. So easy to stroke the long, ruffled hair, feel the stretch of those beautiful lips around his cock as they moved in harmony with the short, hard strokes of John's hand. John twisted his tongue on the backstrokes, almost causing Rodney's knees to give out, and he knew he was close.
“John, I—“ Rodney groaned out, and the strokes got faster, and the tongue pressed harder and harder until Rodney was coming, so hard and so good and so wrong, because he'd never once called Colonel Sheppard “John,” and he knew he never would now, because he'd always associate “John” with mind-blowing orgasms, and Sheppard would never be a part of that.
“Good?” John asked, licking his lips. Rodney only nodded, holding himself up against the console.
“Do you mind if I—“ John motioned down to his own tented pants, and Rodney shook his head.
“Do you want me to...?” he didn't finish. John shook his head.
“I just want to watch you,” he said, pulling his own cock out of his pants and boxers and giving it a long stroke. Rodney's eyes widened. That's what Sheppard's cock looked like; long and brown and a little to the left, and as perfect as the man himself. He desperately wanted to touch, to taste, but he stopped himself. John didn't want him to, and anyway, it wasn't really Sheppard.
He was beautiful, though, his hazel eyes focused on Rodney's spent cock, mouth open and panting as he pulled himself closer and closer to the edge. Rodney tried not to move, not to blink, tried to memorize the sight in front of him. The glasses broke up the fantasy some, but so much of the man in front of him was the John Sheppard he knew and--loved? It was possible. Rodney wasn't any better at observing his own emotions than anyone else's, so why couldn't he have fallen in love and not even known it? The implications of that hit Rodney like a stunner to the chest, and he fell back against the control panel, just as John began to come. And then John blinked out of existence.
**
Rod was still sitting beside one of the controls, trying to figure out how to fix what he'd obviously just screwed up, when his laptop alarm announced a major power fluctuation. He jumped up and ran for the main panel, the one John had touched before everything went to hell, only to trip over something that hadn't been there before. He did a duck and roll, landing only slightly off-balance, up against a far wall, and turned to look at what had gotten in his way.
The lights were still dimmer than they had been, but he could easily make out the kneeling figure of John--his John, he'd bet Canadian beer on it--staring eye-level at whatever had been there before. Rod's breath caught in his throat when he realized that John's pants were unbuttoned, and his gorgeous cock had been pulled out and was now dripping with what could only be cum. John was panting, and from his spot several yards away, Rod could barely make out the faint "fuck," that came between gasps.
It only took seconds for his awe to turn to jealousy, and then quickly to fury. It had been years since Rod had allowed himself to get truly angry about anything; most things weren't worth the trouble, and it was easier to deal with people when they weren't scared of you or worried about pissing you off. But this--this was beyond.
"What the hell were you doing?" His voice came out harsher than he'd ever heard it, and John's head whipped around, his mouth dropping open in surprise.
"Uh...I, we, I mean..." John seemed frantic, and Rod didn't blame him. He'd be frantic, too, faced with himself like this.
"Let me phrase that differently: who the hell were you doing that with?" Rod was trying to reign in the years of frustration, the hurt and the jealousy, but it was hard. Because he knew the most likely answer to that question, and he hoped to every higher power he was wrong.
"Well, you see, it's like a Star-69 for universes, so--" John began as he quickly tucked himself back in his pants and tidied everything up.
"I know what it did. I asked you who."
"So, we were trying to figure out how to get me back here, and I guess he hit the equivalent of an undo button, because it seemed to work--" John continued as if Rod hadn't spoken, refusing to make eye contact.
Rod had had enough. He stood up and marched over to John, pulling him up by the bicep, and shoved him against a (different; wouldn't want the whole mess to happen again) control panel. John's gasp was audible.
"Is that what you want?" Rod growled. "Is that why you wanted him? Because he's an asshole, an arrogant, pushy bastard who takes what he wants and thinks nothing of others?"
John shook his head, or at least that's what Rod thought he was doing. He was shaking too hard to tell for certain.
"Because I can do that. I tried nice, I tried brave, I've saved your ass more times than I can count, and for what? So you can go jack off with someone who looks like me, sounds like me, but fucking isn't me!"
"But--" John began, trying to piece together words. "He wanted it."
"Oh, he wanted it, so you just gave it to him? Did you let him fuck you, too? Are you that easy? God, I knew you were hot, but I never took you for a slut."
"I'm not," John said quietly. "But he wanted me." He dropped his gaze to the floor, and Rod stopped short.
"He--" Rod began. John couldn't be that stupid. There was no way. Mensa-toting, genius-boasting brilliant John could not possibly be that stupid. "You're an idiot."
John looked up, shocked and hurt. Rod never called people idiots; that was John's territory. Like good cop/bad cop.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, and tried to turn away.
"If Mensa had an emotional IQ section, they never would have let you in," Rod continued, feeling the relief as he finally let himself say exactly what he was thinking. It was glorious. "You must be one of the most emotionally stunted people in all of Atlantis. Possibly the entire Pegasus Galaxy."
John just shrugged, still trying to leave.
"I'm not done yet," Rod said shortly, holding John still. "You didn't have to go to different universe to find someone who wanted you, you know. I'm sure there are people here who do." John shrugged again. "In fact," Rodney continued, "I can name at least one off the top of my head."
John finally turned back to him, face full of scorn.
"Who?" he sneered.
Rod decided not to dignify that with an answer, and instead leaned forward and captured John's lips in a kiss.
**
"Holy shit," Rodney yelled. If this kept up, he was going to have a heart attack and die before they even left the planet. He looked down at his hand, and sure enough, he'd managed to hit something when he leaned back. It had a similar marking to the one John had pointed out, and was on the opposite corner of the panel. Rodney really hoped it was the button for "reverse earlier process" and not the button for "send new guy to another new universe, and leave old guy in new guy's old universe." With the Ancients, you could never tell.
"Colonel?" Rodney tried the radio. There was no response. "Shit."
He decided that the control room would be fine without him for a minute, and walked to the main entrance. He could see Ronon and Teyla just turning the corner around the outside of the ruins, but Sheppard wasn't in sight.
"Colonel Sheppard, are you there?" Rodney tried again.
"What do you want, Rodney?" Sheppard answered. His voice sounded strained.
"Just making sure you're okay," Rodney stumbled through. He hadn't thought about what to say.
"Right," Sheppard answered sarcastically. "I'm peachy keen, McKay. Is that all?"
"Could you come help me with something in the control room?" Rodney really had needed Sheppard to activate something, so it wasn't just an excuse to see him and make sure this really was his Colonel Sheppard.
"Again?" Sheppard asked.
"Oh, boy," Rodney sighed. "Come here and I'll explain."
"Whatever."
Rodney walked back inside and waited. And waited, and waited for about fifteen minutes before Sheppard finally showed up. He looked disheveled (well, more than usual), and not at all like himself. 'Crap,' Rodney thought. 'I hope it's really him.'
"Would you mind explaining to me what you think happened in the past, oh, half hour or so?" Rodney tried to sound casual, testing the waters to see if Sheppard knew about the device.
Sheppard's face instantly turned a shade of red Rodney had never seen before.
"Is this some kind of sick joke, McKay? Cause I'm not laughing."
Rodney sighed. Apparently not.
"Okay, look, Colonel, I don't know what you believe happened, but that panel over there" Rodney pointed "is capable of switching ATA-carriers from one parallel universe to another. And it just did, for about twenty minutes."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Sheppard's face was still red, but he did look slightly less homicidal, which Rodney counted as a good trait for anyone who regularly carried a P90.
"Remember Rod?" Rodney asked, and continued when Sheppard nodded. "His John--well, the John in his universe--activated it a little less than an hour ago. You and he switched places. I accidentally hit the reverse button right before I called you, and you switched back. So whatever happened between then, you were in Rod's universe, not this one."
"That's a load of crap, McKay, and a really shitty excuse. I'd expect better from you," Sheppard said, turning to leave.
"No, really!" Rodney protested. "He was in here, with me, working, trying to figure out how to send him back."
"I thought you said you did it by accident."
"Well, yeah, because we weren't working on it then."
John turned back to face Rodney.
"What were you doing, then?" he challenged.
Rodney blushed.
"Um. Taking a snack break?" Rodney knew he sucked at lying, but he wasn't about to tell the truth.
"Try again," John said wryly.
"Damn it, Colonel," Rodney was getting frustrated. "What the hell happened that you don't believe me?"
John--no, not John, never John--raised an eyebrow.
"You answer my question, truthfully, and I'll answer yours."
Rodney sighed.
"We were--" This was going to be bad. So, so bad. "We were having sex, okay? He was giving me a blowjob and I leaned back onto the panel and hit a button and then you were switched back. Happy now?" Rodney kept his eyes locked on the wall beside him. He was waiting for Sheppard to either leave or punch him, and he didn't particularly want to see either option.
"You were what?" Sheppard yelled.
"Look," Rodney answered, "I'm sorry to offend your very straight, very masculine sensibilities, but John--I mean, John from the other universe--wasn't quite as straight as you. And, well, he asked, and you know you're hot, and who can say no to a blowjob?"
Rodney could see Sheppard slowly moving forward out of the corner of his eye, and braced himself for a punch. When warm breath hit his ear, he nearly jumped out of his skin.
"Was he any good?" Sheppard asked in a low voice.
"He--" Rodney tried to breathe. "He was okay."
"Not your type?" Sheppard continued, breathing down Rodney's jaw line.
"Not that," Rodney struggled to keep control. "He wasn't--"
"Wasn't what?" Sheppard asked as he brought them face to face, staring deep into each others' eyes.
"Wasn't you," Rodney whispered, and then closed the distance between them.
This was right. Sheppard was sweat and frustration and strength and everything Rodney had expected, and several things more. For starters, he was a lot more gay than Rodney had thought, judging by the way his tongue was sliding easily between Rodney's lips. He was also a lot more eager than Rodney had ever dreamed, licking his way back through Rodney's mouth like he only had one chance to learn it forever. When they finally broke for breath, Rodney tried to find his voice.
"You said you'd answer my question," he got out.
John rested their foreheads together and spoke.
"He kissed me, and he hated it," John said quietly. "It makes sense now, I guess, but it didn't then. He wanted me, and then he didn't."
"God, John," Rodney said, before realizing it. John's gaze turned sharp.
"You called me John," he said.
"I did," Rodney smiled. "I figure, if we're going to be kissing and having sex--and there will be sex, won't there? Because there really, really needs to be sex. A lot of it--then I should call you by your first name. If that's okay."
"Yes," John answered. "Yes to all of it." And he leaned forward and captured Rodney's still-moving lips and yeah, this was good. This was really, really good.
[Poll #973914]
Author:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Pairing: Rodney/John, Rod/Mensa!John, Rodney/Mensa!John, and a little Rod/John
SGA-verse or MENSA-verse: SGA-verse and Mensa-verse. And combinations thereof.
Rating: Light NC-17
Warnings: None
Recipient:
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“Half an hour more, alright? I'll be done soon, I promise.”
John tried not to grimace. Really, he wasn't mad at Rod. But ever since he "magically" (Rod liked to call it magic, because he knew how much it irked John) appeared back in Atlantis, everything Rod did annoyed John. Morning runs? Annoying. Trips to the mainland for council meetings? Always inconvenient. The constant air of superiority because he'd been to a parallel universe and returned alive? John was about ready to pull out his hair, and that was saying something.
They'd drawn straws, sure, but John was pretty sure Rod rigged it. He was all about the glory and being a martyr and saving everyone else's asses all the time, he never, ever asked for credit. Half the city worshipped him, and the other half just didn't know what to make of him. He was so nice, and so brilliant, and so sexy, and it drove John crazy. Because maybe John wasn't nice; he was brilliant, though, and he liked to think of himself as sexy. But Rod slept through half the city and still hadn't looked twice at him. It just wasn't fair.
“Fine, but I've got several projects waiting for me back home, and I'd like to get some work done on those today, so if you could hurry it up with the ruins, we'd all much appreciate it,” John finally responded, nodding towards Teyla and Ronon. Ronon just grunted, as Ronon tended to do, and Teyla looked between the two of them, expressionless. John had only once seen an actual facial expression on Teyla, and it had scared him for two days. Teyla and Ronon glanced at each other, and in some silent agreement headed outside the chamber.
“Sure thing, John. Hey, would you mind going over to that console—no, the other one—yeah, that's it. Thanks. Now could you please touch the corner and think 'on' for me? Great.” Rod turned back to his laptop, never even making eye contact with John.
John sighed. He reached over, found the switch Rod was probably referring to, and touched it gently, closing his eyes. As soon as he thought “on,” he felt a burning sensation start to climb up his fingers. He yanked back his hand, trying to think “off,” but the burning continued to crawl up his wrist and arm.
“Rod!” he screamed, looking over towards the side of the room Rod was—or, had previously been—standing in. He was gone. John jerked his head around, looking for Ronon or Teyla, as the fire spread to his torso and legs. He collapsed onto the floor, trying not to shake too violently, and could hear himself brokenly repeating “Rod, Rod, Rod,” over and over, until he blacked out and fell to the stone floor.
**
“Colonel, could you come back here for a moment, please?” Rodney asked over the radio. Sheppard insisted on patrolling around the ruins, warning Rodney about the dangers of semi-large desert-dwelling animals, but Rodney was pretty sure he was just avoiding doing any actual work. Rodney had spent the first several hours getting him to turn things on and off, and Sheppard apparently hadn't been enjoying himself as much as he felt he should be.
“Colonel?” Rodney repeated, after a few seconds. “Teyla, is Sheppard with you?”
“He is not. Ronon and I are together, but Colonel Sheppard left several minutes ago to check the other side of the ruins. Do you need us to get him for you?”
“No,” Rodney answered. If Sheppard was ignoring him, then fine. At least he didn't have to deal with all those stupid comments about Sam, which had been coming non-stop for over a week. It didn't matter that the whales saved their lives; oh, no, it was all about Rodney and his soft spot for marine mammals and blond lieutenant colonels. But it wasn't like he could name the thing “John,” now was it? And even though he was finally over Sam (SG1's foray into the Pegasus Galaxy pretty much cured his hero worship for them), he wasn't about to let slip the crush that had been building itself up for the past several years. Rodney knew he was a horrible liar, so he had to take what opportunities he could to throw Sheppard off his track.
“If you see him, though, tell him to stop pouting and come back. I need him to turn things on for me again.”
“Certainly, Rodney,” Teyla answered, sounding amused. She seemed to get a kick out the arguments he and Sheppard had, only rarely inserting herself between them and forcing peace. When she did, though, they were smart enough to listen.
Rodney turned back to the console he'd been working on, and did a double-take at his readings. The power output had gone up by a factor of one hundred, which shouldn't have been possible, based on the power source. He walked around to the other side, trying to see if something had gone wrong with the connection between his laptop and the console, ducking under the paneling. When everything checked out, he stood back up, and shrieked. There, on the floor, in front of the console, was an unconscious Sheppard. Who hadn't been there thirty seconds earlier.
Rodney raced around the console and kneeled down, checking for pulse and breathing. Okay, alive, apparently uninjured, but internal damage was a possibility. No sign of weapons fire, and Rodney was amazed that he remembered everything he'd learned in field camp. He reached over to see if Sheppard would wake up, and pulled back when his eyes began to open.
“Colonel?” he asked hesitantly.
“Rod?” Sheppard answered, looking confused, before shutting his eyes again. “What the hell was that?”
“Rod?” Rodney asked, getting a little worried. “What happened, Colonel? I couldn't get a hold of you on the radio, and then suddenly you're here.”
“Suddenly?” Sheppard asked, cracking one eye again. “I've been here the whole time, Rod. You asked me to turn the console on, and I did, which was a bad idea, might I add. And where did Ronon and Teyla go?”
“Okay, first of all,” Rodney started, trying not to hyperventilate. Breathe, he told himself. “Ronon and Teyla are walking the perimeter, like they have been for the past half hour, even though I said it was a waste of time. Second of all, I wanted you to turn the console on, but you weren't here. And thirdly, why are you calling me Rod? I mean, I'd generally not be opposed to that, seeing as how I tried for several years to get people to call me that, but in your case I think you'd know better. I don't want to be compared to that impostor, ever.”
As Rodney had been talking, Sheppard's eyes had been getting progressively wider and wider, and his breath had been getting shorter and shorter.
“Holy shit,” Sheppard gasped out, and shoved a hand in his pocket, pulling out an emergency inhaler. After two puffs, he put it back, and pulled out a hard leather glasses case. Inside were black-rimmed, thick-lensed glasses, that he proceeded to put on, before squinting hard at Rodney.
“You're not Rod,” he said, matter-of-factly.
“No,” Rodney answered, trying not to freak out. “I would have thought that would have been obvious, Colonel.”
“I'm not a colonel,” Sheppard answered. “I'm a major.”
“Holy shit,” Rodney responded, his own eyes widening. They both looked toward the console.
“This is bad,” Sheppard-but-not-Sheppard said.
“Fuck, yeah,” Rodney answered.
**
Rod was watching the power output grow exponentially when he heard the shout. He turned towards John, but there was nothing but empty space in front of the console.
“Whoa,” Rod said, rushing over to the console. It blinked up at him innocently.
“You okay in there, Rodney?” John's voice came over the radio, sounding way too casual for someone who just disappeared.
“What just happened, Major? Are you all right?” Rod asked,
“I'm fine, Rodney, and it's Colonel. Good grief; I thought we finally got past that. I just felt a sort of a humming thing, like when something in Atlantis gets powered up, and I'd thought I'd check in. Wouldn't want you blowing up any more solar systems by accident.”
Rod blinked. He'd never blown up a solar system. And he was pretty sure Sheppard was not a Colonel, either. There had been several weeks of grumpiness (even more than normal) when he'd been passed over for the promotion. He looked back at the console, trying to see if there was any writing that might explain what it was intended to do. If only Ancient devices came with instruction manuals, he thought.
It was obvious that the man on the other side of the radio was not his John. That left several options: 1.) His John was dead, and this John had been pulled from an alternate universe to take his place. Rod was pretty sure he didn't like that one, but it had to be considered. 2.) His John was somewhere else in the complex, and the transport of this John into his universe was what caused the power surge. Finally, 3.) The two Johns had switched places, and his John was in some other universe where he was a Colonel and Rod was called Rodney and he'd blown up a solar system once.
Option 3 seemed most likely, so Rodney decided to go with that. If his John had been transported too, it might have something to do with the console, and whatever it was John had turned on before disappearing. If they could mimic that, and get this John to do the same thing, maybe they'd be switched back. Of course, it was also possible that the device picked a universe at random, and this John would just be sent somewhere else, as a universe-jumping Sam Beckett. The random thing didn't seem likely, though, given the amount of energy required to bridge two universes, even ones that were close together.. The (extremely limited) information he had about This John's home universe made it sound a lot like the one he'd just escaped from. Could be the device picked the universe with the strongest connection, which would mean he'd already met the John now wandering around outside. Played golf with the guy. Helped him with his curve, had breakfast, sparred. Almost kissed.
Almost, because Rod had been interrupted by Rodney, who had stormed into John's quarters yelling something about Jeannie and children and birthday gifts, and had barely noticed as Rod slipped out behind him. That Sheppard had been so different than his own; so open, so friendly. It almost seemed like he liked Rod back. Not that John didn't like Rod; everyone liked Rod. He was nice, humble, everything you were supposed to be. But still, he couldn't get John to really see him, see past the Canadian persona. He'd gone through a phase of sleeping with anyone who asked, trying to make John jealous, but it hadn't worked. So it had been nice to pretend for a while, even if he'd known all along that Sheppard really wanted his own Rodney. But Rodney, like John, was either oblivious or just not interested. The almost-kiss was a mutual thing; they'd both been pretending.
And now he had that John back. Even better, this Sheppard didn't know that he wasn't Rodney. If he played it right, he could take advantage of the situation before trying to switch the two men back. It wasn't that he didn't want his own John back, but John had been exceptionally mean since Rod's return. Snapping when he used to grin, huffing when he used to shrug. It was wearing on Rod's nerves, and he needed a break. He deserved a break. And damn it, he was going to take one.
“Sorry, Colonel. It was nothing, just a minor power surge. Would you mind coming back in here and helping me with some....things?” Rod tried not to sound too suggestive, but it was hard, considering where his thoughts were.
“Um, okay,” Sheppard responded. “Be right there.”
Rod looked down, trying to figure out what Rodney would be wearing. The belt knife was out, as were the extra 9mil clip holders. He'd started carrying those only recently, and he doubted Rodney would do the same. He threw the extra equipment behind a panel and grabbed his laptop, pasting on a look he hoped passed as frustrated. When Sheppard entered, he glanced up.
“Finally,” he said, trying to sound irritated, but knowing he probably just sounded stupid.
“Yeah, yeah,” Sheppard drawled, perching his hip on a nearby console.
“Please don't do that, Ma—Colonel. You never know what you might activate.” And it would be a shame if he activated the swap before Rod had time to go through with his plan.
Sheppard cocked an eyebrow.
“Please, huh? I guess if you're going to be polite about, I'll try not to turn anything on by accident.”
“Good,” Rod answered, looking away. Years of conditioning himself to be nice were making it hard to play the part. He needed to do something, quick.
“Can you come over here, Colonel? There's a switch that won't respond to me.”
“Sure,” Sheppard answered, sliding over to the control panel where Rod stood. “What do you need?”
“Right here,” Rod pointed at something innocuous, but positioned such that Sheppard would have to reach across Rod's body to get to it.
“Okay,” Sheppard said, and started toward it. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all,” Rod answered, turning to look Sheppard square in the eye. He couldn't help glancing down at his mouth; this Sheppard didn't wear glasses, but he had the same gorgeous lips, and the same all-day stubble. Sheppard's lips parted and Rod heard a short intake of breath.
“Rodney,” Sheppard's voice wobbled. “What are you doing?”
“This,” Rod answered, and pressed his lips to Sheppard's. At first, there was no response, but after a few seconds, he felt Sheppard's mouth moving against his. He opened, encouraging Sheppard's tongue to trace the inside of mouth, and gasped when his unspoken instructions were followed. Sheppard tasted like sweat and mint, and Rod tried not to let it ruin the illusion. His own John, he knew, used a flavorless toothpaste, and sweat was pretty much a foreign concept. He concentrated on the things that were the same, the shape and texture of the lips caressing his, the feel of Sheppard's shoulders under his hands (but John's were thinner, weren't they), and it just wasn't enough. He pulled back, looking at the wild eyes and reddened mouth of someone else's Sheppard, and tried not to throw up. His expression must have given him away, though, because almost immediately Sheppard's eyes filled with hurt, and he nearly ran all the way out.
“Shit,” Rod said. He sat down on the floor in front of the console and tried to figure out how to activate the switch without a Sheppard to help.
**
“So you touched it where?” Rodney demanded.
“Right there, I told you that,” John said, frustrated.
“Well, touch it again!”
“We've tried that already!”
“Well then try it again!”
“What good would that do?”
“More good than you're doing, standing there without a single helpful idea on how to make this work!”
“I'll have you know that I am the most brilliant man in my own Atlantis, and if I can't figure this out, then no one can!”
“Well, then I guess you're going to be stuck here forever, because it doesn't look like you'll be figuring anything out anytime soon!”
John was at his wit's end. Rod had mentioned, in passing, how annoying the Rodney from that other universe had been. Before the shouting started, they'd decided that it was most probable that they were dealing with a device that created a secondary bridge between two previously linked universes, kind of like a Star-69 for a quantum mirror. If they'd been using a quantum mirror, then the machine would have been infinitely useful. But they weren't, and at the moment, John was focused on not killing the man in front of him. Also, not kissing. Because as annoying as the man was, he was also hot. Not as hot as Rod, maybe, with a little more flab around the middle and a little less hair (though that might just be a difference in styling), but still. Definitely hot. And definitely noticing him.
“Rod told me all about you. He said you were conceited, arrogant, and bad with people. You couldn't even keep a relationship with your sister going for more than a week!” John shot back, and then felt bad when he saw a spark of shame in Rodney's eyes.
“He said the same about you, except for the sister part. He didn't even know if you had any siblings, since you never talk about anything but how brilliant you are,” Rodney returned.
John stopped short. Was that what Rod thought of him? Arrogant, bad with people? No wonder he'd have sex with anyone but John. All this time, John just thought that if he pushed a little harder, made Rod take notice, that maybe in the end—but no. He didn't stand a chance.
“Oh,” he finally said, quietly.
“What?” Rodney said, sounding exasperated.
“Nothing, it's just that...well, no, nothing.” John didn't really want to bare his soul in front of this almost-stranger.
“Spit it out, already,” Rodney said, only a little kinder. John looked up at him. Sure enough, Rodney was looking at him, concern apparent in his bright blue eyes, mingled with frustration, anger, and—was that?—a sort of longing. John nodded, but instead of talking, he leaned forward and kissed Rodney.
“Mmph!” Rodney protested, pushing John away. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Oh, like you can't tell,” John rolled his eyes. “I'm kissing you. Maybe it's been so long since someone did that that you can't remember how it goes. Let me remind you. I put my lips to your lips, and we move them a little, and then maybe we open our mouths, and our tongues start to do stuff too.”
“That's the worst description of kissing I've ever heard,” Rodney answered. “And also, I obviously knew what you were doing. What I meant was, why?”
John shrugged.
“I like Rod, but I don't stand a chance with him. You like your John—and don't deny it, I can tell—but I'm pretty sure you're not with him, and also, he's not here right now. So I thought I'd make us both happy. Now, do you want a hand job or a blow job?”
Rodney squawked. “Do I want a--what? What on earth makes you think that this isn't the worst idea in the history of bad ideas?”
John shrugged. “I figure, once we get this fixed, we'll never see each other again, but at least we'll always have—whatever planet this is.”
Rodney rolled his eyes, but John could see that he was seriously considering the offer. He pressed the advantage. Leaning in, he dragged his cheek along Rodney's, whispering, “Come on, let me blow you. I'll make it good. I'll make it so good, you'll never forget it, not even long after I'm gone. Please?” On the last word, he let out a puff of air into Rodney's ear and smiled when he felt a shiver in response.
“I—“ Rodney said, trying to catch his breath. “Yeah, okay.”
John grinned and slid to his knees, shivering himself when he heard Rodney groan. He opened Rodney's BDUs, and shoved his pants and boxers down in one fluid motion, keeping his eyes on the rapidly hardening cock in front of him. It was beautiful, red and thick and soft and everything Rod was. Except this was Rodney, not Rod, but they couldn't be that different, right? He licked a stripe up the underside, eliciting a long gasp.
Rodney's hands found their way to John's hair, and it was easy to pretend that this was his John, his messy-haired Colonel, instead of some glasses-wearing Major from another universe. So easy to stroke the long, ruffled hair, feel the stretch of those beautiful lips around his cock as they moved in harmony with the short, hard strokes of John's hand. John twisted his tongue on the backstrokes, almost causing Rodney's knees to give out, and he knew he was close.
“John, I—“ Rodney groaned out, and the strokes got faster, and the tongue pressed harder and harder until Rodney was coming, so hard and so good and so wrong, because he'd never once called Colonel Sheppard “John,” and he knew he never would now, because he'd always associate “John” with mind-blowing orgasms, and Sheppard would never be a part of that.
“Good?” John asked, licking his lips. Rodney only nodded, holding himself up against the console.
“Do you mind if I—“ John motioned down to his own tented pants, and Rodney shook his head.
“Do you want me to...?” he didn't finish. John shook his head.
“I just want to watch you,” he said, pulling his own cock out of his pants and boxers and giving it a long stroke. Rodney's eyes widened. That's what Sheppard's cock looked like; long and brown and a little to the left, and as perfect as the man himself. He desperately wanted to touch, to taste, but he stopped himself. John didn't want him to, and anyway, it wasn't really Sheppard.
He was beautiful, though, his hazel eyes focused on Rodney's spent cock, mouth open and panting as he pulled himself closer and closer to the edge. Rodney tried not to move, not to blink, tried to memorize the sight in front of him. The glasses broke up the fantasy some, but so much of the man in front of him was the John Sheppard he knew and--loved? It was possible. Rodney wasn't any better at observing his own emotions than anyone else's, so why couldn't he have fallen in love and not even known it? The implications of that hit Rodney like a stunner to the chest, and he fell back against the control panel, just as John began to come. And then John blinked out of existence.
**
Rod was still sitting beside one of the controls, trying to figure out how to fix what he'd obviously just screwed up, when his laptop alarm announced a major power fluctuation. He jumped up and ran for the main panel, the one John had touched before everything went to hell, only to trip over something that hadn't been there before. He did a duck and roll, landing only slightly off-balance, up against a far wall, and turned to look at what had gotten in his way.
The lights were still dimmer than they had been, but he could easily make out the kneeling figure of John--his John, he'd bet Canadian beer on it--staring eye-level at whatever had been there before. Rod's breath caught in his throat when he realized that John's pants were unbuttoned, and his gorgeous cock had been pulled out and was now dripping with what could only be cum. John was panting, and from his spot several yards away, Rod could barely make out the faint "fuck," that came between gasps.
It only took seconds for his awe to turn to jealousy, and then quickly to fury. It had been years since Rod had allowed himself to get truly angry about anything; most things weren't worth the trouble, and it was easier to deal with people when they weren't scared of you or worried about pissing you off. But this--this was beyond.
"What the hell were you doing?" His voice came out harsher than he'd ever heard it, and John's head whipped around, his mouth dropping open in surprise.
"Uh...I, we, I mean..." John seemed frantic, and Rod didn't blame him. He'd be frantic, too, faced with himself like this.
"Let me phrase that differently: who the hell were you doing that with?" Rod was trying to reign in the years of frustration, the hurt and the jealousy, but it was hard. Because he knew the most likely answer to that question, and he hoped to every higher power he was wrong.
"Well, you see, it's like a Star-69 for universes, so--" John began as he quickly tucked himself back in his pants and tidied everything up.
"I know what it did. I asked you who."
"So, we were trying to figure out how to get me back here, and I guess he hit the equivalent of an undo button, because it seemed to work--" John continued as if Rod hadn't spoken, refusing to make eye contact.
Rod had had enough. He stood up and marched over to John, pulling him up by the bicep, and shoved him against a (different; wouldn't want the whole mess to happen again) control panel. John's gasp was audible.
"Is that what you want?" Rod growled. "Is that why you wanted him? Because he's an asshole, an arrogant, pushy bastard who takes what he wants and thinks nothing of others?"
John shook his head, or at least that's what Rod thought he was doing. He was shaking too hard to tell for certain.
"Because I can do that. I tried nice, I tried brave, I've saved your ass more times than I can count, and for what? So you can go jack off with someone who looks like me, sounds like me, but fucking isn't me!"
"But--" John began, trying to piece together words. "He wanted it."
"Oh, he wanted it, so you just gave it to him? Did you let him fuck you, too? Are you that easy? God, I knew you were hot, but I never took you for a slut."
"I'm not," John said quietly. "But he wanted me." He dropped his gaze to the floor, and Rod stopped short.
"He--" Rod began. John couldn't be that stupid. There was no way. Mensa-toting, genius-boasting brilliant John could not possibly be that stupid. "You're an idiot."
John looked up, shocked and hurt. Rod never called people idiots; that was John's territory. Like good cop/bad cop.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, and tried to turn away.
"If Mensa had an emotional IQ section, they never would have let you in," Rod continued, feeling the relief as he finally let himself say exactly what he was thinking. It was glorious. "You must be one of the most emotionally stunted people in all of Atlantis. Possibly the entire Pegasus Galaxy."
John just shrugged, still trying to leave.
"I'm not done yet," Rod said shortly, holding John still. "You didn't have to go to different universe to find someone who wanted you, you know. I'm sure there are people here who do." John shrugged again. "In fact," Rodney continued, "I can name at least one off the top of my head."
John finally turned back to him, face full of scorn.
"Who?" he sneered.
Rod decided not to dignify that with an answer, and instead leaned forward and captured John's lips in a kiss.
**
"Holy shit," Rodney yelled. If this kept up, he was going to have a heart attack and die before they even left the planet. He looked down at his hand, and sure enough, he'd managed to hit something when he leaned back. It had a similar marking to the one John had pointed out, and was on the opposite corner of the panel. Rodney really hoped it was the button for "reverse earlier process" and not the button for "send new guy to another new universe, and leave old guy in new guy's old universe." With the Ancients, you could never tell.
"Colonel?" Rodney tried the radio. There was no response. "Shit."
He decided that the control room would be fine without him for a minute, and walked to the main entrance. He could see Ronon and Teyla just turning the corner around the outside of the ruins, but Sheppard wasn't in sight.
"Colonel Sheppard, are you there?" Rodney tried again.
"What do you want, Rodney?" Sheppard answered. His voice sounded strained.
"Just making sure you're okay," Rodney stumbled through. He hadn't thought about what to say.
"Right," Sheppard answered sarcastically. "I'm peachy keen, McKay. Is that all?"
"Could you come help me with something in the control room?" Rodney really had needed Sheppard to activate something, so it wasn't just an excuse to see him and make sure this really was his Colonel Sheppard.
"Again?" Sheppard asked.
"Oh, boy," Rodney sighed. "Come here and I'll explain."
"Whatever."
Rodney walked back inside and waited. And waited, and waited for about fifteen minutes before Sheppard finally showed up. He looked disheveled (well, more than usual), and not at all like himself. 'Crap,' Rodney thought. 'I hope it's really him.'
"Would you mind explaining to me what you think happened in the past, oh, half hour or so?" Rodney tried to sound casual, testing the waters to see if Sheppard knew about the device.
Sheppard's face instantly turned a shade of red Rodney had never seen before.
"Is this some kind of sick joke, McKay? Cause I'm not laughing."
Rodney sighed. Apparently not.
"Okay, look, Colonel, I don't know what you believe happened, but that panel over there" Rodney pointed "is capable of switching ATA-carriers from one parallel universe to another. And it just did, for about twenty minutes."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Sheppard's face was still red, but he did look slightly less homicidal, which Rodney counted as a good trait for anyone who regularly carried a P90.
"Remember Rod?" Rodney asked, and continued when Sheppard nodded. "His John--well, the John in his universe--activated it a little less than an hour ago. You and he switched places. I accidentally hit the reverse button right before I called you, and you switched back. So whatever happened between then, you were in Rod's universe, not this one."
"That's a load of crap, McKay, and a really shitty excuse. I'd expect better from you," Sheppard said, turning to leave.
"No, really!" Rodney protested. "He was in here, with me, working, trying to figure out how to send him back."
"I thought you said you did it by accident."
"Well, yeah, because we weren't working on it then."
John turned back to face Rodney.
"What were you doing, then?" he challenged.
Rodney blushed.
"Um. Taking a snack break?" Rodney knew he sucked at lying, but he wasn't about to tell the truth.
"Try again," John said wryly.
"Damn it, Colonel," Rodney was getting frustrated. "What the hell happened that you don't believe me?"
John--no, not John, never John--raised an eyebrow.
"You answer my question, truthfully, and I'll answer yours."
Rodney sighed.
"We were--" This was going to be bad. So, so bad. "We were having sex, okay? He was giving me a blowjob and I leaned back onto the panel and hit a button and then you were switched back. Happy now?" Rodney kept his eyes locked on the wall beside him. He was waiting for Sheppard to either leave or punch him, and he didn't particularly want to see either option.
"You were what?" Sheppard yelled.
"Look," Rodney answered, "I'm sorry to offend your very straight, very masculine sensibilities, but John--I mean, John from the other universe--wasn't quite as straight as you. And, well, he asked, and you know you're hot, and who can say no to a blowjob?"
Rodney could see Sheppard slowly moving forward out of the corner of his eye, and braced himself for a punch. When warm breath hit his ear, he nearly jumped out of his skin.
"Was he any good?" Sheppard asked in a low voice.
"He--" Rodney tried to breathe. "He was okay."
"Not your type?" Sheppard continued, breathing down Rodney's jaw line.
"Not that," Rodney struggled to keep control. "He wasn't--"
"Wasn't what?" Sheppard asked as he brought them face to face, staring deep into each others' eyes.
"Wasn't you," Rodney whispered, and then closed the distance between them.
This was right. Sheppard was sweat and frustration and strength and everything Rodney had expected, and several things more. For starters, he was a lot more gay than Rodney had thought, judging by the way his tongue was sliding easily between Rodney's lips. He was also a lot more eager than Rodney had ever dreamed, licking his way back through Rodney's mouth like he only had one chance to learn it forever. When they finally broke for breath, Rodney tried to find his voice.
"You said you'd answer my question," he got out.
John rested their foreheads together and spoke.
"He kissed me, and he hated it," John said quietly. "It makes sense now, I guess, but it didn't then. He wanted me, and then he didn't."
"God, John," Rodney said, before realizing it. John's gaze turned sharp.
"You called me John," he said.
"I did," Rodney smiled. "I figure, if we're going to be kissing and having sex--and there will be sex, won't there? Because there really, really needs to be sex. A lot of it--then I should call you by your first name. If that's okay."
"Yes," John answered. "Yes to all of it." And he leaned forward and captured Rodney's still-moving lips and yeah, this was good. This was really, really good.
[Poll #973914]
heee!
John Sheppard is not John Sheppard if you find his hair has been altered. Or something.
You had me at inhaler.
I'm terrible at guessing, so I'm not going to embarrass myself by trying to do so. Just—thank you, whoever you are! *g*
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Thanks!
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What a grand romp! :-D
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And I always love stories with an AU John - hee, he wears glasses. He must be ultra cute too :)
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