FIC: What Sheppard Thinks (R'ish)

Title: What Sheppard Thinks
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay
Rating: R'ish
Spoilers: Home
Disclaimer: I'm a liar, liar, pants on fire (not mine, no $)
Archive: Sure, feel free.

Notes: I wrote this for coreopsis because she was having a bad day. About a month ago. What can I say, I'm slow. Thanks to the great beta from sinden - however, I couldn't leave well enough alone, so any/all mistakes are mine. Comments welcome.


What Sheppard Thinks
by Nemoinis


Sheppard thought Rodney was the most annoying human being in the galaxy - Pegasus or otherwise - from the moment he met him, so he knew without a doubt they'd never be buddies. Which made Sheppard's very short list of potential friend material even shorter. It wasn't that John didn't like scientists, it was that Rodney was, well, Rodney. Who was sarcastic and bitter and, God, don't even get him started on the entire ego thing.

McKay was definitely not the kind of guy that sat on your couch and helped down a six-pack while the Packers played and he didn't seem the type to join the weekly poker game or help you fix your roof either. He was absolutely the last person you'd call when you were drunk and wanted to ramble about all the guys that you couldn't go back and save.

So imagine John's surprise when Friday night found him and McKay lounging around the makeshift tv room, drinking something the Athosians passed off as liquor - which, he should note, didn't actually have any alcohol in it but he figured that they weren't really in any position to complain.

It had been a hard mission for the team (with the exception of Teyla, who seemed to enjoy her shopping spree) - believing they were home, seeing people they thought they might never get to see again. It wasn't fair that Jake and Billy had suddenly been sitting in his imaginary living room, drinking his imaginary beer and pretending they hadn't died so recently that John still dreamed about them.

John wasn't sure when he started crying, but he was and Rodney just happened to be there to pat him awkwardly on the back, which seemed okay because it was an awkward kind of moment and John was suddenly really, really glad it was McKay. He knew Ford would have gone for Beckett, Weir or Teyla would have done something girly and sensitive but Rodney just put up with it for about 30 seconds before pushing him away.

"Let's play chess," he said and sat John down at the table and proceeded to ignore John's red eyes and nose, calling checkmate in less than ten minutes. "Tell me the truth, Major, have you ever actually *seen* this game played?"

John didn't win the next game either, but it took almost an hour to lose and he felt better. Turned out that Rodney was still an annoying guy but he knew a straight flush was better than a full house, even if he didn't care for football and bitched all the time.

John guessed it was a start.

***

Sheppard thought Rodney was clueless when it came to sex, because Rodney never eyed any of the local women they met, not even on the planet where they all went topless and liked to give up close and personal hugs. It was a very, very good planet, regardless of what Teyla said. In fact, Ford thought they should check back every week or so; John thought it was a fabulous idea, maybe they should start some sort of down time rotation. McKay just wanted to check out the power readings in the temple because something spiked and it was all very suspicious and blah, blah, blah.

Which led John to the broad conclusion that genius geeks weren't very good in bed because they were probably all virgins with no imagination and certainly no grace. He'd bet a month's pay that Rodney talked constantly during sex because the man never shut up about *this* hidden chamber and *that* Wraith technology and how half naked women were bad, bad, bad and everyone knew how Canadians were. (Actually, John didn't know how they were, but felt it summed up his argument nicely.)

So imagine John's surprise when he found himself pressed against a empty corridor wall because McKay was much stronger than he appeared. They were on their way to see Beckett because it just so happened that bare breasts were apparently connected to Wraith supporters (what kind of fucked up galaxy was this, John wanted to know) and they'd only gotten out by the skin of their teeth and a few flesh wounds. Very small flesh wounds that really shouldn't count as actual injuries. Which really didn't explain why McKay was fumbling with John's belt and then suddenly down on his knees with John's dick buried in his throat while he yanked at Rodney's hair because, Christ, it felt like Rodney was trying to swallow his spine.

Later, he got to brush aside Dr. Beckett's questions about the abrasions on his hips, which had come from being pressed too hard against the edge of a table in some deserted lab and to lie about how they got lost on one of the unexplored city levels and boy, wasn't it late and he was going to turn in.

"Coming, McKay?"

For once, Rodney didn't argue.

Turned out that John totally called the talking thing, but since it mostly consisted of John's name and painfully hot descriptions of all the things Rodney was going to do to him after he got finished with what he was currently doing to John, John decided it was something he could easily overlook. Particularly since everything Rodney said seemed to involve John's dick in some fabulous way. Also, it should be noted that John was really, really wrong and some genius geeks were so obviously not virgins and had extremely active (and filthy) imaginations, at least that's what he thought while wearing nothing but his vest and dogtags with his knees pulled to his chest and Rodney's tongue and fingers busily acquainting themselves with his ass.

John guessed Rodney just wasn't much of a breast man.

***

Sheppard thought Rodney wasn't very lovable. Well, that wasn't exactly it, it was more that John wasn't falling in love. Even when the days turned into weeks, then months and they'd been in Atlantis for almost two years and John woke up, more often than not, tucked behind McKay in mostly shared quarters, he never thought about love. Although to be fair, he didn't really know what love felt like, but he assumed there would be something hokey like doves and rainbows and be really sickly sweet. It wouldn't be arguing about everything and being bitter and sarcastic and never, ever doing what you were told because your sole purpose in life seemed to be as big a pain in the ass as humanly possible plus pi to infinity and that was all before Rodney's first cup of coffee.

So John was certain there wasn't any love. Sure, they ate together and spent their free time together and had sex until they couldn't walk, but that didn't mean anything. And if one of them was working late and and the other took him something to eat, who's to say it wasn't just because they were good friends? He did those sorts of things with Ford all the time.

Except the sex, because he wasn't the cheating kind (most definitely not because he could barely keep up with Rodney on some days). And he'd never actually brought Ford any food because the man's legs weren't broken and truthfully, he saw enough of the Lieutenant during the day that they didn't really need to see each other when they weren't on duty. But, he remembered, Ford had brought him a sandwich once and he *knew* it didn't mean they were in love because, come on, Ford? He was too friendly, too obedient, too cute, way too military and damn near perfect in every single way that Rodney wasn't and never would be. And if John wasn't falling for that, then Rodney didn't stand a chance.

So imagine John's surprise when he found himself napping with Rodney. Not that napping would normally be a surprise (and John used the word nap in the loosest possible sense of the word because it had little to do with sleep) because they napped every free afternoon they had, but this time (and this was the surprising part), this time there was actual napping going on, with t-shirts and boxers and socks and no nudity, all tucked under a rumpled military issue blanket.

It was cold and grey outside and they'd been up almost every night for the past week with a new gadget and it felt good just to lie there in the semi-darkness and not think about Ancient technology or Wraith hives or anything remotely un-nap-worthy. Plus, Rodney was really warm and making the weird humming noise he always made when he was mostly dozing and just starting to slip into sleep and the spot under his right ear smelled like the chocolate chip granola bars he was constantly eating. Maybe, John imagined, even a little bit like himself and he kinda liked that. A lot, as it turned out. And he had for a long time.

There weren't any warnings in the shapes of doves or rainbows and it wasn't particularly sickly sweet and before he knew it the words were bubbling in his throat but he couldn't just blurt it out, not to the back of Rodney's head, but he wasn't sure he could say to his face either, so he just squeezed Rodney instead.

"Rodney," he said, but Rodney rolled over and told him to shut up and John did, but only because Rodney kissed him. Rodney tasted sleepy and grumpy, like too much coffee without enough sugar and he pushed John onto his back with more kisses.

"I love you," John managed to get out between breaths and he was wrong before. It was easy to say it to Rodney's face, with his crooked smile and rumpled hair and vaguely irritated expression that John knew didn't always mean what it appeared to be.

"I know," Rodney said and kissed him again. "Do you?"

John guessed he did.