The Reverse Of Fascination
Day One
He had to admit that it was a little exciting; Rodney had never been on a cruise before, let alone on a cruise through space. Of course, leaving Atlantis in anyone else's hands for this long made him extremely nervous, but Zelenka had proven himself competent, and Rodney was certain he and Teyla wouldn't let anyone break anything while they were gone.
And if they did, it had better be fixed by the time the senior staff got back, or having the life sucked out of them by a Wraith would be the least of their worries.
"This is gonna be great!" Sheppard crowed, rubbing his hands together. "It'll be like a vacation. A little cruise around the galaxy on our way back home. It's just too bad they don't have beer there."
"Or bacon," Rodney said.
"Or egg rolls," Sheppard said. "Pizza."
Rodney rubbed his belly absently. "Microwave dinners."
Sheppard looked at him suspiciously. "Football."
"Cheerleaders," Rodney said, but secretly he was also thinking of hockey, although apparently the Americans hadn't had any hockey either while he'd been gone, and that had made him feel much better.
Sheppard's suspicious look returned to one of appreciation. "Chocolate."
Bouncing slightly on his heels, Rodney said, "You know, I never thought I would say this, but I actually enjoyed shopping." His team had given him a list. A very long list of urgently needed items, 99% of which were completely understandable and necessary, and the remaining one percent Rodney figured would make for excellent blackmail material in the future.
"Me, I enjoyed driving a car again," Sheppard said. "Anything with a steering wheel that I don't have to turn on with my mind."
"I enjoyed seeing my mum," Carson said, coming up behind them in the dimly-lit corridor. He had a beatific expression on his face. "Nothing like a home-cooked meal, eh, lads?"
Rodney and Sheppard looked at each other sideways, and then kept going. "Ice cream," Rodney said.
"Popcorn," Sheppard agreed.
"Hot showers," Rodney almost moaned. "Oh, the hot showers."
"Man, TV."
"Ooh," Rodney said, "there was new Dr. Who!"
"And a new Batman movie! Did you see it?" Sheppard asked.
"No, no," Rodney said. "I mean, we were there for how long, and I got off the base maybe twice?"
Sheppard rolled his eyes. "Rodney, even with my duties as a Lieutenant Colonel, I managed to leave the base more than that."
"Yes, and you can stop mentioning that any time now," Rodney told him.
"Mentioning what?" Sheppard asked.
"You're hopeless," Rodney said.
Day Two
"Aliens who look like us, sure. But freaky little green men?" Sheppard was saying.
"How speciesist of you," Rodney said, because honestly, after the Wraith, he thought Sheppard should be used to the creepy alien thing by now.
Sheppard paused momentarily in the corridor. "I'm not letting you use that word in Scrabble."
Rodney snorted. "Oh, like I need the help. How about 'xenophobia'?"
Sheppard put his hand on Rodney's shoulder and peered around the hatchway at Hermiod, who no doubt was peering right back just to mess with him. "But seriously, isn't this a little weird to you?"
"Not really," Rodney said. "I've been doing this for a long time, Major."
"Colonel."
"Whatever." Rodney resumed walking.
Sheppard jogged to catch up. "I just want to know how my life became like the X-Files without me realizing it. Are there any flukeworms you're not telling me about? We've already got the vampires and the undercover Amish people and the parasites covered. What's next? Rain of frogs?" Sheppard turned around in the corridor, walking backwards. "Is there any wood I can knock on? I think I just jinxed myself.
Rodney stopped walking abruptly. "Oh. You're having the alien freak-out now because our lives aren't in danger roughly every five seconds."
"And your point is?" Sheppard asked, unconcerned.
"Huh," Rodney said. "I don't seem to have one."
Sheppard pointed at him suddenly. "Werewolves."
"We're in the middle of an ocean," Rodney pointed out.
Sheppard thought about it. "Werefish?"
And now that Rodney was thinking about it, he hardly could stop. "Do you think Atlantis has sharks?"
Sheppard grinned as if Rodney had handed him a new Ancient toy. "We could drop some chum off the east pier and see."
"Said like a person who would get in a shark cage for fun."
"Yeah," Sheppard said. "So?"
Rodney explained patiently. "Normal people don't do that."
"And you're normal?" he asked.
"God, no," Rodney said. "Allow me to rephrase: people who aren't insane adrenaline junkies don't get in shark cages for fun."
"Thank you, Mr. Obvious," Sheppard said as he got in line for food. Somehow, they'd ended up in the mess hall, but Rodney wasn't exactly going to complain, as his stomach was already doing it for him.
"Ooh," Rodney said after a moment, poking Sheppard in the back with his tray. "Bermuda Triangle!"
Sheppard smiled down at the soupy mashed potatoes. "Alligator man."
"The Loch Ness monster."
"Now you're reaching," Sheppard said.
Day Three
"You got any cool games on your computer?" Sheppard asked, leaning over Rodney's shoulder.
"What? No," Rodney said, typing furiously.
"C'mon," Sheppard wheedled. "You can share with me. I won't tell anybody what you've got on there."
"No, seriously, I don't," he said absently. "When we thought we were going to have to abandon Atlantis, Radek wiped all non-essential programs and data from our machines in order to store as much of the Ancient database as he could. And you know," Rodney said, turning around finally, "I'm not really missing Minesweeper as much as I thought I would."
He could have restored everything whenever he wanted, of course, but his personal machine had survived intact, and Rodney had found he liked having minimal distractions available on his work box.
Sheppard, however, looked like a kid who'd received an apple and a toothbrush on Halloween instead of a Snickers bar. "Oh. Right. Well, then."
Sheppard tapped his fingers on Rodney's console and looked off into the distance. Rodney felt the thousand-yard stare was much more impressive when Sheppard was staring at the vast horizon of an ocean planet rather than at a junction box aboard the Daedalus, but he managed not to say so. Mostly because he suddenly realized --
"Oh my god. You didn't even bring your book, did you?" Rodney asked, crossing his arms smugly.
"There's plenty of stuff to do on Earth that we can't do back home," Sheppard said. "I didn't want to waste it."
"Waste it?" Rodney exclaimed. "Okay, well, you could have bought other books to read. Plenty of bookstores on Earth."
Sheppard squinted at him. "I don't like starting a new book until I finish the one I'm already reading."
"Freak," Rodney said.
"I prefer to think that I'm focused," Sheppard said.
"You would," Rodney said. "You've been reading that book for how long? Don't you want to know how it ends?"
"I have a schedule," Sheppard insisted.
"Obsess-ive compul-sive," Rodney sang under his breath.
"We've been on Atlantis for a year," Sheppard said. "This trip is only eighteen days. I thought it would be a piece of cake!"
"Oh, it is," Rodney chortled. "Only for some people it's a piece of lemon cake."
"Fine. Maybe I'll just go entertain myself elsewhere," Sheppard said.
Rodney returned his attention to his laptop. "Good luck with that."
Day Four
Tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap. Tap.
"Is that Morse code for 'I forgot to pack any form of recreation for a two-and-a-half week trip in an enclosed space', Major?"
Sheppard looked up as Rodney sat at his table and put down his tray of food. He looked at the fork in his hand and then back at Rodney, and said, "No, it's a simple distress signal. See, there I was in the mess, minding my own business, and this asshole suddenly sat down at my table. Oh, hey there, Rodney."
"Ha ha," Rodney said dryly, and ate a forkful of scrambled eggs.
"By the way, it's 'Colonel', now." Sheppard watched him. "And the eggs are rubbery."
"Mm," he hummed. "Perfect."
Sheppard made a face, and it was the face people make when they discover something funky growing in a container in the back of the refrigerator. "That will never stop being disgusting."
"More for me," Rodney said, draining half his coffee cup. Solid food in his belly calmed the queasiness he almost always woke up with, and the first hit of caffeine began easing his withdrawal headache. Rodney hummed again happily. The best part about cruising through space was that there were no waves, and no waves meant no Dramamine.
Sheppard was grinning at him. "Every morning you're like a cranky caterpillar turning into a grumpy butterfly."
Rodney scowled but didn't respond verbally, as his mouth was full of soggy toast. He responded with a finger instead.
"Oh, don't be like that," Sheppard said, still grinning. He leaned on his elbows and ran his fingertip around the mouth of his juice cup. "It's cute, like I can see the moment when your brain switches on."
"Yes, this is all very fun," Rodney said as he finally finished chewing. "But tormenting me is not an acceptable form of entertainment, Major."
"Colonel." The smile dropped from his face. "And just how are you going to stop me?"
"There are security cameras on the 302s," Rodney said, hedging a bet. It would only be a bluff if he believed Sheppard was a carefree exhibitionist at heart, and although that would be nice, Rodney didn't think he was that lucky. But it was likely that Sheppard had been in the bay doing something he technically shouldn't. Actually, it was pretty much a sure thing.
"Fine," Sheppard said after only a moment, poking his fork into the pile of hash browns on his plate.
Sheppard caving so easily was worrisome, because that meant he was already planning a new avenue of attack. The fact that he was remarkably persistent and inventive made him a valuable asset when they were out in the field, and utterly aggravating during down time. He even got to calm, little Zelenka, who'd stomped into Rodney's lab one day with his hands clenched in his hair, and said, "I cannot run diagnostics on the jumper. The Major is always there fiddling!"
"Kick him out," Rodney had suggested.
Zelenka had stared at him balefully. "I tried. Three times."
Rodney had stopped typing in order to think strategy. "Wait until he gets hungry?"
Zelenka had snapped his fingers and charged out the door almost before Rodney finished his sentence, so Rodney hadn't been able to mention that sometimes Sheppard liked to bring a sandwich back to the jumper bay in order to keep playing. But as he wanted the results of the diagnostic and knew that Sheppard would linger if he had dinner companions, Rodney manfully had made himself get a snack for the good of his science team.
Day Seven
Rodney woke to find Sheppard looming over his bunk. "What? What is it?"
"Rodney," Sheppard said, his face intent and serious, which meant they were probably all going to die shortly if everything held true to form. "I am very, deeply, painfully bored."
He dropped his head back onto his pillow with a thump and sighed loudly. "What do you expect me to do about it?"
Sheppard grasped Rodney's shoulders. "Listen carefully, because I will never say this again: Rodney, please give me something to do."
"No," Rodney said.
"Please?" he asked.
"I said no."
"Pretty please?"
Rodney wiggled. Sheppard's grip seemed to be getting a little tighter, and was now closing in on actively painful. "What could I possibly give you to do? It's the middle of the night. Go to sleep!"
Sheppard smiled and raised his eyebrows. "Pretty please with sugar on top?"
Rodney sighed again. "You're not hearing a word I'm saying."
"No, you're not hearing a word I'm saying." Sheppard leaned in until they were nose-to-nose. "If I don't find something to do, I will go insane and I will take you with me."
"Okay," Rodney said, wide-eyed. "Um. Cards?"
"No way. I've been playing Solitaire for the last three days. I'm sick of cards."
"I have a book," he offered, pointing at his desk.
Sheppard glanced at the cover and then gave him a sour look. "And how would reading a book about theoretical physics make me less bored?"
"I Spy?" Rodney suggested weakly.
"You can do better than that, Rodney. Aren't you supposed to be a genius?"
"Hey," he said suddenly as his brain slowly caught up with the rest of him. "How'd you get in my room, anyway? The door locks automatically."
Sheppard looked contrite for approximately 2.5 seconds. "I was bored?"
Rodney gaped at him. Sheppard's usual way of dealing with an inconveniently locked door was to shoot it with a very large gun, and if a severe case of boredom was all it took get him hacking electronics, then Rodney was tempted to toss the man into a sensory deprivation chamber and run a battery of experiments. Who knew what they could accomplish after only a few short weeks, especially with the Ancient technology?
It was too bad that Elizabeth would never sign off on such a project. Maybe if he asked nicely?
"Dr. McKay?" a voice said over the intercom. "If it's all right, Hermiod would like to --"
"I'll be right there!" Rodney called. He slithered out from underneath Sheppard and made a break for the door.
"You keep thinking," Sheppard said from his sprawl on Rodney's bed. "I'll just wait right here."
Day Eight
Countless interminable hours later and still grumbling under his breath about aliens with superiority complexes, Rodney finally went back to his room. He was through the doorway and halfway across the tiny living space when he realized that Sheppard was still sitting there on his bed, and that his smile was full of teeth.
Rodney turned on his heel and walked back out.
"Oh my god, Carson, you have to help me," Rodney said, bursting into the infirmary and clutching at Beckett's lab coat.
"Rodney!" Carson exclaimed. The medical journal he'd been reading slithered from his lap. "What on Earth?"
"Is there such a thing as space dementia?" Rodney asked. "Because if so, I think the Major's got it."
"No," Carson said slowly, drawing out the word as it thought it over. "No, I don't think so. Not unless you're thinking of scurvy, perhaps? And while it's true that in the past astronauts lost calcium during space flight, I hardly think that would lead to a loss of mental faculties in such a short period of time."
"You're surprisingly unhelpful," Rodney said, letting go of him in order to pace.
"What's this all about?" Carson asked, looking concerned.
"Nothing, never mind," Rodney said.
And perhaps Carson was as bored as the rest of them, because he kept prodding. "Is Colonel Sheppard feeling unwell?"
"No, but he will be if he doesn't leave me alone!" Rodney said.
"Well," Carson said, smiling indulgently. "I'm afraid I don't have a prophylactic for that."
"Wait, wait," Rodney said, snapping his fingers. "What about a sedative?"
Carson didn't need to vocalize his disapproval; he was like a heavy cloud on parade day. "Rodney."
"Oh, come on," Rodney snapped. "You mean he hasn't been pestering you?"
"He came by a few days ago," Carson said, scratching at his beard. "I gave him my extra book of crossword puzzles."
"So that's where he was," Rodney muttered to himself, and then perked up. "Do you have more?"
Carson shrugged apologetically. "Sorry. I only brought the two, and I finished mine yesterday."
Rodney flung his hands in the air. "What is wrong with you people? Don't you know how to entertain yourselves?"
Carson raised an eyebrow. "Hmm."
"What?" he demanded.
"Are you sure you're feeling all right, Rodney?" Carson asked.
"Got any Valium?" Rodney asked.
"No," Carson said firmly.
"Then I'm leaving," Rodney said.
Day Nine
The Daedalus was big, huge, enormous -- but not infinite -- and Sheppard proved annoyingly talented at tracking the wild Rodney through its corridors. All it took was a charming grin and the civilian techs were eating out of his hand... and pointing out that Dr. McKay was hiding underneath that navigation console right over there. Betrayed, Rodney climbed out and brushed himself off, following reluctantly when Sheppard took him by the arm.
"We could explore the ship," Rodney suggested, opening the door to his quarters.
Sheppard grimaced. "I've done that three times already."
Of course he had. So had Rodney, actually, because they were on a space ship and it was incredibly cool. He'd poked into its every nook and cranny, and certain people were already wincing when they saw him coming. It was a delight, really; it had been weeks since he'd cowed his own people into submission, and he'd worried that his skills would get rusty since new recruits were notoriously easier to break. But now that he knew they'd give him up to any charming officer who walked by, he figured that they deserved whatever humiliation he could heap upon them.
"I only have one idea left," Rodney said, because the situation was dire. It was desperate. It was this, or Rock Paper Scissors, and he didn't have a handy copy of the official strategy guide.
"Hit me," Sheppard said.
Rodney hesitated. "You're not going to like it."
Sheppard frowned. "Well, I might."
"No," Rodney said, laughing a little too loudly. His palms were sweaty with nerves. "I'm pretty certain you won't."
"You won't know until you try," Sheppard said, his lower lip pushed out in determination. "Let's do it."
"Okay," Rodney said, and kissed him. It was awkward at first; their noses bumped, and Sheppard's mouth was closed, and also he seemed to be frozen. Rodney had his eyes shut, waiting for an explosion that never came. Instead, Sheppard took a breath, and then another, and then they were kissing for real, Sheppard's tongue stroking into his mouth and warm breath on his cheek. Rodney put his hand on Sheppard's nape and pushed his fingers up to touch his hair. It was soft. Sheppard hooked his fingers in Rodney's jacket pocket and tugged him closer, his teeth closing on Rodney's lower lip for a moment.
"Mmm -- wait," Sheppard said, his mouth brushing against Rodney's right before he pushed him away.
Rodney blinked, dazed. His mouth tingled. "What? Oh, right, sorry."
"No, I mean, what was that?" Sheppard demanded.
Rodney shrugged and wished they were in Sheppard's room, because at least then he could flee without looking idiotic. "That was my idea."
"What, so you're only doing this to distract me?" he asked, forehead wrinkling as if he had a problem with that, and Rodney couldn't imagine why.
"Well, no," Rodney said, compulsively honest. "I do want to have sex with you."
Because he did want to -- had wanted to from day one, and even more so after he discovered that John Sheppard had a brain under all that hair -- but it just wasn't something he did with military guys, not unless they made the first move. And none of them had, not that Rodney felt it was a great loss; physicists were a surprisingly promiscuous bunch.
"So why..." Sheppard said, shrugging and making a helpless flailing motion with his hand.
Unfortunately, Rodney had no idea what Sheppard meant. "Why what?"
"Oh, forget it," Sheppard said, and kissed him again. He backed Rodney toward his bed, hands cupping his face.
"Um," Rodney said vaguely. He didn't want to stop, but this also hadn't factored into his plans.
"You thought I wouldn't like this?" Sheppard asked, his voice soft.
"Until now, there didn't seem to be any evidence to indicate otherwise," Rodney said.
"Well, you were wrong," Sheppard said smugly, and pushed him onto the bed.
"I'll commit hara-kiri in the morning," Rodney said as Sheppard climbed over him. They had an awkward moment where they sorted out their elbows and knees, and then Sheppard was on top of him, heavy and smiling. His heart fluttered in his throat, and Rodney idly wondered if he had any power bars stashed in his desk, because his blood sugar seemed like it was bottoming out.
"I don't think that'll be necessary," Sheppard said. He leaned on his elbows and kissed Rodney again. He smelled strangely good, like coffee and exhaust, and aftershave, which they didn't have back home anymore. Rodney wrapped his arms around Sheppard's middle and ran his palms down his back, stopping when he felt bare skin where his T-shirt rode up at the small of his back. Skin-to-skin made Sheppard push his tongue into Rodney's mouth eagerly, so Rodney happily shoved both hands up his shirt.
Sheppard was lean but solid, and was just -- he was very pretty, and what they were doing right now was highly enjoyable, but -- "Are we going to get naked, ever?"
"Well, I was kind hoping to --" Sheppard broke off when Rodney kissed his neck. "Keep doing this for a --"
Intrigued, Rodney licked his neck again and went back for more with his teeth. Sheppard groaned and thrust with his hips; he was hard, and Rodney thought that if he could bottle this feeling and sell it on eBay, he'd be set for life.
But that would mean sharing, and he wasn't always good at that. Or hardly ever. Or at all.
"Off," Rodney said.
"Yeah, okay," Sheppard said, sitting up. He unzipped his jacket and dumped it over the side of the bed, tossing his T-shirt after it. His dog tags jingled. Rodney touched his stomach and then slid his hand up Sheppard's side. Sheppard made a stifled noise and shied away, but then he took Rodney's hands and put them on his ass, and not shockingly Rodney was just fine with that. Sheppard pushed up Rodney's shirt, thumbed at his nipples, and then leaned down and bit one.
"Oh my god," Rodney said, his hips lurching up.
Sheppard laughed and rode it out. "Like that, huh?"
"Shut up," Rodney said, breathing hard, and thinking, yes, yes, do that again, you bastard.
"'kay," Sheppard said. He scratched Rodney's nipple with his blunt fingernails and then kissed him again. Their teeth clacked together a little until Sheppard turned his head and rubbed Rodney's dick through his pants. It had been a long time -- longer than, well, between the massive amounts of work and the crises -- god, Rodney wanted to come with someone else touching him.
"Sheppard," Rodney said. "John."
"Yeah," Sheppard said, his voice a little hoarse. He sat back just enough to get his pants open, and Rodney unzipped his own, determined even though his hands were shaking a little. He shoved his pants and his boxers down just in time, because then Sheppard was on him again. The first thrust was at a bad angle, but then Rodney planted his feet and put his hands back on the warm skin of Sheppard's ass, and then it was good. Good-good-fantastic.
Sheppard's eyes were dark and his mouth was soft and red, and he was kissing Rodney again, breathing hard through his nose and his hair damp at his temples. Rodney closed his eyes and then opened them again, because he wanted to watch this. Wanted to see. Sheppard wasn't looking away either, and that was really just --
Sheppard pushed his face against Rodney's neck and then came on his belly. Rodney put his hand on Sheppard's nape and ran a hand down his back, and decided to give John at least thirty seconds before he started bitching.
It ended up being more like forty-one seconds, but then Sheppard shuddered and slid sideways, and grasped Rodney's dick. He stroked once or twice and then paused to lick his palm, which had Rodney making a guttural noise in his throat.
"Come on," Sheppard whispered in his ear, jerking him off hard and fast. Sheppard nuzzled his earlobe and licked his neck, and the happy hum he felt vibrating against his throat made Rodney gasp and close his eyes and come. Sheppard patted his chest and slid over just a little, still close enough that their arms were pressed against each other.
Rodney's shirt was bunched up under his arms, and he thought there might have been something important in his pants pocket, but he couldn't be bothered to recall just now.
Day Ten
Sheppard was gone when Rodney woke up, which was both expected and a relief, because conversations with coworkers the morning after always seemed to go better when he had his clothes on and coffee in his system. Sheppard had been showing up daily -- several times a day, actually -- to fiddle with equipment he knew nothing about and to get in Rodney's way, but he was conspicuously absent this morning. He had a petty urge to hunt down Sheppard just to get some small revenge, but Rodney could be the bigger man if it meant putting off an uncomfortable about-last-night conversation.
Eventually Rodney got tired of watching for him to show up, and just got on with his day of rushing around and fixing things other people had broken, and then yelling at them for breaking those things. By the time afternoon rolled around, Rodney had a headache and his nerves were shot, and he'd just threatened to rip a tech's arm off and beat him with it, and that's when he realized he probably should eat something.
Luck was on his side. When he got to the mess, only a handful of people were there, and none of them were John Sheppard. But Lady Luck was notoriously fickle, and Sheppard waltzed in after only five minutes of peace and quiet.
Sheppard grabbed a turkey sandwich and an apple and sat down across from Rodney, looking serene and well rested, which made Rodney want to kick him.
"Hi," Sheppard said.
"Hi," Rodney said, and tried to pretend that he didn't know what Sheppard looked like naked.
"What've you been up to this morning?"
"Nothing!" Rodney said. He straightened his spine.
Sheppard slouched and raised an eyebrow. "Did you make anyone cry?"
"No," he said automatically. "Well, yes, one, but tears of humiliation are nothing compared to what he would have done to the communications system if I hadn't stopped him."
"Some days it just isn't worth getting out of bed," Sheppard said.
Rodney choked on his mashed potatoes. Sheppard ate his apple. The silence lasted approximately a decade.
"Well, this is awkward," Rodney said finally, jabbing his fork into his mystery meat.
"Really?" Sheppard asked. He bit into his sandwich and chewed for a moment. "Doesn't feel awkward to me."
Rodney narrowed his eyes and jabbed at the mystery meat again. "How nice for you."
"I mean," Sheppard continued, waving the sandwich and scattering iceberg lettuce on the table, "I am kinda bored, though."
"Bored," Rodney said. He didn't want to hope, but he felt a panicky little thread of it in his chest anyway. "Already?"
A group of people sat down at the other end of their table, well within earshot.
"Yeah. About that book you were going to loan me," Sheppard said.
"Oh," Rodney said, playing along, or at least trying to. "It's -- I've got it in my room."
"Okay," Sheppard said, standing up and stretching his back. His smile was lazy. "Meet you there in ten."
Rodney watched Sheppard walk away. "Well, that was... huh."
He looked at his plate and then back at the doorway. Sex or food? He glanced at his watch and thought that if he hurried, he could have both.