Post-Aurora fic written for
sethoz. who totally blackmailed me into it. Hee. The toast was all nice and good, very sweet and touching and blah blah blah. He didn't really care about any of that.
John Sheppard said he didn't trust him.
Right there, in front of everyone, like he hadn't put his ass on the line to save him more times than just today. No, Sheppard had said, and it had thrown him, even though he'd known exactly what answer he was going to get when he asked.
Sheppard had disappeared after they clinked glasses, looking uncharacteristically upset, but Rodney wasn't going to let it all slide simply because the man was pouting. He knocked impatiently on the door, and was raising his hand to slam it down again when it finally slid open.
John was leaning against the doorway, stripped down to a pair of sweatpants and a thin black t-shirt, but Rodney wasn't going to be distracted by anything; not even that small sliver of skin he could see peeking out from right above the too low-slung pants. "I have a bone to pick with you!" he snapped.
John moved aside and motioned him in. "Wow," he said. "I didn't know people still said that."
Rodney just glared at him, and then pointed at him a little, for added effect. "I'm tired of this whole 'earning your trust back' thing. You need to get over it. I risked my extremely valuable mind to save your sorry ass today."
John was leaning back against the door now, and he opened his mouth to say something, but Rodney cut him off.
"I mean, okay, I made a mistake, but doesn't saving all of Atlantis so many times kind of cancel that out? And anyway, it's not like I wasn't doing anything I wasn't authorized to do. So, just...stop not trusting me, because I can't take it anymore."
Rodney seemed to deflate then, his anger draining away, and he watched John with wide eyes, waiting for him to say something. He waited for about thirty seconds before deciding to move it along. "Well?" Rodney asked.
"Why do you keep talking about my eyes lighting up?" John asked, and his brow was furrowed a little.
Rodney's mouth fell open, and he wondered just what conversation John thought they'd been having. "What?"
"I mean, just how deep are you looking into my eyes anyway?" John asked.
"What are you..." Rodney paused. "I never...I never said that."
"Yes you have," John said. "On Dorandan you said it, and then again this morning."
"I did?" Rodney asked, and despite his resolve to remain focused, he could feel himself getting thrown off-track. "Well, look, that's not even the point!"
"I'm just wondering," John said. "I didn't really think about it all that much the first time, but then you started talking about it again."
"I say that to everybody," Rodney snapped.
"You tell everyone that their eyes light up?" John asked.
"It's an expression!" Rodney shouted defensively.
John tilted his head, watching Rodney like some kind of predator, a wolf in sheep's clothing maybe; he was all wide innocent eyes, and relaxed posture, and a dangerous little smirk that gave him away. "So I shouldn't read into it?" John asked. "I shouldn't wonder about the fact you think you know me well enough that you can see different moods in my eyes?"
"Well, no," Rodney said. "I mean, it's not like your eyes really light up. Which is good, because that would mean you were a Goa'uld, and--"
"Rodney," John interrupted quietly.
"--that's ridiculous. You have absolutely nothing in common with a Goa'uld, unless you count the way you look, they like the pretty ones, you know, but I--"
"Rodney..."
"It's probably a good thing we don't have them here, now that I think about it, I don't think I could cope with you being taken as a host. At least the Wraith don't discriminate on looks, and you're only as likely to be eaten as anyone else--"
John rolled his eyes and stepped forward, sliding his hands into Rodney's hair and catching his neck words with a kiss. Rodney's muffled protest was startled and half-hearted, and he leaned forward into John almost without thinking, his hands wrapping around John's shirt to hold him in place and keep his balance.
When John pulled back to breathe, Rodney glared at him, though he made no move to step away. "Yes, very good with the distraction," he snapped irritably, "but you're not getting out of this with your wiles."
"My wiles?" John echoed, incredulous.
"Nothing is happening here," Rodney snapped. "I have no intention of succumbing to your charms." He paused for a minute, looking thoughtful. "Well, I mean, at least not until I know you trust me again."
"You think I'm trying to seduce you?" John asked, grinning.
"You'd do anything to get out of a serious conversation," Rodney said, "but it's not going to work."
"It was working pretty well, I thought," John said. "You just need to stop talking." John leaned forward to kiss Rodney again, and Rodney held him tighter, even as he broke the kiss.
"Stop that," Rodney said. "We need to resolve this! And I can't think with you...kissing me, like that." He paused, and then stared John in disbelief. "Oh my god, you've been kissing me."
"That's what I like about you, McKay," John said. "You're so quick."
"But..." Rodney said. "You've been kissing me. We don't do that. When did we start kissing?"
"I'm pretty sure we started just a few minutes ago," John said helpfully. "We can start again anytime you'd like."
Rodney used his hold on John's shirt to tug him to the bed, sending them both falling the moment they crashed into it. Rodney knew he was a lost cause, well and truly distracted from his goal, but he couldn't help asking, "Do you trust me?" the first moment John pulled away for air.
John smiled against his mouth, and whispered, "I never really stopped."