Are You Happy Now?

by Kass

Notes:
I felt "Sanctuary" (S1 x 14) deserved something of an epilogue. So I wrote one. Many thanks to Lamardeuse for beta!

Rodney found John on a balcony, staring moodily at the ocean. Dramatic, but under the circumstances he supposed he couldn't really throw stones.

"Look. I think my concern was entirely reasonable, especially inasmuch as it turned out she wasn't what she said she was, there was definitely some deception there, but --"

John didn't move and his face didn't change, but Rodney felt the tension building. Hastily he amended that train of thought; it hadn't been how he meant to open anyway. "The point is, I'm sorry I scotched your intergalactic romance."

John turned toward him a little, at that. "Intergalactic romance?" He made the words sound ridiculous.

"You were obviously into each other." This time he had the good sense not to make the explicit comparison to Captain Kirk. Though John probably wasn't as offended by that as Rodney had secretly meant for him to be.

"Yeah, but it wasn't about her being from another galaxy, I just --" John's shoulders slumped a little. "Liked her."

"I know." Rodney made an abortive move toward John's shoulderblade, as if to pat him on the back, but chickened out. For a moment they both stared out at the changing sea.

"If you liked her too, you should have said something."

Rodney laughed, a little more bitterly than he meant to. "Which would have made a difference how?"

John shrugged a little. "I didn't want to rub your nose in it."

And then Rodney's good sense short-circuited and he kept talking. "And is that really what you think this is about? Me being into her?"

"Excuse me for not knowing your type, McKay, it's not like --"

"I don't have a type. And you're incredibly dense sometimes." Abruptly Rodney turned away. "Good night, Major."

He walked back inside at what he hoped was a normal pace, but his heart was pounding. He'd almost let slip the real reason this whole episode had gotten him so wrought-up. Good thing Sheppard really was pretty dense, at least where this was concerned.

Exhaustion washed over him like a wave. It was time for bed.


Rodney was standing in the middle of the room in a pair of sweatpants, trying to decide which of his treasured books to reread, when the door slid open and Sheppard stalked in.

"Hey! Ever heard of knocking, and by the way, that door isn't supposed to just let you in --"

John walked right up to him, way too close. Rodney took a breath and resolutely didn't move.

"First of all, I'm not dense," John said, very calmly and quietly. He smelled like toothpaste, which shouldn't have been a turn-on but it was. "And you weren't jealous because I was getting it on with an Ancient; you were jealous because she was getting it on with me."

"I didn't say anything about getting it on," Rodney began, then stopped. There was something in John's eyes he couldn't name -- it wasn't anger, exactly; there might have been some amusement there, or some hope, or maybe Rodney was just deluding himself. Didn't matter; he wasn't going to be defensive about this again. "Yes. Okay? You figured me out."

The admission took all of the energy out of him and he felt his posture sag. "And I'm sorry about that, too. Happy now?"

He turned toward his bed, already cataloguing the likely repercussions of that little admission. Sheppard was pissed, but he was a good guy -- Rodney wouldn't have fallen for him if he weren't -- so it seemed unlikely that he would give Rodney a hard time about this. He'd probably never mention it again.

Possibly he might say something to Elizabeth, though -- would she want Rodney reassigned? She couldn't do that; he was integral to the team! Oh, God, it would be fine as long as nobody told Ford. He'd endured too much teasing from guys like Ford --

"You idiot," John said, fondly, and turned Rodney around, and kissed him.

It didn't feel like a pity kiss. Rodney knew what those were like, and they didn't generally involve plastering your whole body up against the other guy and cupping the back of his head with your hand. Sheppard's thumb stroking the back of his neck turned some kind of switch, like every part of his body had suddenly become an erogenous zone, and Rodney broke away breathing hard.

"Personally I think you're nuts," John said, conversationally, shrugging out of his vest and tugging his shirt over his head -- a move which, if it had been calculated to overwhelm Rodney with the longing to run his hands over John's ribs and see how sensitive his nipples might be, was absolutely succeeding. "Because she's a whole lot hotter than I am, if you ask me."

"Nobody's asking you," Rodney said, absently, already calculating the best way to get John out of his pants.

"Right," John said. Affable as always.

And then they stopped talking, because they were kissing again. Somehow they made it to the bed without looking where they were going, and Rodney wound up on top of John, biting gently at the side of his neck where there wasn't a scar.

John's nipples were as sensitive as Rodney had hoped; the tiniest bite made him squirm, and little licks made him gasp.

And when Rodney tugged his pants halfway down his thighs and breathed over John's erection, letting his mouth linger just above the soft white cotton of his briefs, John groaned. "Jesus, McKay," and his voice was rough in a way Rodney had never heard before, "look, next time you can do all the exploring you want, but right now could you just --"

Rodney smiled broadly, though he knew John couldn't see. "Sure, fine," he said, as nonchalantly as he could, and as John pushed his tangle of clothing down his legs he slid his mouth down.

"Ohh," John said, fervently, sounding surprised, and thrust up a little. Rodney added hands to the picture -- he had a theory John would like the dual stimulation as much as he did.

John choked back a groan, and Rodney swallowed salt. Which seemed like confirmation of his theory, and then some.

Rodney sat back on his heels, admiring the picture of John blissed-out in his bed. His goofy grin was -- well, gratifying, really.

"Smug's a good look on you," John said, lazily, and beckoned. "C'mere."

"Having a little trouble moving, there, Major?"

The goad did exactly what it was meant to; next thing Rodney knew he'd been positioned on his side with John spooned up behind him, left arm around him, holding him close. "Not exactly," John murmured into the short hair at the back of his neck. The brush of his lips woke every nerve ending Rodney hadn't realized he had. He shuddered, suddenly more turned-on than he could explain.

"Huh. You like that," John said. The words were unnecessary; clearly he'd figured out that the vibrations of his voice and the touch of his lips were driving Rodney crazy.

"Perceptive," Rodney managed. His whole body felt sensitized.

"And how about this?" There was amusement in his tone, and Rodney would have snapped at him, except that "this" meant John's right hand closing firmly over Rodney's cock through his sweatpants, and Rodney moaned, his body wanting to fly apart in too many directions at once.

"I'll take that as a 'yes,' then." John's hand withdrew, and Rodney had opened his mouth to complain when that hand slid beneath the waistband and took the same grip on bare skin. John bit the back of his neck, thumb stroking over the head of his cock, and Rodney gasped for breath. John tightened both grips, the arm holding him steady and the fingers encircling his cock, and Rodney let go.


"McKay," John said, reaching around him in the mess hall for another muffin.

"Major."

As John stepped back, Rodney caught the faintest scent of his own aftershave. He smiled a private smile at his tray.

"Jesus, how much coffee is that?"

"It's a perfectly respectable mug," Rodney said, haughtily.

"You're going to jitter all the way through the briefing!"

"Believe me, Major, you don't want me to be without sufficient caffeine. Not a pretty sight."

This time it was John who quirked a private smile, too fast for anyone else to see. "Okay, then," he said. "C'mon, we're going to be late."

"Fine, let's go," Rodney said, and they grinned, and turned toward the briefing room, and walked away.

(1400 words)

The End