Rodney, you're fine."
"Nothing is wrong?" He huffed, hopping off of the table and crossing his arms--the typical frustrated Rodney stance, "Are you sure?"
"Aye, Rodney, I'm sure," matching Rodney's crossed arms, "As much as I'd like something to be wrong, because that would finally give me a break from all of the bloody paperwork I have to do, you are completely fine."
Rodney rolled his eyes and headed to the door, stopping as he had twisted the knob, "You know, if your resident genius suddenly and "mysteriously" keels over in the middle of a ZPM test or a Debriefing don't think your going to be getting anything from his will."
Then he turned on his heel and walked out.
Carson shook his head and sauntered back to his cluttered desk. He knew as well as anyone, if not better, that Rodney gave meaning to the word hypochondriac. He was constantly in the infirmary complaining about something, whether it be a paper cut or a twisted finger and or something that was completely unmedically related.
Carson was like Rodney’s personal shrink. There was no point in him talking with Heightmeyer any more. By the time his sessions with her rolled around he was already bitched out, or he should have been. But this was Rodney McKay we're talking about, the man who could talk and talk for hours on end about everyone’s latest fuckups. Never mentioning his own, not that Rodney McKay ever made mistakes. Mistakes were for a normal man, and as far as Rodney was concerned he was no normal man--to Rodney he was as invincible as Superman (or at least his intellect was).
But Carson usually enjoyed the interruptions. Generally enjoyed being pestered and pushed by Rodney. In fact, he enjoyed it a little more than he knew he should. Even to the point that he'd go to sleep a little upset if he wasn't paid at least a visit by Rodney. Not that he'd wait around in the infirmary for him, pining for him--no that would be obsessing, and just bloody strange--but when he showed up Carson's day would immediately brighten, even if he was there just to poke and prod at him. Somehow, the jabs Rodney made at Carson seemed less animalistic and scathing, and more light and playful like he was a little kid who just keeps saying "Why" to his friend because he thinks it's funny.
Everyone else noticed it too. It had become a subject everyone liked to talk about in the Commissary and the Briefing Room, when both Carson and Rodney weren't present.
About a month or two ago, John and Teyla had both gone into detail on how they were going to set Carson and Rodney up, but never followed through with it because they had no idea whether either of them were openly gay. It was still a common topic at the lunch table, even when Carson and Rodney were there (together...because they always ate together). And when they were at the table, the subject was code named "The Mission to PX696" (Sheppard that pervert) so they didn’t have any idea what they were talking about.
Carson had always felt something for Rodney, but kept it hidden and suppressed. Not because he was afraid of people knowing he was interested in men, but mostly because he hadn't the time for a relationship because he needed to be focused on his work (particularly when he was discovering how to administer the ATA gene) AND not to mention it was Rodney McKay, which pretty much explained itself. Plus he was quite sure that Rodney was straight. Just completely inept when it came to women. Humorously so. Rodney with women was just about as entertaining to watch as a Chapman Film, only it was with sound. Lots of it. Mostly Rodney stumbling over words or rambling on about nothing or everything, one of the two--when it came to Rodney they were pretty much one in the same because most of the scientific gibberish that came flying out of his mouth meant nothing to anyone except Radek and sometimes Carson.
Carson just stared at the barricade of files in his makeshift office. He puffed up his cheeks then blew the air out, as he sat in his swivel chair and picked up the closest one.
Tuesday blah blah blah. Genetics blah blah blah blah blah.
He couldn't think straight. Those 24 hours of living off of coffee was doing him no good. Sure he was wired, but his focus and attention span was shot.
"Och," he garbled.
He tossed the file onto his desk, knocking a few of them off of the other side. Running quickly to the front of his desk, he retrieved the fallen files. He tossed those onto his desk, and they proceeded to fall off of the other side of his desk again. He hung his head and just waved his hand at them. "Ah well and he walked out of the infirmary.
It had been a slow day. No off world mission, no "in" world mission. Carson guessed that what you'd call a mission in Atlantis, no one had bothered to name Atlantis missions so that was what he'd always called them. It had caught on with John and Elizabeth, and Rodney used it as a joke. Then he would attempt to imitate Carson's Scottish accent (to no prevail) and say many other frequently used "Carson-isms", that always made Carson crack a rather large smile. Which John and Elizabeth never failed to notice.
When Carson reached the Commissary, it was practically empty. The only people in there were a few of the "on hand" scientists and some guy who vaguely resembled Ronon, if Ronon suddenly went on an eating spree. He walked over to one of the refrigerators and stared through the frosted glass for something remotely appetizing. Stale looking pie, Salad, The Athosian equivalent of apples, Water, Various Juices.
Suddenly the refrigerator opened and a hand grabbed the two salads that Carson's eyes had kept reverting to.
"Here."
Carson was handed a salad. "A salad, Dr. McKay that's unlike you."
Rodney half smiled, half sneered and forced a chuckle, "Hah. I'll have you know I like salad as much as the next man."
"Well, I am the next man and what tells you that I like salad so much?" Carson asked his Scottish lilt honeying up the words.
"Uh, duh. Genius." He said pointing to himself.
Carson rolled his eyes. Right, Rodney, of course. Carson started walked toward the tables.
"Wait! Carson!" Rodney exclaimed.
Carson turned around, "Hm?"
"Come with me."
Rodney started walking in the opposite direction, and Carson followed. They were heading toward the rooms. Carson was thoroughly confused. Not that he hadn't been to Rodney's room before; this was just a strange and unexpected invitation. They walked straight to Rodney's room and he opened the door and let Carson in. "Rodney, what are we doing here?"
Rodney walked over to the door, shut it and leaned against it. "Carson, I need your help."
Carson's ears perked up. The cocky Rodney McKay who had all the answers was asking for help.
"You're asking me for..."
"Yes," he interrupted, obviously uncomfortable with the fact that he, Rodney McKay, was asking someone for help. "I, uh, I," he stammered hands sort of flailing around in the air, "am trying to ask someone on a date."
His hands silenced as sputtered out his statement. Carson almost giggled but repressed it, because he knew that would just make matters worse in Rodney's head. "Who?" Carson's voice went up as he inquired.
"I don't know...anyone," Rodney said with defeat as he walked over to the bed and sat down.
Carson sat down next to him "Why do you want my help?"
Rodney licked his lips and groaned, "Well, you're all doctor-like and people-y, you know?"
"And?" Carson asked amused by Rodney's phrasing.
"And I need a new strategy. Not that mine isn't working. I'm just looking for a new approach," He said propping one of his legs up on the bed so he could more easily face Carson.
"Well we all know just how romantic Rodney McKay is," Carson said his voice lined with sarcasm.
"Oh, oh please," Rodney rebuked standing up, "You have no grasp of the romantic wiles of this charming and not to mention brilliant scientist."
Rodney raised one eyebrow and ran a hand through his hair. A grin flashed in Carson's eyes as he completely burst out laughing. "Damn it, I don't even know why I came to you," Rodney muttered, pacing, "Ok fine. So I'm not the suavest thing in Atlantis..."
Carson cut in, "No you'd give Ronon a run for his money."
Rodney shot Carson a death glare that slightly dimmed Carson's wide grin. "Fine. I don't need your help. I can do this on my own."
"I'm sorry Rodney," Carson said with completely sincerity his Scottish brogue melting Rodney's piercing glare.
Rodney rolled his eyes and nodded, sitting back down on the bed. "Look, Rodney, one of the main things is that you need to open yourself up more."
"What?" Rodney said disgust filling his voice. "What the hell do you mean by that?"
Everyone knew that although Rodney seemed completely stable he was a total wreck inside. Low self confidence, which was why he always had to announce his brilliance. Trust issues, which was why he hated asking for help and cut himself off from relationships. And so many other things.
"You need to be more in touch with the person you're out with, and people in general."
"You sound like Heightmeyer," Rodney mumbled.
"Well she's right," Carson said knowingly, "it's key when you're on a date with someone. You need to be in touch with their feelings and not just your own. For example, instead of just talking their ear off," Carson could see that Rodney was about to interrupt and argue, so he just kept talking, "ask them about their day or what they like or what they've been up to. Because Rodney you aren't the only person in the world who enjoys talking about yourself."
Rodney was paying attention, mostly. Carson was probably right. Actually he knew Carson was right, and he'd always attempted opening himself and all of that shit, but in the end he always got hurt. So, he'd come to the scientific conclusion that it was easier to live closed off from all people in general.
But then there was Carson.
Carson and his Scottish tongue that could calm a pit-bull down, and his eyes that were far more enticing than any new piece of ATA technology, and his soothing hands, and kind demeanor. He was everything that Rodney wasn't. And everything that Rodney wanted.
When Rodney tuned back in, Carson was saying, "If you pay attention to the other person's body language and voice infection, you can tell what they want. Whether it's to leave immediately, or keep talking, or to passionately kiss you, or what not."
As Carson chuckled to himself, the gears in Rodney's genius mind began to turn. Rodney sat back down, swallowed quite loudly and asked in a snarky enough manner that it covered up his real feelings, "And you don't think I pay attention?"
"Well from what I've noticed...no."
With that Rodney leaned in to Carson and kissed him. A short and shallow kiss, but definitely one of the boldest moves Rodney had made since he'd joined the Atlantis team.
Suddenly he pulled away, vaguely aware of what he had just done.
The gears started turning again, and his eyes were sprinkled with fear. He started to get up, obviously afraid that Carson would be offended and hate him, but a hand clasped his arm. Rodney's shifty eyes met Carson's. Unlike Rodney's they were bright and practically glimmering, but the little specks of fear were fairly visible.
"I'm sorry," stuttered the normally wordy and usually articulate Rodney.
The corner of Carson's mouth up-turned into a grin, "Don't be, love."
Rodney's eyes grew wide again, the color returning from grey to liquid blue. He leaned in to Carson again. His were lips soft and undemanding, something that caught Carson off guard. This was completely opposite to the blunt and blustery Rodney McKay everyone was used to. Rodney's innocent lips and lucid eyes caused Carson to completely give in. He returned the kiss with more insistence, running his tongue across Rodney's lower lip.
Rodney had no idea what to do. Carson wanted him. And he definitely wanted more of Carson. Why was he still thinking? He did not need his brain at a time like this...
Their kiss quickly became more passionate, their tongues intertwining and pushing into each others mouths. Rodney thought he was going to melt. Carson had moved one of his hands around neck, in his hair and the other was roaming on his back. His spine tingled as Carson brushed his fingertips on the base of his neck. Carson's mouth moved away from Rodney's. Rodney made a little noise of protest, which was then replaced by shallow breaths when Carson's mouth moved to his neck. Carson kissed and nipped in all of the right places, and he made a mental note each time he nipped and Rodney shivered and made a little needy whimper.
He liked Rodney like this. He was finally open. Finally willing to trust someone.
"Skin," Rodney whispered through clenched teeth.
Carson nodded, fully understanding. He and Rodney grabbed at his shirt hem, and together pulled it over his head.
Carson was quite toned, something Rodney had always noticed, but it was even more visible now. His broad muscular shoulders led in to somewhat sculpted “pecs” (as all of the Sheppard wannabee boys called them) and down to what was once a pronounced 6-ish pack, now just very nice looking abs. Rodney’s eyes scanned over Carson’s upper body still amazed that someone like this could possibly have any interest in him. His hands went immediately to Carson’s shoulders, pulling him down to him. Rodney’s unexpected forceful kiss and his hands kneading into his back and shoulders made Carson’s breath quicken. His hands went for Rodney’s shirt. He slipped them under the fabric and began to raise it up. Rodney propped himself on his elbows so it would be easier for Carson.
As his shirt came off, Rodney became quite self-conscious. Here he was a fairly average looking guy (was at one point in his life time very in shape, but now was just healthy) with an amazingly gorgeous man on top of him.
Carson really loved how Rodney looked. Something about it had always made Carson smile. He was in shape just a little pudgy around the middle—price of being a full time intellect. Carson could see the worriment spread into Rodney’s eyes again. Rodney’s eyes gave every part of him away. As expressive as Rodney’s words and gestures were, his eyes beat could beat them out any day.
Oh no you don’t, Rodney. Don’t go thinking now.
Carson stopped the astrophysicists thought process with a series of kisses down his neck. Gradually getting lower and lower. Every inch of Rodney that Carson touched felt like it could burst into flame, and with every touch blood rushed down through his entire body. Rodney’s breath hitched, when Carson’s fingers which had been trailing all over his chest fanned over one of his over sensitive nipples. Carson smiled when he felt Rodney’s body jump. His experienced fingers tweaked it into a hard nub, which his mouth and tongue then teased. Hot sensations carried through Rodney’s body coming to rest at his hard cock.
It had been so long since anyone had touched him like this. In fact, no one had ever touched Rodney like this. He’d never been involved with anyone who was so totally attuned to his body, and his cock was sparking to life with every kiss and every massage Carson gave him.
Neither of them could handle the clothing they had on any more. They each attempted taking off their pants still lying on the bed, but it didn’t work very well. So, frustrated, Carson got up and just shucked them off. Rodney, whose eyes were busy drinking in every part of Carson, desperately tried to take his pants off but his hands were too shaky and couldn’t undo the zipper.
“Damn it,” he hissed.
Carson had to laugh at Rodney’s state of frustration, and then he went to help him. His hands undid the zipper with finesse, and he eased Rodney’s pants and boxers off of him.
Carson went back to kissing Rodney—not ignoring any part of him. Then he got lower and lower. His mouth almost on Rodney’s pulsating cock. Rodney stared down at him, eyes dilated and wide. Rodney whimpered as Carson’s mouth came up to his, capturing him in a wet and amourous kiss. He kissed back, his kisses more needy and rushed. Carson slowed him down, his tongue slowly entering Rodney’s hot mouth, which issued a froggy sound from the back of Rodney’s throat.
As their kiss crescendoed, Carson’s hand wandered in between Rodney’s legs, lightly brushing his cock. Rodney’s hips unconsciously bucked into Carson’s hand. Carson was quick to respond. He took and his other hand pushed Rodney’s hips down, and his other hand trailed up and down his shaft. Rodney’s head fell back against the bed with a desperate, “Yes…oh my god.”
Rodney’s whole body quivered, his eyes were forced shut. Carson’s tricky hands maneuvered Rodney’s cock, putting just enough pressure on the upstroke and not quite enough on the down stroke, making Rodney’s brain practically leak out of his ears.
Carson knew Rodney couldn’t hold out much longer, and Carson needed to feel the force of Rodney’s orgasm—his own cock couldn’t deny his attraction to the sounds and nonsense words Rodney was mumbling.
Carson’s lips moved down to Rodney’s navel, a sensory spot Rodney didn’t even know existed. Rodney’s breathing was now coming in deep, quavering spurts. Rodney’s hand came to rest in Carson’s black hair, which for some reason wasn’t gelled that day so it was easy for Rodney to run his fingers through. Carson couldn’t help it any more. His fingers moved away from Rodney’s cock. Rodney moaned in protest. But Carson’s fingers were replaced by a more than adequate substitute. Rodney’s cock was enveloped in the wet heat of Carson’s mouth. That was all Rodney needed to put him over the edge. He let out a breathy and shuttering cry as he came in Carson’s mouth. Carson sucked and lapped up nearly all of it, holding Rodney’s still throbbing cock in his hand.
Rodney had lost all capability of intelligent thought. If Atlantis were to break down or come under Wraith attack they’d have an Astrophysicist whose brain was complete mush, and they’d have to rely on someone else to come up with a brilliant solution. Or they’d probably all die. But at the moment none of that mattered to Rodney.
Rodney looked down at Carson. Carson just smiled. Rodney grabbed at Carson’s arm and pulled him up to him, capturing his mouth in a searing kiss. Rodney could taste his own cum, which was a bit disconcerting to say the least. But he didn’t really care. All he cared about now was Carson. He wanted Carson; he wanted to touch Carson the way that Carson had touched him.
So Rodney’s hand snaked down Carson’s body, coming to rest right above his cock. “I need,” Rodney breathed, “need to touch you.”
Carson’s dark, lust filled eyes stared into Rodney, “yes. Please.”
Rodney’s hand was less elegant than Carson’s but Carson didn’t need much to do him in. After a few quick strokes, Carson was coming in Rodney’s hand, and biting his own lip to keep from crying out.
Carson loved being touched, especially by Rodney. Being in the medical field, he had always been the one to touch people. To heal them, to soothe their pain. Most of the time, the only people he got to touch were sick or in the infirmary only because Elizabeth told them they had to be checked out. When he got the chance to pleasure a body that wanted to be with him he took it. And when he got the chance to be touched by someone else, he was more than happy to comply with their every need and every word.
Rodney was dazed, and still dizzy with desire. He wanted every part of Carson. All of these feelings he'd kept bottled up for years and years we're set loose when he met Carson.
He was vaguely aware that Carson was running his fingers up and around his chest, until he was jerked awake when Carson nipped at one of his nipples. Rodney let out a groan. "Oh god, you're going to kill me."
Carson's eyes gleamed, "No, love. Quite the opposite."
Rodney's whole body grinned at Carson, at his delicate touch and accent. Oh god, the accent. Rodney wasn't sure why he was so attracted to Carson's accent, it made him feel like a teenage girl with an obsessive crush.
"Carson..."
"Mmm?" He asked still kissing at Rodney's chest.
"I need you."
Rodney, the solitary genius needed someone and admitted to it. This was a momentous occasion. And Carson was gladly willing to accept the job of people that someone.
He nodded. "Lube?" He inquired searching Rodney's room for the place he put lube, knowing that he must have some somewhere.
Rodney nodded in the direction of the nightstand. Of course, Rodney would be the kind of person to have in handy. Just in case.
Carson grabbed it out of the night stand and squirted a considerable amount into his hand. Rodney watched with glazed eyes.
Anticipating what Carson was going to say, Rodney opened his legs to give more access to Carson. Carson smiled, and lathered his fingers with the lube. He and Rodney's stare never broke as he placed his first finger at Rodney's opening.
The slight intrusion caused Rodney to whimper in arousal his cock already aching hard again.
Carson could feel how tight Rodney was--it must have been so long for him, and Carson knew just how long it had been for himself as well.
Carson added a second finger, slowly sliding in and out careful to avoid his prostate. He was saving that for later. Rodney's muscles were slowly loosening and he felt as though he were slipping away on waves of pleasure. Carson could hear him unconsciously muttering scientific nonsense, something that Carson strangely found to be really hot.
He then added a third finger, which Rodney groaned at--not painfully, just attempting to remember the sensation. Carson was having trouble moving so slowly, he wanted so terrible just to enter Rodney's tight body, but he didn't want to rush it. "So, good," Rodney mumbled between breaths, "Carson. Need you. Now."
Carson was more than happy to oblige. He withdrew his fingers, squirted some more lube into his hand and slicked his own hard cock. He jumped as the cold liquid covered his cock and was so tempted just to keep stroking it on, but he wanted Rodney so badly that it cancelled out his need to orgasm right then and there.
He moved his cock to the opening between Rodney's legs, and slowly pushed in.
He could see Rodney biting his lip and clenching his fists full of sheets.
Carson groaned as he entered him. One because Rodney looked so gorgeous under him and two because he was so tight and hot and it had been so long since Carson had entered anybody.
He started out long and slow, giving both he and Rodney time to get used to each other. Rodney's hands had snaked around Carson's back and were caressing his shoulder muscles. Instinct starting to kick in, Rodney's hips started moving to meet Carson's. This signaled Carson to go a little harder and deeper, and with his first thrust he unerringly hit Rodney's prostate.
Rodney groaned loudly, hands working harder into Carson's back, still muttering algorithms under his sharp breaths.
With Rodney's cock hitting against Carson's stomach and Carson slamming into his prostate with every thrust, Rodney's body felt like it was exploding. His nerve endings were going haywire. He felt Carson's hand slip around his cock and that was it. The next thing he knew he was coming all over both of their stomachs.
Rodney's pulsing body pulled Carson over the edge too, and Rodney was flooded with Carson's come.
Carson pulled out of Rodney and they both collapsed back into each other panting heavily.
"Well," Rodney gasped.
"Aye," Carson replied.
And both of them fell asleep exhausted.
*****
Carson and Rodney walked into the Commissary arguing about a piece of ATA technology. They walked over to the table where Teyla, Ronon, and John were sitting.
"No, Carson, that's completely impossible," Rodney shrugged off Carson's advice.
"Alright, Rodney, whatever," Carson said smiling.
John glanced from Carson to Rodney and then back to Carson. He laughed to himself.
"So, the mission to PX696 was a success," he announced.
Teyla was confused. Had Sheppard gone through with their plan without her knowledge?
"PX696?" Teyla asked, her eyes asking Sheppard the real question.
"It was a private," he emphasized, "in-world mission."
Teyla cracked a smile, "Oh."
"Ah, a good old 'in-world' mission," Rodney mocked, smirking at Carson.
Carson shook his head, smiling and turned around, about to head off in the direction of the infirmary. Rodney turned as well, and trotted at Carson's heels.
And they both walked away arguing.
John and Ronon snorted they were laughing so hard. Apparently, Teyla had missed something. She raised an eyebrow in question.
John pointed from Carson to Rodney and from Rodney back to Carson.
She looked carefully, seeing if she'd missed something. Pants were on the right way, Shirts weren't inside out...and then she noticed. Rodney McKay, who always stood up for his native country and was a firm Canadian patriot, wore a Scotland patch on his arm. And the Scottish accented Carson Beckett wore a Canadian flag.
Teyla looked back at John and they both smiled.
Fin.
--Katie
hope you liked it. hopefully i'll be encouraged to write more--i probably will I had way too much fun writing this to just make it a one time deal. Heh.
dorky
lesnarkymonkey</span>