Previous Entry | Next Entry

SGA: Getting the Message

New story set in a semi-AU where DADT was repealed.  Kind of in honor of Coming Out Day (just under the wire...), kind of originally for Pride as that’s when I first got the idea though I didn’t get the chance to write it until now.


Title:  Getting the Message

Genre:  SGA, slight AU, slash, John/Rodney

Rating:  R (leaning towards higher)

Synopsis:  John delivers a message, and maybe a bit more.

Author’s Notes/Warnings:  There are hints of homophobia.  There are also hints at an explicit relationship but only hints because when it comes to writing such situations, I suck and not in a good way.

Disclaimer:  I don’t own them, people with a lot of money do.  I’m just borrowing them for a bit in a purely not-for-profit way.




“Hey, Rodney, did you hear the good news?” Sheppard asked without preamble the moment the door opened.


The civilian in question propped himself up in bed and rubbed his eyes.  “Considering I was asleep, for the first time in 23 hours I might add, I may have missed whatever life-shattering announcement that was just made,” he muttered.  Not bothering to cover his yawn, he added, “But apparently I’m lucky enough to have my very own courier service to advise me of whatever news is important enough for you to barge in here at, oh god, 7:00 in the morning.”  The watch that had dared to tell him that time was summarily knocked to the floor.


The smile John had pasted on when he first came to the door was a bit more forced now, but he was determined that McKay would enjoy this as much as he did.  He was also determined to pay absolutely no attention to the fact McKay was apparently wearing absolutely nothing underneath the thin cotton bedding.  “I think you’ll like it...” he baited.


“And I thought you were bright enough to know not to come here at this ridiculous hour without bearing gifts of vast amounts of caffeine,” the scientist replied.  He adjusted the sheet around him, but made no move to get out of bed.  Sheppard had not asked and he was not offering.


“Whoa, you demand a lot out of your couriers,” John teased. 


“Just get this over with so I can go back to sleep,” Rodney pleaded.


Sheppard cleared his throat, “Well, in reverence to the great message carriers in the past...”


“Sing and I’ll shoot you were you stand,” his friend warned, stopping that line of thought before it could get off the ground.  “As soon as I find my gun,” he added in a low grumble, casting a weary eye around his room for his gear from just the day before.


“Fine,” John huffed, partially deflated.  Rodney was taking all the fun out of this.  “The U.S. military is doing away with the whole ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ rule.”


“And?  So?  Therefore?” the other man prompted.  “I don’t know if you noticed this or not, but I am neither a U.S. citizen nor am I a member of your backwards military which will most likely continue its homophobic ways with or without your government’s permission.  Tell me why I should care.”


He shifted the blankets again and John tried really hard not to be distracted.  “Maybe,” he swallowed.  “If they had a positive role model they would be more open and accepting to the whole thing.”


“First of all, ‘thing’?  Way to be accepting there yourself, Colonel,” Rodney scoffed.  “And secondly, I don’t know how you got access to my personal files, but I am not about to out myself and volunteer to be your lackies’ punching bag for the next month.”


“Personal file?” John parroted for lack of anything better to say.  He had no idea what Rodney was talking about, but was kind of wishing he did.


“Yes,” the scientist snapped.  He shifted on the bed again, belatedly pulling the sheet back up.  Personal versus personnel.  I’m sure the SGC sent both.  It’s a subtle difference, but one lists my academic accomplishments and the other lists my accomplishments with both the female and male persuasions.”


“Male persuasions?” John repeated, still not positive of what he was hearing.


There was a pause, and then Rodney blanched, turning almost as pale as the bedding barely covering him.  “Crap,” he whimpered.  Louder now, he said, “Um, so you, er, didn’t know?”


Sheppard fought the urge to shake his head, settling instead for, “No, Rodney I did not know.”  He was cut off before he could say more.


“But now you do and, crap, I am so not dressed for a beat down,” the scientist babbled, looking down at himself and back up at the military officer.  “How about we schedule this for later?  You know, wait until I am awake, dressed, and standing behind Ronon before you try to kick the shit out of me?”


“Ronon?”  John asked, confused at the mention of their teammate.


“No, wait, you’re right,” McKay said, still talking more to himself than the only other person in the room.  “I never checked to see what Satedan acceptabilities are what with the whole not caring thing, so who knows what he would think about homosexuality – he might think it’s a curse or something.  On the one hand, there’s his unholy fascination with sweaty Marines, but on the other, he always listens to what you say and might take it as an order and I really don’t think I could survive against both you and him at the same time...”


“McKay!” Sheppard finally interrupted, hands on his hips and not even trying to keep the exasperation out of his tone.  Satisfied he had the other man’s attention, he decided to try to keep it simple, and quick.  “You are not going to have to go up against Ronon and me.”


“Why?  Because you’re going to do it all by yourself?” Rodney cut in.  He tried to sound arrogant and condescending, but John had known him long enough to hear the fear creeping into his tone.


“As much as I am tempted to smack you right now, I am not going to hurt you,” Sheppard promised with a sigh.




“Really,” he confirmed.  Rodney was still a bit high strung, but was much calmer than he had been a moment ago, so John felt there was a chance he was getting through.  “I did not read your file and did not know you had ever had... relations... with men.  With your apparent fascination with blonde-haired, blue-eyed, female scientists, I never would have even guessed.”


“What can I say, I have depths,” McKay snarked.


John closed his eyes and bit his lip to prevent himself from responding to that comment.


The self-proclaimed genius seemed to glean that there was something more his friend wanted to say.  “So if you didn’t wake me up to beat me up...” he prompted.


Sheppard opened his eyes and sighed, again.  “I thought maybe, I mean, if you wanted, I mean...” he started only to stop himself.  “Look this was a bad idea.  I should have just let you sleep, what with being tired and that whole 23 hour thing...  I’ll just be going, okay?”  He turned as if to leave, deciding it was probably the best option at this point.


Rodney swung his feet over the side of the bed, the sheet dropping to pool at his waist as he sat up straighter.  “John,” he called softly, the name barely a whisper but still loud enough to stop him in his tracks.  “Tell me.”


Sheppard looked him in the eyes, refusing to let his gaze drop and linger at the sight before him.  “I was...  I thought the announcement might be a clever way of seeing if you were interested,” he said in a rush.  Taking a deep breath, he added, “In me.”


“Interested?” Rodney asked.  It was apparently his turn to be the parrot.


“Yeah,” John slowly confirmed.  “Interested in me.”  He was unsure, and he knew it showed on his face, in his stance, but this was important and he needed to face his doubts head on.  Instead of running and fleeing like every instinct in his body was screaming at him to do, he stood his ground and refused to back down.


Rodney pushed himself up from the bed slowly, letting the sheet drop to the side.  He took a cautious step forward, then another when it looked like he was not about to die.  A crooked grin settled across his face as he confirmed, “Yeah, you might say that.”


“Really?” Sheppard asked tentatively.


“Really,” Rodney confirmed.


Neither man seemed to know what to do for a moment, standing there awkwardly, waiting for the other to make the first move.  Impatient as always, Rodney reached forward and gently took John’s hands into his own.  “Usually, this is when we touch,” he whispered conspiringly.  He pulled the other man towards him until Sheppard got with the program and wrapped him arms around him.


There was skin.  Lots and lots of skin.  All exposed for him, all free for him to touch.  He contented himself with a fleeting brush against the surprisingly soft texture until, certain it was not going to disappear, he pressed a palm into the small of Rodney’s broad back and the fingertips of his other hand found the little hairs at the base of his neck.  He let out a stuttering breath.  “Real,” he sighed, a question and confirmation all in one.


“Real,” Rodney promised, trailing his own hand across familiar fabric that was suddenly far more intimate than it had any right to be.


John pulled him closer, smelling the sleep-warmed skin, feeling the little hairs on the back of Rodney’s neck stand up at the chill in the room.  He looked into the pale blue eyes across from him, hearing a murmur of affirmation before focusing on the lips before him.  A soft brush was all he needed.  His tongue darted out, tasting coffee and sweetness and warmth and Rodney.  Pulling back, he saw the satisfied smirk and knew it matched his own, knew that it was only the beginning of something more.


Confidence restored, he smiled, “I think I could get used to that.”


Never one to be beaten, Rodney added, “I think I could get used to a lot more than that.”


John let his hands wander over the expanse of skin so helpfully presented to him.  “You are very naked,” he pointed out.  He let his hands drift lower, enjoying the flush he created on the other man’s cheeks.


“And you, are overdressed,” Rodney countered.


“And what should we do about that?” he baited.


Rodney smiled, and there was nothing sweet about it.  “Oh, I have a few ideas.  I am a genius, after all.”


John felt himself being pulled forward, deft fingers unbuttoning his shirt even as they fell in a graceless heap on the bed.  Breath hitched and fingers paused.  “It’s my gun belt, I swear,” John said solemnly.  He reached to undo the clasp but found another hand had beaten him there.


Belt removed, he pressed closer against the warmth surrounding him.  A laughing whisper sounded in his ear, “Mine’s not.”


They spent the next several hours touching, feeling, sharing, enjoying.  Both seemed determined to let the other know that this was reality, this was truth, and this was not going to go away any time soon.


Later, as they lay tangled in the disheveled sheets and each other, the outside world threatened to encroach with the familiar beep of the comm system.  John groped and found the headset between his belt and his boots on the floor.  He activated it and stated, “Day off, better be good.”


He listened to the familiar voice on the other end apologize and briefly ramble about an idea he only half listened to, making sure to make encouraging noises at the right times.  He signed off with the promise the rest of the day was his and very carefully made sure the connection was cut.


“Who was that?” Rodney yawned.


“Elizabeth,” John answered.


“Is the city going to blow up?”


John snuffled closer, pulling the blanket up around his shoulders.  “Nah, she just wanted to know if we needed increased patrols because of the announcement and whether or not we should hold some sort of party or parade to celebrate.”


Rodney snorted.  “Please, with your love of Ferris Wheels and musicals, you are your own parade.”


John sought out and found a particular spot that he remembered made Rodney incredibly ticklish, among other things.  Finally claiming mercy with a kiss, he said, “I told her we’re not exactly the parade types.”


McKay held his hand in place, probably not trusting him to not go for the advantage again, and commented, “Last time I went to a Pride parade, I had to help the children fight off the meth addicts trying to get the candy tossed from the floats.”  With mock seriousness he added, “Good times, let me tell you.”


“Meth addicts?  You lived in Canada!”


“Hey, the Northern Americas aren’t just rainbows and snow, you know,” he commented.  He used his free hand to poke Sheppard in the side to make his point, then proceeded to do something completely indecent with it.


“So I am figuring out,” John gasped, riding out whatever McKay had planned for him.  He was quickly learning it truly was for the best.


Sweaty and sated once more, Rodney tucked his chin against warm skin and quietly asked, “Do you think there’s going to be problems?”


“With us, with the city, or with the repealing of the law?”


“All of the above?”


Sheppard contemplated that for a moment, running the scenarios through his mind.  He and Rodney already pretty much constantly bickered, so there would be nothing new there except the chance at some fabulous making ups.  The serious question was about his men, about the city, and about how people conditioned to believe one thing would be forced to accept something else.  Everyone chosen for the expedition was chosen because they were the best; they were smart and adaptable and able to handle whatever life threw at them, or at least they were supposed to be.  This was big, he wasn’t denying that.  He was, however, counting on his people to not be stupid. 


He knew, in theory, there should be no issues, no fights, no disciplinary action needed.  He also knew these were human beings they were talking about, and all bets were off.  What it came down to in the end was trust.  He had to trust his people as much as they trusted him.  Thinking back on the last few years, he smiled.  He held his new reality a bit closer and gave the best answer he could, “I think we’re going to be all right.”








Feedback is always welcomed.



( 4 comments — Leave a comment )
Oct. 12th, 2007 06:45 pm (UTC)
Very nice! Loved Rodney accidentally outing himself to John :-D
Oct. 13th, 2007 01:55 am (UTC)
Thank you! It just seemed like a Rodney thing to do.
Oct. 13th, 2007 06:17 am (UTC)
This is lovely! Excellent and that was definitely a McKay thing to do, outing himself accidentally! :)

Oct. 14th, 2007 03:10 pm (UTC)
Thank you very much! Thanks for letting me know you liked it!
( 4 comments — Leave a comment )

Latest Month

January 2017


Powered by LiveJournal.com
Designed by Lilia Ahner