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FIC: Nothing's Ever Normal Here (SGA)
Nothing's Ever Normal Here
by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ashinae
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 at worst
Spoilers: No major plot twists. Assumes you've seen up to 2x02, though.
Disclaimer: Written for fun, not profit. Will return the boys in one piece.
Summary: As far as Rodney was concerned, the story was always about him and the other people in the story orbited around him.
Note: Thanks tolinden_jay for giving this a once-over.
Word count: ~1500
Nothing's Ever Normal Here
This is a story about a boy named Rodney.
At least, that's what Rodney told himself. As far as Rodney was concerned, the story was always about him and the other people in the story orbited around him. That's just the way things were.
Rodney was a smarty-pants.
In fact, his pants were so smart that he'd had universities all over North America throwing money at him, begging him to make them look good. This gave Rodney a very high sense of importance, and further proof for his theory that the story was really just about him.
One day, Rodney's story got very, very interesting. He was given the opportunity of a lifetime: the chance to travel a vast distance across space into another galaxy, through a piece of alien technology known as a stargate. The stargate was very big and very round and created artificial wormholes from Point A to Point B using all sorts of things like science and other sciences, that of course Rodney could tell anyone all about, at great length, but it would just make ordinary people go cross-eyed. Besides, this isn't a story about stargates and science, not really. It's just a story about a boy named Rodney.
The stargate spat him, and a bunch of other people who orbited around him, out in the lost city of the Ancients, Atlantis, where Rodney's whole life was thrown for a bit of a loop. He discovered things like not having enough power for the city, the Wraith, the fact that one of the other scientists was possibly just as much of a smarty-pants as he was, and being chosen to be a member of Major John Sheppard's team.
After the unfortunate events surrounding the discovery of the Wraith in the Pegasus galaxy, Major Sheppard became the ranking military officer in Atlantis, making him very important. Possibly as important as Rodney, but in a different sort of capacity, and this was of great concern. And not only that, but Major Sheppard -- who quickly became Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard -- was also very attractive, had impossible hair, and was kind of a bit of a smarty-pants himself, though he occasionally seemed to like to pretend he wasn't, only to pull out his very smart pants when he felt Rodney was being an ass. Occasionally, they yelled at each other.
A lot.
Whenever Sheppard argued with him, Rodney felt a rising sense of frustration. Why couldn't the man realise how terribly important he was? Why couldn't he realise that Rodney was always, always right, even when he was wrong, which he never was? That was just the way things were, it was a natural sort of order, and, dammit, why did his hair make Rodney's fingers itch to try to tidy it?
Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard, and his hair, and his smart pants, sometimes kept Rodney up at night. He needed to solve the impossible problem of what to do about his frustration.
Eventually, after what Rodney deemed to be the one hundred and thirty-second restless night (not in a row, mind, because wow, he'd be even crankier if he had genuine, consistent insomnia, which he did, once, in college, and it nearly drove him completely 'round the bend), Rodney donned his robe and marched straight to Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard's quarters.
*
When he opened the door, Sheppard looked bleary. His hair was even more impossibly mussed. "It's three in the morning," he said. His voice was rough from sleep. Or from being awake far too early. That didn't help Rodney's frustration in the least.
"We need to have sex," Rodney said. He lifted his chin in what he hoped was an important, I-mean-business-Colonel! sort of way.
Sheppard blinked a few times. He rubbed a hand over his hair. "Uhhh," he said.
"Sex. You and me. Right now." Rodney crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn't going to be dissuaded.
"Rodney, if this is--"
Rodney wasn't going to hear any arguing. "I mean it. Let me in."
"Are you feeling...?" Sheppard trailed off, yawned, and waved a hand vaguely.
"I'm fine. Let me in."
"No, I think you--"
"John! I mean it."
Sheppard pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes and Rodney took that moment to stealthily push his way into the room so that the doors closed behind him and it was dark and he hoped he'd be able to get his point across a little better.
"Did you just call me John?" Sheppard asked, and he still sounded very tired and confused and that was actually kind of endearing. And even though Rodney couldn't see very well, he reached out, and tried to flatten Sheppard's hair a bit.
"Are you petting me now?"
"It's your hair..."
"Is my hair making you want to have sex with me?"
"No. Well, sort of. It's part of it. I--look, it's just the right thing to do. Trust me."
Sheppard groaned. "Don't say that. When you say that, bad things happen, and I'm not in the mood for that."
"It just doesn't make any sense."
"No, no, it doesn't. Can I go back to bed now, Rodney?"
"No. We really, really need to have sex. Now." Rodney was nothing if not persistent.
"But you've never even--" Sheppard took a step back, away from Rodney's hand, and Rodney couldn't have that so he took a step forward and reached out again.
"I am now," he said.
"Why now?" For a moment, Sheppard was tense, as though he was pondering trying to escape Rodney's hand again.
Clearly Sheppard's stupid hair wasn't going to behave, so Rodney just let his arm fall down to his side. Sheppard continued, "Did you inhale something? Was it those funny flowers? Rodney, are you high off of purple flowers?"
"No, John. I'm not high."
"And since when do you call me John?"
"Since right now. Look, it's just the right thing to do, and it makes sense, and once we get it out of our systems everything can be normal again."
"Nothing's ever normal here," Sheppard said.
"Well, no, it's not, and it makes me a bit crazy, I guess, but if we have sex--"
"Stop, Rodney. I'm taking you to see Carson."
"I don't need to see Carson. I need--"
"Don't say it." Sheppard finally reached out, took hold of Rodney's arms, and tried to hurry him back to the door. But Rodney was not only persistent, he was also very stubborn. He dug his heels in, flung his arms around Sheppard's neck, and kissed him soundly.
Sheppard made a sort of "mmph!" sound in his surprise, but he didn't push Rodney away, and that? That was really hot, and so Rodney came up for air a moment later and then kissed him again.
When they stopped -- and, yes, they, Rodney was absolutely smug because Sheppard was kissing him back -- Sheppard looked at him kind of helplessly and said, "Are you sure you're not high?"
"Yes, dammit. I'm not high, and I'm fully in charge of my faculties, and I'm the only one in my head, and, for God's sake, your hand is on my ass."
There was a long pause, and then Sheppard said, "No, it's not."
"Because you just moved it."
There was another pause. "That's not the point."
Rodney didn't want to argue anymore. His arms went back around Sheppard's shoulders and he gave him another kiss. For a good five minutes. Though it wasn't just the one kiss, really, because Rodney didn't like to hold his breath for that long, because then he'd get dizzy, and the last thing he wanted to do was pass out from manly lack of oxygen in the middle of trying to convince somebody that the needed to get sweaty, naked, and horizontal. The order in which these events occurred was flexible.
"So is this your idea of being romantic?" Sheppard asked, teasing and just slightly breathless, when Rodney finally stopped kissing him. His hair was even messier. This time, Rodney had to admit it was his own fault, not Sheppard's.
"It's my idea of being desperate," he said. "So are we doing this or not?"
"I, uh. Well. It's just--um."
"Was that a yes?"
"Yeah."
"Good."
"I just had no idea you--wait. Did you say you were desperate?"
Rodney swallowed. "No."
"Your hand is on my ass."
"That's called groping. Not desperate."
"Fine. Whatever you say, Rodney."
"I do say. Can we be in your bed soon?"
"Well..."
"Don't make me grope you again."
Sheppard laughed, and that? That was hot, too. "What kind of threat is that?" He grabbed Rodney by the sash of his robe and tugged him towards the bed. "You're sure you're not high and that I'm not going to be taking advantage and things aren't going to be awkward later?" he asked, before pushing Rodney down onto his back.
Rodney's response was made by tugging Sheppard down with him and getting very busy making him naked. After that, nothing else mattered so much, although Rodney was starting to suspect that they may need to do this again. It just may take a little bit more than once to get this out of his system.
*
This is a story about a boy named Rodney. But sometimes, it's a story about Rodney and John (although John orbits around Rodney).
Except when it's the other way around.
by
ashinaePairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 at worst
Spoilers: No major plot twists. Assumes you've seen up to 2x02, though.
Disclaimer: Written for fun, not profit. Will return the boys in one piece.
Summary: As far as Rodney was concerned, the story was always about him and the other people in the story orbited around him.
Note: Thanks to
linden_jay for giving this a once-over.Word count: ~1500
This is a story about a boy named Rodney.
At least, that's what Rodney told himself. As far as Rodney was concerned, the story was always about him and the other people in the story orbited around him. That's just the way things were.
Rodney was a smarty-pants.
In fact, his pants were so smart that he'd had universities all over North America throwing money at him, begging him to make them look good. This gave Rodney a very high sense of importance, and further proof for his theory that the story was really just about him.
One day, Rodney's story got very, very interesting. He was given the opportunity of a lifetime: the chance to travel a vast distance across space into another galaxy, through a piece of alien technology known as a stargate. The stargate was very big and very round and created artificial wormholes from Point A to Point B using all sorts of things like science and other sciences, that of course Rodney could tell anyone all about, at great length, but it would just make ordinary people go cross-eyed. Besides, this isn't a story about stargates and science, not really. It's just a story about a boy named Rodney.
The stargate spat him, and a bunch of other people who orbited around him, out in the lost city of the Ancients, Atlantis, where Rodney's whole life was thrown for a bit of a loop. He discovered things like not having enough power for the city, the Wraith, the fact that one of the other scientists was possibly just as much of a smarty-pants as he was, and being chosen to be a member of Major John Sheppard's team.
After the unfortunate events surrounding the discovery of the Wraith in the Pegasus galaxy, Major Sheppard became the ranking military officer in Atlantis, making him very important. Possibly as important as Rodney, but in a different sort of capacity, and this was of great concern. And not only that, but Major Sheppard -- who quickly became Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard -- was also very attractive, had impossible hair, and was kind of a bit of a smarty-pants himself, though he occasionally seemed to like to pretend he wasn't, only to pull out his very smart pants when he felt Rodney was being an ass. Occasionally, they yelled at each other.
A lot.
Whenever Sheppard argued with him, Rodney felt a rising sense of frustration. Why couldn't the man realise how terribly important he was? Why couldn't he realise that Rodney was always, always right, even when he was wrong, which he never was? That was just the way things were, it was a natural sort of order, and, dammit, why did his hair make Rodney's fingers itch to try to tidy it?
Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard, and his hair, and his smart pants, sometimes kept Rodney up at night. He needed to solve the impossible problem of what to do about his frustration.
Eventually, after what Rodney deemed to be the one hundred and thirty-second restless night (not in a row, mind, because wow, he'd be even crankier if he had genuine, consistent insomnia, which he did, once, in college, and it nearly drove him completely 'round the bend), Rodney donned his robe and marched straight to Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard's quarters.
When he opened the door, Sheppard looked bleary. His hair was even more impossibly mussed. "It's three in the morning," he said. His voice was rough from sleep. Or from being awake far too early. That didn't help Rodney's frustration in the least.
"We need to have sex," Rodney said. He lifted his chin in what he hoped was an important, I-mean-business-Colonel! sort of way.
Sheppard blinked a few times. He rubbed a hand over his hair. "Uhhh," he said.
"Sex. You and me. Right now." Rodney crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn't going to be dissuaded.
"Rodney, if this is--"
Rodney wasn't going to hear any arguing. "I mean it. Let me in."
"Are you feeling...?" Sheppard trailed off, yawned, and waved a hand vaguely.
"I'm fine. Let me in."
"No, I think you--"
"John! I mean it."
Sheppard pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes and Rodney took that moment to stealthily push his way into the room so that the doors closed behind him and it was dark and he hoped he'd be able to get his point across a little better.
"Did you just call me John?" Sheppard asked, and he still sounded very tired and confused and that was actually kind of endearing. And even though Rodney couldn't see very well, he reached out, and tried to flatten Sheppard's hair a bit.
"Are you petting me now?"
"It's your hair..."
"Is my hair making you want to have sex with me?"
"No. Well, sort of. It's part of it. I--look, it's just the right thing to do. Trust me."
Sheppard groaned. "Don't say that. When you say that, bad things happen, and I'm not in the mood for that."
"It just doesn't make any sense."
"No, no, it doesn't. Can I go back to bed now, Rodney?"
"No. We really, really need to have sex. Now." Rodney was nothing if not persistent.
"But you've never even--" Sheppard took a step back, away from Rodney's hand, and Rodney couldn't have that so he took a step forward and reached out again.
"I am now," he said.
"Why now?" For a moment, Sheppard was tense, as though he was pondering trying to escape Rodney's hand again.
Clearly Sheppard's stupid hair wasn't going to behave, so Rodney just let his arm fall down to his side. Sheppard continued, "Did you inhale something? Was it those funny flowers? Rodney, are you high off of purple flowers?"
"No, John. I'm not high."
"And since when do you call me John?"
"Since right now. Look, it's just the right thing to do, and it makes sense, and once we get it out of our systems everything can be normal again."
"Nothing's ever normal here," Sheppard said.
"Well, no, it's not, and it makes me a bit crazy, I guess, but if we have sex--"
"Stop, Rodney. I'm taking you to see Carson."
"I don't need to see Carson. I need--"
"Don't say it." Sheppard finally reached out, took hold of Rodney's arms, and tried to hurry him back to the door. But Rodney was not only persistent, he was also very stubborn. He dug his heels in, flung his arms around Sheppard's neck, and kissed him soundly.
Sheppard made a sort of "mmph!" sound in his surprise, but he didn't push Rodney away, and that? That was really hot, and so Rodney came up for air a moment later and then kissed him again.
When they stopped -- and, yes, they, Rodney was absolutely smug because Sheppard was kissing him back -- Sheppard looked at him kind of helplessly and said, "Are you sure you're not high?"
"Yes, dammit. I'm not high, and I'm fully in charge of my faculties, and I'm the only one in my head, and, for God's sake, your hand is on my ass."
There was a long pause, and then Sheppard said, "No, it's not."
"Because you just moved it."
There was another pause. "That's not the point."
Rodney didn't want to argue anymore. His arms went back around Sheppard's shoulders and he gave him another kiss. For a good five minutes. Though it wasn't just the one kiss, really, because Rodney didn't like to hold his breath for that long, because then he'd get dizzy, and the last thing he wanted to do was pass out from manly lack of oxygen in the middle of trying to convince somebody that the needed to get sweaty, naked, and horizontal. The order in which these events occurred was flexible.
"So is this your idea of being romantic?" Sheppard asked, teasing and just slightly breathless, when Rodney finally stopped kissing him. His hair was even messier. This time, Rodney had to admit it was his own fault, not Sheppard's.
"It's my idea of being desperate," he said. "So are we doing this or not?"
"I, uh. Well. It's just--um."
"Was that a yes?"
"Yeah."
"Good."
"I just had no idea you--wait. Did you say you were desperate?"
Rodney swallowed. "No."
"Your hand is on my ass."
"That's called groping. Not desperate."
"Fine. Whatever you say, Rodney."
"I do say. Can we be in your bed soon?"
"Well..."
"Don't make me grope you again."
Sheppard laughed, and that? That was hot, too. "What kind of threat is that?" He grabbed Rodney by the sash of his robe and tugged him towards the bed. "You're sure you're not high and that I'm not going to be taking advantage and things aren't going to be awkward later?" he asked, before pushing Rodney down onto his back.
Rodney's response was made by tugging Sheppard down with him and getting very busy making him naked. After that, nothing else mattered so much, although Rodney was starting to suspect that they may need to do this again. It just may take a little bit more than once to get this out of his system.
This is a story about a boy named Rodney. But sometimes, it's a story about Rodney and John (although John orbits around Rodney).
Except when it's the other way around.