Title: Floating Without the Glowing
Author: Bonster (e-mail some feedback)
Rating: T with a mild M slant at one point
Pairings: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Warnings: Self-indulgent schmoopy angsty'ish yadda
Word Count: About 1,500
Summary: Spontaneous kissing post Tao of Rodney.
Spoilers: Tao of Rodney
Author's Notes: All mistakes are totally my lamebrain own.
Disclaimer: This is strictly non-profit fan work.

John Sheppard runs into Rodney McKay walking down a brightly-lit corridor. John's going one direction, Rodney the other. Rodney is smiling, head so far in the happy clouds he's damn near floating. Except, you know, he can't float himself, or other people, anymore. Though John isn't sure he floated himself when he could anyway.

So. Gliding down the hallway. Sauntering, maybe?

John'll think about it later.

"Hey, Rodney."

Rodney cocks his head a little, his smile, somehow, becoming the tiniest bit more pleased. "I'm not dead." He grins widely.

John can't help but smile back. "You're not."

John keeps his senses open, checking for anyone in the hallway. No sounds, no sights of feet. They're alone right now.

Being one for spontaneous and sometimes risky behavior, he walks up to Rodney and stands about one inch away--the other man clearly still happy about the not-being-dead thing--and kisses him. John brings his hands up to Rodney's face, nearly caressing but mostly just resting them there.

Rodney responds. John can still feel his smile.

With a sound that's half sigh, half something really endearing, Rodney's mouth opens, and their tongues meet for a few slow, sliding movements. It's light and weighty all at once. It also grows heated fast, and their hands are grasping at one another, and John is backing Rodney against a wall. Neither are getting enough air, both are getting hard.

Rodney breaks the kiss with a slumping motion. "Wait, wait, wait," he says, gasping.

John just nods, looking from Rodney's slightly swollen, slightly wet lips to his eyes, which though looking straight at him, are definitely looking at something only Rodney can see.

His senses being fried, John hopes no one's entered the hallway.

"Did you," Rodney starts, and then stands a little taller, composing himself (which John admonishes himself not to pout about, because hey, Rodney kissed back). "Did you feel this way before? Before I was, you know, nearly-ascended?"

John feels a sheepish look come across his face. In hindsight, he can see that he did. All the times he could've gotten laid, but didn't, instead hanging out with his team, or just Rodney. Maybe in his lab, maybe in Rodney's quarters, maybe in John's quarters, maybe at Radek's, maybe at Lorne's. So. A lot. Of hanging. With Rodney.

John even commandeered a chair for his own quarters that he considers Rodney's chair. Even though Rodney's never sat in it. John knows he'd like it if he did.

And really, that's a ridiculously romantic gesture, as far as John is concerned. And, point of fact, it was months ago. So if anything he's been feeling this way for... awhile. And didn't realize it.

Hello, denial. You're not just a river in Egypt.

"I didn't know I wanted to kiss you," John says, a bit wonderingly. He thinks that sentence could cover, sort of, the inevitibility of today and his past feelings in one fell swoop.

Maybe.

Rodney looks thoughtful, raises his chin. "That doesn't answer my question."

John feels something like irritation stirring, but clamps down on it. He says, "I just felt like kissing you, Rodney. I didn't know I wanted to kiss you before..." John can't find the words. Before, when I did, but didn't know.

"Before. Implying something happened to change your line of thinking. Could that something possibly be my near-ascension? Oh, yes, yes, I think so. I know so, Colonel." Rodney looks somehow pitying and sympathetic, but determined.

Pitying? What the hell?

"Look, Rodney-" John is cut off by Rodney waving a dismissive gesture and moving to the side.

"John," Rodney states clearly. And wow, when did Rodney last say his name? John doesn't remember. He does remember it was with neither this kind of focus, nor that patronizing tone.

"John, I do think you're attractive, but I don't want to be another in a long line of ascended/nearly ascended bimbos. I'm sorry, but I just... I want the equation to be balanced."

John's senses and brain are still fried, but he's coming around to more rational thoughts and behavior, if by rational one means he wants to whack Rodney upside his overblown head. A head that is utterly and completely full of hot air. Because christ, all they've done is kiss, and not even for five whole minutes. And whatever this is, it's already ten ways of difficult.

"Rodney. You're not a bimbo. You're not some glowy conquest that means nothing. You're not a notch in my bedpost. You're... you. You have to trust me."

Rodney looks slightly pained. "I trust you with my life, Colonel. I," Rodney pauses. "This is going to sound incredibly womanish, but," He gathers himself up, determination in every inch of being. "But I don't think I trust you with my heart." He walks away.

Ow. Ow.

This sucks.

# # # #

Someone had rigged up speakers or an intercom or maybe some weird telepathy thing--John didn't bother finding out which, as that's what he had Lorne for--in the mess, and every day, there'd be two to three hours of requests and a few dedications (a scary amount which was requested by Kavanaugh to someone named Esmeralda). You put in your request to Heightmeyer, of all people. John guesses that way she can touch base with you, and that if you request something with words like 'murder, death, kill', she notes it in your file.

But yes. He hands in his little request/dedication card, on which he had put both his request and a specific time.

Now he has to decide whom to bring in on his plan that 1) won't embarrass Rodney, because anyone with a brain is going to realize what the song and dedication is about, 2) won't embarrass John, and 3) will be happy or at least fine with a John/Rodney... thing.

# # # #

John finds Radek in the lab, Rodney nowhere in sight to John's relief.

"Radek! Hi."

Radek nods and continues typing at his laptop.

"Can you do me a favor?"

Radek stops typing. Pushes up his glasses, leans back, and crosses his arms. "Perhaps."

"Can you get Rodney into the mess tomorrow at 1100?"

"Incentive?"

"Uh," John rubs hand along the back of his neck, thinking.

"Rodney will be iracible at that time of day. He will only be on third cup of coffee. I am not willing to lose what little hair I have left for mere promise of recompense."

"Okay, then. So, what do you want?" John put on his best 'I can get anything from anyone' expression.

"Tulips."

John blinks.

Radek snorts. "Not for me. For someone else."

Before John can ask whom their for, Radek brings his hands together and says, "1100. Tomorrow. Mess. With Rodney. Got it. I want tulips by end of week." He turns back to his laptop.

As he leaves the lab, John wonders how he's going to get tulips. Then he remembers with a mental headslap: botanists. He also remembers that Rodney dated one, a red-head, but John is seriously not going to ask her to help him out. But the one on Lorne's team... Parrish! He can ask him.

Perfect.

# # # #

John heard the story from Radek, days later, as John was not-hiding, just not-being-seen in his quarters at the appointed hour. How Rodney, very grumpy Rodney, went to the mess, grabbed a pudding cup and sat down with Radek. Then when the dedication came on, he stopped inhaling the pudding and turned red and more red as the song followed.

"This dedication is from our very own military CO, John Sheppard. His dedication, short and sweet, is 'I trust you with mine.' Here you go. You Were Always On My Mind, version by Willie Nelson."

After the song finishes, he somehow hadn't run out of the mess, but remained, just staring at his nearly empty pudding cup. After ten minutes, and Radek had finished his own snack, he turned to Rodney and elbowed him. He said, "Go."

Rodney had nodded distractedly, left his pudding cup, and headed to John's quarters.

# # # #

John's trying to read War and Peace, but it's not working. He has to pay close attention to all the names and events and dialogue, and he's just a bit distracted, eyeing the clock every few seconds.

He hears the chime of the door. He feels his heartbeat pick up. He commands the door to open.

And there's Rodney, wringing his hands, barreling inside, absently thinking the doors shut behind him.

"Rodney," John says in way of greeting.

"I'm not a girl."

John smiles, puts his book on the table. "Yes, Rodney. I'm aware."

"I'm not leaving this plane of existence anytime soon."

"Good."

Rodney nods, walks forward, leans down, and kisses John.

John smiles. And feels like he's floating.

You Were Always on My Mind
Maybe I didn't love you
Quite as often as I could have
Maybe I didn't treat you
Quite as good as I should have
If I made you feel second best
Girl I'm sorry I was blind

You were always on my mind
You were always on my mind

Maybe I didn't hold you
All those lonely, lonely times
And I guess I never told you
I'm so happy that you're mine
Little things I should have said and done
I just never took the time

You were always on my mind
You were always on my mind

Tell me, tell me that your
Sweet love hasn't died
And give me
Give me one more chance
To keep you satisfied

Little things I should have
Said and done
I just never took the time

You were always on my mind

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