hackthis_archive (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hackthis_archive) wrote2006-01-25 05:01 pm
hackthis_archive) wrote2006-01-25 05:01 pm
Entry tags:
SGA – Unicorns and Dragons and Bears, Oh My!
I'm trying to get a feel for the whole SGA thing, or at least fake it decently, because I have special dispensation this week to write it. Next week is a whole different story. Hopefully by then the urge will be sufficiently beaten to death.
I don't know where the polar bears came from. Blame![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
oxoniensis. And she's to blame for the dragons. And the unicorns. Totally to blame for the unicorns.
Vive la crack!
Stargate: Atlantis
Sheppard/Rodney
Unicorns and Dragons and Bears, Oh My!
John Sheppard has been called a cocktease his entire life. Well, the cock part didn't come until later, but the tease has always been thrown at John when he didn't put out for whatever reason. Apparently, it was assumed that because it was John, or Sheppard, or the Major, or that guy with the low jeans, he was automatically a slut for everyone.
John finds this seriously offensive; he's not a tease.
Despite whatever anyone else might think, John follows through when he wants to follow through, not when other people want him to. He is not a trained boytoy. He doesn't have to roll over and play fuck buddy unless the military tells him to, and he highly doubts that the military would ever tell him to roll over and think of Uncle Sam considering the whole Don't Ask, Don't Tell, Don't Even Breath Wrong sub-culture.
"I am not a cocktease," he hisses angrily at Rodney while they're supposed to be hiding from the rabid polar bears on Tetron.
No one said anything about the rabid polar bears during pre-op rundown, but that's another issue for another day.
In his periphery, he can see Rodney staring at him as though he's lost all his marbles. "Do you really think now is the time for a mental breakdown?"
It's all Rodney's fault with his fluffy hair and practically-alien blue eyes. "I'm not!" John's not wheedling -- at least he doesn't think he is -- but he's a bit stressed with the whole hiding in a tree business, and Rodney's clutching at him way too tightly. "And I'm seriously offended that you, and everyone else, seem to think that I go around trying to get sexual favors from the city. I'm not sleeping with Atlantis!"
John doesn't even quiver when Rodney's hand slaps down on his forehead. Rodney's hand is damp; he's sweating. It's probably nerves, which given the whole hiding-in-a-tree thing is perfectly understandable. "I feel like I should be telling you to shut up right now, because hello, rabid polar bears! And yet, it's obvious you're suffering from some sort of brain rot, and I think that might be more pressing," says Rodney.
John growls.
Actually, that growl wasn't John.
The rabid polar bears on the ground are growling, and Rodney's hand slides down over John's eyes. "I can't see," John points out, "and if I can't see, then I can't protect you from the rabid polar bears."
"Considering you're suffering from brain rot, I'm surprised you even remembered the rabid, man-eating polar bears, and I never said you were a cocktease, I just called you Captain Kirk."
"Same thing."
Rodney just groans. "Do you know how many people would love to be compared to Captain James T. Kirk?"
"Then you can call them a cocktease."
Rodney's hand goes from John's eyes to John's bicep. "Get me out of this tree, and I will." Rodney has a really firm grip. John's not going to fixate on that now. Or later.
"Don’t make me any promises you're not going to keep," John warns.
"Hey, I'm not the tease in this relationship."
*
John knows about teases. Teases don't follow through, they just, well, tease. Teases entice. They wait for other people to come to them. Teases make other people do all the work; John always goes after what he wants.
"I'm not afraid to take what I want," he snaps back at Rodney, resolutely not thinking about the smell of singed hair that's radiating from the top of his head. His entire life he'd thought dragons were a myth, apparently, not on M8X-471.
"Are we still talking about your repression?" Rodney's nails are digging into the thin skin around John's wrist, and John would point this out, but there's a very large, very purple dragon somewhere out there. John's a little preoccupied with being offended and trying to save their lives.
"I am not repressed," John complains, trying very hard not to dwell on the fact that his hair might actually look pretty bad right now. He's not going to ask.
"Of course you're repressed," Rodney's tone is all derision. "All pretty people are repressed to some degree, because they think that other people only want them for their looks. That's why they become teases. It's all about making everyone else suffer."
John's head whirls around fast enough to hear his neck crack; that's going to hurt later. "I am not repressed. I am not a tease. I am trying to save your worthless life, so have some appreciation."
Rodney just rolls his eyes. "Textbook psychological babble would clear that up in no time, you should see Heightmeyer."
Rodney thinks ‘Ring of Fire’ is about a Sexually Transmitted Disease. He says the 'burns, burns, burns' is obviously about any number of unsavory things, like syphilis. He's obviously the one in need of counseling, and John doesn't even have the words to verbalise his contempt so, “You’re out of your fucking mind,” comes out as, “I hate you.”
Rodney just snorts. "Classic cocktease."
John gets to his feet. He'd rather be dragon barbeque than deal with anymore of this.
"Where are you going?" Rodney sounds almost panicked, but Rodney always sounds almost panicked.
"Somewhere you're not."
"Way to pull me into your sexual orbit, Colonel, I can see why everyone wants you."
John just smirks. "I thought it was the hair."
*
John's not repressed, nor is he a tease. He's just attentive, and people always mistake that for other things, like interest. John's not interested in anything but his puddlejumpers and his P90 and ignoring Rodney McKay. It would be a lot easier if Rodney weren't twitching during the debriefing, but John supposes almost being dragon bacon bits could do that to anyone. Except Rodney's not just twitching, he's practically vibrating, and since John's pretty much attuned to The Rodney Channel twenty-four hours a day, he can't help but stare. Rodney's hands keep twirling his pen, and he keeps licking his lips and shifting in his chair. Rodney's entire body is thrumming. It's really, well, hot.
John can't believe that Rodney has the nerve to call him the cocktease. John can't believe that he keeps coming back for more.
He's tried to watch other channels, but they just don’t seem to hold his attention for an extended period of time. The Ascended Ancient Channel is only good if you want to Ascend, and the Wraith Channel gives him nightmares.
The Rodney Channel is never boring, even if it insults your intelligence every five seconds.
*
John’s not the world’s foremost authority on relationships, but he’s been around the proverbial block once or twice, and he’s fairly certain that most relationships are about compromise and not insulting your partner every five seconds. Ergo, it’s no surprise to John that Rodney's still single. The day that Rodney learns to compromise, or keep his mouth shut for longer than five seconds, John will, well, he'll be really fucking surprised.
*
There are unicorns on Pikeon, blue unicorns with gold horns, and this is enough to silence Rodney for the twenty-eight seconds that it takes for the unicorns to realise that John and Rodney are there. After that it's every two-legged creature for himself.
The unicorns are not a euphemism for Rodney calling John names again, or John repressing any sort of sexual thoughts about Rodney. If John had sexual thoughts about Rodney McKay, well, he just wouldn't, because he's in the military, and Rodney's himself, and that way lies disaster.
John doesn't need Rodney's oral fixation on pens and Power Bars in his life. It's hard enough to run from purple dragons and polar bears and blue unicorns with gold horns with Rodney panting behind him. Then the panting is gone, and Rodney's hollering at the top of his lungs.
It takes John's brain a moment to actually process what's going on, and then he's running back, and grabbing Rodney by the front of his BDU. "I swear to god, if you get yourself impaled by a fucking unicorn before we have sex, I will never fucking forgive you," he says, hauling Rodney to his feet and dragging him along.
"I knew you wanted to have sex!" Rodney's stumbling behind him, but John will let go later. "I knew you were repressing your feelings for me!"
"How could anyone repress anything with you talking about cock every five seconds?" John tosses over his shoulder. The jumper is just over the next ridge if he remembers correctly, which he really really hopes he does.
"Are you calling me a cocktease?" Rodney's all incredulousness, but John can hear the unicorns getting closer.
"We can talk about your psychological issues later," he says, propelling Rodney into the jumper ahead of him.
Rodney stops dead in the entryway. "I don't have psychological issues!"
"It's always the cocktease who protests too much," John says, shoving Rodney inside matter-of-factly and closing the door just in time. Who knew that unicorns could make blood-curdling howls like that?
Rodney's face twists into an impressive scowl. "I hate you."
John just winks. "You always know just the right things to say, don't you?"
-end-
Beta by the very fabulouslyra_sena who was clearly sent by the SGA powers to enable me to finish this today.
I don't know where the polar bears came from. Blame
oxoniensis. And she's to blame for the dragons. And the unicorns. Totally to blame for the unicorns. Vive la crack!
Stargate: Atlantis
Sheppard/Rodney
John Sheppard has been called a cocktease his entire life. Well, the cock part didn't come until later, but the tease has always been thrown at John when he didn't put out for whatever reason. Apparently, it was assumed that because it was John, or Sheppard, or the Major, or that guy with the low jeans, he was automatically a slut for everyone.
John finds this seriously offensive; he's not a tease.
Despite whatever anyone else might think, John follows through when he wants to follow through, not when other people want him to. He is not a trained boytoy. He doesn't have to roll over and play fuck buddy unless the military tells him to, and he highly doubts that the military would ever tell him to roll over and think of Uncle Sam considering the whole Don't Ask, Don't Tell, Don't Even Breath Wrong sub-culture.
"I am not a cocktease," he hisses angrily at Rodney while they're supposed to be hiding from the rabid polar bears on Tetron.
No one said anything about the rabid polar bears during pre-op rundown, but that's another issue for another day.
In his periphery, he can see Rodney staring at him as though he's lost all his marbles. "Do you really think now is the time for a mental breakdown?"
It's all Rodney's fault with his fluffy hair and practically-alien blue eyes. "I'm not!" John's not wheedling -- at least he doesn't think he is -- but he's a bit stressed with the whole hiding in a tree business, and Rodney's clutching at him way too tightly. "And I'm seriously offended that you, and everyone else, seem to think that I go around trying to get sexual favors from the city. I'm not sleeping with Atlantis!"
John doesn't even quiver when Rodney's hand slaps down on his forehead. Rodney's hand is damp; he's sweating. It's probably nerves, which given the whole hiding-in-a-tree thing is perfectly understandable. "I feel like I should be telling you to shut up right now, because hello, rabid polar bears! And yet, it's obvious you're suffering from some sort of brain rot, and I think that might be more pressing," says Rodney.
John growls.
Actually, that growl wasn't John.
The rabid polar bears on the ground are growling, and Rodney's hand slides down over John's eyes. "I can't see," John points out, "and if I can't see, then I can't protect you from the rabid polar bears."
"Considering you're suffering from brain rot, I'm surprised you even remembered the rabid, man-eating polar bears, and I never said you were a cocktease, I just called you Captain Kirk."
"Same thing."
Rodney just groans. "Do you know how many people would love to be compared to Captain James T. Kirk?"
"Then you can call them a cocktease."
Rodney's hand goes from John's eyes to John's bicep. "Get me out of this tree, and I will." Rodney has a really firm grip. John's not going to fixate on that now. Or later.
"Don’t make me any promises you're not going to keep," John warns.
"Hey, I'm not the tease in this relationship."
John knows about teases. Teases don't follow through, they just, well, tease. Teases entice. They wait for other people to come to them. Teases make other people do all the work; John always goes after what he wants.
"I'm not afraid to take what I want," he snaps back at Rodney, resolutely not thinking about the smell of singed hair that's radiating from the top of his head. His entire life he'd thought dragons were a myth, apparently, not on M8X-471.
"Are we still talking about your repression?" Rodney's nails are digging into the thin skin around John's wrist, and John would point this out, but there's a very large, very purple dragon somewhere out there. John's a little preoccupied with being offended and trying to save their lives.
"I am not repressed," John complains, trying very hard not to dwell on the fact that his hair might actually look pretty bad right now. He's not going to ask.
"Of course you're repressed," Rodney's tone is all derision. "All pretty people are repressed to some degree, because they think that other people only want them for their looks. That's why they become teases. It's all about making everyone else suffer."
John's head whirls around fast enough to hear his neck crack; that's going to hurt later. "I am not repressed. I am not a tease. I am trying to save your worthless life, so have some appreciation."
Rodney just rolls his eyes. "Textbook psychological babble would clear that up in no time, you should see Heightmeyer."
Rodney thinks ‘Ring of Fire’ is about a Sexually Transmitted Disease. He says the 'burns, burns, burns' is obviously about any number of unsavory things, like syphilis. He's obviously the one in need of counseling, and John doesn't even have the words to verbalise his contempt so, “You’re out of your fucking mind,” comes out as, “I hate you.”
Rodney just snorts. "Classic cocktease."
John gets to his feet. He'd rather be dragon barbeque than deal with anymore of this.
"Where are you going?" Rodney sounds almost panicked, but Rodney always sounds almost panicked.
"Somewhere you're not."
"Way to pull me into your sexual orbit, Colonel, I can see why everyone wants you."
John just smirks. "I thought it was the hair."
John's not repressed, nor is he a tease. He's just attentive, and people always mistake that for other things, like interest. John's not interested in anything but his puddlejumpers and his P90 and ignoring Rodney McKay. It would be a lot easier if Rodney weren't twitching during the debriefing, but John supposes almost being dragon bacon bits could do that to anyone. Except Rodney's not just twitching, he's practically vibrating, and since John's pretty much attuned to The Rodney Channel twenty-four hours a day, he can't help but stare. Rodney's hands keep twirling his pen, and he keeps licking his lips and shifting in his chair. Rodney's entire body is thrumming. It's really, well, hot.
John can't believe that Rodney has the nerve to call him the cocktease. John can't believe that he keeps coming back for more.
He's tried to watch other channels, but they just don’t seem to hold his attention for an extended period of time. The Ascended Ancient Channel is only good if you want to Ascend, and the Wraith Channel gives him nightmares.
The Rodney Channel is never boring, even if it insults your intelligence every five seconds.
John’s not the world’s foremost authority on relationships, but he’s been around the proverbial block once or twice, and he’s fairly certain that most relationships are about compromise and not insulting your partner every five seconds. Ergo, it’s no surprise to John that Rodney's still single. The day that Rodney learns to compromise, or keep his mouth shut for longer than five seconds, John will, well, he'll be really fucking surprised.
There are unicorns on Pikeon, blue unicorns with gold horns, and this is enough to silence Rodney for the twenty-eight seconds that it takes for the unicorns to realise that John and Rodney are there. After that it's every two-legged creature for himself.
The unicorns are not a euphemism for Rodney calling John names again, or John repressing any sort of sexual thoughts about Rodney. If John had sexual thoughts about Rodney McKay, well, he just wouldn't, because he's in the military, and Rodney's himself, and that way lies disaster.
John doesn't need Rodney's oral fixation on pens and Power Bars in his life. It's hard enough to run from purple dragons and polar bears and blue unicorns with gold horns with Rodney panting behind him. Then the panting is gone, and Rodney's hollering at the top of his lungs.
It takes John's brain a moment to actually process what's going on, and then he's running back, and grabbing Rodney by the front of his BDU. "I swear to god, if you get yourself impaled by a fucking unicorn before we have sex, I will never fucking forgive you," he says, hauling Rodney to his feet and dragging him along.
"I knew you wanted to have sex!" Rodney's stumbling behind him, but John will let go later. "I knew you were repressing your feelings for me!"
"How could anyone repress anything with you talking about cock every five seconds?" John tosses over his shoulder. The jumper is just over the next ridge if he remembers correctly, which he really really hopes he does.
"Are you calling me a cocktease?" Rodney's all incredulousness, but John can hear the unicorns getting closer.
"We can talk about your psychological issues later," he says, propelling Rodney into the jumper ahead of him.
Rodney stops dead in the entryway. "I don't have psychological issues!"
"It's always the cocktease who protests too much," John says, shoving Rodney inside matter-of-factly and closing the door just in time. Who knew that unicorns could make blood-curdling howls like that?
Rodney's face twists into an impressive scowl. "I hate you."
John just winks. "You always know just the right things to say, don't you?"
-end-
Beta by the very fabulous
lyra_sena who was clearly sent by the SGA powers to enable me to finish this today.
no subject
I'll have the crack, crack, and a side order of ... oh, *crack*!
Made my cheeks hurt what with all the grinning. And I loved how the boys were all "pfft, rabid polar bears, dragons, unicorns ... big whup (except for the running for their lives parts)."
no subject