A Change of Seasons by cupidsbow ()
Apr. 17th, 2011 12:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
danceswithgary posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
stargateficrecShow: SGA
Rec Category: John Sheppard
Characters:: Rodney McKay, John Sheppard, OFC
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay, Sheppard/OFC
Het/Slash/Gen: Slash / Het
Warnings: None
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cupidsbow
Author's Website:
Link: A Change of Seasons
Why This Must Be Read:
This story has a John Sheppard that resists being outed to anyone to the point where he won't take what's being offered until he's given a 'safe' way to indulge. In the meantime, his relationship with Rodney evolves over time until John is finally able to accept what they are - in public.
Excerpt:
A change of seasons, and they're lying side by side on a patch of crushed grass, sharing a bottle of Zelenka's hooch. The Athosian's harvest bonfire roars a short distance away, sending embers shooting up to trace fingers of orange across the bright starscape overhead. In the background, the drums are still thudding, a chorus of joyous voices raised in counterpoint, even though few people have enough energy left to dance. The murmur of sleepy conversation fills the darkness on all sides.
Rodney's shoulder is a warm pressure anchoring John to the earth despite the way the alcohol is making his head spin. He feels mellow and connected in a way he hasn't for a long, long time. It's easy to glance over at Rodney's familiar profile, harder to fight back the urge to reach out and lace their fingers together.
Still staring intently at the stars, Rodney sighs and lets the bottle slide away to rest in the crook of his elbow. "Do you ever feel lonely?" he asks, his voice full of melancholy, but not slurred enough for John to think it's just the booze talking.
"No," John says, and it isn't a lie. He tucks his hands into his armpits and watches the rise and fall of cloth and skin as Rodney sighs again, the downturn of his mouth an elegant line in the semi-darkness. Not even close to a lie, with Rodney's shoulder warm and solid and familiar against his own, and John thinks no prize is worth risking this.
Rodney turns his head, looking John straight in the eye. His gaze is steady and knowing, not at all drunk, although tomorrow they'll both pretend he had been. "Don't you ever get tired of saying 'No'?"
John's the one to break first, looking away to watch the bright dance of embers burn through the night.
A long time later, when Rodney's breathing has evened out and deepened into sleep, John says, "Yes," and the word comes out so raw, it hurts his throat to say it.
...
Rec Category: John Sheppard
Characters:: Rodney McKay, John Sheppard, OFC
Pairing: Sheppard/McKay, Sheppard/OFC
Het/Slash/Gen: Slash / Het
Warnings: None
Author on LJ:
cupidsbowAuthor's Website:
Link: A Change of Seasons
Why This Must Be Read:
This story has a John Sheppard that resists being outed to anyone to the point where he won't take what's being offered until he's given a 'safe' way to indulge. In the meantime, his relationship with Rodney evolves over time until John is finally able to accept what they are - in public.
Excerpt:
A change of seasons, and they're lying side by side on a patch of crushed grass, sharing a bottle of Zelenka's hooch. The Athosian's harvest bonfire roars a short distance away, sending embers shooting up to trace fingers of orange across the bright starscape overhead. In the background, the drums are still thudding, a chorus of joyous voices raised in counterpoint, even though few people have enough energy left to dance. The murmur of sleepy conversation fills the darkness on all sides.
Rodney's shoulder is a warm pressure anchoring John to the earth despite the way the alcohol is making his head spin. He feels mellow and connected in a way he hasn't for a long, long time. It's easy to glance over at Rodney's familiar profile, harder to fight back the urge to reach out and lace their fingers together.
Still staring intently at the stars, Rodney sighs and lets the bottle slide away to rest in the crook of his elbow. "Do you ever feel lonely?" he asks, his voice full of melancholy, but not slurred enough for John to think it's just the booze talking.
"No," John says, and it isn't a lie. He tucks his hands into his armpits and watches the rise and fall of cloth and skin as Rodney sighs again, the downturn of his mouth an elegant line in the semi-darkness. Not even close to a lie, with Rodney's shoulder warm and solid and familiar against his own, and John thinks no prize is worth risking this.
Rodney turns his head, looking John straight in the eye. His gaze is steady and knowing, not at all drunk, although tomorrow they'll both pretend he had been. "Don't you ever get tired of saying 'No'?"
John's the one to break first, looking away to watch the bright dance of embers burn through the night.
A long time later, when Rodney's breathing has evened out and deepened into sleep, John says, "Yes," and the word comes out so raw, it hurts his throat to say it.
...
