stargateficrec | Linguistics, by stillane (NC-17)

Show: Stargate Atlantis

Rec Category: John/Rodney
Categories: Mature, Slash
Warnings: References to Trinity, Aurora/The Hive, Epiphany, Grace Under Pressure
Author on LJ:

stillane
Link: Linguistics

Why This Must Be Read: This is such a sweet, beautiful fic. Five months into a physical relationship with John, Rodney is wondering if they’re on the same page and is especially preoccupied with the three little words he wants so badly to say and is so certain John isn’t able to. The progression of their relationship is slow, and marked by things like Arcturus, but eventually they get where they need to be.

It starts with a comb. Knowing Sheppard, he should have predicted that.

“What, you’re afraid of my hair germs now?” He’s standing in the bathroom doorway, arms crossed, watching John at the sink-approximation. And that device alone makes him constantly thankful he has the gene now. It’s an unmitigated pain in the ass to manually operate a water dispenser made to be primarily thought-controlled. It’s part of the reason he’s never insulted Radek’s hair.

Speaking of which. “I have hair tools, you know. I highly doubt you’ve got anything I haven’t seen before.”

John smirks suggestively at him. He also places the comb to the side, and changes the subject.

A few days later there’s a razor. Then two t-shirts and a pair of boxers. By the close of a fortnight, he’s feeling colonized. He raises an eyebrow at the copy of Moby-Dick on the nightstand, but decides he’s above such childish humor. He forgets that the next time they have sex, when he thinks, “Thar she blows!” at a particularly inappropriate moment and winds up laughing on the floor. John, of course, is neither pleased nor sympathetic.

He’s fully aware that John’s doing this deliberately. Sheppard may be the original rebel without a cause, but the military life peeks through in the little things. He’s not careless with his personal effects. Rodney himself was prone to more neatness than usual when they first came to Atlantis. With the nearest drugstore far out of reach, every item became precious. Now that the Daedalus has become their own personal Walgreens, however, John hasn’t lost that instinct, and Rodney figures it’s a permanent fixture of the man. Given that, every bit he leaves behind here is a statement. Their selection isn’t random, either. Every piece is chosen to be comfortable and anonymous, nothing that would draw suspicion from anyone stumbling across it. Overall, Rodney’s pleased by the migration – absurdly so, if the truth were known – but also rather confused. He’s not sure whether it’s a mark of intent or a placeholder, or something else entirely, and there’s no way in hell he’s going to ask. In the end, he shrugs it off as a weird Sheppard mating ritual, and accepts it as is.