![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mific posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
stargateficrecShows: SGA
Rec Category: John Sheppard/Rodney McKay
Characters: John Sheppard/Rodney McKay, Evan Lorne, Elizabeth Weir
Categories: M/M
Words: 5721
Warnings: no AO3-type warnings apply
Author on DW: n/a
Author's Website: mandysbitch on Wayback
Link: Artistry in Chaos on Wayback
Why This Must Be Read: This is an interesting, well-written story following John and Rodney's encounters and their relationship across the years as they move from sexual hookups to feelings (never fully discussed as their communication is, for the most part, terrible) - all interwoven with John musing about physics. John thinks he needs to call it off due to DADT, but in the end Lorne provides the impetus for a better solution. Some might feel it ends a little ambiguously but to me it's a happy ending, and I like the humor, wit and bluntness of the writing. An excellent read.
John refills their glasses. “So I go to this gay bar in the next town where Shannon is one of the locals. He buys me a drink, tells me he likes my shirt and asks if he can take the seat next to me. I stammer a lot but eventually say yes. We talk, drink and make a date to meet next same time next week. That simple.” John chinks his shot glass against Rodney’s and they drink in unison. “So I drive into town the next week thinking I’m going to get lucky. I stop at one of the local drug stores to buy some Trojans because I figure it’s better to be prepared than disappointed, right? The pharmacist takes one look at my hair and my shirt and gives me this look like he’s figured me out. I think, what the hell, there’s an asshole in everyone’s day and I’m just glad mine wasn’t carrying a baseball bat.”
“Or a comb,” Rodney says.
John ignores him. “So I meet my date,” he says. “And eventually we go back to this two-story, two garage place in a good suburb. I’m thinking there’s no way this guy owns the house when he tells me he lives with his parents. He says they’re probably asleep and he’s not expecting them to visit but if they ask about his late night company he just tells them he’s keeping his drunken friends off the streets. Which would have been fine by me, only the next morning we’re having coffee in the kitchen and Shannon’s father walks in. He looks at me and I look at him and turns out we know each other. I met him the night before when he sold me condoms.”
“Perfect,” Rodney says. “What did you do?”
John shrugs. “I said, ‘nice seeing you’ and got out of there. I figure Shannon and his father were about to have a nice long chat and they didn’t need me around.”
“And you think this was a sign?” Rodney says. “A warning of sorts.”
“I’m just saying,” John says, he reaches for the vodka, focuses intently on his glass as he pours. “Hell of a coincidence.”
Rodney is skeptical. “A coincidence usually isn’t. Two seemingly related random events have more differences than commonalities. Of course, it’s the commonalities that stand out.” Rodney slurs his words so that “coincidence” sounds like “coinshidence” and “commonalities” becomes “commonaliteesh.” He doesn’t seem to notice.
John gets the giggles. Rodney looks confused. John stops laughing long enough to pour Rodney a refill and toast Shannon the pharmacist’s son. They sink their shots simultaneously.
“It’s… ironic,” John says.
“No, Alanis, it’s not,” Rodney says. “It’s poetic.”
“I never knew you liked poetry,” John says.
“I never knew you liked boys,” Rodney says.
John remembers there was a reason he never told anyone that story.
Rec Category: John Sheppard/Rodney McKay
Characters: John Sheppard/Rodney McKay, Evan Lorne, Elizabeth Weir
Categories: M/M
Words: 5721
Warnings: no AO3-type warnings apply
Author on DW: n/a
Author's Website: mandysbitch on Wayback
Link: Artistry in Chaos on Wayback
Why This Must Be Read: This is an interesting, well-written story following John and Rodney's encounters and their relationship across the years as they move from sexual hookups to feelings (never fully discussed as their communication is, for the most part, terrible) - all interwoven with John musing about physics. John thinks he needs to call it off due to DADT, but in the end Lorne provides the impetus for a better solution. Some might feel it ends a little ambiguously but to me it's a happy ending, and I like the humor, wit and bluntness of the writing. An excellent read.
John refills their glasses. “So I go to this gay bar in the next town where Shannon is one of the locals. He buys me a drink, tells me he likes my shirt and asks if he can take the seat next to me. I stammer a lot but eventually say yes. We talk, drink and make a date to meet next same time next week. That simple.” John chinks his shot glass against Rodney’s and they drink in unison. “So I drive into town the next week thinking I’m going to get lucky. I stop at one of the local drug stores to buy some Trojans because I figure it’s better to be prepared than disappointed, right? The pharmacist takes one look at my hair and my shirt and gives me this look like he’s figured me out. I think, what the hell, there’s an asshole in everyone’s day and I’m just glad mine wasn’t carrying a baseball bat.”
“Or a comb,” Rodney says.
John ignores him. “So I meet my date,” he says. “And eventually we go back to this two-story, two garage place in a good suburb. I’m thinking there’s no way this guy owns the house when he tells me he lives with his parents. He says they’re probably asleep and he’s not expecting them to visit but if they ask about his late night company he just tells them he’s keeping his drunken friends off the streets. Which would have been fine by me, only the next morning we’re having coffee in the kitchen and Shannon’s father walks in. He looks at me and I look at him and turns out we know each other. I met him the night before when he sold me condoms.”
“Perfect,” Rodney says. “What did you do?”
John shrugs. “I said, ‘nice seeing you’ and got out of there. I figure Shannon and his father were about to have a nice long chat and they didn’t need me around.”
“And you think this was a sign?” Rodney says. “A warning of sorts.”
“I’m just saying,” John says, he reaches for the vodka, focuses intently on his glass as he pours. “Hell of a coincidence.”
Rodney is skeptical. “A coincidence usually isn’t. Two seemingly related random events have more differences than commonalities. Of course, it’s the commonalities that stand out.” Rodney slurs his words so that “coincidence” sounds like “coinshidence” and “commonalities” becomes “commonaliteesh.” He doesn’t seem to notice.
John gets the giggles. Rodney looks confused. John stops laughing long enough to pour Rodney a refill and toast Shannon the pharmacist’s son. They sink their shots simultaneously.
“It’s… ironic,” John says.
“No, Alanis, it’s not,” Rodney says. “It’s poetic.”
“I never knew you liked poetry,” John says.
“I never knew you liked boys,” Rodney says.
John remembers there was a reason he never told anyone that story.
