something new SGA
Jun. 4th, 2011 11:23 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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sga_saturday
Each week you get a prompt and then have to write something and how hard can that be? right?
Well I can't normally manage to write anything short, so maybe not so good as I wear my typing figer to the bone (maybe you guys will be happy though eh?)
So the first prompt was
"Coffee"
and here it is
a little John and Rodney
Probably NC17.
Disclaimer
Ah, you know, no money! No harm! If only they were mine ect.
Coffee and Love
It took a couple of months for John to realise that the SGC had left a few things out of that briefing they gave him before he signed up. Initially the side effect hadn’t been apparent. At first there was O’Neill giving him the stink-eye every time he went through the gate in those weeks leading up to their departure, that must have made a difference. Even after they arrived in Atlantis the side effect to faster-than-light travel wasn’t immediately apparent, because he had Sumner instead, giving him even more of a hairy eye-ball than O’Neill.
Of course in those first few months he’d had to kill Sumner and take over command, and he’d woken the Wraith, and begun to comprehend exactly what the consequences of that were. And there had been the whole turning into a bug thing, well maybe it was understandable that he hadn’t felt the full effects of his reaction to wormhole travel.
Then one day, maybe eleven months in, he stepped through the gate, back to that cool feeling of Atlantis welcoming him home, a kind of shiver of power and expectation that shimmered beneath his skin and fizzed in his gut like he’d just drunk a glass of Alka-Seltzer. He had been following McKay, letting the usual barrage of words wash over him. The secret to McKay was similar to a technique an old CO had taught him for getting through the volumes of paperwork the military seemed to generate. You simply skim down the middle and you’ll pick out what’s important. So John did that, conversation-wise,
with whatever rant McKay was on at the time.
McKay was yapping about the latest hissy-fit he’d thrown in the Labs, John tuned in, in time to hear McKay say “Blah blah blah….. Moronic of course, still…. Blah blah….. Doable in the right situation I suppose blah blah .... Under the table when I was finished with him….. Blah blah blah …. Nothing discreet about that package blah blah…..”
And that’s when the unexpected side effect of faster-than-light travel hit John, right between …. somewhere south of his belt.
John had hastily loosened the fastenings on his thigh holster to ease up the pressure, and he unclipped his P90 and held it a little lower, thankfully it was enough to camouflage his problem. Plus his briefs were pretty snug, he’d meant to complain again because the laundry seemed to be forever mixing up his stuff, or maybe shrinking it, and John didn’t know what he hated worse, the idea he was wearing someone else’s underwear or the idea that his nice roomy, comfortable boxers were gone forever. But now he was grateful because at least his unfortunate side-effect was all nicely confined and not too obvious. Even if it made every step feel like the tight elastic was squeezing his hard-on against his thigh.
Hoping for distraction he tuned back in to McKay in time to hear “…overcome the friction with sufficient lubrication…”
John wondered if it was another unexpected side effect of faster-than-light travel, that every word out of McKay’s mouth from now on would sound like the script from a bad sci-fi gay-sex-chat-line, call Ass Masters of the universe now! or listen to Rodney the astrophysicist moan! John clenched everything, willing his dick to co-operate and his balls to stop throbbing because now all he could hear was McKay saying the word lubrication over and over.
He made it to the armoury and luckily someone had left a couple of files on the counter which he grabbed as replacement camouflage He turned to McKay and Twyla and said, “I just have something, I need to do. I’ll see you at the de-brief in ten minutes.” John headed off towards the transport as fast as his uncomfortable reaction to wormhole travel, his bad-ass military leader of Atlantis attitude, and his over tight underwear would allow.
He was nearly there when Ronon caught up with him, and muttered. “I got the same problem.”
John cleared his throat and managed a manly, “You do?” but he couldn’t help that as he turned to look at Ronon he checked first to see how evident Ronon’s problem was.
Surprisingly, given just how tight those pants were, the problem was not at all evident.
John looked up and met Ronon’s amused stare and felt his face heat up.
“Yeah, bacon at breakfast tasted like ten day old runk meat. Gut’s been churning all day.” Ronon smiled even bigger, and continued. “Don‘t worry, I won’t stink up the public bathroom again, I’ll use my quarters.”
John gave him a tight little smile and said. “Appreciate it big guy.”
Finally John made it back to his room. He managed to get his pants open and his hand in there and then it was just frantic. His hand was almost too tight and rough as he pulled his dick, his face was screwed up tight, his balls felt hot and heavy where the tightness of his briefs pushed them up against the inside of his thighs. He pushed his other hand down there and used it to squeeze his balls up tight against his body until he could feel the pressure low in his gut.
His other hand was busy stripping his dick and every time he slid his fist down it banged into his balls where he had them pushed up and it ramped the pressure up until his whole body was tight and all he could think was wanna come, wanna come. Oh fuck! Oooh God! Wanna come now! When it finally happened it felt so good inside it almost hurt, and he lost all feeling below the knees for several moments.
After that first time John began to take note.
It didn’t happen every time. And to be fair, sometimes there were other factors that might have led to a hard-on. Any kind of fire-fight, flying the jumper, obviously, returning with something that might turn out to be a very big ray gun, the way some cultures seemed to embrace full frontal nudity and the way cultural exchanges that involved the happy naked people also seemed to involve alien cake that turned out to be like Viagra brownies.
But even allowing for all of that there were enough times when there was no reason, It was just him and Rodney, Teyla and Ronon trudging back to the gate after a hard day poking and scanning rocks or negotiating for Tormack and Tuttle Root and John would swear that the last thing on his mind was getting some.
Then he’d step through the gate, and Kerr-ching! The conversation that started on planet dust with Rodney saying to John, “I’ll run these samples…blah blah blah …. the lab…blah blah… nothing to …” and then stepping into the even horizon and out the other side to continue “work up a sweat…blah blah….enough of a handful….blah blah blah….hot and bothered…..” And.John’s very personal side effect of faster-than-light-travel would be making its presence felt.
A couple of times he tried to ask Rodney in a round about way if this was some kind of known phenomena, but he’d asked about the know side-effects of faster-than-light- travel and got a half hour lecture about sun-spots and time travel. He tried again asking about friction during wormhole travel and at first he though he might have finally got somewhere when Rodney had invited John back to his room.
John had gone, feeling heat in his face that wasn‘t just embarrassment when Rodney had smiled knowingly and said. “I know what you need.” And his blush had risen even more furiously when he had followed Rodney into his quarters and straight to the odd shaped Ancient wall art that filled the wall behind his bed and had a lot of useful nooks and crannies so Rodney used it like a bedside cabinet, He’d grabbed a tube and slapped it into John‘s hand with a smirk.
John had glanced down, and yeah it was a tube of something, something Rodney probably used to ease friction. John swallowed and looked at Rodney again.
Rodney had smiled and said. “Well go on then.”
John had glanced at the tube, and yeah it had definitely looked like lube. He looked up at Rodney again and detected the subtle signs that McKay was getting impatient. Rodney snapped his fingers and said “Use as much as you want..”
John swallowed and reached for his belt and McKay almost screeched, “Not here, obviously. Take it with you. A couple of applications should clear up the chafing.”
“Chafing?”
“With the friction and the binding in the….” And McKay waved his hands in a way that was probably meant to suggest something “In the afflicted area.”
John looked at the tube of lube again and noticed it boasted it was anaesthetic and antiseptic and non-greasy and figured those weren’t the optimal qualities for lube, and that Rodney probably thought ‘friction in the wormhole’ was some kind of SGC/military slang for Jock Itch. So he thanked McKay and beat a hasty retreat back to his own quarters. He vowed that whatever happened he’d deal his side-effects, whatever they might be, alone.
The years passed, and even John, who genuinely never ever saw it coming, had to reluctantly indulge in a little introspection. Which led to a degree of self awareness, and eventually the admission that this very particular side-effect he was experiencing had more to do with Rodney than with the strange effect travelling through the Stargate had on his molecules.
True to form of course, this personal revelation had the worst timing ever. For no sooner had John acknowledged that maybe, just possibly, the reason he sucked so mightily at relationships was because he had been attempting them with the wrong gender, then Rodney hooked up with Dr Barbie.
It was ridiculous.
John found himself imagining elaborate scenarios where Keller revealed herself to be a cyborg/replicator/hologram/fake doctor/gold-digging man-eater and John had to save Rodney from her nasty, sticky, grabby little pink hands.
But it was kind of okay, because of course really it would never happen.
Even when John thought his heart was going to break. When he was the only one Rodney knew. The only one Rodney trusted. That trust, those precious moments when Rodney turned to him, was so very heart-felt and so utterly innocent that the furthest thing from John’s mind was the idea that Rodney McKay was it for him.
John was so resigned to never having what his body continued to remind him at odd, inconvenient times, that it wanted that even when the changes to the Uniform Code were announced it didn’t really seem like it affected him. Even when Rodney and Keller split up, with an incredibly vicious mutual hurling-of-abuse in the commissary that resulted in Keller packing up her bags and storming off Atlantis the same day, and still John thought of it in terms of cheering Rodney up, rather than him having another chance.
And maybe life would have carried on that way for John, back in the Pegasus Galaxy again. Being an uncle to Torren. Being best man for Ronon when he married his Amelia. Being pals with McKay until the next nubile blonde came along and caught his friend’s eye.
Then things went to hell quicker than you could say snap! Only this time it was Earth, and the SGC and the Lucien Alliance. Suddenly Woolsey was back and forth for meetings with McKay and Carter, and everyone was talking about Destiny, but no one was actually telling John what was going on.
When it finally happened, McKay went through the gate at six am, Atlantis time and John had no idea he was even gone until about noon when he mentioned finding McKay and heading to the Commissary for lunch and Chuck said that McKay had left Atlantis that morning, for some special mission.
It was a week before McKay returned.
John was there, by chance, when the gate activated. He watched as the chevrons lit up and the event horizon whooshed and McKay stepped through.
Rodney looked up and their eyes met and John was aching so hard he almost stopped breathing for a second. The unexpected side effects of faster-than-light travel even when John wasn’t the one doing the travelling. But this time something was different.
McKay marched up the stairs and cornered John, crowding him until his back hit the wall up near the transporter, it was an alcove, hidden from view. Rodney glared at John, then took a swig of the coffee he was still holding. John had noticed the cup when Rodney first stepped through.
Rodney grimaced, glaring at the cup like the coffee had betrayed him. “Cold” was all he muttered and dropped the paper cup on to a near by table. He grabbed John’s face, his hands cupping his cheeks surprisingly gently, pulling him forward until their lips met.
Nothing was like this. John had kissed people before. Even people he really really liked. But it had never been like kissing Rodney. It had never felt like this one touch of lips on his had felt. Like he was owned, like it was meant to be this way.
John heard the sound that came out of his mouth. A hungry, desperate, yearning sound that made him flush with shame even as his mouth and lips were making more of the same greedy desperate noises, Taking what they could from Rodney’s mouth.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
McKay was muttering as he bit at John’s lips, pushy and a little vicious as he took what he wanted.
“I didn’t know.” John gasped, between kisses, “And you were with Katie, then with Keller!”
“Mmmhh.” Rodney grumbled while he was groping at John’s clothes, then he pulled away and slapped his hand on the transporter button and the door slid open immediately. John and Rodney stumbled inside and then out again in the corridor by Rodney’s quarters.
"What did you tell that moron Telford about me?" Rodney gasped between hard kisses along John's neck.
"Nothing!" John moaned, and then pushed Rodney back so he could stare in his eyes and ask, "Why? What were you doing with Telford?"
Rodney smirked, and said roughly, "Oh you know, a little diplomacy mission, a little military incursion, and generally saving the SGC and the planet's ass, with Woolsey's help."
John might have asked for more details but as Rodney's hand was squirming its way down the back of John's pants and Rodney's body was pushing against John creating just the right amount of pressure John was happy to shelve the rest of his quiestions til later. And anyway at last they were in Rodney’s room.
Then it was fire and famine, hunger and a desperate need to be naked and to be on one another. Holding one another. Everything was hot and fast and yesand more and not enough.
John lay in the aftermath of this passion. He was half in and half out of his clothes. He was panting from the way he had just come. And Rodney was over him, panting like he’d run a mile, his mouth covering John's. His breath hot and damp on John’s skin.
John let himself feel it, feel the easy way thier bodies lay together in the afterglow. It was nothing like the usual awkwardnes John felt with someone new. There was no elbow or knee in the wrong place. There was no relaisation that wow, John really was kind of hairy and boney. John waited to see what McKay would say, but he wasn't worried, for the first time ever, he knew it was going to be okay.
Rodney trailed a finger up and down across the sweet spot on John's back, he was smiling and his voice lazy and warm and he said "They have a saying in Germany, coffee and love are best when they’re hot.”
The end
sga_saturdayEach week you get a prompt and then have to write something and how hard can that be? right?
Well I can't normally manage to write anything short, so maybe not so good as I wear my typing figer to the bone (maybe you guys will be happy though eh?)
So the first prompt was
"Coffee"
and here it is
a little John and Rodney
Probably NC17.
Disclaimer
Ah, you know, no money! No harm! If only they were mine ect.
Coffee and Love
It took a couple of months for John to realise that the SGC had left a few things out of that briefing they gave him before he signed up. Initially the side effect hadn’t been apparent. At first there was O’Neill giving him the stink-eye every time he went through the gate in those weeks leading up to their departure, that must have made a difference. Even after they arrived in Atlantis the side effect to faster-than-light travel wasn’t immediately apparent, because he had Sumner instead, giving him even more of a hairy eye-ball than O’Neill.
Of course in those first few months he’d had to kill Sumner and take over command, and he’d woken the Wraith, and begun to comprehend exactly what the consequences of that were. And there had been the whole turning into a bug thing, well maybe it was understandable that he hadn’t felt the full effects of his reaction to wormhole travel.
Then one day, maybe eleven months in, he stepped through the gate, back to that cool feeling of Atlantis welcoming him home, a kind of shiver of power and expectation that shimmered beneath his skin and fizzed in his gut like he’d just drunk a glass of Alka-Seltzer. He had been following McKay, letting the usual barrage of words wash over him. The secret to McKay was similar to a technique an old CO had taught him for getting through the volumes of paperwork the military seemed to generate. You simply skim down the middle and you’ll pick out what’s important. So John did that, conversation-wise,
with whatever rant McKay was on at the time.
McKay was yapping about the latest hissy-fit he’d thrown in the Labs, John tuned in, in time to hear McKay say “Blah blah blah….. Moronic of course, still…. Blah blah….. Doable in the right situation I suppose blah blah .... Under the table when I was finished with him….. Blah blah blah …. Nothing discreet about that package blah blah…..”
And that’s when the unexpected side effect of faster-than-light travel hit John, right between …. somewhere south of his belt.
John had hastily loosened the fastenings on his thigh holster to ease up the pressure, and he unclipped his P90 and held it a little lower, thankfully it was enough to camouflage his problem. Plus his briefs were pretty snug, he’d meant to complain again because the laundry seemed to be forever mixing up his stuff, or maybe shrinking it, and John didn’t know what he hated worse, the idea he was wearing someone else’s underwear or the idea that his nice roomy, comfortable boxers were gone forever. But now he was grateful because at least his unfortunate side-effect was all nicely confined and not too obvious. Even if it made every step feel like the tight elastic was squeezing his hard-on against his thigh.
Hoping for distraction he tuned back in to McKay in time to hear “…overcome the friction with sufficient lubrication…”
John wondered if it was another unexpected side effect of faster-than-light travel, that every word out of McKay’s mouth from now on would sound like the script from a bad sci-fi gay-sex-chat-line, call Ass Masters of the universe now! or listen to Rodney the astrophysicist moan! John clenched everything, willing his dick to co-operate and his balls to stop throbbing because now all he could hear was McKay saying the word lubrication over and over.
He made it to the armoury and luckily someone had left a couple of files on the counter which he grabbed as replacement camouflage He turned to McKay and Twyla and said, “I just have something, I need to do. I’ll see you at the de-brief in ten minutes.” John headed off towards the transport as fast as his uncomfortable reaction to wormhole travel, his bad-ass military leader of Atlantis attitude, and his over tight underwear would allow.
He was nearly there when Ronon caught up with him, and muttered. “I got the same problem.”
John cleared his throat and managed a manly, “You do?” but he couldn’t help that as he turned to look at Ronon he checked first to see how evident Ronon’s problem was.
Surprisingly, given just how tight those pants were, the problem was not at all evident.
John looked up and met Ronon’s amused stare and felt his face heat up.
“Yeah, bacon at breakfast tasted like ten day old runk meat. Gut’s been churning all day.” Ronon smiled even bigger, and continued. “Don‘t worry, I won’t stink up the public bathroom again, I’ll use my quarters.”
John gave him a tight little smile and said. “Appreciate it big guy.”
Finally John made it back to his room. He managed to get his pants open and his hand in there and then it was just frantic. His hand was almost too tight and rough as he pulled his dick, his face was screwed up tight, his balls felt hot and heavy where the tightness of his briefs pushed them up against the inside of his thighs. He pushed his other hand down there and used it to squeeze his balls up tight against his body until he could feel the pressure low in his gut.
His other hand was busy stripping his dick and every time he slid his fist down it banged into his balls where he had them pushed up and it ramped the pressure up until his whole body was tight and all he could think was wanna come, wanna come. Oh fuck! Oooh God! Wanna come now! When it finally happened it felt so good inside it almost hurt, and he lost all feeling below the knees for several moments.
After that first time John began to take note.
It didn’t happen every time. And to be fair, sometimes there were other factors that might have led to a hard-on. Any kind of fire-fight, flying the jumper, obviously, returning with something that might turn out to be a very big ray gun, the way some cultures seemed to embrace full frontal nudity and the way cultural exchanges that involved the happy naked people also seemed to involve alien cake that turned out to be like Viagra brownies.
But even allowing for all of that there were enough times when there was no reason, It was just him and Rodney, Teyla and Ronon trudging back to the gate after a hard day poking and scanning rocks or negotiating for Tormack and Tuttle Root and John would swear that the last thing on his mind was getting some.
Then he’d step through the gate, and Kerr-ching! The conversation that started on planet dust with Rodney saying to John, “I’ll run these samples…blah blah blah …. the lab…blah blah… nothing to …” and then stepping into the even horizon and out the other side to continue “work up a sweat…blah blah….enough of a handful….blah blah blah….hot and bothered…..” And.John’s very personal side effect of faster-than-light-travel would be making its presence felt.
A couple of times he tried to ask Rodney in a round about way if this was some kind of known phenomena, but he’d asked about the know side-effects of faster-than-light- travel and got a half hour lecture about sun-spots and time travel. He tried again asking about friction during wormhole travel and at first he though he might have finally got somewhere when Rodney had invited John back to his room.
John had gone, feeling heat in his face that wasn‘t just embarrassment when Rodney had smiled knowingly and said. “I know what you need.” And his blush had risen even more furiously when he had followed Rodney into his quarters and straight to the odd shaped Ancient wall art that filled the wall behind his bed and had a lot of useful nooks and crannies so Rodney used it like a bedside cabinet, He’d grabbed a tube and slapped it into John‘s hand with a smirk.
John had glanced down, and yeah it was a tube of something, something Rodney probably used to ease friction. John swallowed and looked at Rodney again.
Rodney had smiled and said. “Well go on then.”
John had glanced at the tube, and yeah it had definitely looked like lube. He looked up at Rodney again and detected the subtle signs that McKay was getting impatient. Rodney snapped his fingers and said “Use as much as you want..”
John swallowed and reached for his belt and McKay almost screeched, “Not here, obviously. Take it with you. A couple of applications should clear up the chafing.”
“Chafing?”
“With the friction and the binding in the….” And McKay waved his hands in a way that was probably meant to suggest something “In the afflicted area.”
John looked at the tube of lube again and noticed it boasted it was anaesthetic and antiseptic and non-greasy and figured those weren’t the optimal qualities for lube, and that Rodney probably thought ‘friction in the wormhole’ was some kind of SGC/military slang for Jock Itch. So he thanked McKay and beat a hasty retreat back to his own quarters. He vowed that whatever happened he’d deal his side-effects, whatever they might be, alone.
The years passed, and even John, who genuinely never ever saw it coming, had to reluctantly indulge in a little introspection. Which led to a degree of self awareness, and eventually the admission that this very particular side-effect he was experiencing had more to do with Rodney than with the strange effect travelling through the Stargate had on his molecules.
True to form of course, this personal revelation had the worst timing ever. For no sooner had John acknowledged that maybe, just possibly, the reason he sucked so mightily at relationships was because he had been attempting them with the wrong gender, then Rodney hooked up with Dr Barbie.
It was ridiculous.
John found himself imagining elaborate scenarios where Keller revealed herself to be a cyborg/replicator/hologram/fake doctor/gold-digging man-eater and John had to save Rodney from her nasty, sticky, grabby little pink hands.
But it was kind of okay, because of course really it would never happen.
Even when John thought his heart was going to break. When he was the only one Rodney knew. The only one Rodney trusted. That trust, those precious moments when Rodney turned to him, was so very heart-felt and so utterly innocent that the furthest thing from John’s mind was the idea that Rodney McKay was it for him.
John was so resigned to never having what his body continued to remind him at odd, inconvenient times, that it wanted that even when the changes to the Uniform Code were announced it didn’t really seem like it affected him. Even when Rodney and Keller split up, with an incredibly vicious mutual hurling-of-abuse in the commissary that resulted in Keller packing up her bags and storming off Atlantis the same day, and still John thought of it in terms of cheering Rodney up, rather than him having another chance.
And maybe life would have carried on that way for John, back in the Pegasus Galaxy again. Being an uncle to Torren. Being best man for Ronon when he married his Amelia. Being pals with McKay until the next nubile blonde came along and caught his friend’s eye.
Then things went to hell quicker than you could say snap! Only this time it was Earth, and the SGC and the Lucien Alliance. Suddenly Woolsey was back and forth for meetings with McKay and Carter, and everyone was talking about Destiny, but no one was actually telling John what was going on.
When it finally happened, McKay went through the gate at six am, Atlantis time and John had no idea he was even gone until about noon when he mentioned finding McKay and heading to the Commissary for lunch and Chuck said that McKay had left Atlantis that morning, for some special mission.
It was a week before McKay returned.
John was there, by chance, when the gate activated. He watched as the chevrons lit up and the event horizon whooshed and McKay stepped through.
Rodney looked up and their eyes met and John was aching so hard he almost stopped breathing for a second. The unexpected side effects of faster-than-light travel even when John wasn’t the one doing the travelling. But this time something was different.
McKay marched up the stairs and cornered John, crowding him until his back hit the wall up near the transporter, it was an alcove, hidden from view. Rodney glared at John, then took a swig of the coffee he was still holding. John had noticed the cup when Rodney first stepped through.
Rodney grimaced, glaring at the cup like the coffee had betrayed him. “Cold” was all he muttered and dropped the paper cup on to a near by table. He grabbed John’s face, his hands cupping his cheeks surprisingly gently, pulling him forward until their lips met.
Nothing was like this. John had kissed people before. Even people he really really liked. But it had never been like kissing Rodney. It had never felt like this one touch of lips on his had felt. Like he was owned, like it was meant to be this way.
John heard the sound that came out of his mouth. A hungry, desperate, yearning sound that made him flush with shame even as his mouth and lips were making more of the same greedy desperate noises, Taking what they could from Rodney’s mouth.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
McKay was muttering as he bit at John’s lips, pushy and a little vicious as he took what he wanted.
“I didn’t know.” John gasped, between kisses, “And you were with Katie, then with Keller!”
“Mmmhh.” Rodney grumbled while he was groping at John’s clothes, then he pulled away and slapped his hand on the transporter button and the door slid open immediately. John and Rodney stumbled inside and then out again in the corridor by Rodney’s quarters.
"What did you tell that moron Telford about me?" Rodney gasped between hard kisses along John's neck.
"Nothing!" John moaned, and then pushed Rodney back so he could stare in his eyes and ask, "Why? What were you doing with Telford?"
Rodney smirked, and said roughly, "Oh you know, a little diplomacy mission, a little military incursion, and generally saving the SGC and the planet's ass, with Woolsey's help."
John might have asked for more details but as Rodney's hand was squirming its way down the back of John's pants and Rodney's body was pushing against John creating just the right amount of pressure John was happy to shelve the rest of his quiestions til later. And anyway at last they were in Rodney’s room.
Then it was fire and famine, hunger and a desperate need to be naked and to be on one another. Holding one another. Everything was hot and fast and yesand more and not enough.
John lay in the aftermath of this passion. He was half in and half out of his clothes. He was panting from the way he had just come. And Rodney was over him, panting like he’d run a mile, his mouth covering John's. His breath hot and damp on John’s skin.
John let himself feel it, feel the easy way thier bodies lay together in the afterglow. It was nothing like the usual awkwardnes John felt with someone new. There was no elbow or knee in the wrong place. There was no relaisation that wow, John really was kind of hairy and boney. John waited to see what McKay would say, but he wasn't worried, for the first time ever, he knew it was going to be okay.
Rodney trailed a finger up and down across the sweet spot on John's back, he was smiling and his voice lazy and warm and he said "They have a saying in Germany, coffee and love are best when they’re hot.”
The end
