Word from the Author: So, this was quite randomly inspired by the beloved okama-kama-no-tsukai, my present muse.

Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis belongs to me about as much as the ZedPM belongs to the Brotherhood. Which is so totally not at all.

Coffee

Rodney had thought John had been joking when he'd asked which Rodney loved more, him or coffee. And working with this as his premise, Rodney had joked back, "Coffee, of course."

What he hadn't expected was the wounded look John had shot him, before he ran away. Literally.

That's how Rodney came to be sitting in his now empty lab, wondering how the hell he was going to fix this. Especially since, in all the time they'd been together, neither of them had professed anything nearing love, unless constrained by other pronouns, carefully worded to only express enough that those words wouldn't be able to turn around and hurt them. Or at least, that's how it was for Rodney.

And so, what he had confessed was always, "I love this," or, "Oh god, I love it when you do that."

But never, "I love you."

If anything, it was because Rodney was afraid that if he said those magic words then midnight would finally come and all the things that had drawn John to him would disappear, leaving Rodney stumbling around in the dark, uncertain as to whether it were real, or whether it had all just been some wonderful, fantastical dream.

Apparently, he hadn't even needed the magical words to wreak disaster on the fragile link that they'd shared. One stupid comment was all it had taken to break them. And of course, it had to have been Rodney's fault.

Unless, he somehow did something to make things right. Determined, Rodney stood and headed to John's quarters, where he was sure he would find him sulking.

The doors opened automatically to Rodney's presence, and true to form, John appeared to be doing exactly that. Still determined, to at least tell John how he felt, even if this was it. The End. Rodney walked into the room, peripherally aware of the doors closing and locking automatically behind him.

John sat on his bed, turned away from the door, tense and unmoving. Tiredly, he asked, "What do you want, Rodney?"

Stumped, Rodney considered this before deliberately pushing all of John's buttons with one easy phrase. "I want coffee."

It definitely had the desired effect, as John jerked to look at him, his eyes narrowed to hurt, angry slits. "You want what?" He hissed.

Rodney swallowed, cleared his throat and plowed on, heedless, "Coffee, John. I want coffee."

Rodney took a step forward letting everything he wasn't saying bleed through his eyes, his expression. Rodney gratefully noted that this seemed to give John pause, as he silently sat and watched Rodney watching him.

"Coffee," Rodney repeated, his heart in his throat as he explained, "because, it'll never leave me for someone else, someone better."

John reared back in surprise, his eyes widening at Rodney's words.

Heartened by this reaction, Rodney continued, "Coffee, because I can't hurt it, no matter what I do." Rodney paused meaningfully, "Or say."

He took another step, forcing John to tilt his head back to keep watching him, eyes incredibly wide. "Coffee," Rodney whispered now, "because I'll never have to be scared that it doesn't love me or that even if it did, one day it might stop."

Rodney stopped right in front of John to say, "Coffee, because now, you're the one who makes it for me. And I love you."

"Rodney," John whimpered, before reaching out and pulling Rodney towards him. "Rodney."

"I know," Rodney murmured into John's crazy hair, completely and utterly crazy in love with it, with him.

"I love you," John gasped, before yanking Rodney into a sloppy, heartfelt kiss, with more passion than finesse.

Rodney kissed him back, licking deep into John's mouth, shuddering as he thought to himself that he would never get enough, of this, of John.

Coffee, Rodney hummed pleased, because John's kisses always tasted like coffee.

Finis.

Just Another Word from the Author: Hope you enjoyed.