Plausible deniability - SGU Fic
Author: Elaiel
Rating: PG
Word count: 878 words
Warnings: None
Characters: Young, Rush, Greer, James.
Author's notes: Sequel to It's Cold, written for the first prompt from my H/C bingo card! :D I did a sequel 'cause I'd already effectively written this prompt before and had always wondered whether I would follow it up.

Young woke with a start that made all his muscles twitch. There was an answering sleepy groan from behind him that automatically caused him to tense. It came again, an unexpected and unfamiliar tenor note.

There was an arm round him, close around his waist and pressed firmly against his stomach and he could feel someone's breath warming the back of his neck. The cocoon of blankets around them was snug and warm and pulled up around his chin.

And with that thought, memory came back in a flurry of thoughts, the cave, the discomfort of his aching leg and back, cold floor, Rush bitching at him in the middle of the night about his tossing and turning and finally wrapping them both in the blankets and deliberately turning his back on Young.

That obviously hadn't lasted, and evidently Young himself didn't kick or wriggle in his sleep enough to disturb the other man. Lucky really as this would be really awkward if Rush was awake. Young forced his muscles to relax, one by one from his wool sock clad feet upward.

Truthfully he hadn't been this warm in some time. Destiny wasn't usually cold, but the ship was a wreck frankly and his quarters had a distressing tendency of randomly losing heat. He'd lost count of the times the chill had woken him in the night. He'd even acquired extra bedding to mitigate the effects. He supposed he really ought to just change his quarters like everyone else who'd had issues with where they'd originally settled, but he liked the space he had, and particularly his desk. He didn't want to change, he just wanted it to be warmer.

The cave was still dark and cold and he could hear rain outside as well as the sound of the surf. He only realised what had woken him when Vanessa James started to talk to Greer. Must be a watch changeover.

"Now that's something I never thought I'd see." She said in a quiet voice, laden with amusement.

Young heard Greer chuckle.

"The Colonel's got some old injuries he don't let on about. Was having some difficulties," Greer stressed the word, "with the cold. You shoulda heard Rush bitching at him for keeping him awake."

Damn, he thought they'd been quiet.

"Trust me," continued Greer, "it's self interest on both sides."

They both laughed quietly.

"Still," James added, "you have to admit they look quite cute like that."

Cute? Thought Young. There's something deeply wrong about that statement, and there would be repercussions if this was ever brought up later. There was a short silence before Greer spoke.

"Personally I'd have called it accidental nightmare fuel, Lieutenant."

It was James' turn to chuckle.

"Maybe it's a girl thing?"

"You're a girl Lieutenant?"

Greer's response made them both laugh again.

"Well, you've got your turn to chance it with the nightmares."

"Wake them first of all." Greer told her.

"Of course. Accidentally." She replied.

"Night James."

"Night."

He heard Greer make his quiet way to the back of the cave and settle. James settled into her guard post at the front of the cave. Young began to relax again. Rush lay still behind him, breathing softly. Young could feel the slight press of the man's chest against his back, the slight shift of his arm as he breathed, slow and steady.

It had been a long time since Young had shared a bed or blankets with anyone. Emily, TJ on Icarus, various members of his old team on various planets due to weather, lack of space or facilities. All some significant time ago.

He and TJ had come close, had spent the last year or more orbiting each other, neither of them quite brave enough to make that step over the invisible wall of pain and misunderstanding they had managed to build between them. Young resolved to talk to her when he got back to the ship. Just a chat, open the channels of communication, whatever happened would happen, but at least they'd be talking on a personal rather than professional basis again.

Rush snuffled briefly into his neck and murmured, deep in a dream. The man's arm tightened briefly round Young and his legs shifted. Young found himself settling back more securely against the other man's body. His muscles tensed involuntarily, but as the hand on his stomach flexed gently, and a knee came up to rest against his ass and legs he found himself relaxing back into the embrace. Rush made a low sound, almost, but not quite, a snore and buried his face in the back of Young's shoulder.

It had been an even longer time since anyone had just held him, not violently, not sexually, not needing anything, with no ulterior motive. The irony that after all their disagreements, violence, mutual hatred, trying to kill each other, it was Rush inadvertently providing this comfort was not lost on him. He wondered how Rush would react when he woke. Almost certainly not well. Still it was Rush's fault not his. He wasn't the one on the outside.

Fuck Rush. It was warm, he was comfortable and he had plausible deniability. Young gave up on thinking, relaxed and left himself drift, he'd worry about tomorrow, tomorrow.