He knocked first, though in real time he probably thought McKay's door open before he'd even finished speaking.
"Can I come in?"
"Sure."
Sheppard walked into his friend's room and surveyed the messy organization that was McKay's private quarters on Atlantis. The physicist insisted that everything was in its place. The Air Force man found that hard to believe.
"Carson let you out," John said as he approached the bed.
"Yes," Rodney responded glumly, followed by a heavy sigh.
Dr. Rodney McKay looked more than a little uncomfortable. Between the still sore and recently overworked left butt cheek – all that running back and forth, from computer to computer, crawling and kneeling all over the Wraith energy conduit on M1B-129, in addition to carrying all that equipment – and the newly stitched, still slightly swollen and sore gunshot wound, the physicist was having a helluva time getting into a comfortable position. In fact, it seemed like maybe he'd given up as he sat on the edge of the bed, tilting on his uninjured buttock, the right one, while pressing lightly on his newest injury on his left side.
"Sorry about…sorry," John said.
"Oh, good grief. Please, please, PLEASE stop. You weren't, as they say, in your right mind at the time. You have nothing to apologize for."
"Wow."
"What?"
"I thought for a while there I was only going to get one-word responses from you."
"Ha-ha."
"See, I think that counts as one word," Sheppard said smartly.
"So?" Rodney answered, knowing exactly what he was doing.
"Stop it, will ya. It's…weird."
"Tough," McKay retorted.
John sat down next to Rodney. "Look, I know you're supposed to take it real easy the next few days, and based on the way you're sitting," he said, taking an extra long look at the bent over, bent to the side, thoroughly uncomfortable and hurting man before him, "you're gonna exert more effort doing that than Beckett planned." John could only imagine how much more complicated Rodney's seating arrangement would have been if he'd taken that arrow on the right side. "I have absolutely nothing to do for the next few hours." Sheppard stopped, figuring that the genius could figure out the rest.
"And?" Rodney asked in a decidedly exasperated fashion as he was forced to wait for the point of all of this. He was sure John had a point, but he'd be damned if he could tell what it was. He wasn't sure if that was because of the pain pills or just Sheppard being Sheppard.
"Can you stop that?" John asked irritably.
"What?"
"Look, if you're gonna be like that, then I'll just leave," the colonel said as he stood and started for the door.
"No, wait," Rodney pleaded, grabbing John's hand. Forward momentum was a bitch, though, and it pulled Rodney from his uncomfortable position and into a really, really painful one.
"Ow, ow. Ow, ow, ow. That hurts." He moved back to the other position, but now he hurt too much for anything to help.
Well, maybe 'anything' was leaning a little toward hyperbole.
"Hey, sorry," John said as he knelt in front of the injured man. The man he'd hurt. Again.
"It's okay. What were you gonna say?" McKay's breathing, which had increased with his added pain now seemed to be calming once again.
"I was gonna say," John said, as he pulled Rodney's face a little closer and gave those familiar lips a sweet kiss, "that we could cuddle for a while. I'll prop you up in all the right places."
Rodney and John were face to face, close after sharing their kiss, when they both burst out laughing.
"Don't tell Carson your plans to 'prop me up'," Rodney said, taking his hand from his side momentarily to finger quote for emphasis. "He specifically looked at you when he said I should take it 'real easy'." More finger quoting.
"I hate that," John said as he smacked the scientist's hands. Rodney placed the left one back where it seemed to be doing more good, on his mildly throbbing wound.
"Sorry," McKay said. He made the 'quote' sign with his right hand a few times as John's face turned stony. Figuratively. "Sorry," Rodney said again, finally stopping the annoying action. It was pretty obvious that John hadn't forgiven himself for shooting both McKay and Ronon Dex, and dragging a badly wounded Teyla all over the forest during his hallucinations. Kidding him, both with the seemingly non-stop 'You shot me' stuff, and now this, wasn't going to help Sheppard get over much of anything.
And the genius risked losing out on the cuddling. Not too smart.
"Carson doesn't have to worry," John said. "I'm not going to ravish you."
"No," Rodney agreed dejectedly. "That won't happen for a while."
"Let's cuddle. We never get to do that."
"We should," Rodney said.
"Stand-alone cuddling. What a novel idea," John said with a smile. "I'm taking my clothes off."
"All of them?" Rodney asked hopefully, his face brightening well beyond the pain.
"Not a chance. It's a t-shirt and boxer kind of cuddle."
"You're mean," Rodney whined playfully.
"And you have no self-control, Rodney McKay."
When it came to a naked John Sheppard, Rodney had to grudgingly cede that point to John. The cuddling and the G-rated, and maybe if he was lucky R-rated 'propping up' would most definitely make up for 'all' those clothes.
The End.