It was the unpleasant wet spot that woke him, combined with the weight pressing down on his chest and something pleasantly pressing against his groin. He blinked his eyes and blearily saw a mop of hair. That was all he could see, but he didn't need to see to know what was happening. Rodney McKay was snoring contentedly still, mouth open and drooling like a leaky faucet. John knew that his friend's sore throat virtually necessitated less swallowing, an unconscious reaction to avoid pain, though Sheppard's chest was now acting as a bucket to catch the overflow. Lovely, John thought sardonically, scowling at the feel.
On the other hand, Rodney had wheedled his leg in between John's, the dead weight of sleep pressing McKay's thigh firmly against John's penis. The feel of Rodney against him, as well as the thought of Rodney against him was making him hard. He really didn't want Rodney waking up to that. At least not until John figured out how he felt about that.
Rodney slurped, visibly in the throes of waking. Shit. Rodney's arm was hanging down, across John's chest and then down his side and then over the side of the small bed. McKay moved, and tried to push himself up, but he was out of position and out of room, and his hand pressed down on, well, nothing. The small amount that he had raised without the aid of the bed was lost, and he sagged heavily back down, and hard, onto John Sheppard. The soft, fullness of the thigh was replaced with the painful hardness of a knee to the groin.
Well, that took care of that problem.
John howled, which shot McKay up out of the bed in a flash.
"What?" Rodney mouthed in confusion, grabbing at his throat with a frown. John heard nothing, but knew what the question was. John was grimacing and rubbing his groin, a little too preoccupied to answer just yet. The look on Rodney's face changed from confused to concerned in an instant, and he came closer to the bed, sitting on the edge.
"Did I do that?" Rodney asked regretfully. A pained "Ah!" followed, with a grumbled, "Shit" right behind.
"Rodney," John said, grabbing hold of McKay's arm, "Stop talking. Yes, you did do this, but I'll survive. It's not that bad. I've lived through worse."
"Looks pretty bad," Rodney tried, and then grimaced, clearly in pain.
"Jesus, McKay, shut up! Watching you try to talk hurts more than you kicking me in the nuts." John finally stood, still massaging himself with one hand, but pointing with his other hand at his friend in warning for Rodney to stay quiet.
Rodney looked at John irritably. He was never one to take orders well, especially from someone in the military. He glared at John, his lips held tightly closed in an effort to follow the rude instruction. Rodney's face was pretty expressive; John could see the moment the physicist recognized that the advice, though brusquely given, was for his own good.
John headed to the bathroom. "I'm going to use the head. Sit there," he said, looking to see if Rodney would challenge him. Rodney gave him what he could only call the 'evil eye'. John added, "I'm not kidding. Stay." Rodney put his hands in from of him, mimicking a dog's begging paws, and then stuck his tongue out and panted, but he quickly whimpered and rubbed his throat, shaking his head at his own stupidity. John rolled his eyes and went to take care of business.
John came out and sat next to the scientist. He knocked his shoulder up against Rodney's and said, "You haven't coughed today." Rodney nodded in agreement. "That's a good sign, right?" Sheppard added.
Rodney stood and headed to his desk. He grabbed his PDA and started writing. He handed it to John, who read, "I'm not talking today."
John burst out laughing. "Right," he snorted loudly.
Rodney looked at John indignantly. He grabbed the PDA back, wrote something else, and then shoved it against John's chest.
"Watch it," John said, "I'm soaked through, you know," pointing to the substantial drool spot. "This thing might short out." He read Rodney's comment. 'Fuck you'. John raised his eyebrow. "You know, you're not making the idea very appealing. You drool all over me, you kick me in the groin, and then you're mean to me to boot."
Rodney closed his eyes and shook his head, dropping his head to his chest. A deep breath later, and Rodney took the PDA back gently and wrote John another note. He handed it back equally gently, looked John in the eye, and pointed to himself and then to the bathroom. Then he put his hand up to his mouth and twisted, as though locking it up for the day. John laughed as Rodney headed to the bathroom. He noticed a slight grin grace his friend's face before he left the room.
"I need my laptop," John read, and then grinned at the smiley face sticking its tongue out at him at the end of the sentence.
They each showered and dressed, and after another torturous round of breakfast Sheppard-style, they headed to see Carson.
"Good morning," Carson said as he ushered them quickly into the exam area. "How are you this morning, Rodney."
"Rodney's not talking this morning, Carson," John started. McKay looked at him sideways, pointing at the laptop he now carried. "Yeah, I know that, but this will be a lot faster, don't you think?" Rodney sighed and nodded his assent.
"Rodney's throat really hurts and though it's pretty much going to cause him to develop an ulcer, he has decided that the wisest course of action today is to not talk. That seems to have had the added benefit of less coughing. Also, I predict the calmest day on Atlantis since we all arrived here." John smiled happily at his joke. Rodney…not so much, and when he tried to fake a 'ha-ha', something did catch in his throat and he started coughing.
"Crap," John said, looking guilty.
Carson watched with concern as the coughing slowed. He turned to Sheppard and said, "This might work better if you stopped antagonizing him."
John looked even guiltier. Rodney shook his head, snapped his fingers and pointed at the laptop that John was holding for him. John handed it over and Rodney turned to set it on the exam table. He leaned his hands on either side of the notebook, taking some deep breaths, and then typed furiously. Carson and John both leaned over McKay's shoulder to see what he had to say.
"Not Sheppard's fault. Something went down wrong." They both nodded, seemingly relieved at the cause. Rodney looked at them disgustedly, and then typed, "It still hurts."
"I know it does, Rodney," Dr. Carson Beckett said as John looked on sympathetically. "I'll get you something, but you should try to gargle with warm water throughout the day. My mum always gave me tea with honey…very soothing." Rodney agreed with a nod. He watched as Carson left to retrieve the cough medicine.
Once back at Rodney's room, John and Rodney were seated on McKay's bed having a 'conversation'.
"Well, since we can't have our talk," John said with a grin, "what do you want to do today?"
Rodney typed on his laptop. John looked at the answer.
"Asshole." John read. He looked at Rodney, who this time stuck his tongue out for real rather than just virtually.
"What?" John asked confused.
Rodney typed again. "We can talk," Rodney offered through a smothered yawn, pointing with both hands at the laptop. The cough medicine and the muscle relaxant were conspiring easily to force Rodney's naptime.
"No, you're tired. How about something else?" John asked evasively.
Rodney took the laptop back and typed some more, and then offered the screen to the colonel.
"Sleep?" John saw Rodney's face turn slightly red as he finished reading his friend's answer.
"Yeah, well, you need it. But I don't know if we should…again…until we talk." Rodney looked John in the eye and then grinned slightly. He took back control of his new communication device and typed something quickly.
"Chicken," John read. He squinted his eyes at Rodney, whose own expression, whose entire demeanor held only challenge with his eyebrows raised and lips pursed, arms folded across his chest waiting for a reply.
"Well, Rodney, I guess you can call it that if you want. I like to think that it's that I'm more concerned and need to weigh the options." He handed the computer back to McKay.
Rodney's eyes opened wide, and then he frowned. John knew then that he'd said the wrong thing. Rodney stood and dropped the laptop on the bed and headed to the bathroom, only to be stopped by a firm hand on his arm.
McKay stopped but didn't turn back to face Sheppard. John moved around to stand in front of his friend.
"Rodney, I didn't mean that the way it sounded. I didn't mean that you were an option. Believe me, it would be a whole lot easier for me if you were." Rodney continued to look down, avoiding any eye contact. "And even if I had an off button for how I'm feeling, I don't know that I would want to use it."
John couldn't tell if he was making any headway. He knew that if Rodney could talk, they could just have this out; that whatever offense Rodney had taken from what John had said would already have been made loud and clear. He never realized that what was Rodney's disadvantage in the scientist's inability to speak would end up impacting his own ability to communicate what he needed.
John put his hand up hesitantly to Rodney's chin. He pushed his friend's chin up so that he was sure that McKay could see him as he explained.
"I have what I always wanted…what I had always dreamed of. All I ever wanted was to fly. And here I am. Flying. And not just flying, but flying space ships, Rodney. In another galaxy. It's all I ever could have hoped for."
Rodney nodded, and John could see that McKay was nodding his understanding - of the wrong thing.
"No, Rodney. You don't understand. I never dreamed of you. You were never part of my expectations. You changed the formula on me, McKay. Everything fit before you. Everything added up just right. You're an option I never figured on." John paused and moved his hand affectionately from Rodney's chin to his cheek, and then down his neck to rest his hand on his friend's shoulder. "You're messing with my math," John added quietly, smiling a crooked grin at his confession.
Rodney blinked tiredly and a slight grin came to his face. He shrugged his shoulder up and cocked his head down slightly, capturing John's hand momentarily between the two. Rodney blinked some more, only his eyes were opening more slowly each time. He yawned and kept his eyes open, looking at John questioningly.
"What's next?" John interpreted. Rodney's grin grew wider around another yawn.
"Well, if you remember any of this tomorrow," he said as he pulled in closer to the tired man, "I'll eat my hat."
Rodney looked at John with irritation and started to open his mouth to speak.
"I swear to god, Rodney," John said as he enveloped McKay in a warm hug, effectively silencing his friend before he'd even got started, "if you try to speak I will hit you." Rodney returned the hug with a slight huff, but otherwise held his tongue. The embrace was warm and comfortable, and the two men lingered like that until John felt Rodney grow a little too heavy in his arms.
"Hey," John said, his lips up against Rodney's ear, "you should get some more sleep." Rodney's head moved against John's face, and McKay started to pull away. John put his hand against the back of Rodney's neck, holding him close a moment longer. He kissed Rodney's temple and said in a whisper, "Some time." His voice cracked, just barely. Then he added, "Just a little time."
Rodney looked into John's eyes. Though tired, McKay was clear in his determination, John could see that. Rodney was fearless of where all of this might take them. Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard wished that he were as brave. But he had learned to trust Dr. Rodney McKay in this time they had spent together in the Pegasus galaxy. Maybe he would trust Rodney to take the lead in this. John's own bravery had not had to extend to the personal. Not really, while Rodney's always, always did. It was McKay's way.
John smiled as he realized that he had been able to interpret all of that in the face of the man who was becoming more to him than he had ever dreamed.
The End.