Notice Anything?

Title: Soul to Squeeze
Author: perspi
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~1450
Characters: John/Rodney, with appearances by Ronon, Teyla, and Radek
Summary: "I'm fine," Rodney snapped, and it would have been believable if Rodney weren't such a lousy liar.
Relates to Episodes: Nope, a complete AU.
Disclaimer: Me, I own nothing.
Notes: Thanks as always to my lovely First Readers. Originally posted on 6-23-08 at sga_flashfic for the First Aid Challenge and to the latest round of mcsmooches.

Comments and concrit always welcome.


Soul to Squeeze


John had just picked up his book when Radek knocked on the bottom of his door. "John?"

"Yeah?" he called back, unwilling just yet to get up. He'd worked out the knots from traveling in a good training session today; his arms and legs felt like noodles and he was getting too old for this.

Radek pulled open the door and peered over the threshold. "I am sorry to bother, John, but is Rodney."

"What happened?" John asked, setting down his book and sitting up.

"No one knows, but he will not come out. He has not come to the mess tent all day."

"He's got a stash in his trailer," John said and rubbed at the back of his neck. "And we don't have a show until tomorrow. I'm sure he'll be fine."

Radek shook his head, his hair sticking up every which way and a sad, helpless expression on his face. "He will not even open the door for Teyla and Emma."

This was new and completely unheard of; Rodney had never refused Teyla and Emma anything. He quickly stuffed his feet into his boots and stepped out of the trailer; Radek shuffled off to the side to give him room. As they walked, Radek easily kept pace with John's shortened stride; it had been a long time since John had had to think about how to walk next to him.

When they arrived at Rodney's trailer, they found Ronon, Teyla and Emma in front of his door. Teyla and Emma were talking up at the slightly open window.

"Rodney, please," Emma began. "At least let us bring you some dinner," Teyla finished, her voice pitched at its most soothing. No sound could be heard from the other side of the door.

Ronon nodded down at John when they arrived, absentmindedly taking Radek's upstretched hand and hefting him to his shoulders. "I could break the door," he offered, flexing one massive fist.

"I do not think that will result in his trust," Teyla chided gently, and Radek tugged on one of Ronon's dreads in agreement.

Emma patted John on the arm as they stepped around him. "We will fetch something for him from the mess," she said as they left.

John watched them go, walking the way they always did, their arms winding together to rest on the other's hip in a loose embrace, Teyla just slightly in the lead. "I always wondered what happens if they want to go in different directions," he mused aloud.

Radek snorted laughter, and Ronon rumbled, "Whatever you do, don't ask them." John couldn't help but grin after them as Ronon strolled away.

Then there was nothing left but to knock on Rodney's door. "Hey Rodney," he called. "What's this I hear about you not wanting to dine with two beautiful women?"

It was silent for a long moment, then Rodney answered, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. "Go away."

John leaned against the side of the trailer, the silver bullet gleaming dully in the setting sun. "You know me better than that," John called back, but not as loudly this time. He waited another long, silent moment before he heard a rustle and the snick of the door unlocking. He gave Rodney a beat before he opened the door.

Rodney was settled back into the sleeping alcove by the time John stepped inside and sat down on the bench. The dim light made him seem soft around the edges, his face turned down and away. "Apparently it's too much to ask to be left alone," he said caustically, sharp as always.

John rested his elbows on his knees. "Yeah, those damned friends, always worrying about you."

"I'm fine," Rodney snapped, and it would have been believable if Rodney weren't such a lousy liar, if John hadn't spotted the white envelope sticking out from under Rodney's bed.

His reflexes were still good, maybe not quite as fast as when he'd worked with that knife-thrower, but fast enough. John grabbed the envelope before Rodney could hide it. "What's this?"

"Don't!" Rodney yelled and snatched it back, but John had already seen the letterhead.

"They wrote back? I told you it was good, Rodney, I knew they'd want to p--"

"They do." Rodney's harsh voice cut John down to the quick, and the papers slithered to the floor. "They liked it, they love it, it's genius and will of course revolutionize modern science. They'd love to publish it, if only I had a university affiliation."

John swallowed hard; he had no answer, no way to fix that.

"What university would possibly want me?" Rodney asked sharply, sitting forward and holding out his hands so John could clearly see the palms. The puzzle pieces that John knew nearly as well as his own hands, lines that John's eyes regularly traced up under Rodney's shirtsleeves to reemerge at his collar. The black spaces of missing pieces, one a hollow on his left cheek inked so dark John sometimes thought he should see teeth.

"You, you can hide, you can pass," Rodney snarled. "All you are is bendy."

John shifted, scuffing at the discarded papers with the toe of his boot. Finally he said, "Sometimes..."

Rodney waited, watching John fidget and squirm, until he scoffed and flopped backward on the bed. "Sometimes you astound me with your verbosity. Sometimes you enthrall me with your eloquence. Sometimes you need to just spit it out, Sheppard."

"Sometimes I wish your parents were still alive," John snapped, in spite of his decision to leave it be. He'd never been good at following orders, even when they were from himself. "I'd like a crack at them."

"Like it matters now," Rodney sighed at the ceiling. "I ever tell you about the missing pieces?"

John startled on the bench, wrapping his hands over his knees and holding on tight. "No," he said, trying hard for the right note of nonchalance.

"My parents had pieces on themselves to match the holes on me," Rodney said and waved one hand, the dark missing piece inside his forearm standing out like a bruise. "They thought...they believed it would...God, it's moronic. They believed it would tie me to them, that I wouldn't leave if I had to leave pieces of me behind."

"I kinda like the missing pieces," John found himself saying before his mental filter could kick in, the urge to break the thick confessional air in the trailer too strong to resist. Everybody knew the story, in a general way, of how Rodney's parents had tattooed him but he'd never told anyone how they'd done it, or why. John didn't want to be the one who knew, didn't want Rodney to confirm the imagined horror of being held down and needled everywhere.

"Besides, you probably didn't need those thirty-four, anyway," John continued and barely suppressed the urge to kick himself in the head.

Rodney sat up, eyeing John with a speculative squint. "I have thirty-nine missing pieces," he said softly, then his eyebrows shot upward and he pointed at John. "You've been watching me!"

"You're kinda hard to miss," John said and pointed back. "And you watch me!"

"You're directly across from me! Doing your...thing, and at least you get to do stuff instead of yelling warnings at the idiot masses all day. My life would be so much easier if Hammond would just let me write, but no, people have to see. I should get Ronon to teach me how to swallow swords."

"You should get your paper published," John grumbled, bumping his knee against Rodney's. "Einstein didn't have university affiliation."

"Einstein wasn't the lead act in a ten-in-one," Rodney said sourly.

"It's their loss," John said, and Rodney's disbelieving snort made something in John's chest tighten up. So he did what he'd been wanting to do since he'd first met the man; he cupped his hands around Rodney's face and kissed him.

At first Rodney didn't move, shocked into stillness, but just as John decided he was going to get punched and started to pull away, Rodney's hands came up to hold him still. Rodney started kissing back, all enthusiastic warmth, and John couldn't help the way his body swayed toward Rodney's, but he tried to reinforce his message with everything he had--that Rodney was wanted, right here, right where he was.

When the kiss ended, they stayed together, hands over cheekbones, foreheads resting together. "We are idiots," Rodney whispered, and John felt the smile against his lips.

"I want to count your missing pieces myself," John whispered back.

Rodney did pull away then, far enough to look at John. "Um. Are you--"

"Oh, yes."

"And then--"

"I'm really flexible," John said with a smirk.

"Does that line actually work on people?" Rodney scoffed. "Freak," he added, his voice warm with affection, and John had to kiss him again.






 
The name comes from and the fic is inspired in part by the video for the Red Hot Chili Peppers' song, but I didn't want to link it above and spoil the surprise. *g*