I meant to present fic to mark the occasion (I even meant it to be due South), but I haven't even managed to get all the drabble requests from the weekend done yet (I am working on them, honest!).
However, this morning we watched Hotel Rwanda in class and as well as breaking my heart into teeny-tiny pieces it also got my plot bunnies revving. And I'm now wanting to write an SGA AU with John as a UN Aid worker in the tiny African country of Athos, while Rodney ends up in Athos when someone (Zelenka) tells him to stop whining about his failed experiment (that blew up 5/6 of a lab) and to see real suffering or... something. Some one stop me?
Okay fine, I'm weak:
Athos is a peace like none Rodney has ever known. The pace of life is slower, life too precious to be wasted in frenetic energy.
John walks him back to his hotel; the sun is low on the horizon and the town is a wash of monochrome browns and beiges and yellows. The markets have closed and the streets are quiet, but it is a hazy silence, disturbed by the buzz and chirp of crickets and of something Rodney can’t identify.
Life is hard here, but living is easy and Rodney is too relaxed to be surprised when John’s warm, dry palm presses against his slightly damp one and they finish the journey with their fingers entwined.
Rodney is enjoying the walk so much, the peace, the company, bumping shoulders with John on every other step, the brush of John’s thumb over his knuckles, that he’s disappointed when it comes to an end.
John stops just short of the wide hotel doorway with its pealing white paint and grins. “Well, Rodney, I had fun. Thanks for the beer.”
Rodney will later blame – or praise – the mellow feeling suffusing his bones for what happens next. He puts his hand – the one not still clasped lightly with John’s – on John’s narrow hip and draws him forward until their thighs brush.
John is watching him through soft, amused eyes and licks his slightly parted lips. Waiting. He’s waiting. And with barely a single nervous flutter, Rodney closes the remaining gap and kisses him softly.
He meant it to be a quick kiss, just a sign that he’s interested and a chance to taste John’s lips, but John make a pleased sounding sigh and slides his free hand around to cup the nape of Rodney’s neck. They kiss slowly; John tastes like the beer they’ve drunk, and the chocolate Rodney brought, and the edge of his lips taste of very fine sand.
It dawns on Rodney that they’re two guys, making out, outside the only hotel on the main street of the main village in Athos. But John knows these people and presumably he’d mentioned if he thought they were going to get their heads kicked in.
Eventually, Rodney steps back, “Do you want to come up?” he asks, stroking the bare skin above John’s hip, his voice scratchy as if he’s been swallowing the sand now blowing lightly around their ankles.
John runs a knuckle down Rodney’s cheek and along his bottom lip, “Want me to?” he asks and honestly it’s on the tip of Rodney’s tongue to say he wouldn’t have asked otherwise, but John’s green-brown eyes are smoky, heavy-lidded and Rodney can only swallow and nod.
Rodney has just enough time between the entrance lobby and his room to start feeling nervous and to remember how very long it’s been since he did this. But then they’re inside Rodney’s room and John is drawing them back together and kissing him eagerly.
Even in the short time he’s known him, Rodney has built up a whole list on expectations about what John would be like in bed. He expected him to be gentle and charming and hot as hell. He hadn’t expected bubbling laughter when Rodney kisses across his stomach, or the downcast eyes and blushing cheeks when Rodney forgets himself and tells him how beautiful he really is. And when John comes underneath him, naked and writhing and gasping in delight, Rodney isn’t expecting John to stare at him with wide eyes and parted lips as if he’s the one who’s amazing.