Silence Is Golden 2

Crime Pays

by AbylityMaren

URL: http://www.area52hkh.net/asa/amaren/silence02.php
Summary: The morning after from Sheppard's perspective

Let me tell you a few things about myself.

I like Ferris wheels.
I like going 200 miles an hour.
I like popcorn...
And beer. ..
I like beer.
And.........
(Just bear with me. I'm trying to work up to something here.)
And I like college football.
And I like...
Ya see...
Well, let me put it this way: Football's fun no matter which team
your on.
Ya' get me?
Defense, offense, throwing or receiving...It doesn't matter to me.
It's still a hell of a lot of fun.

Now maybe your thinking I shouldn't be so...I shouldn't beat around the bush. But, see, I'm in the military. If I happen to mention that my commanding officer has a nice ass, well...they'd think twice before letting me take up a bird. And I really like going 200 miles an hour. Ferris wheels and beer just don't stack up.

Besides, sex with guys isn't better than sex with women, just different. Sticking to the expected gender isn't really that big of a problem. Like I said, no matter which team you're on it's still a hell of a lot of fun. So I keep my mouth shut.

Which is why I never mentioned it to anyone when I realized that Rodney McKay doesn't look half bad when he isn't looking down his nose at you.

That was about 3 months ago, I think.

So for 2, maybe 2 months, I kept it to myself. But it was kind of building. For the first couple of weeks it was nothing more than occasionally appreciating the view. Then my imagination kicks in and I start wondering if he looks good when he's breathin' heavy. You get what I'm sayin', right? Arguments aren't arguments anymore, they're flirting. I'm not making fun of him, its become a sort of foreplay.

And what really drove me nuts is that I couldn't tell if he was thinking the same things. I'm staying up nights wondering if he thinks that I'm thinking that I think that he's thinking...and around and around and around. I considered trying to ask him. But, I don't know, the timing just never felt right.

Then, 3 weeks ago, I got my answer.

We were out on a mission. Ended up staying the night in some barn. Teyla and Ford were below. I guess they couldn't sleep. McKay and I had gone into the loft a few hours earlier to catch some Z's. I didn't start out curled up against him. I guess I got cold. So I must of wandered over to the warmest thing in my sleep. McKay puts out a lot of heat.

Anyway, I wake up to find myself laying right up against him with my leg thrown over him. I think it was his breathing that pulled me out of my sleep. He's lying there staring up at the ceiling, silently mumbling something to himself and his breath was kind of unsteady, like he's holding it and letting go.

"Rodney?" it was more breath than sound.

He jumped a little and turned his head.

"You ok?"

He just blinked. I figured that meant yes. I started to shift my weight. My thigh made better contact with his groin and I knew his mind wasn't in the lab. And something about the look on his face confirmed all my late night suspicions.

Sex in a hayloft. I know its pretty damn cliché. Not as cliché as my first guy/guy experience (Let's hear it for a college education), but it's right up there.

It was also one of the hottest experiences in my life.

He seemed pretty impressed too.

I think that's what did it for me. Rodney thinks a lot. It's part of what makes me enjoy being around him, no matter how it looks from the outside. There's a certain satisfaction in being the counterpoint to someone like that. You're never bored. Sometimes he goes overboard and gets downright bitchy, but for the most part it helps to keep things interesting.

That night was a different Rodney. No words, no posturing, just pure pleasure driven reflex. Watching his face while I made my way over his body stole my breath. I nearly lost it before my turn came. It was really just a couple of mutual hand jobs but I'd never experienced anything that intense, not even at 200 miles an hour.

When it was done we both pulled our clothing back together trying to make sure we continued to be real quiet. We fell asleep, back to back, buried in the pocket of straw we'd created.

Neither of us said anything.

There've been a lot of little moments. Eyes meeting. A pause when we happen to touch each other. But we never talked about it. Once again, I've been reduced to that late night Mobius strip of thoughts.

Which brings us to this moment in the hallway. I'm leaning against a wall trying to look all nonchalant and cool. He's standing about three feet away trying not to look at me. Neither of us is doing a very good job of it.

"I should be in the lab," his arms cross over his chest and his shoulders hunch a little, "I've got some data to review."

"Yeah, I know. Look, I'm not trying to corner you or anything." My shoe scuffs at the floor. "God, I hate the morning after. Even when it's three weeks late."

He just stands there studying the floor, arms crossed, nervously switching from foot to foot. Two guys standing in a hallway twitching. Great.

"Okaaayyyy...," deep breath, "So...was it good for you?"

Only his eyes move up to meet mine and then they quickly turn to a wider study of the architecture, "Is that supposed to be a rhetorical question?"

That's a little more like it. I start to come back with our normal back and forth sniping when it hits me. I know that body language. I've lived this moment. A whispered "aw crap" escapes from me before I can stop it. It slams into the sudden look of panic on his face. "That was your first time?"

He's blushing. He's actually blushing!

"Holy hells." I nearly choke on the realization, "I stole your virtue"

"I've had sex before!" That damn nose of his makes its way to higher altitudes. But it doesn't stay there very long, "...just not with..."

"And you just decided out of the blue to have it with me!"

"Yes...I mean no...I mean its not like I'd never thought about it...you know...Kinsey scale and everything." And then he seems to rally, "Who says 'stole your virtue' anyway? What are you, a third rate Harlequin romance?"

I come away from the security of my wall. I can see one of Rodney's rants looming on the horizon, "You should have told me."

His nose goes up and his voice drops to a low gravely purr, "I, the dark and mysterious Bandito Carlos, have come to have my way with you wench!" His voice returns to normal, "What the hell is that?"

"Rodney..." He's seen my eyes now, "You should have told me. Said something!"

"And when should I have done that?"

"Well..."

"This chicken is really rubbery. I've never had sex with a man. Please pass the salt." He leans back against the wall now and begins a slow slide down, "Oh my God! We're about to be sucked out into the vacuum of space! Do you find me attractive?"

"Somewhere in between those two points I think." I sigh and position myself to slide down the wall, "Do you think it will rain? You have a nice ass. What time is it?" And I come to rest beside him.

We sat with our backs to the wall, shoulders touching. The silence between us is almost comfortable. It's about 90% comfortable anyway. Rodney has serious problems with any amount of uncomfortable silence.

"I, the dark and mysterious Bandito Carlos, have come to have my way with you wench!" He quietly growls this again as he begins picking at his shoe laces. "I shall plunder your virtuous body! Plunder. You shall know the manly prowess of Carlos... Plunder. Plunderer. Plunderee. Plundering. Plundered..."

"I've never actually"...I make a slow forward pumping motion with my fist and arm, "plundered...or," my hand opens for the stop signal, "... been plundered for that matter."

There's a pause between us. His eyes go up to the ceiling, "There's a definite line there I think."

"Yeah," my eyes follow his, "Plundering. Petty larceny on the other hand...a little burglary..." My eyes come back down and so do his. They meet.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He breaks the contact first and sucks in a huge breath, "Yes. It was good for me." but he doesn't release it.

"Good? Hell, the freakin' earth moved over here."

The air escapes from him. It comes out as a deep choked laugh. "Murton. Murton moved for you."

I can't help but join the laugh, "Murton moved. Is that what they called that place?"

His head nods.

"Murton," I roll the name on my tongue, "That's a suck name. Why the hell would anybody name their planet Murton?"

He snorts this time, "No idea." He goes back to his shoelace, "so Murton moved...Now what happens?"

"Well, I figure we got two choices. We forget it ever happened. We're big boys. I think we can get on with our lives." He nods his head again. Now its my turn to hold my breath, "Or... we keep going."

"Keep going?"

"Yeah."

His head moves down and sideways and I can tell he's fighting the urge to look me in the eye. Shoelace forgotten, his thumb and forefinger begin to work against each other. I find my eyes drawn to their rhythm. They tick out fast seconds while I wait for him to answer.

When his answer comes his voice is pitched slightly higher than normal and halting, "We could...keep...going."

I breathe. He finally meets my eyes. I know I have a grin plastered across my face. It's there in response to the one slowly building on his.

"Tell ya what," I say this as I rise from the floor and hold out my hand to give him a lift up, "tonight, after dinner, we go for a walk in the city. We do a little exploring." I put my hand on his shoulder and we begin to steer our way back to the more populated walkways.

I like Ferris wheels.
I like college football.
I like going 200 miles an hour.

His head cocks to the side so he can catch my eye, "We could discuss the penal code."

And I like Rodney McKay.