A Simple Game Of Touch

by Cynical_Coat

URL: http://www.area52hkh.net/asc/ccoat/gametouch.php
Summary: Rodney goes outside after John makes a potentially provocative bargain

"No."

"Aw, come on--"

"Absolutely not, Major."

"It'll be fun--"

"I don't know if you've noticed, Major, but our concepts of fun are quite vastly different. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do..."

John sat down next to him, crossing his arms on the table and laying his head on them.

"Sooo... What'cha workin' on, Rodney?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"So I can gauge how long you'll be working on it before you get bored."

"Not likely, Major... This device harnesses solar energy in such a way that it might actually be able to recharge a ZedPM."

"Oh. Important... But that can't be... very interesting... Can it?"

"Major, this is a waste of my energy, patience, and time. There is no way that I'm going to indulge you..." He looked at John sidelong, thinking of the long list of things that John could offer in compensation to change his mind... all very nice, and undoubtedly satisfying... but highly unlikely.

"No way, huh?" John grinned at him in a way that almost seemed to imply what Rodney was pondering. But only almost.

"None what-so-ever." Poker had never been his strong suit, but lying was second nature by now.

"A life-time supply of chocolate?"

"What constitutes 'life-time' to you?"

John bit his lip, obviously realizing that he couldn't come through on that one.

"How about a date with any woman currently in the city?" Meaning Teyla and Elizabeth were on the Mainland...

"Thank you, but no..." That was as close as he ever planned to come to actually telling John where his preferences lay... ever. That sparkle of innuendo appeared and disappeared in John's eyes again... there and gone in an instant.

-imagination and libido... nothing more...-

"A cat?"

"Far from practical." He answered immediately, trying desperately not to miss Rosencranzt, or to remember dear departed Gildenstern.

"I guess..." John said, actually sounding disappointed. "So... nothing? NO way at all?"

"That's about the scope of it, Major."

"The chance to pummel me in a public forum isn't enough of a draw?"

"Not enough to outweigh the potential of you pummeling back."

John nodded and stood, heading for the door. Rodney couldn't help but glance after him as the door slid open... but instead of a parting glimpse of the tight ass he had so fantasized about, he saw only John's bright, open epiphany grin.

"What?"

"I've got it! How about a no-holds-barred I.U.O.?"

Rodney stared at him, blinking to keep himself from staring too blatantly. Despite all he stood to lose... that was just too damn good to pass up.

"Fine. I'll play your stupid game." He sighed.

"Football. It's called football." John corrected him, but he was still grinning.

"*American* Football..." He snorted. "It's got nothing on the real thing."

"What? Soccer?"

"Don't even get me started..."

***

And that was how Rodney found himself outside on the Mainland, in the sunshine and wind, instead of holed up in his nice, cool, artificially lighted lab actually getting work done.

Because his nether regions wouldn't let him pass on what could be his only ever chance to get into Major John Sheppard's pants... or at least rub up against him under the guise of a tackle. Or, he shuddered to think, to slap him on that lovely ass. That was acceptable, right? Under the circumstances, of course...

"Lesson one, Rodney." John said, smiling. The sun light played havoc with Rodney's mind as it reflected and refracted off those hazel eyes.

"What?" He said after a moment, not able to comprehend what John was talking about.

"If you're going to play with the big boys, you have to learn the basics." John said patiently, and Rodney loved it for him, even as he was annoyed.

"Right, of course... The big boys... basics..."

"Are you okay, Rodney?" He looked genuinely concerned. "The sun hasn't already addled your brilliant mind, has it?"

-brilliant-

"No such luck, Major."

"Good." That grin again, and then the football was flying straight at Rodney's face. For a brief moment, he considered moving, but by then it was too late.

-thank god for gravity...- He thought somewhat incoherently just as the ball hit him in the chest hard enough to make him grunt, and then fell to the ground at his feet. John winced.

"You... you're supposed to catch it." He said after a minute.

"No shit." Rodney shot back as he leaned down to pick up the offending object. "How about a heads up next time?"

"Right..." John was watching him warily, as if unsure what he was planning. Rodney turned the ball over in his hands and looked around.

"Maybe it's just me... but shouldn't there be more people?"

"Ford and Teyla are going to come play later, after they're done visiting in the village."

"And you didn't think it would have been fair to let Teyla in on this little training session?"

"Oh... she's already had her's." John seemed to regret that, but Rodney just smiled and shook his head, hiding his jealousy.

"So that's where you disappear to... beating up kids and women... noble."

"And geeks. Don't forget geeks."

"How could I?"

Seeing his grin, John laughed... and then cried out in surprise and pain as the football collided with his nose. He was caught so completely off-guard that he fell on his ass. Somehow, he managed to catch the ball even as he fell. Rodney erupted into laughter, louder and harder than he could ever remember laughing before. Wiping tears from the corners of his eyes, he walked over to John and extended a hand. John eyed it warily, and Rodney rolled his eyes.

"What's lesson one?"

John grasped his hand and grinned as he pulled himself upright.

"Expect the unexpected."

That threw them both into another fit of laughter that nearly deposited them back on the ground. Rodney sobered slightly when he realized that Jon was hanging heavily on his shoulder, still wracked with laughter. He reveled in it until John took a deep breath and moved out of his personal space, looking as if nothing at all was amiss. Maybe it wasn't...

"Now what?" John said, trying to look annoyed though he was still grinning. "Don't tell me you're thinking again."

"A horrible habit, I know..." Rodney said dryly, trying not to remember John's arms around his neck.

"Hey, I know just the thing for that... Go long." He was already running backwards as he spoke, and Rodney headed off in the other direction. He watched John's arm go back and snap forward, watched the ball seem to float through the distance toward him... and prayed fervently to any god who would listen to let him catch it...

One step, another... one more... wait and wait and wait... And there it was, snug in the crook of his arm, and Jon was running for him, yelling and grinning.

"Yes! Exactly, Rodney! There's hope for you yet." He stopped a little way's away and spread his hands. "Now throw it back."

This was no longer a chore. Now, suddenly, he realized why so many teenage boys (not to mention grown men) thought that football was life... more than life. He had a feeling that if he had thought of it at all, he would have thought of it like that. Maybe even to the exclusion of his all important studies.

Football wasn't a game. It was a drug. And Rodney was high on it, like he was high on John's smile.

Several Days Later

"Hey, Rodney!" John called from behind him. "Wait up." Rodney thought of just hurrying on instead, but having had a taste of John's tackling prowess first hand, he figured he didn't have a chance. He waited.

"What is it now, Major?"

"Remember when we played football the other day?"

"Vaguely." He drawled, trying not to construe the faint hurt in John's eyes as anything but pride.

"Well, I've ben thinking... That wasn't really a real game of football... not with just the four of us. And, I mean, you seem to be getting a lot more out of this deal than I am."

"How do you figure? I haven't gotten anything out of this deal yet." He tried to keep the leer out of his voice, but it was difficult.

"Yeah, but eventually..."

"Eventually what, Major?"

"Well, you know... you can ask for anything and I have to agree."

And how very tempting that was. So tempting in fact that Rodney didn't have the balls to ask. He told himself that it was because he didn't want a pair of black eyes and a broken nose, but really he hadn't asked because... Well, because he wanted more than a single I.O.U. was likely to give him, even if he got up the nerve to ask John to sleep with him... which he couldn't do, because of the impact it would have on their working relationship and the nice friendship they had going. Truth was, he wanted John to want him, not to indulge him out of obligation, but to actually want him. And that wasn't going to happen, so why make it hurt more by fooling himself?

"That's the theory, Major..."

"So... I was wondering if... maybe... you'd want to play again?"

"Why?"

John dug his hands deep into his pockets and smiled.

"You looked like you were having fun before, Rodney... it was good to see you like that."

Clamping down on the fluttery feeling that smile induced, Rodney crossed his arms.

"Why really, Major?"

"Fine... I might have already told Ford and Teyla that you agreed to be our fourth against Stackhouse's team..."

"That was nice of you..."

"I kinda assumed that you'd say yes..."

"Well, you're military. I'm sure you know what happens when you assume?" Rodney sighed. "Who else is playing?"

"Stackhouse, Markham, Bates... and Dr. Beckett."

Rodney's eyes widened at that last.

"Carson?"

"Seems he played rugby in high school. It's not exactly the same, but close enough to get him to agree to play."

Rodney nodded, frowning in concentration.

"Why me?" He asked, and John blinked at him, titling his head to the side in confusion.

"What?"

"I can understand your other choices... but why me?"

"Oh... I figure if you're good enough for my Team, you're good enough for my team." He grinned and ran a hand through his hair, making it even more unruly. "I mean... If you're good enough to watch my back during a firefight, you're more than good enough to play football with, right? And really, there's no one I want on my team more than you."

There was something in his eyes again, something not quite covered by innuendo, and falling short of outright desire... a sort of hopeful desperation that Rodney couldn't afford to believe was more than wishful thinking...

"Well... when you put it like that." He said grudgingly, and was rewarded by a triumphant grin and a light slap on the shoulder that sent a little shiver through his body. "I guess I could play... When?"

"Right now! Come on." He grabbed Rodney's arm, already pulling him toward the Jumper Bay, not seeming to notice or care that he was running through the city practically holding Rodney's hand. But Rodney noticed, and Rodney cared. And Rodney thought he was probably making the biggest mistake of his life, if not his career.

***

There was some quiet snickering from the other team when John pulled Rodney aboard, still holding his arm. To his credit, John released Rodney sedately, not dropping his arm, just ceasing to clutch it quite so urgently.

"This is your fourth? Your 'secret weapon'?"

"Why yes, Stackhouse, he is." John said as he made his way to the cockpit. "Any problems with that?"

Stackhouse glanced at Teyla of all people, and swallowed thickly, shaking his head.

"No, sir. No problems."

"Good... wouldn't want any personal bias to get in the way of a good, clean game." John said lightly, but it was as much of a warning as he was likely to give.

Carson smiled and gestured for Rodney to sit next to him.

"Glad you could make it, Rodney... It's a beautiful day, and you really should get outside more." He said pleasantly as Rodney dropped onto the bench.

"I get outside plenty..." Rodney muttered, carefully not looking at the military contingent across from them. Carson clucked his tongue.

"I mean when you're not on mission."

"Oh, well... I tend to equate fresh air and sunlight with peril and bodily harm, so you'll excuse me for staying inside a bit when I can?" Rodney shot back, and was confused to see Carson grin.

"Hey, no fraternizing with the enemy, McKay." Ford admonished, and Rodney felt himself grin in response.

"I wasn't fraternizing, Lieutenant... We were engaged in a battle of wits which you seem unqualified to join."

"Is that what they're calling it these days...?" John said from the drivers seat. That got a smile out of everyone but Teyla... but she was already smiling, so it made little difference. Rodney relaxed slightly, glad that what ever situation might have been brewing seemed to have been diffused. In a moment, everyone was engrossed in a discussion comparing American football and rugby that he didn't quite join... but somehow, thanks to John, he was included in.

***

"Come on, Rodney... I'm open!!" John yelled at him from what seemed lightyears away... and he simply drew his arm back and threw, barely caring where it went as Bates bulled into him. As he hit the ground with as little care, he almost made a comment about how they were supposedly playing Touch Football, not Tackle, before pushing Bates away and getting back to his feet in time to see John breezing into the endzone. He cheered. He high fived Ford. He grinned as John ran toward him and slung an arm around his shoulders, making inarticulate sounds about good throws and hang time... the meaning was lost under the unshakable feeling that John was hanging on a little longer, a little tighter, a little closer than strictly allowed by endorphins and adrenaline, even in this game. Ford was clapping him on his other shoulder, and Teyla was grinning at the other team in triumph.

"So much..." Markham panted. "For it being a... fluke..."

"I believe the score is now..." Teyla began calculating it as she had after each touch down, but Stackhouse didn't let her finish.

"Might as well be a billion to zero, we know when we're beat..." He grinned at John, knowing that he'd been lulled. Rodney had in fact turned out to be their secret weapon. The other team had constantly underestimated him, and he had pulled through. Until the very end, only Carson had seemed to consider him a threat... and Carson hadn't done much about it.

"Aye... You played a good game... I might even be tempted to relive the experience... But not today."

"Right." Rodney said briskly, stepping out of John's embrace with a shrug of apology. "Let's go home... You all smell awful."

"Speak for yourself, McKay." Ford said loftily. "I smell like roses."

"After they've been through a stable, maybe..."

Everyone laughed and headed for the Jumper, Rodney hanging back slightly to watch them as they walked... strange how two groups of people could pummel each other so indiscriminately, only to suddenly become one mass...

"I like the way you smell." John whispered in his ear and he jumped.

"What?"

"I said I like the way you smell... You should get all sweaty more often." The something that had been lurking in the background of his eyes and voice leaped to the foreground, and certain parts of Rodney's brain shut down to correspond with the parts of his anatomy that kicked into overdrive.

"Oh... and I was going to take a shower when we got back to base... but if you like me sweaty so much, maybe--"

John wrapped an arm around his shoulders again.

"Oh... Don't change your plans on account of me." He let that implication sink in before continuing. "I'm sure we can find a way to get you sweaty again..."

All in all, Rodney had to say football was an okay past-time...

Even if it still couldn't hold a candle to hockey.

Epilogue

It was all John could do to fly them home, his mind still filled with the scent of Rodney... It struck him that he was smelled sweaty Rodney a thousand times, but it had never had this effect on him before. All he knew was that Rodney could call in that IOU anytime, as many times as he wanted, and John would do anything to keep him happy.

Anything.

It was a wonder they made it back to the city at all, the way the Jumper kept picking up his errant thoughts and sending him messages that roughly translated read 'does not compute'. Once they landed, he carefully got himself under control and climbed out after the others, glad that the fact that he had his own shower excused him from anything publically communal. There were some things that you never really wanted to explain to the men under your command...

He grinned at that, thinking that the only man he actually wanted *under* him in any compacity wasn't even actually part of his command. Maybe that was what made any of this even remotely possible.

Following Rodney at a distance of ten paces was killing him, so he moved faster catching up, suddenly not caring who might see... He'd take care of that later. Right now he had more pressing issues to deal with...

Rodney glanced back at him as he disappeared through the door to his quarters, and that heated desperation drove John even wilder. He darted into the room, his lips on Rodney's before the door was even properly shut. Rodney thrust himself against John with an urgency that more than matched John's owe, and suddenly he was pulling at John's clothes and wrenching his mouth away.

"Shower." He moaned, turning one of the cleaner words in John's vocabulary into the dirtiest, foulest, sexiest thing he had ever heard. "Now."

They broke apart awkwardly to remove shoes and socks, holding each other for balance before crashing together again, clothes literally flying off of them. John heard something rip, but he was so far past caring that he didn't even know if it was his or not. They stumbled naked into the bathroom, rubbing and grinding and moaning as Rodney tore one hand away to fumble the water on. Normally, John could have done it with a thought... but he seemed to be fresh out of coherent ones at the moment. The water heated quickly and John pulled away slightly so that he could brace them as they stepped under the spray. He had the feeling that a fractured skull or two might dampen (pun so intended) their festive spirits.

"Easy, Rodney..." He moaned as Rodney started to slide his hand roughly between them, jerking them both at once.

"Sick of going easy, John... Want it rough and fast and now." Rodney muttered darkly into his neck, and John felt his heart clench even as the rest of him threatened to fly off the handle.

"You're the boss, Rodney... Just as promised... but--" He tried to continue but was interrupted by a near feral moan... it took a second to remember that it was his own.

"Don't talk." Rodney said simply before capturing his lips again. When he was once again capable of semi-coherent speech, John broke his promise.

"But I thought maybe you wanted more than this...?"

Rodney looked up at him with strangely sad eyes... and then all he could see was the grey wall as Rodney flipped him around and pressed tight to his back.

"You're right. I did have something more in mind." After a brief moment, John felt soap slicked fingers pressing into him. Even as he gave his body over to the pleasure of Rodney's amazingly talented hands he gave his heart over to dispair... he'd been wrong. Again.

He hissed as Rodney's heavy cock suddenly breached him, and Rodney stilled behind him. John shook his head and squirmed against the pain and need coursing through him.

"Move, damn you!"

"Is that an order?" Rodney laughed, and then thrust himself in. John cried out and arched his back, slamming himself into the wall in the process. Rodney stilled again, holding him steady and murmuring comforting sounds. He waited until John began to grind against him again and then slowly began a steady rhythym. John reached over his shoulder and tangled his fingers in Rodney's hair. Determined to get the most out of this that he could. It would probably be his only chance. He moved in a steady counter-point to Rodney's body until he felt the rhythym start to degrade. To his shock, Rodney didn't make a sound as he came... he sunk his teeth into John's shoulder and rode out his climax in silence, leaving John to shout through it alone. Once spent, they slowly slid to the floor, still connected. Rodney wrapped his arms around John's waist, holding him in place...

It was hard to tell, with the water cascading over them... but John thought that he might be crying.

Very slowly and gently he shifted, letting Rodney's cock slide out of his body with sigh of loss, before twistinfg around completely and taking Rodney into his arms. Still lost in the haze, he whispered,

"That was amazing..."

Rodney snorted and pulled him closer, his words nearlt lost under the drone of the water.

"Yeah right..."

"I mean it... Hail Mary." He tried to make it a joke, but it came out reverent.

"Tha's blasphemy..." Rodney muttered, turning his face up slightly so that he could see John's eyes. "You mean it?"

"Yeah."

"'Cause I thought it could use some work." There was trepidation in that, and John realized that he'd had it all wrong. He smiled.

"You know what they say about practice..."

Rodney snorted again.

"God, I hate cliches..." He muttered, and then kissed John, reaching up to turn off the water. John grabbed his wrist and grinned.

-fin... really...-