kageygirl | Fangirling the fangirls, and other musings

Completely unrelated to anything except "why is my life so odd?", I have four mosquito bites on the back of my right hand, in a half-a-square-inch area. The truly weird part is that they're almost lined up in a perfectly bisected right triangle.

Mosquitoes are doing geometry on the back of my hand. If this were fiction, no one would ever buy it. *g*

Dove Dark Promises, the little dark chocolate pieces wrapped in foil? Have messages printed on the inside of the foil--mildly romantic, like "Remember your first everything," or vaguely naughty, like "Smile. People will wonder what you've been up to."

Today's message managed to stab my cheesy romantic button squarely in the... button: "When two hearts race, both win."

Good lord, I'm unredeemable. Irreversably contaminated. But I kinda sorta said, "awww."

Speaking of "awww" (look, Ma, segue!), this past weekend, I was bummed, bummed was I, most likely a combination of post-traumatic stress from six days of entertaining my parents, Insane Psycho Tourists that they are (from which I'm still recovering, catching-up-online-wise), and still having to wait for the season premieres. (Three days! Eeee!)

Part of what pulled me out of that (besides y'all being you) was rereading one of my favoritest, guaranteed-happy, never-ever-fails-to-make-me-smile series of fics,

kalimyre's Environmental Controls series (in her journal, or on Wraithbait).

And

kalimyre, again, made me give a huge fangirly squee and get all shiny and happy again. If you've never read them, go, read. If you have, go read again, dangit. *g*

Such a fangirly squee did I give, that I just had to write a tiny missing scene for part 4, Gelid, which

kalimyre incredibly graciously encouraged me to post. ("She liked it!" squee!)

Naked

Warm was the feeling that John woke up with. Warm--and somehow illicit, in a good way, concentrated along his chest and his legs and especially under his hand.

He focused on the hand, resting as it was over warm bare skin, and it was the bare and the skin parts that finally dragged him the rest of the way to waking.

He'd come back to Rodney's room after doing their laundry, washing away the evidence of their misadventure with Rodney and a cave and twenty-seven hours of mud and worry, and found Rodney asleep again.

Rodney had shut him down after they'd woken up the first time, but that hadn't stopped John from slipping back into bed with him. Maybe that was where the illicit feeling came from, that John had snuck in to join him again without a real invitation.

That, or the fact that he knew Rodney was sleeping naked, and that there was now warm bare skin under John's hand.

He'd ended up with his hand splayed over Rodney's hip, thumb tucked into the crease at the top of his thigh, fingers fanned out just where the edge of Rodney's ass curved down and away.

It was a dangerous spot, just barely neutral--let his hand slide one direction, and he'd be palming the swell of Rodney's ass. Let it wander the other way, and he'd end up where that trail of hair down the middle of Rodney's chest terminated, the one he resolutely had not been following with his eyes in the shower last night.

But where he was, he was balanced on the precipice, and he kind of liked the imminent thrill. Even when it became still more precipitous, when Rodney stirred under his hand and then woke up--maybe disturbed by the faint tension in John's hand.

"You're here," Rodney said, voice rough with sleep or casual annoyance. John couldn't say which.

"I washed your clothes," John said, going for charming, though it probably came out inane. He was distracted by Rodney moving again--it made John's thumb slip along his skin, rubbing over the silky warmth.

Rodney rolled his head on the pillow, looking in John's general direction, though John was sure he couldn't see past his own shoulder. "I was wondering whether you'd gotten in the habit of collecting dirt-encrusted souvenirs."

John propped his head on his free hand, so that he could see Rodney, or so that Rodney could see him. Maybe both. "Nope. Got the dirt out. Well, most of it," he admitted, remembering Rodney's not-as-blue-as-it-once-was shirt.

"And then..." Rodney raised his eyebrows--at least, the one John could see, making the bandage on his forehead bob with it.

John shrugged, just a gentle roll of his shoulders and a twitch of the hand still perched on Rodney's hip. Rodney hadn't objected, so John wasn't going to make a big deal about it until Rodney did. "You were in bed."

"So you got in bed, too." Rodney glanced at him through one narrowed eye.

"A nap seemed like a good idea." John drummed his fingers gently on Rodney's hip, just to feel the skin give and spring back. "After all, you had it first."

Rodney snorted. "Oh, no, no, that wasn't me. Blame Carson and the frustrated despotism of the medical system."

"I'll do that." John stifled a yawn and sank back onto the pillow, close enough to feel his own breath curling against the back of Rodney's neck. John hitched closer, hand tightening briefly for balance, and his chest brushed against Rodney's back.

Rodney went still for a minute, then exhaled. "So, you did our laundry?"

"Yup," John murmured, staring at the curve where Rodney's neck flowed into his shoulder. He didn't mention the near-miss he'd had with Ford, not that there was really anything for him to--miss, nearly. "Don't expect that to become a habit."

"Perish the thought," Rodney said dryly, then rolled away from John and stood up. John let his hand settle on the mattress, though the warmth lingering in the sheets wasn't anything like the warmth of Rodney, and deliberately closed his eyes to keep from watching Rodney walk around the room naked as he gathered up the clothing he'd left scattered earlier.

John wasn't sure he should be looking, not in the light of day, and he didn't entirely trust his eyes not to wander.

"And now I really do need to get back to my lab." John peeked enough to see that Rodney had his pants on, and he pushed himself upright as Rodney pulled on a shirt. "My lab, emphasis on 'my,' despite the authority problems of certain so-called health professionals."

Rodney dumped John's clean uniform on the bed and slipped into the bathroom, cutting short the logistics dilemma John had just formed in his head about changing in front of Rodney. He was still wearing Rodney's boxers, after all, and it would be safer to leave them here, instead of risking another non-incident like the one with Ford. And it wasn't like Rodney hadn't seen John naked just last night--Rodney had actually pulled John's pants and boxers off himself, in the shower.

But he was relieved anyway, and he didn't stop to think about why, just shucked Rodney's boxers off and started pulling his own clothes on in the meantime.

He was just debating whether to put his dried-mud-covered boots on over his nice clean socks when Rodney came back out, squinted down at the clumps falling onto the already-mud-streaked floor, and frowned. "What about the rest of this mess, anyway? At least half of that is yours, you know."

"Accumulated in the effort to rescue your sorry ass, I'll remind you." Debate settled, John grabbed his boots in one hand and stood up, smiling at Rodney. "Besides, I think it's only fair that I leave something for you to clean up, Rodney."

"That's exactly what I was afraid of," Rodney muttered, almost to himself. But his usual acerbity rang a little hollow, and something in his face was stripped bare, more naked than when he'd been walking around without any clothes on, and John had to turn his head away.

Because John wasn't sure he should be looking at that, either, and he tapped the door control with one hand, forcing himself not to flinch at the fleeting chill of the crystal under his fingers.

***

Current Mood: cheerful
Current Music: Offspring, "Come Out and Play"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

thegrrrl2002.livejournal.com

Oh, I just loved "Environmental Controls". And now your missing scene, too. Snuggling in bed, does it get any better than that? Hip touching. ::sighs::

I so enjoy when you have the happy shiny fangirly squee goin' on.

From:

Fangirling the fangirls, and other musings

Page Summary

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags