Rose Wilde-Irish (rosewildeirish) wrote,
Rose Wilde-Irish

Fic - TMI

I was supposed to write today, but...not happening ATM. Maybe after caffeine.

In lieu of original stuff, here's my answer to last week's flasfic challenge at sga_flashfic. The subject was voyeurism.

Title: TMI
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Author: Rose Wilde-Irish
Pairing: McKay/Zelenka
Rating: Mature
Challenge: Voyeurism
Summary: Some things should be on a need-to-know basis, and John Sheppard figures he doesn't need to know.
Notes: Thanks to kyrdwyn for beta, and to zortified, patiencerose, tafkarfanfic, and qwirky for encouragement.

He's sure they think they're being subtle, but they're not.

As Radek steps up to Rodney's seat in the Puddle Jumper, John studiously does not notice the gentle brush of fingertips to back of Rodney's neck, a lingering caress that ends in a deceptively casual clasp of Rodney's shoulder as the other man leans in to study the screen. Of course, John reflects, it's possible neither man is aware of how good his peripheral vision is, how good it is in most pilots.

And so he does not notice the sidelong looks Rodney and Radek are shooting each other, the small quirks of mouth and the heat he can feel them radiate from here. He knows he volunteered to fly them over to the mainland, to explore some locations found buried deep in the Ancients' database, but right now, John feels like a third wheel.

He's not sure how long it's been since the two of them became a twosome, but he's sure it's not long at all. There's just something so primal between them, and of course Rodney can't hide a thing, not with open expressions and vulnerable eyes. And Radek's entire focus is Rodney when it's not the work; even not looking at Rodney he's aware of the other man, moving when he does, always encompassing him.

John sighs and wonders if it would be bad for the pilot to ask, "Are we there yet?"


"It's a cave."

"It's not a cave."

"Hello, Radek, the readings are clearly rock and stone. Do you think the Ancients could make those, too?"

"Of course it would read as stone, the Ancients were not stupid. But look at the interior, look at regularity and pattern. This is not natural."

Rodney looks around and gives a reluctant nod, starting to babble a theory which Radek enthusiastically modifies. John stifles a sigh. Foreplay, he thinks, knowing that's all the exchanges are. And then a horrific thought hits him and he wonders if others think that's what he and Rodney are doing when they bicker back and forth. But it's not like that, he thinks, there's not that electricity between us. He wonders if that would be apparent to someone else, and the inability to answer that shakes him so much he gets up off the rock he's perched on and dusts himself off.

"I'm going to go and scout the perimeter. Unless you two think we need to examine this place a little further?"

Rodney glances over at him, and then looks around the room. "I think we got past the hard part when we got into this room, thank you, Major," he says, eyes bright as he takes in the equipment. "There shouldn't be any more booby traps or dangerous portions. I'll radio if we need your magic touch."

John doesn't miss the slight flicker of Rodney's eyes towards Radek, nor the twitch that the smaller man makes. He nods to the two of them and quickly turns tail, making it a brisk--but not frantic--exit.


He's scouted the perimeter three times, not comfortable with being too far from the entrance. He wants to be able to reach it at a dead run in under 30 seconds, which limits where he can go.

Still, given Rodney's ability to grab trouble gleefully with both hands, he feels it wisest to err on the side of caution. Which is why, after scouting, he finds the most comfortable spot near the entrance he could, and settles in, enjoying the sun and the birdsong.

He's just started in on his ultimate football fantasty lineup for all time players, reluctantly eliminating personal favorite Joe Namath as not good enough, when his comm crackles.

And stays silent.

"Rodney?" he asks, sitting up a little more.

The only answer is a distant moan.

"Rodney!" he calls, a little more concerned, standing and moving towards the entrance. The moan comes again, and he frowns, something about it causing him to pause. He listens again, suspicious, and in a moment he hears Rodney gasp "Radek!" and he blushes scarlet as he realizes why Rodney removed his comm.

John just wishes it hadn't accidentally toggled open when Rodney dropped or tossed it aside. He switches off that frequency and sighs.

A moment later he's hastily moving as far from the entrance as he feels is safe, trying to block out how the odd accoustics of the place have twisted the sounds coming from the chamber. He shivers as the faint, eerie noises reach him, all the way at his self-imposed boundary. For a moment he considers moving further off, but knowing both men are currently distracted from all external stimuli (make that very distracted, he thinks as he hears a particularly loud exclamation from Rodney), he rules that out.

He is so going to have to find a way to make Rodney pay.

He switches the channel back on, wanting to be rid of the weird dissonance coming from the chamber, and sighs.

Payback, he grimly decides, is really going to be a bitch.


John exits the tunnel rapidly, banging his head on the rock outside as he tries to rid his mind's eye of the images currently burned in. He'd waited for the sounds to diminish, then waited an extra amount of time just to be safe. And all had been quiet for a reasonable amount of time before he'd entered and wandered back to the chamber, fully expecting to find two sated but at work scientists.

Instead, he'd been treated to a sight he knew he would spend years trying to forget - that of Dr. Rodney McKay on his knees, servicing Dr. Radek Zelenka with every evidence of enthusiasm and enjoyment.

Oh yes, John thinks darkly. Definitely going to have to work on payback on this.


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