esteefee (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
esteefee) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sga_saturday2014-08-09 01:29 am
esteefee) wrote in sga_saturday2014-08-09 01:29 am
Entry tags:
For Week #167-169 Hand: More Than Words (John/Rodney, PG)
Title: More Than Words
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
esteefee
Pairing: John/Rodney
Rating: PG
Words: 323
Category: fluff, snippet
Warnings: none
Summary: Communication is more than talking.
A/N: omg cheesy pop song title!
Inspired by this daily-flan post.
More Than Words
by esteefee
Rodney felt a profound sense of achievement. John Sheppard was lying naked beside him on his stomach, looking happily exhausted with his eyes closed and a thin layer of sweat still gleaming on his face. Rodney was tempted, almost, to move closer—not to cuddle, per se, nothing like that; he wasn't a cuddler, damn it—but as soon as his weight shifted the mattress, Sheppard's eyes popped open.
There was the distance Rodney knew so well, the hard edges he was familiar with, drawn in the shadows of Sheppard's eyes, the angles of his shoulders and bony wrists, and for a moment Rodney felt exhausted himself, and not the happy kind. But he found himself reaching out anyway, helpless not to, drawn to the soft-looking wisps edging the hairline on Sheppard's neck. He brushed his thumb down along it—it was soft, so soft—and sank his fingers into the dense hair growing at the back of Sheppard's skull.
Sheppard's eyelids fluttered, his mouth opening.
Rodney blinked and stroked lightly with his thumb, scratching Sheppard's scalp with his fingertips.
"Rodney," Sheppard said, and Rodney froze, because he'd never heard Sheppard say his name like that, never in all the times he'd growled it, bitched it, shouted it, or smirked it out the corner of his mouth. This was an entirely new way, as if the sound waves had been recalibrated to carry vibrations via a wholly unique configuration.
Sheppard stared at him, eyes half open, then lifted his hand, still looking intently at Rodney's face, like he saw something important there; Rodney wondered frantically what he was revealing. And then Sheppard rubbed his thumb over Rodney's bottom lip, his fingers cupping Rodney's cheek.
Rodney's heart, most unfairly, flipped right over in his chest.
"John," he said. The word buzzed against John's thumb, sounding strange, sounding wonderful, sounding new.
John smiled, and Rodney knew he'd heard it, too.
Rodney moved closer.
End.
Author:
esteefeePairing: John/Rodney
Rating: PG
Words: 323
Category: fluff, snippet
Warnings: none
Summary: Communication is more than talking.
A/N: omg cheesy pop song title!
Inspired by this daily-flan post.
More Than Words
by esteefee
Rodney felt a profound sense of achievement. John Sheppard was lying naked beside him on his stomach, looking happily exhausted with his eyes closed and a thin layer of sweat still gleaming on his face. Rodney was tempted, almost, to move closer—not to cuddle, per se, nothing like that; he wasn't a cuddler, damn it—but as soon as his weight shifted the mattress, Sheppard's eyes popped open.
There was the distance Rodney knew so well, the hard edges he was familiar with, drawn in the shadows of Sheppard's eyes, the angles of his shoulders and bony wrists, and for a moment Rodney felt exhausted himself, and not the happy kind. But he found himself reaching out anyway, helpless not to, drawn to the soft-looking wisps edging the hairline on Sheppard's neck. He brushed his thumb down along it—it was soft, so soft—and sank his fingers into the dense hair growing at the back of Sheppard's skull.
Sheppard's eyelids fluttered, his mouth opening.
Rodney blinked and stroked lightly with his thumb, scratching Sheppard's scalp with his fingertips.
"Rodney," Sheppard said, and Rodney froze, because he'd never heard Sheppard say his name like that, never in all the times he'd growled it, bitched it, shouted it, or smirked it out the corner of his mouth. This was an entirely new way, as if the sound waves had been recalibrated to carry vibrations via a wholly unique configuration.
Sheppard stared at him, eyes half open, then lifted his hand, still looking intently at Rodney's face, like he saw something important there; Rodney wondered frantically what he was revealing. And then Sheppard rubbed his thumb over Rodney's bottom lip, his fingers cupping Rodney's cheek.
Rodney's heart, most unfairly, flipped right over in his chest.
"John," he said. The word buzzed against John's thumb, sounding strange, sounding wonderful, sounding new.
John smiled, and Rodney knew he'd heard it, too.
Rodney moved closer.
End.