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crack_van2011-03-18 07:15 am
annieb1955.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2011-03-18 07:15 am
Entry tags:
A Cabin SKetch by aesc
Apologies for the late start to the week's reccing. RL decided to step up and whack me with a two by four.
Fandom: STARGATE ATLANTIS
Pairing: John Sheppard/RodneyMcKay
Length: 1,789 words
Author on LJ:
Author Website: aesc
Why this must be read: This is a sweet and gently flowing little fic, with just a hint of Rodney angst and panic. I love the idea of John and Rodney having a little bolthole of their own to go to. The last few paragraphs make me melt inside.
Excerpt:
"You look really good." You look not dead. You look wonderful. Oh my God.
"Thank you," John says, his funny little thank you that says satisfaction not only with the compliment, but with the knowledge that Rodney's bright enough to give it.
"Don't thank me," Rodney snaps, stepping closer. John smells like salt and work and sunlight, huff of water-cool breath against Rodney's mouth. His mouth is warm underneath, and that's salty too, familiar and confident, and John's fingers splay across Rodney's cheekbone, lightest pressure of gun-callused fingers against his face. Thunk goes the water bottle and John's other hand traces Rodney's hip, pulling him closer, and John's chest is firm and hot under his t-shirt, contented pace to his heart that has Rodney's thoughts slowing to match it and the slow summer day around them.
He leans back to look up at John, whose face is bright and eager and young, and grins.
Hey, McKay, John says, and John wears his smile like silk.
A Cabin Sketch
Fandom: STARGATE ATLANTIS
Pairing: John Sheppard/RodneyMcKay
Length: 1,789 words
Author on LJ:
Author Website: aesc
Why this must be read: This is a sweet and gently flowing little fic, with just a hint of Rodney angst and panic. I love the idea of John and Rodney having a little bolthole of their own to go to. The last few paragraphs make me melt inside.
Excerpt:
"You look really good." You look not dead. You look wonderful. Oh my God.
"Thank you," John says, his funny little thank you that says satisfaction not only with the compliment, but with the knowledge that Rodney's bright enough to give it.
"Don't thank me," Rodney snaps, stepping closer. John smells like salt and work and sunlight, huff of water-cool breath against Rodney's mouth. His mouth is warm underneath, and that's salty too, familiar and confident, and John's fingers splay across Rodney's cheekbone, lightest pressure of gun-callused fingers against his face. Thunk goes the water bottle and John's other hand traces Rodney's hip, pulling him closer, and John's chest is firm and hot under his t-shirt, contented pace to his heart that has Rodney's thoughts slowing to match it and the slow summer day around them.
He leans back to look up at John, whose face is bright and eager and young, and grins.
Hey, McKay, John says, and John wears his smile like silk.
A Cabin Sketch