tailspin

There are two men kissing right by the fire.

The reactions are interesting all around. Ronon sees Teyla's face and nudges her with, "What? Athosian men don't kiss?"

Teyla looks a little apologetic, explaining that the Athosians are very much a man/woman type of people, though she has nothing against this kind of coupling.

While trying not to look too uncomfortable, John sees Rodney looking right at him. He looks lost in thought, his face looking flushed by the heat of the big fire.

Rodney doesn't seem to notice that John is watching him back and they end up locked in a long gaze.

Rodney snaps out of it suddenly, frowning, his eyes darting to see if anyone's noticed his absence of mind.

When he's composed himself, that's when he notices that John's irritated.

"What?" he asks John.

John glances at the newly joined couple, still kissing by the fire, and looks away with a weary sigh.

Rodney looks at the couple and then at John, adding two and two to make five.

John makes an excuse and leaves the fireside, Rodney watching him leave, a strange look on his face, like someone just told him the city of Atlantis is fake.

Things are normal, or as normal as John can have them be.

Every now and then, Rodney questions him with a look, pushing him for an answer, and all John can do is look back defiantly, telling him with a glance that, no, it's not okay. It's a big deal.

There's that look of disappointment again. So sad that maybe it'll dilute the blue of Rodney's eyes to a lifeless gray.

The team carry on as they ought to, but Rodney's retorts are just that tiny bit sharper and John is just that more impatient with the scientist. They both have to rein themselves in when their uncharacteristic animosity produces looks of worry between Ronon and Teyla.

It gets to a point where John doesn't even want to look at Rodney.

"Something's happened between you and McKay," Ronon says after their run.

John is breathing hard, concentrating hard on bringing the bottle of water to his mouth. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Ronon says, watching him closely.

John nods. "What makes you say that?"

"You're both acting like you hate each other."

John shrugs. "We're always sniping at each other. It's our thing."

Ronon snorts and shakes his head before smiling at John, looking over his shoulder as he takes off for another run, with a shout of, "No it's not."

John watches Ronon run back up the catwalk as he stands there alone, aching and tired.

It's hard to avoid Rodney. They're both on the same team. They both report to Elizabeth. They're both needed for the crisis of the week.

Rodney is Rodney. He's loud. He's arrogant. His brain and mouth run faster than two-hundred and fifty miles per hour.

Listening to him and watching his hands speak a language of their own is dizzying. John feels like he's going into a spin. Only, there's no bailing out. Just spinning and inevitably heading towards crashing.

He's aware of himself snapping at Rodney, telling him to get to the point. Rodney snaps right back, cold blue eyes giving a heated look. They hold each other's gaze for a brief moment, which feels painfully long before everything starts to move again.

John feels himself fall a little closer to crashing and burning.

John falls hard and it's not for the first time.

As he gathers himself up from the floor, Teyla is watching him curiously. John takes a breath, sniffs, rolls his shoulders back and gets back into position.

Teyla continues to watch him, head tilted to the side, her eyes warm and concern written all over her face. John remembers kissing her, trying to find something in that moment. All he finds is a memory of hunger. But that could be something old. He can't even tell anymore.

"Come on, let's go," John says, strengthening his stance. "I'm good."

"You seem distracted," Teyla says. Not tired, not sick or anything else. Distracted, she says.

John shakes his head. "Yeah. Didn't sleep well."

"We can do this another time," Teyla says with an understanding smile.

John gives her a smile, feeling it stretch across his face, all charm and grace. "Oh, I think I can handle it."

Teyla smiles, amused, and gives him a nod.

John falls hard and it's not for the last time.

They were going to have to talk about it eventually.

John knows Rodney and he knows that Rodney's been itching from the first moment to ask questions. There's only so much running John can do.

Rodney's waiting outside his quarters, impatient and irritated.

John opens his mouth, but Rodney cuts him off. "I'm trying to figure out what's going on here, but so far, I've got nothing."

John nods mutely.

"See, I keep thinking about what it might be and all I can come up with is the look on your face on that planet, when you got up and left. It makes sense, but at the same time, I guess I'm having trouble believing it."

"Believing what?" John asks, ordering his voice not to betray him.

"This whole 'don't ask, don't tell' thing. I get that it's there, I just never figured-"

"That I'd have a problem seeing two guys kissing?" John asks.

"That you'd have a problem with people being who they are," Rodney says quietly, searching John's eyes. "It's not very...you."

"I don't have a problem," John says. "I have no problem with people doing what they want in private."

Rodney seems to flinch, or maybe he doesn't. But he's watching John for a long time, like he's turned to stone.

"Huh," he finally says, his face forever incapable of hiding a single thought. The last time someone looked this disappointed in John, it was a different galaxy.

"Look-" John starts, a spike of panic in his chest at the thought that he's broken something that can never be repaired.

"It's okay," Rodney says, so calm, it can't really be him, can it? "You don't owe me an explanation."

They stare at each other for a while and the space between them is cold like ice.

"Right," Rodney says, giving a little nod. "I'm going to go now."

He instantly moves to leave, brushing past John. It's a reflex that surprises John, his hand shooting out to stop Rodney, closing around his arm.

Rodney stops and frowns at John. John instantly lets go.

What's he supposed to say? I've seen the way you look at me? Don't hate me? I'm sorry? There's nothing he can say to make Rodney stop looking at him like he's even worse than the Wraith.

"It doesn't mean anything, Rodney," John says, even though it's too little, too late.

Rodney's still frowning, looking at the ground and then back at John. "I think it does, Colonel."

Then he's gone and John is left alone, tired and aching.

John falls hard.

But he gets back up fast. Every time he falls, he gets up a little faster than before. The sweat on the mat hasn't even dried and he's up, bouncing on his feet and watching Ronon. The other man is smug and confident and it makes John roll his eyes.

John moves to strike Ronon, but Ronon grabs his wrist, twists him around and John ends up with Ronon pressed up behind him, his own arm wrapped around his throat, his wrist in Ronon's grasp.

John sighs. Fuck this.

"What did you do to piss McKay off?" Ronon asks, pushing John away.

John walks away and picks up his towel, wiping the sweat away and taking time before he faces Ronon. "What are you talking about?"

"He's quiet. Teyla says something's wrong," Ronon says.

"Why don't you ask him?" John asks, a littler sharper than he intends.

Ronon arches an eyebrow. "Okay."

John watches Ronon and wonders if he would ask and if Rodney would tell. There's nothing to stop them going down the road forbidden to others.

Rodney is quiet, but only when he catches sight of John.

John can see an immediate change in him. Rodney doesn't even try to hide the fact that it's John who is making him stop mid-sentence, making him look momentarily lost and wounded. It's all right there.

It makes John want to say he's sorry, every time he sees Rodney. Or to run.

It's like trying to figure out the ground from the sky. He has no idea what the right way up is anymore.

It all falls apart when they're both shoved into a small stone cell because they have the gene that makes Ancient lamps glow.

The Amaraans want Rodney to make their machine work, to find out what it does and if it's a weapon. Rodney doesn't know what it does and he tells them over and over.

"You're lying," one of the guards says.

"He's not lying," John says. He knows Rodney and he knows that Rodney isn't lying.

The guard seems to think it over and looks at John for a long time. Then he looks at Rodney's face, too honest for his own good.

"Maybe this will help you to find out what it does," the guard says, before he shoots John in the stomach.

John tries not to fall, but it's like the ground has hands that are tugging at the bullet in his gut, pulling him down against his will.

Somewhere above the sound of pain, Rodney is yelling at the guard, telling him he doesn't know anything.

Time slowing down, dripping like honey, John can't tell when Rodney arrives at his side, a big hand squeezing his shoulder.

Rodney is mumbling and muttering, pulling at John's jacket, pushing aside his hands. "Oh...god, I don't know what to...I don't even have anything," Rodney is whispering breathlessly. "Colonel? Colonel," he says, giving John's arm a shake.

"I don't think they believe us," John manages, swallowing down pain and nausea.

John focuses on looking at Rodney when the other man doesn't say anything. Rodney looks terrible, taking off his jacket and bundling it up. In the next moment, John feels something press hard against his stomach, where he imagines there's a hole big enough for a bowling ball to fit into. He grunts against the pain of Rodney trying to stem the bleeding, his fists clenching at his sides.

Rodney looks at John, so wounded. It doesn't seem fair that someone should wear their feelings on their face like lines on a page. It's not fair on John.

"I wasn't lying," Rodney says, his voice breaking. "I really have no idea what that machine does. I...I don't know what to-"

John's hand shakily goes to Rodney's, which is holding the jacket to John's stomach. John covers Rodney's hand, and it's weird because there they are, both their hands covered in the same blood.

John just watches the other man shake his head as he makes a feeble attempt to squeeze Rodney's hand. But Rodney is muttering to himself, trying to figure stuff out, talking about blood and crazy alien people. John just watches. A bullet in the gut to let him touch the other man and watch him unashamedly seems a fair exchange somehow.

Rodney frowns and looks up slowly and it's too late for John to look away.

There must be something he sees on John's face, something in his eyes, because the blue eyes go from observant to realization, the mouth hanging open a little. He's looking at John with a face that says he knows. He's just seen it all over John's face.

John feels Rodney's hand slip from his and Rodney is disappearing slowly from his field of vision, his expression frozen.

John can hear banging on the door, Rodney calling for the guards.

John closes his eyes, his body in a spin, heavy, yet floating. He thinks about letting go of the controls, closing his eyes and just falling into the spin, heading to the ground, and disappearing into a ball of fire. It's so easy to do that.

But someone keeps waking him, keeps making him mumble nonsense he can't remember a second after he's said it. Someone's holding on and stopping him from falling, even though, sometimes, you want to fall.

He wakes up and assumes the reason he doesn't feel much of anything is because of whatever's been added to his drip. He feels heavy and even though he has words, he doesn't seem to have the power needed to force them out of his mouth, which is a shame because Rodney's there, his face coming into view above John.

"Hey," Rodney says, and John notices the other man looks tired and worn out.

John gives a nod, which feels more tiring than it should.

"Carson says you'll be fine. No missions for a while, but you'll be okay," Rodney says, subdued, eyes never looking at John for too long. “Ronon and Teyla just left a minute ago. We owe them a big thanks, in case you're wondering.”

John licks his bottom lip, but still, the fuzz of anesthetic is heavy across his whole body and he can't find the adequate breath for words.

Rodney is looking at the beeping monitor, eyes narrowing, mouth muttering, but silent. He finally fixes his frown on John. He opens his mouth and John grimaces at a twinge of pain, shutting his eyes tight.

A large, warm hand covers his, gently squeezing and John doesn't open his eyes, because Rodney could still be looking at him with disappointment, which hurts a million times more than a bullet in the gut.

Right now, he just wants Rodney to keep holding on.

Things are weird. Rodney drops by the infirmary. He talks about everything, but the one thing they should be talking about.

He drops by on his own, with Ronon and Teyla, with Elizabeth. Sometimes in the morning, sometimes in the dead of night when he's taking a break from working. But he never asks John anything. So John starts to wonder if it's all in his head. Maybe Rodney is none the wiser.

John leaves the infirmary and still, Rodney is just being Rodney. Yet, they're both like two different people who have never met.

John figures it's time to get reacquainted.

Rodney is on one of the piers and John is surprised to find him there. Rodney doesn't take the time to shoot the breeze or smell the roses.

John sits down next to him on the bench and they're both watching the sun sinking into the sea for the night.

Rodney looks across at John with a frown. "Should you be out here?"

John nods. "Fresh air, which is why I'm surprised you're here."

Rodney snorts and goes back to looking at the sunset.

"I was looking for you," John says.

"I know," Rodney replies. "You know what's really weird? I was walking past a window in the mess and I saw the sun was about to set and it occurred to me that I've never seen a sunset on Earth. And now I really want to. Even though, this is better. I mean, new galaxy, that's a big deal. It's better. Isn't it? Know what's even weirder?"

John shakes his head. "What?"

"The next time we're back on Earth, I'll probably think it's a waste of time and not bother because there's always something better to do," Rodney says, looking a little wistful.

"Rodney," John says, because talking about fucking sunsets is killing him.

Rodney turns to look at John, his mouth a little twisted and his eyes sharp and glittering. "Is this going to be the part where you explain that acting like an idiot was your way of saving us both the heartache? Because I'd rather you didn't.” Rodney takes a deep breath. “What did you think I was going to ask you for? Seriously, why couldn't you just tell me?"

John swallows because as usual, hindsight makes everything look so pointless and such a waste of time. He wants to tell Rodney that he couldn't let Rodney know, not the way he's seen Rodney look at him, his need and want so open and naked. Who the hell goes willingly into a tailspin?

"We can't all have what we want," John says, his eyes on the disappearing sun, making him think of where home is: the lost city of Atlantis.

"So you decided it would be easier if I just thought you were a jerk," Rodney says, giving him that look that any person in Atlantis responsible for an idiotic mistake has gotten.

John sighs, closing his eyes and tilting his face towards the fading heat of the universe, his hands gripping the edge of the bench.

"What do you want?" Rodney asks, his voice soft and close, like he's watching John.

John turns towards it, opens his eyes and meets Rodney's expectant gaze.

What does he want? He wants to be able to lean across and kiss Rodney, without a care in the world. In the galaxy. He wants to, push his lips against Rodney's, see if they're as soft as they look, and he wants to taste the inside of his mouth, touching him all the time, letting his hands press against Rodney's body.

Most of all, he wants it to be okay to want this.

"What?" Rodney asks, softer, a little urgent.

John looks away at the sky, which is gray, the very last curve of the sun sinking, leaving everything as cold as the metal tags against his chest.

"I want...things to be okay," John says, heart sinking into the sea with the sun, everything going dark so quickly.

Rodney sighs and they both sit there, watching the sky darken, the stars coming into view, too far away for their warmth to count.

"You ever seen a sunset on Earth?" Rodney asks after a while.

"Sure," John says.

"What's it like?"

John shrugs. "They're pretty much the same wherever you see them."

Rodney looks at John, a little disappointed perhaps. "Huh."

"It's not the sunset that matters," John says, picking out stars in the sky.

"It's not?"

John can see Rodney's watching him, but he continues to look at the stars, counting every single one, shining like bullet holes in the fabric of space. "No. It's everything else."

Rodney nods. "That's very...I have no idea what you're talking about."

John smiles and chances a look at Rodney, laying himself bare, not letting his face harden into a mask that hides everything. "Are we cool?"

Rodney rolls his eyes. "No, Colonel. You're cool. I'm...I'm fine," he says, going for laid back, but faltering on the last word.

John nods. It's enough. It has to be.

"So, Ronon's been telling creepy stories again," Rodney says after a long time.

"Yeah?" John says, closing his eyes, letting the breeze stroke his face as he tilts his head up.

"Apparently, he knows how to kill a Wraith and use its hands for gloves," Rodney says, sounding disgusted.

John smiles. "I swear he makes half of this stuff up."

"Yes, well, I won't be the one to test that theory, thank you," Rodney says, veering off into discussing the people he'd like to see scooped out by Ronon.

John sits there and listens. He looks across at Rodney who is gesturing and talking and breaking the speed of light. Rodney, who is still there, who didn't run away. Rodney, who he still wants to kiss, maybe in front of a huge fire and everyone watching.

One day, John thinks, I'll make it okay to want this.

- the end -

collision