Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Category/Rated: Slash, PG
Year/Length: 2008/ ~356 words
Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit, only having fun.
Prompt: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard, shared mug/cup
"Do you know how unhygienic this is?" Rodney doesn't sound like he really cares very much. The words are slurred just a little bit, and he's leaning heavily against John's side. His breath is a warm puff against John's neck, moist and sweet smelling from the liquor they've been drinking for the last few hours.
John shrugs, shifting just a little bit. His fingers aren't working as well as they should where he's holding the cup. The metal seems warmer than it had at the beginning of the night, and John drags his fingers absently across it. It feels weird, and he smiles to himself, humming and letting his eyes fall half closed.
Rodney continues, thick voiced, "I'm just saying. That. You know. There are germs. In mouths."
John snorts, pulling Rodney a little closer and wondering how hard it'll be to get them shifted to a more horizontal position. The world is already starting to list around a lot. And the stars have recently started spinning quite a bit. John decides to stop looking at them.
John says, trying to pull Rodney over without just dumping them down onto the hard ground, "Buddy, I don't think we really have to worry about germs." Rodney grumbles something, pushing at John's shoulder and going a little heavy with sleep.
"Always have to worry," there's just a hint of real stress and sadness beneath the words. It makes John frown, and if he were more sober he's sure he'd probably be able to do something with this conversation. But he's definitely not.
Instead, he finally gives up and lets gravity pull them sideways. His nerves have been numbed to the point that it doesn't even hurt. Which is nice. Probably, it'll be a bitch in the morning. He'll worry about it then. For now, he just nudges Rodney over and mumbles, "You've sucked my dick, Rodney. I don't think there are any more germs you can catch."
Rodney snorts softly, and then mumbles, "Okay, good point," and the next second he's snoring. John shakes his head, closes his eyes, and lets the booze and exhaustion drag him down.
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