Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Category/Rated: Slash, PG
Year/Length: 2008/ ~565 words
Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit, only having fun.
Prompt: John/Rodney fluff where Rodney's pissed for something John did - one of those ridiculously silly fights couples have - and John's being adorable and sorry.
Rodney says, "I'm not talking to you."
He doesn't even look up, and John can't quite stop himself from saying, "You did just then," even though he knows it's only going to irritate Rodney even more. He bites his tongue afterwards, but Rodney's shoulders are already tensing up further, his mouth twisted down unhappily.
Rodney still isn't look up, pounding at the keys on his laptop and keeping his gaze forward. There are dark circles under his eyes and John feels something in his chest ache. He eases forward, leaning his hip cautiously against the desk and carefully setting down the tall cup of coffee that he specially doctored up to meet Rodney's tastes.
Rodney doesn't so much as bat an eye in his direction, even though John knows that Rodney has to be able to smell the coffee. John winces. Apparently, things are worse than he thought. John takes a quick look around the room. The rest of the science staff is practicing aggressive ignoring techniques, which John takes a moment to be grateful for.
Then he clears his throat, and says, "I made you coffee."
A muscle in Rodney's jaw jumps, but he doesn't say a word. If you had told John four years ago that Rodney would give him the silent treatment when really, really pissed off, John probably would have done everything in his power to really, really piss Rodney off. But now, actually experiencing it, John's fairly sure that it's the worst thing ever.
Perhaps it's time to pull out the big guns. John pulls the special dark chocolate bar out of his breast pocket, and sets it beside the coffee. No response. John grimaces, because, okay, he knew he was in deep shit, but he hadn't realized that it was ignoring-chocolate deep.
For a long moment nothing changes. John just leans there while Rodney types away, the scent of coffee wafting around them. Finally John has to shift a little, because the edge of the table is digging into his hip. He says, "What do you want me to say here?"
No answer. Rodney twists in his chair to grab his own cup of coffee and drink, even though John knows that it's cold and tepid and has probably been sitting there for hours. And that probably shouldn't make John angry, but it does anyway. He grabs Rodney's chair, spinning it around to face him while gritting out, "Rodney, I'm sorry, okay?"
That, at least, gets Rodney to look up at him. There's a lot of anger in Rodney's expression, his mouth pressed thin and his eyes sharp. There's red staining across Rodney's cheeks and his hair is messy. There's even a day's growth of stubble over his jaw. And he's just glaring, still not saying a word.
John reaches out, then, knowing full well that there's a good chance he might lose his arm. He touches Rodney's shoulder anyway, leaning over so he can keep his voice low when he says, "I'm really sorry I laughed about your knee going out," he does everything he can to properly convey his remorse with his eyes.
For another long moment Rodney just glares at him, but then something in Rodney's expression thaws. Rodney heaves a sigh, rolling his eyes, and John feels something in his gut relax. And then Rodney says, airily, "You're still not ever getting another blow job."
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