A River in Egypt

Title: A River in Egypt

Author: Mice

Category: Stargate: Atlantis, McKay/Beckett

Warnings: slash, pwp

Spoilers: Rising

Rating: NC17

Summary: Rodney thinks he's dating Carson. Carson thinks he's straight. They're both wrong.

Archive: If it's on your list, you can archive it. If it isn't and you'd like it, just let me know where you're putting it.

Feedback: Feed me, Seymour.

Website: Mice's Hole in the Wall http://www.squidge.org/mice

Mirror: http://mice.inkpress.org

Disclaimer: Not mine. They belong to many other people. But if they were mine, they'd be having very interesting adventures.

Author's Notes: A ravening bunny grabbed me by the brain. Thanks to Pas for the title. Beta by Pas and Luce and kt4ever and Heuradys, as usual.

~~~

We don't believe in rheumatism or true love until we have been attacked by them.

~~Mary Roberts Rinehart -- from The Man in Lower Ten~~

"Hey, Carson." Rodney poked his head into Carson's lab. "Lunch?" Not that he really had to ask. They had lunch together every day.

Carson didn't look up from his microscope, but he nodded. "Oh, aye. Give me five minutes to wrap up here, would you?"

He smiled as he watched Carson making notes. Carson was working on the ATA therapy, and Rodney wanted to be the first in line when it was available. Having the gene himself would make his work so much easier. The fact he hadn't been born with it was nothing less than cosmic injustice.

"Any progress?" he asked.

Carson snorted. "Not as much as you'd like, I'm sure." He looked over at Rodney. "And asking doesn't make the research happen any faster."

"So where are you at?" Rodney asked impatiently.

Carson finished his notes and shut down his laptop. "A little further than yesterday, but it's slow going. Some of this Ancient equipment does help, but I'll admit I'm still chary about using most of it. Makes me nervous," he said. He got up and joined Rodney.

"You really need to get over that," Rodney told him, one hand on Carson's shoulder to steer him out of the infirmary. "Getting offworld now and then would probably help."

Carson's eyes widened. "Oh, no. I'm not going through that bloody thing again. Once was enough, thank you very much."

"Why are you so afraid of it all?"

Carson sighed as they walked down the corridor toward the stairs. "I break things like that," he said. "I can't trust any of it. What if it hurts someone? What if I hurt someone?"

"Carson, notwithstanding what happened back in Antarctica, the chances of you hurting someone with Ancient technology are really very low. The medical technology, in particular, is designed with redundant failsafe mechanisms. And besides, if somebody did get hurt, you know how to put them back together again. I mean, that's what all your voodoo's about, right?"

"I don't want to hurt anyone in the first place!" Carson insisted. "It's not right, mucking about with all this stuff."

Rodney sighed, shaking his head. He loved Carson, but really, the man's fear of Ancient technology frustrated him. "May I remind you that 'all this stuff' is exactly why we're here?"

"No, Rodney, it's why you're here. I'm here because it's the best place to continue my ATA research, and to keep you lot in one piece." They descended two levels to where the mess hall was located. "I hope they've got something nicer than MREs today," Carson grumbled.

"Nothing at all wrong with MREs. I hope they have macaroni and cheese." Rodney couldn't help his stomach growling when he thought about it. He'd not had his mid-morning snack yet, having forgotten it while he'd been arguing with the little Czech guy whose name he couldn't remember.

Carson made a face. "I'd rather a sandwich, myself, though something hot like a good soup with be lovely with it."

"They'll probably have stuff for sandwiches," Rodney said, "but really, it's just too much effort to put them together. If they had them pre-made, that would be different."

"Lazy git," Carson muttered. He grinned at Rodney.

Elizabeth greeted them from her table when they entered the mess. After they got their food, they joined her. "And how has your morning been?" Carson asked.

"I'm going through Teyla's recommendations for planets to establish trade relations with today. We'll be sending out more offworld teams later this week. Since we don't have power to reestablish a wormhole to Earth, we're going to have to make provisions for when our supplies start to run low."

"It's a good plan," Carson said. "We should be looking for medicines as well. There must be other advanced civilizations in Pegasus that will have supplies we can use. What with these Wraith creatures running about eating people, I worry that we'll not be prepared if they find out where we are and attack us."

"How's your study of the arm Major Sheppard brought back going?" Elizabeth asked.

"I'm more interested in the progress on his ATA research," Rodney interjected.

"We know that, Rodney," Elizabeth said, smiling. "You haven't been able to talk about anything else when Carson's around."

"The DNA analysis is proceeding apace," Carson said. "I've not seen anything like it before, but I told you that the other day when he brought it to me." He shook his head nervously. "I don't like what I'm finding. I don't like it at all."

"May I remind you both just how essential it is that I have the ability to use Ancient technology?" Rodney said. No one else was even remotely as qualified to be using the stuff, and it would make his life so much less complicated.

"No, Rodney, you may not. You only do it every bloody time you open your mouth." Carson elbowed him.

"Shut up and eat," Rodney said. "That way you can get back to your ATA therapy protocols faster."

"You harassing me won't make it happen any faster," Carson said. "But the mouse trials have been going well."

Rodney snapped his fingers at Carson. "I want finished product."

"Until you grow wee ears and a tail, Rodney, you'll just have to wait." Carson snickered. Elizabeth giggled behind her hand.

Rodney glowered as Carson finished his tea and sandwich. "Very amusing," he said. "And you know the Ancient equipment would probably move the process along much more quickly."

Carson wiped the crumbs away from his mouth. Rodney watched, wondering when Carson would finally get around to kissing him. This whole dating for weeks without kissing was getting to be a drag, but Carson could genuinely be described as timid. "I'll see you at supper, Rodney," Carson said, standing. "Elizabeth."

"Later, Carson," she said.

"He's making me insane," Rodney muttered. He stared after Carson.

Elizabeth chuckled. "I'm sure he'll succumb to your charms sooner or later," she said. "Probably later." She smiled and got up herself. "Have a good afternoon, Rodney."

"Oh, thanks," Rodney growled. "Mock me when I'm being patient." There were moments when being Rodney McKay, even though he was the smartest man in two galaxies, sucked.

***

The day had been an exciting one. Carson was sure he was onto something. Several of the mice in this batch had managed to get flickers out of a harmless Ancient geegaw that flipped a feeding switch in their enclosure, and now he was sure he could get the retrovirus working. Rather than being decades, or even years away from his goal, he felt it was a matter of days.

He jumped from his chair, practically dancing across his lab, as Rodney came in. Before his friend could say a word, Carson grinned, grabbed Rodney by the face, and kissed him. "You'll never believe it!" he said, letting go and bouncing back across the room. "I think I've got it!"

Rodney looked poleaxed. "Got what?"

"The ATA therapy! I think I've got it now! All I've got to do is transfer the gene to a human host and see what we've got!"

Rodney broke into a thrilled grin. "You do? Wow! That's great, Carson! That's brilliant!" He was nearly bouncing now as well. "When do we get to try it out?"

"Give me another couple of days to prepare the gene for transfer, and I'll let you be our first trial." Carson was flying high, blissed out and almost giggling with his excitement.

Rodney grabbed him by the arm. "Carson, you are a genius! Not as brilliant as me, of course, but definitely still a genius." The excitement in his voice carried Carson, stirring something in him that made him even more giddy.

"I thought this was goin' to take years, Rodney -- years! I can't believe I'm this close to a breakthrough. Oh, I do hope the therapy works when we try it." He was grinning so hard he thought perhaps his face would split.

"It better," Rodney said, dragging him away from the lab. "Because I can't function around here without being able to operate this stuff. It's driving me insane! So let's go get food."

"Oh, aye," Carson said. "I think this calls for a wee dram of the whiskey I've been saving. You'll have to come by tonight after work and have a nip with me."

Rodney's grin got even broader, crooked and bright. "Oh, definitely. I'd love to. Meanwhile, lunch. We need to tell Elizabeth and Major Sheppard about this."

Carson breezed through lunch, chattering excitedly with anyone who would stand still for three seconds to listen. The medical staff was thrilled, and Sheppard was excited as well, because the gene therapy, if it worked, meant there would be more pilots for the Puddlejumpers. Elizabeth just beamed at him. Carson didn't care, really. All he could feel was the thrill of his work coming to fruition.

Rodney dogged Carson's heels for two hours after lunch, demanding to know when the treatment would be ready. Carson eventually had to throw him out of his lab so he could get anything done, but he was still too excited to focus on the work, and decided to take the rest of the afternoon off.

***

Rodney was excited and a little nervous as he got ready to go over to Carson's quarters. Finally, Carson had kissed him. That, of course, meant that sex was imminent. They'd been dancing around it for six weeks, at least, and his patience had been getting a little thin and tattered around the edges.

For all that Rodney could push when he wanted to, he cared too much about Carson to want to mess things up. If Carson wanted slow Rodney would do slow. But he thought that finally the whole snail-like courtship thing was over. More than anything, it was a relief.

While there was something to be said for anticipation and buildup, Rodney'd had enough of it. He really, really wanted to get laid. More specifically, he wanted to get laid by Carson.

He'd had any number of hot fantasies about the man. Carson's accent did him in. He had the most amazing blue eyes, and god, that smile just ripped Rodney's heart out and tapdanced on it. He wanted more than just being close. More than conversations and flirting and the looks they shared.

Rodney wanted to touch Carson, to be touched by him. He loved Carson's hands and how gentle the man was. He wanted to kiss him, to see him naked and hard and needy. But mostly, he wanted to toss Carson down on a bed and fuck him until they both passed out from the pleasure.

Oh yeah. It was gonna be a really good night.

The walk to Carson's quarters was short, and he knocked on the door. "Come in," Carson called, and the door opened. Carson was poking around in his closet and looked back at him. "Ah, Rodney, right on time. I was just getting out the whiskey." He grinned, and his face just glowed with excitement. Rodney loved how he looked.

Carson hefted the small bottle in one hand. "Glenfiddich," he said happily. "Grab a mug." He gestured to a pair of metal mugs on his desk.

Rodney smiled back at him and met Carson with the mugs, standing next to Carson's bed. Everyone's quarters were tiny, and Carson had only one chair. If they were going to sit together, this was where it would be. He held the mugs out. "Sounds great," Rodney said. His heart was hammering. He could hardly wait.

Carson poured out a couple of fingers of whiskey for each of them, took one of the mugs, and set the bottle down on his bedside table. "Cheers!" he said, tapping his mug against Rodney's. He tipped it back, sipping at the dark, heady liquor, and Rodney echoed him.

"Cheers," he said. He sipped too, and sat on Carson's bed. Carson sat next to him.

"I can't believe how well this whole thing has gone," Carson said, grinning. "It's just amazing."

Rodney nodded. "Yeah, I think things are definitely going well. Very well." He leaned in and kissed Carson, soft and gentle and excited.

He was surprised when Carson stiffened beside him and backed away. "Rodney?" Carson looked utterly lost and he sounded very confused.

Rodney blinked. "Carson? What?"

"Rodney, you... you kissed me." Carson was blushing. Actually, it looked kind of cute on him.

"Of course I kissed you," Rodney said. He slipped a hand behind Carson's head, pulled him in, and did it again.

Carson sputtered. "Rodney!" He took a quick, deep breath. "Why in bloody hell are you kissing me?"

Was the man deranged? "What do you mean why am I kissing you? You kissed me earlier. And really, don't you think it's about time?"

Carson sat there for a long moment with his mouth open, gaping rather like a beached trout. "Kissed -- Rodney, I was excited. I would have kissed anybody who walked in right then."

"But--" Rodney started.

"And what do you mean, don't I think it's about time?"

Rodney looked at Carson intently. "I thought you were ready for this. I mean, we've been dating for what, six, eight weeks now? I was sure you -- kissed anybody who walked in?" Rodney swallowed hard. "Wait a minute."

He didn't think it was possible for Carson to look more shocked, but he did. "Dating?" Carson asked, his voice weak and shaky. "You thought -- What ever gave you the idea we were dating?"

Rodney was starting to feel a bit peevish through the shock now. "Oh, I don't know. How about the fact that we've been having breakfast, lunch and dinner together for the past two months? How about that you've turned down dates with at least four women since we've been seeing each other? How about the whole thing with how we spend nearly all our off duty time together? That's not dating?"

Carson's eyes widened and his mouth flapped open and shut a few times as he squeaked wordlessly.

"Okay, okay. Right. This is some definition of 'not dating' that I'm totally unfamiliar with," Rodney snapped. He downed the rest of the whiskey in his mug. He figured he was probably going to need it. Carson just stared at him for another long moment then threw back his own mug in one large gulp. Rodney watched the motion of Carson's throat as he swallowed and wondered if he was going to break out in a sweat from the sight.

"Rodney." Carson took a deep breath. "Rodney, I... I mean, I'm flattered and all, but... but I'm straight."

Rodney snorted. "Yeah, right. Like straight guys turn down dates with *four* women in the course of two months. Tell me another one."

Carson set his mug down carefully on his bedside table and buried his face in his hands. He shook his head. "Can I just crawl under a rock now?" he asked. "Because I've no idea what you're talking about, saying I turned down four ladies while I was dating you."

"Oh, please," Rodney scoffed. "Everyone knows we've been seeing each other. And if you didn't notice the passes those chicks made at you, you're even more oblivious than people claim I am."

Carson just whimpered. Rodney sighed and sat down next to Carson again, slipping an arm around his shoulder. "Come on, Carson, stop playing games here. If you're not ready yet, just say so. Don't go telling me you're straight when it's obvious you're not."

Carson looked up owlishly.

"Seriously, I know you're attracted to me. How could you not be? I mean, I'm brilliant, I'm immensely attractive -- okay, so I don't get along with most people very well, but really, we've always gotten along spectacularly--"

"Rodney."

"What?"

"I'm straight."

Rodney stared at him. "No you're not."

"I like women, Rodney."

"Okay, so you're bisexual. There's nothing wrong with that. I mean, let's face it, Sam Carter is hot."

Carson sighed. "You're not listening, Rodney. I've never been interested in men before. I like women."

Rodney was starting to doubt himself a bit here. "What, are you saying you're not attracted to me? Because I don't see how that can be true if you've been dating me for the last two months."

"I've not been dating you!" Carson bellowed. "I'm straight!"

Rodney blinked a couple of times. He thought maybe he'd suddenly developed an arrhythmia. "Oh," he said softly. "I think I'll just... um... slink back to my quarters now and die of embarrassment." He got up and hurried for the door, attempting to maintain at least a tiny shred of dignity. It so wasn't working.

In the hallway, Rodney had a thought that gave him a little hope. "Before?" he asked. "He's never been interested in men before? Maybe he is now..."

***

Carson sat on his bed staring at the bottle of Glenfiddich and the two empty mugs. He poured himself another two fingers and stared into the mug. At this rate, the bloody bottle would be empty by morning.

It was the only bottle he'd brought. If they never got back in touch with Earth, it was the last Scotch he'd have in his life.

He downed the second mug.

Rodney thought they were dating? He found it difficult to believe, but it was true that they shared their meals together almost every day and that they spent most of their free time together. Did that really qualify as "dating?"

It didn't bother him at all that Rodney was gay. Or bi. Or whatever it was Rodney was. Carson had enough gay friends at university and through his years working toward the position that had landed him in Atlantis. They'd all been good blokes, really, and fun to be around. It wasn't even that he'd never had a pass made at him by any of them, but Rodney was just... so... Rodney.

He had to admit that he liked Rodney; that he cared about him, but that was what friends did. They cared about each other. They spent time together. He wondered where the misinterpretation had come in, because it was plain enough that somebody had been misinterpreting, and it bloody well wasn't Carson.

Had he really missed four women making passes at him? That was hard to wrap his brain around, but the alcohol was really starting to kick in, and his head was swimming a bit. He didn't remember any of the women asking him to see them. Certainly people flirted with him, women and men both, but he was used to that, and there was such a thing as professional behavior.

What had really shocked him, though, was how gentle Rodney's kisses had been. He'd never though of Rodney as the sort for gentleness. The man was big and blustery and arrogant and aggravating. How had he come by that unexpected and thoroughly surprising gentleness?

Carson reached up and touched his lips, which were getting just a wee bit numb from the whiskey. "Oh, my," he whispered. "I think he loves me."

That, of course, called for another drink.

Rodney McKay didn't love anyone but himself as far as Carson could tell. Certainly Carson knew Rodney liked him. There was something different in the way Rodney teased and harassed him as opposed to how he treated everyone else. There was... a softness about it. It was less about going for the jugular than with the others. Carson would almost call it indulgent. He poured a third drink.

Oh, god. Rodney really did love him. And he'd shouted at the poor man. He'd not meant to hurt Rodney, but the situation had been so absurd.

Well obviously, it hadn't been absurd to Rodney, but the man was living in his own little universe of Rodneyness. Carson belted back the third drink. He was starting to get a wee bit dizzy now, but he thought maybe dizziness was the best place from which to contemplate the strangeness his life had suddenly descended into. As if being in a different galaxy and surrounded by life-sucking alien monsters wasn't strange enough.

He set his mug down and lay back on the bed. "Oh, Rodney, what ever goes on in your head?"

The idea that Rodney had, in his own way, been courting him was just as confusing as the gentleness of his kiss. Rodney had thought they were dating for two months? And he'd been waiting for Carson to kiss him before he did anything? It just didn't make sense, given what he knew of how Rodney dealt with the women around them.

Rodney with women was a surrealist comedy. Carson was unsurprised that women didn't usually get near him or become his friends. He was a bit crude, and really quite sexist without intending to be. His natural assumption of his own superiority carried over into his relationships with women, leaving the ones who worked for him complaining constantly. Carson had heard them talking often enough during their year in Antarctica.

The warmth of Rodney's lips lingered on his disconcertingly. Carson sat and took another drink, trying to obliterate it. What was he going to do now?

***

If Carson hadn't been attracted to men before, there was at least some chance he might be now, Rodney thought as he lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. The issue was, how to persuade Carson that Rodney was the man he could be attracted to? Or maybe he was fighting that attraction at this very moment. That thought left Rodney's heart beating a little more quickly.

What made it all the more delicious was that if Carson had never been attracted to a man before -- before being totally the operative word here -- then that meant Rodney could be his first. And that? That was unimaginably hot. Though, of course, Rodney was going to imagine it a lot tonight.

He needed a plan. He needed to seduce Carson, to show the man what Rodney and apparently most of the rest of the Atlantis expedition had already seen in him. He had to be at least a little bit bi. Nobody that gorgeous was totally straight.

Rodney was confident that, given a little time and the right leverage, he was more than a match for Carson's self-image. The idea of having to deliberately seduce him was actually very hot. Way more than Samantha Carter hot.

Kissing Carson had been wonderful, even if it had ended far too quickly. God, Rodney loved Carson's mouth. He wanted to kiss him again. Aside from the shock, Carson hadn't actually seemed to object. If he'd really objected to the whole idea, Rodney was pretty sure he'd have been laid out on Carson's floor, and not at all in a good way.

Not that Carson was a violent type, not even a bit. But still, guys who were straight? They didn't usually take well to being kissed by their friends.

Rodney refused to accept that he'd fallen in love with a hopelessly straight man. He was far too intelligent to have done a stupid thing like that. Therefore, Carson had to be at least a little bit bent somewhere in there. And Rodney would find that spot and work it until it collapsed in a haze of hot, sweaty sex.

Seriously -- nobody spent that much time with anyone they weren't either dating or locked in a prison cell with. Atlantis might be isolated, but it was no prison cell.

Life had proved to Rodney that he could do pretty much anything he set his mind to. He was, after all, a genius of unprecedented caliber. Carson didn't stand a chance.

***

Carson woke with a hangover at least as big as Atlantis. He got himself through a shower and getting dressed and staggered off to his office, wishing he'd had more sense than to get himself that bloody drunk last night. Breakfast was a lousy idea.

Rodney met him there, looking surprisingly chipper for a man who'd been shot down the night before. He grinned at Carson. "Morning." He set a mug of coffee down in front of Carson. "You look really hung over," he said softly.

Carson nodded and moaned. He picked up the mug and sipped at it. There was just enough milk and sugar. "Thanks," he murmured.

Rodney sat next to him. "Why did you do that to yourself, anyway?"

He cracked one eye open and peered at Rodney over the coffee mug. "You even have to ask?"

Rodney shrugged. "Okay, so I may have jumped the gun a bit there. You don't hate me or anything, though, do you?" His expression was earnest, almost eager.

"No, Rodney, I don't hate you." He sipped his coffee again. "I'm not going to stop being your friend because you made a mistake."

Rodney's eyes softened. "Not a mistake," he said quietly. He put one warm hand on Carson's arm for a moment. It left a tingle when he moved it. Carson's breath caught.

"Oh, no, Rodney, not that again." He closed his eye and let the steam from the mug rise into his face.

There were large, broad hands on his shoulders a moment later, carefully rubbing the pain away. Carson moaned, almost silent, as Rodney worked his way slowly up the back of his neck and started in on Carson's aching temples. He thought he was going to melt. "Oh, that's good," he whispered. "Thanks." He leaned back in his chair, relaxing a little with his head resting on Rodney's chest, not caring that this was really sending Rodney the wrong message.

"Think about it," Rodney said, his voice quiet. "We get along really well. I know you've noticed." His hands caressed warm, comfortable circles along Carson's brow.

Carson was uncomfortable with the conversation. "Please, Rodney, don't do this."

He could feel Rodney lean down over him, his face close to Carson's cheek. "It doesn't have to be a lie," he whispered. Carson felt a soft, warm kiss on his ear, sending an electric tickle down his spine, and Rodney's hands vanished. "I'll see you at lunch. Take something for that hangover, would you? Just looking at you is giving me a headache."

Carson set down the mug and thumped his forehead on the lab table. It hurt far more than it should have. He groaned. Why did he have to like Rodney so bloody much?

***

His first strike had gone well, but of course it would, being Rodney was a genius and all. A hung-over Carson wouldn't be able to face breakfast, so coffee at his lab was the logical thing to do. The massage hadn't hurt at all either. It had felt good to have his hands on Carson, touching him like that.

They'd had lunch together and Rodney had let things rest a bit, not wanting to panic Carson by pushing too hard. But dinner, that would be the next figure in his equation.

He waited until he knew Carson would already be there, seated, before he got his own tray. Taking it over to Carson's table, he sat next to him rather than across from him. "Hey, Carson, how was your progress on the ATA today?" He tucked his chair close to Carson's.

Carson nodded to him. "I'll be another two days, I think, before I'm ready to try a human trial." He turned to Major Sheppard. "But if this works, Major, we'll have a lot more gene carriers for you."

Sheppard smiled. "Sounds good, especially if we start finding any Ancient armories. I'm betting their weapons are ATA locked."

"That would make sense," Elizabeth said, "given how much of their technology requires activation before anyone can use it."

Rodney let one elbow rub against Carson's arm. "I'm still first in line," he said. He smiled at Carson. Carson gave him an uneasy smile back.

"Of course," Carson said.

Rodney ate as he regaled Elizabeth with a description of Kavanagh's latest fuckup, staying close to Carson the entire time. Carson looked at him a few times, but didn't move away. Probably because he didn't want to cause a scene. He was so predictable that way.

He let his thigh rest against Carson's leg when he was about halfway done with his meal. Carson looked at him and moved his leg away, but Rodney scooted a little closer, pinning Carson against the table leg. He smiled brightly.

"Rodney," Carson said.

"Yes?" Rodney asked innocently.

Carson gestured down at their legs with his eyes then looked back up at Rodney. Rodney just smiled at him. Carson sighed and slumped in his seat to finish eating.

When they finished, Rodney got up and followed Carson out of the mess hall. "So, where are you off to this evening?"

Carson glowered at him. "To my quarters."

"Oh," Rodney said, tagging at his heels. "I'll join you."

Carson stopped in the corridor. "Rodney, why are you doing this?"

Rodney smiled. "I'll tell you when we get to your place." He grabbed Carson by the elbow and led him along.

"Bloody lovely," Carson muttered, dragging his feet as he followed. Rodney opened Carson's door and let them both in.

The door closed behind them and Rodney went over to sit on Carson's bed. Carson stared at him for a moment, sighed, and crossed his arms over his chest. "Well?" he asked. Carson really was adorable when he was being pissy.

Rodney lay back, resting his elbows on Carson's bed. "You really shouldn't deny that you're attracted to me," he said. "It's a waste of time."

Carson covered his face with one hand. "We talked about this last night. It's not any different today."

"Oh, but I think it is," Rodney told him. "You let me touch you. Hell, you let me kiss you again today. This is straight guy behavior? I think not."

"I was hung over, Rodney. I didn't know you were goin' to kiss my ear. I just thought you were trying to be nice about that and make me feel better."

"Oh," Rodney said with his best bedroom voice, "I was definitely trying to make you feel better." He grinned at Carson, who paled slightly.

"Rodney!" Carson's hands went up, waving in frustration. He looked good that way.

Rodney patted the bed beside him. "Come talk to me. You know this is inevitable."

Carson turned his face to the ceiling and groaned. "Why me, Lord?"

"Because you're hot? Because you're so not straight?" Rodney gestured him toward the bed. "Because I'm in love with you?"

Carson's face snapped back, his eyes wide. "Rodney, surely you don't mean that," he whispered.

Rodney got up and went to Carson, taking his hand and pulling him close. "You know I do," he said softly. Carson's breath caught and Rodney leaned in, slipping his arms around him. He kissed him, running the tip of his tongue along Carson's lips, his hands stealing along Carson's back. One hand slipped up the nape of his neck and into his hair, and Carson made a muffled sound. Rodney nipped Carson's lower lip then backed away. Carson stood, stunned, his mouth damp and gaping open. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Carson blinked a couple of times, silent and looking vaguely debauched as Rodney left. Oh yeah. He was so gonna win this one.

***

Carson's heart was pounding like thunder as he locked the door behind Rodney. He leaned on the door with one hand, trying to catch his breath.

His heart shouldn't be beating that way. He shouldn't be so dizzy after what happened. It was just shock, he told himself. Shaking his head, he went to the bed and sat down. It was warm under his hand where Rodney had been. Carson closed his eyes.

"Good Lord," he muttered. "What's going on?"

He fell back onto the bed. He had to be insane. Something was wrong with him. Rodney kissing him shouldn't make him feel whatever it was he was feeling now. Breathless. Afraid.

Excited.

"I'm doomed," he moaned.

Really, he was straight. He loved women. He'd been with quite a few of them over the years, and never a problem with it. And there'd never been a man who made him feel anything like a lass could.

Except that Rodney's kisses had shaken him.

He'd never kissed another man before in his life. Not like that, anyway. Just the way a bloke kissed his mates now and then, on the cheek or what not, to congratulate them or say hello.

If he'd not been so horribly hung over this morning, he'd consider another drink, but he doubted Elizabeth would approve. And really, neither would his liver. At least what remained of his Glenfiddich was safe for the night. He sighed.

Rodney loved him. Rodney'd *said* he loved him. That, Carson thought, was possibly the most frightening thing he'd ever heard in his life.

Well, lying here wasn't going to solve anything. He didn't dare go out. Who knew if Rodney might be lurking about, waiting for him, and he couldn't face his friend right now. He didn't have a book, and he was entirely too flustered to work on anything, so that was out as well. There were no movies on his laptop. He was shaking too hard to even attempt sleep.

With a sigh, Carson stood and paced back and forth, trying to steady himself. "The man's a loon," he muttered. "An absolute loon."

Up to one wall, pivot, down to the wall opposite. Pivot. He walked back and forth and forth and back for what felt like forever before his jittering started calming down. But the soft warmth of Rodney's lips stayed on Carson's mouth, and he rubbed at it, wondering why this had happened to him, of all people. Why had Rodney McKay decided he loved *him*?

And all right, so maybe he had turned down a couple of ladies who'd made passes at him in the last couple of months, but really, he had his professionalism to maintain. It wasn't like he could get involved with any of them if he was their physician.

It was a lousy excuse, and Carson knew it.

"I'm not attracted to him!" Carson told himself. "Really, I'm not!" And now he was talking to himself, and didn't that make him just as much of a nutter as Rodney?

He wondered what his mum would think about all this. With a sigh, he took off his clothes and tossed himself down on the bed. With a thought, the lights went out, and he tucked himself under the covers. Rodney had been lying there not more than half an hour ago. Lying on his bed.

Carson tried closing his eyes, but all he could see was Rodney, grinning at him. He opened them again into the dim light of his room. "I'm not gay," he said.

Rodney's voice mocked him. 'Okay, so you're bisexual. There's nothing wrong with that.'

"Damn you, Rodney," Carson growled. "Get out of my head." He pulled his pillow up over his face. It didn't help.

He needed some distraction. Preferably female distraction. Because, really, he was straight. Or at least not gay. He was definitely not gay.

Men had never done a bloody thing for him. He'd never been even vaguely interested in one. But he'd had a lot of girlfriends over the years. Lisa and Maureen and Jennifer and Susanna and Rosa... well, there'd been a lot of them, right enough. Pretty ones and funny ones and several bloody brilliant ones.

He'd had a bit of a thing for redheads for a while. Rosa had been a redhead, bright and wild. He thought about her, trying to call her face to mind. It was a bit hazy, really, but he remembered she had a lovely body.

He remembered making love to her, her body soft and warm, and how she kissed him and held him in her arms. Oh yes, that was good, that was distracting, and more than a wee bit exciting.

Carson licked his lips and his hand slipped slowly down his body, caressing his chest and his belly. He could feel himself getting hard. Mmm. Yes, Rosa. Kissing him. He touched himself, stroking his stiffening cock, and sighed as he relaxed back into his pillows.

Soft kisses. Warm and sweet, and the gentle sharpness of teeth on his lower lip as he stroked himself, his body responding. Oh, yes.

But it was wrong for Rosa. The mouth was wider, and the sounds were lower, and oh god, it was Rodney's kiss he was reliving.

It was Rodney's kiss and he was hard enough to ache and he squeezed his eyes shut, not knowing what to do as his hand kept moving. He needed this, but... why did it have to be Rodney?

Closed eyes didn't help, because he then saw Rodney's face, Rodney's broad, excited grin, and felt his big, warm hands on Carson's body. With a gasp, Carson stroked faster, hips moving with the rhythm. '"No," he whispered, panting. "Rodney."

He didn't want this, didn't want to think about Rodney like this. He was *straight* damn it, but his body wasn't paying any attention to that. Carson's cock throbbed in his hand and he couldn't get Rodney's face out of his mind. The play of Rodney's hands across his back and along his neck echoed in his body with the warmth of his kisses. Carson groaned and came, gasping for breath.

He was absolutely doomed.

***

Carson looked disheveled when Rodney saw him at breakfast. "You okay?" he asked as he sat next to him.

"Didn't sleep well," Carson said. He didn't look at Rodney.

"Sorry to hear that," Rodney said. "You know, I could probably help with that."

Carson looked up at him, wide eyed. "Uh, no, I don't think so, Rodney."

He rested a hand on Carson's back, and Carson stilled, their eyes locked. "You know it's right," Rodney whispered. "You know we'd be good together."

Carson started trembling slightly under his hand. "Please, Rodney, don't do this to me," he pleaded.

Rodney pulled his hand back slowly, letting his fingertips trail over Carson's shoulder as he did. "Do what?"

"Don't make me think about those things," he whispered. "Don't make me change what I am." There was a lost look in his eyes. Rodney knew he'd won.

"Nothing's changed, Carson. You've just realized what's been true all along."

"Rodney --"

Rodney smiled and shrugged. "Eat your breakfast. We'll have time enough to talk about it all later." He set a mug of coffee in front of Carson, prepared just how he liked it.

Carson stared at him for a long moment. "I don't understand you."

"It's simple, really," Rodney said, "though I can understand why it might be a little beyond you, being me and all." He grinned. "I love you. I want you. Eventually you'll realize that it's the right thing, and then we'll both be happy."

Carson stood. "Rodney McKay, you're a terrible man." He turned and left. Rodney sighed. It might take a while, but he'd still won.

***

Rodney wasn't at lunch, nor at supper, and Carson was very confused.

What was even more puzzling was that he'd not even stopped in at Carson's lab to ask about his progress with the ATA therapy. Even if Rodney were deliberately avoiding him, he'd surely want to check on that.

Carson hadn't been able to stop thinking about him all day. Every time he turned around, he'd expected to see Rodney standing there smirking. The scent of coffee tugged at his gut, leaving him shaking just a little. He'd not slept well the night before, with Rodney haunting his dreams and the memory of his kisses on Carson's lips.

He wanted to have it out with Rodney, to tell him that he didn't want this and Rodney should stop tormenting him, but the bloody wanker was nowhere to be found. That, though, seemed entirely Rodney-like.

His head was swimming as he sat in the mess hall after supper, thinking. He was more than a mite embarrassed that he'd reacted so strongly last night to how Rodney had touched him, to the man's kiss. He felt helpless against the whole thing and wondered when he'd changed so. He didn't understand why he had been so aroused by the thought of Rodney, by the touch of his lips, by the shocking gentleness in the way he was treating Carson.

Why did Rodney love him? Why did he want him? He'd done nothing to encourage it that he could recall. While it was true that Rodney had few friends, and that Carson was one of them, mere friendship didn't explain any of this.

It didn't explain why he'd trembled at Rodney's touch at breakfast. It didn't explain why Carson felt like he'd been dropped in the middle of a vast ocean and Rodney was his lifeboat.

He wanted to run. He wanted to hit the bloody bastard.

He wanted to kiss him.

Nothing made sense anymore. Carson didn't know if he was even the same person now. How could he be? All his life, he'd loved women. Rodney wasn't even a particularly pretty man. He was tall and broad and arrogant and entirely a man.

All right, so Rodney had an undeniable, rather odd sort of charisma. His brilliance and his humor made up for a great deal when it came to his rougher patches. For all his insistence on his superiority, he really was right most of the time. That didn't explain Carson's emotional turmoil. He was too young for a midlife crisis.

If Rodney was courting him, it was a peculiar courtship. It certainly was nothing like the approach Carson would have taken to attracting someone. But Rodney wasn't like anyone else, which he was quick to remind everyone of. Part of him worried that giving in to it would only feed Rodney's already immense ego. Then again, nothing anyone did would cure that.

He shivered, remembering the soft trace of Rodney's fingers over his back and shoulder. No one else had ever touched him quite like that, with that sense of casual, sensual confidence. It wasn't right that it should be Rodney who did that to him.

He wanted to feel it again, and it was tearing him apart.

All the time he'd been in Antarctica, it was him touching others. The Americans were distant, the Europeans casual, and the Asians -- well, he wasn't entirely sure he understood them and their cultural issues about touch. He was a doctor, so he touched people. But nobody touched him. Not like that. Not in a way that made him *feel* anything. And he'd been starving for it without knowing it.

Rodney had, all unawares, broken him open. There was no way he could patch himself up from this. He was adrift and he needed to be touched, to be held. He needed kisses like Rodney had given him.

Naturally, the bloody bastard was nowhere to be found.

He wasn't about to page the man. It would be too much like defeat. He went looking for him instead. He searched the labs where Rodney worked, but Zelenka said he'd left several hours ago. Rodney wasn't in his quarters, though Carson had hesitated to go there. He wasn't on any of the balconies that people had taken to star watching on.

Carson went back to his own lab, on the off chance that Rodney had come by to find out what progress he'd made today, but no one had seen him. He wasn't in the Gateroom.

He supposed Rodney might be visiting with someone, but that seemed unlikely. Carson was at a loss for where to look next. Frustrated, he returned to his own quarters.

The place was quiet and far too empty. With a sigh, he shucked his clothes and showered, then went to bed.

***

Rodney stayed out of Carson's way until the next evening. It had been interesting, keeping an eye on where he went. He had, of course, been right. Carson had gone looking for him last night, but Rodney had wanted to let him think about it for a while longer.

It bothered him, not being around Carson for so long. He missed the man's company. At dinner, Rodney saw him sitting alone at a table in a corner of the mess hall and went to sit with him.

"This seat taken?" He set his tray down next to Carson.

Carson looked up at him, surprised. "Uh, no."

"Had enough time to think?" he asked. He smiled.

Carson glared at him. "When did you get to be so cruel?"

Rodney shuffled his chair closer, letting his thigh rest against Carson's. "You needed time." He let his fingers trail softly from Carson's shoulder to his elbow. "I didn't want to push too hard."

"I wanted to talk with you last night and you were nowhere to be found, you bloody prat," Carson snapped.

"But you thought about it." His hand wrapped around Carson's wrist.

"Oh, aye. More than I ever wanted to." Carson's voice softened a bit.

"We can talk all you want tonight," Rodney said. "Or we can just be together. Your choice."

Carson looked fractured and fragile and Rodney slipped his hand from Carson's wrist to his thigh, just maintaining contact with him. He squeezed gently. Carson swallowed uneasily. "I do need to talk to you," he admitted. "I just... I can't really talk here. It's... it's too..."

Rodney nodded. "I know. Eat. We'll talk later."

Carson sighed and nodded, tucking into his dinner. Rodney ate too, neither of them saying anything, but Rodney kept his hand on Carson's leg the whole time.

When they were done, Rodney asked, "So, where do you want to talk?"

"I... I need a little time to collect myself," Carson said. "I'll meet you at your quarters."

Rodney nodded. "Okay. I'll be there."

"You'd better be," Carson muttered.

"Trust me," Rodney said. "I won't be anywhere else."

Carson glared at him. Rodney sighed and shook his head, then raised his hand to Carson's face, touching his cheek gently with the backs of his fingers. "Really," he whispered. "I promise."

Rodney watched him leave then went to his quarters. He hadn't been sure Carson would want to go there, but he'd suspected as much. That way, Carson would be in control of the situation -- he could leave and not feel like he had to throw Rodney out if things went badly. But Rodney was sure they wouldn't.

He'd changed the sheets that morning, just in case. Considering the way Carson had been reacting to him, he was fairly certain there would be more than talk, and he wanted to be ready if there was. Rodney was excited but didn't want to get too giddy. He may have won, but that didn't mean things couldn't still fall apart.

He opened his door and brought the lights up, though not too bright. He lit a couple of Athosian candles on the bedside table. Like Carson's quarters, his own had only one chair. They'd probably end up sitting on the bed, but that was fine with him.

Waiting, he was nervous. He knew he had Carson hooked, but if this didn't work, they'd both end up hurt and that bothered him. He loved Carson, and making the man see the truth had been hard on him. He didn't like how fragile and shaken Carson had seemed.

It wasn't long before Carson arrived, and Rodney let him in. "Hi," he said.

Carson nodded. "Why?"

"Why what?" Rodney closed the door behind him.

Carson shifted his weight nervously from one leg to the other. "Why do you love me? Why do you want me?"

Rodney approached him slowly, taking his elbow in one hand. "A lot of reasons," he said. "A lot of really good reasons."

"That's not an answer. I need to know." Rodney could feel him shaking under his touch.

He nodded at Carson. "Because you accept me for who I am. You've never tried to change me. You don't take any shit from me, and you give back as good as you get. You're smart, and you're good looking and you care." He took a deep breath. "You're all the things I'm not, Carson. You're kind to people. You're gentle. You're soft-hearted without being stupid. And it doesn't hurt that you're really, really hot."

"Do you have any idea what you've done to me?" Carson's voice was trembling.

Rodney wrapped Carson in his arms and pulled him close. "I hope I've shown you the truth."

Carson shook as he put his arms around Rodney. "I don't know what to think anymore," he said, voice breaking.

Rodney held him tight, rocking him slowly back and forth as he caressed Carson's back. "Do you want this?"

Carson buried his face in Rodney's neck. "Yes," he whispered, "god, yes."

Rodney grinned and he could feel himself shaking with his excitement. "Oh, good. That's really, really good." He held Carson to him, not wanting to ever let go, breathing him in. "I'm so glad you said that."

He could feel Carson's fingers clutching the cloth of his shirt and shuffled them both over to the bed. "We should sit down," he said quietly, not wanting to make any sudden moves. He tugged Carson down with him and they sat together. Rodney stroked Carson's side, just holding him, glowing with the rightness of it all and feeling more than just a little bit smug that he'd been right all along.

"I... please, Rodney, just hold me for a bit." Carson's voice sounded broken.

Rodney nodded, nuzzling Carson's temple. "Anything you need," he said. "Anything." He laid soft kisses in Carson's hair.

"I haven't been touched in too long." Carson was shaking in his arms and the words tore through Rodney, burning him to his core.

He let his hands move on Carson's body, soothing as best he could. "What do you need?" He trailed his lips along the curve of Carson's ear and down the arch of his neck, nuzzling at the skin there.

"This. You." Carson's breathing was ragged and he clung to Rodney like a drowning man.

Rodney cupped Carson's cheek in one hand and gently brought his face up. With a sigh, he kissed him, soft and careful. Carson whimpered and opened his mouth to Rodney, and Rodney's heart raced. He slipped his tongue between Carson's lips, taking him in a deep kiss, his body eager and desperate. He'd wanted this for so long, and Carson was so warm and solid in his arms.

Carson gasped, kissing Rodney back, their tongues twisting together. Rodney eased Carson back on the bed until they were lying side by side with Carson in his arms. It was better than he'd ever imagined, and he'd imagined a hell of a lot.

He was warm in Rodney's arms and Rodney let his hands move on Carson's body, exploring slowly and carefully. Carson may have finally admitted he wanted this, but Rodney knew it would still be too easy to scare him off if things moved too quickly. He nipped at Carson's lips, licked into his mouth, left moist traces on his lips and cheeks and chin. Carson's breath caught and he moaned, pulling Rodney atop him.

Rodney rested on his elbows, letting some of his weight settle on Carson's body beneath him. Slowly, he slid one knee between Carson's legs, savoring the way their bodies met. He was hard already, excited to be so close to Carson, and his own breath was short and harsh. He wanted this so much, wanted Carson to enjoy this, to want more of it. He wanted Carson even more than he'd wanted music.

Carson gradually wrapped himself around Rodney, legs curling about his legs, his hands still clutching Rodney's shirt. He moved slowly, almost writhing under Rodney, and Rodney could feel him getting hard as well. He was making tiny noises, sucking on Rodney's tongue, pressing his body up into Rodney's. Rodney thought his brain might leak out his ears if this kept up.

"Take it slow," Rodney whispered, his lips moving on Carson's. "There's no need to rush. We have all night." Not that Rodney wasn't all for moving right to the hot sex, but he knew that Carson wasn't there yet.

"I want you," Carson said, breathless. "I don't know how you did this to me, but I want you." He slid one hand down to Rodney's waist, tugging at the hem of his shirt to reach beneath it, warm fingers touching Rodney's bare back.

"Yes," Rodney hissed. He pressed his hips into Carson, gasping for breath and catching control of himself again. "You feel so good." He could hear the desperation in his own voice, but he didn't care. "Wanted you so much," he whispered. "So long."

"I've never --" Carson's voice cracked.

"I know," Rodney said, "I know. It's okay." He caressed Carson's face, running his fingers through the short, spiky hair. "I won't hurt you. I'd never hurt you."

"Skin," Carson whispered, shivering, his other hand sliding under Rodney's shirt, both of them moving along his back. "I need this, need the touch, need to feel you on my skin."

Rodney groaned and buried his face in Carson's neck, kissing and sucking the soft skin there. "Oh, god, yes."

Carson's fingers dug into the muscles of Rodney's back, and Rodney tugged at his shirt, helping Carson pull it off. Carson looked at him, eyes wide, as Rodney tossed it away. After a moment's hesitation, he started kissing Rodney's shoulder, his mouth moving along the collarbone from the arc of his arm to the curve of Rodney's throat; soft, short motions that left damp, burning traces along Rodney's nerves.

"Let me --" Rodney gasped, and Carson nodded. The two of them wrestled Carson's shirt off and then Rodney lay on him, belly to belly, chest to chest, and let the warmth soak into him.

Carson's eyes closed and his head fell back with a desperate, strangled, "God, yes."

Rodney licked his way from the hollow at the base of Carson's throat up to his stubbly chin. He tasted wonderful. As he kissed and sucked at the sensitive skin, Carson's hands explored his back and sides. "Oh, god, Rodney, I need this so much."

Rodney moved, kissing his way down Carson's neck to his chest, slowly tasting his skin. He caressed Carson's body, slow and careful, letting his fingers and the palms of his hands explore the curve of ribs, the light sprinkling of hair, and the hard nubs of Carson's nipples. Carson groaned and rocked under him, his hard cock pressing into Rodney's groin.

"Let me just... oh yeah." Rodney's hand slid down Carson's side to his waist, his fingers trailing under the cloth. He bucked into Carson, dragging a moan from both of them, then moved his hips and tugged at the button fastening Carson's pants. "Want to touch you," he gasped, "want to stroke you, taste you."

Carson whimpered and nodded. "Please." The word was barely coherent.

Both of them struggled with Carson's zipper, getting in each other's way. Finally, Rodney slapped Carson's hand away. "Let me, damn it."

"Right, right." Carson's eyes closed again and he leaned back, his hand stroking Rodney's upper arm, fingers tracing abstract patterns on his biceps.

Rodney tugged the zipper down. "Oh yeah," he said, slipping his hand inside as he kissed his way down Carson's belly. Carson smelled like arousal and heat and Rodney tucked his hand inside Carson's boxers, his fingers finally meeting the hard, slick silk of Carson's erection. Carson moaned, loud, and arched into his touch.

"Oh, Rodney." Carson's voice was shaking and his body was trembling. He ran his hands up Rodney's shoulders, trailing fingers along the nape of his neck and combing them through his hair. "Oh, that's so good. Please," he begged, "please, touch me."

Rodney licked Carson's abdomen, letting his tongue slip into his navel as he took Carson's cock in hand and squeezed slow and tight. Carson moaned and gasped, his hips jerking into Rodney's fist. "You are so hot," Rodney whispered against his skin. "You have no idea how gorgeous you are."

Carson whimpered. "Rodney." His fingers tightened almost painfully in Rodney's short hair. He was panting as Rodney began to stroke, slow and firm. A wave of desire shot through Rodney's body, leaving him slicked with sweat and desperate for more, but he didn't want to push Carson too far or too fast.

"Oh, god, you'll kill me," Carson groaned, his hips stuttering under Rodney's hand. Rodney couldn't take it anymore and brought his lips to the head of Carson's cock. It was slick and glistening, the foreskin slipping back and forth as they moved together. He kissed it gently then laved it with his tongue, pushing the foreskin back. Carson stiffened, his fists clenching in Rodney's hair, and he came with a strangled howl.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he gasped as his fluid spattered Rodney's face. "Oh, god."

Rodney licked and sucked, still stroking, wanting to taste Carson, not giving a damn that it was a little messy. He loved this, loved how Carson smelled and the taste of his come, Carson's cock still throbbing in his hand. Carson's chest was heaving under him and he was shaking hard as Rodney drew out the orgasm, sucking the head of his cock.

A few moments later, he moved, crawling up Carson's body to kiss him hard and deep. They were both breathless and gasping when he pulled away. "That was so hot," he said, leaning in to kiss Carson again. "God, I loved that."

Carson was still trembling when Rodney finally let them both breathe. His eyes were wide, and he reached up with one shaking hand to trail his fingertips through the come on Rodney's face. "It's all right?" he asked.

"Look," Rodney said, "I know a lot of women aren't into that, but you... god,