Work Text:
Spoilers: None
Sequel/Series: No
Feedback: Love it.
Beta: The most wonderful and kind Lorellipsis, who puts up with all my typos and the various ways I've found to spell the same word over and over.
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The first time Rodney affectionately touched me in public, I was so astonished that he was five insults into the conversation before I was able to catch up. Being in love with a genius is a complicated business and getting past any of Rodney's defenses has been a work of art all of its own. Given that Rodney isn't a fan of public displays of affection, and I hadn't been working directly on that behavior, it was a pleasant shock when his fingers caressed my neck as he joined us for dinner one night. Rodney appeared completely oblivious to the act and I had to school my features so as not to alert him to his actions.
It had taken three months to convince Rodney that I was, indeed, pursing him. It had taken another five months to convince the thickheaded bastard we weren't just fuck buddies. Barely a month was required for him to realize I didn't care if anyone knew, but that was probably due to the fact that I kissed him in the Gate Room for all to see. Elizabeth had just rolled her eyes and told us to be a little more discreet. Money had been exchanged between the hands of both scientists and soldiers alike.
The touches continued, innocent but treasured; a touch on the arm, on the back, a caress to the cheek, or fingers carting through my hair. Time had a strange habit of slowing down and leaving me at a complete loss when those displays of affection occurred.
Tonight is movie night and, as the room is crowded, we're pressed close together on the couch. Rodney interlocks our fingers and a shudder races through my body. It's suddenly hard to follow the plot, hard to hear the comments on the story, and hard to breathe. I wonder, absently, if anyone notices I'm having an emotional breakdown.
I send a prayer out to every god, deity and angel, that Rodney doesn't consciously notice what he's doing. I don't want this to ever stop. Even in private, Rodney is still a bit reserved, still afraid of opening up and getting hurt. I've uttered more than a curse or two at those who have put so much hurt in this heart. A heart that wants nothing more than to be accepted and to be loved.
"Oh for God's sake!" Rodney swears, glaring at me. Then I find myself in the midst of a wet, sloppy kiss. In the background are the sounds of cat calls and the rustle of money exchanging hands again. When he lets me go, he's still glaring. "I love you too, you idiot!"
--end