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The harvest festival on New Athos had been a resounding success, with much celebration shared among friends, old and new. Rodney was one to usually shy away from what he thought was frivolity, but there was something special about the day. Atlantis was back in Pegasus, where it belonged, and families long separated across months and galaxies felt the comfortable embrace of loved ones. Even John had lost the hard edge that he'd tightly held on to once they'd left Earth and crossed back into Pegasus.
Wandering through the small groups of people, hidden off from the rest of the world to spend some time together, Rodney glances around, careful to give people their privacy (even if they are just spread out on a blanket, couples holding each other under the stars) as he looks for John. He sees a small bonfire a few dozen feet beyond the most remote blanket, the dulcet tones of some musical instrument coming from somewhere nearby, so he walks, catching the eye first of Ronon, and then stands watching Sheppard play the Pegasus equivalent of a guitar. He pauses, watching John who has probably the most serious face that he's ever seen, and it's beautiful. He's used to seeing John's leadership face, his impish face, and even the desolate look when he's trying to tell Rodney that flying into oblivion is their only choice.
This look, eyes gazed down and head shaking slightly as whispered lyrics tumble from his lips and fingers gently dance over taut strings, producing a haunting melody, is almost hypnotic.
Rodney stands to the side, afraid to intrude on the intimate moment for fear that it will be lost forever. And within seconds, it is; John looks up, catching Rodney's eyes and immediately his fingers stop, the melody lost as the crackling of the fire overtakes as the dominant sound. "Oh, Rodney. Hey," John manages.
Before Rodney can say anything back, Ronon is at his feet. He clasps Rodney on the shoulder, then says, "Hey, save my spot, okay?" as he aims Rodney for the blanket, pushing him to sit down.
"No, no," Rodney blurts. "I mean, I don't want to interrupt." He chances a look at Sheppard, who he thinks holds a blush, which would be disturbing in itself. John Sheppard is the most confident man that Rodney has ever met, and has absolutely no reason to hold a blush that Rodney can think of.
"Sit," Ronon says, pushing Rodney with enough force to get him to acquiesce and sit on the blanket. "I'll be back in a bit." Before Ronon leaves, he says, "Hey, Sheppard. Keep playing."
"Naah," John starts as he pushes the guitar-like instrument to the side.
"Please?" Rodney asks before he realizes it. "I mean, I don't think I've ever really heard you play an instrument. And the only time I've heard you sing is when you - well, intentionally I still contend - practically brayed that Christmas carol the first year we were out here. I mean, I knew you had to have a good voice..." He chances a look at John, who slowly picks up the instrument, a conflicted look crossing his face.
Sighing, John finally says, "Okay," and then starts to strum out a melody. But just a few bars in, Rodney has to stop him.
"No, no, no... Can you play what you were playing for Ronon?" Rodney asks. At John's sheepish look, he asks, "I mean, if it's not too..." Intimate is the word that he wants to use, but he settles on, "personal." After returning to Pegasus with the Military's 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' policy thrown out the window, he was hoping that he might just be able to garner enough courage to see if John was interested in him, the way Rodney has been for years now. But the scene with Ronon... Well, Rodney wonders if he's lost his chance.
He watches as John takes a deep breath, then gives him a slow nod. John's fingers begin strumming against the strings, and a somewhat familiar melody - much slower than what he's got in his head, though the tune is still not familiar. It's not until John quietly starts singing the lyrics that he realizes it's Johnny Cash's "I Walk The Line," though John's rendition is slow, melodic, and almost haunting.
John gets a couple of choruses in, and dares a glance at Rodney who just smiles back at him. Rodney thinks that the smile emboldens John, because as he sings the next set of lyrics, the volume of John's voice increases ever so slightly, and he catches Rodney's eyes, as if the lyrics that fall from his lips mean so much more than just something from a song.
You've got a way to keep me on your side
You give me cause for love that I can't hide
For you I know I'd even try to turn the tide
Because you're mine, I walk the line...
"John?" Rodney says, not waiting for John to stop playing. He watches as the fire dances off of John's eyes, and John starts repeating the lyrics again, stopping only when Rodney reaches out and puts a tentative hand on John's knee.
The sudden loss of the music should be jarring, but the only thing Rodney notices is the look of desperation in John's eyes, glancing down at Rodney's hand, and then gazing into Rodney's own eyes, a look somewhere between desperation and hope dancing back at him. John slowly reaches down and covers Rodney's hand with his own. "Rodney..." he says, voice almost silent.
Leaning over, Rodney presses his forehead to John's and the pair hold there, neither wanting to move first. In the end, Rodney makes the first move, putting a hand to the back of John's neck, and slowly leaning forward until their lips touch. It's hesitant at first, as each man lets the nervousness bleed away, and then they give in to the moment. And it's magical.