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"We are all going to die."
Rodney looked up from his laptop in annoyance and glared across the almost empty laboratory to where Kavanagh fussed with a broken 9mm handgun. The man was not a weapons expert but everyone had to step outside of their discipline at times like this. Of course Kavanagh had made a big fuss--as usual--until Sheppard casually mentioned that it was Kavanagh's gun for when the wraith reached Atlantis...
Your choice, Kavanagh. You can either fix it or use it as a club...but I can't spare you another.
Rodney smirked in remembrance, recalling the patented Sheppard easy stance, leaning against the laboratory wall with arms folded. They both knew that Kavanagh was well up to the job of repairing the broken spring release on the handgun but Kavanagh had whined his response.
Give it to McKay. He can fix anything...or so he brags.
McKay already has a gun, came the quick yet almost lazily drawn reply.
Rodney's fingers had drifted to the gun holstered at his side, a permanent fixture since returning from the La Grange point satellite, recalling the number of times he had used this gun in anger. Far too many times for an astrophysicist, he thought, but as he had so rightly determined earlier, everyone had to step outside of their discipline at times like this. Better to have a gun and know how to use it for when the wraith arrived than to just hide in a corner and wait to be eaten. At the very least he could try and take some of the wraith with him.
I don't even know how to fire the damn thing, Kavanagh had retorted in anger, and I shouldn't need to learn. It's your job to protect me.
Sheppard's eyes narrowed. I've seen your record, Kavanagh, so don't give me that shit.
Rodney almost chortled aloud at the thunder and embarrassment on Kavanagh's face for both he and Sheppard knew that Kavanagh had a handgun license according to his record. It had made a change for someone else to be on the other end of a Sheppard steely-eyed gaze. Luckily, Kavanagh had the sense to know when he was beaten--for once. Rodney had smirked again as Sheppard pushed away from the wall, casting a sickly sweet smile in Kavanagh's direction, and a smug one in Rodney's before breezing out...
"We are all going to die," Kavanagh stated again, drawing Rodney's thoughts back to the present.
"Don't count us out yet."
"Oh, and when did Dr. Doom become the voice of optimism?"
Rodney rolled his eyes and turned on his stool to face the man who had been a major thorn in his side since long before they reached the Pegasus galaxy. Why Elizabeth had agreed to Kavanagh joining the expedition was a mystery to them all. When Rodney was offered the position of Chief Scientific Advisor for the Atlantis expedition, he had been overjoyed and, for the greater part, he loved the extra responsibility that meant he utilized far more of his mind. What he could have done without, though, was the petty squabbling and the frequent personnel problems that often started with the word Kavanagh.
Admittedly, the man was no slouch within his specialism, though others like Simpson were better, but his attitude to other members of the expedition made Rodney's social interaction skills look positively glowing. For all Rodney's faults--and he was astute enough to recognize he had faults even if he would admit to none--he was a virtual charmer compared to Kavanagh. Rodney had never seen any compassion in Kavanagh or heard any praise fall from the man's lips for others, even when they worked tirelessly to salvage his projects or save his ass. All the man ever did was whine and moan, and then whine and moan some more for good measure. Every mistake was someone else's fault. He hated everything about the city, seeing no wonder in its architecture or in the beauty of the intricate devices they found. He hated his accommodation but spent all his off duty hours in there; hated the food but often took more than his fair share, moaning around each mouthful until no one was willing to sit with him any longer. He ridiculed attempts at team building and took great delight in snubbing or belittling anyone who tried to assist him in his work unless they were willing to let him take all the credit for the end product.
He considered Kavanagh's remark for another split second.
"Hardly optimism but we destroyed one hive ship, we have reinforcements from the SGC setting up rail guns as we speak, and we have a ZedPM en route onboard the Daedalus, which is less than four days away. I may be wrong...highly unlikely, I'll admit," he gave a breathy laugh, "but that counts towards a little hope in my book."
"We are all going to die," Kavanagh stated again, more firmly. "That overgrown Boy Scout that came through from the SGC doesn't have a clue...and you said so yourself. Not that Sheppard is any better. If it wasn't for him and for Weir's inability to command her way out of a paper bag then none of us would be in this mess in the first place."
Rodney gritted his teeth, his lips tightening in anger. There had been occasions when he disagreed with the way Elizabeth and Sheppard handled events but the expedition was still here, and that had to count for something. He decided to curb his growing temper, knowing from past encounters that it was a complete waste of time trying to reason with Kavanagh. The man had his opinions on the leadership of Atlantis and neither heaven nor earth was going to move him from them. Rodney could only be amazed that Kavanagh had not grouped him in with Sheppard and Elizabeth as a liability, though Kavanagh had precious little of good to say about Simpson and even Zelenka, let alone anyone even lower on the science food chain.
Yet of all of them here, Rodney thought Kavanagh would hate him the most because he believed that he should have been offered the post of Chief Scientific Advisor but, instead, he and Kavanagh had come to a sort of truce over the past months. They interacted as little as possible, and that suited Rodney just fine.
"We are going to die in this long dead city and I, for one, would at least have liked to go knowing I'd had sex in another galaxy."
Rodney blinked rapidly in stunned shock, frowning as his mind replayed those words and finding them incredibly creepy coming from Kavanagh. The man had never offered up any personal information before and, to be truthful, that statement came under TMI, too much information as far as Rodney was concerned. He decided to ignore it but Kavanagh carried on despite a lack of response.
"One of those Athosians perhaps. Promised I'd take one of the morons on this expedition only out of sheer desperation." He stared straight at Rodney. "And this falls under the title of desperate times."
Rodney raised both eyebrows, unable to stop the contempt from finding its way into his voice. "You haven't exactly made yourself approachable."
"And you're doing any better?" Kavanagh sneered. "Yeah, like you've had a queue lined up in either galaxy."
Rodney smarted at the comment, recalling all the near misses and the remarkably few hits during his lifetime. Even working both sides of the gender issue had never given him great results. Work and study had always got in the way, and an infatuation with the impossible like Samantha Carter, leaving him little time to work on the social graces that led to a decent sex life. Not that he was a virgin with either sex but, in truth, it had been over three years since he'd had a hand on his dick that wasn't his own.
"We are both going to die over the next few days, sucked dry by the wraith." Kavanagh emphasized harshly before shaking his head. "And I can't even get a mercy fuck out of you."
Rodney looked over with incredulity. "Why would I have sex with you? First, you are so not my type and second, I don't even like you."
Kavanagh raised his eyebrows. "Oh, come on. My gaydar started pinging the moment we met." Rodney back up a little as Kavanagh walked over, getting right into his personal space as he leaned in, hands to either side of Rodney on the bench behind him and his hot breath on Rodney's face. "And I want to fuck you not date you."
Rodney swallowed nervously, still shocked by the revelation as Kavanagh's eyes narrowed. Kavanagh pulled back with a sneer of derision. "If you're waiting for flyboy to get a clue then you'll be a dried out husk before that happens."
He moved back to his bench and picked up the handgun, turning it over in his hands and playing with the safety.
"Hope that's not loaded."
"Don't worry, McKay. Sheppard was right about one thing. I do know my way around guns." He stopped fiddling with the gun and looked to Rodney again. "You know you want it. A cock up your ass one last time before its goodbye Pegasus, goodbye Atlantis...goodbye Rodney."
Part of Rodney wanted to tell Kavanagh to go fuck himself, wanted to tell the arrogant bastard that he would be the last person Rodney would willingly choose to fuck in two galaxies but Kavanagh was right. He did want to feel another man's touch before he died, wanted to feel his body filled and possessed with stroke after stroke hitting his prostate, sending him where no woman had ever taken him before, and very few men if he was to be brutally honest. Three years in Siberia, Antarctica, and then Atlantis had left him bereft of human touch and if his life was to end over these next few days then he would die with bitter regret if he did not at least consider Kavanagh's offer. He thought about Sheppard but the man had never shown any interest in him or in any of the other men on the expedition.
"I still have a few shots of Crown Royal left," Kavanagh stated slyly.
"Really?"
Rodney perked up at that. Decent whiskey, especially Canadian whiskey, was one of the first supplies to run out on Atlantis and he snorted softly, unsurprised that Kavanagh should be the one to have some left. He was not exactly the sharing type after all.
Kavanagh placed the handgun in its holster and glanced sideways at Rodney.
"I'm going to get in a few hours sleep...unless you're interested in getting fucked."
With Kavanagh it would be just that. Meaningless sex. There would be no pillow talk before and no cuddling afterwards. Rodney would take just one last life-affirming quick fuck and then head back here to carry on with computing the power ratios for coupling the new model Naquadah generator to the Chair. The tiny smirk on Kavanagh's face almost made him change his mind but he closed the lid on his laptop, leaving it to go into hibernation, and stood up, following Kavanagh out of the laboratory and along the hallway towards the nearest transporter. Within minutes, Rodney was standing just inside Kavanagh's room.
"Make yourself useful with the gene and lock the door," Kavanagh stated without any trace of the usual rancor that accompanied such a statement from him. He had been inordinately jealous when Rodney reacted positively to Beckett's gene therapy while he had not, seeing it as another unwanted affirmation that Rodney had been the correct choice for scientific leader. While Kavanagh grabbed two glasses and the almost empty bottle of Crown Royal, Rodney sent a thought towards the door, feeling the shift that told him it had locked before stepping forward to take the filled glass. He took a sip, letting the alcohol tingle against his lips and tongue before swallowing. The smooth, mellow taste flowed over him, burning as it slid down his throat. He wanted to savor the next sip too but Kavanagh seemed impatient for more than social drinking, knocking back his glass with one swallow and then watching Rodney carefully through narrowed eyes. Rodney tipped back the glass, swirling the liquid around his mouth before swallowing, eyes closed as he wondered if he was doing the right thing but he snapped them open when he felt the glass taken from his fingers.
"Right," he sighed, quickly arresting the flinch as Kavanagh leaned in and pressed his mouth over Rodney's, his demanding tongue pressing inwards as if to capture any errant droplets of the whiskey. Fingers fumbled with the Velcro fastenings of the holster's webbing wrapped around Rodney's thigh, dropping the gun and holster just out of reach before starting on his pants. Kavanagh pulled them open, working them down Rodney's legs until they fell to the ground at his feet. One of Kavanagh's hands slid beneath the waistband of Rodney's boxers to grope his ass while the other hand cupped his half-hard erection through the thin material. The pressure and friction of Kavanagh's palm brought Rodney to full hardness and he moaned into the still demanding kiss.
Kavanagh pulled back abruptly, both hands reaching for the waistband of Rodney's boxers this time, and tugging them down over his hips and ass, not stopping until they were bunched around his ankles. Without further preamble, Rodney was turned and his shoulders pressed to the bed. Kavanagh did not seem to care that Rodney's legs were still entangled in his pants and boxers, forcing him to spread his knees wide as blunt fingers, slicked with lubricant were pushed inside his body. He gasped against the painful intrusion, his body not remembering the sensation until one hooked finger scraped over that sensitive spot, dragging across his prostate and sending a spark of pure pleasure through him. He saw stars dancing before his eyes as Kavanagh stroked him over and over, whimpering when one finger became two, then three...and then none.
Breathing harshly, Rodney waited as Kavanagh positioned himself behind him, one hot hand pulling his asscheeks apart to expose the loosened hole. His breath caught in his throat as Kavanagh pushed in, the thicker bulk of his cock stretching muscle beyond what was comfortable, edging over into pain as he thrust in relentlessly, not stopping until Rodney could feel the wiry hairs of Kavanagh's groin pressed tight against his ass.
"Fuck...but your tight, McKay. Been a while, has it?"
"Just get on with it," he growled back, breath catching again as Kavanagh pulled out almost all the way before thrusting back in, harder and deeper, sending shockwaves of pain and pleasure racing through Rodney.
One hand curled over Rodney's hip, steadying him as Kavanagh found a strong rhythm, while the other wrapped around Rodney's hard flesh, stroking him in counterpoint until the pleasure became too intense, tearing through him as he came hard in Kavanagh's hand, muscles tensing. As if from a great distance, he heard Kavanagh groan, the deep thrusts becoming shorter, less controlled jabs until Kavanagh froze momentarily, fingers digging into Rodney's hip with bruising strength as scalding liquid filled Rodney's ass. A few frantic thrusts later, Kavanagh collapsed heavily across Rodney's back, his breath hot and ragged on the nape of Rodney's neck. Rodney gave him a moment and then shrugged hard, making his discomfort known and rolling his aching shoulders when Kavanagh pushed up and off him, pulling out of his sore ass. He felt the bed sway as Kavanagh got up and walked away and flinched when he felt something warm, wet and soft drop onto his still splayed hand.
"You can clean yourself up and go."
Rodney grimaced as he looked across at Kavanagh but neither of them had agreed to anything more than this, and from the disinterested look on Kavanagh's face, no additional emotion or thanks were required. They had both got what they wanted out of this encounter even though Rodney would have wished for far more if Kavanagh had been someone else, anyone else. Struggling upright, he pulled up his boxers and pants before reaching for the holster and strapping it back on tightly. Rodney paused by the door, thinking it unlocked but not commanding it to open.
"I still don't like you but...for what it's worth--"
"Spare me the platitudes, McKay. You wanted to be fucked."
"Right."
The door slid open easily on Rodney's command and he stepped out into the empty hallway, not bothering to look back as he hurried away. The wraith were on their way and he only had a finite amount of time to get the Chair working.
**--**
Four Days Later:
"So! This is how it's gonna be, huh?! Just me?!" Another of the heavy-set wraith guards came up behind the first, aiming its stunner at Rodney. "Okay! That's just fine! You want some of this, huh?! Huh?!"
He had pulled the handgun and raised it, ready to send every bullet into his targets. For some reason that Carson had yet to fully explain, the thickly muscled guards were a lot easier to kill than their slighter but obviously more intelligent counterparts. Rodney knew that if one of them had been in front of him then he would not have stood a chance. As he pulled on the trigger, his eyes widened in shock as the spring release engaged and the clip dropped to the floor at Rodney's feet, scattering unused bullets. He looked at the gun in disbelief and did the only thing he could think of; Rodney dropped the gun and dived for cover, simultaneously crying out for help.
"This is McKay! I'm in trouble down here!"
Part of him did not expect to be rescued, his life flashing before his eyes as he waited for the two wraith guards to move in for the kill but the sound of a P90 rent the air. When he peeked over the top of the flimsy crate, he half expected to see one of his security escorts staggering to his feet having been only partially stunned but, instead, Teyla rushed into the room, dodging around the dead wraith.
"I thought I was gonna--"
"I thought you were very brave."
"Really?!"
Some of the terrible fear left him and he picked up the previously discarded box containing the ZedPM, hoping she did not think any less of his bravery when he asked her to lead the way. However, as she was the only one armed, it made sense for her to go first.
Hours later, when the worst of the first battle was over, Rodney sat in the corner of his laboratory shaking so badly that he could barely hit the right keys on his laptop. The two marines in the security detail were among some of the lucky ones who had been stunned for later collection rather than for immediate consumption by the wraith. They had awoken in the overfilled corridor outside the infirmary along with dozens more who had fallen to the stun weapons. The dead were stored in a makeshift morgue, most of them no longer recognizable as the young, full of life people that Rodney had known in passing acquaintance, and he swallowed hard at the realization that only pure luck had kept him from becoming one of those horrifically aged husks.
**--**
Days later, with the siege over and sixteen hours of uninterrupted sleep behind him, Rodney was called to the room that Sheppard used as his military command post when on Atlantis. His first thought was to tell Sheppard he was busy, which was the truth, but Sheppard had that tone of voice, the one that warned he was not into playing games today. Not that it had stopped Rodney from saying, No, before but with Caldwell sniffing around looking for any excuse to take control of the Atlantis military, Rodney decided to show a little respect.
However, when he stepped inside, Rodney saw the anger seething on Sheppard's face and wished he had stayed well away. The hazel eyes were dark and menacing, his lips so tight that they were a pale scar slashed across his lower face. Sheppard held his body rigid with every muscle tensed, his hands curled into fists, the knuckles white. His eyes flicked to the desk top and Rodney dropped his eyes, seeing the 9mm handgun and the full clip lying on the desk between them, and he swallowed hard. Despite the tension in Sheppard's body, his voice was deceptively soft.
"One of my men found this on the floor close to the ZPM room, with two stunned marines and several dead wraith."
Rodney glanced away nervously. He had hoped Sheppard would not find out about the gun and how he had accidentally ejected the clip as he prepared to fire upon the two wraith guards. Hardly had he believed it himself at the time, having spent hours practicing with both the 9mm and the P90 that Sheppard insisted he carry in case they met up with the wraith on an offworld mission. Making such a fundamental error made him a liability and, as he waited for full extent of Sheppard's wrath, he half expected Sheppard to tell him he was off his team.
"I--"
"You gave him your gun...but you didn't take the time to fix this one."
Rodney looked back and frowned. "What?"
"Kavanagh." The name was stated through gritted teeth.
Rodney felt lightheaded with shock, dropping to the seat positioned on his side of Shepard's desk, shaking his head in disbelief. He saw Sheppard's brow furl, his lips no longer the angry dash across his handsome face.
"You didn't know." He leaned forward over the desk top, his anger darkening to fury. "Bastard did a switch on you."
Rodney looked away, knowing exactly when and where that had happened, as he lay with his ass in the air being fucked across Kavanagh's bed. You wanted to be fucked, Kavanagh had said, and he was--well and truly fucked the moment he desperately needed that gun to save his life.
"I--" Rodney closed his eyes in acute distress.
"Leave it to me, Rodney." The words were terse and terrifyingly soft, almost inaudible but Rodney heard the menace behind them that did not bode well for Kavanagh.
Kavanagh, he thought in shock, opening his eyes fearfully; not wanting Sheppard to discover the truth. "No. I'll...deal with this."
"No. This comes under my jurisdiction, not yours."
Two days later, no one questioned Kavanagh's sudden decision to leave Atlantis onboard the Daedalus, being too relieved to finally see the back of a man who had made no effort to belong in the city of the ancients. Only two people knew what had prompted him to make the request direct to Caldwell and Rodney had felt the chill between him and Sheppard since then. Neither of them talked about it but it was very obvious to Rodney that Kavanagh had not kept his tryst with Rodney a secret.
All Rodney could hope was that, in time, Sheppard would forgive him for his momentary weakness.
THE END