naughtyAuthor: Nixa Jane
Rating: R
Category: Slash
Main Characters/Pairing: Ronon/John, Rodney/John.
Summary: Rodney really doesn't know how he manages to get caught up in these things.
Notes: The idea for this hit me from out of nowhere, and I just couldn't resist, so I pushed my way right past all my WIPs and started yet another. Also, Ronon will be in this fic, but is mostly just a victim of my evil devices and not in character at all. I haven't really seen him in the show yet, but he's imposing and pretty and so fit with my purposes. ;-)
Warnings: I'm skirting dangerously close to crack!fic, here.
Spoilers: Nope. This is crazy AU.
Rodney really doesn't know how he manages to get caught up in these things.
“This is a bad idea, Rodney.”
“What? Just because the guy could snap me like a twig I shouldn’t stand up for myself?” Rodney huffed. “Ha! I’ve dealt with bullies.”
“And what happened?” Zelenka asked, “When you did this dealing?”
“They beat me up and left me for dead,” Rodney snapped. “But I got everything I wanted in the end. Those losers were held back and I was pushed ahead into college.”
“Be that as it may,” Zelenka said patiently, “this is a little different. This bully has minions. And probably lots of guns. I told you we should not take this job, but did you listen?”
“Whatever!” Rodney snapped. “There’s no way we can design this new program in twenty-four hours, and our esteemed Mr. Dex is just going to have to get that through his thick skull.”
“And you really want to go to his house and talk with him?” Zelenka asked dubiously. “We could call, you know.”
“How could you even question my resolve?” Rodney snapped.
Zelenka looked past Rodney out the window. “Because we’ve been sitting in front of his house for forty minutes, and you keep asking me to talk you out of it.”
Rodney glared at him. “And what a wonderful job you’re doing of it, too. I still want to go give him what-for.”
“Its your funeral,” Zelenka said.
Rodney glared at him, and decided they were spending a bit too much time together. Zelenka was supposed to be the nice one. “Fine. I’m going then.”
“Have fun,” Zelenka told him cheerfully.
Rodney glared but shakily climbed from the car. He slammed the door with a little more force than necessary, and then glanced up at the large mansion. He didn’t know how Zelenka could have called it a house. It looked like a mix between beach house and a gothic castle. Not an easy combination to pull off, either, but it managed somehow.
He took a deep breath and walked up to the door. He knocked lightly and counted to three. “Guess no one’s home,” he said, and then spun on his heel.
He had three steps left to get off the porch when he heard the door swing open behind him.
“Can I help you, sir?”
He turned slowly, biting his lip. It was a tall man, in an impeccable suit. A butler, apparently. Rodney wasn’t aware people still had them. “No thank you,” he blurted. “I was just looking for Mr. Dex, but it’s really not all that important…”
“What’s not important?”
Rodney glanced up again at the new voice. It was slow, with a kind of lazy drawl to it, and sexy as hell. A young man leaned up against the doorway, wearing nothing but a low-slung white towel around his hips, and drawing a disapproving frown from the butler.
“Uh…” Rodney was sure that a PhD should have something more intelligent than that to say.
The man’s eyes were sparkling as he whispered something to the butler, who glared at Rodney but retreated. He crossed his arms as he watched Rodney intently. “Who are you, again?” he asked.
Rodney took a deep breath. “I didn’t actually say.”
He got a crooked grin in response to that. “Were you planning on it?” he asked.
Rodney reluctantly stepped back up onto the porch, and held out his hand. The man looked at it, and raised an eyebrow. He made no move to take it. He was still just wearing only a towel. This close, Rodney noticed he had rather perfect skin. “Rodney McKay,” he said. “And you?”
“Ronon’s boy toy,” the man said, wryly. “I’ve heard about you. Dex has nothing but pleasant things to say.”
Rodney was having trouble breathing. “Really?” he asked.
“No,” he said. “Not really. He can’t stand you.”
Rodney glared at him. “Listen, you…you boy toy, I’ll have you know, I’m likely the smartest man you’ll ever meet!”
He seemed unimpressed. “Did you have a reason for coming here?”
“Yes, actually,” Rodney snapped. “I’m here to tell off your boyfriend.”
The boy toy laughed. “That doesn’t sound like a good idea,” he said. “He sleeps with a rifle under his pillow.”
Rodney paled. “A rifle? Really? Not just some little tiny pistol?”
He nodded solemnly. “Nope. A rifle. A really big one. He almost shot the butler, once.”
Rodney gulped. “Is he…ah, is he here now?”
He shook his head. “He’s at the office. Should be back around three, though, if you wanted to come tell him off then.”
“Maybe I’ll just call,” Rodney said weakly.
He shrugged. “I could talk to him for you, if you wanted. What did he do to upset you, anyway?”
“He gave us twenty four hours to do something that can’t be done in twenty four days.”
The man smiled, and it was really rather charming. Rodney mentally slapped himself in the head. He shouldn’t think thoughts like that about his boss’s boy toy. “Well,” he said, “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Are you going to mention I was here?” Rodney asked nervously.
“Maybe I’ll just tell him someone made a call,” he said, slyly. “I’m not good with names, anyway. I’ve already forgotten yours.”
“Oh,” Rodney said, deflating. Then he narrowed his eyes. “You never told me yours,” he said. It wouldn’t due to continue thinking of him as the boy toy.
He smiled again, wide and bright. “John Sheppard,” he said, stepping back and starting to close the door. “You have a nice day now.”
It was only when he heard the lock click that Rodney started breathing again.
-----
Zelenka glanced at him when he got back in the car, shaking a little, and staring straight ahead.
“How did it go?” Zelenka asked.
“He was wearing a towel,” Rodney said. His voice was kind of squeaky, and a little more high-pitched than he would have liked.
Zelenka frowned. “Mr. Dex was wearing a towel?” he asked. “He doesn’t seem the type to answer the door in a towel.”
“No, no, not him! My god, would you keep up?” Rodney started the car, and slammed his foot down on the gas. “His boy toy. Boyfriend. Live-in sex kitten.”
“Ah,” Zelenka said, nodding. “You met John.”
Rodney swerved in the road, before quickly correcting himself. “John? How the hell do you know John?”
Zelenka smiled. “He came by the office once. You were passed out under one of the desks because you hadn’t been home for three days. He brought us coffee.”
“John the boy toy brought you coffee?” Rodney yelled. “And you didn’t tell me? I need to be prepared for something like that. I nearly had a heart attack just now.”
“It wasn’t that big of a deal, Rodney,” Zelenka said. “He just wanted to thank us for our hard work.”
“What does he care about our hard work?” Rodney snapped. “He’s a boy toy.”
“He also owns nearly half the company,” Zelenka said, and Rodney nearly drove straight off the road.
-----
The next day, Rodney was still recovering. “He really owns part of the company?”
Zelenka watched him shrewdly over the top of a pair of reading glasses. “Yes, Rodney. You seem a little fixated on this.”
“It just doesn’t make sense,” Rodney snapped. “What, did Mr. Dex give it to him so that he would sleep with him?”
“That’s rather cynical of you, Rodney,” Zelenka said. “John Sheppard was one of the original founders of the company. If you paid any attention the people you work for, you would know that.”
“But…he admitted it himself, he’s a boy toy!” Rodney yelled.
“Well I haven’t always been a boy toy.” Rodney froze, and looked up slowly. John was framed in another doorway, this time fully clothed, and just as gorgeous. John flashed a grin. “It’s just something I’m trying out.”
Rodney gulped. “I ah…was talking about another boy toy.”
John ignored him. “It’s kind of fun, actually. You might want to try it sometime, McKay. You look like you need to loosen up.”
“I thought you couldn’t remember my name,” Rodney said, half-heartedly.
John flashed him another grin. He seemed to do that a lot. “I lied. I make it a point to know the names of everyone working under me.”
Under him. Rodney tried to push away the mental images, but the towel kept popping up in his memory. “What are you even doing here?” Rodney snapped. If all else fails, snark. He learned that in first grade.
John shrugged, turning a computer monitor towards him and scanning it quickly before moving on, and ruffling through a stack of papers on the next desk over. “I got you your extension,” he said. “I’m also your new supervisor.”
“You’re what?” Rodney yelled. He had the strangest feeling that John Sheppard was far more dangerous than Ronon Dex. “Um, I mean, Mr. Dex was fine. A great supervisor.”
“He also said he’d take one of your eyes if you weren’t finished with your project today, didn’t he?” John asked casually. “You finished yet, McKay?”
Rodney sighed, and slammed his head on his desk. “No,” he mumbled.
John dropped down into an empty chair. “Better get used to me, then,” he said, and grinned.
Rodney whimpered a little pathetically, and turned to Zelenka for help. But Zelenka was no help. Zelenka was laughing.
John threw a black shoulder bag onto an empty desk and pulled out a stack of comics. “Don’t mind me,” he said. “Just pretend I’m not here.”
“That would be easier to do if you weren’t here,” Rodney snapped.
John seemed unfazed. “Did I mention you have a week?”
“A week?” Rodney snapped. “For what?”
“To finish the project,” John said, popping a piece of blue Bubble Yum in his mouth.
Rodney sputtered indignantly. “What? I told you it would take nearly a month!”
“Which in scientist speak is a week,” John said. “I’d get working, if I were you.”
Rodney glared at him, and had just opened his mouth to say something potentially career-damaging when Zelenka latched onto him and dragged him back to his station. John gave a little finger wave and blew a huge blue bubble as they rounded the corner.
-----
“This is horrible,” Rodney said. “This is like the worst thing that’s happened to me ever.”
Zelenka nodded, trying to be supportive, but said, “We have work to do, Rodney.”
”Yes, yes,” Rodney said, waving him off. “I know. We mustn’t disappoint the boy toy.”
“I can still hear you,” John called from the lab next door.
Rodney winced. “This is horrible,” he said again, but quieter.
Zelenka rolled his eyes. “He’s a much better supervisor than Mr. Dex,” he said. “No threats.”
“Oh, no,” Rodney hissed. “He just wanders in looking all GQ and bats his eyelashes at us. That’s so much better.”
“He did not bat his eyelashes,” Zelenka whispered, exasperated.
“There was a definite batting of eyelashes going on,” Rodney snapped. “And did you see the way he draped himself down over the chair? It should be illegal.”
“We have to work, Rodney,” Zelenka said, trying to regain his attention again.
“How can I work knowing he’s in the next room?” Rodney snapped. “All hey, look at me, I’m a boy toy and untouchable.”
“You should really stop calling him a boy toy,” Zelenka said.
Rodney crossed his arms., ignoring him “Who still chews Bubble Yum, anyway?” he snapped.
Zelenka gave up.
-----
This time when Rodney marched up the steps to the mansion door, he was determined, prepared, and ready to get what he wanted at any cost. Mainly, for John to not be his supervisor anymore. He couldn’t focus when John was around, which was, of course, entirely John’s fault.
He pounded on the door, ready to greet the butler and demand to see Mr. Dex, and entirely unprepared for a barefoot John to open the door in nothing but a pair of loose black sweatpants. “Oh, hey, Rodney,” he said, and smiled. “What are you doing here? Come to ask for another extension?”
Rodney glared. “I thought you were still at work!” he yelled.
“I locked the door and climbed out the window,” John said, shrugging. “I was bored.”
“Oh dear god,” Rodney snapped. “You’re such a child.”
“Wow,” John said. “That means like…nothing, coming from you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean!?” Rodney yelled.
“It’s supposed to mean that you’re a child,” John said. “You spend your entire day checking me out, and then blaming me for your interest. It’s really kind of pathetic.”
“Are you actually calling me pathetic?” Rodney snapped. “You’re a thirty-something boy toy!”
“I also own nearly half the shares in a multi-million dollar company and my own yacht.” John smirked. “So, you’re here because…?”
“I want another supervisor,” Rodney snapped. “I can’t work with you, I just can’t.”
John nodded. “Because you’re attracted to me,” he said. “I understand, but you’re just going to have to deal with it.”
Rodney gaped at him. “You…you…”
“For someone as mean as you can be,” John said, “you would think you’d be better at coming up with insults.”
Rodney pushed past him into the house. “Where’s Mr. Dex?” he demanded. “I want to see him.”
“He’s in New York for the weekend,” John said. “I’m afraid you’re still stuck with me.”
“This is intolerable,” Rodney said. “I can’t focus on my work! I need to be in an environment where I can focus on my work!”
“Wow, I’m really under your skin, aren’t I?” John seemed rather pleased with the possibility.
Rodney was outraged. “It’s so not even about you,” he snapped.
“I think it’s about me a little,” John said, moving into Rodney’s personal space. “You really need a way to release your tension.”
“I’ve got a nature sounds tape,” Rodney said, primly. “Except it doesn’t work. I hate nature.”
“I kind of meant sex,” John said, smiling lop-sided.
Rodney rolled his eyes. “I should have known. Well, I’m sorry if not all of us can go off and be boy toys just to see what it’s like.”
John hooked a finger in the neck of Rodney’s shirt and tugged him closer, before kissing him hotly. Rodney pushed away breathlessly.
“What the hell was that?” he sputtered.
John looked pleased with himself again. “You’ve been wondering what it’s like,” he said. “Now you know.”
“I—“ Rodney started, but he was losing his footing.
John pressed up against him again, kissing his neck and sending them crashing against the wall.
“I can’t do this,” Rodney said, desperately, but making no move to stop it. “You’re my boss’s boyfriend.”
“Ronon likes to share,” John said, pure innocence personified, before starting to nibble on Rodney’s ear.
Rodney was incredulous. “No, he doesn’t.”
John shrugged, and tried a different tact. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him?”
Rodney paused, looking into John’s sparkling eyes, thought about how long it had been and about the chances of ever having something like this happen again. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll buy that.”
Then he tackled him, and sent them both the floor.