"John moved his fingers and identified the feel of Rodney’s hand holding his. That was—nice. Unusual, but nice. John hoped he hadn’t died again or something. That always pissed Rodney off. He got very cranky about things like that."
— Better With the Lights On by AnneZo
"
Their chests rose and lowered together, their hearts still beating. Rodney’s short hair was light and exquisite as it tickled his chest, and Sheppard closed his eyes and felt himself relax for what felt like the first time in weeks - years, even.
Still: “For the record, this isn’t cuddling, McKay.”
“The evidence suggests the contrary.”
Sheppard shifted just enough to lightly slap him upside the head.
“Ow!” Rodney protested. “Fine, fine, it’s - somatic interaction of a physical, contiguous nature.”
John thwapped him again.
"— Fractures by afletcherfox.
"
John woke to sunlight, heat, and something heavy on his chest. He muttered and tried to roll away from the light, but the heavy pressure pinned him down, burying him in something warm and soft.
“What the hell,” he muttered, shoving at the solid lump lying on top of him. Rodney grunted and rolled off, taking most of the blankets with him.
John sat up, looked around, and blinked several times. “Oh,” he said quietly. Right.
"— Environmental Controls by Kalimyre
"
Just before his people came for him, there was a moment when John felt clear about his life for the first time in a while. Teer had been smiling sedately at her brother and talking about dissipating from one plane to another and letting go all burdens. John had remembered Rodney’s hands going snap snap snap, dismissing and entreating; Rodney’s blue eyes and quick mouth. Rodney who loves food and coffee and soft shirts. He’s losing his hair. He cradles his computer tablet like a wound. He has a bright, awkward smile.
Those people in the cloister thought they could be pure energy and still experience thunderstorms, but they’ll never find out what it’s like to stand in the downpour.
"— Downpour by orphan_account
"
On the other side of the scale, there’s Rodney. Difficult, diamond-bright brilliant, bulldog-loyal Rodney McKay, who never fails to save the day – to save John, and incidentally everyone else – always to an soundtrack of ego and bluster and frightened whining.
Double-Doctor McKay, who has the best and the brightest of the Earth as his terrorized also-rans, and who takes shit from John Sheppard like it’s his job.
John probably has more than he wants to think about in common with the people he’s pretty sure fucked with Rodney back in high school. He rarely resists the urge to mess with the man himself. He likes to think of it as a public service to keep the McKay ego under control. Besides, Rodney gets it. It’s just their thing.
All the same, Rodney – privately, because it’s not the sort of thing you want to admit in front of marines – had become something like his personal lodestar, something he can use as a beacon and still pretend to be winging it home.
"— Do not hide, see the view by that_which.
Someone please post some McShep…I needs some cheering up!!!!
The Pegasus Device by liketheriverrun (Detective John Sheppard and criminologist Dr. Rodney McKay thought they were just investigating another murder that rainy,Seattle night in 1940. They couldn’t have been farther from the truth)
(Source: mentally-unstable-like-a-fox)
"
He tells himself he shouldn’t be all that surprised. After all, he’s been crazy in love with Atlantis since he first stepped through the event horizon and found the city waiting for him, waking for him, and Rodney has already saved it more times than John can count; John’s no psychiatrist, but he knows enough about human nature to recognize transference when he sees it.
But it’s more than that, more than gratitude, more than respect; his feelings for McKay are tied, inextricably, into the city itself, one exists in tandem with the existence of the other, just as he himself exists for both of them, now.
"— Home by Callmerizzo
"
“Ah, Jesus. Another Canadian?!” John looked up at the sky in despair, wondering just how many puppies he raped in a past life to deserve this. “Please tell me you can actually, y’know, read and count. I’ve heard that helps if you don’t want to screw over innocent bystanders.”
“Excuse me?!” McKay erupted stopping in the middle of the sidewalk to raise his hand and point agitatedly at John. “I’ll have you know I’m quite probably the smartest man you’ll ever meet. I have an IQ over 180, two doctorates and more respect than you’ll ever manage to get if the entire Academy loses its collective marbles and awards you some shiny bauble of ‘achievement’.”
John held his hands up defensively.
Two bleeding stumps where his hands used to be, and one leg gnawed clean off.
— Taxed Return by runaroundkid.
"The universe wasn’t magic; magic was a substance, like fire or water. It was abundant and incredibly powerful and could be manipulated with the correct application of knowledge and will. But if you didn’t use it properly, you’d be immolated or drowned. Or worse: other people would be, and you’d be forced to watch it happening. That was why it terrified him to see the casual, unthinking way Teyla and Carson used magic, because he knew that someday they’d be forced to pay for what they’d taken. Every wizard would, sooner or later. It was the first thing mages ever learned, and Rodney had lived it."
"
A lot of things bothered him, like the constant pain alternating with drugged, woozy fugues, and the fact he needed help with basic bodily functions, and McKay’s strangely aggressive mother-henning, and McKay’s rambling monologues, and McKay’s noisy eating habits, and… quite a lot about McKay, actually. He wasn’t the first guy John would’ve chosen to be cooped up with in hostile territory, and McKay was obviously not into playing Florence Nightingale for John.
So why had he rescued him in the first place?
"—
Tongues of Men and Angels by mad_maudlin
The two things I like best in Stargate franchise, Tok’Ra and John/Rodney banter, combined in one awesome action-adventure/friendship/romance fic.
