Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate Atlantis or any of its characters. Do you THINK I would be here if I did?! So I do not, in any way shape or form own any of the plot or the characters. They belong to whoever owns 'em. I just took the general idea for a test jaunt. So, don't sue me...not that it would be beneficial, as I am a poor university student, yadda yadda yadda.

Warnings: This is a Mckay and Sheppard slash story, boys and girls. Thus, here be smut and man-on-man goodness. If that's not your style, well then, toodles! (And yes, there will eventually be smut...at some point...traditionally it takes awhile for me to get there).

Authors Note: Please read and review. I am excited to see what you all think. I am open to comments, advice, and constructive criticism.

*I started writing this chapter with a bunch of realllllly good intentions about 3 seconds after I officially finished the last one. I am trying to stay on a roll now as the end of this story appears to be FINALLY approaching! Hopefully the wait wasn't as bad as the last one!

Okay...so don't shoot me..buttttt....I KNOW I maybe, kinda, possibly PROMISED that there would be a whole lack of pants in this chapter...but apparently my muse is out to give everyone (including JOHN) a stroke. Next chapter. Promise! ( ducks flying objects ) I made this chapter longer then usual so I wouldn't have a revolt on my hands. So play nice children.

Why Astrophysicists shouldn't wear Leather Pants – Part Nine

Like a bright neon orange, finger-snapping spark hovering over him...

The world abruptly tilted for what had to be the third or fourth time that night as Rodney's big, absurdly dexterous hands curled around the underside of his shoulders using his bulk and bigger bones to shove him backwards again, the heat from the other mans hips seeping right into his skin despite their joined layers of clothing.

And really, just when had Rodney turned into the Venus fly trap of hotness and raging testosterone anyway?

It was ridiculous. They had made it out of the Ancient closet...or whatever the hell that place had been, and here they were, two grown men still making out like a couple of teenagers, demolishing his quarters to boot. It reminded him so much of high school that if his lips hadn't been otherwise engaged he might have spared up a second and laughed.

Apparently there was some shit that you NEVER got too old for.

The impact was jarring and almost brutal, sending him reeling across the blue-tinged wall, his limbs limp, unable to regain his footing, a situation not helped by the fact that somewhere in between the destruction of what he seriously hoped had not been his Johnny Cash poster and their third impact with various bits of furniture Rodney had tangled his legs in between his, creating such a sudden thrill of delicious friction that he almost forgot to care that the majority of his weight was now actually being suspended in mid-air in between the wall and Rodney's surprisingly strong grip.

Because apparently, Rodney's thighs were Superman strong for an ACTUAL reason. And well... wasn't that just a mental image...

But he didn't even have a chance to even think about sliding down the wall because suddenly, and entirely without warning, Rodney had enveloped him again, his big arms simply scooping him into the curve of his body and pitching them forwards. Because apparently, just because Rodney rarely used his built-for-football shoulders, and had all subtlety of a rampaging herd of very pissed off rhino's on crack, didn't necessarily mean that he wouldn't actually use both those things to his full advantage every once and while.

Which by the way, was something that as a highly trained military man, with years of combat training under his belt, and who was in no way used to being repeatedly yanked and yarded around like he was some sort of twelve year old princess, really had no right to be as hot as it actually was...

But before he could even attempt to think about salvaging his slightly bruised, manly dignity, his world abruptly did this roaring, tunnel vision sort of thing, and after a long moment of weightlessness he crashed to a stop, ass over tea kettle, hanging half off, and yet somehow at the same time, entirely sideways across his own bed, with Rodney mere seconds behind, flopping unceremoniously on top of him, pushing whatever breath he still had left in his lungs whooshing out in a loud grunt as the bigger mans weight settled atop him.

And in hindsight, he really should have figured that Rodney would be as big of a boss in the bedroom as he was everywhere else in life.

He had about fifteen seconds to just enjoy the view, staring up into what he figured was probably a mirror image of his own facial expression. Rodney looked one quarter sexually wrecked, all flushed, love-bitten, and blown pupils, with another quarter stuck somewhere in between disbelief and shock, as if he still couldn't quite believe what he was seeing, that they were actually here, that after years of fast friendship and thinly veiled mutual attraction they were finally..finally doing this.

The barely contained look of shock and surprise on the face hovering above him would have been almost comical if it had been any other time or situation, because now those emotions stood out stark across Rodney's face, still unsure, still barely believing it all...despite having made out in what was likely the Ancients version of a linen closet for the past half an hour like a couple of lusty, hormone driven teenagers.

There was more there, more emotions teeming across that all too familiar face, it was a literal whirlwind of ever changing expression. But for those first few seconds, he could literally see everything as it came to the man mind, seeing everything he was feeling, every emotion laid bare across his face.

It was frightening, and intimate, and even more soul-quivering uncertain now because he knew he could no longer stop the same from being shown upon his own face. It was as if the years he had spent carefully guarding, and holding in his own emotions and feelings counted for jack in the end. Counting for nothing now as he was so easily broken by a man that only a few years ago had merely been one bright neon spark looming above him, his wide fingers snapping in the air above him as an entire universe had opened up in his mind, and he had watched an entire galaxy orbit above him, for him...because of him, his blood singing, and his heart thudding in his throat.

There was confusion there, he saw it lying half hidden in the furrows that now marred the normally smooth section between the mans nose and eyebrows. Uncertainty was thinly slathered over the corners of his all too expressive lips, tweaking at the muscles of his cheeks until the curve of his face seemed to slant the slightest bit downward.

But here was also desire, oh lord was there desire.. boldly tumbling from the heightened blue of his eyes, flushing down and twitching his full kiss-bitten lips. It was expressed there in so many degrees that he felt drunk with it, dizzy, and stupid.

There was naked want, a need that went so deep that it surpassed the more instinctive, primal instincts that screamed to just rut against a willing stretch of flesh, but instead this...this feeling left them both shuddering, and almost whimpering with it, as if something unequivocally monumentous was occurring between them and there was no real way to express it.

And maybe there was...because he had never felt this way before, before Rodney...it had never been like this, it had never been this real, there had never been this intense burst of..of...whatever the hell it was that was making him feel the same high he had only ever got when he was in the cockpit, pulling just a few more G's then was technically advisable, yelling and whooping like all kinds of an asshole as the trainee in the backseat was torn between crapping himself and painting the back of the cockpit with his partially digested lunch. It was dangerous, the kind of dangerous that had you biting a hole through your own tongue, half expecting to hit a rouge gust and swing off course, imploding into splinters of metal, bone, and flesh before you had half a second to even realize you were fucked, and yet at the same time it was just that kind of ..alive.. that made everything else in life matter, it sent thrills through him that went bone deep and made you want to just throw back your head and yell for the sheer insane joy of it all.

But what was almost even better, better then the lust, and desire...was that he saw the hope for something more flash across that snarky mans face, snapping across his features like a released elastic band, before it was protectively stowed away, hidden behind the last shreds of that mask..

And he had to wonder...what this finally what love really was? Was this..this thing he felt beating inside him like a second heart, singing through his brain and blood, and thrumming through his mind, and trickling through his very skin, love? Could it be?..It had to be, he doubted he had ever...felt this much in all his life. In fact he felt so much right now he was pretty sure there was going to be a heart attack in his near future, and yet he could care less, as long as he could feel this, feel this thing for even one more minute longer..

He did..He loved Rodney. He loved that sarcastic, irritable, fast-talking, genius son of a bitch so much that it hurt.

And it was with that last little soul baring emotion that he tried to give Rodney that assurance, tried to let him know in a way that surpassed words that this, that what they had right here, right now, looking up at each other right this second was far more then just a lusty, leather educed romp in a slightly musty, 10,000 year old version of an Ancient laundry hamper.

So he threw caution and hesitancy out the metaphorical window, jerking and twisting under the other man until in one, not so swift movement, where there was some serious limb-tangling, and possibly a knee or elbow inserted into places where a knee and elbow should never, ever go, he somehow managed not to send them tumbling off the bed completely as he abruptly flipped them over until they thudded to an ungraceful halt and he was splayed, spread out like a human star fish over the other man, feet hooked under the mattress and arm muscles quivering with the sheer effort of it all.

Now he was the one straddling the shell-shocked scientist, looking down at him from his perch over the mans own hips, the press of his flesh deliciously new from his new position above him, feeling that familiar fission lower in his belly, his breath coming out in a surprised hiss as their erections rubbed against each other, the other man bucking up unconsciously beneath him, seeking more friction, his own breaths taking on a new, needy quality that thrummed through this his brain. Demanding, wanting, needing..

His fingers dug into the firm mattress on either side of the man's wide shoulders, the tips of his fingers burning as he dug them in, ignoring the harsh roughness against the sensitive nerve endings, relishing in the not-quite-there hints of pain, marvelling at how he let him regain the straggling remains of his focus..

And when he gripped the man by the scruff of the neck and knocked his lips against his he figured that he must have done something right as the man let out a desperate little sound that was somewhere between a growl and a squeak that he didn't even know was possible for a human throat to actually make.

And then he was kissing him. Kissing him roughly, desperately, like it was a last chance, a last breath. Like nothing else in the whole two known galaxies could ever, and would ever matter.

And as Rodney's lips conceded to his, the edge of his chapped lips rubbing roughly across his overly wet lower ones, he felt a lot like he had just finally come home...

And right then, he was half tempted to double check, if maybe his heart hadn't stopped a little bit.