Characters:Rodney McKay, John Sheppard
Pairing: McShep
ESRB Rating: Mature
Themes: Alternate Realities: Doctor!John/Pool Boy!Rodney

Written for LiveJournal’s Comment_Fic Community. Based on guiltyreasons’s prompt, ‘SGA, John/Rodney, Pool Boy and Rich Scientists’.

Written: July 2nd, 2009

It isn’t because he’s built, because he isn’t. There are no oiled, rippling abs to be seen here. There are no abs at all to be seen, actually; John doesn’t think he’s ever seen the pool guy in anything but tacky Hawaiian button downs over increasingly inane superhero teeshirts.

It isn’t because he’s easy on the eye. Which isn’t to say the pool guy is fugly or anything, but that widow’s peak is only going to get worse before it thinks about getting better and the sharp point of his nose hovers over the wide birth of his mouth like a ski slope.

And it certainly isn’t because of his charm. While he isn’t down-right rude to John himself (he’s more gruff towards John, but in a polite-enough way), the pool guy’s acerbic tone rings through the air as he chews out his assistant with snarky, condescending barbs over a cell phone. John’s well versed in what an ‘idiot’ some guy named Kavanaugh is.

But there’s something… compelling about Rodney the Pool Guy that makes John fold his arms and lean against the wide sliding glass door anyway. The way he maneuvers the long net, scooping leaves out in the bright Californian sunshine. The careful way he cleans the trap. The precise way he balances the chlorine pulls John away from his desk and its important work, all to… watch.

And maybe fantasize a little. Fantasize about those wide hands on his own bare back. That slanted mouth on his arching neck. Those bright blue eyes looking into his just before Rodney goes down on him.

It’s been a long time for Doctor John Sheppard.

John isn’t subtle in how he watches. He gave that up months ago, but Rodney hasn’t quit yet. So John watches and Rodney cleans and that’s how they spend their respective Wednesday afternoons, separated by glass and air conditioning.

It’s August and hot. Rodney is wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat that looks ridiculous. He has zinc on his nose anyway. And God, does John want him. Licking his lips, John does something he’s never done on a Wednesday: he slides open the door.

Rodney hears it immediately and turns, squinting against the glare coming across the water.

“Hey,” John starts, clearing his throat when his voice cracks over the simple syllable.

“Yeah?” Rodney returns, that caustic undertone ever present.

Hooking a thumb behind him, John pushes on. “It’s, uh. Kind of hot. And I thought, maybe…. Lemonade?”

Rodney the Pool Guy snorts. Loudly. He shakes his head like maybe John is as much an idiot as Kavanaugh. John frowns. This isn’t going the way he imagined it.

“And go into anaphylactic shock?” Rodney returns to netting the leaves off the bottom of the pool. “Think I’ll pass.”

John frowns harder and pushes his glasses up his long nose.

“Of course, if you’re trying to invite me in for something else, that might be different.” Rodney, in his nose-zinc and crazy hat, shoots Sheppard a heated look that makes John’s dick stir in his slacks.

John feebly continues to hook his thumb over his shoulder. “I… I think I am,” he says in a burst of honesty.

Rodney simply lets the handle of the long net go, forgetting it in an instant as he comes around to the sliding glass door. “About time, too,” he says, hauling John forward by the lapels, slamming a kiss into him.

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