“So…’ John said, his words taking on that elongated quality that comes with too much alcohol. “It´s possible I´m drunk.’

Rodney snorted. “It´s possible I was drunk two beers ago,’ he said, nodding his head.

“And yet still you drink,’ John said, smirking at him and lifting a shoulder.

“Yes,’ Rodney said, blinking slowly. “You know. Before Atlantis, my tolerance was way up there.’

“Mm,’ John said nodding. “Mine too. Well. Not way up there, but higher than it is now anyway.’

“A pint,’ Rodney said, raising a finger. “A pint of scotch, I could drink.’

John´s eyes widened, his chin slipping off his fisted hand before he corrected it. “A pint? Really? See, I was more of a beer guy. I was thinking more in twelve packs.’

“Yes, well try living in Russia. Liquor has a warming effect.’

John´s grin lit up the whole room. Or possibly just Rodney, he wasn´t sure at this point. “Know what else has a warming effect? Body heat.’

Rodney spluttered in his drink. “What?’

“I´m just saying,’ John said, grinning, eyes perusing the thinning crowd of the bar that wasn´t that crowded to begin with. “That´s what I´ve heard. Jackie Collins told me.’

Rodney went back to his default mode and snorted, rolling his eyes. “Never took you for a romance novel reader.’

“Or was it Danielle Steele,’ John mumbled, fingers tapping on the table as he frowned in concentration. “Anyway, I´m not.’

“I´m sure every hack novelist has used the body heat method of seduction at least twelve times in their vast repository of crap,’ Rodney said flippantly, picking up his drink and trying to decide if this hazy relaxed feeling was one that was going to stick or one that was going to turn into spinning rooms and vomit.

John stared at him. “How do you do that?’

“Do what,’ Rodney asked, frowning at him. “Insult novelists?’

“No, be drunk and use words like repository,’ John asked, his head craning to the side in just the exactly right way for Rodney´s eyes to be drawn to the graceful slope of his neck.

“My brain, Colonel,’ Rodney said, tapping a finger at his temple and smirking at him. “Even drunk, it´s still more agile and skilled than ninety percent of the human population´s.’

John rolled his eyes, fingers wrapping around the beer in front of him, swishing the liquid inside it around in smooth controlled arcs. “You really are a cocky son of a bitch, you know that McKay?’

“I´m not conceited, I´m convinced,’ Rodney muttered before draining the last of his beer and resting back in his chair, closing his eyes. “I´m not looking forward to tomorrow.’

John groaned and Rodney opened his eyes to see his face pinched in discomfort. “Me either. I´m not good at… ya know… talking.’

Rodney laughed. “You´re fine at talking, Colonel, you´re just not good at talking about anything meaningful.’ He grinned then, shrugging. “Which is part of why we´re kindred spirits, because neither am I.’

“Okay, fine, I´m not good at knowing how to check up on someone without it seeming as though that´s what I´m doing.’ John wrinkled his nose at him. “Did you just call us kindred spirits?’

Rodney rolled his eyes. “So I´m drunk. Shut up.’

John laughed, shrugging. “I don´t know Rodney, that sounds awful close to soulmates. Are you coming onto me?’

“Yes, I´m coming onto you,’ Rodney said, voice full of derision. “Because I´m known for my stupidity and I´ve always liked banging my head against hard surfaces repeatedly.’

John´s eyebrow rose. “Kinky.’

Rodney rolled his eyes. “You know what I´m saying.’

“Hmm,’ John said, putting on his ‘thinking face´ again and staring at the table top. “Just to be clear, what you´re saying is that if you thought you had a chance, you might hit on me. But since you know you don´t… why bother?’

Rodney swallowed and looked for a sign telling him that John was just joking but it wasn´t there. When John´s eyes lifted he was completely unreadable. “We should go,’ he blurted out, clearing his throat and looking away. “Too much alcohol and conversations I don´t want to have happen.’

“Too much alcohol and conversations I do want to have happen,’ John said, leaning closer. “You know, I see the way you look at me. I´m not as oblivious as you think I am.’

Rodney blinked at him. “Seriously. We should go. I´ll uh… call a cab.’ He swallowed, clearing his throat again. “To take me to a hotel. There´s a really nice Marriot--’

“You´re staying at my place tonight, your bags are already there,’ John said, smiling slowly. “And you´re avoiding my question.’

Rodney exhaled sharply and looked at him. “What exactly is your question.’

John shrugged. “Didn´t you just tell me that even drunk your brain is more agile and skilled than ninety percent of the human population´s?’

Rodney reached up and rubbed his eyes. “I don´t… what are you…’

“I see the way you look at me. I´m not saying I mind, Rodney. I´m pretty much saying that the last thing I do is mind.’

Rodney opened his eyes. “What?’

John rolled his eyes. “For Christ´s sake, Rodney, do I need to write it in binary code for you? I´m saying it doesn´t bother me.’

Rodney frowned. “Are you encouraging me to come out of the closet? Is that what this is? Because if so, there´s no need. I´m not in the closet. I like both women and men, and I´ve never felt the need to hide that.’

John´s eyebrows came together. “Funny, because you´ve never even once mentioned to me that you might like men. Sounds like hiding to me.’

Rodney shook his head. “No, you´re confusing hiding with not feeling the urge to broadcast. It´s not the same.’

John stared at him for a moment and then shook his head, closing his eyes. “No, stop it, you´re confusing me again. I was saying I didn´t mind.’

“Well thank you for your support, Colonel,’ Rodney said dryly, suddenly supremely tired. “And if you´re done with your It´s Okay If You´re Gay speech, could we just--’

“I´m interested, Rodney,’ John said, lunging forward until his face was inches from Rodney´s. “Jesus you really can´t take a hint. That was me trying to be suave and subtle in telling you that I was interested.’

Rodney frowned. “It was?’

“Yes!’

“Oh,’ Rodney said, feeling lightheaded.

“Oh,’ John echoed, nodding and looking embarrassed, not meeting Rodney´s eyes.

“I´m not… good at subtle.’

John laughed. “Obviously neither am I.’

“Well… then…’

John cleared his throat, eyes flicking to Rodney´s briefly before skittering away again. “So you wanna get out of here?’

Rodney shook his head, hands gripping the table. “You´re interested.’

John sighed, settling back in the chair. “Do we really have to talk about this? Can´t we just go back to my place? We just established I wasn´t good at talking to people.’

Rodney looked at him. “You´re interested? In me?’

John rolled his eyes, leaning forward and placing his hands on the table. “Here´s what´s gonna happen. I´m gonna get up, pay the bill, and go call a cab. You´re going to then walk with me to that cab, come back to my place with me, and then there will be no talking about anything.’

Rodney watched him stand. “If we´re not going to talk then what are we--’

“Rodney,’ John said, leaning over the table and glaring at him. “Are you really this fucking obtuse?!’

Rodney blinked up at him. “Yes?’

“Come on,’ John said, standing up and walking two steps backwards. “Come on.’

“What,’ Rodney asked, standing up and holding onto the table. “Where are we going?’

John glared at him and then turned, walking purposefully and directly into the bathroom. Rodney took a good full minute to realize that John expected him to follow him. It took another good thirty seconds for him to get his feet to actually move.

He pushed the door open to see John standing with his arms crossed, glaring at a drunken college-aged frat-boy type leaning on the wall. “Seriously, could you just piss and get out?’

“Dude, I´m trying,’ the kid said. “Chill.’

John´s eyes flicked to Rodney and Rodney found himself freezing to the spot.

“Ever heard the expression shit or get off the pot,’ John said, walking closer. “My friend and I need to have a little chat and we don´t need you in here listening to it.’

The kid laughed, wobbling to the side. “Right, yeah. But I don´t have to shit, I have to piss.’

John´s jaw tightened and his hands closed into fists and Rodney stepped forward, digging in his pocket for the first bill he felt. “Give us ten minutes,’ he said, slapping a twenty into the kid´s sweaty hand and glaring at him. “If you have to piss between now and ten minutes from now do like any self-respecting frat-boy and do it in the alley.’

“Cool,’ the kid said, staring at the crumpled twenty. Looking up at Rodney he gave him a wide smile. “Why is it so important that you have this bathroom all to yourself?’

“Drug deal,’ Rodney spat at him, taking his arm and physically pulling him toward the door. “Don´t wanna get busted, kid. Put a black mark on your record.’

John shoved the kid out of the bathroom and then immediately bent in half, checking out the stalls as Rodney stared down at him.

“What exactly are we doing in here,’ Rodney asked, wondering if the spinning in his head was because of the beer or because of John. He was pretty sure it was a mixture of both.

John lifted up, looking at him and then walking over to the door of the bathroom, twisting the lock savagely. “Well words don´t seem to penetrate that thick skull of yours,’ he said, walking slowly towards him.

Rodney swallowed backing up. “You´re not going to hit me are you? Because you almost hit that kid, and you really look like you´re about to hit me.’

John´s half smile sent a chill down Rodney´s spine. “Hitting´s not what I had in mind,’ he said, reaching forward and yanking Rodney to him by the beltloops of his jeans. “No more talking. Got it, McKay?’

“But--’

“Uh uh,’ John said, shaking his head and backing Rodney up into the wall. “No. Talking.’

And the alcohol really must have been affecting Rodney more than he´d been expecting because it wasn´t until John´s lips were on his, his body pressing into Rodney´s, that it really clicked.

“Oh my god,’ he mumbled against John´s mouth, his hands batting at John´s shoulders. “You´re interested in me!’

“Shut up,’ John said, and Rodney was okay with that because he followed it up by kissing him again, his tongue winding into Rodney´s mouth and hands sliding down Rodney´s sides to his hips.

Rodney finally melted into the kiss, the feel of John´s tongue against his heady and new and unexpected. Of the times he´d imagined this, this very scenario even, he´d never thought it would happen, and for him to be here with John, doing this, the tips of John´s fingers scratching lightly at the skin above his waistband, was almost too much.

“I don´t want to do this here,’ John breathed against his mouth, his eyes open when Rodney looked at him, inches in front of him and more intense than they´d ever been. “I want us to go back to my place where there´s a couch, a fucking bed, and do this so long and so hard we both can´t walk in the morning.’

Rodney´s mouth fell open and he almost came right then and there. “Jesus.’

John´s grin was wicked and wide, and his eyebrow darted up. “Now you´re getting it.’

* Clarification: The apparent lack of respect for Jackie Collins, Danielle Steele, and authors of their ilk is not something I made up for this story, it is real, and I do not apologize for it.

While they both write very pretty, I'll give them that much, their books tend to be all style and no substance. They're a cheap excuse to make millions of dollars off of horny housewives who don't get enough sex and "romance" from their hubbies. And also excel in making romance a nearly impossible thing to achieve in the real world: "But why don't YOU whisk me off to Paris on a Thursday and tell me my eyes remind you of the Baltic Sea?!?!!?" *barf*

Their existence does, however, make for a line that made me giggle the second I wrote it.