![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
icarusThat silly John/Rodney skating AU. Really long section to make up for how short the other one was. Honestly, I wanted to be a lot further along at this point but this scene just turned to be longer than I expected.
Lots and lots of music for this part.
Hey, if you catch any typos and whatnot, let me know because yeah, this is totally unbeta'd.
Part one: 'Get back out there.' – 'No. I'm taking up hockey. It'll *hurt* less.'
Part two: 'So why do we have to skate in the nude again?'
Part three: Naturally, John had brought the boom box but had forgotten to bring any music.
Part four: Rodney wondered if John knew 'Mustang Sally' was a favorite with strippers the world over.
Part five: 'This is hero worship, isn't it?'
Part six: 'Me coach. You student. You keep forgetting that lately.'
Part seven: It was just hockey, not a cardinal sin.
Part eight: I'm sure when we were being chased by sabre-toothed tigers we did all kinds of neat tricks.
Part nine: 'You want to be alone?' Kim-the-unutterably-stupid asked.
Out Of Bounds
by Icarus
Rodney brushed a hand in front of his face, wafting away the cigarette smoke. It was one of the few things he wasn't allergic to but that made it no less deadly. The bar wasn't crowded, and it was probably a little too early on a Thursday night.
He squirmed in his seat impatiently.
The place had bad "classic" rock music and mediocre beer with a décor that was part Irish Pub and part tacky sports bar. But Rodney liked it because it was the favorite haunt of the "nervous virgin" -- college students, or men who thought they were straight but had always wanted… something else. The masculine atmosphere let them pretend they were in an ordinary bar, one that just happened to have only men. There was nothing like showing someone the ropes, and that type almost never wanted your phone number. Though occasionally they ran so fast they left their underwear behind.
Ducking his face behind his mug, Rodney cast a look around, careful not to catch just anyone's eyes. He needed to be selective.
There was the man with the graying mustache chatting up the bartender; nicely dressed, but a little older than he liked. Rodney marked him down as a possible back-up plan, and returned his gaze to his drink before leaning back in his chair, sweeping the room with another casual glance under lowered lashes.
The front door opened and a young man with wavy manicured hair in a crewneck stepped through, good looking but not too out of reach… of course every eye in the room was drawn to him like a magnet, all eloquently casual.
Then he held the door for his laughing friend. Rodney probably wasn't the only one who sighed.
A cluster of men were leaning over the pool table in thin chinos. Rodney raised an eyebrow and stole a gratuitous glimpse, enjoying the curve of the landscape even though they were busy flirting with each other. It never hurt to look. Rodney visualized the four of them together and possibly leered, but he didn't care -- which meant he'd likely had a little too much. Rodney wasn't known for his ability to hold his alcohol, and he was on his second drink, and he still hadn't seen anyone interesting.
"Hi." The table under his elbow shook.
Rodney glanced up to find a young Asian guy in a tight retro shirt pulling out the chair across from him. Slim, attractive, shorter than Rodney. "Quiet night," his Asian friend began with a calculating smile.
Rodney's eyes lit up and he smiled, making sure his guest knew he was welcome. Sometimes experience was good, too.
~*~*~
John rolled to a stop outside Rodney's house, putting it in park. The garbage cans had been pulled to the curb and there was a stack of recycled newspapers on the front porch: signs that maybe Rodney cleaned when he was mad. There'd never been signs he cleaned at any other time. Aside from the porch light the house was dark, though it was pretty early for someone to be asleep.
Unless they'd been up since three-thirty in the morning, which he and Rodney both had.
John rubbed his face and wondered what to do. Finally realizing he was just putting it off, he steeled himself and got out and knocked, bouncing a little as he listened for any signs of life. "C'mon…" John complained under his breath, then hammered on the door again.
There was no answer. John peered in through the windows and could see that the clutter had definitely been stirred up a bit. But there was no Rodney in front of the TV or in the kitchen.
He went back to the car, chafing his hands as he weighed going back to his apartment with waiting for Rodney. Because Rodney seemed like the type who'd hold a grudge, especially if you gave him time to get used to it, like a comfortable pair of jeans. On the other hand, it was cold in the car and he'd just taken some painkillers and so probably should go home.
Wavering, John decided he'd give Rodney twenty minutes. He popped in a CD, pushed back the seat, and settled his hands in his pockets to wait.
~*~*~
Rodney's new Asian friend was a wonderful conversationalist, which was no mean feat as he was from Korea and English was definitely a second language. Kim, his name was. He had small tidy hands and efficient gestures and Rodney was eager to discover how this would play out in the bedroom.
They had a few more drinks, and Rodney leaned over the table and did his level best to charm him, laughing at all his jokes, agreeing with every stupid thing he said. Rodney made sure to mention that he was an athlete and an Olympic skater, international superstar, that sort of thing. The surprise was always so insulting, and Kim didn't look at all like he believed him. But his quick assessing glance up and down Rodney's body was definitely an affirmative.
Rodney ran the cool edge of his glass over his lips to signal that the answer was yes, so please let's get to where, because the when was definitely now.
Kim was giving him a steady almond-eyed gaze, which made Rodney's breath turn ragged, but they seemed to be having a cross-cultural communication problem.
Rodney decided to clarify his position. "It's getting a little crowded in here, don't you think?" In truth, only a few more people had arrived.
"You do not like crowds?" Kim asked, sitting up straight, suddenly defensive.
"Well," Rodney rubbed his fingertips together, "there are times for crowds and then there are times that require a little more privacy." He drummed his fingers on the table. Then stretched and ran a hand through his hair, looking around the bar. "I could use more of the latter right about now. Couldn't you?"
"You want to be alone?" Kim-the-unutterably-stupid asked.
"With you," Rodney huffed, unable to keep it polite. He thanked his lucky stars that IQ and nationality didn't matter at the moment.
Kim traced a finger along the edge of his glass. "I have a friend…."
Rodney's lips parted. His face fell and eyes filled with disappointment as his shoulders dropped. He visualized ax-wielding jealous boyfriends, possibly skilled with numchucks and belonging to the Yakusa. He'd start with cutting off Rodney's fingers for even touching his boyfriend -- had he touched Kim yet? Tragically, no.
"He would like to be, ah, 'private' with us," Kim offered nervously, not looking up from the table.
Rodney's imagination stopped and lurched in a new direction. A threesome. He could do that. He'd never had before, at least not in a premeditated fashion, it had simply happened due to sharing quarters and the circumstances and -- and… and Rodney realized his mouth was still open and he hadn't answered.
"Yes, I -- that would be, um, doable," he said, with eyes like saucers.
Kim made a little bow and said, "Good. He's in the car. He is very shy."
~*~*~
Outside Rodney's house, the full hour of the CD clicked off in John's car.
John's face was soft and relaxed, the zipper of his jacket denting his lip. The fabric there was a little darker where he'd drooled and his closed eyes twitched at the barely noticed change in his environment. He rolled and snuggled his face closer into the corner between the seat and the car door, shifting the dangling seatbelt, arms folded on his chest. With a little sigh, he settled back to sleep.
~*~*~
They got up from the table and Rodney paid for their drinks. He could be gracious with the nice man who was about to give him ridiculous amounts of moderately kinky sex with two slim-hipped Koreans. He moved carefully, fully cognizant of his obvious hard-on, but since that was the natural state of most men here he didn't worry about it. He staggered a little, however, as he held the glass door with an exaggerated sweeping gesture; and he had that underwater feeling of way too much to drink. As he trailed Kim through the door, Rodney hoped he hadn't had so much as to mute his "performance."
Outside, the brisk air brought him to his senses; it had to be about ten degrees Fahrenheit, and Rodney realized they hadn't negotiated the rest of their evening. "So where--?"
"He is in the car," Kim nodded, misunderstanding the question. Rodney wrinkled his nose, squinting as he tried to imagine sitting in a car in this weather for what had to have been hours.
They turned the corner and Kim reached into his pocket, making that magical jingle of car keys, that sound that meant you had scored for the evening and hadn't managed to screw it up somehow. Rodney was feeling very satisfied with himself, humming inwardly. The sedan, comfortable-looking, not overly fancy, had its parking lights on, and there was clearly someone in the front passenger seat.
A very large someone. As they approached Rodney's steps slowed.
"What's this?"
The window rolled down. A monstrous behemoth in a leather jacket -- one that had to have taken a whole cow -- looked Rodney up and down through narrow, squinty eyes, checking him out. He wore a studded leather collar around an enormous neck, and a tiny old-fashioned 1970s biker cap.
Kim spoke hurriedly in Korean to his boyfriend, urgent, cutting quick glances at Rodney, who felt like he was suddenly up for sale.
"Oh, I get it," Rodney said sarcastically. He stabbed a finger at Kim and they paused in their monkey-chatter. "You're just the bait. It's really Ghengis Khan here who wants some action."
He put his hands on his hips. "You're hoping that by the time you get someone out here they'll be desperate enough to follow through!" He glared. "Well, I don't think so."
Kim started speaking very quickly, but the huge guy put up a hand and he stopped.
"Okay, maybe I was desperate enough -- if you'd been willing to tell me! -- but now I don't know what you've got in your trunk," he snapped.
Gathering his dignity, Rodney spun around. He only staggered a little on his way back to the bar.
Halfway there he recalled the Yakuza and the possibility of a sedan running him over, but a quick glance over his shoulder showed nobody there. He returned to inwardly grumbling about wasted time and cursing Zelenka's bad ideas, recalling belatedly why he hated bars.
One hand on the door handle, Rodney paused. He didn't want anyone to think he'd struck out, but that's exactly what this would look like. His chances would be depressingly small after that.
He needed to find another bar.
Rodney hung his head and checked his watch. It was a little after eleven-thirty, and while he didn't have his four am appointment with John -- and oh, it hurt to think of him right now -- he did have another later in the morning. Rodney rubbed his nose, then stepped into the bar to call a cab.
Part ten, right here.
Music coming shortly: John's CD (he seems to be on a Creedence Clearwater Revival jag)
Bad Moon Rising
http://s6.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=1TCR5JLC480RV3FAM3RHAE2XVS
Down On The Corner
http://s11.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=2QFFOJJ8F2SIW06AKAD0B3JUFW
Bad "classic rock" at bar, with my apologies... download at your own risk.
Take Me In Your Arms (Rock Me) by the Doobie Brothers
http://s11.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=2NZAS89TL5NKB109AKN9EZAUOT
Lots and lots of music for this part.
Hey, if you catch any typos and whatnot, let me know because yeah, this is totally unbeta'd.
Part one: 'Get back out there.' – 'No. I'm taking up hockey. It'll *hurt* less.'
Part two: 'So why do we have to skate in the nude again?'
Part three: Naturally, John had brought the boom box but had forgotten to bring any music.
Part four: Rodney wondered if John knew 'Mustang Sally' was a favorite with strippers the world over.
Part five: 'This is hero worship, isn't it?'
Part six: 'Me coach. You student. You keep forgetting that lately.'
Part seven: It was just hockey, not a cardinal sin.
Part eight: I'm sure when we were being chased by sabre-toothed tigers we did all kinds of neat tricks.
Part nine: 'You want to be alone?' Kim-the-unutterably-stupid asked.
Out Of Bounds
by Icarus
Rodney brushed a hand in front of his face, wafting away the cigarette smoke. It was one of the few things he wasn't allergic to but that made it no less deadly. The bar wasn't crowded, and it was probably a little too early on a Thursday night.
He squirmed in his seat impatiently.
The place had bad "classic" rock music and mediocre beer with a décor that was part Irish Pub and part tacky sports bar. But Rodney liked it because it was the favorite haunt of the "nervous virgin" -- college students, or men who thought they were straight but had always wanted… something else. The masculine atmosphere let them pretend they were in an ordinary bar, one that just happened to have only men. There was nothing like showing someone the ropes, and that type almost never wanted your phone number. Though occasionally they ran so fast they left their underwear behind.
Ducking his face behind his mug, Rodney cast a look around, careful not to catch just anyone's eyes. He needed to be selective.
There was the man with the graying mustache chatting up the bartender; nicely dressed, but a little older than he liked. Rodney marked him down as a possible back-up plan, and returned his gaze to his drink before leaning back in his chair, sweeping the room with another casual glance under lowered lashes.
The front door opened and a young man with wavy manicured hair in a crewneck stepped through, good looking but not too out of reach… of course every eye in the room was drawn to him like a magnet, all eloquently casual.
Then he held the door for his laughing friend. Rodney probably wasn't the only one who sighed.
A cluster of men were leaning over the pool table in thin chinos. Rodney raised an eyebrow and stole a gratuitous glimpse, enjoying the curve of the landscape even though they were busy flirting with each other. It never hurt to look. Rodney visualized the four of them together and possibly leered, but he didn't care -- which meant he'd likely had a little too much. Rodney wasn't known for his ability to hold his alcohol, and he was on his second drink, and he still hadn't seen anyone interesting.
"Hi." The table under his elbow shook.
Rodney glanced up to find a young Asian guy in a tight retro shirt pulling out the chair across from him. Slim, attractive, shorter than Rodney. "Quiet night," his Asian friend began with a calculating smile.
Rodney's eyes lit up and he smiled, making sure his guest knew he was welcome. Sometimes experience was good, too.
~*~*~
John rolled to a stop outside Rodney's house, putting it in park. The garbage cans had been pulled to the curb and there was a stack of recycled newspapers on the front porch: signs that maybe Rodney cleaned when he was mad. There'd never been signs he cleaned at any other time. Aside from the porch light the house was dark, though it was pretty early for someone to be asleep.
Unless they'd been up since three-thirty in the morning, which he and Rodney both had.
John rubbed his face and wondered what to do. Finally realizing he was just putting it off, he steeled himself and got out and knocked, bouncing a little as he listened for any signs of life. "C'mon…" John complained under his breath, then hammered on the door again.
There was no answer. John peered in through the windows and could see that the clutter had definitely been stirred up a bit. But there was no Rodney in front of the TV or in the kitchen.
He went back to the car, chafing his hands as he weighed going back to his apartment with waiting for Rodney. Because Rodney seemed like the type who'd hold a grudge, especially if you gave him time to get used to it, like a comfortable pair of jeans. On the other hand, it was cold in the car and he'd just taken some painkillers and so probably should go home.
Wavering, John decided he'd give Rodney twenty minutes. He popped in a CD, pushed back the seat, and settled his hands in his pockets to wait.
~*~*~
Rodney's new Asian friend was a wonderful conversationalist, which was no mean feat as he was from Korea and English was definitely a second language. Kim, his name was. He had small tidy hands and efficient gestures and Rodney was eager to discover how this would play out in the bedroom.
They had a few more drinks, and Rodney leaned over the table and did his level best to charm him, laughing at all his jokes, agreeing with every stupid thing he said. Rodney made sure to mention that he was an athlete and an Olympic skater, international superstar, that sort of thing. The surprise was always so insulting, and Kim didn't look at all like he believed him. But his quick assessing glance up and down Rodney's body was definitely an affirmative.
Rodney ran the cool edge of his glass over his lips to signal that the answer was yes, so please let's get to where, because the when was definitely now.
Kim was giving him a steady almond-eyed gaze, which made Rodney's breath turn ragged, but they seemed to be having a cross-cultural communication problem.
Rodney decided to clarify his position. "It's getting a little crowded in here, don't you think?" In truth, only a few more people had arrived.
"You do not like crowds?" Kim asked, sitting up straight, suddenly defensive.
"Well," Rodney rubbed his fingertips together, "there are times for crowds and then there are times that require a little more privacy." He drummed his fingers on the table. Then stretched and ran a hand through his hair, looking around the bar. "I could use more of the latter right about now. Couldn't you?"
"You want to be alone?" Kim-the-unutterably-stupid asked.
"With you," Rodney huffed, unable to keep it polite. He thanked his lucky stars that IQ and nationality didn't matter at the moment.
Kim traced a finger along the edge of his glass. "I have a friend…."
Rodney's lips parted. His face fell and eyes filled with disappointment as his shoulders dropped. He visualized ax-wielding jealous boyfriends, possibly skilled with numchucks and belonging to the Yakusa. He'd start with cutting off Rodney's fingers for even touching his boyfriend -- had he touched Kim yet? Tragically, no.
"He would like to be, ah, 'private' with us," Kim offered nervously, not looking up from the table.
Rodney's imagination stopped and lurched in a new direction. A threesome. He could do that. He'd never had before, at least not in a premeditated fashion, it had simply happened due to sharing quarters and the circumstances and -- and… and Rodney realized his mouth was still open and he hadn't answered.
"Yes, I -- that would be, um, doable," he said, with eyes like saucers.
Kim made a little bow and said, "Good. He's in the car. He is very shy."
~*~*~
Outside Rodney's house, the full hour of the CD clicked off in John's car.
John's face was soft and relaxed, the zipper of his jacket denting his lip. The fabric there was a little darker where he'd drooled and his closed eyes twitched at the barely noticed change in his environment. He rolled and snuggled his face closer into the corner between the seat and the car door, shifting the dangling seatbelt, arms folded on his chest. With a little sigh, he settled back to sleep.
~*~*~
They got up from the table and Rodney paid for their drinks. He could be gracious with the nice man who was about to give him ridiculous amounts of moderately kinky sex with two slim-hipped Koreans. He moved carefully, fully cognizant of his obvious hard-on, but since that was the natural state of most men here he didn't worry about it. He staggered a little, however, as he held the glass door with an exaggerated sweeping gesture; and he had that underwater feeling of way too much to drink. As he trailed Kim through the door, Rodney hoped he hadn't had so much as to mute his "performance."
Outside, the brisk air brought him to his senses; it had to be about ten degrees Fahrenheit, and Rodney realized they hadn't negotiated the rest of their evening. "So where--?"
"He is in the car," Kim nodded, misunderstanding the question. Rodney wrinkled his nose, squinting as he tried to imagine sitting in a car in this weather for what had to have been hours.
They turned the corner and Kim reached into his pocket, making that magical jingle of car keys, that sound that meant you had scored for the evening and hadn't managed to screw it up somehow. Rodney was feeling very satisfied with himself, humming inwardly. The sedan, comfortable-looking, not overly fancy, had its parking lights on, and there was clearly someone in the front passenger seat.
A very large someone. As they approached Rodney's steps slowed.
"What's this?"
The window rolled down. A monstrous behemoth in a leather jacket -- one that had to have taken a whole cow -- looked Rodney up and down through narrow, squinty eyes, checking him out. He wore a studded leather collar around an enormous neck, and a tiny old-fashioned 1970s biker cap.
Kim spoke hurriedly in Korean to his boyfriend, urgent, cutting quick glances at Rodney, who felt like he was suddenly up for sale.
"Oh, I get it," Rodney said sarcastically. He stabbed a finger at Kim and they paused in their monkey-chatter. "You're just the bait. It's really Ghengis Khan here who wants some action."
He put his hands on his hips. "You're hoping that by the time you get someone out here they'll be desperate enough to follow through!" He glared. "Well, I don't think so."
Kim started speaking very quickly, but the huge guy put up a hand and he stopped.
"Okay, maybe I was desperate enough -- if you'd been willing to tell me! -- but now I don't know what you've got in your trunk," he snapped.
Gathering his dignity, Rodney spun around. He only staggered a little on his way back to the bar.
Halfway there he recalled the Yakuza and the possibility of a sedan running him over, but a quick glance over his shoulder showed nobody there. He returned to inwardly grumbling about wasted time and cursing Zelenka's bad ideas, recalling belatedly why he hated bars.
One hand on the door handle, Rodney paused. He didn't want anyone to think he'd struck out, but that's exactly what this would look like. His chances would be depressingly small after that.
He needed to find another bar.
Rodney hung his head and checked his watch. It was a little after eleven-thirty, and while he didn't have his four am appointment with John -- and oh, it hurt to think of him right now -- he did have another later in the morning. Rodney rubbed his nose, then stepped into the bar to call a cab.
Part ten, right here.
Music coming shortly: John's CD (he seems to be on a Creedence Clearwater Revival jag)
Bad Moon Rising
http://s6.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=1TCR5JLC480RV3FAM3RHAE2XVS
Down On The Corner
http://s11.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=2QFFOJJ8F2SIW06AKAD0B3JUFW
Bad "classic rock" at bar, with my apologies... download at your own risk.
Take Me In Your Arms (Rock Me) by the Doobie Brothers
http://s11.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=2NZAS89TL5NKB109AKN9EZAUOT
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-03-03 09:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-03 09:53 pm (UTC)Icarus
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-03-03 09:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 03:11 am (UTC)Icarus
no subject
Date: 2006-03-03 10:25 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-03-03 10:46 pm (UTC)Ooooh, the suspense! Will John ruin his pretty pretty body by being a stubborn jackass? Will Rodney get himself killed by giant men looking for freaky sex instead of sexing John like a stubborn jackass? Will the two of them stop being stubborn jackasses (jackasi?) and start humping yet?
no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 03:13 am (UTC)Icarus
no subject
Date: 2006-03-03 10:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 03:19 am (UTC)Icarus
no subject
Date: 2006-03-03 11:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 02:15 am (UTC)Icarus
They're awesome aren't they?
From:no subject
Date: 2006-03-03 11:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 03:25 am (UTC)Icarus
no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 12:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 06:21 am (UTC)Icarus
no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 01:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 06:24 am (UTC)Icarus
no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 02:31 am (UTC)More later.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 06:25 am (UTC)Icarus
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 02:36 am (UTC)I might have to commit some sort of ritualistic suicide soon if this keeps up...
Which really means of course, that I want the next chapter as soon as possible.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 02:56 am (UTC)Would you like a slice of this crow I'm having? Takes just like chicken.
Icarus
no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 04:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 06:28 am (UTC)Yes, part nine. This story is 12,000 words and growing, has devoured all my waking hours and I'm determined for some odd reason to post more or less every day until it's done.
It's time to rightly question my sanity.
Icarus
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 04:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 06:31 am (UTC)Icarus
no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 04:39 am (UTC)You know, I wouldn't call this fic crack. Yes it's AU, but the plot and responses of the characters are realistic.
Now, if Rodney gets John to compete in a tutu...
no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 06:33 am (UTC)Icarus
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 07:16 am (UTC)Also, I've finally realized I'm a moron for not having friended you yet. Hi!
no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 11:25 pm (UTC)Yay! Thanks again for including the music, it's nice to have a soundtrack to listen to while I read.
I feel like having a three-dimensional reading/writing experience. Skating really is all about the music.
Icarus
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 04:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-05 12:25 am (UTC)Icarus
no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 07:01 pm (UTC)(Itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny nitpick--in the first part, Rodney says "twelvth grade," whereas as a Canadian, it's "grade twelve.")
no subject
Date: 2006-03-04 07:23 pm (UTC)Gotcha. *makes the change, and thank you.*
Rec-away, oh of course. It's not beta'd -- largely because I'm just sort of fooling around here -- but I will be going through it with a fine-toothed comb once it's complete and ready to be posted in archives and such.
Icarus
no subject
Date: 2006-03-05 02:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-05 02:40 am (UTC)He's also spent so much time either working out or skating that while he's had plenty of sex, he hasn't really had an adult long term relationship. That's another thing that's kept him slightly immature when it comes to relationships.
In addition, while he and McKay are about the same age, McKay's had the punishing experience of stardom at an early age, coupled with years of supporting himself dealing with parents and unreliable young skaters. He acts like he's the "man of the world" as a result.
Icarus
no subject
Date: 2006-03-05 03:06 am (UTC)Can't wait for more, because I'm freezing in sympathy for John !
no subject
Date: 2006-03-05 03:26 am (UTC)If only my homework were going so well.
Icarus
no subject
Date: 2006-03-05 03:34 am (UTC)Maybe John can give him the action he needs. *G*
no subject
Date: 2006-03-05 07:43 am (UTC)Icarus
no subject
Date: 2006-03-08 12:37 am (UTC)Kim started speaking very quickly, but the huge guy put up a hand and he stopped. "Okay, maybe I was desperate enough -- if you'd been willing to tell me! -- but now I don't know what you've got in your trunk," he snapped.
The way it's punctuated now, it looks like Huge Guy (?Ronon?!?) is the one talking, but clearly it's Rodney.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-08 11:50 pm (UTC)Icarus