Sorry, I simply had to jot it down.
Many thanks to ![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
carolyn_claire, who cheered me on even though we missed each other at first ("We are two sheeps that pass out in the night, aren't we?"), and lunasky, who was enthusiastic about this li'l PWP of mine.
Title: One-Point Five Percent, Or Less
Spoilers: a small one for 2x01
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Pairing: McKay/Sheppard
Rating: Hard R.
***
Of course, he'd wanted to fuck Sheppard.
To turn him around and push him against the main lab table, in clear view of the ZPM slot (John and sex and quantum mechanics, oh God). To hear that hitched breath of surprise-excitement-need. To slip rough fatigues down slim hips (he holds the colonel personally responsible for this all-new kink) and take him right there, watching John's knuckles whiten reflexively with each thrust, listening to his sharp exhalations and the low, happy moans he'd try to hold in, to no avail.
No, the fantasies that snuck up on him in the brief/endless moments between waking and sleeping were different. Not only different from this little film strip in his mind but also from his usual cravings of a time before walking through an arc of steel into the treasure trove of the Pegasus galaxy -- overwhelming, glittering, booby-trapped. A propos, images of John on his back, breathless, smiling up at him with not only his mouth but his eyes, looking at him with the sort of spark likely to cause cardiac arrhythmia, lifting up a strong right arm and slowly brushing long fingers across his jawline.
A surprise, finally, to find himself here and now, on his side, warm all over and still tingling everywhere, the rumble of an amused, sleepy voice stirring the fine hairs at the nape of his neck. "Didn't know you'd have it in you, Rodney."
Yes, trust John to pun where no pun should ever go.
"Well, I didn't either." No, he wouldn't have guessed he'd find himself in this position. And John, John wanting this -- this, with him -- had just been utterly improbable.
When John's arms tighten around him, sweat-slick skin on sweat-slick skin, the sensation spreading through him hotter and brighter than the light of a thousand stars, Rodney is placated by the fact at least one old assumption of his has been proven true.
Stochastics is a curiously useless discipline.
***
A/N:
1. Apologies for the lack of accuracy, it's been a long time since I studied it in school. And, just because someone asked:
Stochastics has been commonly understood to comprise probability theory and mathematical statistics as well as their applications. This explanation of stochastics is essentially due to Ladislaus von Bortkiewicz (1868-1931). In his paper ’Die Iterationen’ (1917) he defines the term Stochastik as follows (translation of the German original by the editors): "The investigation of empirical varieties, which is based on probability theory, and, therefore, on the law of the large numbers, may be denoted as stochastics. But stochastics
is not simply probability theory, but above all probability theory and its applications, be it to general empirical varieties, be it to specific varieties."
- source
2. Not only is the piece obscure, I *had* to come up with a odd title, eh? Well, if we presume 10% of any given population sample are gay or bi enough to consider a same-sex affair, Rodney would realistically calculate that, no matter how much in awe of or cowed by his brilliance, only 15% actually like him well enough. 0 :-)
3. I wanted a triple-drabble (300 words, for the ones like me who are bad at countin'), but it didn't want that. Also, I cannot, for the life of me, avoid atrocious puns. Alas!
