All's Fair in War

~ For mice1900

Rodney frowned.

Carson continued to ignore him, so Rodney gave it another moment, then frowned louder. He waited, but Carson was still staring at the pages of his printout as though it were actually more important -- or at the least, more interesting. Rodney gave him five more seconds, then he frowned as loudly as he could.

Carson kept reading.

"Huh," Rodney thought. If Carson wanted to play it that way, then Rodney could give just as good as he was getting. He shifted, carefully not making any sudden moves that would call attention to himself until he was into position.

Arms folded across his chest, he stopped frowning, and pouted.

Carson kept reading.

Rodney realised that it was remotely possible that Carson really <i>was</i> reading and didn't have a clue that Rodney wanted to interrupt him. Rodney was about to say something, to check, when he noticed that Carson's eyes weren't moving. No side-to-side, no up-and-down. He wasn't reading at all, even if he was flipping to the next page every now and then.

Right, then. Time for another volley.

Rodney leaned back in his chair, very slightly, and propped an elbow up on the edge of the table. His laptop was still displaying the file he'd been working on earlier when inspiration had struck him; he thought briefly about going back to work and wouldn't that teach Carson a lesson about ignoring him.

But Carson would probably consider it a victory, thinking he'd out-ignored Rodney when in fact Rodney would have won by out-ignoring Carson. Since it was unfortunately rather impossible to prove that sort of win, Rodney figured he should stick with a traditional victory.

He pouted a tiny bit harder, not wanting to overdo it and make Carson tease him about spending too much of his time with John. Rodney had very carefully never told him that Ronon had John's pout beat all to hell, because no one besides him, John, and Teyla seemed to have ever seen it.

He pouted for a few moments until it seemed like it wasn't going to work. Then he gave a sort of silent sigh, and looked at the floor as though he were sincerely trying to decide if it was worth interrupting Carson, or if he should just drop it and go back to his work.

He'd just started to turn reluctantly back towards his laptop when Carson snapped, "For god's sake, Rodney, it's a medical journal!"

Stifling his triumphant grin, Rodney said, "Like I care?" He looked hopeful when Carson glared at him, then he smiled, a very small, restrained smile as though he thought there was the tiniest chance that Carson would say 'no' anyhow.

Carson kept glaring at him, and Rodney spun his chair around because he'd won, he knew he'd won, and there was no point in acting like he hadn't won. Carson rolled his eyes and sighed, and muttered something under his breath.

Then he went back to his journal and began reading for real.

Out loud.

Rodney closed his eyes and told himself that if he stayed in his chair, then Carson would keep reading and he could keep listening.

He made it nearly three minutes before he jumped up and stalked over to the sofa. Rodney grabbed the pages out of Carson's not-so-startled hands, then straddled Carson's legs and leaned in, kissing him. Rodney was already half-hard, had been since Carson had said 'splice site mutations.' He kept kissing Carson, pushing him back, and thinking just how happy he was that the SGC transmitted new reading material to Atlantis every month.

Not that it mattered, because he'd discovered that Carson could read the file directories, and achieve the same effect.

He grinned, and Carson laughed. Rodney kissed him again, then shoved the printout at him. "Read," he growled.

"I can't read while you're kissing me," Carson said, getting only one or two words out in between Rodney's attacks on his mouth.

"Read," Rodney told him, and he turned his attention to Carson's neck, then leaned back and yanked Carson's shirt off. He noticed the indulgent look Carson was giving him, but Rodney just tapped the pages of his journal.


There was a sigh, then, "In order to obtain PCR bands of the same intensity--"

Rodney was sucking on Carson's collarbone and working his way down Carson's chest. He tried to shift forward, wanting to rub his cock against Carson -- but he couldn't do that and reach him with his mouth, the way they were sitting. He growled at himself, wondering which one he wanted to give up. Then Carson's hand was pressing against him, and rubbing, and Rodney threw back his head and groaned.

There was a flutter of paper, then Carson was shoving Rodney's shirt up, and there was a mouth on his left nipple and Rodney thought dear god, maybe he should subscribe Carson to a few more journals.