My World and Will You Please Stop Moving?

~ Written for the Enclosed Spaces challenge on sga_flashfic.

It was lucky for them both, Carson thought, that neither of them were claustrophobic. Although having just a wee bit more room would have done nicely.

"You're wriggling," Rodney accused.

"I'm breathing," Carson replied, evenly.

"Well, stop it. You're... distracting me."

Carson grinned. It was utterly dark in here, but he knew that Rodney knew he was grinning the same way he knew Rodney was rolling his eyes right back.

They were plastered together, squished into a space that was probably meant to be a tea towel closet. Enough room to breathe -- without wriggling -- but not enough to do anything else.

"Are you *sure* you're trying?" Rodney asked for the fifteenth time.

"Yes, I'm trying!" Carson snapped, losing his patience momentarily. "It's not like I'm enjoying this. Well, I would if I could move my hand, or reach something other than your shoulder."

"Yes, yes, let's dwell on the fact you're pressed up against me and wriggling and not able to do anything more about it."

"*You*? What about me?"

They were both hard, bodies reacting to the familiar presence of a lover who was close enough that there ought to have been some kind of sex going on. But they didn't have enough room to move more than the occasional wriggle.

Which meant they'd been standing here for half an hour torturing each other.

"Are *you* sure you can't reach the door?" Carson asked again.

"I told you, I can't feel anything but smooth surface. If there is a door mechanism, I can't find it. Which makes sense because most of the Ancient technology is based on mental activation which means that someone with the ATA gene should be able to *open the door* without needing a hand free."

"Oh, aye, and I'm enjoying this *so* well, I'm refusing to do so."

There was a pause, then Rodney sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm just frustrated."

Carson waited a moment, then found himself relaxing as he accepted his lover's apology. He nodded, his chin rubbing on Rodney's shoulder. "I'm sorry, as well. And frustrated. I... you don't suppose it'll be long before anyone notices we're missing?"

"I'm sure they'll notice sooner or later." Rodney sounded not so confident, but Carson took him at his word. The alternative was to imagine being stuck in here for hours. For hours not being able to move, to reach down and grab his or Rodney's cock, or even move his head enough he could get his lips onto Rodney's.

Maybe the Ancients disapproved of gay sex, and this was their clever way of punishing them?

"Are you sure you don't want to play a game of chess?" Rodney asked again. Carson had explained that he couldn't remember the layout of the board in his head log enough to make more than two moves, but this was the fourth time Rodney had asked.

Instead of answering, Carson just tilted his head down as much as he could, and bit.


The door slid open and they turned; Carson blinked at the sudden light.

"Are you two all right?" Lieutenant Ford and Major Sheppard were standing there, looking at them with uncertain expressions.

"Oh, thank god!" Rodney pushed, and Carson went tumbling out of the tiny closet. Ford caught him and helped him keep his feet.

"We aren't interrupting anything, are we?" Sheppard asked.

Rodney straightened his shirt -- Carson knew it was a substitute for grabbing himself. "Oh, yes, let's assume the brilliant scientists aren't clever enough to pick a closet *large* enough to have sex in."

Ford choked, and Carson shook his head. Rodney frowned slightly, looked from Ford to Carson, then frowned harder.

"He didn't know?"

"He does, now," Carson said.

Sheppard began, "Can I make the obvious joke about--"

"No." Rodney glared at him. "Right now, Carson and I have... things. To take care of. Thank you for rescuing us, gentlemen." He grabbed Carson by the arm and began pushing him down the corridor the small closet had been located in.

"What were you two doing in there, anyway?" Sheppard called after them. Carson didn't answer, and hoped Rodney would say nothing. Then they heard Ford.

"Hey, sir, take a look at this."

There was a noise, then the very familiar sound of a door closing.

Rodney and Carson turned, and saw the closet door was closed, and no sign of Ford or Sheppard.

"It's like a will o the wisp," Carson said.

"How long should we leave them in there?" Rodney asked.

"Depends. Do you want Major Sheppard to teach you how to fly the puddle jumpers?"

Rodney looked at him, then nodded. "Rescuing them right now would be good."

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