Maria (ria_fics) wrote,

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14 (completely clichéd) AU ways Kavanagh and Lorne meet.

Title: 14 (completely clichéd) AU ways Kavanagh and Lorne meet.
Author: ria_kukalaka
Pairing: Lorne/Kavanagh
Word Count: 8384
Rating: R
Summary: Because Kavanagh and Lorne should be together in every universe. Except for the one where’s he with Ronon. Or Sheppard. Or Teyla. Or Simpson. Or...
Prompt: The 14 Challenge at kavtolanon. And ‘082: If’ for fanfic100. See my Big Damn Table .
Disclaimer If the parallel universe theory is correct, there's some distant AU out there where I own them. Unfortunately this is not it.
Notes: Crack, pure crack! Many thanks to my amazing betae, azicrow and imagechild. All remaining mistakens are because I'm too stubborn to listen.

1. Puppy Love
Calvin Kavanagh had been best friends with Nick Lorne for as long as he could remember. His whole life, such as it was. But then Nick’s family moved away, when he was only 8. He didn’t make friends that easily, so he spent a long time missing the more energetic boy and all the pranks they got up too.

Nick’s father was in the military and they moved around a lot. They moved back to Boston when Nick was 15, but on the other side of the city. Calvin would never have known except Nick turned up on his door one day.

They spent almost everyday of that fall together. Nick taught Calvin the proper way to throw a football and Cal helped Nick with all the school work he’d missed out on because of constantly having to change classes. Just like that, they were best friends again, like no time had passed.

But, as they both knew would happen, Colonel Lorne got transferred again.
On their last day together, Nick asked him to meet at the old cemetery they tended to hang out in when they wanted to get away from everyone else.
As Cal came toward him, his eyes downcast and his walk dejected, Nick pushed him against one of the tall trees that grew in between the abandoned headstones and kissed him. He’d been agonising about it for days and he wasn’t going to give himself a chance to back out.

Calvin was completely taken back and froze in place. It’s not that he hadn’t thought about it, had even jerked off to it. But he never expected that the other boy felt the same.

Nick moved back, his cheeks tinted slightly pink. “Sorry,” he mumbled to the floor. “Just something I wanted to try before going.” Cal pulled him back, missing the heat of the other body already.

Their second kiss was soft and sweet at first but then Nick opened his mouth ever so slightly and Cal pushed his tongue in. He tasted deliciously sweet and Cal pushed in deeper, wanting more, wanting to taste all of him. Someone moaned and he honestly couldn’t say who it was. But it was over too quickly as they both had to part, panting with lust and lack of oxygen.

His blood was quickly heading south and his mind was reeling with all the things they could do. But Nick looked at him with such sadness in his eyes that not even his teenage hormones could keep the erection up. “I have to go.” He whispered and walked away, not looking back.

2. Money can’t buy me Love
Kavanagh glanced around the seedy bar. He still wasn’t sure what he was doing here. His older brother was getting married and he’d insisted he come to the bachelor party. He wasn’t much for family but he’d come anyway. He’d even bought alcohol. Now he needed to get back and work on his thesis.

He didn’t bother saying goodbye. Owen would insist he stay and then forget all about it. The air outside was cool and crisp, a refreshing change from the smoky atmosphere inside the room.

“Looking for some company?” A thick, sensual voice broke through the night’s silence. He glanced up to see the owner of the voice was just as sensual, about his own age, wearing a dark jeans and a thin black silk shirt with all the buttons open down the front, despite the breezy night. He was showing off just enough of his chest to make it obvious he worked out.

“Hmm,” he has never been all that good at picking up strangers. Or anyone for that matter, but there was something about the guy that caused him to nod. “Yeah, sure.”

They guy, who introduced himself as Nick, turned around and started walking. Kavanagh followed, thinking they were going back to his place. He was a bit surprised when they stopped in front of a run down building with “no tell, motel” flashing in badly lit neon lights. But he could understand why that the guy might not want to take him home so he followed him inside.

The grossly overweight woman behind the counter seemed to know Nick and she smiled, handing him a set of keys without question. He didn't waste too much time worrying over the fact that apparently he had picked up a slut. That was what condoms were invented for.

“$50 for a blowjob. $130 for sex. Although I’ll knock off the $30 if you let me top and I don’t kiss.” Nick reeled off in a practiced manner once they got into the room.

Kavanagh stared at him, shocked to silence, a rare occurrence for him. “You…you’re a prostitute?” He stuttered eventually.

“I prefer the term Professional Intimate Companion.” Nick replied nonchalantly. “You couldn’t tell?”

Kavanagh didn’t bother with a reply, instead he pulled out his wallet and looked sheepishly at the few $1 bills there. “Grad student.” He explained, shrugging his shoulders.

“Riiight,” Nick drawled. “Fine. Have a pleasant evening. You owe nice Miss Weir downstairs a $20 for the room.”

“Oh calm down. I didn’t say I couldn’t pay.” He replied affronted. Although he had actually intended to get out of it, but there was just something about the man. The same odd feeling he’d gotten outside the bar. Something told him he’d be worth the money. And he was rarely wrong. “Can we just hit an ATM first?”

He had thought the walk back to the high street would be awkward, but it turned out Nick was not just a pretty face. He was studying geology with the hopes of getting into the Air Force. To him, this seemed like a damned stupid way of doing getting into the armed forces but when he’d suggested it, the man had just chuckled and shrugged something about ‘doing what we have to’.

It was nice to be able to talk about academics with someone he wasn’t in direct competition for fund money with. Nick’s thesis, though nowhere near as brilliant as his own, was not bad and his insights were surprisingly smart. Plus he made Kavanagh laugh.

He would never have admitted it but he was disappointed when they got back to the room and Nick started to strip. “You decided what you want yet?”

Kavanagh looked down at his hands, his cheeks burning as he tried to think of an answer.

“You’ve never done this before.” Nick observed with an amused, but not unkind laugh. “Ok how about we make it a flat rate of $70 and see where the night takes us?”

Kavanagh took out the money and willing his hands not to tremble, placed it on the nightstand. Nick took hold of him almost before he’d finished and pulled him into a kiss.

“I thought you didn’t - ” Kavanagh was cut off with another kiss and Nick caused them both to topple onto the bed.

The next morning, Nick was gone but the money remained untouched on the table and the room had been paid for.

3. I kind of have this problem with...

“No! No! You don’t understand.” Dr. Kavanagh complained to the perky, though obviously dim, airhostess with “Lizzie” on her nametag. “I have a double PhD in inorganic chemistry and structural engineering, so when I tell you that wing looks like it’s about to fall off, you should listen to me.” This was at least the third time he’d tried to explain it and his frustration was beginning to show.

“Can I get you another drink, sir?” She asked pleasantly as if the whole conversation hadn’t taken place.

“No! I do not want a drink. I want to talk to someone with more than 3 functioning brain cells. Please!”

The woman took a deep breath, rearranged the shirt of her uniform and nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

When she returned, she had the co-pilot in tow. An attractive sort of guy if you were into that kind of thing, with an obviously falsely cheery smile. Kavanagh hated him on sight. “A co-pilot? That’s the best they could do for such important concerns?” He complained as ‘Lizzie’ walked away, obviously glad it was no longer her problem.

The co-pilot, whose nametag identified him as Evan Nicholas Lorne, smiled that infuriating smile again. “Sorry, the pilot’s busy, doing a little thing called keeping his plane in the air.”

Kavanagh shook his head but accepted this was the best he was going to get. As calmly as possible went through the list of all concerns, logically pointing out the reasons behind each one.

Lorne’s smile didn’t waver throughout it all, but it did change, into something resembling genuine amusement, and maybe something more. “Come with me. I think I have the solution to your problem.”

He led Kavanagh into the small staff-only toilet and locked the door.

“What? You want to show me something in the restroom. Did you even understand - ” The rest of the sentence was muffled as Evan stuck his tongue down Kavanagh’s throat.

“Just relax. I know exactly what the problem is. And how to solve it.”

Kavanagh was going to disagree but then the pilot had somehow, very awkwardly, managed to get onto his knees in front of him. Before he knew it, his trousers and boxers were pushed down and his cock was surrounded by delicious, hot suction. And he wasn’t stupid enough to argue with that. He wasn’t a double PhD for nothing.

It turned out that Lorne was especially gifted at giving blowjobs and it only took minutes before Kavanagh was coming, his world whiting out for a moment. When he came back to his senses Evan was on his way out already. “Meet me when the plane lands. In the meantime…you have something else to focus on.”

And he did.

4. Walk a mile in someone else’s shoes
Major Kavanagh was just about ready to shoot someone. He’d spent all day ‘welcoming’ the new scientists and giving them the basics of living in Atlantis. It was basically a babysitting assignment and the only reason he’d drawn it was because of Weir’s personal dislike of him. He never understood why that woman couldn’t behave like the professional she purported to be.

He’d only gotten through about half the list and it was already dinnertime. Luckily most of the new arrivals had become so enchanted with their new toys they hadn’t even noticed. He’d be doing food runs soon, just to stop them from starving, he thought to himself bitterly.

Next on his list was Dr. Nicholas Lorne, a geologist. He walked in to the assigned lab to see a nerdy scientist, just like all the others today. “Dr. Lorne, I’m Major Kavanagh. I’ve been told to make sure you know what you’re doing and are not going to blow us all to hell and back.”

Lorne, reluctantly, looked up from something on his laptop and behind those wire-rimmed glasses were stunningly hazel eyes. On seeing the Major, he slowly stared all the way down his athletic body, quite obviously checking him out. He smirked which turned into a sly grin spreading across his face. “I wouldn’t mind blowing you.”

Yeah, so maybe this assignment wouldn’t be all bad.

5. Marriage is the triumph of imagination over intelligence.
Atlantis and Athos were two neighbouring countries that had been at war for as far back as time stretched. It had been so long that no one even remembered why it had started.

The leader of Athos, Teyla Emmagen, was a beautiful and wise woman who had only recently inherited the responsibility from her father. Tired of losing her people in a futile fight, she had sent a message of peace to the tyrannous Queen Elizabeth of Atlantis. The Queen had accepted. However, in order to seal their shaky allegiance she ordered her younger (and less beloved) son, Kavanagh to marry Lorne, the Squire of Athos.

Kavanagh had always been of sound mind and independent thought and wasn’t impressed with the idea at all. So the Queen instructed Ronon, her personal guard to ensure this task was completed.

Ronon and Kavanagh travelled the treacherous road to Athos by foot, carriage and horseback. Every time they stopped, Kavanagh tried to find an escape. He knew McKay would help shield him if he could only get back. As often as they disagreed, they were still brothers. Unfortunately, Ronon, the big goon, found him each time with little effort.

After several long, difficult days they finally arrived at Teyla’s castle, with Kavanagh miraculously still in more or less one piece. Teyla, ever the beneficent host, gave him a room to clean up and change before dinner, when the Squire would be joining them.

Kavanagh, still convinced this was the worst idea in the history of ideas, tried to sneak out of the window. But as always Ronon was ready for him and partially carried him back to his given room. He looked like he was about to start helping Kavanagh change, so Kavanagh quickly promised to behave.

Ronon stayed anyway though and he ended up trying to change whilst worrying about his modesty. It was an awkward affair, but eventually he was clean and dressed and ready to meet his future husband, unless he could use his rather impressive brain power to get out of it sometime really soon.

Ronon’s intimidating stance made it rather difficult to think though and before he knew it, he was being pushed along to the banquet hall. Teyla introduced him to a long line of really uninteresting people who he wouldn’t recognise in the next moment. Especially since he was getting more and more worked up about meeting this Lorne.

After what seemed like a thousand guests, Teyla smiled knowingly and sat him down on a table with just one other man. “And this is Squire Lorne. If you’ll excuse me I have many guests to attend too.” She said discretely and left them to it.

Kavanagh took his time eyeing Lorne. At least he was attractive. But he looked far too much like one of his mother’s idiot goons. He sighed dramatically to himself.

“So we’ve got to get married for the sake of our countries. Can I suggest that we try it out, consummate the marriage, perhaps several times to ensure it’s legitimacy and if it doesn’t work we can be housemates. Teyla won’t mind and your Queen is too far and too ignorant to notice.” Lorne said after a long moment of awkward silence. His tone was even and conversational and there was just the barest hint of amusement in his soft brown eyes.

Despite himself, Kavanagh found he was looking forward to this marriage. Or at least the consummation of it.

6. You’ve got mail
Dr. Kavanagh’s laptop beeped to indicate he had a new email message. Normally, he was incredibly diligent about using work time and resources to check personal messages or other such frivolous activities but he had been eagerly waiting for this one for a few days.

Glancing around to make sure no one was looking, he opened his inbox. And smiled when he saw one new message from <3violins. He clicked it open.

Dear H2SO4andhappy,

Sorry I took such a long time to reply – I’ve been away on another one of my mysterious work trips. ;)

Anyway I agree with everything you’ve said. We have been chatting for several months now and I really feel like I’ve gotten to know you. Ok, maybe not your name, age, what you do, what you look like – but all the important things we know. *g*

I think it is a good time to meet. I for one would like to see you try to defend the Boston Celtics in person rather than hiding behind the security of a computer screen!

Do you know Pulpit Rock Park in Colorado Springs? How about a picnic on Sunday about 12? I’ll wait for you under the large oak tree close to the baseball diamond.

Barring any work emergencies, I’ll see you there.

Yours truly,

He quickly hit the reply button, confirming he knew where it was and agreed to meet there, again, barring any work emergencies.

He’d never been all that good at the dating thing, which is why, in a fit of insanity, late on a lonely Saturday evening he’d visited the ‘Colorado Springs singles’ chat room. That’s when he’d meet <3violins. He had a lot of fun talking to her, discovering that they had plenty in common, from the comfort of his own home. They met online several times after that and exchanged emails. They even had a few AIM chats on the rare occasions they’d both managed to be online at the same time.

He’d never believed in soulmates or any of that other new age crap. But only a couple of weeks in, he had begun to change his mind. He’d never met anyone, physically or otherwise, who understood his wit and humour. Anyone who made him laugh in return. Just hearing from his online friend brightened up his day.

The week passed in a flurry of excitement, his heart beating slightly faster every time he thought out the upcoming get-together.

On Sunday, he arrived at the designated place a little early. He’d actually been shopping and was wearing the dark jeans and light brown v-neck t-shirt that Laura, the shop assistant had insisted bought out his eyes. His hair was tied back in a looser ponytail than he usually had, which allowed some of the thick curls to fall free.

There was some other guy, pretty good-looking he admitted reluctantly, in the exact spot he’d wanted to meet her. He glared at him but only got a pleasant smile in return so he stood a few metres away. Hopefully she wouldn’t be more drawn to the other man, maybe they should have agreed on some sort of identifiers.

He waited. Ten minutes went by, but that was okay he’d arrived early. 20 minutes, it was fine, women were renowned for being late. 30 minutes, the other man walked towards him with an awkward smile. “Looks like we’ve both been stood up.”

Kavanagh shrugged. “I guess. She’s really busy with her work. I’m sure there’s a good reason.”

The man nodded enthusiastically, “yeah, I know what you mean. She’s a brilliant scientist working on something massive, I’m sure she just got detained.”

“Really?” Kavanagh asked, his interest peaked. “In what field?”

“Chemistry, I think.” He replied, the ever present smile turned a little embarrassed. “I’ve not actually met her before. Just talked online.”

“Online? Chemistry?” Kavanagh stuttered. “Oh god! Please tell me you’re not heartsviolins?”

The other man’s face dropped. “H2SO4andhappy? You said you were a woman!”

“I did not! You said you were!” Kavanagh retorted angrily.

“No I didn’t!” The man replied, just as annoyed.

“‘Hearts violins?’ What kind of a guy has a name like that? You led me to believe you were a woman.”

“I like to play? Why the hell would I mislead you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you’ve got some weird kink?”

The man paused to take a breath, looking like he was fighting against the urge to punch him. Involuntarily Kavanagh took a step back. “Look obviously there’s been some misunderstanding. Let’s just go and pretend this never happened.”

“You were a lot nicer online.” The man muttered as he walked away.

Four days, 7 hours and 21 minutes later – not that he was counting or anything – there was another new message beep on Kavanagh’s laptop.

Hey H2SO4andhappy – Sorry, I didn’t catch your real name.

So you’re a guy and I’m a guy. Would it really be so bad?

Nick Lorne

7. Man! I Feel Like A Woman!
Dr. Carly Kavanagh was a workaholic. She was also a moody bitch. It wasn’t easy being a woman and a scientist and to get the positions she wanted she had to be tough. She made no excuses for that. It did mean her personal life was pretty much non-existent. She hadn’t even had a date since her high school prom, and even that was with her cousin Calvin, who took pity on her.

When she was asked to head the chemistry department on the elusive Atlantis mission, she jumped at the chance. She never regretted it either. Ok, McKay was a pain in the ass, Zelenka was nothing more than his lapdog and she didn’t get talked to much. But the work more than made up for it.

She was running an analysis on the volatile properties of the compound that Colonel Jane Sheppard’s team had bought back from their latest mission, when she noticed a scuttling noise behind her. She turned out to see one of those vile Iratus bugs that their resident physiologist insisted they kept, coming straight towards her. The fear froze her in place and she saw her whole life flash before her eyes: work, work, Carrington award, more work.

Before she could reflect on her choices, she was quite literally swept off her feet by the dashing Major Lorne. He set her back down again once the bug ran past. “You’re going to be fine.” He reassured her and then chased after the creature before she’d even managed a response.

She sought him out over the next few weeks. Subtly getting him to invite her to coffee, then lunch, then dinner. Of course they were all in the crappy Atlantis mess hall, but it was a start. Eventually he bought the food down to his quarters and asked her to join him. They skipped dinner that night. It wasn’t long after that that he asked her to move in.

About a year later he asked her to marry him. He’d always been a gentleman and this was no different. He’d flown them up in a puddle jumper in the middle of the night. On screen, Atlantis’ lights made it shine against the dark velvety water and the starry night. He placed the ship on autopilot in a geosinchronous orbit about the planet and spread out the picnic he’d prepared. He’d even managed to get a hold of a nice bottle of champagne. She’d said yes, of course, a little teary-eyed from the emotion.

A few years later, Lorne was promoted and given a plush assignment back on Earth. Carly went with him, taking up her position with the SGC again. They had a beautiful little girl. Things were good. They were all happy and she never once regretted her choices.

But she could never shake the sneaking suspicion that Lorne was in fact gay.

8. It’s raining men!
Dr. Kavanagh opened the card and cursed loudly. McKay had the bloody nerve to invite him to his party for winning the Wolf Prize. That man didn’t deserve the accolade at all. Anyone who made as many wild, and dangerous, guesses as McKay was bound to get lucky once or twice. Kavanagh was much more meticulous and thorough in his own work, but that continued to go unnoticed.

He cursed again as he re-read the invite. “Dr. Kavanagh and guest.” McKay had finally gotten Zelenka to sleep with him and now he was rubbing in the fact that not only had he not won the prize, he also hadn’t had a date in over a year.

He’d show him, he thought doggedly to himself as he wrote the RSVP. Not only was he going to go, he was going to turn up with the most stunning partner in the whole place.

It was that attitude that led him to the charity Bachelor Auction, Simpson had been babbling excitedly about all week. 14 men for sale, the highest bidder could demand the presence of their acquisition for any one event. Plus all the proceeds went to the Weir fund for completely unemployable diplomats. He hadn’t heard of that charity, but it sounded worthwhile.

All of the men were attractive; there was no doubt about that but Kavanagh had worked out a sensible and reasonable budget of $300. One by one the men appeared and each time he was outbid. Damn, some of these people must be even more desperate than he was.

Number 8 was introduced as Nick Lorne, a pilot. He was similar to the others, well number 5 – Ronon - had been in his own category of good looks but this one was not bad either. There was something else about him though, some extra charm in his smile or maybe just the vibe of confidence and ease he was projecting.

It made him forget about his limit completely. He was at $428 when, Grodin, their host asked Nick to take of his jacket. The bids came in strong and fast after that. But he found he couldn’t stop.

In the end the bidding was just between him and another tall, blonde man with ‘David’ on his nametag. He looked like he was still in college. Kavanagh won eventually but ended up shelling out $879. This was going to be the most expensive date ever, but as Nick came off stage and flamboyantly kissed his hand wearing a schoolboy grin, he decided it would be worth every quarter.

On the night of the party, he’d gotten his long hair trimmed so it looked neat and had put in the contacts he used so rarely because of the hassle. He was wearing a black three-piece suit with a grey necktie. It was incredibly uncomfortable, but he wanted to look the part. Nick picked him up from his apartment in a luxury limousine as they had arranged. Nick looked a lot more comfortable in his dark trousers and stylish white shirt.

“Calvin – can I call you Calvin? – you look like you’re going to a funeral.” He complained as he walked in. “Let’s see, we can get rid of this….and this.” He said as he removed the tie and the waistcoat. “There much better.” He said, happy with his results before Kavanagh even had time to process what was happening.

“I would prefer Dr. Kavanagh and I don’t think you understand - ”

“I understand, Calvin. You explained it several times the other night; sent me three emails and left me two voice messages since then. I’ll make you look good, you just have to trust me.”

He really should have trusted him. Nick was a big hit at the party. Half of the attendees tried to flirt with him, including McKay, who couldn’t stop bragging about his stupid new prize. Nick was pleasant and charming, but kept an arm around Calvin’s waist like the token boyfriend he was. It made Calvin a lot more popular by association and he was almost sad when people started to leave, signalling the party was over.

They rode back in almost silence and the limousine pulled up outside Kavanagh’s apartment first. “So, thank you. I’m sure the unemployed diplomats will appreciate your sacrifice.” He said awkwardly clearing his throat. “Ok so…yeah…bye.”

Nick chuckled. “No problem. I had fun.” He grabbed Calvin’s wrist, stopping him from leaving. “Maybe we could do it again sometime.” Without waiting for an answer he closed the small distance between them and kissed him.

The driver, a John Sheppard, smiled knowingly and put up the screen between the front and back seats.

9. Most Wanted
“Whatever Weir accused me off it’s not true. She’s a manipulative harpy who wants to see my career ended.” Dr. Kavanagh pleaded his case, breathing heavily and leaning against the back wall of the dank alley.

Four days ago, when the FBI agents had bust in to his lab in Colorado, guns held out in front of them, he’d ran, having a pretty good idea what it was about. He’d managed to get further than he expected before one of them had caught up with him.

“Doctor Calvin Kavanagh, I’m arresting you on suspicion of professional espionage and leaking state secrets to enemy nations.” The agent, he remembered as Lorne, droned on, unmoved by his little speech.

“Are you dense or something?” He answered irritably. “I told you I’m innocent.”

“Well then you have nothing to worry about.” Lorne responded smoothly.

“Oh yeah right, because we live in such a just and fair society where good always prevails and evil is punished.” Kavanagh muttered under his breath.

Lorne smirked but still handcuffed him and led him back to the car. “I’m just doing my job.” He pushed Kavanagh into the back of the car. “But for what it’s worth, I don’t think you did what they’re saying you did.”

Kavanagh looked up at him, suspicion obvious in his features. “You don’t know me.”

“I know the case and I’ve been tailing you for days, learning your patterns and habits, I think you’d be surprised at how well I know you.” Lorne replied, getting into the front of the car.

“Well that’s…chilling.” Kavanagh muttered, earning a laugh from Lorne.

The field office was several hours away and Kavanagh, panicking, talked for much of the way. He started off explaining, in minute detail how and why he was innocent, which Lorne wasn’t disagreeing with in the first place. Then he moved laboriously onto why it was not going to be a fair trial and in the lack of evidence, the jury would side with Weir. As much as he hated to admit it Lorne couldn’t disagree with that either.

After driving for a while, they stopped in front of a seven-eleven. “Bathroom break,” Nick explained sheepishly, opening the back door to talk to Kavanagh directly. Kavanagh rolled his eyes. “Take as long as you need. I’m in no hurry.” He called after him.

He leant his head back against the head rest and tried to move his arms a bit, they were getting uncomfortable in the handcuffs. The bright mid-afternoon sun streamed in from the window and it caused something next to him to glitter and reflect into his eyes. He turned to see the small key for the handcuffs.

Shocked, he didn’t do anything but stare at it for a moment. It couldn’t have been there before, he would definitely have noticed. Aware of the time constraint, he started to awkwardly move his hands toward it. With the way it was placed, it wasn’t hard for him to pick it up even whilst handcuffed. Using his teeth, he inserted it into the lock and released the handcuffs.

He wasn’t surprised to find that the door was also unlocked and he slipped out, trying to conceal his exit. He had run a few yards, when he turned back. Without really knowing why, he took out the small folded article of him winning ‘scientist of the year’ that he kept in his wallet and threw it on Lorne’s seat.

Then he turned and left. This time it was for good.

10. The wind does not respect a fool.
Multi-millionaire Penn Kavanagh looked over the personal plane, the Daedalus, his newest acquisition. Using public air transport took far too long and for someone as important as he was, this would turn out to be much more efficient.

He lined up a series of interviews with some potential pilots. First was Jack O’Neill. He had impressive qualifications and an overconfident manner that Kavanagh approved of. But at the end of the interview his verdict was, “sorry, you’re too old. I don’t want you having a heart attack mid-flight. Next.”

Next was a John Sheppard. He walked in wearing jeans and a tiny little black t-shirt, leaned back on his seat and drawled out his words. He did talk impressive math though. Kavanagh just shook his head. “Thanks, I wasn’t looking for a lackadaisical surfer bum.”

After him was Cameron Mitchell. He had the appearance of a cute young boy and the charm of a politician. “No…just no.” Kavanagh said almost as soon as he’d walked it and pointed to the door.

Penn was beginning to despair, until Evan Lorne walked in. He had an easy smile and oozed poise. Kavanagh was pretty sure he was going to hate him. But he was running out of options and according to his record the man really could fly. “Fine, you’re hired. Don’t let it get to your head.”

The following weeks and months passed easily enough. Kavanagh really liked his new plane and flew everywhere within reason. Evan never complained because it gave him more time doing what he loved.

Everything was going great, until one night when flying back from an eminent conference in New York, they got stuck in a terrible storm. The plane rocked wildly and despite his seatbelt, Kavanagh was thrown around the seat.

Evan did his best to fight the storm, but eventually lost control and the plane started descending at high speed in a spiralling path. “I can’t believe I’m going to die before I’ve even had sex.” Kavanagh shouted in his fear.

Lorne looked up from his control panel. “You’ve never had sex? What, with all your money and power?”

“I’ve had more important things to worry about.” Kavanagh yelled back defensively. “And can you concentrate on the plane. PLEASE!”

Lorne smirked. “I’ve had sex on every continent.” He replied, unflustered as he played with the controls, trying to use the wind force in their favour.

“Great. I hired a slut.” Kavanagh replied closing his eyes and grabbing the arm rests tightly. It took him several moments to realise the flight had smoothed out a bit, not much, but there was a discernible difference. Cautiously he opened his eyes.

“I’m on top of it for the moment, but I’m finding some place to land.” Lorne announced.

It was not the easiest of landings, but they were all still in one piece at the end of it. Evan moved to the rear compartment. “Thank you for flying with us, we hope you enjoyed your flight.” He said amused, walking over to where Kavanagh was still frozen to his seat. Lorne moved close enough to pull the lever, which turned Kavanagh’s seat horizontal and then climbed on top of the other man.

“There’s no way you can be horny right now!” Kavanagh protested, his voice still shaky.

“Try me.” Evan replied, kissing his employer. His hands easily found their way under Penn’s shirt and stroked his clammy skin, soothing and caressing.

“Yes…But I am not a - ” Kavanagh breathed out when the kiss finally ended. The rest of his objection was lost as Lorne gently took his mouth again.

11. Do your kids a favour - don't have any.
Calvin Kavanagh sat down on the floor, cross-legged, covered in various different colours of paint. His usually neatly kept long hair, was sticking out in various little pigtails, tied with yellow and pink ribbons. “How on Earth did I get myself into his?” He muttered under his breath. But his boss’ daughter had sharper hearing than he’d expected.

“You told Mummy you would play with me. And if you don’t I’m going to tell her you were mean and then you’ll lose your job.” The little brat replied. Calvin looked down at the little Weir and pasted on a forced smile. “Like mother, like daughter.”

There was a knock on the door and Jazlyn ran to answer it. Calvin followed more slowly. When he got there, Jazlyn was gleefully hugging a man he hadn’t seen before.

“And you are?” Calvin asked harshly.

The man looked past the little girl in his arms and chuckled at the sight, before badly attempting to cover his amusement. “Nick Lorne. I live next door. You must be Calvin. Elizabeth asked me to check in on you.”

“Dr. Kavanagh.” He replied stiffly. “I’m not some teenage babysitter that you can automatically be on a first name basis with.”

Nick grinned but before he could reply, Jazlyn tugged at his hand. “Uncle Nick, Uncle Nick, come play with us. We’re dressing up Dr. Kav.”

This time he didn’t bother to hide his laughter. “Sure, sounds like fun.”

To Kavanagh’s amazement, Jazlyn actually seemed to listen to Nick. “I come from a large family.” Nick said in response to Calvin’s bewildered look. The morning seemed to speed up after that.

“Who wants to go to Atlantis for lunch?” Nick suggested around midday, referring to Jazlyn’s favourite seafood place in the high street.

She perked up at that and nodded vigorously. “Me! Me! I do! Please Uncle Nick.” Nick smiled and nodded. “Ok, go get your stuff together and watch some cartoons while Dr. Kav and I get ready.” Jazlyn ran to her bedroom and Nick dragged Calvin to the downstairs bathroom.

“You should probably clean up before we go.” He suggested with a small snicker.

Kavanagh rolled his eyes at him and batted away Nick’s hands from his hair. “Yes, thank you. I have two PhDs. I think I can manage.” Nick only grinned in reply and continued to help him.

“You’re covered in this stuff. I think you need a shower.” He said out of the blue, locking the door and starting to remove Calvin’s clothing.

“Uhhh…what do you think you’re doing?” Kavanagh replied in surprise.

“You’re the ones with the PhDs, figure it out.” Nick answered without a hint of amusement for the first time, as he dropped the other man’s pants.

The shower had been painfully quick, but still a lasting memory. Lunch and everything between that and Jazlyn’s afternoon nap was still a little hazy. “I’m only going to sleep if Uncle Nick comes too.” Jazlyn had said stubbornly.

Nick had responded just as stubbornly with “I’m only going to come if Dr. Kav does too.”

Elizabeth and Steven arrived back home to find Jazlyn, Nick and Calvin all cuddled up together, fast asleep.

12. There's a big world out there. Bigger than high school.
Calvin Kavanagh was a geek. He was president of the AV club, played chess in the state competitions and went to the Science club every Tuesday. Like all of the geeks, he spent most of his school day either being ridiculed or ignored by the jocks. His shoulder length hair, his mother insisted it looked handsome and wouldn’t allow him to cut it, made certain he got more than his fair share of swirlies too.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, he was also ridiculed and ignored by the geeks. All he’d done was suggest that Rodney’s science fair project of a working model of an atomic bomb might not be a good idea and could potentially be unsafe, years earlier. McKay really knew how to hold a grudge.

What really took the cake though was his crush on the star of the football team: Nick Lorne. Nick was popular, of course. But he was always nice. Ok, so it was more like he wasn’t not nice. Sometimes he even smiled at him in geography class, when the other jocks were busy falling asleep.

Once, Calvin tried out for the basketball team. He was the tallest in their class and he thought it might make Nick like him more. Turned out being able to play the stupid game required more than being tall and the ability to perfectly work out angles and trajectories.

When that didn’t work, he started going to football games so he could watch Nick play. He knew he didn’t have a chance. Leaving out the fact that he and Nick were worlds apart, Nick was also going out with Laura Cadman, captain of the girl’s soccer team and the prettiest girl in school. Rumour was she also had a mean left hook. It was probably a good idea not to get any ideas about moving in on her claim.

Calvin had gotten used to his life, thoughts of college and admiring Nick from afar were enough to keep him going. That was until Mrs. Weir, their do-good Principal interrupted and made things worse as usual. She insisted, under threat of holding him back a grade despite his perfect exam results, that he attended their senior prom, in order to develop some social skills.

The prom was every bit as bad as he’d expected. Everyone was so happy and coupley, even Rodney was holding hands with Katie Brown. He stood off to the side and tried to dodge all the times when the ghastly punch was ‘accidently’ flung in his direction. Naturally, Nick and Laura were the star couple and after their third nauseatingly slow dance together, he’d had more than enough and turned to leave.

“The soda seem safe to you?” A smooth voice, far more familiar than it had any right to be, stopped him. He turned back to gape at Nick, mouth opening and closing a few times.

“You talking to me?” He asked uncertainly, but managing to infuse it with the kind of dispassionate annoyance that only came from hours of practice.

“Yeah.” The boy replied with a charming smile and then lowered his voice, conspiratorially. “It’s always a good idea to ask the smart ones first.”

Despite himself, Calvin found he was smiling back. “Well it’s certainly a safer bet than the punch.” Nick nodded and poured some out into two paper cups. Calvin watched him for a long heartbeat and then turned back to leave again. For the second time, he was stopped by Nick’s lilting voice.

“Don’t you want it?” He said, holding out one of the cups for him.

“Oh…I…I thought it was for your girlfriend.”

Nick glanced back to the dance floor where Laura was now dancing very intimately with John. “Laura? Nah, she’s an old friend. She wanted some help in getting John to notice her. I think it worked.” He answered with a fond smile. He turned back to Calvin and for a moment that smile was directed towards him. He was still holding out the drink and Calvin eagerly stepped forward to take it, tripping over his feet in the process and landing straight into Nick, both drinks spilling all over them.

“OH GOD! I’m so sorry.” He cried, frantically trying to get his balance again. He couldn’t even enjoy how amazing Nick’s solid heat felt under him. “I’m really, really sorry.” He muttered again, talking directly to Nick’s ruined white shirt, not able to meet his eyes. “It was an accident. Really. I could give you some money for a new shirt.”

He didn’t even wait for an answer just started to fumble with his pockets. “Hey relax.” Nick replied, his tone startlingly gentle. “It’s no problem. I’m sure my mom can get it out.” His hand rested on Calvin’s wrist, stopping his frenzied motions, almost stopping his breathing. “I only live around the corner and my parents are out for the night. You could come and get cleaned up.” He suggested completely offhandedly.

Calvin stared at him for a moment, half expecting it to be some sort of cruel joke but Nick wasn’t laughing and none of his group had jumped out of him so he nodded guardedly, still not really believing it.

He was in a similar state of incredulity when they arrived at Nick’s house and was shocked to find he couldn’t remember a thing about how they’d gotten there. He prayed desperately that he hadn’t done anything to embarrass himself further and followed Nick to the kitchen.

The other boy took off his tuxedo jacket, flinging it on the back of the nearest chair, loosened his tie and started undoing the buttons for his shirt. Calvin urgently averted his gaze, being beaten up for being queer was the last thing he needed so soon after Nick was actually talking to him. He observed the symmetry of the brown leafy patterned wallpaper, counted the number of tiles around the sink, anything to stop from staring at the subject of so many of his wet dreams unfolding in front of him.

“You can shove yours in the machine too. I’m sure I can find something that’ll fit you upstairs.” Nick’s voice drew him out of his reverie and he looked back at him to find him bare-chested, a light smattering of hair covering his impressive pectoral muscles. Nick watched Calvin watch him and then grinned, wide and open. “Yeah I thought so.” He muttered, pulling him close by the collar on his shirt.

Before Calvin had a chance to question it, Nick was kissing him, closed-mouthed, unobtrusively. And yet it was the best thing Calvin had ever felt. Far, far better than anything he’d fantasised about. Because it was real and happening.

The kiss lengthened and deepened and Nick’s hand started to work on removing Calvin’s soiled shirt, gently caressing him as he did. It took quite a few more kisses and Nick palming him through his trousers to realise that he could touch too.

Once he’d started, neither of them could stop. Before he knew it they were jerking each other off. He felt as if the room, god his entire life, was spinning out of control. It was frantic and desperate strokes, sparing no thought for finesse. If he’d thought the kissing was the best thing ever, it had nothing, nothing on this.

Afterwards, Nick handed him a shirt, which was ridiculously short for him but he put it on and left without either of them saying much.

The weekend passed in a blur of memories and indistinct sensations to the point where he wasn’t even sure it hadn’t just been an amazing dream. On Monday, he made sure he acted completely normal, ignoring everyone around him as usual. In the morning, when Nick and his usual gang were on the way to his class, he went the long way around. During geography class he didn’t even glance at Nick once. At lunch, he carefully meandered around the oddly arranged tables to sit at his normal one in the back, by himself. Except Nick called out to him, “hey Calvin, come join us.”

This was it, he thought to himself. The butt of the joke was about to be revealed. Still Nick had asked and he couldn’t ever turn him down. So slowly, with the tray shaking slightly in his hands, he made his way to their table and took the free seat next to Nick.

Nick smiled warmly at him. “You guys know Calvin right. He’s cool.” With that he dived straight back into finishing off the story he was telling about the time Bates talked him into racing go-carts in Mr. Caldwell’s learner ed room like they’d been friends forever. Not surprisingly, it kind of felt that way to Calvin too.

13. Born by chance, Royal by chance, Ass by choice.
Prince Kavanagh was to marry Princess Elizabeth. It had been arranged when he was four. He had known it his entire life. There were several problems with the plan, not least of all, he was more turned on by pond scum than Elizabeth, but he’d dealt with it using the truly royal coping mechanism of denial.

But now the date of the dreaded nuptial was fast approaching and the topic was getting hard to avoid. Every time he walked into the sunroom, his mother was discussing floral arrangements. Cook asked him for catering preferences at each meal. People he really didn’t like where flying in from all across the world to wish him felicitations.

“I don’t know what to do.” He confided to his personal attendant, Lorne.

“Maybe you should just say 'I don’t want to get married'”. Lorne suggested sensibly, his calm council as always.

Kavanagh flashed him ‘how much of a moron are you’ look number 31. Lorne had long since learnt to decipher the subtle difference between all of his master’s looks. “That won’t work. I need something big. Something that will shock everyone into leaving me…”

He paused mid sentence as an idea struck. He looked Lorne up and down slowly, like an art buyer critically appraising a piece. “You’ll do.” He muttered to himself and then moved into the other man’s space, kissing him.

Lorne, who had secretly always harboured inappropriate feelings for his sovereign, kissed him back eagerly, greedily lapping into his mouth.

The next day (it took that long for them to leave the royal bedroom) Prince Kavanagh announced he was gay and marrying his aide.

His father was incredibly disappointed and declared that upon his death his son shall only inherit one half of his wealth, of course that was enough to sustain a small country. His mother was incredibly disappointed and complained that the flowers would no longer match the outfits and that all of the invites had to be rewritten.

No-one was ever quite sure what happened to Princess Elizabeth, but there were rumours that she eloped with Teyla, her handmaiden.

Prince Kavanagh and his husband lived happily ever after.

14. The one where I ran out of ideas…
Once upon a time, on not so-high seas, far, far away, there lived this pirate known only as Captain Scorpio, because of the rather unique arrangement of his hair. Captain Scorpio was as fierce and as mean as pirates could be. He’d stop his great ship, the Arsenium, at port towns to loot and plunder all the good townspeople’s belongings. He’d take the men and put them to work. Except for the ones that struck his fancy, he kept those for his own personal use.

It was in one such town, like so many others that he’d ravaged, where his fate was to change forever. One brave, or more likely foolish, young man named Lorne stood his ground and refused to let Scorpio pillage Atlantis, his small waterside home. Scorpio having never seen such bravery before, or such attractive looks, fell instantly and madly in love. Lorne, for some totally inexplicable reason that would become one of the great mysteries of the future, returned those affections.

Now Scorpio, seeing the evilness of his ways, gave up his ship, changed his name to Kavanagh and settled down with the courageous Lorne. They both lived happily ever after. Until Kavanagh died of scurvy 6 months later.
Tags: fanfic100, lorne/kav

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