Summary: "I'd really like to see Carson waking up with Rodney in his arms, having no idea what happened last night." Obviously, I can’t resist noctuabunda :D
Disclaimer: Yes, they all belong to me, especially Rodney. Then I wake up.
Notes: This is a sequel to Circumstantial Evidence. Thanks to everyone who commented on that and encouraged me to write more. You guys rock.
Thanks to azicrow for the beta.
Carson was forced into consciousness by his head, which was thrumming in pain. The physician in him was forming diagnoses before the rest of him was even fully awake. ‘An early morning headache, maybe some sort of SOL; surely there would have been some sort of warning signs though. I’d rate this bloody thing a 10 on the severity scale, could be a SAH. I’ve not got any of the risk factors for an aneurysm but maybe trauma induced. Oh yes, that makes perfect sense. The Colonel dragged me on another away mission, complete with not so friendly natives. I’ve been hit on the head and am going to die slowly on some god forsaken alien planet. The only flaw with that theory is this doesn’t feel like the floor of most alien prison cells, actually it feels a lot like my own bed.’ He licked his lips and noticed how dry they were. ‘Retrograde amnesia, drying of the oral cavity and an early morning headache. I’m hung-over,’ he released with a start. ‘It’s bad, worse than that night after finals.’
He’d managed to accept his diagnosis and prescribe more sleep as the best possible treatment, without even needing to open his eyes, so he allowed his mind to drift off again. Just as he was blissfully on the edge of awareness, he registered another odd sensation. A strange heaviness across his waist that shouldn’t be there. It took him another few minutes to realise it was an arm. He quickly opened his eyes in panic to see Rodney smiling down at him. Not the usual ‘I’m so much smarter than you all’ smug smile, but one of the rare genuine smiles that made his face light up and his eyes sparkle.
“Umm hello,” he said, feeling pretty pathetic.
“Hey,” Rodney answered back, the smile still in place.
“I’m not wearing any clothes.” He stated after he noticed he was wearing nothing but his very thin boxers.
“No. You said that’s how you prefer to sleep.” Rodney replied matter-of-factly, way too calmly for Rodney under the best of circumstances, but in the current situation it worried Carson very much.
He took a moment to gather himself and tried to match the calm tone. “I see. And the reason you’re not wearing any?”
“You took them off.”
“Oh, I did, did I?” Carson asked, completely failing to keep the panic from his voice.
“Yes, you were quite insistent.”
“Oh, I was, was I?” He almost yelled back, on the verge of hysteria.
“I was completely swept away. I did try to slow you down, to talk about it sensibly but you just did not want to listen. You kept babbling about how handsome I am and how long you’ve wanted me for.” Rodney deadpanned.
Carson blushed and looked away. It was true, he mused, he had wanted Rodney. He couldn’t even place how long ago it started. He hadn’t noticed when the casual discussions over genetics and Ancient technology in the mess had turned into heated arguments about whether Spock or McCoy was the better character and when that had moved to just eating their meals quietly together; talking about nothing much in particular, just enjoying each other’s company. What had really shaken him was when his fantasies changed from centring on one of the lovely lasses he’d been with in the past to the over bearing, bad tempered, insensitive scientist who’d become his dearest friend.
“You were not nearly this quiet last night. What with all the moaning and praising of the Lord.” Rodney mocked, bringing Carson out of his reverie. He reluctantly looked back at Rodney. “I’m truly sorry for anything that happened last night. I honestly don’t remember anything after Dr. Kavanagh took his shirt off.”
“Consider yourself lucky,” Rodney muttered before continuing, “so you don’t remember any of...what happened, between us?”
“No, Rodney, I’m sorry I don’t.”
“You called me ‘luv’ last night,” Rodney pouted, melodramatically.
Rodney didn’t think it would have been possible, but Carson’s blush deepened. “So we...did we...I mean…you know...” Carson stuttered cursing the haze that was still clouding his thought processes.
“We slept together,” Rodney filled in innocently, somehow managing to keep from laughing.
Carson babbled nervously, ranting about the appropriateness of such a relationship considering they were both working closely with military personnel; the negative affect it would have on their friendship and possibly their friendship with other people. He skipped from topic to topic, his sentences mainly incomplete and several of his words incoherent. He was aware he was doing so, but obviously he had developed a strange form of Wernicke's dysphasia, since he was completely unable to stop.
That was until Rodney climbed on top of him, pushing him back against the wall, and straddled his thighs. He cupped Carson’s face with one hand and wrapped the other around the back of his neck. He leaned closer towards the other man and kissed him deeply, trying to convey all his emotions through that simple gesture. The lack of response caused him to move back slightly, but only enough to give Carson time to catch up. He was right, as usual, Carson didn’t need much encouragement to move towards him again and resume the kiss, desperate and needy.
They finally parted, when the need for oxygen became unavoidable. Rodney was reluctant to let go completely, sucking on Carson’s lower lip and running his thumb gently across his cheekbone instead.
“Wow,” Carson said, breathlessly, all his earlier nervousness forgotten.
“Yeah, not bad for a first kiss,” Rodney grinned, moving only far enough to be able to look at him.
“First kiss? We didn’t kiss last night?” Carson asked, genuinely confused.
“Oh relax, Carson, nothing happened. Apparently you can’t hold your drink. You were asleep before I could even begin to ravish you.” Rodney decided to give up the game so they could move on to more important things.
Carson thought about arguing or possibly smothering the man with a pillow but decided the best course of action would be to just allow the ravishing. He always had been proud of his reasoning.