.riffs, or, when aesc does kid!fic

[aesc]

slian_martreb admitted to me that, after yesterday's beach!fic she was imagining "a five year old Rodney and John, playing in the sand and making castles with Rodney being oh so particular about the placement of each grain before John divebombs a plane into it."

And so, because I'm apparently susceptible to suggestion, I wrote my first-ever piece of kid!fic. Oh my God. Riffs off of beach volleyball, only with sandcastles, and seven-year-olds. (Five-year-olds are completely alien to me.)


Once he'd managed to get the sand-to-water ratio perfect, he started building, if you could call sandcastles "building." At least the sand was holding together and the huge turrets of sand weren't collapsing, which was about the only thing that had gone right today.

Within about three seconds of setting foot on the beach, Rodney McKay had decided he hated it. A lot.

"We've spent a lot of money on this vacation, so you're coming with us," his mother had snapped when he'd begged to go back up to their hotel room. Even at seven and a half and three days, Rodney knew enough to know that air conditioning was much more enjoyable than sand and heat, and water that evaporated and left a sticky coating of salt on your skin, but his mother was impervious to logic.

Building sandcastles wasn't a complete waste of time, though. Completely ridiculous materials, of course--crude plastic tools, sand, nothing to measure with--but he sort of liked the challenge.

He wouldn't mind living in his sandcastle, come to think of it, behind a huge moat filled with alligators and great white sharks. With a drawbridge, with him safe in his turrets and his parents and Jeannie on the other side of the moat.

Just as he turned to look for the plastic spade to start digging said moat, he heard an unearthly eeeeeeeeeeeeee approaching swiftly, and just as he turned back to see what it was saw a whirlwind of dark hair, long arms and legs, plastic, and a huge grin.

"Direct hit!" shrieked the whirlwind as it picked itself up from the sand.

"My castle!" shrieked Rodney. Ruins.

"The F-4 Phantom never misses." The whirlwind by now had settled down into a boy around Rodney's age, skinny and unfortunately taller and probably capable of beating Rodney up, like most of the kids at school.

"You wrecked it." He glared at the other boy, who was dusting fragments of Rodney's castle off his model plane. "You wrecked my castle."

"Sorry," said the other boy, not sounding particularly sorry at all. He collapsed in a gangly heap next to Rodney and his ruined masterpiece. "It was a lousy castle anyway. Where're the guns?"

"They didn't have guns back then. Don't you know anything?" Rodney began to gather the sand into a pile so he could start again. "They had bows and arrows and stuff."

"Oh." The boy turned the plane over in his hands, as though contemplating what Rodney had said. "Maybe you should build a future castle, so you could have guns. Like on TV."

"Whatever." He scooped huge handfuls of sand into buckets, and hoped that, maybe if he ignored him, the kid would go away. The kid didn't budge, though, and even offered Rodney his name.

"Rodney," Rodney said sulkily. "Make yourself useful and hand that over."

John smacked the shovel into Rodney's hand, then reached for one of the other buckets and started filling that.

"You have to swear not to dive-bomb this," he told John in the tone he usually reserved for Jeannie. "Pinky swear."

They pinky swore on it, and John even parked the plane on a flat strip of sand that was supposed to be the runway. Rodney had to concede that, despite his wild hair and stupid remarks ("Where're the guns?"), John was pretty good at sandcastle-building, and John told him that his family came to this beach whenever his dad was back "stateside."

"We come here never," Rodney said. "This is our first time."

"Maybe you can come again next year," John said, which was a very stupid and hopeful thing to say, and Rodney thought about how we've spent a lot of money on this trip, which meant they'd probably be spending next summer with their grandparents.

He said yes, anyway, and John grinned, a huge dopey grin that Rodney had to tell him was huge and dopey, and John threw sand at him.

So Rodney had to throw sand back, and soon the castle was destroyed, but the F-4 Phantom was safe on its runway.

-end-

ETA: Find out what happens six years down the road in foxxcub's really freaking cool comment!fic!
ETA2: And another wonderful continuation by Anon!
ETA3: More! A two-parter, even, by cobweb_diamond.

This is fun :)

Comments

[chebonne.livejournal.com]

I don't know if I commented on this when you put it up on the comments before, but annnnyway.

Kid!Rodney! How adorable is that! And John, divebombing and them playing and... *melts into incoherent puddle by cuteness* awwwwww

[aesc.livejournal.com]

I can't quite believe I wrote this. *blinks* But I guess I did.

[inthekeyofd.livejournal.com]

It's funny because even then, they had the McShep banter going on..AND how freakin' cute are they!!!!

Oh, OH, they pinky swore...this is too adorable!!

[aesc.livejournal.com]

It's funny because even then, they had the McShep banter going on..

You know it! I kind of imagine Rodney and John being pretty much the same at four and forty in the fundamentals, at least.

Oh, OH, they pinky swore...this is too adorable!!

I thought for a second of having John suggest swearing over blood (in which you prick the pad of your index finger, the person you're swearing with does the same, and you press your fingers together), and Rodney rejecting it as being horrifying and unhygenic, but it seemed a bit much. Besides, everyone knows a pinky swear is inviolate.

[foxxcub.livejournal.com]

*meep!!!*

I feel like I've created a monster. A glorious, sand-filled, sun-warmed monster of awesome.

Also, I am not getting ANY WORK DONE because I'm just sitting here thinking of John and Rodney on beaches and playing volleyball and whatnot.

This is your fault.

[foxxcub.livejournal.com]

The following summer, John runs along the beach with his brand new plane and waits to catch a glimpse of a boy studiously building castles in the sand, his shoulders hunched in deep concentration, the tip of his tongue caught between his teeth.

But the faces on the beach are all new and not familiar, and he doesn't quite know what to call the emotion that bubbles up inside him. Years later, he'll learn to recognize the melancholy disappointment that follows hope and expectation.

It's not until the summer after he turns thirteen that he spots him, and it's strange how nothing's changed. Rodney's still sitting in the sand, only he's not building castles, he's reading a text book and rubbing his knuckles over his chin. Still lost in that intense concentration. He's thinner, his body longer, and John finds himself wondering if he can still look down at the top of Rodney's head when they stand face to face.

He doesn't approach him right away--after all, it's been so long, and maybe Rodney doesn't even remember him--just sort kicks around at the water's edge and pretends to be fascinated by the sailboat bobbing out in the distance. After several minutes, he's managed to end up not ten feet away from where Rodney's sitting.

Finally, with his cheeks feeling too hot, he calls it, "Hey."

Rodney's head jerks up and he blinks at him. Then, to John's ridiculous pleasure, his eyes go wide and he smiles the dorkiest smile John's ever seen.

"H-hey." He closes his book. "No plane?"

John shrugs and tries to play it cool. "Naw, not anymore. I mean, I've got nicer ones, ones that can't, y'know, get sand on 'em." He's trying desperately not to mimic Rodney's grin.

Rodney nods. "I was going to make a castle, but I think the tide's about to come in."

"'s probably better than studying, though." He gestures with his bare foot to the text book lying at Rodney's side in the sand.
It says Introduction to Elementary Physics on the spine.

"Probably."

"Um...I could help out." He shoves his hands in the back pockets of his swim trunks and hopes he sounds bored.

They don't have any shovels or pails or anything between them, just their hands. But Rodney still ducks his head and looks away, mumbles, "Yeah, okay," and John thinks his stupid family vacation is finally worth something.

[aesc.livejournal.com]

I feel like I've created a monster. A glorious, sand-filled, sun-warmed monster of awesome.

You totally have! I love it in all its sand-filled, sun-warmed awesomeness *glomp!*

[slian-martreb.livejournal.com]

Seven year old Rodney arms of yay:

\0/ \0/ \0/ \0/ \0/

[aesc.livejournal.com]

arms of yay

That's what they are! Oh my GOD am I dumb.

*facedesk*

[rain-dances.livejournal.com]

Ohhhhhhh...

I have gone completely stupid.

Boys.

So sweet.

I love how seven year old Rodney sounds exactly the same as he does now.

[aesc.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I think Rodney's one of those people who never really changes, he just becomes more himself :D

[yarnaddict.livejournal.com]

A-freakin'-dorable! =)

[aesc.livejournal.com]

Hee! Thank you! :D

[shara50.livejournal.com]

That was very awww worhty ;)

[aesc.livejournal.com]

Awww :D Thank you!

[mcalex22.livejournal.com]

Aw, I love kidfic! I love it that they still complement each other as kids despite the different personalities. John would be that kid with the airplane. Rodney would be the little one with fair hair, big blue eyes and an smug mouth... but soften by John.

Thanks - I love it!!!

[aesc.livejournal.com]

Thanks so much! I'm glad it came out well--and they probably would have driven each other just as crazy as kids as they do now :D

[khohen1.livejournal.com]

Okay so.... here's the thing. Am I crazy, or does this deserve it's own community? Because I just had to write my own (http://aesc.livejournal.com/265889.html?thread=3173793#t3173793), and I know I have a ton more to say, and it's jsut... it's crack-filled delight!!!

[aesc.livejournal.com]

Am I crazy, or does this deserve it's own community?

Maybe the former :D I didn't really imagine anything beyond the original ficlet, and the comment!fics have kind of developed in different directions. I just like sitting back and watching people bounce ideas around :D

[sloganeer.livejournal.com]

A future castle. Oh, John. Oh, boys.

[aesc.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I like the thought of John still "negotiating" with Rodney and trying to persuade him to see alternatives, while Rodney is still spiky and annoyed but reluctantly has to admit that John makes sense :D

[morebliss.livejournal.com]

OMG! I am so in love with you, for writing this, and all the other wonderous people who have left comment fics. It's making my heart all clenchy and squishy in the best way possible!

[ceares.livejournal.com]

Aww! Cute

[aesc.livejournal.com]

Hee! Thank you!

[dogeared.livejournal.com]

Eeeeee how cute is this!! Rodney's mashed castle is woeful but then there is pinky swearing and dopey grinning and A RUNWAY and gangly wee boys, and life is good, and you are adorable. :D

And also, re: team volleyball day, I think the first time Rodney sees John wearing the khakis, it's team movie night, and they're still pants. John digs them out of the bottom of a bag, and they're wrinkled, but they smell okay and seem clean, and they're really soft, and when Rodney sees them he mutters something about Ancient irons and reaches right over and pinches the fabric just above John's knee between his fingers, rubs it a little, and John's stomach flip-flops a couple of times. And he wears them a few more times after that, until a botany accident that leaves them stained purple to mid-shin, and then, even though he stops wearing them, he hangs onto them, sticks them in a drawer and forgets about them until months and months later, until he's trying to figure out the dress code for beach volleyball.

And also also, there're lots of beaches on Nantucket. 'm just saying. :>

[aesc.livejournal.com]

*smishes you and wriggles happily*

he hangs onto them, sticks them in a drawer and forgets about them until months and months later, until he's trying to figure out the dress code for beach volleyball.

That sounds like the perfect history for those khakis. I definitely envisioned them being the wonderful, worn kind that are going a bit threadbare around the pockets and zipper and frayed where they've been cut off, but are SO SOFT you can't get rid of them.

And speaking of volleyball and khakis, this is almost exactly what I was picturing, even if I didn't know it:



I had to do an icon because, aside from the akjdjlfjk;lk!, the screencap was pretty rough-looking. But he cleans up so well :D

[gaffsie.livejournal.com]

EEEEEeeee!

I'm sorry about the undignified screeching, but I'm just overcome by all the cuteness. :)

[aesc.livejournal.com]

Hee! I will take undignified screeching any day of the week :D

[lurkmuch.livejournal.com]

God, this is all so damn cute!

[aesc.livejournal.com]

Hee! Thanks so much! :D

[bitter-crimson.livejournal.com]

I really enjoyed this, ESPECIALLY all the different comment-fics taking it off in various directions. What fun.

[raiining.livejournal.com]

Oh! I have a weakspot for Kidfic, and I love the extensive comment fic everyone added to this! Wonderfully done :)

[aesc.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much! *hearts* The comment!fic really was great... I love people riffing off each other :)