I love how a little bit on edge they both are, John feeling so out of place until suddenly he comes across this guy and his salt. And mmm caramel kisses.
And John is so scuffy and salt-of-the-earthy! Eeee! And this has a feel of something that keeps going, you know?
After the demonstration and the thousand other things Rodney has to do, after John has made sure Teyla doesn't need help to reload her van (Ronon is there and communicates both "go away now" and "I totally see through you," without actually saying either of those things, which kind of freaks John out a little) he puts his iphone on mute and steps back to his slouching corner, just at the edge of Rodney's sight line.
He doesn't miss the small, pleased smile Rodney is trying to suppress or how the browbeating of his latest potential client shades from barely leashed irritation to mild condescension, and by the time he's helped three more clients, he's mellowed out to amused sarcasm.
John readjusts his slouch, stretches his legs out and tucks his chin down, not even bothering to pretend he's not staring, not appreciating the show, and watches the color rise in Rodney's face, watches his hands dance faster and faster and watches until Rodney waves the last chef away with a business card and says, "So sorry, missed it, plane to catch."
He turns to John and says, "Well, are you going to help me close up here or what?" The snap in his voice is marred the way his voice cracks.
John smiles slowly and levers himself off the table. "Sure thing," he drawls, to counter Rodney's breathless rush.
They work well together, if not as quickly as either one of them would like because in packing up, their hands keep brushing. Each touch seems to shock them deeper into quiet.
But they don't stop. Rodney's hand rest on John's back as he points out where he's stashed his traveling cases, John reaches out to pull Rodney forward, hands tight on his biceps, when some jerk nearly crashes into the booth with an overloaded dolly.
Rodney stumbles forward, nearly into John's arms, and John is trying to remember how to pull away, say something witty like "whoops," when Rodney blurts, "You stayed."
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And John is so scuffy and salt-of-the-earthy! Eeee! And this has a feel of something that keeps going, you know?
After the demonstration and the thousand other things Rodney has to do, after John has made sure Teyla doesn't need help to reload her van (Ronon is there and communicates both "go away now" and "I totally see through you," without actually saying either of those things, which kind of freaks John out a little) he puts his iphone on mute and steps back to his slouching corner, just at the edge of Rodney's sight line.
He doesn't miss the small, pleased smile Rodney is trying to suppress or how the browbeating of his latest potential client shades from barely leashed irritation to mild condescension, and by the time he's helped three more clients, he's mellowed out to amused sarcasm.
John readjusts his slouch, stretches his legs out and tucks his chin down, not even bothering to pretend he's not staring, not appreciating the show, and watches the color rise in Rodney's face, watches his hands dance faster and faster and watches until Rodney waves the last chef away with a business card and says, "So sorry, missed it, plane to catch."
He turns to John and says, "Well, are you going to help me close up here or what?" The snap in his voice is marred the way his voice cracks.
John smiles slowly and levers himself off the table. "Sure thing," he drawls, to counter Rodney's breathless rush.
They work well together, if not as quickly as either one of them would like because in packing up, their hands keep brushing. Each touch seems to shock them deeper into quiet.
But they don't stop. Rodney's hand rest on John's back as he points out where he's stashed his traveling cases, John reaches out to pull Rodney forward, hands tight on his biceps, when some jerk nearly crashes into the booth with an overloaded dolly.
Rodney stumbles forward, nearly into John's arms, and John is trying to remember how to pull away, say something witty like "whoops," when Rodney blurts, "You stayed."
John shrugs. "Yeah."