![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
denyce posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
slashing_lorneRecipient: ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
smaragdbird
Title: Let's Play It Well.
Pairing: Lorne/Rodney
Rating: R
Summary: At heart, every critic is an artist, and every artist, a critic.
Prompt: Lorne's Art, Wedding.
Warnings: Language
Disclaimer: I do not own StarGate Atlantis.
Word Count: 1068
Author's Note: Snarky Lorne, as requested.
"It's my party and I'll die when I want to." Holding the playbill to his mouth, Lorne avoided Rodney's annoyed glance. This was not the place or time for such commentary, but really, he couldn't help himself. In all honesty, though, he'd probably be able to blame his companion.
On the stage, the woman finally fell to the floor. She only landed on her knees, though, clutching the poisonous goblet to her chest. Still, she lingered on.
Rolling his eyes, Lorne shifted to the right. "Good lord. The lease on this theater will expire before she does." Hearing a few snickers behind him, he felt his ears burn. Staring at the sticky floor, he tried not to let it spread to his cheeks.
Grabbing him by the arm, Rodney gave it a firm squeeze with a gentle clearing of his throat. It was his last warning. The next one would be a terrible scene.
For a second, Lorne considered making another comment. If it would get him out of the final fifteen minutes of this excruciating play, he was all for it. Who knew Hamlet could be so boring?
On stage, Queen Gertrude finally fell across the silk pillows meant to cushion her fall.
He thought she was done, then her legs started to twitch. That was the final straw. Eyes narrowing, he raised his hands to cup around his mouth. They never reached his chin. Pain, sharp and blunt, shot up his arm. Lorne cried out with a hiss and glared at Rodney.
"You ruin this for Jeanie, and I swear to all that's ancient and glowing, you're hitchhiking back to the Pegasus!" Hissed under his breath, Rodney's stormy expression promised intense and inventive retribution.
That sent a chill down Lorne's spine. Checking his watch, he noted how long it had been. This should have been the climatic scene. Everyone dies, the announcer makes his proclamation, then the curtains would close a final time. It should have been over twenty minutes ago. Well, it would have been if Rodney's drama queen of a sister would finally friggen die already!
"I wonder if Ronon's got his blaster..." He finished with a strangled grunt. The hand had slid right past his arm this time and gripped another part of his anatomy. "All right, point taken."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Hello, Major, how was the play?" For her part, Teyla sounded genuinely interested.
Had he not known better, Lorne would have accepted it at face value. But, she had seen it two weeks ago on opening day. He had lasted fourteen blissfully ignorant days until tonight. So, instead, he leveled the Athosian woman with a glare any Goa'uld would have envied.
Her only response was a slight upturn of her lips in the middle. "I see you have experienced the awe inspiring..."
"Can it, you know she was terrible and the only reason she's still doing it is because she's sleeping with the director." Shaking his head, he headed for the chow line. Of course, the taunting wouldn't end there, as he heard her footsteps behind him. "I'm not in the mood. I've got McKay's finger prints stamped into my balls and an irate boyfriend waiting in our quarters with low blood sugar."
"Oh, dear." There wasn't an ounce of sympathy in her voice. It was followed by a snicker.
Honest to god, he was close to just snapping and doing something foolish. "Do you have any idea how horrible it was?"
"Yes, I am quite aware, as you already are well aware." She reached past him to grab a glass of tea from the vendor. "Opening night was long, Major. She made five, what I am told are, curtain calls."
He snorted. That was definitely unbearable. Still. "Yeah, well, I got you beat. Tomorrow night is her final appearance; guess who has to sit with Rodney in support for ruining tonight's performance."
Gasping, she put a hand on his shoulder.
Shrugging it off, he charged forward in the line to the desserts. Rodney would kill him if he didn't bring him something sweet too.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
White was not an easy color to work with. Yet, when one had a limited selection, it would do in a pinch. Using the small straw, Lorne drew tiny circles over the canvass. When it twitched under his ministrations, he smacked Rodney on the hip. "Hold still."
"Bite me."
"Tempting." Cocking his head to the side, he examined the details of his galactic swirl. Coolwhip was a delicate medium. The difficult part when applying it to human flesh was keeping it from melting before he was done.
"You're supposed to be making this up to me. This is not sucking up. There's been no sucking of any kind." Rodney's annoyed sigh echoed in their bedroom. "When I agreed to allow you to eat that stuff off me, I figured there would be some actual sexual connectivity."
"That was the plan." Evan realized he sounded a little distracted, but it couldn't be helped. He was almost done.
Sticking the straw in his mouth, he examined the painting over his lover's stomach. There were fine hairs in the mix, disrupting the flow and pattern. He frowned. It would have to be covered. When he started to dig out the cherries and banana from his sundae, he heard Rodney clear his throat.
"And that's where I draw the line. Dessert topping is one thing, it washes off easily. But you're not the one who has to use a scrub brush to get fruit bits out of his body hair." Starting to sit up, Rodney curled to get off the bed.
"No!" Lorne placed a hand on the other man's chest to keep him in place. "Wait! I've almost got it!"
"Not happening." With a quick smack, Rodney knocked the hand away.
Lorne could only watch in disappointment as his unfinished masterpiece walked to the bathroom to be washed away. "Yeah, well, you just remember that next month when I don't show up for your cousin's wedding."
"You're going." Rodney waved a hand over the door sensor to make it slide shut.
Disappointed, he stared down at the bed. There were tiny drops from the coolwhip on the silk sheets. They were the only remnant of the painting that would never be complete. He sighed.
Flopping back on the bed, he wondered if the other greats had to deal with this.
THE END~
smaragdbirdTitle: Let's Play It Well.
Pairing: Lorne/Rodney
Rating: R
Summary: At heart, every critic is an artist, and every artist, a critic.
Prompt: Lorne's Art, Wedding.
Warnings: Language
Disclaimer: I do not own StarGate Atlantis.
Word Count: 1068
Author's Note: Snarky Lorne, as requested.
"It's my party and I'll die when I want to." Holding the playbill to his mouth, Lorne avoided Rodney's annoyed glance. This was not the place or time for such commentary, but really, he couldn't help himself. In all honesty, though, he'd probably be able to blame his companion.
On the stage, the woman finally fell to the floor. She only landed on her knees, though, clutching the poisonous goblet to her chest. Still, she lingered on.
Rolling his eyes, Lorne shifted to the right. "Good lord. The lease on this theater will expire before she does." Hearing a few snickers behind him, he felt his ears burn. Staring at the sticky floor, he tried not to let it spread to his cheeks.
Grabbing him by the arm, Rodney gave it a firm squeeze with a gentle clearing of his throat. It was his last warning. The next one would be a terrible scene.
For a second, Lorne considered making another comment. If it would get him out of the final fifteen minutes of this excruciating play, he was all for it. Who knew Hamlet could be so boring?
On stage, Queen Gertrude finally fell across the silk pillows meant to cushion her fall.
He thought she was done, then her legs started to twitch. That was the final straw. Eyes narrowing, he raised his hands to cup around his mouth. They never reached his chin. Pain, sharp and blunt, shot up his arm. Lorne cried out with a hiss and glared at Rodney.
"You ruin this for Jeanie, and I swear to all that's ancient and glowing, you're hitchhiking back to the Pegasus!" Hissed under his breath, Rodney's stormy expression promised intense and inventive retribution.
That sent a chill down Lorne's spine. Checking his watch, he noted how long it had been. This should have been the climatic scene. Everyone dies, the announcer makes his proclamation, then the curtains would close a final time. It should have been over twenty minutes ago. Well, it would have been if Rodney's drama queen of a sister would finally friggen die already!
"I wonder if Ronon's got his blaster..." He finished with a strangled grunt. The hand had slid right past his arm this time and gripped another part of his anatomy. "All right, point taken."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Hello, Major, how was the play?" For her part, Teyla sounded genuinely interested.
Had he not known better, Lorne would have accepted it at face value. But, she had seen it two weeks ago on opening day. He had lasted fourteen blissfully ignorant days until tonight. So, instead, he leveled the Athosian woman with a glare any Goa'uld would have envied.
Her only response was a slight upturn of her lips in the middle. "I see you have experienced the awe inspiring..."
"Can it, you know she was terrible and the only reason she's still doing it is because she's sleeping with the director." Shaking his head, he headed for the chow line. Of course, the taunting wouldn't end there, as he heard her footsteps behind him. "I'm not in the mood. I've got McKay's finger prints stamped into my balls and an irate boyfriend waiting in our quarters with low blood sugar."
"Oh, dear." There wasn't an ounce of sympathy in her voice. It was followed by a snicker.
Honest to god, he was close to just snapping and doing something foolish. "Do you have any idea how horrible it was?"
"Yes, I am quite aware, as you already are well aware." She reached past him to grab a glass of tea from the vendor. "Opening night was long, Major. She made five, what I am told are, curtain calls."
He snorted. That was definitely unbearable. Still. "Yeah, well, I got you beat. Tomorrow night is her final appearance; guess who has to sit with Rodney in support for ruining tonight's performance."
Gasping, she put a hand on his shoulder.
Shrugging it off, he charged forward in the line to the desserts. Rodney would kill him if he didn't bring him something sweet too.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
White was not an easy color to work with. Yet, when one had a limited selection, it would do in a pinch. Using the small straw, Lorne drew tiny circles over the canvass. When it twitched under his ministrations, he smacked Rodney on the hip. "Hold still."
"Bite me."
"Tempting." Cocking his head to the side, he examined the details of his galactic swirl. Coolwhip was a delicate medium. The difficult part when applying it to human flesh was keeping it from melting before he was done.
"You're supposed to be making this up to me. This is not sucking up. There's been no sucking of any kind." Rodney's annoyed sigh echoed in their bedroom. "When I agreed to allow you to eat that stuff off me, I figured there would be some actual sexual connectivity."
"That was the plan." Evan realized he sounded a little distracted, but it couldn't be helped. He was almost done.
Sticking the straw in his mouth, he examined the painting over his lover's stomach. There were fine hairs in the mix, disrupting the flow and pattern. He frowned. It would have to be covered. When he started to dig out the cherries and banana from his sundae, he heard Rodney clear his throat.
"And that's where I draw the line. Dessert topping is one thing, it washes off easily. But you're not the one who has to use a scrub brush to get fruit bits out of his body hair." Starting to sit up, Rodney curled to get off the bed.
"No!" Lorne placed a hand on the other man's chest to keep him in place. "Wait! I've almost got it!"
"Not happening." With a quick smack, Rodney knocked the hand away.
Lorne could only watch in disappointment as his unfinished masterpiece walked to the bathroom to be washed away. "Yeah, well, you just remember that next month when I don't show up for your cousin's wedding."
"You're going." Rodney waved a hand over the door sensor to make it slide shut.
Disappointed, he stared down at the bed. There were tiny drops from the coolwhip on the silk sheets. They were the only remnant of the painting that would never be complete. He sighed.
Flopping back on the bed, he wondered if the other greats had to deal with this.
THE END~
