denyce: (SGA: Sheppard)
[personal profile] denyce
Title: Laundry SGA style, or what I wrote to distract myself while waiting in-between cycles.
Author: Denyce
Fandom: SGA
Pairing: Lorne/Sheppard pre-slash
Rating: PG-13 smidge of language.
Summary: Sheppard and Lorne discuss the merits laundry
Word count: 659
Warning/spoilers: none
Disclaimer: Not mine; no infringement on any rights is intended. This is not for profit & is intended only for enjoyment.
Notes: Hugs & thanks out to [livejournal.com profile] amara_m for the beta



“You know…” John huffed in annoyance as he pulled the last of his wet clothes from the washer and hauled them over to a dryer and started shoveling them in. “one would think they could have come up with something a little less standard.”

Lorne chuckled, “You mean, a little less labor intense?”

John dropped the lid, so it slammed shut. “Exactly!”

Evan watched his commander manually set the correct temperature then placed his palm on the panel that’d activate and start the machine; a machine that for all intended purposes operated the same as any standard machine in any Laundromat on Earth would—minus the coin factor.

Biting back his laughter Evan added, “You could have had someone else do it for you…sir.”

“Right, pulling rank to clean my delicates…yeah like that order would’ve gone over well.”

Evan turned and mockingly asked, “Your delicates?” Even as he said it he couldn’t help but take in the view before him. His commander leaning over another washer…unable to stop himself his eyes trailed down, then lingered. His CO was barefoot wearing only a pair of nearly see-through thin gray sweats that hung loose. Making it painfully obvious that his commander was going commando in sweats that barely stayed in place covering his ass.

Not that John noticed, concentrating heavily on his task to start another load of laundry, John only caught the Lorne’s playful tease and responded in kind. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, and just who on this base would willing want to wash their commanders jocks?”

Feeling the tingle of heat warm his cheeks, Evan whipped back around to his own basket warring with himself to focus on the task before him—folding. But his traitorous mouth wouldn’t shut up and before he could stop himself, Evan added, “I would have.”

John crocked a brow, “Really?” Then dripping with sarcastic innuendo jokingly asked, “Have a secret urge to wash my delicates, major?”

Evan didn’t need a mirror to know he had to be sporting a full blush. It wouldn’t have been so bad if John, the Colonel he silently reprimanded himself, weren’t less then three feet away. From under lashes Evan saw him just standing there, bare-chested, grinning like an idiot.

Dipping his head down, Evan tried to hide without actually hiding, busying himself with the task at hand. Still images flooded his mind. Fantasies and desires he had worked hard to keep at bay, at least while on the job. Fantasies he only allowed to sprang up in the wee hours of the night when he was alone—in his bunk.

Suddenly unable to answer Evan just fumbled with a shirt, worrying his lip, and tried to relax. To just smile, be nonchalant and shrug it off. Even he knew, his attempt was way off target. Thankfully, John didn’t seem to notice or get the drift.

Still playing, John added, “Kinky.” Then was suddenly next to him, a basket full of clean unfolded clothes in hand. “Ok now don’t let it stop you whenever you have an urge, to you know” John leaned in closer and whispered conspiracy, “to wash my delicates…” he pulled back and started toward the door, his voice lighter barely holding back his jovial laughter, “just come and collect ‘em, major… Anytime.”

The doors swished open, “Anytime at all.” Then he burst out laughing just as the doors closed behind him.

It was just guys being guys, he knew that. Learned long ago how far he could-should take an innuendo. It was the blowing out your ass bullshit. Of guys being guys. None of that mattered, he was too interested in John Sheppard. Not as his CO, or a friend, but as a man he wanted to fuck, and that was a problem—his problem.

Lowering his head Evan quickly busying himself with more folding, knowing full well that when he was done here, he was going to be taking a long—cold shower.

FiN

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