Chapter Text
Rodney.
It wasn’t a date. Not really.
It was just two friends. Meeting for food. At a restaurant that served some of the best food in the state. In the evening.
Rodney swallowed, as he stared in the mirror, taking in the shirt and trousers he had picked. Well he had picked about seven other outfits before this, but none of them really felt right.
Not that there was anything to feel right about.
Because it wasn’t a date.
Not even slightly.
The invitation had been out of the blue. After the press conference where him and John had kept their legs pressed together in some form of moral support leg pressing thing, John had just blurted it out.
‘Amarlo. It’s a restaurant. I’ve heard it is good.’ The comment had been stilted and pained.
‘… right…’ Rodney responded as he took a bottle of water from the fridge in the make shift green room that had been set up for them.
‘We should go.’
‘We should?’
‘If you want to.’
‘Like us? Teyla and Ronon?’
‘Like… us. Me and you. Tonight. Like sevenish. We could meet there. It would be… nice.’
Rodney had blinked slowly at that, trying to get his head round the request. The bottle half way to his mouth and he felt just… frozen.
‘Ok. Yes. That would be… nice.’
Then, General O’Neill had appeared and no more had been said about it.
Which was how Rodney McKay was stood staring in the mirror at his shirt and trousers… thinking, Rethinking, and overthinking his choice.
Not that it mattered.
Because it wasn’t a date.
Oh who the hell was he kidding. It was absolutely a bloody date.
Rodney groaned into his hands.
John.
He was officially insane.
After deciding years ago that it was far more worry than it was worth to even think about pursuing any form of romance with his team mate, colleague and best friend, he had clearly lost his mind and had invited him to dinner anyway.
In the evening.
At a restaurant that was known for romance.
What the actual fuck was wrong with him.
He had arrived far too early, had eaten what he felt like was his weight in bread sticks, drank the whole bottle of water for the table and his knee wouldn’t stop bouncing. Someone was going to see them.
The agony of deciding what to wear was a familiar form of torture he hadn’t had to endure since moving to Atlantis, but back on Earth and being incredibly famous now meant he had to worry about it again. But also, he had wanted to impress Rodney. A small part of him wanted him to see him in real clothes… real proper normal clothes.
But that was a very small part of him and he mostly missed his all black assemble. He also missed the weapon holster strapped to his leg, it made him feel comfortable, safe.
But it wasn’t proper attire for a fancy Italian restaurant, so suit trousers, navy shirt with sleeves rolled to the elbows and dress shoes had to do, and he was pleased with it. Mostly.
He must have had some form of medical emergency. That is the only explanation to inviting Rodney McKay out on a god damn date. Or it was the adrenaline after the press conference, when they had locked eyes… damn.
‘Hello.’
John jumped out of his skin at the familiar voice and spun around to find Rodney stood dressed much the same as him. Johns mouth went dry at the slight of him. His looked…
‘Handsome.’
‘Excuse me?’
He’d said it out loud. Wow. He’d never wanted to die more.
John coughed and gestured for Rodney to sit down.
‘Nothing. Nothing. Thank you for coming. I’ve heard good things about this place. The pizza is meant to be very good.’ John smiled, hopefully encouragingly, however he feared it was more likely to be a pained smile.
Rodney paused for a moment. but seemingly remembering why he was there decided to sit opposite John.
‘Thank you for inviting me. I’ve never been here. I actually haven’t been out on a- to a restaurant in a while. It will be a nice change…’
John caught the correction. He looked up and locked eyes with Rodney.
A simple understanding seemed to pass between them. John knew what he heard, Rodney knew what he said and knew that John had heard and yet and the non comment on this felt like an admission, and acceptance.
John offered a small nod, not taking his gaze from his best friend, and breathed a sigh of relief when Rodney responded in kind.
‘So pizza?’ Rodney questioned, the tip of his tongue darting out to wet his lips. John shifted in his seat.
He let out a relieved chuckle. They would need to talk. They would absolutely have to have this conversation. Where they discussed feelings, their relationship, and everything else. But right now…
‘Yes. Pizza.’