boys who wear glasses
by Pares


kimberlyfdr asked for more Rodney in glasses from Ophthalmology:

boys who wear glasses

"Hey," Ronon said. As John looked up, he saw that Ronon had a mess tray in each massive hand. Hooking the toe of his boot around a chair, Ronon dragged it out, dropped into it and held one tray out toward John. "Barbecue," he said, mouth already full of Yalita's smoky double basted hetak ribs.

"Thanks." He sampled one and nodded in approval.

"Rodney looks different," Ronon said. Following Ronon's gaze, he could see Rodney looming over a seated Simpson, ostentatiously sipping coffee while she rolled her eyes.

"Because he's wearing glasses, or because you can actually see him now?"

He half-expected Ronon to stick his tongue out at him, but maybe they didn't do that on Sateda. Or maybe they did, and it just meant something else entirely.

"The glasses," Ronon answered, his tone clearly indicating that John shouldn't be giving up his day job for the stand-up circuit any time soon.

"How do you mean?"

Ronon shrugged a little.

"Different."

"You look different, too. The glasses, I mean." He immediately wished he hadn't said anything, because he didn't think Ronon would appreciate the 'drama school student' comparison, especially once John explained what drama school was, but Ronon just nodded and said, "Yeah. It's weird."

Ronon chomped on another hetak rib and said, "Girls like them, though, I think."

John felt a flutter of perverse panic. Was Rodney getting offers? Just on the strength of looking weirdly focused and oddly adult and even sort of stupidly cute in his glasses? Something must have shown on his face because Ronon dropped the rib he'd been gnawing, frowned at John and sucked on his sauce-glazed fingertips thoughtfully, one at a time, before saying finally, "I get hit on twice as much when I'm wearing them, is all."

John grimaced and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and when he looked up again, Ronon paused his munching on a hunk of corn bread to say, "You got some barbecue sauce in your hair."

John rubbed at his hair and thought about how completely screwed he was.

END

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