No Repeat Performances
by WesleysGirl
"Oh, thank God," Rodney says as John steps into the house. "I was starting to think you'd had some kind of accident."
John frowns and swings the door shut, leaning his weight against it until the latch catches. The heat from the bag he's holding is seeping through the paper and into his hands, which are cold from having been outside. "What kind of accident could I have between here and China Palace?"
"Are you kidding me? Don't you realize most accidents occur within ten miles of home?" Rodney is pacing, back and forth; he's genuinely upset.
John's stomach tightens. "They screwed up and gave our order to someone else -- I had to wait while they re-made it. It didn't take that long." Ten minutes tops.
"You should have been back twenty minutes ago," Rodney insists. "I tried to call you and you didn't answer."
"I didn't hear it ringing." John shoves the bag of food at Rodney, who takes it, then slips his phone from his pocket and checks it. One missed call, and the ringer's set to vibrate. "Didn't ring," he says, holding it up so Rodney can see.
"Well, that's a reasonable explanation for worrying me to death."
Usually, it's hard for John to feel enough sympathy for Rodney when he's freaking out over nothing, but tonight there's something in Rodney's eyes, something desperate, and John feels it. Feels it all the way down into his bones. "I'm sorry," he says, gently, meaning it.
Rodney takes a breath like he's going to yell at John some more, really get it out of his system, but instead he drops the bag onto the already-crowded hall table and pushes John against the wall. His mouth is hard on John's, one hand resting flat on John's chest under his unzipped jacket, like he's reassuring himself with the steady thud of John's heartbeat.
"Don't do that to me again," Rodney mutters, kissing him again. "You hear me?"
"Yeah," John says. He wraps his arms around Rodney and holds on. "Yeah, I hear you."
Rodney lets his head drop, rests his forehead on John's collar bone. "I can't lose you." It's just a whisper, but John hears it loud and clear.
"I know," he says, and presses his lips to Rodney's hair, hand curling around the back of Rodney's neck where the skin is soft and vulnerable. "You won't. You won't."
End.