Rodney McKay was not a lucky man. He could figure possibilities and probabilities and choose the most likely results and how they could be most beneficial to his desires. If pressed, and if given enough time and motivation, he could also often determine ways to skew the odds in favor of his desired outcome.
He did not believe in luck, at least not in relation to himself. Luck was the province of idiots and children – those who didn't know any better, yet accomplished the statistically improbable anyway. He was not an idiot – thank you, very much – and as such, he did not appreciate having his hard work and sheer genius reduced to such mundane circumstance.
On the other hand, Colonel John Sheppard was one lucky bastard. Oh, it's not that Rodney thought that Sheppard was a complete idiot – at least, not most of the time – but how many people do you know that can actually survive a suicide bombing run with a nuclear weapon? Exactly.
Since Rodney considered luck to be an even more unlikely possibility than the idea that he could have been wrong, he had absolutely no idea how he had ended up here – sharing a too small cot, with the lean, sweaty, naked form of his best friend – his presumably straight best friend.
Well, that was probably the start of his miscalculations. However, it was obvious that he had been working from a faulty data set, and that wasn't completely his fault, even though he would have ridiculed any of the people who worked for him, for making the mistake of not verifying their source materials.
However, even the fact that John liked men, and was, like him, bisexual, did not lead automatically to them in bed together. Despite his bluster and bravado, Rodney did not make it a habit of lying, at least not to himself. He was awkward, and socially inept, mostly because he lacked patience for the inane rituals of society and courtship. He was also balding, on the wrong side of 35, and a bit soft around the middle. He wasn't a catch, in the traditional sense, though he firmly believed that anyone stupid enough to dismiss him for these faults was too stupid to be worth his time, anyway.
Sheppard wasn't stupid – at least not most of the time. He had proven himself to be quite mentally agile on several occasions, and he seemed to approve of Rodney's wit, and even contribute his own, provided they weren't actively dying, or being threatened with such, at the time. He was also not balding, not *soft* anywhere, and more than reasonably attractive. He also, apparently, found Rodney more than a little attractive, considering that he had been having sex with him for just over five weeks now.
That was what was keeping him from his much earned rest. Rodney still couldn't figure out how he had gotten here, and he didn't like what he didn't understand. Yet, he did like the too warm weight pressed against his side, and the stupid look of satisfaction, evident on John's face, even in sleep. He liked it enough to reconsider his original premise. Maybe, he was lucky, after all.