wickedwords | Fic: Breaking the Bank (Sheppard/McKay, AU, PG-13)

Title: Breaking the Bank
Author: Rachael Sabotini (

wickedwords)
Fandom: SGA (AU)
Summary: College student John needs cash, and Professor Rodney's got big plans about Vegas.
Many thanks to both

z_rayne and

elynross for their betas. This story is part of

slodwick's "One Picture is Worth 1000 Words" challenge at

picfor1000. Exactly 1000 words, not counting title or section breaks.

ETA:

berlinghoff79 made a wonderful cover for the story, so the original inspiration image is now at the bottom of the post.

Breaking the Bank

John's housemates were complete pigs. This morning, he'd crawled past decaying pizza boxes, scattered beer bottles, and bowls of rotting cereal just to get to the front door -- stepping into a pool of liquefied Jell-o mere inches from his goal.

The rent was cheap, though, and John didn't have a lot of money to spare after books and tuition. But at this point, he wasn't sure that 'cheap' was really a bargain.

In and among the house-to-share notices on the student union bulletin board, a yellow leaflet proclaimed "Atlantis Investments -- Play Blackjack Over Spring Break" in bold lettering.

John stared at the poster a minute -- he was good at cards, and more money meant a better apartment -- so he took out his notebook and wrote down the contact information.

***

Dr. Rodney McKay, professor of Physics, presented the seminar, which was really a recruitment meeting for his own blackjack team. No older than John, with sandy-brown hair, clear blue eyes, and a certain-death glare when anyone asked a stupid question, his enthusiasm was contagious, and it wasn't long before John was fantasizing about him along with breaking a casino's bank.

But John had read up on card counting, and he just didn't see how it could be done. "So, Dr. McKay? Will we be learning high-low and basic strategy, or will we be using some other system?"

McKay's eyes flashed, and John shifted slightly in his chair, both entranced and reluctant to have all that attention focused on him. "You'll be learning every strategy you've ever heard of, but my theories go far beyond that--" McKay said enthusiastically, gesturing wildly to include the rest of the group.

By the time the seminar was over, John was more than half in love with Rodney McKay.

***

John spent weeks with McKay's team, learning to count cards but failing the check-out -- an ugly process with smoke and people shouting and buzzers ringing and lights flashing, in an attempt to simulate the worst possible environment in a Las Vegas casino. Lorne poured an ice bucket over John's head when he finally got the count right, while the rest of the group yelled and high-five'd around him.

Rodney folded his arms across his chest with a big wide grin, his eyes glittering like John had just defended his dissertation. "How'd you like to come to Atlantic City next weekend?"

"Depends. Do I get to room with you?"

Rodney laughed.

***

Even though he lost in Atlantic City, John proved he knew the system well enough to land a berth on the Vegas trip that spring. In Atlantic City, Rodney hadn't actually played, just watched nervously from the banks of nickel slots while John worked the table. But when they hit Vegas together, they found no one else at the rendezvous point, so the plan had to change.

"Come on," John said, wrapping his arm around Rodney's waist and pulling him toward the Mirage. "You'll be my boyfriend, and you can just...sit at the table and let me know when things warm up."

"Boyfriend...?" Rodney said nervously, then snapped his fingers. "Signals. Okay. Here's what we do. We pick a table, you bet a few big bets, then go to the bathroom or something while I, uh, bet a small amount and track the count. When it's good, I'll prop my chin on my right hand, and you can get back in the game."

"Now you're talking," John said, rubbing his hand along Rodney's back, feeling the sweat there. He leaned in and pressed his lips to Rodney's ear, feeling the shiver that ran through Rodney's body. "I'll bet the big money when you tell me it's right."

***

John came out of the men's room, smoothing his silk shirt into place, and saw Rodney signal him by placing both hands under his chin; he slid onto the stool and smiled at Rodney. "Thanks for keeping my place warm."

Rodney stayed for a while, but once John anted a thousand on the table, he had to leave. When the table finally turned cold, they met back of the Casino near the elevators. Rodney had a stupid souvenir fishing hat crushed in his hands, and sweat beaded along his brow while John sank against one of the mirrored walls, legs shaky with relief

"Well?" Rodney demanded. "How'd you do? Did anyone spot you? What was the final take?"

John grinned lazily. "We're up thirty thousand. And," he said, holding a key up for Rodney to look at, "they comped us a room."

"Are you serious?" Rodney's voice squeaked just a bit as he took the key from John and stared at it.

"Very. And two steak dinners, too." He tucked his arm around Rodney, and let his fingers sweep against Rodney's side. "Unless you have another room, you should think about spending the night."

***

Their suite overlooked the pool area and came complete with Jacuzzi, king-sized bed, and fully stocked bar. After showering, John poured them both drinks while Rodney counted the money and chips John had pulled from his pockets, his eyes glazing over.

John took a sip of his scotch, loving the way Rodney looked right now, totally high and completely bowled over. He set Rodney's drink down and let his fingers brush over Rodney's.

"God, John." Rodney licked his lips.

Leaning over, John brushed his lips against Rodney's. Rodney groaned and pushed fingers into John's hair, pulling John's head down for a better angle. Rodney opened his mouth wide and delved into John's mouth, hot whimpering noises occasionally escaping as John abandoned his drink to press his hand hard against Rodney's T-shirt, rucking it up and brushing his fingers over Rodney's bare stomach. "So we get to have sex now, right?"

"Oh, yeah." Rodney moaned, nipping at John's neck.

Free steak was free steak, so they answered when room service knocked, but they spent the rest of the weekend in bed. After all, when the cards were right, you had to play it out.

Original image inspiration: