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Never Have I Asked an August Sky
by Hth
Sheppard/McKay
Originally written for the zine Surfacing, now available right here on your internets.
“Major,” Rodney said by way of a greeting, which sucked and was stupid and oh my God, if there was room left for this to get more pathetic, then absolutely the way to get there was to call the man by his military title, as if he’d driven seven hundred and thirty miles through fucking Kansas for some kind of horrifically awkward war-buddy reunion moment.
by Hth
Sheppard/McKay
Originally written for the zine Surfacing, now available right here on your internets.
“Major,” Rodney said by way of a greeting, which sucked and was stupid and oh my God, if there was room left for this to get more pathetic, then absolutely the way to get there was to call the man by his military title, as if he’d driven seven hundred and thirty miles through fucking Kansas for some kind of horrifically awkward war-buddy reunion moment.
