Rodney sank down onto the edge of the lumpy mattress and untied his shoes. He pushed them off and then flopped back into the soft whoosh and crinkle of the grass. He was exhausted.

Well, not really. He was mostly bored and listless, and retreating to bed where he could focus on the thoughts running through his head in peace seemed like his best option. They had a ton of stuff to do, but it was all 'make hay before winter' type stuff, and not 'oh my god we're going to die if it's not done this instant' kind of stuff. Boring, back-breaking, hand-ripping, actual work-type stuff. And since none of it was stuff he really knew how to do on his own, he might as well take the opportunity to get out of the sun.

His hands itched for a working keyboard or some pen and paper. Even chalk would do. The Ancient devices were still working, but Rodney found himself reluctant to use them too frequently. The Ancients had built things to take a licking and keep on ticking, but for all he knew they might run out of power tomorrow.

Rodney laced his hands under his head, propping it up a little. God, this was going to suck. They didn't even have books, unless John or Teyla had one stowed away somewhere and hadn't thought to mention it. He could already tell that their lives were going to be endless mundane tasks broken only by horrifying struggles for survival.

He sighed and shifted a bit, trying to stretch a stiff muscle in his leg. He grinned, remembering why that particular muscle was sore. Maybe there would be a few high points in their daily existence. Teyla was something else--something very, very good.

She was off bathing right now, communing with nature or whatever she did when she went off by herself during the day. Rodney could understand the need for a little alone time, even with just the three of them for company. Especially with just the three of them. He had to admit that his own retreat was an attempt to escape John's constant hovering. Rodney didn't mind John's company--he actually enjoyed it a lot--but he was confused by it. Very, very confused, confused in a way he shouldn't be after having gotten off two nights in a row with a beautiful woman.

The door creaked open. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. Rodney didn't bother to acknowledge John, just listened to his soft footfalls as he crossed the room to the bed. The mattress shifted a little as John sat down, and Rodney could hear the thunk as he tossed his shoes to the ground. There was another soft crinkle of the grass as John stretched out on the other side of the bed.

"Tired?" John asked.

"Hmm. Bored."

They lay in a weirdly uncomfortable silence for a few minutes. Rodney kept trying to think of things to say, but for some reason his usual brilliance was failing him. He couldn't pin down the right words. He thought about getting up, but that didn't seem fair. He'd been here first, after all.

"So, about Teyla," John finally said.

Rodney sighed, wondering where this was heading. "What about her?"

The mattress dipped and rustled as John moved around. Rodney kept his eyes on the ceiling. There were a few gaps in the chinking that needed to be repaired before they got a strong rain.

"It's kind of weird, isn't it?" John asked. "I mean, you, me. You and Teyla and me."

Rodney rolled to his side. John was on his back, hands behind his head. "Do you have a problem with it?"

John sort of shrugged, the best he could do in his current position. "No. I just thought you might."

Rodney rolled onto his back again. "I'm the one who started it, remember?"

"Right."

There it was again, that strange, tense silence. Rodney searched for a topic and grabbed the first that came into his head. "I'd give a lot for a lifetime supply of condoms, though."

John snorted. Rodney grinned at the ceiling.

"Hey, at least you got to," and John paused. "You know."

Rodney's eyebrows climbed as far as they could go. "You know? Christ, are you twelve? I think the word you're looking for is fuck. Or possibly screw, if fuck is too strong for your repressed American sensibilities."

"Hey, it's Teyla, okay? I was just trying to be respectful."

"Please. Teyla's hardly a blushing Victorian bride." Hardly. He was half-hard remembering the way she had taken control that first night. He really, really wanted it to happen again. "They used to make condoms out of animal intestine, you know. Maybe we could fashion something out of squirbit... "

He heard John roll toward him. "I'm not sticking bits of dead animal on my dick, Rodney."

It was a pretty disgusting idea, but on the other hand, there was Teyla. "We'd have to prepare it, of course. It wouldn't be fresh meat."

John was silent long enough Rodney was pretty sure he wasn't going to go for it.

"Wouldn't squirbit be too small?"

Rodney rolled his eyes. "It stretches."

"Oh." John sighed. "The problem is, though, you wouldn't have any room for error. Ninety-percent effective isn't good enough."

"True," Rodney conceded. He rolled onto his side. Once again he was struck by how clear John's eyes were, even with all the dark brown and deep green that blended in with the lighter tones.

"So, you really don't mind me being there?" John asked softly.

Rodney shook his head. For some reason his mouth was dry. He swallowed. "No." He held in a grin as a thought came to him. "It's not like you're a threat to my ego."

John moved fast, but Rodney managed to grab his right hand just before it made contact with the very ticklish spot on his side. But then John pulled and rolled at the same time, and before he knew it Rodney was flat on his back after being tugged over and across John's body. John was grabbing at his wrists, trying to pin him, so Rodney planted his feet and tossed them back over again. He panted a little as they held the tableau, realizing he was having a blast. John was grinning like a loon.

"You really are twelve, aren't you?"

John pushed up a little, testing Rodney's grip. "Just thought you could use a little more hand to hand practice," he said, and then shot his arms out to either side, causing Rodney to completely lose his balance and collapse against John's chest.

They struggled a bit against each other, both trying to get control, rolling around and pushing and pulling. Rodney's grin slipped away as he realized this wasn't fun--it was something else entirely. He stopped fighting and wound up pressed into the mattress with John above him.

John wasn't smiling anymore, either. He was watching Rodney in a way that made him very nervous, like he was being hunted. He swallowed, trying to work up enough spit to make a glib remark.

"You always have to win, don't you? Can't stand to see somebody else get ahead," he managed. His voice was a little breathy, but that was because he was panting from exertion.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," John drawled, his own voice deep and quiet. "I'm more of a win-win kind of guy."

And fuck, he was barely breathing now, because John kept looking at him, looking from his eyes to his mouth and back again. For some reason John's mouth was drawing his own gaze, lush mobile lips that were suddenly the most fascinating thing in the universe. They teetered on the edge of denial and inevitability, and god, Rodney hoped John didn't kiss him because his mouth was as dry as the Gobi. He didn't think he'd be able to pry his lips apart to save his life.

But then John leaned down. Rodney had half a second to swallow before those lips were on his own, and nothing else mattered. John's lips were as fabulous as they looked, and when John's tongue got into the picture it was even better. Rodney pushed up into the kiss, his neck straining as he pushed for more. He worked his pinned hand free and wrapped it around the back of John's neck, feeling warm skin and silky hair as he pulled John to him. John groaned and sucked on Rodney's lower lip. Rodney pushed up into John's body, pressing his hard cock into warmth and firm muscles.

John sat back, panting. "Um."

"What?" Rodney asked, a little too dazed to really work up a panic. "You're having a freak-out now?"

John shook his head and licked his lips. He looked a little glazed himself. "No. It's just, you're not. I mean, this is really, really weird, isn't it?"

Rodney nodded. He got that. "But good, right? I thought it was good. Didn't you?"

John nodded along with him. "Good. But weird. Good-weird, not bad-weird."

Rodney snorted, and John grinned. He lifted a leg and settled down alongside Rodney so their faces were bare inches apart.

"Um, I'm back to that not knowing what to do thing," John whispered, never losing the small smile.

Rodney wanted to roll his eyes, but he couldn't stop watching John long enough to do it. "I think we'll figure it out."

This time he started it, cupping John's scratchy cheek and tipping his chin with a thumb. They kissed softly, too softly, and his stomach clenched up a little even though this was just John. No, because he was kissing John–John, who he'd carefully not watched and not wondered about for a year; John, who was his best friend in two galaxies; John, who he'd almost lost more times than he wanted to remember. Rodney deepened the kiss out of desperation, turning it forceful and passionate. Passion was good, much better than soft.

John pulled him closer, hooking a leg over Rodney's thigh. He was hard--they were both hard--and it felt incredible to push against that stiffness. John grunted and thrust against him.

"Wait," John said, even as he ducked back in to suck at Rodney's mouth before breaking away again. "Wait. What about Teyla?"

"Yes, what about me?"

They sprang apart like they had been electrocuted, rolling to opposite sides of the bed. Rodney thought he'd sprained something in the maneuver, but he was so busy trying to recover from a heart attack that he couldn't figure out what.

"Teyla," John croaked. He cleared his throat. "How's it going?"

Rodney pushed himself up carefully, trying to avoid further injury. He very casually glanced up at Teyla. She stood with her arms crossed, but other than that she didn't look too pissed. She didn't seem disgusted, either, which was a very good thing considering she could kick his ass as well as withhold sexual favors.

"Apparently not as well for me as it is for you," she said.

John shot Rodney a look that clearly said 'help me'. Rodney wasn't sure what he was expecting; after all, John was the one who had the instinctual bond with Teyla.

"We were just, uh," and he stopped, because what was he going to say? He was just checking for something in John's eye?

Teyla stepped forward so that they both had to lean back to see her face. She had the Vulcan eyebrow thing going on. Rodney moved his hand to a better position, brushing up against John's as he did so. They looked at each other, and Rodney could see worry in John's eyes.

"Do you no longer wish to continue our arrangement?"

Rodney shook his head vehemently as John said, "No."

Teyla smiled. "I take it this is the first time this has ocurred."

"There really wasn't a lot of occurring," Rodney tried to explain.

Teyla knelt in front of the bed. "May I watch?"

Rodney opened his mouth but nothing came out. He looked at John, who was gaping kind of stupidly. "Uh," they said together.

"I will not interrupt," she said, her eyes bright and excited. "Unless you wish for me to do so."

"Yeah, okay," Rodney agreed. Except a second later it occurred to him what he had just agreed to. He swallowed as he looked over at John, who was still looking a little gobsmacked.

John blinked a little more, then he looked at Rodney, looked at Teyla, and smiled a slow, seductive smile. Rodney's heart started to race for a completely different reason. "Yeah, sure," John said, and tugged on Rodney's wrist.

Rodney got the idea. He laid back, and John stretched out half on top of him, a warm weight in all the right places.