Ford had called it Boy's Night Out, and John supposed he couldn't complain
about the name. The Cathans had insisted that Teyla's 'men' sit vigil out
here while she did some sort of bonding ritual with the women. Staring into
the fire, he still wasn't sure if agreeing had been the right decision. Then
again, the way Teyla's eyes had gleamed when he'd started to protest had shut
him up real fast. Apparently the Cathans were related to the Athosians somehow,
and he'd nearly put his foot in it good.
So here they were. In the middle of the woods with only watered-down coffee
and each other to keep them awake all night, all in the quest for beans. John
thought he might be a little more enthused about the whole thing if he actually
liked beans.
"I wonder what they're doing in there," Ford muttered for the third time that evening.
John ignored him yet again, but Rodney snorted and said, "Probably something far
kinkier than you could ever imagine."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Ford glared, but Rodney was too intent on his tablet
to notice.
"Frankly, I could care less, unless it somehow involves me ending up on a decent
mattress instead of the ground tonight," he said distractedly, long fingers arching in
a complex spider over the interface. Rodney might be full of complaints, but he looked
completely unaware of the fact that they were roughing it on an alien planet.
"I could too imagine something kinky," Ford said after a minute of silence.
John's eyebrows rose; apparently Rodney'd hit where it hurt if Ford was still stewing
about it. He shook his head and took another sip of coffee.
"Oh, yes, Lieutenant. I'm sure your imagination wins awards for the depths of it's
depravity." To John, it sounded like Rodney only wanted to return to his work
uninterrupted. Ford obviously took it differently.
"So what do you think they're doing that's so kinky, Doc? If your imagination's so
superior and all."
Rodney opened his mouth, but John beat him to the punch. "Okay, guys," he warned gently.
"Let's not forget that Teyla is our teammate. It's not nice to fantasize about your
teammates." Out loud, John amended in his head as he avoided looking at Rodney.
He wasn't big on hypocrisy, but he figured this was more along the lines of
exploiting the loopholes to their fullest potential--something John considered an art
form.
"Right, sir," Ford replied, soldier-smart.
That was the end of it for another five minutes. The red embers at the base of
the flames had snared John's attention, drawing him in as surely as a hypnotist's
watch, when Rodney sighed loudly.
"Out with it, Lieutenant. What's preying so heavily on your mind that I can
practically hear it over here?" Rodney set his tablet to the side, which was
enough to get John's full attention.
Ford just shrugged and stared into his cup. "I'm curious why you think you're so
much better with that stuff. It's not like brains give you a special advantage or
anything."
"Oh, how little you know," Rodney sing-songed.
"Fine. What's the kinkiest thing you've ever done?"
"I think you should answer that question first, Lieutenant, considering the fact
you're the one who can't leave it alone."
Ford's eyes swung towards John's. "What about you, sir? I bet you've done some wild
shit."
"Leave me out of this, Ford." John glared, and Ford turned his attention back on
Rodney. Rank did have its privileges.
"Okay, fine." Ford fidgeted on his log, eyes flicking back and forth like he was
about to confess to a priest. "You sure?"
"Oh, for Pete's sake," Rodney sighed.
Ford glanced at John yet again. "Go on," John encouraged. "I'm not going to give
you any shit about it."
Ford leaned forward like he was trying to keep his secret from a crowd full of
people. He was being awfully coy for a seasoned Marine, and John's own imagination
was starting to run wild. Despite himself, he leaned forward as well, noticing
Rodney doing the same thing on the opposite side of the camp.
"So I was with this one chick who was really, really on fire, you know? I couldn't
keep up with her, and I'm talking all night long."
John nodded, somewhat wistfully. 'All night long' was pretty much a memory for him
these days.
"So she took care of herself, if you know what I mean." Ford paused, his voice
dropping to a whisper. "And then she licked her fingers."
The fire popped, sending a shower of sparks up into the blackness of the sky. Ford
stayed quiet, and it didn't take long for Rodney to get restless.
"And?" he prompted.
"And what?" Ford asked, clearly puzzled.
Rodney snorted. John settled back into a comfortable position. "Are you sure
you're twenty-five, Ford?"
The lieutenant still looked bewildered. "What? That's totally hot, man."
"Well, yes." John thought Rodney's eyes looked a little dreamy above his smirk. "But
it's not kinky."
"It is, too!"
John snickered. Rodney grinned at him across the firelight.
"Oh, oh, I get you. It's pick-on-the-grunt night. So tell me, Mr. Genius, what's
the kinkiest thing you've done?"
"That's Doctor Genius," Rodney corrected automatically. He crossed his arms across
his chest, chin tipped high, looking like he was caught between smug and defensive.
John couldn't tear his eyes away, suddenly realizing that Rodney was going to share
something about his sex life that wasn't all bravado and bragging. He clutched his
coffee cup in both hands, trying to look cool as Rodney built the suspense.
Rodney cleared his throat and then let it spill. "Strap-on."
Fuck. Lukewarm coffee sloshed over his hands as his fingers twitched with the
need to act out. John couldn't tell if the color on Rodney's cheeks was a sudden
flush or the play of firelight, but the smug smile on his face spoke of a very good memory.
"Wait, what?" Ford asked, sounding completely confused.
Rodney dropped his arms, smile dropping with them as he rolled his eyes. "It's a
dildo that goes into a harness for the woman to wear. So she can perform like a man.
Do I need to draw you a diagram?"
"Dude." Ford looked over at John like he'd just had his mind blown. John could relate,
though for a totally different reason. "So you're saying she--Dude."
"Mmm, yes. It was fantastic."
Ford laughed. "McKay, that's pretty gay."
John didn't wince. He'd heard it all before, but that didn't mean his gut didn't
drop a bit with disappointment. Especially since Rodney was looking uncomfortable now.
"No, it is not gay. A sex act does not make one gay, Lieutenant." Rodney
stopped, a frown creasing his forehead. "Well, it does if it's performed with another
man, I guess, but this was with a woman, so--"
"Yeah, we get the point, McKay," John broke in. He was really tired of the guy-bonding
portion of the evening now. "You're not gay."
"Could have fooled me," Ford muttered.
"I didn't say I wasn't gay," Rodney said with some exasperation. "Though obviously, I
like women. But if you people are so hung up on gender that you're willing to pass up
perfectly good sex, well, more for me, I suppose."
John stared, trying to untangle Rodney's logic. Either he had just confessed to being
bi, or he just really liked taking it up the ass from a woman. John rubbed at his ear,
fighting the urge to ask for a clarification.
"Yeah, whatever." Ford rolled his eyes; John half-expected him to make a big W-sign.
Or maybe L for loser. "If that's what you mean by kinky, I'll pass, man."
"Well it's not like I was offering," Rodney huffed.
John pulled out his deck of cards, deciding he'd had about all he could take. "So,
poker? Go fish?"
Ford looked grateful. Rodney muttered something about his ass never being the same
again. John chose to interpret that as commentary on the state of the campsite, and
dealt the cards.
It was going to be a very long night.
Counting the previous day's up-time, the vigil, breakfast, a not-so-brief meeting
to confirm Teyla's trade arrangements, and a quick debrief with Elizabeth, it wasn't
just a long night. John was pretty sure he was coming up on forty hours
straight, but his eyes were so gritty he couldn't get them to focus on his watch to
check. Thirty-six hours at the very least. He'd been up long enough--without the
benefit of combat adrenaline--that he was definitely in loopy territory.
Which was probably the reason John fell into step with Rodney as they left
Elizabeth's office and followed him straight back to his quarters.
"Is there a problem?" Rodney finally asked. He swept his hand over the door sensor
and then yawned, mangling the irritation out of his next words. "Because my bed is
right there and I plan to be in it in thirty seconds."
John nodded amiably and followed Rodney right on in. True to his word, Rodney dropped
straight onto his bed. John seriously thought Rodney was sleeping sitting up and with
his eyes open, until he finally gathered enough energy to bend over and untie his shoes.
"Strap-on, huh?" Some part of John's brain sluggishly awoke, informing him that that
opening was neither smooth nor smart.
Rodney lifted his head, blinking slowly like he was still processing the words. "What?
You're asking about that now?"
John shrugged. "Just curious. You sounded like you were really into it."
Rodney turned back to his socks. "Yes, well. Not all of us are as repressed as the
typical American male. Now can I go to sleep, please?"
"Sure." John backed towards the door, but the smart part of his brain had hit the
snooze button. "It's just, I don't get the whole silicone deal. I've always found
the real thing to be much more satisfying."
Rodney's head snapped up. His eyes were wide and awake, and they flicked down to
John's crotch before jerking back up to his eyes.
John winked. "Pleasant dreams," he said, and fled.