John Sheppard smiled when the village head woman herself refilled their cups and thought, not for the first time, that the Clallarral were some of the nicest aliens they'd encountered since meeting the Athosians. There'd been no talk of a nuclear program, no weapons drawn, and, for a change, no offense taken by either side. There'd just been a ton of delicious food, lots of drinks, and now music and dancing in the great hall.
John clinked cups with Ronon to his left and Teyla to his right. "Cheers," he said, and tossed back half the contents of his cup. It was spicier than what they'd been drinking before, and warmed his throat agreeably on the way down.
Teyla followed suit, but Ronon just frowned at him, one eyebrow cocked.
"It's a toast. It means drink up and have a good time."
Ronon stared at him as if to ask why he hadn't said that in the first place, then knocked back his drink and put his empty cup down before striding away to claim a dance partner from among the unattached village women.
John grinned as a Clallarralian man drew Rodney to his feet and swung him into the dance. Rodney gave a voluble protest, but, after chugging the rest of his drink, clasped hands with the man and clumsily fell into step.
"I did not know Doctor McKay was such an enthusiastic dancer," Teyla said with a grin that was edging toward intoxicated. "He looks good out there."
"He's certainly throwing himself into it," agreed John, smirking at her before turning back to watch the action. Ronon swirled by the table with a tiny young woman nearly lost in his embrace and John wished it was himself in Ronon's arms. He turned to Teyla to say so and...
Wait. Back it up a minute. He wanted to be in Ronon's arms? He stared at Teyla and his mouth watered just thinking about kissing her. His nerve endings seemed to catch fire when Rodney stumbled away from the dance and landed in John's lap. His hand came up to steady Rodney, but instead of pushing him off and making some comment about how heavy he was, he pulled him closer. Sliding his hand up Rodney's arm, he grasped at Rodney's bicep--nice and firm, he noticed--and licked his lips as Rodney squirmed against him, making his cock harden and pulse race.
Then Ronon was next to him, his big hands on John's shoulders, and Teyla was rubbing against Rodney with a cat-eyed smile.
John awoke the next morning feeling rested and relaxed, if way too warm and sticky all over. He peeled his face off the damp skin he was lying against and opened his eyes to see that he'd been using Rodney's hip as a pillow. One of his hands was tangled in Ronon's dreads and the other was hooked around Teyla's waist. He carefully reclaimed both hands and worked himself out of the tangle of his team without waking anyone else.
They were sprawled and curled and twisted in the middle of a bed that was nearly the same size as the spacious room. It was so big that two very tall men could lie end to end in any direction and still not go over the edges. Two low tables sat on either side of the bed, each holding assortment of candles, a pile of cloths, and two crockery bowls. John investigated the bowls on the table nearest him and discovered the larger one held water while the smaller one was less than half-full of a viscous fluid. He sniffed at it and the musky exotic scent seemed to go straight to his dick, making him hard. He tentatively dipped two fingers into the silky stuff and just the feel of it on his skin made him want to smear it on someone's body, plunge into some welcoming orifice.
John sat back, shaking as memories of the previous night flooded through him.
He is kissing Rodney, tender messy kisses, not what first kisses should be, but instead desperate longing kisses of reunited lovers. They kiss for hours, it seems, learning and tasting and writhing together as if not just their mouths but their whole bodies and souls are kissing. It's a ridiculously romantic thought and John knows it but can't seem to care. He's seizing an opportunity he's longed for yet denied himself. He wraps his arms tighter around Rodney and moans into his mouth as hands, too many hands roam over his body.
Teyla is sprawled spread-eagle in the center of the bed, and John sucks at her right nipple. He licks the curve of her breast and watches out of the corner of his eye as Rodney pays obsessive attention to her left breast. The sight of his enjoyment of her is almost more arousing than the supple flesh under John's tongue and when Rodney's eyes meet his, they come together for a hungry kiss before Teyla's hand tightens in John's hair and pulls his face down to hers. He gets a glimpse of Ronon's face buried between her legs and hears the quiet little grunts as he laps at her but then John is lost in her mouth and there's a hand between his own legs and he doesn't know whose it is. It doesn't matter.
Rodney wraps himself around John's back as they watch Teyla riding Ronon's cock like a wild thing. Rodney's hands slide all over the front of John's body, pinching his nipples and rubbing his belly. Rodney's fingers comb through the hair on John's torso and wrap around John's cock, fondling him gently and playfully, not even trying to get him off yet.
Rodney's hands are amazing, smooth and big, warm and sure as they work over his body, almost rough on his thighs and then turning delicate and careful on his balls and the spot behind them that makes John tilt his head back so that Rodney has better access to his throat and neck. Rodney's mouth is as wonderful as his hands, never still and never completely silent, murmuring and moaning and breathing heavy and hot on John's skin. He licks and sucks and bites at John's neck with the single-mindedness he would show a really cool experiment or a huge piece of fresh-baked chocolate cake or...Teyla's breasts. The thought turns John's attention back to Teyla and Ronon.
Ronon has one big hand wrapped around Teyla's hip, holding onto her as she slides up and down him, and the other cups her breast with surprising gentleness. Her neck arches and her hair brushes against the graceful curve of her back. John shudders and aches and wants. All of it, all of them, he can't get enough.
John twists in Rodney's arms and shoves him on his back. He swallows Rodney's cock like a pro even though he's only done it a few times and none have been recently. And it's never been Rodney's cock. There's something shatteringly right about it.
John tries to remember why he's fought this for so long because it seems inevitable, but his motivations are all fuzzy and distant while Rodney is right here, hot and hard and real.
He flings one hand out toward the side of the bed and Rodney reads his mind and holds the little bowl of oil so that John can dip his fingers in it. Without taking his mouth off Rodney's cock, he pushes one slick finger into Rodney's ass. When Rodney spreads his legs a little wider and twitches his hips like he wants to thrust, John works two fingers into him, twists and hooks them until he finds Rodney's prostate. He rubs against it and slides his mouth to the very tip of Rodney's cock so he can massage the head with his tongue and pump the shaft with his other hand, bringing Rodney off with a cry that cuts through John like a knife. He swallows and swallows and only reluctantly lets go when Rodney strokes his hair and whispers complimentary nonsense at him.
When Ronon is done, Teyla reaches out and pulls at John, who takes his place, sliding into soft wet heat like coming home. She arches against him and digs her fingers into his shoulders. He buries his face between her breasts, and hands he now recognizes as Ronon's shove his thighs apart. He loses his rhythm, hovering unsure between the pull of Teyla's body and the mystery of Ronon's desires. He's lost track of Rodney completely and that scares him for a second or two before Ronon's fingers slide all slick and oily down the cleft of his ass, pushing into him and opening him wide. Teyla smacks his ass and gets him moving again, thrusting into her as Ronon pushes into him.
It's almost too much but still not enough. He burns and feels on the brink of overload and Rodney's not even with him and there's an aching emptiness until Ronon lurches against him, jerking hard into him and says "Yeah, McKay, harder."
The last piece slots into place and the puzzle is complete. John grins down at Teyla, who strokes his face and bucks against him, shoving him deeper into her as Ronon spears into him in rhythm with whatever Rodney's doing. And John gives himself up to it, the burning pleasure, the ache and the sweetness, the terrifying rightness of it all, of his team filling the empty places in him that he'd have denied were there.
Teyla's pleasure triggers his, milks his orgasm from him and he nearly collapses onto her as Ronon pounds into him for another minute or two before coming.
When Ronon pulls out of him--not quite as gently as John might have wished if he'd been thinking clearly--John slides off to lie beside Teyla. She wraps an arm around him and he curls around to lay his head on her belly so he can watch Ronon settle on his hands and knees while Rodney fucks him with surprising energy and power. Ronon growls encouragement and Rodney's murmuring a litany of his own that doesn't seem to have anything to do with anything at all. He meets John's eyes over Ronon's shoulder and John's dick twitches, starting to get hard impossibly soon.
Teyla bathes his face and chest with a soft damp cloth until Rodney takes it out of her hand and she lowers her head to lick his neck while Rodney washes him thoroughly from the waist down, front and back. Ronon's beard scratches John's skin as his mouth maps John's hip bone and the crease of his thigh. When Teyla moves away from him, John sits up to see what's going on.
He nearly swallows his tongue when she grabs Ronon by the back of the hair and commands, "Suck him." She pushes Ronon's face toward John's cock and with a shake of his head, he takes over from there. He licks at John's cock and balls like he's done it a million times, and it's perfect and weird and perfect to watch him do it. He devours John like a starving man, and John wonders if maybe he is. Maybe they all are. Too much work and stress and fear and pressure and nobody has time to just kick back and spend an entire night making love over and over again.
"Wow," Rodney says, in a voice filled with wonder and awe, jerking John's attention away from Ronon.
Teyla has curled around so that she can suck Rodney's cock while she guides his fingers between her legs, showing him how to pleasure her even as she makes him go cross-eyed with ecstasy.
John wants to keep watching but Ronon does something that makes his vision grey out at the edges and he's coming hard and fast and he can't keep his eyes open anymore.
Movement behind him startled John out of his memory. He set the bowl back on the table and turned to meet Rodney's eyes, wide with shock and something else John wasn't sure he was reading correctly. It could have been fear or disappointment or...John didn't know what it was but Rodney didn't look at all happy and John had no idea what to say to him. He opened his mouth then shut it again.
With a glance at Teyla and Ronon, John stood up and moved away from the bed. Facing the corner so he didn't have to see that look on Rodney's face that made his chest ache, he took one of the cloths from the table and wet it in the bowl of water. He washed himself down quickly and efficiently and then untangled his clothes from the pile by the door and got dressed. He ignored Rodney as he did the same thing, but when they were both fully covered, he sat down on the corner of the bed, which was so low that sitting put his knees up in front of his chest.
Rodney stood next to the door, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and fiddling with the pockets of his vest.
"Rodney." John waited until Rodney looked him in the eye. "Are you all right?"
"Yes," Rodney said quickly, but his gaze slid away. "Well. No. But yes. Physically, I seem to be fine. I don't..."
His expression crumpled and then smoothed out, but his mouth stayed turned down. He didn't finish his sentence after couple of moments, so John nodded.
"This is pretty awkward," John offered.
"Yes," Rodney nodded furiously. "And unexpected."
"The stuff in the bowl--"
"Sex oil," said Ronon. He was suddenly sitting up next to John and John hadn't even felt him make those little preliminary waking up movements that most people make.
"Yeah, that." John nodded and kept his eyes off Ronon's naked body, even though Ronon didn't seem uncomfortable in the least. "It smells a lot like that last drink the head woman put in my cup."
"Sort of spicy and sweet? I had some of that too." Rodney thought about that for a minute, so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't appear to notice Teyla climbing off the bed, still naked as she'd been all night. John slammed his eyes closed and put his hand up in front of Ronon's face, half-way expecting Ronon to push him away. He heard the splash of water and the rustle of clothing, but still didn't open his eyes until Teyla cleared her throat.
"I believe I will go and check with our hosts about breakfast and our trade negotiation." Teyla inclined her head gracefully and John felt a flush rising from his neck up over his face. "If that is acceptable to you, Colonel?"
"Yes, please do that," John agreed with alacrity. "The sooner we get off this planet, the happier I'll be." Just before she slipped out the door, he asked, "Teyla, are you all right?"
"I am...I will be fine." Her voice was calm and firm as ever, but her expression was uncertain. He made a mental note to talk to her alone when they got back to Atlantis.
When she was gone, Rodney snapped out of wherever he'd been. "They drugged us with...what? Like rohypnol and viagra and an aphrodisiac all rolled into one. I don't know about you, but I don't usually...I mean, not since I was seventeen."
"Me either," said John, trying to ignore the catlike way Ronon stretched before he started to dress. "This whole thing... I don't know how we're supposed to deal with this. It never came up in officer training school."
"What's the problem?" Ronon asked, and his tone of voice made it clear that he wasn't just being flippant but really didn't know. "It's just sex."
"We have rules about this kind of thing." John stood up and checked to make sure all his gear was where it should be. "You know, a commanding officer doesn't have sex with his subordinates. Involvement with men is especially...problematic in the military."
"That's only the US military anyway," said Rodney. "And none of the three of us are in the US military."
"No, but I am and the rules still apply to me." John met Rodney's gaze and struggled to keep from pleading. He didn't want to be dealing with the realities right now. He'd much rather be asking if Rodney might want to continue what they'd started last night, but he couldn't just ignore the way things actually were in favor of how he wanted them to be. No matter how badly he wanted it, and suddenly he wanted this, wanted Rodney, in his bed and in his heart, more than he'd wanted anything since he'd learned to fly. He swallowed hard and looked away. "Caldwell would jump on any excuse to get rid of me."
"Rules," Ronon snorted. "I haven't had any sex in the last seven years, and I'm not going to turn it down because someone who isn't even here says I shouldn't do it."
"Yeah, well, it's different." John barely spared Ronon a glance before addressing Rodney again. "This could end my career."
"What do you suggest then? That we keep this little or--orgy a secret?" Rodney asked, and John couldn't tell if he was in favor of that plan or against it.
"We have to work together, all of us. It might be better if we forget this ever happened." John was struck with a thought that made him very uncomfortable but he had to voice it anyway. "Unless you need to have Beckett check you out. He'll keep it to himself if we tell him to. We should probably all get looked at, especially Teyla. We didn't exactly have any protection to use last night."
Rodney nodded unhappily and Ronon shrugged. John could make it an order, but he'd let Ronon make that decision for himself.
Ronon left the room and Rodney started to follow, but John reached out and put his hand on his shoulder. Rodney looked from John's hand to John's face, and John stepped back and broke contact. "I just...I wanted to make sure you're okay."
"I'm not even remotely okay with any of this. How can I be okay with this?" Rodney's voice went up until it held a tinge of hysteria. "I will never be able to look Teyla in the eye again and Ronon now knows more about my body than my doctor does and then there's you."
"What about me?" John asked, crossing his arms over his chest in what he assured himself was not a self-protective gesture and had nothing to do with that hollow feeling where his heart should be.
"You're different. Your homophobic little regulations have always been...an issue." Rodney turned away, and John clenched his fists to keep from reaching out to him again. "I know you don't want... Well, let's just drop it, okay? We'll pretend it never happened."
Rodney's words hit him like a fist. He flinched, then straightened. No. He couldn't lose this. Wouldn't. "I don't think I can," he confessed, and a weight seemed to lift from his chest. "Rodney... It's different with you. It felt different with you last night. Like the missing piece of a puzzle I thought was already complete."
Rodney's head jerked up and he nodded, and there was aching hunger in his eyes. "I felt it too. But we can't."
John licked his lips and dropped his arms to his sides. "Maybe...maybe we can."
Rodney's mouth tilted up on one side and he moved a step or two closer to John. He raised one hand as if he was going to touch John then dropped it. "Maybe..." The hope on his face loosened something in John's chest, and suddenly he could breathe again. "We should probably think about it."
"Yeah, thinking's good." John motioned toward the door, not even fighting the smile that stole over his face. "Let's go get this deal over with so we can go home."
"Good idea," said Rodney, as he preceded John out the door. "And you know what else is a good idea? Turning down any drinks they offer us at breakfast."