Entry tags:

fic, mcsheep, mcshep, sga

FIC: How to Improve Your Marriage Without Talking About It (1/2) (SGA, John/Rodney, NC-17)
Title: How to Improve Your Marriage Without Talking About It
Author: causeways
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: John/Rodney
Word Count: 14,427
Disclaimer: So not mine, sadly.
Summary: If you asked John, the part where he had to marry Rodney to save him from the poisoned brownie he ate off-world? It never happened.
Author's Notes: Thanks to notthequiettype and reallythateasy for the prompt (where by thanks I really mean BLAME), and to walkawayslowly for making this awesome in every possible way, including but not limited to betaing, hand-holding and loving on the McSheep. Set sometime in the middle of S2.

How to Improve Your Marriage Without Talking About It

i.

"And finally, we of the Yaeti would like to thank our visitors for their generosity and present them with these tokens of our gratitude, so that they too might flourish as the Yaeti now can, thanks to our visitors' aid," said the chief, gesturing magnificently toward the kitchens.

"Oh God, what now?" John said sideways out of his mouth to Teyla.

Teyla made a quiet shh-ing sound and went back to staring intently at the chief and his entourage. It was entirely possible that there was a cause for nervousness there, but then again, Teyla used that same stare on her breakfast Jell-O – it wasn't exactly a sure sign of danger. It was just enough to get John's heart rate spiking a little. Across from her, Rodney was staring at the roast in the middle of the long table and looking like he was going to jump over and start eating it at any second, and Ronon was looking bored. John would have bet money that he was playing with one of his knives under the table.

". . . Therefore we would like to offer our visitors the chance to partake in one of the most ancient ceremonies of our people," the chief was saying, "one which we only offer to those whom we hold in the highest regard . . ."

"You look tense," John whispered. "Why do you look tense?"

Teyla frowned. "I know that our hosts have been nothing but hospitable, but something makes me think that there is more to these people than it would seem," she whispered back. "I would advise against participating in any ritual of theirs until we know more about them."

"Wasn't exactly planning on it," John said.

". . . and so we would like for the Great Feast of Algoon to begin this year with our guests," the chief continued. Trumpets sounded from along the sides of the room, and the huge pair of double doors at the end of the room opened to reveal a beautiful young woman in a sparkling white robe carrying an enormous golden platter loaded with what looked like very fancy dessert.

She walked up to the end of the long table and said, "Who shall be the first to participate in the Feast?"

"I do not know much about these people," Teyla said quietly, "but I have heard rumors of many strange things—"

Teyla was still talking, but out of the corner of his eye he saw Rodney talking to the Yaeti woman holding the tray, then making an enthusiastic grab for one of the cakes.

"Rodney, wait!" John yelled, but it was too late: he'd already taken an enormous bite of it, smearing chocolate all over his face.

"This is delicious," Rodney said happily, and passed out.

*

When Rodney came to, he was in a room full of women. It was kind of bizarre. Whatever it was he'd eaten, it was awesome—it had kind of tasted like a fudge nut brownie, and better yet, it had taken the edge off his hunger. He wasn't hungry at all, actually, which was weird—he couldn't even remember the last time he was completely not hungry. Probably when he was still on Earth, that night he cooked four Hungry Man XXL dinners and ate them all in one sitting. That was a good night. Usually he couldn't think about Hungry Man dinners without getting totally hungry again, but right then not even that was enough to make him hungry. Totally bizarre. He was pretty sure there had to have been some kind of drug in that brownie, because he couldn't figure out how else that would have been enough to fill him up. He was also pretty sure of it because he was in a room full of women, and ordinarily that would be enough to make him break out in hives that looked a whole lot like the ones he got when he consumed something that contained citrus and came close to death, but right now he was feeling pretty calm about the whole thing.

Really calm, actually, and the air felt different than usual—heavier, like it was actually water instead of air, or maybe it was just his arms that were heavy, and God, yes, there had definitely been drugs, and that should have been freaking him out, that there had been drugs, but the drugs were even taking away his ability to freak out, which, okay. He was okay with that. Thanks to the drugs.

Anyway, the women were all wearing shiny low-cut robes in various bright colors. They were also all really incredibly pretty—like, quite possibly the prettiest roomful of women he'd ever been dropped into in his life. He felt a little bit like he'd just been dropped into the middle of a Miss Yaeti pageant. He was even wearing a robe like the rest of theirs, which was just weird, although at least his was navy blue and not hot pink or something.

"Oh!" one of the women said. "Look, Dr. Rodney McKay is awake!"

"Um, yes," Rodney said. "Yes, I am. What am I doing here exactly? And where is the rest of my team?"

"Oh, do not worry about them," said the woman nearest him, a brunette in a bright blue robe. "They are perfectly fine."

Rodney was reasonably sure that under ordinary circumstances he'd be very freaked out right now. He was in a room full of women—there had to be at least fifty of them—and usually that would be an extremely stressful environment for him. It was kind of hard to freak out when he felt so calm, though.

"Okay," he said. "So what am I doing here?"

"Preparing to participate in the ritual, of course," said a younger woman in a green robe.

"Oh, yes, of course," Rodney said. "What am I going to have to do, exactly?"

The women giggled. It was a good thing the drug was keeping him so calm, because otherwise he would have been out of there so fast. Fifty women giggling all at once! That was creepy.

"Well, first you need to choose one of us to join you in performing the ritual," the blue-robed woman explained.

"Choose?" Rodney said. "Any one of you? It doesn't matter which one?'

The women all looked baffled. "Whichever one of us you'd most like to join you in the ritual," the same woman said.

"All right, then." Since he didn't have a clue what the ritual was going to entail—and if there was one thing he'd learned since he'd been in the Pegasus Galaxy, it was never to assume that the aliens weren't going to make you do something totally crazy, like have three-legged races with dog-like creatures chasing after you (and Rodney was so never going to back Axeilu ever again)—Rodney picked a woman who looked like she'd be good in a fight: a youngish brunette in a pale green robe.

"Megya," the woman in the blue robe said. "She is a good choice."

"Yes, of course, I have excellent taste," Rodney said, turning toward a sound coming from behind him: a set of doors had opened out of the wall, and he and Megya were being herded toward them. "What's going on? Where are you taking us?"

"To perform the ritual," Megya said, placing a hand on Rodney's arm.

"Oh, okay," Rodney said. He thought vaguely that maybe he should push her hand off, but that would have been too much effort.

She led him down a long hallway that might have had curved walls—although that might have been the drugs talking—and then through another set of doors onto what looked to be some sort of platform. It might have been a stage, but there were these really bright lights shining directly into his eyes, so he couldn't be entirely certain.

Megya took his hand and led him to the center of the platform, where there was a piece of furniture that looked like an extremely large and comfortable bed. Lying down on it would probably feel amazing right now. It looked like it would have silk sheets. Rodney liked silk.

"It is time to perform the ritual," Megya said.

"Which entails what, exactly? I'm still not quite clear on—"

Megya looked pointedly at the bed, then at Rodney, toying with the edge of her robe.

"Oh dear God, 'perform the ritual' was just a terrible euphemism all this time," Rodney said weakly. "You want me to have sex with you?"

Distantly Rodney was aware that there were other voices in the room with him, but the lights were very bright and he was on a lot of drugs and the voices may very well have been in his own head anyway, so he ignored them for the time being and concentrated on the very pressing issues at hand, which was Megya biting her lip and saying, "Indeed, that is part of the ritual."

"Oh," Rodney said, breaking free of her grip and backing away quickly. "I'm sorry, Megya. You're a very beautiful woman, and I'm sure lots of men would love to, uh, perform the ritual with you! But I can't."

"What do you mean, you can't?" Megya said, looking deeply troubled. "But you have to. You ate the Fruit of Sagoon. You have to perform the ritual."

"No, I mean, I can't," Rodney said. "I'm gay."

The voices Rodney had been hearing in the background went completely silent, except for one.

"Seriously?" Sheppard said.

Suddenly Rodney could see past the lights and into the room. He was back in the banquet hall, which was filled with all the people from before, including Ronon, Teyla and Sheppard, all of whom had front-row seats near the stage, right next to the chief.

The entire room was giving him the same puzzled look as Megya, who said, "I do not understand this word 'gay'. What does it mean?"

"It means I don't sleep with women," Rodney said serenely. "It means I prefer men."

Ronon and Teyla exchanged a look that Rodney was reasonably sure he should be getting worked up over—a look that contained a whole lot of, "I thought so." Sheppard's expression was unreadable.

"Oh dear," said the chief. "That does change things, doesn't it."

Rodney looked down at his robe. "Can I have my clothes back now? And can somebody please tell me what's going on?"

*

Rodney felt a whole lot better after he lost the robe. The drug was definitely still in his system, though, because Sheppard was doing that hissing thing he did when he was too angry to yell, and it wasn't even fazing Rodney. It was kind of incredible.

"You don't have any idea what you ate, or what effects it could be having on your body right now, other than that it apparently made you agree to participate in a sex ritual—"

"I didn't agree to it," Rodney told him. "And I didn't actually participate in it, anyway!"

"Yeah, because you're gay," Sheppard said. "Speaking of which, did it not occur to you anytime in the past year that that might be something I'd want to know?"

Rodney managed to get a little worked up at that even through the drugs. "Sorry if announcing I was gay to a mostly military operation didn't sound like the best idea ever, Colonel."

Sheppard made a frustrated noise. "I didn't mean announcing it to the entire operation, Rodney. I just meant you could have told me. Because we're friends."

Rodney felt like eight kinds of asshole. "We're friends?" he said.

Sheppard sighed heavily. "Yes, Rodney. We're friends."

Rodney tried unsuccessfully to stop flushing. "Oh. Very well, then." He was sort of awful at apologies; that was really about as good as it was going get. Sheppard's face relaxed a little, though, which had to mean he understood—which, huh, maybe they really were friends. The thought made something tighten in Rodney's chest.

A thought occurred to him, and then the moment was broken. "What happened to Ronon and Teyla?" Rodney asked.

"Oh," Sheppard said. "They're off talking to the Yaeti chief, trying to figure out exactly what it is you ate and what ritual you were supposed to be a part of." Any fondness that might have been on his face before was completely gone.

Rodney swallowed. "Oh. That's—yes, well. That's probably a good idea."

"I thought so too," Sheppard drawled, eyes narrowed, and they sat down to wait.

*

"I have some good news," Teyla said when she and Ronon walked in half an hour later.

"You do?" Rodney said, sitting up straight in his chair.

"Yes." Teyla hesitated, then continued slowly, "I also have some other news which might be slightly less to your liking."

"Okay," John said slowly. "And the good news is?"

"I was able to learn about this ritual that Dr. McKay was meant to have taken part in. It is . . . strange."

"Strange," Rodney said. "What do you mean, strange?" He was still speaking at about half the rate of normal—which was still about eight times faster than any normal human being—but he looked a little more stressed than he had before, actually flapping his hands around a little and snapping his fingers in exacerbation, which was good: maybe it meant that the drug was leaving his system.

Teyla hesitated, then said, "It is called the Ritual of Algoon. It is meant to be carried out as a form of worship to the god Agnot."

"Have you heard of this god before?" John asked.

Teyla nodded. "Yes. Many peoples on many worlds worship him."

"Yes, yes, that's lovely, but what was this ritual going to be, exactly?" Rodney asked.

"I am afraid that that is the bad news," Teyla said, her forehead wrinkled like she was distinctly sorry to have to be telling them this at all.

Rodney made an impatient noise. "Well, go on!"

Teyla took a deep breath. "It is a bonding ritual," she said.

Rodney stared. "A bonding ritual?"

"Yes." Teyla nodded. "The cake you consumed contains the extract of a fern called kallwot. It grows in the forests of my people as well, and our children all know that it is one of the plants of the forest that is not safe to eat."

"Great," Rodney said.

"The Yaeti claim that it is safe to consume as long as it is properly counteracted within a certain amount of time."

"How much time?" Rodney asked.

"Twenty-four hours," Ronon said.

"Oh, that's okay then," Rodney said.

John stared at him. "It is?"

"Well, it can't have been anywhere near twenty-four hours yet," Rodney said. "Just get me the antidote and everything will be fine, we can go home, no harm done."

"You do not understand," Teyla said. "There is no . . . antidote, really."

Rodney's jaw dropped. "But you just said it could be counteracted!"

"Yes, but not through the use of another medicine," Teyla said urgently. "The Yaeti claim that the only means of counteracting the plant would involve going through with the ritual."

"Really," John said slowly. "And that makes sense how, exactly?"

"I do not know," Teyla said. "But I know this: when they are children, my people are warned more strictly against the consumption of this plant than against any other plant that grows in our forests. No one in my village understands all of the properties of this fern, but they know that it is deadly. So if the Yaeti are knowledgeable enough about the uses of this fern to know that the ritual is the only way of counteracting its effects of the plant, then we might want to seriously consider trusting them about this."

"Trusting them?" John said incredulously. "Basically what you're saying here is that if Rodney doesn't have sex within the next twenty-four hours, he's going to die."

"He has to take part in a binding ceremony, yes," Teyla said.

"I think we might want to speak with Elizabeth," John said. He couldn't decide which urge was stronger: the urge to bury his head in his hands or the urge to push Rodney up against a wall and strangle him.

*

Elizabeth was silent for a long beat, then said, "So if he'd actually gone through with this ritual, Rodney would be married to a Yaeti woman right now?"

"That is correct," Teyla said, glancing at Rodney.

"Not that I'm saying it's a bad thing that you didn't do it, but why exactly didn't you go ahead with the ritual?"

"Because I'm gay," Rodney told her, and oh yeah, the drug was definitely still in his system. Saying that wasn't making him freak out at all.

"Ah, " Elizabeth said. "All right, then. So what are we going to do here, Rodney?"

"Wait, that's really all you have to say about it?" Rodney said. "I mean—that's not going to be a problem or anything?"

Even over the radio, Rodney could hear her trying very hard not to laugh. "I think we have more pressing issues at hand, Rodney," she said finally.

"Oh! Yes, that. Well, I'm sure if we come back to Atlantis Dr. Beckett will be able to come up with something," Rodney said.

"In the next . . . how long do you still have? Twenty hours?" Elizabeth sounded dubious. "Dr. Beckett is good, but you're talking about isolating an unknown drug and creating an antidote for it from scratch when people who commonly use it have already said that none exists."

"Which is a good reason not to use the drug in the first place," Rodney said.

"That coming from the guy who ingested it, never mind," Sheppard said.

"Gentlemen," Elizabeth said. "This isn't helping."

"Gee, you think?" Rodney snapped. "Tell that to Lieutenant Colonel Obvious here."

Elizabeth sighed. "Sounds like the sedative part of the drug is wearing off at least."

"Oh, huh, you're right," Rodney said. "I hadn't even realized. Maybe they were lying about how long the drug lasts, and it's already worn off, and we can go home and forget this whole thing ever happened! Right, well, I have all sorts of simulations I need to get back to, so—"

Teyla shook her head, though, and over the radio Elizabeth was saying, "We can't assume anything. I'm not willing to take that big of a risk with your life, Rodney. Are you?"

Rodney opened and closed his mouth.

"He's not," Sheppard answered for him.

"I didn't think so," Elizabeth said. "Now look, I have an idea. But you're probably not going to like it."

*

"No way," John said. "Not a chance in hell, Elizabeth. I'm sorry."

"You're not willing to do this to save Rodney's life?" Elizabeth said.

"I thought you said we were friends, Colonel," Rodney said, the corners of his mouth falling down hilariously. He looked like John had just drowned his pet.

"We are," John said a little desperately, although it was sort of weird to say it out loud like that—not like everyone didn't already know they were friends or anything, but it wasn't something they were supposed to talk about. "But don't you think this kind of goes above and beyond the lines of friendship?"

"I would do it for you!" Rodney said.

"You're gay!"

"We've established that!"

"I'm not!" John told him.

"You wouldn't be willing to sleep with me even if it meant I was going to die if you didn't?" Rodney snapped, the color high in his cheeks, and John pretty much felt like the world's biggest asshole.

"Fine," John said. "Fine! If it meant saving your life then yes, Rodney, I would sleep with you."

Rodney let out a huge breath. "You would? Oh, thank God. That's—well, yes, very good. I'm not going to die."

Elizabeth coughed. "I'm hoping it isn't going to come down to that. From what Teyla was saying, it seemed like the bonding ritual itself was the important thing, and that the, well, consummation of that bond was only part of it. I'm hoping the consummation might not be necessary."

"Aren't they the same thing?" Rodney asked.

"I'm not sure," Elizabeth said. "Teyla, do you think you could find that out?"

"I will do my best," Teyla said.

"In the meantime, Rodney, I want you to take a blood sample and send it back through the stargate with Ronon. I'll have Dr. Beckett start analyzing it immediately."

"Very well," Rodney said, digging through the pile of their gear for the emergency medical kit they'd brought with them from the puddlejumper.

"And John?" Elizabeth said.

"What?" John said warily.

"Thank you. And try not to panic."

John felt the sides of his mouth quirking downwards. "It's a little too late for that," he said.

*

Astonishingly, it turned out that Elizabeth was right: it really was just the bonding that mattered, and not the sex. The Yaeti chief was baffled as to why Rodney wouldn't want to take part in the worship of Agnot, and there was a particularly tense moment when Rodney insisted that he wasn't going to marry any of the Yaeti whether the chief went and hunted down potentially willing men or not, but eventually Teyla managed to smooth things over.

John sort of wished she hadn't, because that meant that he found himself standing next to Rodney in the middle of the Yaeti ceremonial hall while the chief called upon Agnot to bless their union and the Yaeti sang and chanted and Teyla looked on. It wasn't that different from a wedding on Earth, really, except for how it was by far the strangest thing that had ever happend to John, and since that list included relocating to another galaxy and turning most of the way into a giant bug, that was kind of saying something.

After what seemed like a good twenty minutes of calling upon Agnot, the chief pulled out a pair of matching gold rings—pretty much identical to every other pair of wedding bands John had ever seen—and handed one to each of them. "The bond will not be completed until you have placed these on each other's fingers," he said, and so John took Rodney's hand and slid it onto his ring finger and Rodney did the same for him. It felt a little weird as the band went on, like it was shrinking to fit him.

The chief said, "The bond is complete," and the ring bit down on John's finger.

"Ow," John said, just as Rodney yelled, "Jesus, what was that?" but by then the biting sensation had already stopped and instead his hand just tingled a little.

"The bond is complete," the chief said, spreading his arms out wide.

"What now?" Rodney hissed. "Do you want to, uh, shake hands or something?"

John wasn't entirely sure what made him do it. Maybe it was just because this was a wedding, and that was what you did at weddings, even ones where you were marrying your gay best friend to save him from the poisoned pot brownie he'd eaten. Or maybe it was just because he was completely insane, but John ignored Rodney's outstretched hand, grabbed Rodney by the shoulder and kissed him.

Rodney made a surprised little mmph noise and leaned in toward John, grabbing both of his shoulders and really kissing him, mouth open and everything, and John pretty much fell over in shock.

It wasn't long before Rodney pulled away—it couldn't have been long—and the crowd started clapping.

"Uh," Rodney said, flushing. "That was—sorry about that." He was breathing hard. So was John.

"You know that wasn't—we aren't going to—" John tried to say.

"Right, no, of course not," Rodney said hastily.

"Good. Because—yeah. Can we never speak of this again?"

"Definitely," Rodney said. "Not speaking. Done."

They didn't say anything for a long, awkward moment. John looked at his feet.

"Anyway!" Rodney said brightly. "Can we get back to Atlantis now?"

"That's the best idea I've heard all day," John said. When he clenched his left hand into a fist, he could feel the ring digging into his skin.

*

"I've got some good news, and I've got some better news," Beckett said. "The good news is that Rodney isn't going to die."

"Oh, thank God," Rodney said. Beckett was his favorite person in the world. Beckett was his favorite person in every galaxy that existed.

"I still can't figure out just what that toxin was that was in your blood—it's terribly complex—but the important thing is that all of it is gone. There's not even a trace of it left in your system."

"That is good news," Elizabeth said, glancing between Rodney and Sheppard. "So the bonding ceremony must really have worked."

"Or something," Beckett said. "I don't know what did it, but as long as the toxin's gone, we'll consider that good enough for the moment."

Sheppard was standing on the far side of the counter and looking anywhere but at Rodney. Rodney wondered if Sheppard was as completely aware of the ring as he was. It didn't hurt or anything, it was just that he couldn't seem to stop playing with it, that was all.

"And the better news is, I know what those rings released into your bloodstream when they pinched you," Beckett said.

"Wait, what?" Rodney said. "How is that better news than the fact that I'm not going to die?"

They all completely ignored him, heartless bastards that they were, and Elizabeth said, "So what was it, exactly?"

Beckett coughed. "An aphrodisiac."

Sheppard's eyes snapped to Beckett. "A what?"

"Just a mild one," Beckett said quickly, "but it seems to be geared toward, ah, how shall I say this. The wearer of the other ring."

"So what you're saying is, there's a customized aphrodisiac in my system right now?" Sheppard sounded about as dangerous as Rodney had ever heard him. "Customized to McKay?"

Beckett actually took a step backwards. "Well, yes, but—"

"Can you fix it?" Sheppard said. "Or block it or something?"

"I should be able to, yes," Beckett said, his brow wrinkled. "Just give me half an hour."

Sheppard relaxed visibly. Rodney swallowed. So that probably explained why Sheppard had kissed him. Rodney wasn't disappointed; that wasn't the right word, because Sheppard was only doing this because he had to do, to save Rodney's life, and Sheppard was straight, and nothing was ever going to come of this. Rodney was just going to put the whole thing out of his mind and take off the ring, and everything was going to go back to being normal.

*

The ring wouldn't come off. John had tried every goddamned thing he could think of in the hour since Beckett had sent him and Rodney away—to their separate quarters, because no way in hell was John going to stick around Rodney when he was under the influence of an aphrodisiac that was supposedly making him want to sleep with Rodney—and the ring wouldn't freaking come off, not even when John ran his hand under hot water and used soap or rubbed oil on it or beat it against the wall.

His hand was throbbing from all of it by the time Beckett finally called him back to the clinic and gave him and Rodney a shot.

"Thank God that's over with," John said afterwards. He didn't really feel any different, but then again for all he'd been worrying about, he hadn't really wanted to jump Rodney's bones even when the aphrodisiac was in him.

Beckett ran a couple more tests and decided that the antidote had worked, so they could leave, so John said thanks and left.

As soon as they were outside of the clinic, though, Rodney cornered him. "Colonel Sheppard," he said, getting a little closer in to John's personal space than he really would have liked. "Your ring. Have you tried—"

"Taking it off?" John said in a low voice. "Yeah, about that." He held up his hand. It was still red and splotchy from the hot water. "No such luck."

"Me neither," Rodney said. His hand looked just as bad as John's. "That's sort of—worrying, don't you think?"

John clenched his jaw. "I'll say."

"We should maybe go look in the lab," Rodney said. "See if the Ancients had anything about this in their database."

John definitely should have thought of that before he started whacking his hand against the wall. "Right," he said, exhaling heavily. "Let's get on that."

But before they could, their headsets came on and Elizabeth said, "Rodney? John? I'd like to see you in my office, if you have a minute."

Rodney looked at John, then said to Elizabeth, "Can it wait?"

"It's probably better if it doesn't," she said.

*

"Gentlemen," Elizabeth said as they walked into her office. "I've got some news."

"Isn't this just a red letter day," Rodney said.

"Good news or bad?" John asked. Elizabeth hesitated a second before answering, so John just went ahead and said for her, "I'll take that as a bad."

"Not bad so much as interesting," she amended.

"I'm not a huge fan of interesting. I'm a much bigger fan of 'really, really good', myself," John said, while Rodney fidgeted next to him.

"Aren't we all," Elizabeth mused. "Are you all right, Rodney?"

"Yes!" Rodney said. "Yes, yes, I'm completely fine, really, don't have any idea why you would ask."

"Are you sure about that? Because you look a little—"

"It's the rings," Rodney blurted out. "They won't come off."

"Rodney. I thought we were going to look in the database before we said anything," John hissed.

"She was giving me a look!" Rodney said.

"Traitor," John said, glaring at him.

"John," Elizabeth said. Then, to Rodney: "What have you tried?"

"Everything short of looking in the Ancient database," Rodney said. "You called right before we got around to that."

"That's somewhat troubling," Elizabeth said, "but yes, do check the database and see if the Ancients have anything to say about this. Hopefully it won't end up meaning anything—"

"Yeah, because that's likely," John said.

"—but I'm afraid that I have some more news about this ritual," Elizabeth continued. "I spoke with Teyla a little while ago. She said that one of the Yaeti elders approached her as you were leaving."

"She did?" John said.

"Yes, she did," Elizabeth said. "And apparently the elder told her that there's a certain . . . condition that needs to be carried out, after a bonding ceremony has taken place. He said it was important that the newly bonded pair sleep in close proximity."

"In close proximity," Rodney said. "That's—that's not particularly convenient, but I think there might be an open set of quarters on the next corridor over from mine—"

"I'm not moving out of my room!" John said.

"Gentlemen." Elizabeth's tone of voice was enough to make both of them stop talking and look at her, which in Rodney's case was really saying something. She sounded tired, or possibly like she wanted to hit somebody. Probably Rodney, if John had to guess—he just had that kind of effect on people. "Being on the next corridor over isn't going to cut it. The elder told Teyla you need to be in the same bed."

There was a moment of horrified silence.

"This is the part where you're completely and utterly kidding, right?" John said.

Rodney snapped his fingers. "Wait, I've got it: it's April Fool's on Earth, isn't it? It has to be. It's, yes, convert the months to—No, wait, it's only mid-March. You're not kidding, are you? This is—this is not good."

Elizabeth let out the most long-suffering sigh John had ever heard, and started talking. Sometime around the middle of the sentence, "I think they might have found another set of quarters with a larger bed in them in that new wing down by the clinic," it hit John that she might not actually be joking.

*

"That's it?" Sheppard said. "That's all you've got?"

Rodney looked down at the box in his hands. It contained a pillow, his favorite of the Athosian blankets—one that finally wasn't scratchy, and probably that meant it was made out of some giant space insect's secretions, but he so didn't care—a hand towel, toiletries and his pajamas. It was a completely logical set of items to be bringing with him when they were going to be sleeping in the same room. "What do you mean?"

Sheppard stared at him. "I mean, where's the rest of your stuff? I know you have more crap than that. Elizabeth said you brought more contraband than any other person on the mission—"

"That is a lie," Rodney said. He hadn't brought that much extra stuff (nothing that wasn't absolutely vital to the success of the mission, anyway); just a few bags of coffee, that was all, things that he was fairly certain were going to run out soon—and he'd been right, coffee really did come at a premium here. Anyway, Rodney's stash was pretty well entirely depleted by now, so he didn't have that many personal items anymore. The six redundant external hard drives and the three laptops that contained his research were all team gear.

"Anyway," Sheppard continued. "What'd you do with the rest of your stuff?"

"I don't understand," Rodney said. "It's still in my room, where else would it—" And then finally, at Sheppard's puzzled expression, he gets it. "Oh my God, you're talking about actually moving in here! I never even—"

"You never even what?" Sheppard asked, eyes narrowing.

"We just have to sleep together, not actually co-inhabit!" Rodney knew exactly how bad that must have come out from the fact that his ears were turning red; he could feel it. "I'm not giving up my old quarters. You must be out of your mind."

"So you're really planning on sleeping here and showering and changing and everything else over there?" Sheppard said, one eyebrow raised.

"Yes," Rodney said. "I don't see why not." And in fact there were about a dozen reasons why it was a really good idea to keep his old quarters, actually, including but not limited to the fact that being naked in a bathroom that was attached to a room that contained Colonel Sheppard was absolutely a disaster waiting to happen, but of course Sheppard wouldn't think of that, because Sheppard was straight.

"I don't know," Sheppard said. "It just seems a little inefficient, that's all."

"Inefficient?" Rodney said. "Well, yeah, but how permanent do you really think this arrangement is going to be? Give me and Zelenka a couple hours with the Ancient database and I'm sure we'll find something."

Rodney had wanted to start searching immediately after they'd spoken with Elizabeth earlier, but Dr. Beckett, bane of Rodney's existence that he was, had forbidden him from any work until the next morning at least, because, "There might still be some lingering side effects of the drug you took." When Rodney had made the point that there weren't going to be any lingering side effects of a drug that was no longer in his system, Beckett had threatened to put him in the clinic for 24-hour observation because, "It sounds like you might need it."

"That won't be necessary," Rodney had said, which was how he'd found himself searching for a larger set of quarters with Sheppard, who apparently wanted them to live together.

"A couple hours to figure this out? Really?" Sheppard said.

"We've significantly improved our search algorithms, so yes, a couple of uninterrupted hours should be sufficient," Rodney said.

"Uninterrupted being the key word here," Sheppard muttered. "Whatever. You can do whatever you want, but right now I'm going to bed in my new quarters."

"I really hate you sometimes," Rodney said. "I just want you to know that."

Sheppard did that really hideously annoying thing where he pretended Rodney didn't exist at all. Rodney sighed in frustration and went and changed in the bathroom. He felt stupid and overly modest for changing in the bathroom instead of in the middle of the room, like he was a twelve-year-old girl blushing around the high school boys. It was stupid. He wasn't the one who had issues sleeping with other men.

He was slightly gratified when he went back into the room after brushing his teeth and Sheppard went into the bathroom to change, too. Slightly gratified, at least, until he saw all of Sheppard's stuff—every single damned thing he owned, all neatly placed all over the room—and maybe this wasn't supposed to be a contest, but Rodney wasn't about to lose, damn it. He sort of wanted to go ahead and get his stuff now, but he was already yawning, and the bed was larger and did look more comfortable than the one in his quarters. Plus it had another of the non-scratchy Athosian blankets on top of it, which was always a plus. He slid down under the covers, stuffing his pillow under his head, and fell asleep pretty much instantly.

*

John really didn't think he was being all that illogical with his whole moving-into-the-new-quarters plan. He had no interest in having half of his stuff in one place and half of his stuff in another—talk about things that would be a pain in the ass—and Rodney couldn't really have any idea of how long it would take to figure this whole thing out. Regardless of how long it actually ended up taking, John was pretty damned sure it was going to be longer than a couple of hours, and if they were going to be stuck in this arrangement indefinitely, it made a whole lot of sense to go ahead and get used to it. Plus, whether Rodney had noticed it or not, these quarters were a whole lot nicer than either of their old rooms. This place had a balcony, even, which John was looking forward to using as much as humanly possible.

This was all completely logical, at least, until it came down to the actual sharing-a-bed-with-Rodney part. It wasn't about the gay thing—John would have been willing to stake his life on the fact that Rodney wasn't going to try anything—and it definitely wasn't about the bed. The bed itself was amazing, definitely the best bed John had run across in Pegasus. He'd gotten used to thinking of them as small and slightly lumpy, with a tendency to slant toward one side or the other—when he'd first arrived, John had woken up on the floor most days—but this bed was amazing, huge and just the right amount of squishy. John had absolutely no complaints about the bed.

No, it was about the fact that Rodney McKay was by far the worst bedmate John had ever had in his life. The guy was like a combination of all of the worst things about old people and little kids: snoring like train and flailing his limbs around like he was trying to do his best impression of an octopus. And the worst thing was, while John knew for a fact that the longest Rodney had slept consecutively since 1987 was four and a half hours, during those few hours? Rodney was completely unwakeable.

It was totally fucking miserable. They hadn't gotten around to moving a couch into these quarters yet, but if they had, John absolutely would have been sleeping on it.

*

part two