Pairing: Jennifer/Rodney, John/Jennifer/Rodney
Contains: AMTDI and resulting dub-con, aphrodisiacs, drugged sex, explicit het, explicit M/M/F threesome.
Author's Notes: Thank you for the awesome set of prompts, ladysorka! I hope I've hit at least a few of your buttons here. Beta by M, the bestest, and all mistakes left are my own. Please highlight the "Contains" notes for any possible triggering material.
Summary: Sex at a science convention! What could be better?
Jennifer has been Colonel Sheppard's primary care physician for six years. She's fixed everything from tentacle wounds to purple chicken pox and a million things in between. She'd originally thought he was asexual; Carson mentioned a few encounters offworld in his early files, but for the first several years, whenever she'd asked him about sexual activity, he'd simply say "None." Carson didn't specify much of anything except treatment, if he'd given it. He'd used the names of John's partners and their planet designations only, no reference to gender. She'd assumed they were women because Rodney's always talked about John's way with women, what a Kirk he was.
It was stupid to have let Rodney's opinions on the matter influence her. As John details a laundry list of men he's been with since his last exam, she keeps herself from rolling her eyes. He's not doing it to get a rise out of her any more, and she's glad he's being sexually satisfied, but she's more concerned about his health. "Protected sex?" she asks.
"Always," he answers, with a smug smirk.
"We should run a battery anyway," she says. "It's been a while since you've been tested."
John nods and she takes the necessary swabs and blood and labels the fluids carefully, patient number only. She'll run the tests herself - her staff is professional, but she always does the tests for senior-level staff, just for her own peace of mind.
"I'll let you know if anything turns up," Jennifer says. "No news is good news, okay?"
"Okay," John says, jumping off the table and starting to get dressed.
She used to think he was punishing her - giving her this knowledge about him in a way that meant she was obligated to keep it secret. She thought maybe he was telling her more than his preference for men, that maybe he was telling her of his preference for a particular man. He'd only become sexually active once she and Rodney became a steady couple - or he'd only started telling her during his exams, anyway. She and Rodney'd had a few rocky months in the beginning, and she'd gotten the feeling that John's ever-present smirk was actually aimed at her, that he was telling her not to bother, Rodney wasn't worth it, just leave him to his boy's club.
That'd been exactly the thing that made her take a long, hard look at their relationship: where it was headed, what she was trying to get out of it. She'd stopped trying to shape Rodney into the person she wanted and started to appreciate him the way his team did - flaws and all. He was a better person around them, around John especially, and Jennifer realized that Rodney was someone she wanted to be with, exactly the way he was. She still set some ground rules; even if she accepted Rodney warts and all, she wasn't about to let him walk all over her.
Once she stopped trying to change Rodney, she got along better with his team. John especially seemed to warm to her like he hadn't before. When he'd started to tell her about his sexual encounters during his physicals, she'd thought of it as a confession. He'd never mentioned Rodney explicitly, but the timing and the circumstance were tough to dismiss. Maybe it was his blessing; they got along better after that, and he went from being Colonel Sheppard to Sheppard to John. He trusted her - not just about his sex life, he trusted her judgment, too. He asked her opinion on medical emergencies instead of steamrolling over her. He smiled at her when she came along to team movie nights. He volunteered to escort her on humanitarian missions, and they got into and out of several scrapes together.
"Doc?" John asks, now fully dressed and waiting for her say-so.
"Oh, sorry," she says, waving the tubes in the air. "Woolgathering. You're good to go."
"Everything okay?" he asks, and she sighs. She's almost certain now, that he's in love with Rodney and has been for a long time, but she's got decent enough self-preservation instincts and she doesn't say anything. She's never talked to Rodney explicitly about it, but Rodney never mentioned men, not even when Jennifer brought up her fling with her roommate in college. She used to feel jealous about John. Now she just feels wistful. She can't decide if John's having sex with that many men because his appetite is honestly that huge, or if he's trying to drown his sorrows and forget about his feelings for Rodney.
"Fine," she answers, finally. "Just thoughtful today. Remember to stretch more after running - the older you get..."
"Don't remind me," John says, giving her a wry smile. "I will. Take it easy."
Jennifer sighs as she watches him saunter out.
The senior staff meeting is all abuzz with their invitation to M3X-496, to what sounds like a scientific convention. There's an open invitation for anyone from Atlantis to present on any topic, and several programs from previous conventions so they know what type of information is useful. The programs are in some kind of Ancient dialect; Jennifer has to concentrate and there are a few words she doesn't know, but the programs are pretty readable to her eye.
Teyla'd asked her earlier in the week to present something and there was no way she was going to pass up the chance. She got snatched up by the SGC before she had a chance to give lectures or present papers, and she's always wanted to go to professional conventions. She knows Rodney hasn't presented much either, but he was doing a hearty circuit before the SGC got him on their payroll full time. Judging by the incident with Tunney, he misses it.
"It's an honor, being invited to speak," Teyla says.
"Yes, well, of course, the question is what to present," Rodney says. "We don't want to go too far over their heads, there'd be no point. But they don't need me to present basic care and feeding of a jumper - Zelenka could do that just fine, and I wouldn't have to waste any of my valuable time."
"I thought you would want to go," Teyla says. "Since Jennifer will be presenting on manufacturing analgesics."
"You what?" Rodney asks, turning to her. "You're really going to give a lecture?"
Jennifer smiles. "Yep. With a powerpoint presentation and handouts, too."
"And John will be demonstrating basic large-scale defense strategies for towns and villages."
Rodney turns his glare on John. "You're going too?"
"Using legos as demonstration tools," John says, and Jennifer can't suppress a grin.
When Rodney turns to him, Ronon says, "Teaching survival skills," and Rodney's face falls.
"Fine. I'll present... something."
"Naquadah is a very common resource in the Pegasus galaxy," Teyla urges. "I am sure a presentation on refinement would be greatly beneficial to many worlds."
Rodney rolls his eyes. "Yes, fine, I will present on naquadah refinement. But there better be really good food at this conference."
"It's not the Hilton," Rodney says, but as Jennifer looks up and up and up the sixteen story building, she doesn't care. She tends to go to the less developed worlds when she goes offworld, and she'd been worried they were going to stay in yurts.
"We are all slated on the eleventh floor," Teyla says, after talking to someone that looks like a concierge. "The Athosians as well," she adds, "so if you want to pick a particular room, we should go up."
The elevator is a smooth ride; Jennifer's quite impressed with the city so far. It looks big by Pegasus standards, maybe thirty thousand people.
There are no locks on the doors, which is less strange than Jennifer thought it would be. She's finally gotten used to the mental door locks on Atlantis. Teyla immediately heads away from the elevator, walking down to the other end of the hall. "That's smart," Jennifer says, and grabs Rodney by the arm, pulling him along behind her.
"You never want to be near the elevator," Jennifer says when Rodney complains about his delicate skin chafing.
"She's right," John says, poking his head into the room across the hall from Teyla and Kanaan. "Why don't you two take this one," he says, leaving the door open.
It's a corner room, so there are windows on two sides and a beautiful view of the city, nearly glowing pink in the reflected light of the sunset. "Ooh," Jennifer says, dropping her duffel on the bed and going over to look out at the city. "Why don't we take this one."
John gives her a grin before he leaves the room and she hears him go into the room next door. He comes back into their room half a minute later and stares out the windows with them, arms crossed and a satisfied smile on his face.
The hospitality house has room service. Jennifer hadn't expected anything quite so hotel-like, but she's glad to have the option as she glances over the symposium schedule. There will be a lot of running around during the day, especially if she wants to see any of the other Atlantis personnel's lectures. She might not feel up to socializing over dinner, too.
The menu is in the same variant of Ancient that the rest of the documents have been in, and it only takes her a few minutes to decipher. She looks things over before asking Teyla and Ronon about it and taking notes on the dishes they know - only about half of them. She decides to be adventurous, ordering at least one thing no one recognizes for every meal she takes in the room.
There are little cards to fill out and a mail slot to put them in. It looks like a drop box, probably heading straight to the kitchen. She fills one out for breakfast and sends it down.
It's not often she misses TV, but being in something approximating a hotel room with an hour and a half before the welcome dinner and nothing to do is one of those times. The Lanteans are all milling around their end of the hallway, chatting and checking out each others' rooms, and she pulls Rodney away from the discussion he's having with Ronon about technical survival skills to go and wander the streets for a while.
Jennifer flops on the bed when they get back in. Rodney's gotten surprisingly fit over the last year. Ronon'd made some comment about him getting soft since they didn't have to run for their lives all the time any more (which was patently untrue, but trust Ronon to goad Rodney into action without analyzing first) and Rodney started a rigorous workout schedule. He lifted weights with John three times a week, and he wouldn't run - he still said it was only for emergencies - but he swam and rode the stationary bikes with Jennifer. It gave him the idea to include bikes in the jumpers for ease of transportation - and Lorne's team loved him for that.
"Only twenty minutes before the reception," Rodney says from where he's splashing water on his face. She should clean up before heading out, so no nap for her.
"Okay," she says, rolling off the bed and changing into her robe. They have a washbasin and pitcher in their room, but the full bathrooms are shared. There are four on this floor, and she's feeling the need for a shower. The water pressure is pretty good, and she's thankful for that - it's the only thing that could make the conference truly unbearable.
John is waiting for them when they step out of their room, wearing the same black uniform he wears every day. She had debated wearing something other than her uniform, but decided it was probably best to be recognizable as Lantean the first day. She can wear her civvies after she gets to know people. John knocks on Ronon's door and she knocks on Teyla and Kanaan's door, but neither one opens and she doesn't hear any movement in the rooms. She knocks again. "Teyla?" she calls through the door.
Teyla eventually comes to the door, the quilt from her bed wrapped around her. John and Rodney both look away. "Aren't you coming down to the reception?" Jennifer asks.
Teyla frowns at her and then Rodney, looking a little confused. "We had not planned on it," she says, and she sounds a little confused too. "We ordered dinner and were planning on..." She clears her throat. "Spending the evening in our room."
"Oh," Jennifer says. She wonders if she missed something about the reception, maybe it's not for presenters, but they're running late and she doesn't have time to get her schedule and re-translate everything. "Ronon too?"
"He did say they were planning to stay in," Teyla answers. She looks at Rodney and says with a deliberate tone of voice, "You can request to be served from the banquet menu in your room, if you like."
Rodney still isn't looking at her, and he doesn't seem to catch her tone of voice. "No, no, that's all right," Rodney says. "I like to socialize with my peers before getting into the lectures. It's good to know people's names when you're castigating them."
Teyla looks shocked for a moment, but she recovers quickly. "Very well," she says. "Enjoy yourselves."
The cocktail reception is lovely. Jennifer has always enjoyed chatting with people, and there are medical people from other worlds threaded throughout the crowd. She wanders among them, standing at the edges of small groups if she hears something interesting. John took over Rodney-sitting, staying at his elbow and interrupting him with charming smoothness when he gets out of hand. She has to admit, John has a deft touch with Rodney offworld, and she tries not to be jealous. The only truly foolproof tactic she has for redirecting Rodney is through suggestiveness, and it grates sometimes.
She gets into a conversation with several doctors about anti-inflammatory medications, and as they call the guests to the open-air banquet table, one of them offers her hands to Jennifer, palms up. She doesn't know that greeting, so she puts her hands out palms up too. The woman smiles brightly at her. "Dr. Martherie Angoia," she says, putting her wrists into Jennifer's hands and clasping briefly. "I am pleased to meet you."
It's the first time Jennifer has ever heard someone in Pegasus use the title doctor, so she can't help grinning. "Dr. Jennifer Keller," she says in return. "Me too."
As the group files out the back doors and into a fenced in courtyard with several groups of large tables, seating anywhere from four to forty, Rodney and John meet up with her. "Dr. Angoia," Jennifer says, turning to introduce them, "This is Dr. Rodney McKay and Colonel John Sheppard."
"Pleasure," Dr. Angoia says, but something about it sounds off to Jennifer. "What is a colonel?" she whispers in Jennifer's ear, taking her arm as Jennifer follows John toward one of the larger tables.
John and Rodney go around the table, and Jennifer takes a seat next to Dr. Angoia. There are plates of meat and vegetables and full mugs at each place setting. "It's a military rank," she explains.
"I see," Dr. Angoia says. "And Dr. McKay is one of your staff?"
"Oh, no," Jennifer laughs. "He's a doctor of science. He specializes in physics."
When Rodney and John sit down across from them, Dr. Angoia's eyebrows go up in surprise. "You are dining together?"
Jennifer looks at the guys, and she can see the surprise in John's eyes. He's halfway through chugging the cup of whatever is in front of him and she has a hard time not laughing at his big, shocked eyes and the sudden surprised stillness, like a rabbit sensing a predator nearby. He swallows and sets his mug down slowly.
"Is there some reason we shouldn't be dining together?" John asks, and Dr. Angoia blushes, like it's an impolite question.
"Of course not," she answers, smiling brightly at them all. She looks at Jennifer last, and her smile turns sad. "It's just that the reception is usually for bringing people from different cultures together." At this, she turns to the woman on her right and greets her with the palms-up gesture.
Jennifer frowns. She likes Dr. Angoia, and it feels like she's been completely dismissed. She doesn't know quite what to say. Rodney looks puzzled, and John looks wary.
"Well that's a fine how-do-you-do," Rodney mutters, reaching for the cup in front of his plate.
"Oh, no, buddy," John says, and Jennifer looks down at his hand knocking Rodney's away. Rodney rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest, but John just shakes his head. "Sorry," he says, not looking particularly sorry. "Tastes like lemonade."
Jennifer takes a drink out of her own cup. It does taste like lemonade, the not-too-sweet homemade kind. She takes a long swallow. Rodney grabs the arm of one of the serving people that wander by and asks for water. The woman's eyebrows raise, and she says, "You do not want to partake?"
"Of something that could kill me?" Rodney says. "No, not really."
Her eyes go very round at that, and she nods. "I will be back with water."
John's already knocked back his cup and started in on Rodney's, grinning. Rodney looks pissy, so Jennifer sets her mug down to concentrate on the meat and vegetables in front of her. "Lamb?" she asks. She's a novice at this game; she goes offworld often enough, but mostly on humanitarian missions. They don't often have the desire to throw feasts, even if they have the resources.
"Venison," Rodney comes back, and John shakes his head.
"No, buffalo, I think. And these are going to be sweet," he says, poking at the small, purplish root vegetables, "sort of like little yams."
"Oh, I was hoping for real potatoes," Jennifer says, looking down at her plate.
"Sheppard's bullshitting, he doesn't know," Rodney says, looking up as the woman he'd stopped earlier brings him his water. "Thank you," he says, and turns back to his food. He stabs one of the yam-potato veggies with his fork and says, "Too soft, anyway. I bet they're like eggplant."
They stop talking as their host stands at the end of the table. "To new friendships, and new discoveries," he says, and raises his mug. Jennifer raises her cup, too, clunking it against Rodney's and John's when they raise theirs. He sits down immediately, and John smirks. "I like this guy. Short and sweet."
"Dig in," Rodney says, cutting into his meat with relish. He tastes the first bite and makes a face. "I was right," Rodney says morosely. "Tastes like venison."
Jennifer takes a bite, but she doesn't get venison. It's even more gamey than venison.
"Oh, ugh," John says, reaching for his mug, finding it empty, and taking Rodney's. "That's not venison, that's boar."
"Boar?" Jennifer asks, taking another bite. It's a little tough and the more she eats, the gamier it gets. She eats one of the little purple things to clear the taste. "When have you eaten boar?"
"When I was a kid, I ordered anything on the menu that I hadn't tried," John says. "Usually because it was the most expensive thing, and my father seemed to think that meant I had good taste." John laughs dryly. "I was too young to realize an extra twenty or thirty bucks on the bill wasn't going to piss my dad off."
Rodney opens his mouth to tell an undoubtedly embarrassing story, but before he can go off about his adventures of eating strange food, Jennifer changes the subject. "The potatoes actually taste like potatoes, though," she says, popping another into her mouth.
"Good for you, doc," John says. "That brings your total up to, what? One?"
"You're hilarious," Jennifer says. "Some of us don't get wined and dined every time we go offworld."
John smirks again. She rolls her eyes at him.
He looks strangely happy; she's used to the little sarcastic smirk, but this is something different. This is an almost-smile. Rodney looks like Rodney always does, doing everything at a hundred and ten miles per hour. At the moment, 'everything' includes eating, talking, and waving his fork around to make his point. She can't really follow what he's talking about, something about lasers, shields, and emitters. John seems to understand, though, so she doesn't feel bad for only half-listening.
"Jennifer?" Rodney asks, snapping his fingers in front of her face. She starts and looks up at him guiltily. "You spaced out there," Rodney says, and John makes a crack about a captive audience.
Jennifer isn't normally one to space out and as she looks down the table at people talking and smiling and feeding each other, she notices time seems to be moving sort of funny, like it's in slow motion. "Oh shit," she says, and looking first at Rodney and then John. John's eyes are dilated, blown wide, only the slightest hint of greeny-brown around the outside. She pulls out her notebook and pen and starts making a list.
Time perception altered
John is smiling now, not just the happy smirk, but a full-on grin. It's something she's never seen before, but apparently Rodney takes it for John having a very good time.
Looking at her hands, she notices her skin looks pink. When she looks up from her notes to see if John is flushed, the shift of her shirt over her skin makes her shiver.
Increased skin sensitivity
"Are you cold?" Rodney asks, unzipping his jacket. "You can have my..." He looks down at her list and back up at her, mouth open in disbelief. He presses his fingers to his cheek. "I don't feel oversensitive. Are my eyes dilated?"
Rodney's eyes aren't dilated, and he isn't flushed, and Jennifer answers, "No." She picks up her glass and peers into it, trying to see what drugs are at work in there. The slip of her sleeve over the fine hairs on her arm is almost unbearable in its intensity. John takes that moment to run a hand over his stubble. His eyes flutter closed and he makes a choked-off sound, and Jennifer has a moment of horror when she realizes she's wet - an instantaneous reaction to watching John run a hand over his face.
"Are you serious?" Rodney says, looking between her and John. "They drugged us? With aphrodisiacs?"
"Not us, buddy," John says, and the lack of worry in his voice makes her worry. "Jennifer and me." She looks at the two empty cups in front of John's plate and frowns.
"It's in the lemonade," Jennifer says, "and John's had two whole glasses." Rodney looks both ways down the table, and Jennifer's eyes follow his. People are getting friendlier, sitting with the heads together, touching each other casually.
"Damn it," John says, but he's still smiling.
"I'm getting you out of here," Rodney says, getting up awkwardly from the long bench. Jennifer extracts herself with more grace, and when John doesn't stand up, Rodney says, "You too, Colonel. Time to sleep this off."
John frowns, exaggerated, like a kid getting ready to have a tantrum. "No," he says, pouting stubbornly, "you're going to need some time to..." He looks at Jennifer, like that might give him the words he never seems to have when they talk about sex during his post-mission physicals. "...take care of Jennifer."
"We are not going to have sex while she is drugged!" Rodney snaps, and Jennifer feels a sudden zing of excitement at his tone. "And you're not going to either, so get up."
Dr. Angoia turns back to them and touches Jennifer's arm. Jennifer bites back a moan at the light pressure of her fingertips. "I wouldn't leave it for too long," she says. Jennifer wants to ask more, but Rodney's pulling her away from the table, pushing John in front of him. When she looks back over her shoulder, she sees small groups of people kissing and groping each other, and she feels another rush of excitement.
They're all quiet on the short trip to their rooms. John is still pouting, arms crossed, stomping along next to Rodney. Rodney's angry - really angry, the kind of angry that gets turned inward and lights a fire in his eyes. Jennifer is still trying to figure out what the drug did to her; she can't tell if her judgment is impaired or if the impact is mostly physical. It's hard to concentrate when she can feel every wrinkle of her pants against her skin, can feel the seam in the crotch snug up against her.
She's tempted to bend her knees more as she walks, see what kind of shift that would make in her pants, but she's not quite that far gone yet. By the time they're in the elevator, John's lost some of the pout and is wearing extreme concentration face. Judging by the strength of her reactions, he's probably uncomfortably hard from the pressure of his pants. The thought of John's cock straining against his pants hits her like a lightning bolt, a tingling sensation along her arms, and Jennifer suddenly realizes how problematic this is going to be.
"Maybe we should let John hook up with someone back at the feast," Jennifer says. John nods, raising his eyebrows and pointing at Jennifer.
"No," Rodney says. "I'm the only person who's drug-free, therefore I get to make the decisions. We're all going to climb into bed and sleep this off." Before John can say anything, Rodney adds, "And you'll be on our couch, where I can keep an eye on you."
John had been reaching for the doorknob, and he stands stock still in front of his own door.
"Rodney," Jennifer says, "I don't think you understand. We won't be able to sleep like this."
"Why not?" Rodney asks, grabbing John's arm and yanking him into their room.
"Because we're too horny," John says, going a few steps into the room and standing there stubbornly, hands on his hips.
"Then we'll do something to distract you," Rodney says firmly.
"Unless it's fucking," John says, "I don't think it's going to work."
Normally Jennifer would rather not talk about sex so baldly with someone other than Rodney, but at the moment she fervently agrees with John, so she just nods. Rodney closes the door behind them, and John crosses his arms with a meticulous slowness. Jennifer can see his erection, a clearly outlined bulge in the front of his BDUs, and she swallows hard.
"There's got to be some other way," Rodney insists. "Math. Talk me through Laplace's equation for spherical coordinates." John rolls his eyes but starts talking. Jennifer vaguely remembers the proof from her differential equations class as an undergrad, but it's been years and she hasn't really needed the information in her medical career. John's voice gets lower the more he talks. His eyes go half closed and Jennifer sucks in a breath at the sound of his voice, gravelly and sensual, like he's talking dirty to them, not reciting math.
She can feel Rodney stiffen beside her; he's always had a thing for intelligence. She may be drugged, but she doesn't think anyone could resist John Sheppard, arms crossed over his chest and reciting math in a voice that's clearly designed to get someone in bed as fast as possible. Even his nasal drawl is subdued.
"How's that working for you?" John asks after a moment. Rodney just blinks, and Jennifer doesn't need to look to know he's hard. She can read it in the uncomfortable set of his posture.
"Fine, chess," Rodney says. "E4."
John snorts in frustration. "No," he says, sitting down on the loveseat next to their bed. "I will go crazy if I have to try to play chess in my head while my clothes feel like their some kind of torture device. Jennifer," he says, looking right at her. She stops swaying, which she'd been doing to try and get her shirt to skim her nipples in just the right way.
"Do you think this will wear off after an orgasm?" He's looking at her with surprising concentration.
She shakes her head. "There's no way to know."
"Then we should head back to Atlantis," Rodney says. "If it's impossible for you to sleep this off, then we should go back and get you sedated until it wears off."
"Normally I would agree with you," Jennifer says, "but based on Dr. Angoia's comment, I have a feeling something bad will happen if we don't do what the drug wants."
"So what," Rodney says, "It's have sex or risk brain damage?"
"Maybe," Jennifer says, sheepishly. She tries to concentrate on the compounds she's seen like this before. Lorne's team came back with a sample of something they'd been drugged with on Denbris. He said that while he'd gone off and taken care of things right away (not realizing he'd been drugged) and seemed fine, Santos had resisted. When Lorne tracked her down the next morning, she climbed him like a tree and it had taken two hours and eleven orgasms to calm her down. "Maybe it takes endorphins to counteract the drug, and the sooner you produce the endorphins, the sooner it wears off."
Rodney looks anguished. "I'd rather take you to Atlantis than do something you'd regret. I don't want to have sex with you while you're drugged." He waves a hand at John. "And there's Sheppard to consider." John looks away, one thumb running over his bicep, the cotton of his shirt smoothing and bunching rhythmically. Jennifer can only imagine the sensation is incredible, enough to distract him from Jennifer and Rodney's conversation, if that's what he wants.
"I suppose," Rodney chokes out, "the two of you could have sex and it would wear off."
Jennifer shakes her head. She can't tell Rodney about John's preferences, though, so she settles on a vague, "I don't think I'm his type."
"You're both horny as teenagers in the back seat of a car after the prom," Rodney says. "I'm sure you can make it work. I'll just..." He looks at the door. "I'll wait outside."
"No," John says. "I'm not going to have sex with your girlfriend, Rodney." He smiles falsely at Jennifer. "And not because you're not my type, or gorgeous, or sexy."
"Okay," Jennifer says, shrugging. She's swaying again, wondering if she can get her hands behind her back without the guys noticing so she can take her bra off. She wants to be done talking already.
"Why don't you guys take care of things," John says, "and I'll handle myself. I can just go back to my room, and do it there."
Jennifer desperately wishes John liked women and Rodney liked men; this would probably be easier for all of them if they could just have a threesome and get it over with. "No," Rodney says. "I'm not letting you out of my sight." He sighs, taking a deep breath and blowing it out slowly. "Could you," he waves a hand at the loveseat, "...while we have sex on the bed?"
John sighs, blowing the breath out slowly. "Doesn't hurt to try. I have earplugs if it makes you feel better."
"You have earplugs?" Rodney asks, bewildered.
"Teyla snores," John says, shrugging. "You haven't noticed?"
Rodney blinks. Jennifer feels a laugh bubbling out of her. The situation has gotten surreal.
"I don't care if you listen," Jennifer says to get them back on track. "Unless it will be distracting for you."
Rodney still looks uncomfortable, but Jennifer's past the point of caring. She can't believe John is still able to think about something other than sex, considering how much lemonade he had. "Okay, it's decided," Jennifer says, pulling her shirt off. The cool air on her skin makes her shiver, and she tips her head back and laughs. She hasn't been this turned on since she was in college. She glances at John and he nods at her, a token of permission, she supposes, and he sits down on the loveseat, slouching ridiculously. He rubs a hand over his stomach, watching.
Rodney squawks when she tries to pull his shirt up, pushing it back down. "Come on," Jennifer says, unbuttoning her BDUs and letting them fall to the floor.
"Can we turn the lights off?" Rodney asks, and Jennifer knows that's because of John; Rodney prefers the lights on usually. "It'd be less awkward, right?"
The lights are on a dimmer, a steampunk-looking contraption with a big wheel attached directly to the lamp next to the couch. John leans over to lower the lights, and Jennifer can hear a hiss come out of him as his forearm brushes the arm of the loveseat. "Better?" he asks, when it's down to small pool of golden light concentrated over the end table. John's left side is visible as a shadow just out of the direct light.
Rodney puts a hand on her shoulder, finally, and her eyes slide shut. His hand is warm and his grip is strong, and she really needs to get things moving already. "Better," she says, finding Rodney's chin with her fingers and standing on tiptoe to press a kiss to his lips.
He puts his hands on her waist and it feels like she might explode out of her skin. They have to get naked, now and she's getting to the point of cutting Rodney out of his clothes with her trauma shears. "If you don't get naked right this second," she says, unhooking her bra and letting it fall to the floor. "I'm going to go rub off against the sheets by myself."
There's a soft snicker from the loveseat, and Rodney looks miserable in the low light. She kisses him again, whispering, when she's close, "It'll be okay, Rodney."
He clearly doesn't believe her; he looks even more unhappy at her proclamation. "You don't know that. You're not thinking clearly. And I don't often have girlfriends and best friends," he says, waving his hands wildly, "and if I lose both of you because I was too weak-willed to refuse, my life is going to suck."
Jennifer doesn't know what to say to that; she doesn't feel drunk or high, just really, really horny. She can name all her symptoms, think back to the seventeen cases of drugged sex in her files and compare the symptoms to those. If her judgment is impaired, then it's only in relation to sex, and since she's on the pill and they both get checked for a full battery of STDs every month, it doesn't really matter. "Hey," she says, kissing him quickly on the side of the mouth. "I'm pretty sure my judgment isn't impaired. And I'll bet that John has been through more painful and awkward things than listening to his best friend have sex."
Another soft snicker from the loveseat. "It's fine," John says. "But if you guys don't start making some noise, I'm going to, and that'll be way more awkward."
Rodney's face goes blank in the dim light, like he's wondering if John is going to start making armpit farting noises.
"Come on," Jennifer says, putting her hand on Rodney's waistband. "Let's make some noise."
"I hate myself for being so easy," Rodney says, putting his hands back on Jennifer's waist, sliding them up her sides and cupping her breasts. The sensation is burning, a friction trail that stays hot in Rodney's wake, and when he finally passes his thumbs over her nipples, she closes her eyes and hums in pleasure. He leans down to kiss her neck, just under her ear where she likes it best, and the scrape of his six o'clock shadow heats up the skin there, too. She's already wet, she just wants to start riding Rodney into her first orgasm; when she's like this she can come twice before Rodney does, easy. Three times, if he goes down on her in between.
"Naked," she whispers, dipping her hand inside his BDUs to grip his cock awkwardly. "I want to ride you."
Rodney stutters out his yes, gently pulling her hand out of his pants before stripping faster than she's ever seen him. "On the bed," she says, and there's a strangled sound from the loveseat. She peers over at John in the gloom, but she can't really see him, much less if he's interested in what's going on, or masturbating. It hadn't occurred to her that she should put on a show; she didn't mind him watching, but she wasn't doing this for him. She wishes again that he liked women even a little; a threesome would have been the easiest way to solve this problem, and it would've been hot to see him suck Rodney's cock.
Rodney lies on his back, and she climbs on, knee-walking her way up his thighs, until his cock is under her. She seats herself on his pelvis, her wetness making her slide along his cock a little. It brings her to the edge almost immediately. "No, wait," Rodney says, grabbing her thighs and pulling on them. "Come up here."
They've never done this; she isn't sure her legs won't give out and she'll smother Rodney, but she can't resist. Having his tongue in her will probably make her come and she's ready for her first orgasm already. She knees up the rest of his body, letting him shift his arms to inside her legs, and moving up to position herself over Rodney's face. He tilts his chin up, and it grazes her, pressure right on her opening, and she comes hard, a surprising jolt of an orgasm, a few clenches that make her gasp. It's over before she knows it, but then Rodney's tongue is inside her, licking her open and skating up to stroke her clit over and over and she's already building toward her second one. With his arms trapped inside her legs, he can't reach her breasts, so she rubs them herself - one hand on the wall for support, the other moving from one nipple to the other erratically.
"Fuck, come on," she whines, spreading her knees and lowering herself to try to get more pressure. Rodney takes the hint and in three more strokes of his tongue, she comes again, gasping and putting her hands and forehead on the wall for support. It's longer this time, and Rodney knows how to draw it out, flicking her clit with his tongue just as the pulses slow down. Eventually they stop and she's too sensitive for direct pressure on her clit, so she says no firmly and pushes herself away from the wall. There's a soft "fuck" from John's side of the room, and she briefly wonders if he's okay.
She's distracted by getting Rodney's cock under her again, sliding along its length, slicking it up. As soon as Rodney's hands are free, they're on her breasts, teasing her nipples just the way she likes it, and as a reward, she kneels up and takes his cock, lining it up and lowering herself onto it in one smooth motion. "God," Rodney says, his hands stilling for a moment. "I wish I could see you better," he says, and his hands leave her breasts to skim her ribs and waist, over her hips and along her thighs. She lifts herself up a little, leaning forward before Rodney tries to get at her clit again. She's going to come just fine from his cock inside her, and she doesn't want it to happen too fast.
She starts lifting and lowering herself slowly, letting her thighs do most of the work. Rodney's hands travel back up her thighs to rest at her waist, taking a little of her weight as she rides him. The angle is just right, and she sets up a brutal rhythm, clenching around Rodney as she comes up, making him beg; she's not sure what he's begging for, but he's gritting out "Please" like it will save him from drowning.
It doesn't last long, because when he needs to hold on, he starts reciting the equations he's working on in his spare time, gasped out bits of physics that probably wouldn't make sense to her even if they weren't doing something else. Here, though... here she knows he's waiting her out, trying to make sure she comes first. She's always appreciated that about him, and she stops clenching, because she's going to be here a while yet.
"Oh, thank god," Rodney says, and she laughs. "My turn," Rodney says, grabbing her hips firmly and holding her still while he thrusts up into her. He changes the angle somehow, pushing her hips back and tilting his up. It hits just the right spot, and she's spiraling up to an orgasm in a hurry, the sensation building and building until it feels like her whole body is vibrating.
He slows his thrusts at the end, sweet, torturous pressure in just the right places, and she comes, gasping out Rodney's name and going limp as the aftershocks go through her. Rodney lowers her down to rest on his chest, and it seems like the third time's the charm. She's well and truly sated, and she thinks she might be able to sleep now. "Come on," she says, clenching around Rodney. "Let's take care of you."
"No," Rodney says, lifting her off him and settling her next to him on the bed - something he's only been able to do since he started lifting weights. Normally she doesn't complain when Rodney decides to be noble, but the self-sacrificing is getting to be a bit much.
"You're going to have the world's biggest case of blue balls," she says, trying for light. "Come on, it won't take much, I bet."
"No," Rodney says, and there's a plaintive sound from the loveseat. "John?" Rodney asks. "Are you okay?"
There's another soft whine, and Jennifer doesn't really have any idea what to make of that, but Rodney's out of bed like a shot. "John?" he asks, bringing the light up enough that it shows John's body. He looks thoroughly wrecked, his shirt rucked up under his armpits, his fly open and his hand on his cock. He looks anguished, and when he opens his eyes, he looks at her, not Rodney. "I..."
She climbs off the bed too, her nudity not even an issue; maybe the drug is still in her system. "What do you need, John?"
He looks at her with pleading eyes.
"Tell me what to do."
She blinks. To himself? Does he need her to direct him to masturbate? Or is he asking to be told to do something to them? Or just Rodney, maybe? Understanding comes in a lightning bolt; he wants someone to order him around. She'd been bossy with Rodney and John had responded to her orders. She wasn't normally that pushy, but she knew what she wanted, and she could be pretty direct when that's the case.
Of course, there's the issue of John's preference for men, and the even thornier issue of him potentially being in love with Rodney. She debates it with herself for all of three seconds, and then shoots a look at Rodney. "Suck Rodney's cock."
Rodney backs away from the couch, already shaking his head. Jennifer puts a hand on his arm to still him. John's eyes close and he tips his head back, resting it on the back of the loveseat. He takes two deep breaths before he looks back at the pair of them. "Only if it's okay with Rodney."
"Please," Jennifer says, before Rodney can automatically say no. "Please," she says, "I want to watch."
"But," Rodney says, looking uncomfortable. "John?"
"No buts," Jennifer says, putting on her best commanding voice. "John, on your knees."
John's eyes widen, and he lurches forward, off the couch and on his knees in front of Rodney. Rodney inhales quickly, a little freaked out, she can tell.
Rodney makes a complicated face. He looks surprised and turned on and maybe a little hurt. When he looks down at John on his knees, though, an expression of desperate lust comes over his features. A knife of fear goes through her; what if Rodney had been in love with John, too? She hadn't thought about that before. She's always assumed if they had both been interested, they would have found a way to work things out.
"It's okay," Jennifer says, more to herself than to the guys. The vague fear of what happens after all this doesn't stand half a chance against John on his knees and that kind of longing in Rodney's eyes. She wants to give them this; and it's not like she won't be getting something out of it herself. "Okay?" she asks, willing Rodney to look back at her. He does and he's still undecided, but she's made up her mind. "It's okay," she says again, firmly. Rodney closes his eyes and his faces pinches up before he finally nods.
John whines, glancing from Rodney's cock to Jennifer, like he's waiting for permission.
"Wait," she says, and John looks painfully disappointed. "Rodney, come here." She turns him so his right side is to the loveseat, and she snaps her fingers at John, indicating he should move to kneel in front of Rodney again. His eyes go dark and he moves, staring at Rodney's cock like it's going to be his reward for doing as he's told.
She sits herself down on the loveseat, one leg up so she's spread open. Both of the guys turn to look at her, Rodney gaping and John smirking. Jennifer nods, satisfied with her arrangement. "Lick," she says, and John does - one lick up Rodney's cock that makes Rodney close his eyes and frown in concentration.
"Tastes like you," John says, licking again.
Jennifer's horrified - she'd actually forgotten that she'd fucked herself on Rodney's cock not three minutes ago. "Sorry," she murmurs.
"Don't be," John says.
Jennifer isn't sure how to take that; maybe John wouldn't mind being with a woman after all. Her mind may not know how to take it, but her body seems to get it just fine. She presses two fingers over her clit, dipping down into her pussy for some wet. "He won't last long," she says. "He was on the edge, and he really likes blowjobs."
John looks at her, raising an eyebrow. "I can manage."
Jennifer laughs. "Show me what you've got, John Sheppard."
When John finally puts his mouth on the head of Rodney's cock, she can feel another orgasm building. It's a long way off, but the excitement is there, building in tiny steps every time she watches the slow slide of John's mouth down Rodney's cock. Rodney's staring at the ceiling, his lips moving, but no sound coming out. She knows he's reciting physics; she knows if he looks down at John, he'll come.
John, on the other hand, looks like he might come from sucking Rodney - he's got the heel of his hand resting against the base of his cock, and Jennifer suddenly wonders if the drug will help with recovery time. It won't help Rodney, but if she can get John to come first, maybe there's a way to make the three of them work.
"Rodney," Jennifer says, and when Rodney jerks his head to look at her, gaping, eyes darting to the two fingers in her pussy, she can't help raising an eyebrow. "Grab John's hair," she says.
John moans around Rodney's cock, and Rodney's eyes snap right back up to the ceiling. He reaches out, though, threading the fingers of one hand into John's hair and tugging a little. John moans some more, and she can see him squeeze the base of his cock.
She's a fair way off from her next orgasm, but thinking about someone's cock in her - John's, maybe, or Rodney's again, she's not sure she cares who - makes her breath catch in her chest. "John," she asks, "Can you come on command?"
Rodney doesn't seem to hear her; he's concentrating on the ceiling like there's no tomorrow, and she's okay with that for the moment. John makes a garbled sound around Rodney's cock that sounds like it might be 'uh-huh' but isn't clear enough for her to be sure. "I need a real answer, John."
He pulls his mouth off Rodney and says, "If I'm close, maybe."
She thinks he's probably close and decides to help him out. He goes back to sucking Rodney's cock - and he is really good at it, taking more of Rodney's cock than she could ever get in her mouth. She gets up off the couch and circles around behind him, crouching with her legs outside his. He doesn't say anything, but she can feel he's wary from the tension in his posture. She pulls on his sleeve, getting him to let go of his cock. She squeezes his wrist, rewarding his obedience. "That's it, John," she says, wrapping her hand around his cock, her small hands probably not even close to what he's used to, but he responds to her just the same. "Come for me," she whispers in his ear. "Come with Rodney's cock in your mouth."
John makes a sound, a long, moaning sound, and he comes, all over her hand and his BDUs.
Rodney pulls his hips back, sighing out a breath as his cock slips out of John's slack mouth. "Thank god," he says, his cock bobbing in front of him, still hard and an angry reddish-purple. "I'm going to go wash -"
"You're not going anywhere," Jennifer says, standing up quickly and putting her hands on her hips. Rodney freezes. "I'm up for another round, and if the drug is working the way I think it is, John will be too, very soon."
"What?" Rodney says. "You said the endorphins would -"
"I said I thought maybe endorphins would short circuit the drug. Considering I'm on working on orgasm number four and I only had half a glass of the lemonade," Jennifer says, "I'm betting John's going to need at least one more."
John, still trying to clean up the mess in his pants, looks up at her. She can't read him. Usually he's surprisingly open - she can see through whatever he's projecting pretty easily. Maybe he's just uncertain of what to do; maybe he doesn't actually want any more. She's not sure about John's motives, but she is pretty sure that she knows what she wants, and she's willing to push his buttons to get it.
"Get up," she says, backing off from John so he has room to move. He gets up, his eyes dark and focused on her. "Take off your clothes."
John raises an eyebrow at her, but does as he's told. She wants to climb on top of him, fuck herself on him; she's hoping that she can do that and Rodney can fuck him too. She's never had a threesome before, so she's going on instinct.
"Rodney, get the lube out of my duffel bag." She doesn't normally need lube, but she'd been expecting lots of sex over the weekend and she knew to come prepared. She's glad now that she did.
John is naked, standing in the middle of the room, seemingly unconcerned. She looks him up and down. She's seen him naked more times than she can count, but usually when she's stuffing his intestines back into him or giving him a prostate exam. This is different, and she takes the time to look him over, head to toe. She always forgets how big his biceps are for someone that's so lean-looking with clothes on.
He's looking her over too, she realizes when she meets his eyes. He quirks his mouth up in a half-smile and turns to look at Rodney. She looks that way too. Rodney's standing there, watching them size each other up, lube in hand, cock still painfully hard. "Come here," she says, and he does, offering her the tube of KY jelly. "Hang onto it for now," she says.
She kisses him to wipe the uncertainty off his face. When she turns back to John, he looks uncertain too. "Are you okay with being with both of us?" she asks, knowing the question is vague, but meaning it in all the possible interpretations.
John nods, once, slowly. She smiles. "Kissing?" she asks, watching his face carefully. He nods again. It's slow, considered. She smiles, taking Rodney's hand and pulling him closer, and steps on tiptoe to press an easy kiss on John's lips. He puts his hands on her hips, pulling her into him, easily getting her to open her mouth. She's breathing hard when she pulls away, and she realizes her assumption John was gay is just as wrong as Rodney's that he was straight.
"Kiss him," Jennifer says, looking at John. He doesn't do it right away, like has with every other instruction of hers. He looks Rodney in the eyes, and Rodney stares back. Rodney's lost some of his nerves, but he looks resigned more than turned-on, and she realizes she has to assuage his guilt or he will never enjoy himself - and that will mean awkwardness tomorrow, which she really doesn't want, since she thinks she and John might have an understanding.
"John," she says, and he looks down at her again. "You're staying the night in our bed."
"And you're not leaving tomorrow until we have a chance to talk. Sober."
John nods. She glances at Rodney again. He looks relieved.
"Okay, then. Kiss," she says, backing out from between them. John steps in, taking Rodney's face in his hands, and kisses him like he's in some old-fashioned romance movie. Rodney kisses him back, his hands flailing in midair like he doesn't know where to put them. Jennifer grabs the one nearest her and intertwines their fingers. The heel of his other hand comes to rest on John's waist, the tube of KY carefully kept away from John's skin. Rodney's erection has flagged, and sometimes Jennifer wishes she could slow down Rodney's mind just a little. He's probably already anticipating tomorrow morning, and regretting what he hasn't even done yet.
"Let's take this somewhere more comfortable," she says, giving John a shove with her free hand. "On the bed, boys."
Both of them look at her, John grinning and Rodney confused, but they follow her direction. When John puts a knee on the bed, she says, "On your back."
John nods, and she's wondering if he prefers to be non-verbal during sex. He's not a particularly loquacious guy in normal circumstances, and she thinks that might be more difficult to deal with than making the three of them fit together. "Is it okay for me to be on top?" she asks. John raises an eyebrow, but nods. Good. Rodney's face falls, and she shakes her head at him. "Is it okay for Rodney to fuck you?" she asks, and John flicks a look up at Rodney before he nods again.
"Is that okay with you?" she asks Rodney, hoping to hell it is, because the idea of it makes her shiver in anticipation.
"I didn't know," Rodney says, eyes squinched up in dismay. "I didn't know."
"It's okay," Jennifer says, pulling on his arm to get him moving. She settles him on the bed, on his side next to John, the way he is when he wants to be gentle with her.
"I'm going to prep John, if that's okay," she says, taking the KY out of Rodney's hands. "You guys do something fun up there."
John has been pretty passive so far. He follows her orders, but goes no further. Rodney's unraveling a little, though, and she needs John to step up; she just doesn't know how to tell him. She goes to the end of the bed, grabbing onto John's ankle and yanking. "Down here, princess," she says, and he scoots down the bed. She smiles, watching him scuttle gracelessly toward her; there's no way to make that look sexy. Rodney even laughs, a short huff before his face goes tense again. John's face is at Rodney's belly now, and John turns his head to the side, looking down at Rodney's cock.
"No," Rodney says, scooting down the bed, still curled up next to John. "I need a break."
John nods again, looking away. Jennifer's halfway to ordering them to make out when John turns back, takes Rodney's face in his hands, and brings him down for a kiss. She waits a minute, watching, surprised to find she's not jealous, only turned on. Maybe she's more of a voyeur than she thought.
John's feet and ass are at the end of the bed, looking almost like he's in stirrups. It's easy enough to see, and she knows well enough how to find his prostate, so it's a matter of getting him stretched enough to take Rodney. She looks up to watch the guys, and she's glad to see Rodney taking over, hovering over John and using his weight to press John into the mattress.
She takes the KY and warms it on her fingers, watching John and Rodney fight over their kisses, over who is going to be in control. When she puts her fingers on John, though, his body settles and Rodney takes over. She almost wishes she could see his face - she's sure it would be a triumphant grin, shining with every ounce of his overconfidence.
She traces her fingers from just behind John's balls to his anus, putting pressure on it. It opens to her finger easily, and she thinks he must be consciously relaxing. It's easy to find his prostate - easier than the exams, when he's clenched down tight and unhappy. His dick twitches as she passes his prostate again with more pressure, and she taps Rodney's calf to get his attention. "His cock could use a little love," she says, thinking Rodney could give John a hand. Rodney nods and shifts, standing next to the bed and hunching over to take John into his mouth.
"Fuck," John says, his hand immediately in Rodney's hair. Jennifer has to agree; she's finding she likes watching someone else giving the blowjobs. She doubles her efforts, rubbing John's prostate, pulling out and getting two fingers in him. He looks listless and beautiful, head lolling to the side and mouth open. He's still, not pushing up into Rodney's mouth or down onto her fingers, though she can feel him bearing down from time to time.
"Stop," John says after another minute. She stills her hand but Rodney continues his blowjob and John says it again. "Stop, stop!"
He pulls on Rodney's hair and Rodney pulls off to complain. "Hey!"
"I told you to stop," John says, putting his hands over his cock to keep Rodney from returning. "I'm ready."
Jennifer twists her fingers in him - three now - and his shoulders lift off the bed. "Stop, jesus!"
Jennifer nods, pulling her fingers out and wiping them on the bedspread. "My turn," she says, pulling John's legs down and crawling on top of him. His cock is spit-slick and slides into her easily. "Mmm," she says, reaching out for Rodney's hand. When she looks over at him, she can see the conflict written all over his face.
"It's okay," Jennifer says. "Come on, it's your turn."
She doesn't let go of Rodney's hand until he's behind her, positioning himself between John's legs. The bed isn't the best height, and they have to shuffle to make everything fit. Rodney's holding John's thighs and lifting him up so he can get his cock in, and Jennifer's leaning forward, her body draped over John's chest. His chest hair rubs her nipples, and she can feel it down to her bones.
Once they're all in position, Rodney starts to thrust, and Jennifer realizes she doesn't have to do anything. John is getting pushed into with every stroke, and the fit is exquisite; there's pressure everywhere, and the gentle rocking sensation has her on the long, slow build, the one that means she can stay here and just enjoy the ride.
She closes her eyes, letting the sensation build, listening to their combined breathing. She thinks John is likely to come first; his breath is stuttering and he's making a half-choked sound in the back of his throat with every thrust. Rodney's muttering physics, and she hasn't yet made him come when he's trying not to - she realizes they will have to do something or Rodney's going to outlast them both again.
She forces herself to sit up and lean back, resting her shoulders against Rodney's chest. She looks down at John, frowning in concentration, eyes closed. "Look at that, Rodney," she says, and there's a hitch in the rhythm as Rodney does what she says. "Look at him, isn't he gorgeous?"
Rodney's past speaking, he grunts out an affirmative. "He's yours, Rodney, you can make him come, you can -"
Rodney speeds up, the rhythm erratic for just a second before he settles into a faster pace. "Yes," Jennifer says, tilting her hips to get the pressure back where she wants it. "That's it, you give it to him, you make him come."
John's eyes slide open and he looks at her, holding her eyes for just a second before sliding up to meet Rodney's. "Come on, Rodney," she goads, "just a little more."
Rodney slows down, his thrusts powerful and deep the way he always gets right before he comes. She lets herself fall forward, sliding along John's cock and settling back to seat herself so she got the benefit of Rodney's last thrusts. The come like a chain reaction, Rodney and John and Jennifer, and she nearly cries with relief when Rodney pulls out and John scoots up the bed, pulling her along. Rodney goes to the washbasin, cleans himself off, then brings over two wet towels and gently cleans her and John as well.
"Come on," Jennifer says, as Rodney continues to putter around the room. "Stop thinking and just come to bed."
John is dead center in the bed and Jennifer's on his right, so the only place there's enough room for Rodney is on John's left side. He works the covers out from under them and climbs in, pulling up the sheet over all three of them.
"I love you," Rodney says.
Jennifer's not at all surprised when she hears John answer with her, "I love you, too."
She wakes up on her side, her head pillowed on John's shoulder. She knows it's John, because Rodney doesn't have a little curve that cradles her head like this. "Morning," John whispers, and she wonders how long he's been awake. It's just getting light outside, sunrise threatening in the grey-pink of the morning.
"Morning," she whispers back. "Sleep okay?" She feels pretty well-rested herself; she hadn't thought to ask how long days were on this planet, but clearly they're longer than ones she's used to.
"Mmm hmm," John hums. Rodney's head is on John's other shoulder, and he's drooled a little puddle on John's skin.
She feels good. There's no hangover, no shame, no guilt. Whatever the drug was, it doesn't seem to have had any lasting physical effects, and she's confident now that she was in control of herself last night; she chose this, and John did too. Rodney, she thinks, will be harder to convince.
"How long have you been in love with him?" she asks. If they're really going to do this, she has to know for sure.
John takes a breath, letting it out in a whoosh before he answers. "Probably since I met him," he says, sounding wistful. "But at least since our second year in Atlantis."
She tries not to wince. She wasn't assigned to Atlantis until the end of the second year. She couldn't even tolerate Rodney until the fourth year.
"I've only been in love with you for six months, though," John says.
It takes a second for that to register. She sits up, looking down at John with his arm around Rodney. "What?" she asks. "Me?"
"Yeah, you," John says, tugging on her arm. She gives in and curls up next to him again, putting her head back on his shoulder. Some conversations are easier when you're not looking at the people you're talking to.
"I don't know what to say," Jennifer says, settling in. "I wouldn't have guessed we were even really friends."
John pets her hair. "I'm pretty good at keeping my feelings to myself."
Jennifer laughs. "Not really. I've known you were in love with Rodney for a long time."
"Only because I gave up," John says, and presses a kiss into her hair. "I figured it didn't matter, since Rodney'd actually stumbled onto the right person, and somehow managed not to mess it up. Letting you know was a relief."
Jennifer nods, her cheek scraping against John's shoulder. "I didn't know how Rodney felt about you."
"Me neither," John answers.
"Me neither," Rodney croaks, startling them both. He yawns and pushes himself up to sitting, wiping the drool off John's shoulder. "I wish you'd let me know sooner." He looks down accusingly at John.
"It was too big a risk," John says, sounding completely reasonable. "I couldn't do it unless I was sure."
"You were sure last night?"
John shrugs, and Jennifer's head bobs with John's shoulders. "I knew Jennifer knew about me. I knew you wouldn't let me out of your sight. If I could have come from watching the two of you, I would have, and let it go at that."
"And we'd never have known," Rodney says. "You'd have gone to your grave with this."
"It's just one more thing," John says, and Jennifer's heart aches for him. "There's a lot I'm taking to the grave, Rodney."
"Not this," Rodney says.
"Not this," John agrees, pulling Rodney back down.
"And by this, you mean the ongoing relationship we've started here, right?" Jennifer asks. "Not just the amazing sex we had last night?"
"Amazing drugged sex," Rodney says. "I feel like we should lower our expectations for regular, non-hallucinogenic sex."
"Really?" Jennifer asks. "Because I think we should make a bucket list and go for everything on it. I want to get a strap-on and fuck John stupid."
John raises his eyebrows in surprise, but he doesn't object. "I want to tie Rodney up and have you tell me what to do to him," John says.
Rodney's mouth falls open and he sputters for a second. "I want someone to pinch me and tell me I'm not dreaming."
John takes Rodney's nipple between his fingers and twists. Rodney jerks with a startled, "Hey!"
"You're not dreaming," John says. "Now tell us what you want."
Rodney makes a face for a second before he says, "Can you do a sixty-nine with three people?"
"I'm sure we can figure it out," Jennifer says. "And we've got plenty of time for everything else."