Some days, John is pretty sure he's losing his mind. Really, he's not exactly acting like Lt. Colonel Smooth these days. It's not exactly regulation to have some sort of reciprocal furious sex game going on with Rodney.

Fuck regulations.

He's never felt more alive in his life. He's on the edge of his metaphorical seat waiting to see what comes next, or thinking about what he'll do next. He told Rodney he'd come back, but he didn't get the chance. The gate room klaxon goes off, and this time it's Team Sheppard who needs to go out and save Team Lorne. John has to let out a breath at that one - it was starting to get embarrassing, always being the ones who needed saving.

So, upside: getting to be the cavalry for once; downside: having to gear up without enough time to clean up, to get the smell of Rodney's come off his neck. Tactical error, he thinks. He should have stuck his wet hand up the front of Rodney's shirt to get to skin, because Rodney's waiting there in the gate room with his tac vest over a fresh shirt. Fuck. He hates being outmaneuvered.

John's grin falters when Rodney gives him a sly smile and an amused narrow-eyed look As they go through the gate, Rodney wraps a hand around John's upper arm and squeezes, finding the bruise with perfect accuracy. John's glad that his moan gets swallowed up by the wormhole.

John stumbles a little on the other side, but snaps out of it, getting his P-90 up and ready. "About half a mile this way," Rodney says, his eyes on the screen of the Life Signs Detector. "There's a large group, then a group of four slightly away from them. I'd say that's our guys. Probably cooling their heels in a prison cell."

"Move out," John says. "I'm on point." He can't bear the thought of being on their six and having to stare at Rodney's ass for a half-mile hike. That sort of torture isn't exactly covered by the Geneva Convention.

Ronon scouts up ahead and confirms that there's a makeshift jail.

"Ronon, Teyla - keep an eye on the natives; McKay and I will do the daring rescue part. Ronon gives him a snort in reply, but he and Teyla move out.

"Daring rescue?" Rodney raises an eyebrow at him.

John smiles. "I've always wanted to say that."

The four life signs turn out to be three prisoners and a guard. It's an easy "daring rescue," and Ronon brings back Parrish, the botanist, who the natives decided was the leader because the rest of the team protected him. "King" Parrish has been living it up in the worship hall while the others sat around in the dirt. He's a nice guy, though; he doesn't even lord it over his "subjects," mostly because they're heavily armed.

They're halfway to the gate when an arrow goes right over Lorne's shoulder. Each team splits into pairs and moves into the treeline - a practiced maneuver that needs no signs or commands. Ronon and Teyla and Cadman and Truman settle closer to the trail, guns at the ready. John and Rodney fall back deeper into the cover, as do Lorne and Parrish on the other side.

John's covering the path to the gate. "Cadman," he says into his headset, "you and Truman get to the DHD and dial Atlantis. Get through and round up some help. Lorne, you and Parrish are next, then Ronon and Teyla. McKay and I will cover. If we can, we'll be right behind you. If not, we'll go to ground and wait for you and the reinforcements. Go!"

He's gratified to see his orders carried out quickly and efficiently. McKay moves up to his side, and they lay down cover fire for Cadman. Lorne is doing the sharp shooting, taking out anyone brave enough to step up and take a shot at them. He hears the gate engage and takes a quick look to see Cadman and Truman ducking through.

For once, Ronon's doing what he's told (or Teyla's making him), and John hears them go through.

"What?" Rodney says quietly, and John realizes that he's speaking under his breath, still giving instructions to Lorne that Lorne can't hear. "Wait for the cover, let me clear the first row out, go now Go!"

Lorne and Parrish break cover and John and Rodney are left alone to clear their own path. John sees one of the natives make a break for the gate. "Shut it down! Raise the shield! Shut it down!" he yells into his headset, and the wormhole closes before the man gets through. Unfortunately, his new vantage point gives him a view directly into the depression in the ground John and Rodney are using for cover.

There's a lot of yelling and pointing, and John shoots into the air a few times, hoping to give them an opportunity to retreat with out getting shot with a fucking arrow. There's running and more yelling and pretty soon it turns into a pretty usual mission for Team Sheppard - John and Rodney get caught and thrown into the same hut they rescued Lorne's team from earlier.

"Well, at least no one got an arrow in their ass," John says.

Rodney slumps in a corner of the cell. "I can't believe they chose Parrish as their king. The man's a botanist for Christ's sake."

"Well," John drawls, "maybe botany is close to godliness."

Rodney turns toward him, his face thunderous. "I think this will go quicker if you don't speak."

"What?" John says. "The rescue team will be here soon. They'll get us out and we'll be back on Atlantis in time for dinner."

"So what you're saying," Rodney says slowly, "is that there's not a lot of time."

"Right. The rescue team is probably no more than an hour behind us."

Rodney nods, and John finds himself being tackled to the hard-packed dirt of the floor, and finds Rodney straddling his stomach, knees pinning his hands close by his sides. He thinks about pulling some fancy maneuver with his feet to throw Rodney, but the truth is that he likes it.

Rodney's hands push his jacket off, dragging it down to where his arms are trapped. His tee shirt gets shoved up under his arms next, then Rodney knee-walks up his body, stopping with his knees on either side of John's head, his shins immobilizing John's upper body.

Rodney unbuttons and unzips his pants before grabbing John's face in one big hot hand. "I saved something for you." His voice is low and sharp, and John breathes out hard at the feel of short nails against his jaw, digging in.

"Yeah?" John says tauntingly.

"Oh, yeah." Rodney uses both hands to work his pants down, then pushes his boxers out of the way enough to get his cock out. He's hard as hell, and from this angle, he looks huge. John still can't help reaching out with his tongue, stretching up to get a taste.

He gets more than he bargained for when Rodney braces himself on his hand over John's head and uses his other hand to guide his cock into John's mouth.

John draws in a quick breath, and he's glad he did when Rodney doesn't pause or stop, he just pushes in, leaning forward to find the right angle to keep going and going. His cock is almost to John's throat, and there's no air; John can feel his eyes rolling back, can hear the desperate noises coming from his own mouth, stretched around Rodney.

Rodney pulls back just enough that John can breathe, a few harsh inhalations that hurt his throat and rush down into his oxygen-starved lungs.

"More?" Rodney asks. His hand is still around the base of his cock, and John can see how wet it is - wet from his own saliva.

"More," he groans, his whole body shaking. This time he doesn't bother to try and catalogue anything except the cock in his mouth. This time Rodney goes slower, in and out, he's not so rough. But John knows Rodney, he knows what's coming.

Rodney pulls back hard and John braces himself, but Rodney just gives him a low chuckle and slides back in, soft and smooth. It's the next stroke that goes deep. John makes a noise that could have been a scream, had it actually left his mouth. He didn't get a breath this time, and Rodney's pushed in as far as he can go, holding still with his cock filling John up. John's thrashing under him, and he feels like his vision's going black when Rodney pulls out.

All John can do is suck in air with great whooping breaths, eyes closed and his head thrown back. Rodney's fingers touch his throat, his thumb and forefinger digging in under the joints of John's jaw. Rodney's hand is on the outside, pressing against the place his cock was on the inside.

Rodney grips tighter, and John moans. "Once more?" Rodney asks. And John's nodding before he even sends the signal to do so to his brain.

This time, John knows to breathe in; he knows that Rodney won't be screwing around this time. He's right. Rodney braces himself and just slams himself into John's throat, holding there. John's swallowing convulsively - it's a reflex, nothing more, but he knows what Rodney's feeling, knows what this last one is for.

John's almost out of air when Rodney draws back just enough to push back in hard, then comes against the back of John's throat. Just as John's starting to see black dots, Rodney pulls out and moves off his body.

John rolls to his side and wraps his arms around his chest, one hand going up to curl around his neck as he sucks in air, his knees coming up to pull his body into a ball. The air hurts. His throat feels like sandpaper, the roof of his mouth is sore, his lips hurt from all the stretching, and the corners of his mouth feel like they're close to splitting.

Just as his breathing starts to ease, John jumps when one of Rodney's hands falls to his hip.

"Easy," Rodney says, then he braces John's leg to make room. He gets John where he wants him, then reaches down to slip his hand between John's legs.

John's surprised to feel that he's still rock-hard; any sort of coherent thought leaves him then - all he can feel is Rodney's hard hand rubbing him off through his uniform pants. It doesn't take long, John's too fucking keyed up to hold back. He comes hard in his pants, rough groans on his tongue.

John's not sure how long he lays there in the dirt; he only knows that Rodney's sitting beside him. As soon as he can control his limbs, he turns over onto his other side, facing Rodney's knee. Rodney's hand tangles into his hair and pulls gently upward. John doesn't quite get it until his head comes down to rest on Rodney's knee. John moves one shaking hand to the small of Rodney's back, and they stay there until they hear the sounds of the cavalry, coming to take them home.