John was breathless when he asked, "Lorne, how many was that?"

Lorne coughed, but his voice was husky when he replied, "Seventeen, sir."

The Atlantis team, as well as the Hanturan delegates, were all sitting in the conference room chairs, but none of them were relaxed - everyone was pretty much sitting at attention, their eyes locked on John and Rodney.

John had Rodney's face in his hands, and Rodney was leaning heavily into the touch, his eyes bright, lips red and swollen.

"How're you doing?" John asked.

"'M okay," Rodney said. "Feet hurt."

John got up from the table and walked Rodney back a couple of steps. Ronon pushed a chair into place, and Rodney sat heavily.

"Ready?" John said.

Rodney looked up at him, eyes still shining and patted his thigh. "Come 'ere."

John climbed up to straddle Rodney's lap, rolling his hips to get comfortable, and also to rub his ass against Rodney's hard on. Rodney snaked a hand up to capture the back of John's neck and pull him in close.

"When we're done here," he rasped into John's ear, making him shiver, "we're going back to my room and I'm going to fuck you."

John pulled back and smiled. "Okay," he said. "Ready for number eighteen?"

"Bring it," Rodney said with a grin, turning his face up to John's.