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Rodney fucked up. God, he fucked up so badly, and even he knew that it was bad enough that he didn't try to argue with anyone or get angry, he just nodded as they stepped through the 'gate and Elizabeth launched into him about endangering the mission and the critical importance of remaining covert offworld when they didn't have any intel on the natives. He stood there, his hands clasped behind his back, his head pounding, and took it.
He deserved far worse.
The truth was, Rodney couldn't figure out where his head had been at the last few weeks. They had spent five days earthside, traveling to Scotland to attend Carson's funeral, and the headaches had started then, that first day. And the total scatterbrained idiot thing too. He was pretty sure Heightmayer would call it a side effect of grief (if he'd actually gone to Heightmayer like Elizabeth had gently suggested when they came back from Earth), but he was fine. He was doing just fine.
Then, they'd gone to M74-XR5, which was, for all intents and purposes, one gigantic, dark forest. Rodney was getting some pretty high energy readings that had "ZPM" written all over them. The four of them were walking through the forest, trying to get an idea of where they were and what the deal was. And then? Rodney stubbed his toe on the root of a tree, yelled, "fuck!" and suddenly, there were a hundred of the planet's natives pointing weapons at them. John rolled his eyes, and Ronon looked like hewanted to throw his gun from stun to kill and take out Rodney, and Teyla looked - well, like she always did, but Rodney had known her long enough to know that the slight quirk of her eyebrow was screaming how annoyed she was.
Rodney had at least taken a moment to be grateful they hadn't been killed or maimed, although the prompt march back through the 'gate with promises to never return, all the while knowing, in his gut, that they had a ZPM, was almost as bad. Maybe worse.
After his very public, and very appropriate, dressing down, Rodney slinked off to his quarters, waving his hand in front of the sensor next to the door and dropping onto his bed before doing anything else.
He was a mess. And he'd almost gotten them all killed, which was worst than almost just getting himself killed.
He flopped down on his back, shutting his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest. Get a grip, McKay.
Then, there was the sound of the door sliding open, and Rodney sat straight up in the bed. And there were John and Ronon, stalking through the door. "Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me!"
"Sorry, McKay," Ronon muttered, leaning against the wall next to the door with his arms crossed, and John walked in, striding up to the bed and sitting down next to Rodney. "Hey, Rodney, how's it going?"
Rodney braced himself on his hands, turning slightly to face John. "How's it going? How's it going? Well, let's see. My best friend got killed by an exploding tumor, my head is killing me, I most likely lost Atlantis a very badly needed ZPM, and the two of you scared me half to death by breaking into my room and you're still here. How's that?" He sighed and closed his eyes again. He just wanted to be left alone, just for a little while, to get his bearings.
When he opened his eyes again, John was grinning, which was so annoying, and he reached out to rest his hand on Rodney's shoulder. "Relax, okay? Ronon and I were worried about you, so we thought we'd come by and see how you were. Didn't mean to scare you."
Rodney peered at Ronon, who was still against the wall. Ronon was smiling, that sly, small smile that he wore almost all the time now, and Rodney knew how long it took for Ronon to settle in enough to be amused. "Yeah, we were worried," Ronon said. Now, Rodney was skeptical, because this wasn't making any sense. They were angry with him on M74-XR5, he knew that, and now all of a sudden, they were concerned for his well-being? Sure.
Rodney took a deep breath. "Listen, I'm sure you mean well, it's just that I really wanted to be alone. I had an awful day and I have a headache and I just - please." And with that, he lay back down on the bed and willed them gone. With the power of his very large brain.
"We just want to help," John drawled, and a warm, firm hand came down on Rodney's knee, stroking, and Rodney had to stifle a grateful moan, because he couldn't remember the last time someone touched him, like this, for comfort, and it felt ridiculous good.
“Go away,” Rodney said, swatting away John’s hand. This was crazy, even if it felt good.
“Nope.” John's hand kept stroking, and it was moving further up Rodney's thigh, and this didn't make any sense at all, Ronon standing across the room, watching as John groped him for no apparent reason. "How exactly do you plan to help?" he said, trying to keep his voice steady.
"Shut up, McKay," Ronon growled, and Rodney did, because he wasn't stupid enough to protest this, not when he had John Sheppard laying down beside him in Rodney's bed, which was something Rodney only let himself think about late at night, in this very bed, when he was alone. John's hands were on his waist now, and Rodney was breathing hard and trying to make sense of anything that was happening.
John tugged Rodney's hips close, and Rodney felt John, hot and hard against his hip, and John's breath on his cheek. "Shut up," John breathed, and Rodney nodded, too surprised for words, as John leaned in and pressed his mouth to Rodney's. Whoa.
The whole world was tipping and Rodney was clutching John, and god, how hadn't he known that this was what he needed? He couldn't remember what was wrong before, but everything seemed so good right now, and sure, it was probably just going to be a pity fuck, but he wasn't below taking that at this point. John's arms were wrapped around Rodney's back, and he was making small, choked off sounds into Rodney's mouth and pushing his hips lazily against Rodney's. God. It was so good.
Then, Rodney felt hands tugging his legs toward the foot of the bed, large hands, and of course it was Ronon, which made even less sense than John making out with him on his bed, because Ronon, Rodney was pretty sure, didn't even like him most of the time. "Help me out," Ronon said softly and John eased up, just a bit, so Rodney could move closer to where Ronon was, kneeling at the foot of the bed at Rodney’s feet.
John's mouth was still on his, kissing him like he would die without it, dissolving Rodney's brain inside his skull with a swipe of his tongue, and Rodney was thinking that he could come, just like this, until he heard Ronon humming almost and working open Rodney's pants, and Rodney pushed away from John, panting harshly, because this? He had to see.
"I don't - what - Ronon!" Rodney groaned, trying to keep his eyes focused with John's mouth and tongue on his neck, letting one of his hands drift down to tangle in Ronon's surprisingly soft hair. "What the hell are you doing?"
Ronon grinned, cat-like, and Rodney felt the corners of his own mouth tugging up at the sight, because this was apparently a gap in the space-time continuum, and in this space, Ronon Dex was going to suck his dick. Ronon stroked Rodney's cock, slowly, too soft to do anything really. "I want to," Ronon said, sincerely, and Rodney nodded and held on, because this was good. And sure it didn’t make any sense, and in new galaxy, including Pegasus, should Ronon want to suck him off, but there was no way Rodney could stop him. Not now.
Ronon's hair felt so good under his hands, and his mouth was hot and wet and perfect, and Rodney felt like he was just hanging on, and that he might come apart if not for the weight of John, kissing him and holding him down, keeping him anchored there. How had they known that he needed this, that this was so good, so goddamn right. Embarrassingly enough, he was close, and this wasn't going to last much longer.
"Ronon, I -" he gasped, trying to get Ronon to back off, but Ronon stayed right with him, humming around his dick and sucking him as Rodney came, shooting over and over again into his perfect, hot mouth. "Oh god."
With a final lick, Ronon pulled off, and John was pushing at Rodney until he was spread out on his stomach, and he wasn't sure he wanted this, but John and Ronon were working together to pull off Rodney's pants and shirt, and he was naked and, amazingly, getting hard again. Ronon climbed up on the bed and arranged himself against the headboard. "It's okay, just relax," Ronon said softly, as he tugged on Rodney's arms and pinned him down, hard, with his hands on Rodney's wrists. Ronon’s long legs were bent at the knee, on either side of Rodney’s head.
God, he couldn't move, and John was whispering to him and running his hands down the crack of Rodney's ass, and it was clear they had planned this whole thing, and Rodney couldn't help but be grateful, sobbing as John worked two slick fingers into him and told him how hot he was, how beautiful, how good, and he just let himself go, gave into Ronon's strong, firm grip and the sweet slide of John's cock into his ass, over and over, until he couldn't remember anything anymore.
*****
Rodney was so warm, unbelievably so, and heavy, and it felt good. The blankets in Atlantis were never enough, and he always found himself a little cold in the mornings, but not today. He blinked open his eyes, and he could tell by the angle of the moons in the sky outside his window that only a couple of hours had passed.
John was lying face to face with Rodney, and he was typical military, stirring as soon as he sensed Rodney was awake. He opened his eyes, and Rodney watched as John started to smile, slowly. "Hey," John said softly, stretching out one hand to rest on Rodney's hip, right below where Ronon's hand was resting. Ronon was wrapped around him, his big body almost enveloping Rodney and making him feel safe, for the first time in a while.
"Hey yourself," Rodney whispered back. "So, uh, can I ask what the hell just happened?"
Ronon was pulling him closer, and Rodney let himself be pulled, feeling Ronon hard against his ass. That was...nice. Good.
"Well, it's clear you've been having a hard time, and Ronon and I talked about it after we got back from the mission, and thought it might be what you needed. Seems we were right." John was grinning, and Rodney wanted to protest, tell him that he didn't need their help.
"I didn't need your pity," Rodney said. "I'm okay." Well, he kind of did need their pity, but that was beside the point.
"No, you aren't. And it wasn't pity. Ronon doesn't give blowjobs out of pity, only to people he cares about." Huh. Okay.
"So, you and Ronon -"
"Yeah, me and Ronon. And you, apparently. Now quiet down, or you'll wake him up. I haven't seen him sleep this soundly in ages." With that, John closed his eyes again, and was snoring softly, instantly.
Rodney couldn't make the pieces of all of this come together, which could have something to do with it being the middle of the night, or the fact that he was in bed with two incredibly attractive men, but his head didn't hurt anymore. And yeah, Carson was still dead and he was still terrified, of everything, at least a little. But in that moment, with Ronon holding him tightly and John's hand hot on the bare skin at his waist, everything was okay. It was okay.