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John’s pretty sure he’s headed in the right direction—the one that will lead them back to the flooded dart bay where they entered—but it doesn’t really matter. Any direction away from the corpse of the Wraith queen is a good direction. Besides, Rodney hasn’t corrected him yet, so he’s probably right.
“Slow down, Colonel,” Rodney says, somewhere behind him. Walking faster might force Rodney to actually catch up and it will definitely get John to their dive suits and safety faster. “Can you just—”
Or not.
Stopping short, John turns to cut Rodney off. “No reason to stick around,” he says, because there really really isn’t. They’ve almost blown up and he’s almost been fed on twice and he can still feel the echo of the Wraith’s mental fingers in his mind. There is no reason to stay whatsoever. “Wraith ships give me the creeps.”
Rodney glares at him, but follows when John starts walking again. “We just saved the day, in case you’ve forgotten already,” he says, keeping pace this time. “No more impending doom from self-destructing cruisers or from Wraith queens. Creepy, decaying ship aside, we have five minutes to take a break before we go out there and risk our lives again to get back to the drilling platform.”
“Or,” John says, not slowing at all, “we could take our break once we get back to the drilling platform.” Because the drilling platform is nice and safe and smells a little stale, but nothing like the scent of rot in the air here.
“Colonel, please,” Rodney says, his tone half-way reasonable this time, like maybe John’s the one who’s actually wrong here. Which he is not.
Sometimes Rodney just needs a little push, especially when things aren’t exactly dire—which, John concedes to himself, they’re not. They’re just highly uncomfortable and unnecessary. “We’ve done it once—what’s the big deal? Come on, Rodney.”
“Slow down,” Rodney complains.
John rolls his eyes and walks faster. They’re almost to the dart bay and John’s skin is prickling all over at the prospect of escape.
“Hey.” There’s a hand on his arm, tugging him to a halt. John glares down at Rodney’s hand, and then up at his face. His response dies on his tongue. Rodney’s looking at him funny, his expression open and searching and nothing like his annoyed tone.
“Colonel,” he says gently, stepping closer, his grip still tight on John’s arm. “Sheppard.”
A second before it happens, John realizes Rodney’s about to kiss him, which gives him no time at all to plan for it.
The kiss is soft, just as gentle as Rodney’s voice had been, and nothing at all like John has ever imagined it. Even though it can’t last more than a moment, it feels like forever, like the whole galaxy has slowed for this and still John can’t figure out what to do, his mind moving just as slowly, his muscles completely frozen.
Rodney doesn’t really pull away, just tips his head a bit and finds John’s eyes again. “I wouldn’t have let her feed on you,” he says quietly, but there’s steel there, a firmness to his words.
Distantly, John is aware that his heart is beating fast again, adrenaline kicking back up. He feels a little lightheaded now, but he’s still stuck in place. Rodney tried to kill a Wraith queen for him. Rodney had kissed him. He’s pretty sure Rodney would be willing to do both of those things again, repeatedly and as necessary, and John swallows down the butterflies that thought stirs in his stomach.
“Or not,” Rodney says, his gaze sliding away. He steps back, letting go of John’s arm to dig in the pockets of his vest. “Here. Eat this Powerbar, Colonel Cranky Pants. Low blood sugar is a bitch—mood swings, poor decision-making, hallucinations. You never know what will happen. You should probably just forget all about this.”
“Rodney,” John says, catching Rodney’s wrist instead of the proffered Powerbar. It stalls Rodney mid-thought, and John kisses him, quick and smiling.
Rodney’s surprise is clear, his mouth gone slack and his eyebrows up, but then he’s smiling, too. It’s not his smug, I-win smile, but something else, something maybe a bit awed and a whole lot excited and John’s heart might actually beat out of his chest at the sight.
“Let’s go home,” he says, pulling Rodney forward.
This time, Rodney goes with little complaint.