He took the kiss of seedcake back from his mouth.

“Do you think we’ve done this before?” he asks.

He was aware of the controversy surrounding the application of DADT policy to an international expedition—and an international expedition to another galaxy at that—but in the end, it didn’t matter. Everyone got the chip, or they didn’t go.

Teyla is the beautiful one, Ronon is the enigmatic one, and Rodney, of course, is the genius one. But John, John is the star.

“We can’t do this here! If we get caught, you’ll never work in this town again!”

They need to take seven and they might take yours.

“You’re stealing my cool!” John complained.

AU PWP. I need you with me on this, Rodney.

Someone’s watching them.

Sex in the control chair!

Deadly-calm, deadly-serious: “I’m a spy,” Rodney said.

But Rodney was gathering the tiny body into his arms. “Hey, now,” he said, voice low, a tone John had never heard him use before. He stroked the weary head. “Hey. Come on.”

“John is forty-six and he is not the one getting married.” omg kilt porn for yay

Heaven and Hell’s North American representatives have an Arrangement, too.

“They’re in the trees?” he asked.

Dog tag porn.

“You’re not the least bit disturbed by this?” John asked. Rodney shrugged. “Well, I’d have preferred a Coffee Bean, but…”

dis•so•nance n. 1. A harsh, disagreeable combination of sounds; discord. 2. Lack of agreement, consistency, or harmony; conflict. 3. Music. A combination of tones contextually considered to suggest unrelieved tension and require resolution.

“I didn’t, you know.”

“The second time…”