equilibrium

It annoys him at first, the way Sheppard can flip between the two sides. The guy who likes to fuck him and the colonel that smirks an awful lot. Outside, in the city where other people get to look at him too, Sheppard is laid back, existing in a bubble of nonchalance and easy smiles. He smiles at everyone with that same damn smile, that smirk that makes all metal melt quicker than mercury.

He and Sheppard bitch at each other, they trade barbs, they make jokes and sometimes they smile at the same things, sharing a scoff perhaps, because Sheppard will smile along with anyone. He's an easy smile - he'll do it with anyone.

It annoys Rodney a great deal at first, because with every new second they spend together he's begun thinking mine. It's irrational and stupid. But seriously, mine he thinks more than often.

On the other side of the briefing room, Sheppard will run his hands up down and his arms in an idle fashion, the black of his wristband dark against the light tan of his skin and Rodney can actually feel the hair as if it's under his own fingertips, soft to the touch. His face will warm and someone will say something, Sheppard will make a quip and it gives Rodney the opportunity to roll his eyes in annoyance because what he's really pissed off about is...what he's really pissed off about is...that he doesn't even know what it is he's pissed off about.

Maybe it's the way everyone seems so indulgent of Sheppard's dry humor and silly smiles. The way sometimes everyone seems to be eating out of his hand. The way everyone is just drawn to him and they shouldn't be because...mine.

And mine, he thinks when Sheppard and Teyla share sly smiles and Sheppard pretends that he's been letting Teyla beat him when they spar and that next time he won't go so easy on her. Mine, he thinks when she smacks his backside with one of her sticks with a reprimanding look before smiling and walking off down the corridor.

Mine, he thinks when he sees Sheppard and Ronon arriving together from a run, the way Ronon gloats and grins over his victory and the way Sheppard narrows his eyes and says he's not going to bother trying to outrun someone who's freakishly fast and obviously has way too much energy, probably because of a lack of sex.

Even when Sheppard and Elizabeth are standing in the control room, watching a team arrive back through the gate and Elizabeth lays a friendly hand on Sheppard's arm, the lightest of touches, Rodney's mind is a chatter of mine mine mine.

He's knows obsession. Every Ancient device that he tries to find the purpose of is regarded with pure obsession - the insane need to know how things work. But John Sheppard is not an Ancient device. He's a guy with two sides.

That's when Rodney notices the other side. The other Sheppard.

The guy he calls John.

John is standing in front of the mirror, moving his fingers back through his hair, spreading the small amount of gel far, leaving his hair artfully ruffled.

Rodney had woken up to find John missing from the bed, but a glance at his watch said John was probably in the middle of preparing his get away. For once, Rodney got up out of bed, instead of sleeping on and pulled on a T-shirt and boxers, making his way to the bathroom.

The door is open and there he is, in front of the mirror. Rodney stands there for a while, watching the play of muscles across John's shoulders, his back, the tilting and angling of his head, the way the fingers lightly fly through and back.

He hasn't seen this ritual before and wonders how many more John might have as his eyes are drawn to John's spine, sliding down to the small curve of back and pants that hang low enough to show a stripe of white boxers.

Rodney steps into John's line of vision and the preening stops, fingers mid-comb. Rodney sees one hazel eye in the mirror, looking right at him and he's never known his heart to quicken so fast. There's a small twitch to the corner of John's mouth, a somewhat dangerous smile being born right there.

He steps closer and John's arms fall to his sides, his eyes never moving from where the mirror holds them. Rodney sees himself there too, hair a mess, a face that needs a shave in contrast to John's freshly shaven face.

Rodney presses himself against John's back, letting his hands slip in front, idly and lightly scratching John's stomach. He watches his own hand drifting up, and touching the other man's cheek – soft and smooth. His hand moves so his thumb can brush John's bottom lip and when John breathes in and closes his eyes, Rodney's heart seems to come to a stuttering halt.

John opens his mouth to say something, but Rodney puts his finger across John's lips, stopping him. He can do that here. It's okay to do that here. Because even though Sheppard belongs to everyone, John is...mine.

John's head goes back just a fraction, eyes still closed and he pushes his mouth against Rodney's finger, letting it slide down his chin so Rodney's hand ends up stroking down John's throat and splaying out on his chest. He rests his forehead against John's shoulder, closes his eyes and breathes in the scent of soap, mouths the skin there, scrapes it with his teeth, sucks a little. Bites hard enough to get a surprised gasp from John.

Rodney is pulling John to face him at the same time the other man has decided to turn around and they're kissing each other hard and hungry. Rodney can't even remember getting this achingly hard, feeling John in a similar state as he shoves his body against Rodney's, both of his hands holding Rodney's face, thumbs stroking across cheeks.

Rodney shoves back, hearing a grunt as John hits the sink. Before Rodney can reach for John's pants, the other man is quickly turning them around, pulling his mouth away, a focused and heated look in his eyes as he pushes Rodney against the sink, all strange corners and come kind of copper. John has his pants and boxers down in a flash, his hands pulling down Rodney's boxers next. He looks up and smiles, a flash of teeth in his open mouth, bright smoky eyes burning holes into Rodney, his hands bracing themselves on the edges of the sink, bracketing Rodney between them.

He moves in close, pushing a kiss into Rodney's mouth, pushing him further back so he's almost balancing on the thick rim of the sink and his boxers slide from around his ankles to the floor. He holds John close, tightening his thighs and knees around the other man who's thrusting hard, sliding his cock against Rodney's, his skin heating up like a furnace under Rodney's hand.

Rodney closes his eyes, trying not to laugh into each thrust because there he is perched on the edge of a sink, a sturdy sink by the looks of it, holding onto a pair of shoulders that are a lot sturdier than they look too, and John Sheppard is humping him into the bathroom wall, making his head smack into the mirror with every thrust, his smooth cheek pressed against Rodney's unshaven one.

The last hard push feels like it's going to bring the wall down and Rodney gasps, coming just as John does, which is good because he doesn't have the energy to finish John off – the man has the stamina of an ox.

Rodney cups the back of John's hot and sweaty neck, stroking down and pressing a kiss to his cheek. John moves back slowly and Rodney finds the floor under his feet again, still holding on and feeling John's arms sneaking around him.

John's cheek slides against Rodney's until their mouths line up and John's tongue is slipping in all languid and slow, his mouth ridiculously soft to kiss. The way he whispers 'thanks' between kisses makes Rodney wonder why the hell he is so obsessed with Sheppard, when John is right here.

Maybe it's because Sheppard is so much further away than John. The unreachable is usually much more desirable than what's right in front of your face.

Rodney catches himself watching the other man go about his business, fantasizing stupid things like grabbing the other man and shoving him on top of a console and fucking him right there. He almost feels as though he's cheating on John because he seriously wants Sheppard. More than that, he wants Sheppard to admit that yes, he and Rodney, it's happening, it's going on. It's a thing.

It's what he's been thinking all the way through a mission to Planet Pointless with it's abundance of trees and lack of ZPMs.

At the end of a day, where they have successfully secured a trade of dubious looking fruit, they sit on the ground with a table of finger food at their disposal, Rodney, Teyla and Ronon watching as the chief says many complimentary things to Sheppard and everyone raises their drink in a toast to new friends.

As ever, all the natives love Sheppard. Every man, woman, child and animal can't keep their paws off. They're hypnotized by the charm and seem to forget the P90 that Sheppard never takes his hand off of. They have no idea of the ease with which Sheppard fires one of those things. In fact, they would never believe the story of the time he stopped a whole bunch of men from coming through the gate, letting them walk to their deaths.

If it needs to be done, he'll do it. Would it even have to be the right thing?

It's while Rodney's thinking these things over that Sheppard looks his way, makes one of his deceptively comical faces and goes back to smiling and nodding to the chief. Rodney just watches him for a while, finally realizing why John tosses and turns in his sleep so much. What are the odds that he's not counting sheep?

They all get a small hut to bunk in, except for Teyla. The chief insists that she should have her own bed to sleep in, so it's Rodney, Sheppard and Ronon in a small hut on low beds made of wood and rope.

Rodney goes in first, throwing his gear next to his bed and dropping back with a sigh, not bothering to take his jacket off because if you're going to sleep uncomfortably for the night, why not go all the way. Ronon comes in next, looks at the interior, shrugs at Rodney and then lands on his bed, using his coat as a blanket, his feet hanging off the end of the bed.

Maybe that's how you should sleep if you want to be really uncomfortable.

Sheppard comes in later, when the light outside the hut is as dark as it is inside. Rodney can hear Sheppard talking to a drunken sounding chief, Sheppard sounding a little too laid back himself.

He comes in and his head turns in the direction of the bed between Rodney and Ronon's. It's too dark to see more than a solid dark shape taking off his jacket and putting his P90 on the ground, within reach, so Rodney watches as the figure sits on the edge of the bed, not removing his boots or holster, just sighing a little before he flops back.

Rodney silently lies there, blinking at the silhouette of Sheppard, wishing John was around because the other guy he wants is miles away.

Rodney watches Sheppard. Sees him in Weir's office, listening intently, eyes blinking slowly, head tilted at an angle. Watches him listening to Lorne, nodding and paying complete attention. Watches him exchanging words with Carson because Ronon's been hurt on a mission, giving the doctor a satisfied nod and a pat on the arm before leaving. Watches him use the smirk he always uses around Teyla.

He's spent time with this Sheppard. He's received the intent gaze, the attention, the pat on the arm. Even the smirk. It's that thing he does, to make everyone feel like he's their friend, that dependable guy they've known for years, when really, nobody actually knows him at all. They just think they do.

Rodney ponders these questions along with another billion things on his mind. Everytime Sheppard makes a quip, Rodney thinks of John, who makes jokes, but does other things too. Things no one would expect Sheppard to do.

Sheppard snaps at him as they trudge through a forest and Rodney is rudely brought back to reality, or whatever plane of existence it is that Sheppard lives on. Rodney snipes at Sheppard that he has better places to be and Sheppard looks bored when he replies that Rodney is a member of the team, therefore required to go on missions.

They do the whole routine while Teyla and Ronon watch with amused smiles and as ever, the routine starts out looking like a potential argument and always trickles away into nothing.

It's all very normal, the way they want things to be. Nothing weird about them arguing like a married couple at all. No, the teasing certainly does not come across as flirting in broad daylight, and even if it did, who the hell would be stupid enough to assume something about the man that has chemistry even with the least non-conducting material in the universe?

It's times like these Rodney really wonders what he sees in Sheppard, because John is way better.

John turns up in the jumper bay late at night, dressed to work out, so if anyone sees him, he was running because he couldn't sleep. He knows Rodney's working late and he knows Rodney's the only one sitting there in the jumper, the bay outside of it dark. He knows Rodney is focused on his work and courtesy of Sheppard he knows something about being stealthy, which is why Rodney only sees him when he slips back out from under the console to see John standing over him with an amused smile on his face and a sparkle in his eyes that could power a whole city.

Rodney initially scowls, until John tells him he just wanted to stand there and admire the view. He looks down at himself in his old sweatshirt and faded jeans, lying there on his back like he's about to give birth and John's not laughing. He's just standing there. For a moment he looks like he's seen something unsettling, at which point Rodney wonders exactly how bad he looks lying there.

He's about to ask John if he's okay, but John holds out his hand and pulls Rodney onto his feet and straight into a searing kiss. Rodney tries to explain that a jumper is a bad idea for sex-related activities, but John doesn't listen. They're locked together in deepening kisses and Rodney goes wherever John drags him around the jumper, until they fall in the back and start pulling at each other's clothes.

Before long, Rodney is laid out over John's back, pushing into him slowly, feeling the other man shudder underneath as his breath catches. They're both slick with sweat, their skin flushed with heat and moving in and out of John is like bliss because he's so tight, and hot and he's cursing up a storm under Rodney. Rodney gets a hand under John, stroking him and thrusting hard at the same time. His knees are screaming and his weight is being supported on one hand, but it doesn't register because John is moving under him, in his hand, back against Rodney's body, into his thrusts and his fists are curled tight against the rubber mat of the jumper floor and his skin is glowing slick.

John grunts and pushes back hard as he comes, his fists curled so tight the knuckles look paper white under the lights. Rodney grabs his hips and with a few hard thrusts he's coming too and falling.

They both lie there breathing hard and Rodney closes his eyes, completely spent, his chin on John's shoulder. He feels a warm hand pat his face and opens his eyes to see John's hand reaching back limply. Rodney slowly pulls out, feeling John flinch before he turns onto his back, looking completely boneless and a little dazed.

Rodney looks down at him, taking in the glow of skin, the bright eyes and lips that look as though they've been kissed hard. He's looking for that sated look, that just fucked look. Instead, as John reaches up to run a finger from Rodney's head to the tip of his nose, gathering the sweat and flicking it away, Rodney sees the 'we're so fucked' look.

Rodney leans down and kisses John, pressing his forehead against the other man's and for the first time really hating Sheppard because John wants this. He really does.

It's Sheppard that can't deal.

As fate should have it, it's those really bad situations that offer the perspective that Rodney doesn't want. He seems to feel content in having John and wanting/hating Sheppard. But he can't continue like this. It has to be John. He has to let go of Sheppard and hold on to the friendship they have.

Having a relationship with two people is difficult. Especially when they're both the same person.

But it all makes sense in spectacular fashion. Painfully, of course, because this is Pegasus and every lesson is a painful one.

He's lying on the damp ground and there's a pain in his side, emanating outwards. His body feels as though it weighs a ton and even opening his eyes feels like a struggle.

He can hear a familiar voice, telling him to wake while something keeps tapping his face hard. He finally gets annoyed and slaps the hand away, opening his eyes to see Sheppard leaning over him.

His face has black smudges and he's lost his jacket. Rodney asks where Ronon and Teyla are and is told they made it through the gate, but he was taken down by a bullet so they didn't get very far. Rodney frowns and focuses on the pain, wondering if he can survive without a pancreas.

Things begin to gray out and he lets his eyes close, only to get a firm slap on his face with an order to wake up. Rodney tells Sheppard to give his bullet-riddled body that order and John replies that it's not bullet riddled and Rodney will be fine. Only, his voice cracks at the end and Rodney wonders if he's talking to John. But then, Sheppard's always given a shit, hasn't he?

Sheppard speaks with urgency, telling Rodney he has to leave him for a bit, get their radios back and contact Atlantis, tell them where to make a pick up, only the gate is guarded by guards with weapons that can knock out a jumper.

Of course, thinks Rodney. It's an insanely dangerous situation, how can Sheppard possibly resist? He tells Sheppard he'll get himself killed because there will be too many, but even in the fuzz of pain and painkillers, he sees that look on Sheppard's face. That determined look that will keep him going until he either gets the job done, or falls doing it.

It's a kind of a pathetic realization to make, but if Sheppard goes, John goes. They're kind of a package deal. Rodney really doesn't want to lose either.

Sheppard orders him to keep calm and keep awake, promising he'll be right back as he checks the clip of his gun. Rodney finds the strength somewhere, probably that pit of fear in his stomach, and reaches out to grab Sheppard's wrist in a weak grasp, noticing the blood on Sheppard's hands for the first time.

Sheppard's conflicted face looks down, something dark in his eyes that Rodney's seen before, but never while he was with John. Rodney tells him that he'll get himself killed. Sheppard replies that if he does nothing, Rodney will bleed to death. He says nothing more and Rodney knows it's because Sheppard has to be the one that goes out there, not John.

So he hates John a little too now, because unlike Sheppard, he's too scared to say something even if they both end up dead.

Either that or he's just too stubborn to die.

Feeling the hard slap to his face shouldn't make him feel the relief he does, but he knows the hand and the long fingers against his cheek. When he still doesn't open his eyes, there's a desperate 'come on, Rodney' and a mouth pressing hard against his and kissing with a ragged breath.

Rodney's eyes creak open like doors on dead hinges as he tries to focus through a haze of pain and confusion. His vision is blurred and watery making his head spin and his stomach roll, but he needs to see him, John – Sheppard – both of them.

He almost laughs when he does see them both, next to each other and wearing identical expressions of worry, joint together and blurred around the edges. When the fog clears, both John and Sheppard slide into the same spot, leaving behind one man.

Rodney murmurs John's name because he's the one that kissed him with such desperation. He's the one that wears the mask. He's the one that pretends to be Sheppard. All this time Rodney's been wanting to make Sheppard his, when Sheppard's been there all along, hanging around John's neck in two pieces of metal.

John looks tired and beat, one side of his face red with blood from a gash near the corner of his eye. Rodney reaches for it with a frown and John stops him, holding his hand tight and telling him 'they're on the way' and to 'just keep talking'.

So he asks John why the no gay sexual activity off-world rule just got broken, since kissing falls under said category. John laughs a little and shakes his head, calling Rodney a son of a bitch for making him think he was talking to a man on his deathbed.

It may be Rodney's weird bullet hole in the pancreas vision, but John's eyes look awfully bright and suddenly the rule kind of makes sense.

Suddenly John Sheppard makes sense.

Mine, Rodney thinks. He was always mine.

- the end -