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gilascaveChapter Seven here.
Chapters 1-6 here.
Chapter Eight
Waking up was a slow, extremely comfortable affair. There was a warm body nestled in his arms, a leg tangled in-between his, and absolutely no part of his body that was cold -- which meant that John had failed to steal the blanket during the night.
Rodney shifted a little, thinking that there was a reason why his brain was telling him he could stay in bed today. Nothing on the schedule...aha. Yes. No work for a month, because everyone had gone to Earth.
His eyes snapped open as the rest of the previous day flooded his brain and he found Carson's sleeping face only a few inches away from his own.
Oh. Oh, yeah. Not 'oh yeah' in a bad way, he hastened to assure himself. But -- wow.
He hadn't actually thought Carson would say yes. He'd been hoping, wishing for it since Antarctica and meeting him for the first time and hearing that voice and seeing those eyes and that ass. But he'd resigned himself to a world of 'no' until -- was it only yesterday? Good thing Rodney was genius enough not to have hesitated when Carson had agreed because if he had, Rodney would have to turn in his Mensa card.
Carson stirred and Rodney found his thoughts stuttering to a halt. God, he was beautiful. Handsome. Guys were handsome, sunsets were beautiful. Carson was handsome.
And sexy as anything, and Rodney wondered if it would be too much of a morning-after cliche to wake Carson and John up to have another round. Of course that would mean getting his arm back from under Carson's head and reviving it first so he'd have the use of it. That thought led to whether or not he would rather go to the bathroom, then get a cup of coffee, and *then* have morning-after sex.
Since he didn't have to prevent John from rushing off to work, nor field frantic calls from the lab of people saying that if he didn't get down there right now the city was going to blow up -- he thought he might just manage it today.
Plan made, Rodney leaned down and gave each sleeping face a kiss -- keeping his mouth closed because he might be having sex with them but that didn't mean he had to endure morning breath -- and eased himself out of the bed. Magically expanding bed, he remembered, and added it to the ever-growing list of things he had to make Carson show him and gripe about the fact he had to *make* Carson do it instead of sharing freely.
He might actually be able to get through his list in the next four weeks. They had time, and it wasn't like Carson was going to get away from him again. If he had to duct tape him to Rodney's ankle, he wasn't going anywhere without Rodney shadowing him.
Second-most important business of the morning dealt with, Rodney wandered out of the bathroom and over to the corner of Carson's room that served as a kitchenette. He had no idea what Carson had by way of coffee substitute -- Atlantis had run out a month ago, and didn't every scientist in his department have strict orders to bring back more -- but he knew there would be something that could charitably be called tea. Whether or not he wanted tea was another question entirely. He set water on the hot place to boil, and dug around to find three cups.
He only found two, so he made a mental note to steal Christie's coffee mug and bring it down here. He was getting the so-called tea ready when he heard noise from the bed. Glancing over, he saw John leaning over and placing a kiss on Carson's cheek.
Rodney just stared for a moment, not bothering to wonder why he was grinning like a sap. John looked up and his expression turned into one of eager interest -- because of the tea, Rodney knew. He'd spent enough mornings with John to know the difference between 'naked Rodney' and 'bring me that cup.' Though he pretended otherwise, John was just as addicted to caffeine as Rodney was.
"It's still seeping," Rodney said.
John opened his mouth to say something, paused, then frowned. "It's tea?"
"Go figure. The Scots never have learned how to be a civilized people." Rodney glanced at Carson, but he didn't stir.
"I thought tea *was* civilized," John said, getting out of bed and walking over to get the cup of tea, despite the fact it wouldn't be drinkable for another three minutes. Or ever, depending on what blend it was.
"Coffee is civilized. Beer, also. Fresh black tea from Tetley's, possibly. But the stuff we've been getting from the Athosian village? Is like pouring water over grass."
"So why are we drinking it?" John took a sip of his, then looked surprised. He stared into the cup as Rodney answered him.
"Because neither of us wants to go back to my quarters and get-- what? What's wrong?"
John was motioning towards Rodney's cup, trying to either pull it away from him, or dump it onto his head.
"What are you doing?"
"Taste it!"
He started to ask why, then figured it would be easier to taste, as directed. He did so, then took another taste. He swirled the water a bit, trying to stir it. In case that made a difference. Then he took another taste.
Rodney set his cup down on the table, and stalked over to the bed. He shook Carson's shoulder. Carson muttered, and rolled away from him.
"Wake up, Carson. Where did you get the instant coffee?"
Carson didn't stir. Rodney thumped him this time, not trying to actually cause damage. Yet. Carson muttered something distinctly cranky and rolled away farther. In the bed that was big enough for him to do so, Rodney noted again.
"Carson!" John snapped, having come over to assist.
Carson finally opened one eye. "Whuh?" He blinked at them blearily.
"Coffee," Rodney said.
"Do' wan any, thankee." Carson closed his eyes again.
"Where did you get it," Rodney asked again. "And why didn't you *tell* anyone?" It didn't really matter to Rodney that the instant coffee tasted like *crap* coffee. It wasn't good for instant instant coffee. It was more like instant coffee's third cousin twice removed.
It was the most coffee-like thing he'd had in weeks. He shook Carson again.
There was a moment when Carson didn't respond, and Rodney thought he might have to dump Carson out of the bed. But eventually Carson opened his eyes and looked up at them.
"What are you on about?"
"You have instant coffee," Rodney said. "And I'm deeply hurt you didn't tell us."
Carson was blinking at them again and Rodney wondered if he was really awake. He certainly looked more asleep than awake.
It occurred to him that a half-awake, naked Carson was possibly the most adorable thing he'd ever seen. But he told himself to focus. Coffee was *important*, dammit. Not as important as giving Carson a kiss, but at the moment he was irritated. He took another drink of his coffee and could feel the various caffeine-deprived systems in his brain waking up after a long, cold sleep.
"I don't have coffee," Carson finally said.
"Then what, pray tell, are we drinking?"
Carson took a moment to focus on the cups in his and John's hands. "Tea?" he said, obviously guessing. He rubbed a hand over his face and yawned. Blinked again and Rodney had a feeling that if he didn't keep Carson talking, he'd fall back to sleep.
"It isn't tea. It looks like tea, it was in a tin labeled 'tea', but it is clearly coffee. Not great coffee, to be sure. But coffee nonetheless. And we want to know where you got it."
There was a long moment when Carson just looked at them. Then he pushed himself into a sitting position, and stared at the cups in their hands. "Tea," he repeated.
"Clearly you aren't awake." Rodney sat down beside Carson and showed him the inside of his cup. He pulled at Carson's shoulder to bring him forward so he could get a sniff. Carson did so, then looked up at him. Eyes still half-open, and Rodney felt badly for not letting him go back to sleep.
Sort of.
Carson nodded and made as though to lie back down. John caught him, and kept him upright. "Just tell us where you got it, and you can sleep in as long as you like. Promise."
"From Teyla," Carson said, yawning again.
Rodney glanced at John, who looked equally confused. "She doesn't have coffee."
"No," Carson agreed, nodding. "Tea." Carson's eyes were closed again, and despite being held upright, he falling back asleep.
"Carson! Taste this." Rodney held the cup out. Carson tried to open his eyes, and after a bit, took the cup from Rodney. He sipped it, then nodded.
"Seeped a bit long," he said, giving the cup back.
"It isn't tea," Rodney insisted.
Carson finally opened an eye, and finally, for the first time all morning, looked awake. "Who was it warned me I was sleeping with morning people?" he asked.
"We're only morning people when we have our coffee," John said.
It took a moment for Carson to process this, then -- blessedly -- his face cleared. "Oh. Oh, the tea. Aye, Teyla said you'd like it. Tastes like coffee, if it's brewed right."
Rodney stared at him. John was as well, which made Rodney feel better about not having a fucking clue what Carson meant. Carson looked back at them, yawned, rubbed his face and sighed. "She gave me the tea a couple weeks ago. Said she'd tried to give some to the pair of you but you," he nodded at Rodney, "Turned your nose up as soon as the word 'tea' left her mouth. She said you'd hear about it eventually, and it would serve you right."
Rodney looked at John. "What did *you* do to piss her off?"
John shrugged. "Could be any number of things."
"So now that your great mystery is solved, might I be excused for a moment?" Carson nodded towards the bathroom.
"I still think you should have told us." Rodney took another drink of his tea as Carson scooted past him to get out of the bed. Damn, but it tasted like coffee. Almost. Close enough that Carson was going to-- walk away from them, bare-ass naked.
Rodney dropped his cup.
"Yeah. I was thinking the same thing," John said.
"We're brilliant," Rodney said.
"Because we decided to be here when he walked away like that?"
"Exactly." Rodney waited for Carson to come back out, because then he'd be walking towards them.
"I believe I was the one who figured out he wanted to sleep with you," John said with a smug tone.
Rodney couldn't believe he was trying to out-do him on *this*. "And I'm the one who made a pass at him first!"
"Which he didn't even realise was you making a pass!" John countered.
"That's not my fault! My point is, *I* decided he had a great arse and needed to be naked as often as possible. In my presence," he hastened to add.
"Only because I didn't even meet him until we were ready to come to Atlantis." John frowned at him.
"You don't really argue about this, do you?" Carson asked. They turned and Rodney cursed.
Carson was wearing a bathrobe. And looking at them like he was blushing red from head to toe, only they couldn't tell because -- bathrobe.
"We also argue about whether or not Radek would--"
Rodney elbowed John in the ribs. Too late; Carson's eyebrows had crawled straight up and his eyes had gone wide enough to qualify him for a manga publication.
"Ignore him," Rodney said. "Why are you wearing clothes?"
Carson looked down, as though making sure he knew what Rodney was talking about. He looked confused when he raised his head again. "Because I don't fancy wandering the hallways in my all-together?"
"We're having sex in the hallway again? Cool." John set his cup down.
"I meant, breakfast." Carson seemed a lot less poised than he had last night. Well, Rodney amended the thought, he'd only seemed poised once they'd got him aroused enough to stop stammering.
Rodney was about to cast his vote with John, when his stomach growled. Carson gave him a very slight but extremely amused grin. That, coupled with the thought he was reluctantly having about maybe not going so fast that Carson decided this was a horrible mistake, made him say, "We can do breakfast."
John nodded, though he looked disappointed. Then he brightened. "Sex in the mess hall?"
Carson made a choking sound.
"At the biologists' table," Rodney suggested.
"I just wanted oatmeal," Carson said, in a weak voice.
*******
"Oh, not again." Carson set down his spoon. He'd got halfway through his oatmeal before John had flung a spoonful of his own at him. Warm oatmeal had landed right on his shoulder and stuck there.
John just grinned, evilly. It was a look Carson was definitely learning to associate heavily with the man.
"He just likes licking it off," Rodney said casually. He was sitting beside Carson, with John on the opposite side of the table. Both John and Rodney were completely and utterly naked -- which Carson found extremely distracting. He'd kept his robe on until they'd sat down -- at which point Rodney had pulled it open and down, and explained that it wasn't fair for him to wear a robe while everyone else in the room was naked.
"So I've noticed." Carson didn't try to wipe it off. He'd done that the first morning, and been faced with not only a severely pouting John Sheppard, but he'd had oatmeal flung at him from both directions.
It had all led to a very bewildering day -- they'd actually had sex in the mess hall, which meant Carson wouldn't be able to eat here ever again once everyone returned from Earth. They'd done some heavy petting in the hallway, and when Carson had suggested getting some work done in the gateroom, he'd been given front row seat to John and Rodney making out on the floor in front of the stargate.
He'd thought about dialing the gate, just to see how fast they could run. But he'd stifled the urge, and now -- with John leaning over the table to start licking him clean -- he thought perhaps he should have done it.
Not that he really minded having John's tongue all over him while Rodney made encouraging noises. But he wished something about this whole situation could have been something he'd not have been ashamed to tell his mother about.
He realised he hadn't given his family a single thought since he'd seen John and Rodney standing in the gateroom two days ago.
"What's wrong?" John looked up, half-lying across the table.
Carson shook his head.
"Carson?" Rodney touched his hand, briefly.
"Sorry, I-- just had a bit of...homesickness."
John raised an eyebrow. "While I'm licking oatmeal off your shoulder? This was something you did a lot, back home?" Despite his words, his tone was soft and serious.
"I was just wondering how I'd ever explain you to my mum. I think she'd.... No. After Josh, she'd likely just insist you both come for dinner, Sundays. But I don't think I'd be able to eat a single bite for fear what you two would be doing under the table."
John smiled. "I'd be very good at your mother's," he promised.
"In the car home, after, he'd be bad," Rodney said, matter-of-factly.
Carson couldn't believe they were sitting there, talking about impossibilities as though it were only a matter of time. As though either of them would ever really go visit his mum -- though of course John and Rodney could.
He pushed himself away from the table suddenly. Trying to hold back the rush of emotion, he felt Rodney take his arm and pull him over. John spun around to sit on the table in front of him, reaching out for Carson's other arm.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Don't be sorry," Rodney said, and Carson found himself being pulled close. He let his head fall onto Rodney's shoulder and tried very hard not to cry.
**********
Chapters 1-6 here.
Chapter Eight
Waking up was a slow, extremely comfortable affair. There was a warm body nestled in his arms, a leg tangled in-between his, and absolutely no part of his body that was cold -- which meant that John had failed to steal the blanket during the night.
Rodney shifted a little, thinking that there was a reason why his brain was telling him he could stay in bed today. Nothing on the schedule...aha. Yes. No work for a month, because everyone had gone to Earth.
His eyes snapped open as the rest of the previous day flooded his brain and he found Carson's sleeping face only a few inches away from his own.
Oh. Oh, yeah. Not 'oh yeah' in a bad way, he hastened to assure himself. But -- wow.
He hadn't actually thought Carson would say yes. He'd been hoping, wishing for it since Antarctica and meeting him for the first time and hearing that voice and seeing those eyes and that ass. But he'd resigned himself to a world of 'no' until -- was it only yesterday? Good thing Rodney was genius enough not to have hesitated when Carson had agreed because if he had, Rodney would have to turn in his Mensa card.
Carson stirred and Rodney found his thoughts stuttering to a halt. God, he was beautiful. Handsome. Guys were handsome, sunsets were beautiful. Carson was handsome.
And sexy as anything, and Rodney wondered if it would be too much of a morning-after cliche to wake Carson and John up to have another round. Of course that would mean getting his arm back from under Carson's head and reviving it first so he'd have the use of it. That thought led to whether or not he would rather go to the bathroom, then get a cup of coffee, and *then* have morning-after sex.
Since he didn't have to prevent John from rushing off to work, nor field frantic calls from the lab of people saying that if he didn't get down there right now the city was going to blow up -- he thought he might just manage it today.
Plan made, Rodney leaned down and gave each sleeping face a kiss -- keeping his mouth closed because he might be having sex with them but that didn't mean he had to endure morning breath -- and eased himself out of the bed. Magically expanding bed, he remembered, and added it to the ever-growing list of things he had to make Carson show him and gripe about the fact he had to *make* Carson do it instead of sharing freely.
He might actually be able to get through his list in the next four weeks. They had time, and it wasn't like Carson was going to get away from him again. If he had to duct tape him to Rodney's ankle, he wasn't going anywhere without Rodney shadowing him.
Second-most important business of the morning dealt with, Rodney wandered out of the bathroom and over to the corner of Carson's room that served as a kitchenette. He had no idea what Carson had by way of coffee substitute -- Atlantis had run out a month ago, and didn't every scientist in his department have strict orders to bring back more -- but he knew there would be something that could charitably be called tea. Whether or not he wanted tea was another question entirely. He set water on the hot place to boil, and dug around to find three cups.
He only found two, so he made a mental note to steal Christie's coffee mug and bring it down here. He was getting the so-called tea ready when he heard noise from the bed. Glancing over, he saw John leaning over and placing a kiss on Carson's cheek.
Rodney just stared for a moment, not bothering to wonder why he was grinning like a sap. John looked up and his expression turned into one of eager interest -- because of the tea, Rodney knew. He'd spent enough mornings with John to know the difference between 'naked Rodney' and 'bring me that cup.' Though he pretended otherwise, John was just as addicted to caffeine as Rodney was.
"It's still seeping," Rodney said.
John opened his mouth to say something, paused, then frowned. "It's tea?"
"Go figure. The Scots never have learned how to be a civilized people." Rodney glanced at Carson, but he didn't stir.
"I thought tea *was* civilized," John said, getting out of bed and walking over to get the cup of tea, despite the fact it wouldn't be drinkable for another three minutes. Or ever, depending on what blend it was.
"Coffee is civilized. Beer, also. Fresh black tea from Tetley's, possibly. But the stuff we've been getting from the Athosian village? Is like pouring water over grass."
"So why are we drinking it?" John took a sip of his, then looked surprised. He stared into the cup as Rodney answered him.
"Because neither of us wants to go back to my quarters and get-- what? What's wrong?"
John was motioning towards Rodney's cup, trying to either pull it away from him, or dump it onto his head.
"What are you doing?"
"Taste it!"
He started to ask why, then figured it would be easier to taste, as directed. He did so, then took another taste. He swirled the water a bit, trying to stir it. In case that made a difference. Then he took another taste.
Rodney set his cup down on the table, and stalked over to the bed. He shook Carson's shoulder. Carson muttered, and rolled away from him.
"Wake up, Carson. Where did you get the instant coffee?"
Carson didn't stir. Rodney thumped him this time, not trying to actually cause damage. Yet. Carson muttered something distinctly cranky and rolled away farther. In the bed that was big enough for him to do so, Rodney noted again.
"Carson!" John snapped, having come over to assist.
Carson finally opened one eye. "Whuh?" He blinked at them blearily.
"Coffee," Rodney said.
"Do' wan any, thankee." Carson closed his eyes again.
"Where did you get it," Rodney asked again. "And why didn't you *tell* anyone?" It didn't really matter to Rodney that the instant coffee tasted like *crap* coffee. It wasn't good for instant instant coffee. It was more like instant coffee's third cousin twice removed.
It was the most coffee-like thing he'd had in weeks. He shook Carson again.
There was a moment when Carson didn't respond, and Rodney thought he might have to dump Carson out of the bed. But eventually Carson opened his eyes and looked up at them.
"What are you on about?"
"You have instant coffee," Rodney said. "And I'm deeply hurt you didn't tell us."
Carson was blinking at them again and Rodney wondered if he was really awake. He certainly looked more asleep than awake.
It occurred to him that a half-awake, naked Carson was possibly the most adorable thing he'd ever seen. But he told himself to focus. Coffee was *important*, dammit. Not as important as giving Carson a kiss, but at the moment he was irritated. He took another drink of his coffee and could feel the various caffeine-deprived systems in his brain waking up after a long, cold sleep.
"I don't have coffee," Carson finally said.
"Then what, pray tell, are we drinking?"
Carson took a moment to focus on the cups in his and John's hands. "Tea?" he said, obviously guessing. He rubbed a hand over his face and yawned. Blinked again and Rodney had a feeling that if he didn't keep Carson talking, he'd fall back to sleep.
"It isn't tea. It looks like tea, it was in a tin labeled 'tea', but it is clearly coffee. Not great coffee, to be sure. But coffee nonetheless. And we want to know where you got it."
There was a long moment when Carson just looked at them. Then he pushed himself into a sitting position, and stared at the cups in their hands. "Tea," he repeated.
"Clearly you aren't awake." Rodney sat down beside Carson and showed him the inside of his cup. He pulled at Carson's shoulder to bring him forward so he could get a sniff. Carson did so, then looked up at him. Eyes still half-open, and Rodney felt badly for not letting him go back to sleep.
Sort of.
Carson nodded and made as though to lie back down. John caught him, and kept him upright. "Just tell us where you got it, and you can sleep in as long as you like. Promise."
"From Teyla," Carson said, yawning again.
Rodney glanced at John, who looked equally confused. "She doesn't have coffee."
"No," Carson agreed, nodding. "Tea." Carson's eyes were closed again, and despite being held upright, he falling back asleep.
"Carson! Taste this." Rodney held the cup out. Carson tried to open his eyes, and after a bit, took the cup from Rodney. He sipped it, then nodded.
"Seeped a bit long," he said, giving the cup back.
"It isn't tea," Rodney insisted.
Carson finally opened an eye, and finally, for the first time all morning, looked awake. "Who was it warned me I was sleeping with morning people?" he asked.
"We're only morning people when we have our coffee," John said.
It took a moment for Carson to process this, then -- blessedly -- his face cleared. "Oh. Oh, the tea. Aye, Teyla said you'd like it. Tastes like coffee, if it's brewed right."
Rodney stared at him. John was as well, which made Rodney feel better about not having a fucking clue what Carson meant. Carson looked back at them, yawned, rubbed his face and sighed. "She gave me the tea a couple weeks ago. Said she'd tried to give some to the pair of you but you," he nodded at Rodney, "Turned your nose up as soon as the word 'tea' left her mouth. She said you'd hear about it eventually, and it would serve you right."
Rodney looked at John. "What did *you* do to piss her off?"
John shrugged. "Could be any number of things."
"So now that your great mystery is solved, might I be excused for a moment?" Carson nodded towards the bathroom.
"I still think you should have told us." Rodney took another drink of his tea as Carson scooted past him to get out of the bed. Damn, but it tasted like coffee. Almost. Close enough that Carson was going to-- walk away from them, bare-ass naked.
Rodney dropped his cup.
"Yeah. I was thinking the same thing," John said.
"We're brilliant," Rodney said.
"Because we decided to be here when he walked away like that?"
"Exactly." Rodney waited for Carson to come back out, because then he'd be walking towards them.
"I believe I was the one who figured out he wanted to sleep with you," John said with a smug tone.
Rodney couldn't believe he was trying to out-do him on *this*. "And I'm the one who made a pass at him first!"
"Which he didn't even realise was you making a pass!" John countered.
"That's not my fault! My point is, *I* decided he had a great arse and needed to be naked as often as possible. In my presence," he hastened to add.
"Only because I didn't even meet him until we were ready to come to Atlantis." John frowned at him.
"You don't really argue about this, do you?" Carson asked. They turned and Rodney cursed.
Carson was wearing a bathrobe. And looking at them like he was blushing red from head to toe, only they couldn't tell because -- bathrobe.
"We also argue about whether or not Radek would--"
Rodney elbowed John in the ribs. Too late; Carson's eyebrows had crawled straight up and his eyes had gone wide enough to qualify him for a manga publication.
"Ignore him," Rodney said. "Why are you wearing clothes?"
Carson looked down, as though making sure he knew what Rodney was talking about. He looked confused when he raised his head again. "Because I don't fancy wandering the hallways in my all-together?"
"We're having sex in the hallway again? Cool." John set his cup down.
"I meant, breakfast." Carson seemed a lot less poised than he had last night. Well, Rodney amended the thought, he'd only seemed poised once they'd got him aroused enough to stop stammering.
Rodney was about to cast his vote with John, when his stomach growled. Carson gave him a very slight but extremely amused grin. That, coupled with the thought he was reluctantly having about maybe not going so fast that Carson decided this was a horrible mistake, made him say, "We can do breakfast."
John nodded, though he looked disappointed. Then he brightened. "Sex in the mess hall?"
Carson made a choking sound.
"At the biologists' table," Rodney suggested.
"I just wanted oatmeal," Carson said, in a weak voice.
*******
"Oh, not again." Carson set down his spoon. He'd got halfway through his oatmeal before John had flung a spoonful of his own at him. Warm oatmeal had landed right on his shoulder and stuck there.
John just grinned, evilly. It was a look Carson was definitely learning to associate heavily with the man.
"He just likes licking it off," Rodney said casually. He was sitting beside Carson, with John on the opposite side of the table. Both John and Rodney were completely and utterly naked -- which Carson found extremely distracting. He'd kept his robe on until they'd sat down -- at which point Rodney had pulled it open and down, and explained that it wasn't fair for him to wear a robe while everyone else in the room was naked.
"So I've noticed." Carson didn't try to wipe it off. He'd done that the first morning, and been faced with not only a severely pouting John Sheppard, but he'd had oatmeal flung at him from both directions.
It had all led to a very bewildering day -- they'd actually had sex in the mess hall, which meant Carson wouldn't be able to eat here ever again once everyone returned from Earth. They'd done some heavy petting in the hallway, and when Carson had suggested getting some work done in the gateroom, he'd been given front row seat to John and Rodney making out on the floor in front of the stargate.
He'd thought about dialing the gate, just to see how fast they could run. But he'd stifled the urge, and now -- with John leaning over the table to start licking him clean -- he thought perhaps he should have done it.
Not that he really minded having John's tongue all over him while Rodney made encouraging noises. But he wished something about this whole situation could have been something he'd not have been ashamed to tell his mother about.
He realised he hadn't given his family a single thought since he'd seen John and Rodney standing in the gateroom two days ago.
"What's wrong?" John looked up, half-lying across the table.
Carson shook his head.
"Carson?" Rodney touched his hand, briefly.
"Sorry, I-- just had a bit of...homesickness."
John raised an eyebrow. "While I'm licking oatmeal off your shoulder? This was something you did a lot, back home?" Despite his words, his tone was soft and serious.
"I was just wondering how I'd ever explain you to my mum. I think she'd.... No. After Josh, she'd likely just insist you both come for dinner, Sundays. But I don't think I'd be able to eat a single bite for fear what you two would be doing under the table."
John smiled. "I'd be very good at your mother's," he promised.
"In the car home, after, he'd be bad," Rodney said, matter-of-factly.
Carson couldn't believe they were sitting there, talking about impossibilities as though it were only a matter of time. As though either of them would ever really go visit his mum -- though of course John and Rodney could.
He pushed himself away from the table suddenly. Trying to hold back the rush of emotion, he felt Rodney take his arm and pull him over. John spun around to sit on the table in front of him, reaching out for Carson's other arm.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Don't be sorry," Rodney said, and Carson found himself being pulled close. He let his head fall onto Rodney's shoulder and tried very hard not to cry.
**********