John's willing to admit his crush on Rodney might be getting a little out of hand.

"I can't believe you got us thrown in jail for being gay," Rodney says, scowling at him from the other side of their tiny grass hut. John loves it when Rodney scowls. John must have a goofy look on his face because Rodney kicks at him and scowls even harder. "And why am I here? I wasn't even sitting at the same table as you!"

"Beats me," John says, as if he hadn't been staring after Rodney like a lovesick teenager.

Their hut's not even tall enough to stand up in and Rodney slumps back against the grass wall. "God, this is a stupid way to die."

"Teyla and Ronon will rescue us," John says. "I told 'em to bring some hedge clippers."

"That's not the point! First of all, hello, hate crime. For all we know we're going to be put on a spit and roasted alive. Secondly, you're not even gay!"

And here's the crux of the problem. Crazy mud-covered aliens can tell he's gay just by looking at him, but Rodney's still operating on the (false) assumption that just because John smiles at girls means he likes to fuck them.

John lounges against the hut's central pole. "I could be gay."

Rodney stops gnawing at the twine binding his wrists together and looks up at John.

"Your hair's kind of gay," he allows.

"See?" John says, wiggling over to Rodney's side. "Let me help you with that."

The mud people must not get a lot of prisoners because they bound John and Rodney with their hands in front of them. Their legs aren't tied at all and John decides the best way to work on Rodney's hands is to straddle his thighs and sit right in his lap. This has the added bonus of putting Rodney's hands deliciously close to John's crotch.

"Um, Colonel?" says Rodney.

John runs his fingers over Rodney's bonds. "Yeah?"

"You're, sitting in my lap?"

"Looks like it."

"Oh," says Rodney. "That's a little gay, right?"

"Little bit," John says, accidentally brushing his fingers over the front of Rodney's pants. Rodney arches into the touch and his eyes go big and surprised.

"In my defense --" Rodney says, but John kisses him before he can finish. Rodney, always one to belabor a point, abruptly turns over a new leaf and kisses him back without complaint. They kiss with their mouths open, wet and hungry. Their tongues slide together. Their eyes stay open.

"Oh," Rodney says again.

John rocks against him, twists their fingers together and uses them to rub Rodney through his pants, to learn the length and size of his cock. Rodney's hard and big and John's never felt so gay in his life. Rodney moans into his mouth and then suddenly everything gets a lot brighter. John squints up at the blinding sun and tries to make sense of what's happening.

Ronon's ripped the roof off their little hut and is peering in at them. "You guys need a minute?"

"Do we have a minute?" John asks.

"Oh my god," Rodney says. "Do you never learn? Your unrelenting horndoggery is what got us into this trouble in the first place!" He tips John off his lap and stands up. "Well?" he says, shoving his bound hands at Ronon.

Ronon raises an eyebrow, but produces one of his knives and slices through the twine. John's next, but when they climb out of the hut, they find the village deserted.

"Oh, we totally had a minute," John complains.

They head back to the gate, Teyla on their six and Ronon scouting ahead.

"So, it comes to my attention that I may have been slightly wrong about you," Rodney says.

"I like cock," John says. "Wanna make out later?"

Rodney trips on a tree root and John catches him by the arm, maybe he's got this crush thing under control after all.