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The good news: neither of them was injured, beyond hard bruises and scrapes; rescue would be forthcoming in a few hours when Atlantis checked in; there were no hostiles on this planet.
The bad news: cold. Not hypothermia-inducing, but so fucking cold, enough to necessitate they huddle together even if they weren’t trapped in an unreasonably small space for two adult humans who were, to John’s eternal regret, just good friends.
At first, McKay babbled into the darkness. Which was his signature tune, really.
For the first months of their acquaintance, John had felt irritated by Rodney’s anxious prattle, but over time he’d been far too busy fighting fantasies about kissing the man silent, kissing the man stupid to be really bothered by the noise, and by now, so many years in, he just felt reassured by it.
Their bodies were pressed close, unavoidably, wedged in a fissure that only just accommodated them, hemmed in by a huge boulder from the rockfall above them. John could see patches of starlight around the edges of it, but there was no gap big enough for a man to crawl through. The combat engineers would be able to get them out, though. A jumper could move that boulder.
And maybe it was the sight of starlight that was helping Rodney manage his claustrophobia, because really, he was doing amazingly well. John felt proud of him for that. When John thought about how close they’d come to being turned to jam, his own heartrate spiked uncomfortably. They were safe now; he was pretty sure. He let out a breath and his body relaxed against Rodney’s.
Fortunately, they were at a slight cross to one another, chests pressed together but Rodney’s hips were below John’s, meaning John’s groin was mercifully pushed against cold rock, not warm Rodney. Rodney was holding his head up at an awkward angle, clearly trying not to invade John’s space, but it was impossible.
“Relax, McKay, we’re gonna be here a while,” John said, arms tugging Rodney closer.
He knew Rodney was tired – working late last night on shutting off another rogue ascension device. The man had turned up to work this morning – only two hours ago, regardless of what the night sky above might have to say – in yesterday's rumbled clothes, unshaven and gulping sugary coffee. His vaguely – tangy – scent surrounded John, but he found it comforting and familiar and oddly appealing.
Rodney relaxed, lowering his face into John’s neck, his stubble scraping John’s newly-shaved skin, his breath hot. John shivered.
“You cold?” Rodney murmured into his neck, the vibration of his lips delicious against John’s skin.
John shivered again.
Rodney shifted as much as he was able to provide more body warmth, smooshing himself against John’s body.
“There’s nothing to you,” he said softly, “you’re gonna lose heat fast.”
Rodney nuzzled in more, his lips brushing John’s neck again, and John couldn’t disguise his sharp intake of breath.
“Huh,” Rodney said, as if he’d just spotted some interesting energy reading.
He moved his face against John’s neck so his lips brushed again, this time more deliberately.
John went to pieces, just like that, making a little noise in his throat that was unambiguously needy. Rodney replied with an approving hum, this time pressing a kiss to John’s jugular.
“Rodney…” John said breathlessly.
“Shhhh, I’m busy figuring something out,” Rodney said, his voice amused and fond.
His lips worked their way to John’s jaw, mouthing along it by increments, nipping at it with a light graze of teeth alongside the prickle of his stubble.
John tried hard not to whimper. He didn’t manage not to make pleased little sighs, though.
And then Rodney pressed an oh-so-gentle kiss into the corner of John’s mouth, and quickly pulled away.
John felt bereft at the loss.
“I can stop, if you want me to,” Rodney said, his voice sounding deservedly smug. Attractively smug, dammit.
“Never,” John ground out, his own voice sounding a little strained and very desperate.
Rodney’s lips located his, then, full-on, open and hungry and oh, so intense. Because of course Rodney was a genius kisser and thank god he was greedy for it, like it meant something to him too.
Well of course it did, you don’t go kissing your closest friend for a casual thing. Rodney was way too kind for that. Which meant… oh god, it meant this was something.
John melted into the kiss, their lips nipping at each other. He was enjoying the scratch of Rodney’s stubble, welcoming a clever, probing tongue, his own flirting back with intent. Rodney’s hand, which had been looped around him and resting between his shoulder blades, slid with deft fingers up his neck and into his hair. John shuddered at Rodney’s touch. It was as if sparks were pouring from his fingertips, igniting John.
How could anything possibly feel this good? Kissing Rodney was better than he’d fantasised, and he’d fantasised it as amazing.
They lost time like that, unable to pause the slow and thorough exploration of each other’s mouths, lips, faces, necks. Maybe an hour later, maybe more, Rodney buried his face into John’s neck, his breath ragged, and held John to him even more tightly.
John hadn’t been cold in a long while.
“Didn’t know this was an option,” Rodney said. “How long has this been an option?”
“Um, this was always an option,” John said, pressing a kiss into Rodney’s hair, his lips unable to leave the other man alone.
An oddly turquoise dawn was ambling along the skyline when the combat engineers arrived. The two of them were stiff and beginning to feel their knocks and bruises, but for the intervening time they had never quite managed to stop kissing for long, their lips drawn powerfully back to each other. It was inexorable, like some fundamental scientific force. It made John wonder how this never happened before.
There wasn’t a shred of doubt that it would happen again. And again.
When they were freed, it was to a cold pre-dawn light. Carson was there to check their injuries, but John was typically stoic and Rodney surprisingly so.
“Looks like you scraped your face on the rock as you fell, son,” Carson said to John. “Let’s get something on that.”
John felt his eartips burn as Rodney hid a smirk behind a pretence at coughing.
He wasn’t going to complain. He hadn’t been kissed this thoroughly since his teens, and he was definitely going to make sure it happened again very soon – just as soon as McKay had a good, close shave.