"Stop doing that," he said, trying to inch away from the weight of Ronon's arm and the fit of his big annoying hand against the side of Rodney's neck, but the other man was clearly determined to maintain his pretense of huddling to conserve body heat, so Rodney sighed and settled in and tried not to notice how his own head had found its perfect jigsaw match in the juncture of Ronon's jaw and neck and shoulder. He'd assumed that Ronon had a big stupid thing for Sheppard, given the doglike way he dogged his heels, but the tickling of his dreadlocks and beard was getting more and more suggestive, almost enough to distract Rodney from the hunger and the sudden pressing question of whether there were spiders in the trees above them, and more than enough to distract him from the realization that he'd been narrating most of his thoughts aloud for the last fifteen minutes.
more
