R. Sam/Jack/Jonas, humor. I apologise for this in advance. Thanks: Michelle (who is responsible for some of the funnier bits) and Suz.
Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit.
Jonas is exhausted. Jonas is more exhausted than he has ever been in his life. Even his astoundingly impressive (or so he’s been told) Kelownan physique can’t quite keep up with this. Really, the average Earthling would have collapsed months ago.
He doesn’t begrudge them the time, or the physical energy exerted, and goodness knows he has no complaints about the fringe benefits. He’s not even particularly worried about the guilt they both so obviously feel; that’s their issue, not his. These Earthlings — they take sex way, way too seriously.
It’s just that there hasn’t been a lot of Little Jonas left over for Lieutenant Rush. And he has no intention of embarrassing himself with her. He’s already cut back on all the nurses, so that just leaves …
It’s surprising, really, that they haven’t run into each other in his quarters before now. They are both, after all, very regular visitors. She’s on a strict schedule (of her own devising, of course) and he just sort of shows up whenever he wants — amazingly enough, never when she’s there. Jonas wonders sometimes if this is another weird Earth thing. But he thinks it’s probably just another weird Them thing.
And here they are, both of them, both very intently studying the floor. Jonas senses they’re also both about to start sputtering work-related excuses for their presence, and he doesn’t want to hear them. He’s just too tired.
“Look,” he says, “I don’t want to make this awkward or anything. But, uh, we’ve gotta work something out.”
The Major says nothing, but looks up at Jonas with a question clear on her face, her head slightly tilted.
The Colonel shuffles his feet, still staring at the floor, and says, “Jonas, what the hell are you talking about? I’ve got work to do and I’m sure Major Carter has too.”
Jonas can’t resist. “Uh-huh,” he says. “Sure. Lots of work.” But a sharp glance from the Colonel ruins Jonas’ fun and he decides the baiting is not such a good idea after all.
“The thing is,” he says, reflexively holding up his hands in a defensive posture because they could each easily kick his ass. Though, now that he thinks about it, that could be kind of fun … Focus, Jonas! Focus! “The thing is,” he starts again, “You’ve both been fucking me because you can’t fuck each other. And while the sex is great and everything —”
“You’ve been fucking JONAS?” That’d be the Colonel, in a very dangerous, barely controlled tone that makes Jonas wonder if coming to Earth in the first place was a good idea.
“YOU’VE been fucking Jonas?” And that would be Sam, more surprised than anything, blue eyes as wide as Jonas has ever seen them.
They seem to have forgotten he’s there, and the Colonel’s fists are clenching and unclenching at his sides. That can’t be good.
Jonas half-consciously inches behind his desk.
“Well,” he says brightly, “Now that we’ve got that cleared up!” He dares to take a quick look at the Colonel and tries to remember why he doesn’t keep a zat in his quarters. That drawer right there, just beneath his fingers, would be the perfect place … “Uh, like I said, guys, it’s been great and everything, but you’re wearing me out.”
Wearing out Little Jonas more than Big Jonas, but (as the Colonel would say) whatever.
Sam is still staring at the Colonel, but now Jonas is pretty sure she’s trying not to laugh. “Wearing him out? Just how often have you been fucking Jonas, sir?” she says.
O’Neill’s jaw is so tight it barely moves when he speaks. “Carter, I swear —”
“Will you both shut up?”
Amazingly, they do, and turn in unison to look at Jonas. Which, to be honest, is a little nerve-wracking. “Look,” he says quickly, “I have no problem being your sex toy while the two of you sort out … whatever. It’s just … it’s more of a time thing. Twenty-six hours in a day, you know?”
“Twenty-four,” they both say automatically, then briefly look at each other sideways.
Jonas rolls his eyes but otherwise ignores them. “But see, I’ve got the perfect solution!” He stands up straighter, throws his arms out, and puts on what he knows is his most charming grin. “A Jonas sandwich!”
Sam starts doing that fish-mouth thing, and the Colonel looks even more dangerous. He looks downright toxic, actually, as he manages to ask, “A WHAT?”
Sheesh. These Earthlings. Way too seriously.
Jonas sighs a long-suffering sigh.
“Me in the middle, guys,” he explains, somewhat patiently. “It’s not that complicated. You don’t actually have to touch each other, so you won’t actually be breaking any rules, right? And you can think whatever you want, I don’t care. Imagine me away. I just can’t take this twice a night thing anymore. I’m proud to be the base slut, but a guy’s gotta have his priorities.”
When he finally makes himself shut up, Jonas finds that his quarters have gone very quiet … except that Colonel O’Neill is repeatedly kicking at the floor. He’s interested — Jonas can tell he’s interested — but he doesn’t want to be the first to say so. And Sam … Sam’s biting her lip, surreptitiously looking from Jonas to the Colonel and back again.
Finally, she shrugs. “Oh, what the hell,” she says.
And now the Colonel’s even more interested; Jonas just knows Sam’s seen it too. But he also knows, somehow, that she can’t be the one to talk him into it. So he nods her into his bedroom, and she goes, without looking back.
Jonas deserves some sort of commendation for this. Really. So not in his job description.
“You could sign a requisition for some Viagra instead, Colonel,” he says, and follows Sam.
He can’t help but grin when he hears the shuffling footsteps of the taller man behind him. There’s some muttering, too (something like “goddamn overendowed Kelownan bastard”) but Jonas is used to that.
So he can’t help but say, just to himself, “Cool.”
They won’t look at each other afterwards, as all three of them rearrange their uniforms. Earthlings — unbelievable. But Jonas knows whose eyes were open and whose were shut, knows the hands on Sam’s skin were not always his own. He’s not sure why Sam insisted on leaving that tank top on, but the Colonel never takes all his clothes off anyway, and it was pretty hot. The whole thing was pretty damn hot. Jonas has no complaints.
He does, however, have to meet Lieutenant Rush in — he checks his watch quickly — just over an hour. Which means their time is up.
“So, guys,” he says as he not-so-subtly steers them to the door, “Same time tomorrow?”
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