John was having a Bad Day. Capital letters and all. He was pretty sure they'd rooted all the Genii spies out of the city, but he wouldn't be surprised if Kolya had sent some of his crazies to the farthest reaches of the unexplored sections to hide out as Plan B. The cold click of a gun's safety made him freeze.
"Major." Goosebumps rose up on John's skin, the low gravely voice loud in the quiet room. John held up his hands to show he was unarmed. "Drop the bag." John let his bag and tac vest fall to the floor. Several footsteps came closer, and John could make out three distinct treads and a possible fourth.
"Who—oh. Major Sheppard."
"Turn." John pivoted around, coming face-to-face with his assailant. The gun never wavered for a moment, the gunman on guard and not giving John any options. "Your shirt." John slowly drew the black standard-issue SGA shirt over his head, making no sudden movements that might induce his captor to shoot him. The man looked him over, amused.
"Pants now," an impatient voice commanded. The man with the gun grunted in annoyance, but gestured for John to follow the clipped order. His belt buckle clinked in the otherwise silent room. His belt hissed as he drew it through the loops of his pants. The man looked like he was getting ideas about that belt, so John tossed it away and popped the top buttons of his BDUs. He eased the zipper down, tauntingly. The impatient man snapped his fingers and huffed.
"Shut him up," the gunman snapped.
"What? No. I want to want—mmph!" John was distracted by the two women who suddenly had the annoyed man's undivided attention.
"Continue," the gunman ordered lazily. John smirked and teased his BDUs open. He toed off both his shoes and socks, wiggling his newly free toes.
"This little piggy went to market..." he murmured. The gunman pulled back on the top of the gun—the familiar sound sending a shudder up John's spine—to remind John that he had it.
"Got somewhere to be?" John said lazily, letting his pants drop to his ankles. The gunman growled, his eyes roving over John's form.
"Somewhere to be in," the man said huskily. John shuddered again, felt his cock swell within his boxers. A beautiful woman dropped to her knees in front of the gunman, reaching into his soft pants and drawing him into her mouth. John was distracted by the sight for a minute, but then so was his captor. The man's attention was directed down at the gently bobbing head, to the ruby lips wrapped around his girth. John made his move, reaching to disarm the giant man, but found himself on his knees, wrist caught up in an unforgiving grip. The cold metal of the gun pressed against his temple.
"Bad move." The man's free hand tangled in John's crazy hair. He guided John's head to his crotch, the order apparent: suck me or die. John opened his mouth and sucked the tip in, tonguing the broad, sensitive head. He worked his mouth down around the man's length, slowly easing down.
"Oh fuck, he's hot!"
"Rodney," the man growled out. John laughed around Ronon's dick, imagining how put out Teyla and Elizabeth must feel that Rodney wasn't distracted by their combined efforts.
"What?" Rodney whined. "He's blowing Ronon, there's a gun and...oh. OK." John turned slightly to see Rodney on the ground, Teyla making sure his mouth was occupied, Elizabeth finding her own satisfaction further south, and Miko experiencing just what Rodney's fingers were capable of. Ronon grunted and pressed the barrel of the gun pointedly against Sheppard's head. John glared at Ronon, but got back on task.
Everyone paused for a moment when the door opened.
"What'd I miss?" Lorne asked, eagerly shucking out of his jacket.