"Hey, Stacks, why haven't you been answering your-" Travis started, walking into his friend's quarters. He broke off abruptly, however, when he caught sight of the other Marine, still fast asleep under a mountain of blankets and stray pillows. He seemed to have made a nest of some sort, piling blankets around himself in a seemingly random manner, but maybe they'd all been on top of him to start off with and he'd managed to kick them off during the night. Either way, that wasn't what caused the sudden speechlessness. The cause of that was spooned up behind Stackhouse, an arm draped over his stomach and a leg hooked over the other man's right ankle. There was no mistaking that hair with its seemingly permanent case of bedhead, but all the same Travis had a hard time reconciling the man snuggling with his best friend with the commanding officer of the military contingent.

Despite the fact that the blankets covered their more private bits, Travis could feel a blush creeping up his neck, and he hastily left the room, locking the door behind him. Apparently they'd forgotten to do that last night… it would've saved him a lot of embarrassment if they'd taken the time to make sure the door was locked before they… did whatever they'd done, but hopefully they wouldn't notice the fact that it was locked when it hadn't been before.

He really didn't want to have to talk to his CO about making sure his door was locked.

---

Andrew came to slowly, like usual. He wasn't much of a morning person. Stifling a yawn, he gently extracted himself from John's embrace and padded into the bathroom to answer the call of nature. Having pissed, he went back into the bedroom, nuzzled the Colonel awake, and dragged him into the bathroom for a quick shower before they went their separate ways for the day.

Walking into the mess hall, he got into line, still fumbling with his watchband as he tried to strap it on one-handed. The cooks watched in amusement as he grabbed an apple with his teeth, attention still focused on trying to get the stubborn timepiece to stay put. Finally, he managed it, and grabbed himself a cup of coffee (the good kind) before wandering over to a mostly empty table, flopping into the chair across from Travis with an absent "Morning, Trav."

"Back atcha," the other Marine replied, staring intently at the scrambled eggs on his tray, or what passed for scrambled eggs, at least. They were blue, for one thing, but they tasted all right, and even when burned they weren't half-bad. "Sleep good?"

"Yeah, why?" Andrew asked, eyes narrowing. Travis had never asked him that before, in the three years they'd been friends.

"Um, no reason. In particular. I was just, um, wondering," Travis muttered, eyes fixed firmly on his food. "So, you slept ok, then?"

"Yeah. What's up with you? You're acting kinda weird."

"Me? I'm fine. Good, great even. Well, better than good, at least. They burned the eggs again," he blustered, giving the other man a weak smile. "Seriously, I'm good."

"Ok, what's wrong? You never say you're 'good' unless something's up."

"I'm fine, really. I just, um, I stopped by your quarters this morning, you know, I wanted to see if you were up for a run before breakfast, and, well, you, er. Your door was unlocked, Stacks, I wouldn't have come in if I'd known…" he trailed off, feeling his face burning with mortification.

"You mean you…" the Sergeant started, eyes going wide in horror. "Did you, um?" he tried again, with the same results. Maybe it had something to do with the panicked squeaking going on in his head, but he couldn't seem to get a complete sentence out that made any kind of sense.

"Don't worry, man, I won't tell anybody," Travis reassured him quickly. "Just, you know, be a little more careful. I could've been Kavanagh, or Bates, or Weir, or… well, you get the picture. Are you and him…?"

"Together? Yeah."

"How long?"

"A couple of months now, I think. He's not taking advantage or anything, he's not that kind of guy," he added hastily, just in case the other Marine had jumped to the wrong conclusion. "You're ok with this, right?" he asked, a worried expression settling on his face.

"Course I am, man! You can screw anybody you want to. Hell, you could be fucking McKay and I wouldn't give a damn. I just… don't want you to get in over your head. I got enough on my plate without trying to be your big bro, or whatever. I'm good without the details, though, so just… keep those to yourself, k?"

"Will do, Trav. Thanks, man," Stackhouse said, smiling now.

"What, you think I'd say something? When the guy I'm supposed to be reporting this sort of thing to is the guy you're sleeping with? Even I'm not that much of an idiot."

"Point."