It must be love, Rodney thinks, because he can't come up with a single, solitary reason that he would have agreed to this idiocy otherwise.
"For god's sake, John," he grumbles as he trudges up the steep incline toward the ruins the rest of the tour group are already exploring. "It's not like we don't scramble up enough goat paths and ruins and backwater villages - though, I have to admit that NOT having to run for our lives is a nice change-"
John is walking backwards in front of him, doubly infuriating since he seems to be nimble enough to avoid all the rocks Rodney keeps tripping over even when he's not looking.
"Rodneeeey," he drawls out with the patented Sheppard whine, and no, just no, Rodney has had it.
"Oh, would you stop! A grown man should NOT be able to whine like that!"
John stops in his path and gives him the eyebrow, the one that speaks volumes more than the man's mouth ever does.
Rodney rolls his eyes with a huff and makes to stomp past him, but John just smirks and gives him a shoulder bump as he falls into step with him. Just as Rodney opens his mouth to start bitching anew, John offers him a power bar. A chocolate one. He stares at it a second.
"Fine," he mutters, snatching it out of John's hand and peeling back the wrapper to wolf it down. It *had* been at least three hours since the group had stopped to eat, and this damn trail really was a work out after all... Chomping on the power bar he says, "but you still owe me. Back rubs. Hot tubs. Possible a back rub in a hot tub. I am out here in the middle of the wilderness when I could be in a hotel, in civilization, with room service and a 50" flat screen TV!"
John leans in close, and the dirty, filthy things that he whispers make Rodney sputter and turn red, right to the tips of his ears. He stumbles to a halt, but John, the bastard, just keeps walking, tossing a jaunty smile over his shoulder as he joins the others at the top of the hill.
Rodney blinks once, twice, then gets a determined look on his face.
"Right then, lets get this show on the road!" he snaps out as he shoulder his pack and double times it up to the ruins. He glares around at the rest of the group like they're holding him up, what with wanting to explore the artifacts and ruins and things they came all this way to look at.
"Hey Rodney!" John calls. "Come look at this," he says, pointing at some dilapidated part of the structure. Rodney just looks at him for a moment - dirty jeans, a raggy jacket, hair even worse than normal, looking for all the world like some vagabond drifter - and is stunned all over again when John turns that smile on him, the special one that is pure mischief and joy, the one he's never seen John give anyone else. He could get lost in that smile.
He takes a deep breath, then makes his way over to where John is, trying to see what could possibly be interesting about a stupid pile of rocks. It must be love, he decides as John leans in and gives him a quick but sweet kiss. He can't think of a single reason he'd be here otherwise. And he's incredibly grateful, because there is nowhere on the planet - nowhere in the galaxy that he would rather be.