Rodney dug the heel of his shoe into John's foot, not caring if he hurt his lover because really, the middle of a briefing was the not the right place for a nap.
Especially not if John Sheppard was going to be talking in his sleep.
"OW!" Eyes flying open, the Major glared at Rodney and prepared to tear into the man when John heard the snickers around him, "Oh, damnit. I did it again." He muttered.
"Oh you did more than that." Rodney returned the look, lips pursed and looking quite pissed.
Sheppard looked around himself, "What? I know I don't snore..."
"You snore. Quite loudly. I hear it every night." Rodney hissed, "And you know what you just did, you overgrown walking hormone?"
John knew he'd never get a reply in and didn't try.
"You just outted us!"
"Oh? Okay." The military man looked over at Ford, who was trying like hell to keep the shock off his face and was failing miserably, then at Beckett who was shaking with the effort to not laugh hysterically.
Rodney's eyes grew huge and almost seemed to bug out of his head like one of the characters from Who Framed Roger Rabbit, "You're sleeping on the couch tonight." Then stood and began to stalk away.
He was through the door before the clueless John turned to his colleagues, all nearly on the floor, "What'd I do?"
"Well, sir, you just won me the current betting pool." Aiden responded, curbing his chuckles and continuing, "We all figure out about you and McKay weeks ago. We made peace with that."
John's eyebrows furrowed, "How does that make you win the pool?"
"We bet on what nickname you'd call him."
A look of utmost horror came over Sheppard's face. He couldn't have, no way. He would never let that name slip...
"Thanks for helping me win, sir, but I can honestly admit hearing you say 'Harder! More! Oh, god, fuck me Muffin!' was not the way I wanted to find out."
John would later try to convince everyone he had passed out from fear, not fainted from stress.