"What do you mean we don't have any Band-Aids? How can we be out of Band-Aids already?"
"McKay, you know very well that we only have limited supplies—"
"Yes, well, I didn't expect a run on paper cuts to completely deplete the first aid kit! What about those of us with actual injuries? Are we just supposed to bleed to death while you improvise a solution?"
"You're hardly at risk of bleeding to death," John replied dryly, barely refraining from rolling his eyes at Rodney's histrionics.
"How would you know? You haven't even looked. I could be minutes away from complete exsanguination!" Rodney had perfected the offended-and-manly-hurting-facial-expression-and-tone-of-voice double whammy. But even knowing he was playing the injury to the hilt, John still felt the tiniest urge to apologize for mocking Rodney's pain.
"Fine, show me your hand." John held his own hand out, palm up.
"So you can scoff at me? I think not." Rodney sniffed and cradled his injured hand protectively to his chest.
"Oh, come on." John put all the exasperation he could muster in his voice.
Rodney narrowed his eyes, and after a moment of intense scrutiny, placed his hand in John's. John held Rodney's gaze a moment longer, then raised Rodney's hand to his mouth, carefully licking the sluggishly bleeding cut at the base of Rodney's thumb.
Rodney snatched his hand back, eyes wide. "That's disgusting. Do you have any idea how many germs live in human saliva?"
"It's not like we haven't exchanged other bodily fluids, Rodney." John grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. "I haven't heard you complaining about my germs before."
Rodney shook his head in exasperation and stepped closer. John's eyes drifted down to focus on Rodney's mouth; Rodney was unsuccessfully trying to stifle a smile. John licked his own lips, then jumped at a loud ripping noise as Rodney opened a pocket on the front of John's vest.
John stood still as Rodney filched a roll of gauze from the field emergency kit and wrapped it clumsily around his injured hand. John shook his head in mock-disgust as Rodney returned the roll of gauze—now half the size it had been—to the pocket and refastened the Velcro with a pat.
"Did you have to use so much? What am I supposed to use next time we're in the field and one of us gets injured, really big leaves?"
"With my luck, you'd grab the Pegasus Galaxy's equivalent of poison ivy."
"Insulting my intelligence is not the best way to ensure you make it to the infirmary without losing your thumb to gangrene."
Rodney just smiled. "You know, I think I have a cut on my lip that could use your attention."
John leaned in and murmured, "You just want more of my gauze. I'm nothing but a walking first aid kit to you, am I?"
"Damned useful one, too," Rodney replied and then kissed him, pushing until John's back hit the wall.
John wrapped his arms around Rodney's waist, pulling him closer until no space remained between them. Rodney's hand loosely grasped the hair at the nape of John's neck and John tilted his head to deepen the kiss, meeting Rodney's tongue with his own. Rodney pressed against him so hard John felt like they'd be stuck together permanently.
Rodney moved back, then leaned back in to drop another quick kiss to John's lips before releasing him to step back, smiling that infuriatingly smug little smile. "Better than a Band-Aid any day."
Grazie to HG for remembering (and suggesting *g*) the Band-Aid jingle when I was searching for a title, and to the rest of the usual suspects (Tiriel, Rose, and Veronica) for, well, their usual brilliance. ;)
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