Summary: What really happened when the camera cut away
Notes: Spoilers for 4x04 Doppelganger (including dialogue taken straight from the episode), not mine.
It was over. He'd even thanked Rodney. They could wake up, now. But Rodney was still looking at him like there was something wrong.
"Okay," Rodney said, "this is really weird."
John couldn't exactly argue with that. "You're telling me."
Rodney looked around, taking in his dreamscape with a flick of the eyes. "I thought there would be more . . . hot girls."
Right, well, it wasn't like Rodney was one to talk. "Yeah."
Rodney turned away to look around the empty gateroom again. "Huh."
It was stupid to feel exposed. So his dream took place in the gateroom. So he didn't have any hot girls. Rodney hadn't had any hot girls, either. "Rodney." Oh, crap. Wait. Rodney hadn't had any hot girls either.
Rodney's head snapped back toward him, and somehow they were standing close, only inches between them. God, right, they were still in a dream. "Rodney," John said again, and his voice sounded low and breathy and downright weird.
Rodney's eyes were wide. "We could, um, really wake up now."
"You want to?"
"Not really, no."
They were still in a dream. That was the only explanation, because he'd sworn he wouldn't do this. He'd made a spreadsheet of the reasons not to. But somehow they were doing it. They were kissing, kissing hard, Rodney's lips hot and eager against his, Rodney's arms wrapped tight around him. And oh, God, it was better than he'd imagined—sweet, sweet slide of lips against lips—but damn it, this was still a dream. It couldn't be real, because if it was . . .
John pulled back and leaned his forehead against Rodney's. That kind of sounded like the real Rodney. And Rodney had said it was him him. Hell, John had believed him, up until the kissing part. Because, yes, okay, there hadn't been any hot girls in Rodney's dream, but there had also been rain and a clown and a carnivorous whale, so not a lot of wish fulfillment going on, there. But if this was Rodney, the real Rodney, then he'd just . . .
"Crap," John said, and woke up.
Rodney was on the bed next to his. Alive. Awake. And looking at him. And then Rodney's hand reached out toward him—just the barest hint of a gesture—before falling back at his side, but John knew what it meant.
Rodney remembered. It was a dream, but it had been real enough. Which meant he'd just actually kissed Rodney, and Rodney . . . hadn't seemed to mind.
John closed his eyes and listened to the beep of the monitors, the ones that said his heart rate was going up rather than down right now.
Right. Well. So much for the damn spreadsheet.