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“Touch him one more time and I swear...” the words are out of McKay’s mouth before he’s fully finished thinking them - not too surprising considering how he tends to speak his mind, but Sheppard is giving him a strange look.
The... overly friendly... alien princess gives Rodney a rather sour look, but does deign to remove herself from the draped position she’d taken up over Sheppard’s lap, so that’s something.
The look she’s giving Rodney suggests she expects an apology of some kind from him, but he’s hardly about to apologise for being the only one with any sense in the room. He just glares back at her.
With a huff, she spins on her heel, stalking away.
Rodney transfers his gaze to the equally overly friendly prince who has taken the opportunity to move close to Sheppard’s shoulder, hand hovering just above it.
“You, too!” he snaps.
The prince scowls, but also makes his exit.
Sheppard shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “I was fine,” he says.
Rodney snorts. “Please. I’ve seen you less uncomfortable while being tortured.” He picks up one of the little nibbly bits of pastry. No reason to starve himself just because he doesn’t like their hosts.
“What?” he adds, at Sheppard’s look. Then he rolls his eyes. “Oh please, genius here.” He flaps one hand at himself. “Besides, there’s no reason to put up with... that... if you don’t want to.”
“Making nice with our new allies?”
Rodney sputters in offense. “I am nice!” He declares. “I’m extremely nice! I didn’t shoot them or try to cut off their hands or, or... anything!”
Sheppard is grinning. That relaxed grin that goes so perfectly with the way he’s turned his long body into a sprawl - all the previous tension from the unwanted touches gone. Rodney hides his smile behind a scowl. Mission accomplished.
“You know,” Sheppard drawls, “she was pretty insistent that without her I’d be cold.”
Rodney narrows his eyes. “Yes, well,” he snaps, “people should pay less attention to what they think - limited as their ability to do so is - and more attention to what you actually want.”
“What I want, huh?” Sheppard reaches out one hand towards him. Rodney frowns down at it.
“What are you doing now?” he demands.
Then Sheppard’s hand is curling around his, giving a firm tug that sends Rodney stumbling into Sheppard’s lap. He sputters, blinking in confusion, but Sheppard’s laughing that horrible donkey laugh of his so... Rodney shifts, deliberately shoving an elbow into Sheppard’s stomach as he takes the other man’s pastry from the table and bites into it. He may as well get comfortable.