John tried to push the girl back gently, but she was heavier than she looked. She was also very determined to get her grabby hands on Ronon's ass. "Back off, dude," she said. "I'm Ronon's biggest fan! He wants to see me!"

John looked up at Ronon, who looked a little scared. Ah, so this was the fan who'd been stalking the tour across three continents.

"Rodney!" John barked.

Rodney wandered over, drinking from the can he was carrying. "Here," he said to the roadie who was trying to help John fend off the crazed fan. "Hold my pop."

The roadie did as he was told, and Rodney bulled his way past him to stand behind John, shoring him up and - incidentally, of course - smashing them close enough together that Rodney could push his hips forward to feel John's ass against him.

The fan pushed forward and they held her back, Rodney finding his balance and turning into the original immovable object.

John oofed. "What are you, stuck in the 50s? It's a Coke."

"Is not," Rodney said. "The can clearly says Dr. Pepper, and Dr. Pepper is a pop. Soda pop, if you want to be anal retentive about it."

The fan pushed, but couldn't get past the solid wall of Rodney, with John in the middle as the unfortunate padding for both of them.

John took an elbow to the ribs. "'S a Coke," he said. "If it's cold and it's in a can, and it isn't a beer, it's a Coke."

Rodney ground his hips against John. "It's a good thing you can do that thing with your tongue," he said. "Otherwise I'd have you deported back to the South."

"Get this chick off me and I'll do the thing with my fingers in your ass while I'm doing that thing with my tongue."

"One finger or two?" Rodney asked, grinding again, this time with a harder cock.

"Jesus," John said. "I'm getting squished here. How about two fingers in my own ass and the thing with my tongue?"

"Video?" Rodney gave another sharp push, snugging his now-fully hard cock against the ass in question.

"Video," John squeaked.

Rodney looked at the fan, who was still trying to climb over John. "He's in the limo, okay? Fun time is over." She immediately stepped back, and Rodney caught John as he began to slide to the floor. "Video, right?" he said.

John sucked in several deep breaths, rubbing one hand over his sore ribs. "But no YouTube, Rodney. Not again."

In many parts of the American South, any non-alcoholic cold beverage is referred to as a "Coke." Coca-Cola is based in Atlanta, and many times growing up I heard someone ask for a Coke, regardless of the available types/brands of soda. Or pop. Though personally, I feel that "pop" is silly.