Although linabean believes her own lack of sexy smooching with John Sheppard in dreams stems directly from the way she's "convinced that John needs it in the ass", my own deeply held belief in John's basic gayness has been shaken recently, as both sheafrotherdon and siriaeve have produced persuasive evidence that, despite a hideous and intrusive soundtrack, some vaguely terrifying make-up choices in the grooming of the female lead and unforgivably cloying dialogue, Joe can be convincingly het in the right context. This context, for example, and this one and this one. In addition, as reading these stories goes to show, this convincing illusion of heterosexuality is not mutually exclusive with John needing it in the ass.

Observations on Joe's appearance in Cupid:

I will admit that the bed scenes are surprisingly sexy. You really get the impression that she's reaching down under the covers and perking him up. And while her extra-plucked eyebrows and careful, careful lipstick bug me, the actress who plays Claire is cute overall. The Joe Flanigan of this era is a triumph of both manscaping and golden man-tan, and his arms... make me weak in the knees. Plus, as you all know, Joe's voice is made for lazy, fucked-out pillow talk, so I found it all very... Oh, shut up, I found it hot, okay? Also, at one point he wears a black turtleneck, which is like kryptonite for me. I have no defense against it.

Likely as a direct result of this exposure to a reasonably hettified John-model, I had two John-centric dreams in the last week, and while they are not at all explicit, I should tell you that I, personally, found them mind-bendingly hot.

Moving on to Exhibit A:

I dreamt I was Rodney, only younger. Skinnier and blondish, with almost mullety hair. The room was very sunny and I had cargo pants on. I was relaxing on a hardwood floor, parallel to the light-colored wall and leaning back on my hands with my legs straight out in front of me with my ankles relaxed. John Sheppard, younger, in his black uniform and looking slinky as all get out, walked up and gave me a lazy grin, leaned his back against the wall and slid down so that he ended up on the floor with his knees tented over my hips. We were both perfectly clothed and not even touching; just very very close to it, and man, it was... Yeah.

Exhibit B:

This morning, I woke up from the most startling and amazingly physically present dream-kiss... ever.

We were traveling performers of some kind. I have no real idea of the time or place setting, just some random furture-where, not even necessarily Earth, and John and I have known each other for ages, and we spend the whole dream being smirky jerks to each other, teasing and razzing and just generally being pains in the ass, and all the time I'm thinking "God, I am so totally attracted to him, damn it! I can't believe I'm attracted to such a dick!"

And really, he's not actually a dick (well, not anymore than he is in canon, anyway) he's just being annoying and stubborn on purpose and TEASING ME ALL THE TIME. So, he has to go do this thing at 5:30, and it's everyone's least favorite assignment because it's this private audience with this rich, snotty old lady that everyone hates because she picks the costumes.

So he has to wear this sort of white leather jumpsuit, right? Only, it's not anywhere near as tacky as that sounds. It's not like a workman's coverall, and it's not like an Elvis stage outfit, it's actually basically an elegant tuxedo thing: white leather pants and a sort of bib that ties around the back of your neck and a starched, pressed shirt, all 40s lines and cleverly tailored. The leather is fine-grained and buttery soft, and really thin, nothing at all like upholstery to touch, but naturally I make fun of him anwyay.

He's abashed and clearly feeling dorky but he smirks anyway and he crowds me back against a handy desk and he picks me up (no small feat, I will point out, and in the dream I was like DUDE HE IS PICKING ME UP I DIE OF SWOON), and sets me on the desk and then climbs on the desk to straddle me and he holds my head to kiss me--and I always thought that looked stupid, but man, it worked for me, my head held in his hands so he could tilt me just so and then the kiss! Dizzy, giddy perfection, the first kiss, just.... warm (um. okay. hot.), firm, lips slightly parted and then I just dab his tongue with mine, just a touch and THEN... Well, we shall draw a veil over the rest, and I trust I can leave that to your fertile imaginations, but I so totally whimpered (twice. shut up.) and then I pulled away and was all, "You're gonna miss your 5:30."

Man, I need to get laid.