Supposedly, he’d been trained for everything. He could kill a Jackal with his bare hands and disassemble and reassemble a SPNKR. He could even manage a drop pod crash without shrieking like a little girl.

So why the fuck didn’t they train him about what to do if Spartans asked for a threesome?

Really, he liked Two and Jorge well enough, in that sort of ‘my weird uncle and aunt’ way, and he had been flabbergasted enough by the request that he’d just blurted out an agreement. Then it was to trying to work out the logistics… and seeing the lone doctor on the ship. Confidentiality was… such a wonderful thing. Wait, do alien doctors still go by that?
… Dammit.

Rookie did not consider what, precisely, he had gotten into until Two announced the pair were in the mood for a Rookie sandwich, and he saw what Jorge was keeping under his armor.

Rookie was not able to walk straight for a week.