Sleepy kissing
My own incoherent offering. I just couldn't resist the mental image.
Rodney falls into bed some time around two-thirty in the morning, ineffectively trying to burrow underneath the blanket. John's eyes feel gritty as he blinks blearily at his lover, then he tugs meaningfully at the cover until Rodney rolls over with a huff and a grunt, already mostly asleep by the time John has him safely tucked in. There's no way in hell that John will be able to rouse him again enough to get undressed, so he just sighs as he pulls Rodney closer, slides a bare leg between Rodney's clothed ones. He's just glad that at least Rodney kicked his boots off before collapsing on the mattress.
Rodney mumbles something unintelligible against John's neck, the words lost in the slow drag of lips over skin. His leg twitches under John's as he sinks deeper into sleep, his warm body heavy and familiar in John's arms. John can feel it too, the seductive pull of quiescence, of peace, of rest, and he gives in to it without a thought, drowsily pressing his lips to the crown of Rodney's head as he lets himself fall under.
Then the room is still, the night quietly alive with the faint sound of slow, steady breathing.
Rodney falls into bed some time around two-thirty in the morning, ineffectively trying to burrow underneath the blanket. John's eyes feel gritty as he blinks blearily at his lover, then he tugs meaningfully at the cover until Rodney rolls over with a huff and a grunt, already mostly asleep by the time John has him safely tucked in. There's no way in hell that John will be able to rouse him again enough to get undressed, so he just sighs as he pulls Rodney closer, slides a bare leg between Rodney's clothed ones. He's just glad that at least Rodney kicked his boots off before collapsing on the mattress.
Rodney mumbles something unintelligible against John's neck, the words lost in the slow drag of lips over skin. His leg twitches under John's as he sinks deeper into sleep, his warm body heavy and familiar in John's arms. John can feel it too, the seductive pull of quiescence, of peace, of rest, and he gives in to it without a thought, drowsily pressing his lips to the crown of Rodney's head as he lets himself fall under.
Then the room is still, the night quietly alive with the faint sound of slow, steady breathing.