Good Night Ritual by gottalovev
Title: Good Night Ritual
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 777 (!)
This... this thing with John is getting easier Rodney thinks with satisfaction, as they twist and turn to get comfortable, navigating the dangers of falling down on the floor in an ungraceful heap like pros. The only way they'll fit is spooning, no other name for it, and John has proved to be surprisingly cuddly once naked. At the express condition of being the big spoon, though. Which, Rodney thinks, is ridiculous because John might have a couple of inches of height on him, but Rodney's definitely bigger, so he should get to be the one to... he's always been...
Rodney has to stop before he over thinks or blurts something that will have John make a ridiculous frowny face and turn all insecure. He's still astonished to feel like the emotionally mature part of this... this relationship? Mmm. Definitely a relationship, they've passed convenient, rounded first base on exclusive without even having to discuss it much (a couple of glares aimed at certain bimbos on specific planets sure seemed to have conveyed THAT point) and they're both really careful not to mention feelings, or god forbid use big meaningful words. All is good. Things are not perfect, but they're pretty darn good. Excellent, even.
He still can't believe his luck and Rodney is tempted to shout "Mine! Mineminemine, eat your hearts out, suckers!" at least five times a day, double that off-world. The most surprising is that Rodney sometimes catches the echo of it in John's eyes, or in a possessive grip on his forearm, and how's that for an ego booster? He sighs contentedly and wiggles back, making sure John's plastered against his back as much as possible.
Regular mind blowing sex is awesome, Rodney marvels, still boneless from being fucked into the mattress. He's feeling content, relaxed, and yeah, fantastic. As he always does before falling asleep, John snakes his arm loosely around Rodney's waist and nuzzles a bit at his neck, which always sends a tiny shiver down Rodney's spine.
"'Night, baby." He murmurs with a tiny kiss, voice already half drowsy.
It's like a record scratching to a halt and Rodney holds in his breath, eyes opening wide. Baby? Did John just call him baby? He can feel when John realizes what he just said by the way he's suddenly tense as a bow. Shit. It was probably totally unconscious, but what should Rodney do? Pretend it didn't happen? Would teasing John make him uncomfortable? Maybe a joke, calling John 'cupcake' back, would diffuse the tension? Oh god, and he thought it was getting easier. Way to jinx things, once again.
For sure, Rodney needs to start breathing again soon, especially since John's doing it pretty fast now and it puts his own lack of oxygen in stark contrast. This is so, so ridiculous and the stupid nerves make that when Rodney tries to breathe in, as normal as possible, he just can't and air comes in as a loud snort. Horrified - or, more accurately, on the verge of hysterical laughter - Rodney desperately tries to hold in his breath again. That's when John starts shaking at his back, which is puzzling because come on, shock is a little extreme here for a little four letter word. But Rodney realizes the shaking is because John's laughing and he can't hold it in anymore and starts snickering too.
"Oh. My. God." He wheezes when he can, because wow. That was scary for a moment. "I just would love to see Radek's face if you'd say that in the labs."
John goes from repressed giggling to his out of control laughter and if that's not infectious, nothing is. It take several minutes before they're able to calm down completely, because even if there's a pause of a second or two here and there, one of them start laughing again and off they go. Rodney's belly hurts and he has to brush tears out of his eyes; he just can't wipe the grin off his face. He can also feel the smile in the kiss against his nape when John finally settles again against his back.
"'Night." John says once more, with a second tiny kiss and a hiccupped snort.
Rodney links his fingers with John's and can finally do his part of their little ritual.
"Sweet dreams." Rodney answers. He really should have a medal for the restraint he's showing at the moment at not adding a pet name of his own. Maybe he'll come up with one, eventually. He already thinks 'dork' would be perfect. With a half smile, he closes his eyes and tries to go to sleep.
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 777 (!)
This... this thing with John is getting easier Rodney thinks with satisfaction, as they twist and turn to get comfortable, navigating the dangers of falling down on the floor in an ungraceful heap like pros. The only way they'll fit is spooning, no other name for it, and John has proved to be surprisingly cuddly once naked. At the express condition of being the big spoon, though. Which, Rodney thinks, is ridiculous because John might have a couple of inches of height on him, but Rodney's definitely bigger, so he should get to be the one to... he's always been...
Rodney has to stop before he over thinks or blurts something that will have John make a ridiculous frowny face and turn all insecure. He's still astonished to feel like the emotionally mature part of this... this relationship? Mmm. Definitely a relationship, they've passed convenient, rounded first base on exclusive without even having to discuss it much (a couple of glares aimed at certain bimbos on specific planets sure seemed to have conveyed THAT point) and they're both really careful not to mention feelings, or god forbid use big meaningful words. All is good. Things are not perfect, but they're pretty darn good. Excellent, even.
He still can't believe his luck and Rodney is tempted to shout "Mine! Mineminemine, eat your hearts out, suckers!" at least five times a day, double that off-world. The most surprising is that Rodney sometimes catches the echo of it in John's eyes, or in a possessive grip on his forearm, and how's that for an ego booster? He sighs contentedly and wiggles back, making sure John's plastered against his back as much as possible.
Regular mind blowing sex is awesome, Rodney marvels, still boneless from being fucked into the mattress. He's feeling content, relaxed, and yeah, fantastic. As he always does before falling asleep, John snakes his arm loosely around Rodney's waist and nuzzles a bit at his neck, which always sends a tiny shiver down Rodney's spine.
"'Night, baby." He murmurs with a tiny kiss, voice already half drowsy.
It's like a record scratching to a halt and Rodney holds in his breath, eyes opening wide. Baby? Did John just call him baby? He can feel when John realizes what he just said by the way he's suddenly tense as a bow. Shit. It was probably totally unconscious, but what should Rodney do? Pretend it didn't happen? Would teasing John make him uncomfortable? Maybe a joke, calling John 'cupcake' back, would diffuse the tension? Oh god, and he thought it was getting easier. Way to jinx things, once again.
For sure, Rodney needs to start breathing again soon, especially since John's doing it pretty fast now and it puts his own lack of oxygen in stark contrast. This is so, so ridiculous and the stupid nerves make that when Rodney tries to breathe in, as normal as possible, he just can't and air comes in as a loud snort. Horrified - or, more accurately, on the verge of hysterical laughter - Rodney desperately tries to hold in his breath again. That's when John starts shaking at his back, which is puzzling because come on, shock is a little extreme here for a little four letter word. But Rodney realizes the shaking is because John's laughing and he can't hold it in anymore and starts snickering too.
"Oh. My. God." He wheezes when he can, because wow. That was scary for a moment. "I just would love to see Radek's face if you'd say that in the labs."
John goes from repressed giggling to his out of control laughter and if that's not infectious, nothing is. It take several minutes before they're able to calm down completely, because even if there's a pause of a second or two here and there, one of them start laughing again and off they go. Rodney's belly hurts and he has to brush tears out of his eyes; he just can't wipe the grin off his face. He can also feel the smile in the kiss against his nape when John finally settles again against his back.
"'Night." John says once more, with a second tiny kiss and a hiccupped snort.
Rodney links his fingers with John's and can finally do his part of their little ritual.
"Sweet dreams." Rodney answers. He really should have a medal for the restraint he's showing at the moment at not adding a pet name of his own. Maybe he'll come up with one, eventually. He already thinks 'dork' would be perfect. With a half smile, he closes his eyes and tries to go to sleep.