[drabble; sga] pillow
Title: Pillow
Fandom: SGA
Pairing: McShep
Rating: G
Genre: Fluff, pre-slash
Summary: Rodney has had a long day.
Word Count: ~300
Notes: For my SGA Prompt table, 009. Pillow. Unbetaed.
It's been days since Rodney last slept, working overtime on anything and everything that plagued the city (because there was always something). Eventually, the threat had been diverted and now Rodney was free to sleep for a week if he wanted to.
He’s prepared to do just that, too, but his steps halt abruptly when he sees John leaning against the door to his room, the only thing in between him and his bed.
"Colonel," he practically growled out, voice colored with annoyance and exhaustion.
John doesn't respond in words, but Rodney figures the tight circle of John's hand around his wrist is close enough (not that it had been the answer he'd been hoping for, but sometimes with John he just had to learn to take what he got.)
It occurs to Rodney considerably later than it would have if he'd had more than five hours of sleep over the last week that John should also have been exhausted and had (lucky bastard) finished off his duties rather quicker than Rodney had; he should have already been sleeping.
It made a little more sense when they finally reached their destination and John elbowed his way into his own room, hand never leaving it's place on Rodney's wrist, but now he was a lot more confused as to what exactly he was doing here.
His head flooded with half-formed thoughts as John pushed him onto the too soft mattress, stopped by John's next movements, laying with his head on Rodney's stomach and explaining that Teyla had stolen his pillow.
Rodney snorted, but didn't move.
He thought the next morning about how, for a night spent on a painfully soft bed, it hadn't been so bad.
Fandom: SGA
Pairing: McShep
Rating: G
Genre: Fluff, pre-slash
Summary: Rodney has had a long day.
Word Count: ~300
Notes: For my SGA Prompt table, 009. Pillow. Unbetaed.
It's been days since Rodney last slept, working overtime on anything and everything that plagued the city (because there was always something). Eventually, the threat had been diverted and now Rodney was free to sleep for a week if he wanted to.
He’s prepared to do just that, too, but his steps halt abruptly when he sees John leaning against the door to his room, the only thing in between him and his bed.
"Colonel," he practically growled out, voice colored with annoyance and exhaustion.
John doesn't respond in words, but Rodney figures the tight circle of John's hand around his wrist is close enough (not that it had been the answer he'd been hoping for, but sometimes with John he just had to learn to take what he got.)
It occurs to Rodney considerably later than it would have if he'd had more than five hours of sleep over the last week that John should also have been exhausted and had (lucky bastard) finished off his duties rather quicker than Rodney had; he should have already been sleeping.
It made a little more sense when they finally reached their destination and John elbowed his way into his own room, hand never leaving it's place on Rodney's wrist, but now he was a lot more confused as to what exactly he was doing here.
His head flooded with half-formed thoughts as John pushed him onto the too soft mattress, stopped by John's next movements, laying with his head on Rodney's stomach and explaining that Teyla had stolen his pillow.
Rodney snorted, but didn't move.
He thought the next morning about how, for a night spent on a painfully soft bed, it hadn't been so bad.