Ficlet: Happy
Happy by 
sheafrotherdon
~ 262 words of nothing much ♥
John's hands are warm when they settle on Rodney's hips, one bare foot glancing clumsily against the rise of his instep. "Can't sleep?"
"Hmmmm," Rodney offers, and he nods half-heartedly at the view from their window, at the limitless sweep of a darkened ocean, shimmering with the borrowed light of two low moons. He's no real idea what pulled him here, out of their bed and the warm cocoon of their blankets and bodies, but something woke him, something tugged him hard toward this sight.
John rumbles his agreement, presses his nose behind Rodney's ear and exhales, nudges until he can kiss the bare skin high on Rodney's neck. "Okay?"
Rodney shivers, leans back a little more, nods as John slips his fingers beneath Rodney's shirt, tracing drowsy swoops and acrobatic turns over and across his belly. "Yeah."
"Bed, then," John says, stifling a yawn, and kisses that spot again, just behind Rodney's ear. Rodney hums, covering John's errant hand with his own, stilling John's restless fingers, the fabric of his t-shirt wadded up beneath his palm.
"You make me happy," Rodney says suddenly, so softly he's not sure anyone could possibly hear him. But John leans and presses a kiss right where Rodney's shoulder meets the line of his throat, rests there, lips closed and warm, and the fingers at Rodney's hip tighten then relax.
"Bed," John says again after a moment, and he sounds so pleased, Rodney feels his own cheeks begin to pink. He lets himself be bullied back under the covers; there's stillness and belonging in the waiting heat of wrinkled sheets and John's sleep-heavy arms.
sheafrotherdon~ 262 words of nothing much ♥
John's hands are warm when they settle on Rodney's hips, one bare foot glancing clumsily against the rise of his instep. "Can't sleep?"
"Hmmmm," Rodney offers, and he nods half-heartedly at the view from their window, at the limitless sweep of a darkened ocean, shimmering with the borrowed light of two low moons. He's no real idea what pulled him here, out of their bed and the warm cocoon of their blankets and bodies, but something woke him, something tugged him hard toward this sight.
John rumbles his agreement, presses his nose behind Rodney's ear and exhales, nudges until he can kiss the bare skin high on Rodney's neck. "Okay?"
Rodney shivers, leans back a little more, nods as John slips his fingers beneath Rodney's shirt, tracing drowsy swoops and acrobatic turns over and across his belly. "Yeah."
"Bed, then," John says, stifling a yawn, and kisses that spot again, just behind Rodney's ear. Rodney hums, covering John's errant hand with his own, stilling John's restless fingers, the fabric of his t-shirt wadded up beneath his palm.
"You make me happy," Rodney says suddenly, so softly he's not sure anyone could possibly hear him. But John leans and presses a kiss right where Rodney's shoulder meets the line of his throat, rests there, lips closed and warm, and the fingers at Rodney's hip tighten then relax.
"Bed," John says again after a moment, and he sounds so pleased, Rodney feels his own cheeks begin to pink. He lets himself be bullied back under the covers; there's stillness and belonging in the waiting heat of wrinkled sheets and John's sleep-heavy arms.