A Puzzlement

by The Grrrl

Title: A Puzzlement

Author: The Grrrl

Author's email: thegrrrl2002@gmail.com

Author's URL: http://thegrrrl2002.slashcity.org/

Archive: Ask first.

Fandom: Stargate Atlantis

Pairing: Sheppard/McKay

Summary: Rodney is tired and can't quite figure out why John is in his bed.

Rodney stumbles back to his quarters, exhausted and over-caffeinated and totally wired and still seeing code scrolling before his eyes. It's been a long frustrating day and an even longer, more frustrating evening. With a brusque wave of his hand he turns on his lights, then stops in mid-stride and stares in disbelief.

There's a lump in his bed. A large, John Sheppard-shaped lump.

Rodney tiptoes up to the bed and peers down. Yes, it's John tucked under his covers, eyes closed, face smooshed into the pillow, lashes dark against his cheek.

"Oh," Rodney says, curious. "Hi."

He's whispering, afraid to wake John, who for some reason, is in his bed. Sure, they do things together in bed, as often as possible, but the key word there is "together" and tonight's plans had been cancelled. John knew that, too. John had been peering over his shoulder while Rodney complained about faulty ancient programming--he had better things to do with his time, thank you very much--while John sniggered and patted his shoulder and said "tough luck, buddy" before sauntering off to do whatever it was that Lieutenant Colonels did when they weren't on duty or getting naked with...with the person they got naked with.

Rodney blinks at his John-filled bed, rubs his eyes, then blinks some more. "Hmm," he finally says, nodding his head. It's weird, but he's tired and very much done with the day and also done with figuring things out. He just wants to sleep. Plus John isn't exactly in conversation mode. Not that he ever is. Which is fine, just fine with Rodney. He's not in it for the talking anyway.

Stripping down to his underwear as quietly as possible, Rodney turns off the lights and slips into bed. His warm bed. His warm, Sheppardy bed.

It's nice. Strange, but nice.

He eases closer to John. After all, John is in his bed, so it's entirely in his rights to press his body against John's even though John is sleeping and it might kind of be an invasion of John's personal space. Maybe John had gotten confused, thinking this was his own bed. After all, their rooms are directly across from one another's. Maybe he had too many beers with Ronon.

Because the thing is, while they sleep together, they don't ever really sleep together.

Rodney leans in and sniffs. No smell of beer. Just clean, warm John.

With a shrug, Rodney settles in, too tired to puzzle it out. He slides close to John's body, determined to take full advantage of John's body heat.

John stirs, murmuring something that might be Rodney's name. Rodney holds his breath, hand resting on John's hip.

John is naked.

Rodney removes his hand, then, after a moment's contemplation, replaces it.

A slow intake of breath. "Rodney," John slurs, stretching the word out.

"It's my bed," Rodney points out.

With a slow unwinding of limbs John rolls to face him, snuggling closer. He noses Rodney's cheek, presses his lips to Rodney's neck and chin and eventually makes his way to Rodney's mouth, catching the corner of it with a sloppy kiss.

"Oh," Rodney says, feeling foolish. "Oh."

He pulls John in, sliding his hand down over John's hip and back up again, over John's chest, so much warm hairy skin. It's ridiculously soothing to touch and stroke and when he finally gets his lips properly over John's wayward mouth for a warm, sweet kiss, the last bit of tension drains from his body.

"In my bed." Rodney's lips brush against John's cheek. "You."

"Uh huh." Another kiss as John wriggles closer, forcing Rodney onto his back.

Rodney wraps his arms around John's waist and John stretches a lazily, thorough stretch and by time he finishes he's draped over Rodney, a leg tucked between Rodney's legs, his face pressed against Rodney neck, bristly chin digging into Rodney's shoulder.

"Nice, with the insinuating," Rodney says, but he's grinning as John's tufty hair tickles his chin.

A low chuckle. "Thought you might want to fool 'round," John says, sliding a hand down to squeeze Rodney's hip. "Bad day 'n all."

It takes a moment for Rodney to parse the muffled words. "Oh," he says, touched. He tightens his hold on John's pliant, sleepy body. "That's--that's really nice."

"'s me." John snuffles Rodney's skin. "Nice."

Rubbing John's back, Rodney nods, marveling over John's thoughtfulness. Sex. John wanted to make sure he had sex, just to make his day better. It really was very sweet. Like something a--a boyfriend would do.

"Hey," Rodney whispers as John's breathing turns steady.

"Uh?" John raises his head and in the pale moonlight Rodney sees sleepy eyes and endearingly bemused expression.

"I'm feeling a bit wiped out here," Rodney says cautiously. "Maybe we can save it until morning?" Even though by morning, John is usually long gone.

John's forehead crinkles. "You sure?"

"Yes." Rodney reaches up to kiss John's perplexed mouth. "Go back to sleep."

John nods. "'kay." His head drops back down and he settles in. "Sex. Morning. Be here." He pats Rodney's chest.

"Where else would I go?" And Rodney's grinning again, "It's my bed."

It's his bed and John is in it.

Some things aren't that hard to figure out, after all.

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