Quota

It's late when John finally crawls into bed. Rodney's already there, taking up more than his usual two-thirds, and John squeezes in behind him and wraps an arm around his waist. It's only out of self-defense, otherwise he'll wake up on the floor, but Rodney's belly is soft and warm under his t-shirt and John can't help giving it a little rub. Rodney stirs, making one of his sleepy questioning noises and rolling over.

"It's just me," John says. It's a dumb thing to say, but he likes the way it sounds, like they can be normal.

Rodney yawns damply against John's shoulder. "Did you finish ferrying the Sauerkrauts to the mainland?"

"The Sowlkind, and yeah, I did, along with their entire herd of milk-spiders." John shudders. The Pegasus Galaxy just keeps finding new ways to creep him out.

"I told you we should have left them there," Rodney mumbles, still less than half awake, lips moving against John's neck. "It was just a small volcano."

"That's what they said about the Titanic," John says, punchy.

Rodney gropes him lazily. "Wanna...?"

"Too tired," John says, running a hand up Rodney's back and stealing his pillow. Rodney doesn't complain, just slips a thigh between John's legs and gives him a sleepy kiss.

"In the morning, then," Rodney says. "I didn't get my orgasm today."

"We'll get you two in the morning," John promises, and falls asleep.