"Oh, god. So tired," John said, stumbling to the bed. Rodney was already there, waiting.

"Waited for you," Rodney mumbled.

"I know," John said, stripping and leaving his clothes on the floor. "There were things."

"Yeah," Rodney said, moving over and gathering John up as he slithered onto the bed, pressing their naked bodies together. Rodney's cock was hard. Being close to a naked John - thinking about a naked John - did that to him. John had scratchy hair on his thighs and soft, springy hair on his chest, and sandpapery stubble on his neck. It was John's texture that always worked for Rodney. John was soft skin and hard muscle, rough face and slick tongue; he had pokey hair and the back of his neck was smooth. His cock was soft against Rodney's hip, and his feet were ice-cold.

"Wanted you to fuck me," Rodney said. "Wanted you in me."

"Uh," John said to Rodney's neck, but his cock twitched against Rodney's thigh.

"Too tired?" Rodney tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice. He was aching to feel John in him, John's hard cock stretching him open, pushing into him, filling him up.

"Uh," John said again. His voice was slurred and thick, but his cock was hardening even more as Rodney scratched his nails gently over John's scalp.

"It's okay," Rodney said. "I know it's been a hell of a day." He pulled John in close and petted the back of his neck. Goddamnit, he hated having to be sensitive. He wanted to get fucked. He wanted John powering into him, his hips snapping, his sweaty hair dripping onto Rodney's back, John making those little involuntary moaning noises that he couldn't contain when he was close to coming.

Rodney rolled to John onto his back. John went, his arms and legs splayed in a boneless sprawl. His cock was hard, though -- at least one part of him was awake. Rodney cupped John's balls in one hand and rubbed his thumb against the base of John's dick.

"Oh," John said quietly, the word drawn out over a slow exhalation.

"You don't have to do anything," Rodney whispered urgently. "Just let me, okay?"

John rolled his head on the pillow. "K," he said, his voice indistinct. Rodney kissed John's temple lightly, then reached across for the lube. He'd stretched himself earlier - only a little, though, not enough to cheat him out of the sensations he wanted.

Rodney fingered himself, getting his ass wet and slippery before warming some lube in his hands. A cold shock on his dick would surely wake John, and not in a pleasant way. Rodney straddled John and used the body-warm lube to slick him up.

John's eyelashes fluttered when Rodney started taking him in, but his eyes didn't open. Rodney eased himself down, moaning as his ass opened slowly around John's cock.

"Oh," John slurred again, and he lifted one lax hand to rest soft and hot against Rodney thigh - just lying there, not gripping or moving.

Rodney tried to keep quiet as he fucked himself on John, forgetting about the rough hard fuck he'd wanted earlier. This was better. John was so beautiful under him, his face easy and unlined in his relaxed state, his throat exposed as he rolled his face to one side.

"You're gorgeous," Rodney said in a whisper, knowing it was unlikely that the words would penetrate John's foggy mind. "Just being close to you makes me hard. God, the way you smell."

Rodney took some of his weight onto his hands, being certain to keep John's cock in him. Leaning forward changed the angle, and Rodney suppressed the loud noise he wanted to make when John's cock nudged his prostate on each slow stroke.

Rodney kept on whispering; it was as though once the word started spilling out he couldn't stop them. "You make me stupid -- it's kind of traumatizing, actually -- but you slink into the lab and I lose my goddamn mind." Rodney pushed himself back, taking John deep. "You make me do things I never thought I'd do. You make me fuck you in supply closet and let me blow you in the jumper. You've turned me into some kind of adrenaline junkie."

Rodney stopped talking so he could brace himself on one hand over John and bring his other hand to his cock. Rodney rocked his hips back onto John's cock, then forward into his own fist. "But it's not the adrenaline," Rodney moaned. "It's just you." Rodney gasped and moaned quietly and came over his own fingers and onto John's chest. He didn't stop stroking his cock until he got too sensitive to carry on.

Rodney pulled off up and off John's dick and climbed over to one side. John's hand slipped off of Rodney's thigh and dropped to the bed. John's eyelashes fluttered again and he made a soft, pained noise.

"I've got you," Rodney said. He leaned down and grabbed his boxers to wipe both of their bellies. He rolled John onto his side and tucked the boxers under his hip before sliding his hand around John's ribs.

When Rodney touched his cock, John automatically pushed forward. Rodney started a slow rhythm of gentle squeezes and light strokes. Soon, John was making a quiet, slurred version of his "I'm close" noises.

"Come on," Rodney whispered, "come on." And John rolled his hips and came. Rodney kissed the back of John's neck and gentled him through his orgasm, then cleaned him up with the already-stained boxers. Rodney threw the shorts onto the floor. He pulled John to him so they were sealed back to chest and rested one hand on John's belly.

John breathed softly, his soft hairy skin rubbing against the callused fingers and smooth palm of Rodney's hand. Rodney matched his breathing to John's and fell softly into sleep.