John wakes up in a strange bed - comfortable, but not his - and the light coming through a crack in the curtains is all wrong. Also, there's a guy there. Rodney McKay, culinary prima donna, kitchen wizard, and the best kisser John's ever encountered, is sleeping by his side.

It's been a long time since John woke up with someone else in the bed, and he likes it. He's missed it. For all that he's a solitary creature, John likes having someone there, having a warm, heavy body beside him that he can lean against when he needs a grounding touch. For far too long he's woken up alone at two in the morning and stared at the ceiling before giving up and going to the darkroom until he's exhausted enough to go back to sleep.

But, it's morning. It's morning, and Rodney's there with his face smashed into the pillow. Rodney's hand is curled between them, situated so that the backs of his knuckles just graze the skin of John's upper arm, and it's a little spot of heat and sensation. He likes it.

Rodney McKay is loud and blustery, demanding and brilliant, and, unexpectedly kind. John stretches, feeling every muscle creak happily. Rodney, he decides, is something special. Rodney deserves a bagel.