As Good As It Gets
Summary: John considers his life in Atlantis
Notes: Written for moimoietmoi, off the prompt 'as good as it gets'
The Atlantean bed was far too narrow to sleep them both comfortably, but that just meant they had to keep on touching after sex. John had discovered that cuddling with Rodney had its own rewards - the man emitted body heat like a furnace, rendering John's collection of military issue blankets obsolete. Okay, so the stubble scratched more than the blankets ever had, but that was out-weighed by the simple joy of holding and being held, all through the night, or at least until the next emergency.
The living quarters throughout the city were practically Spartan. There were no shelves of mementos or piles of personal belongings to make a mark. Even here, in John's room, there wasn't any clutter. Two sets of clothing, hastily discarded, barely made a mess. But that just made it easier to pick out the Rodney-esque touches that had accumulated over the last month and a half.
From his prone position on the bed, half covered by his sleeping Rodney blanket, John could see two laptops, three data pads, a scattering of power bar wrappers, and a pair of boxer shorts sporting the legend 'Fuck me! I'm a Genius!'. If he lifted his head, he could see the collection of Ancient artifacts that Rodney had delivered, one by one, as they'd been found. Toys, tools, and gadgets that only John could play with, offered up with gleaming eyes and smug little smiles.
John wondered if the strange, expanding feeling in his chest might be contentment. He'd gone from being alone and on the fringes to being a vital part. He had a lover, a family, a home to protect and explore, a fleet of space ships, and a reason to get up in the morning and play with big guns.
"Yeah. This is as good as it gets."