And when they're hanging out, John on his bed reading and Rodney bent over his computer, just in his t-shirt and cargo shorts, arms extended, the desk light falls on the curve of Rodney's arm, and John has to put down his suddenly very boring book, get up, and walk over, and brace his hands on Rodney's shoulders a moment, bending close to breathe him in, closer and closer as his hands slide down, down, fingers pressing into that spot hard enough to make Rodney shiver and sigh.
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