Rodney's back is warm against John's chest and John snuggles even closer, close enough to rest his chin on Rodney's shoulder so he can feel the gentle rise and fall as he breathes. When John turns his head, just a little, he can see the down-soft tufts of hair at the back of Rodney's neck. They move a little as John breathes and he lifts his head and leans in sideways and kisses him there, short pecks of his lips, feeling the hair tickle his skin.
Rodney murmurs something and John waits for him to waken but he doesn't. He just wriggles a little and flaps a hand aimlessly back in the direction of John's face. John's not sure if this means he should stop or continue so he takes the initiative and kisses the back of Rodney's neck again, gently but more lingeringly this time. Rodney sighs with what sounds like contentment and John smiles against his neck and closes his eyes and goes to sleep, spooned against Rodney's warm back.
It's cold when he wakes and he feels around for the covers, freezing as his hand encounters empty space next to him where Rodney should be. Memory rushes in and he doesn't even look at the other pillow, just rolls to his side and sits up on the side of the bed, dropping his feet to the floor and almost relishing the feel of the cold tile. It's an apt accompaniment to the sudden empty space at his back and the chill in his heart.
'Get over it already' he tells himself harshly but the truth is he doesn't think he can. Doesn't think he even wants to get over losing Rodney. He wonders sometimes if it would be easier if Rodney were dead, instead of living happily somewhere with Jennifer. He should be happy for them, he adds as he gets up and heads into the shower, deliberately ignoring Rodney's bathrobe hanging on the hook on the back of the door where he'd left it the last time he and John spent the night together. The night after they'd returned to Earth, the night he'd told John he thought he should do the right thing by Jennifer. John had wanted to rail at him and ask him why Rodney didn't want to do the right thing by them but he hadn't. He'd just watched Rodney get dressed and leave. The bathrobe's been on the hook on the back of John's bathroom door for six months. He's become skilled at ignoring it now.
Maybe he should go see Carson, get some sleeping pills, ones that will stop him from dreaming. But Carson will ask why he needs them and he'll know what John's not saying and he'll tell him medication's not the answer. John knows it's not. He just wishes he knew what the answer was.