John always falls asleep right afterwards, his head either buried in the pillow or against Dorian's shoulder, and tonight is no different. He rolls over as soon as Dorian moves to lie down beside him, pressing his face into Dorian's shoulder and inhaling deep. His hand touches Dorian's side, then hesitates, and Dorian grasps his wrist, pulling John's arm over his own waist the way he knows the man likes.
"Goodnight," John mumbles, tucking his face down against Dorian's bicep.
Dorian waits a few seconds for John's breathing to settle, his arm growing heavy over Dorian's midsection, before turning carefully onto his side. He's more or less face to face with John now, gazing down at where John's messy hair is tousled over his forehead.
John grumbles incoherently, half-asleep already, and he tries to mush his forehead into Dorian's chest. Dorian catches the side of his face with his hand, tips it up so he can inspect it, and John squints up at him blearily. "Wha...wha's wrong?"
"Nothing," Dorian assures him. He pulls gently at the skin under John's left eye with his thumb, smooths over a fading bruise on his cheek left over from a raid the week before. "Just looking."
"Sap," John mutters, but he opens both eyes, eyebrows drawing down in a slight frown that Dorian knows by now is more reflex than any emotional reaction. "You were looking plenty earlier."
Dorian grins and doesn't deny it. John's eyes hold more green in the half-light, one side of his face in shadow as he meets Dorian's searching gaze. His cheek is rough with stubble, and Dorian runs his hand over it fondly, liking the texture against his palm.
"Happy now?" John blinks and tightens his arm around Dorian's waist. "I'm tired."
"Not yet." Dorian rakes his fingers lightly through the short hair on the side of John's head, lingering at the graying strands at his temple, and drops his hand down to the side of his neck, pressing against the red mark he made there just minutes ago. There's the slightest imprint of his teeth on the outer edges of the mark, and John shivers a little as Dorian traces around it.
"All right, you've had your fun." John hooks his knee over Dorian's leg, pulling himself on top of the android with a grunt. "Now I'm awake," he adds grumpily, sliding his hands up along Dorian's sides. "How do you plan to apologize, huh?"
"Mmm." Dorian tilts his head thoughtfully, then leans up and kisses him. John makes a muffled complaint, but he follows Dorian down when he lowers his head back to the pillow, kissing back with the same impatience he displays in the field.
Dorian slows deliberately, opening his mouth against John's insistent tongue and pulling back enough for John to utter a frustrated noise and chase after him again. Dorian takes the opportunity to sneak his own hands down John's body, sliding past the small of John's back and grabbing his ass, lifting his own thigh to press against John's groin questioningly.
"Good idea," John gasps, his head falling to Dorian's shoulder. John's skin still tastes of sweat, Dorian thinks absently, turning his head slightly to press another kiss to John's neck, just beside the warm silver chain. Sharp and hot and alive. Dorian nuzzles at the underside of John's throat until the man raises his head again, his face flushed and his eyes bright.
"Dorian," John says hoarsely, and Dorian grinds his leg upwards again, watches John's eyes flutter shut and struggle open again. He can do this all night, he reflects, feeling John stir against him in growing interest.
And so he does.