Work Text:
John kisses Rodney, sliding a hand under the t-shirt he sleeps in, when he hears the door to the bedroom open.
“I thought we locked the door” he says, giving Rodney a look.
“He has your gene. Do you really think a locked door is going to stop him?” Rodney retorts.
John sighs. “I swear he's doing on purpose. Every time he try and do something...”
The rest of John's statement is cut off by their three year old son launching himself onto the bed and wiggling over the covers. “Snuggles, Papa?”
John tries to hide his wounded expression as Josh cuddles up to Rodney.
“Do you really blame him for wanting to snuggle against a soft t-shirt as opposed to that fur on your chest,” Rodney whispers.
John glares at him for half a second and vows to start wearing shirts to bed.