The first time Rodney wakes up to the feeling of John sliding into his bed in the middle of the night, he jumps.

The second time, he just rolls his eyes and opens his arms, letting John steal his warmth in the air-conditioned chill of the house.

After the third time, he gives John a key and tells him to quit breaking in.

Rodney shares his coffee in the morning, and he waits on the beach until John finishes surfing so he can get a kiss before John goes on duty. He even saves John the last bit of coffee in his huge insulated mug.

He fixes the ragged tear in John's convertible's top. He happily accepts the enthusiastic blowjob that John considers fair payment.

He doesn't complain when John tracks sand into the dining room.

He explains the differences between the various subspecies of algae and pretends not to notice when John blinks sleepily at him.

He notices that John completely ignores all the women that come on to him, but that his eyes light up when Rodney wanders down to the beach sometimes in the afternoon.

He points out gross inaccuracies in John's textbooks, but won't do the math for him.

He thinks waking up with a warm, sleepy John at his side could be addictive.

Yep, must be love.