SGA fic: Dance Lesson (nc-17), Ronon/Weir PWP
Oh. My. God. You people made me write porn as my first SGA fic. O_o Okay, maybe it wasn't you specifically, so much as medie's porn battle, but still. :P
Title: Dance Lesson
Rating: nc-17
Word count: 825, or at least it was, before some people (you know who you are) goaded me into writing more, so now it's more like 1,300, give or take a few
Characters/Pairings: Ronon/Weir
Spoilers: Are you kidding? There's not even a plot!
Disclaimer: they don't belong to me, yadda yadda.
Author's note: It's just a teeny thing that seems to have gone over the limit of 4,300 characters by just a little, so if you were to read this on the porn battle, you won't find the only actual plotty elements there 'cause I had to cut them to make it fit into comments. The prompt was Ronon/Weir and dancing. Unbetaed but spellchecked, so hopefully it doesn't suck too much. And there is now more pr0n, unbetaed, so if you see any glaring errors or impossibilities, please let me know. *snerk*
“No, no, you put your arms around me, like this,” Elizabeth said and proceeded to demonstrate, taking Ronon’s hands and guiding them around her waist. She was unprepared for the shock of it, touching his bare skin for the first time. It was as though a jolt of electricity shot through her, straight from her fingertips to her groin, and she swallowed hard to prevent a gasp - or something more damning - from escaping her lips.
At first, she thought that Ronon hadn’t noticed. She looked up at him, saw that dark gaze on her mouth, intense and unwavering, and her heart skipped a beat. He licked his lips and his arms tightened around her, pulling her body flush with his.
“We never called this ‘dancing,’” he whispered, his eyes finally lifting from her mouth to look her in the eyes. His breath was warm against her cheek and Elizabeth felt a flush rise from the vicinity of her collarbones. Her eyelids fluttered for half a second before she got them under control. This is ridiculous. Either I push him back in line and teach him to dance, or…
Elizabeth lifted her arms to circle around Ronon’s shoulders, crossed them behind his neck, pulled his head down closer to hers, his mouth closer to hers. Now it was her turn to stare at his mouth and suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to turn the tables and make him react to her. A mischievous smile played at the corners of her lips as her eyes met his again and she lightly ran the tip of her tongue across his lower lip.
Elizabeth’s smile widened at the same rate as Ronon’s eyes. She felt his heart beat faster against her breasts, heard the catch in his breath as he inhaled. “There’s dancing,” she whispered in his ear, “and then there’s dancing.” She caught the lobe lightly in her teeth.
It was like throwing gasoline onto an open flame. Ronon’s hands cupped her ass and he ground his hips against hers, the hard ridge of his cock making her want to peel those tight leather trousers off him, even as he covered her mouth with his. Elizabeth opened her mouth for him, took his tongue in before pushing past it, pushing her tongue into his mouth. He tasted good, tasted sweet and smoky and a little like whatever alcohol he and Sheppard had been drinking when the two men had made their bet.
“You have got to be kidding,” John had said to Ronon, his voice dripping with scorn. “Sure you’ve got good moves in a knife fight, but dancing? You? Not even Elizabeth could teach you to Tango, Dex.”
Ronon backed away from her, just slightly, and Elizabeth shivered from the chill, but then his mouth was at the base of her throat, his tongue licking the little hollow there while his fingers unbuckled her belt with quick, sure movements. She slipped her hands under his loose shirt, splayed them out over his smooth skin, felt the muscles beneath.
“Bet she can,” Ronon had shot back, a smug grin on his handsome face.
“How much?” Sheppard lifted his glass, pretending to study the liquid within.
Ronon had at least had the decency to turn to her, eyebrows raised in a question. Standing in the doorway, arms across her chest, she had shrugged and he’d turned back to John. “I win, you have to be nice to McKay for a week.”
Nice. Nice… Oh, God, his hands felt nice on her hips, sliding beneath her underwear, skimming it over her skin along with her trousers. Nipping at his jaw, she fumbled with the ties to his shirt and finally gave up, grabbed the hem and lifted it even as he dropped down to his knees, pushed her clothes down with him and then lifted his arms so she could pull off his shirt. As soon as the cloth was out of the way, he traced a path from one hip to the other with his tongue, punctuating the slow licking with his teeth. Elizabeth moaned.
“What if I win?” The prospect of being nice to Rodney for a solid week appeared to have John a bit rattled.
“You won’t.”
Elizabeth’s knees buckled as Ronon’s tongue dipped lower, slipped inside her as his fingers tightened on her thighs. She caught herself on his broad shoulders and he pulled away - “No! Don’t stop!” - but he only lowered her to the floor.
She pushed up onto her elbows and watched as he peeled away the leather, just as she’d imagined a few moments before. Watching her watching him undress, Ronon smiled, sweet and arrogant. “Take off your shirt.” His voice rumbled through her like a physical touch.
“We’ll have another kind of dancing lesson later…” she told him as she did as he’d asked. Even if she couldn’t teach him to Tango, Elizabeth would come out the winner in this bet. The prospect was almost as exhilarating as the sight of Ronon Dex, standing naked just a short space from her. Almost.
Her arms tangled in her shirt and bra. Looking at him, she forgot to breathe. But then he took one long step toward her, stood looking down at her, stood between her legs, that sweet-arrogant smile grown wider. "If all your... dance lessons are like this..." Elizabeth found she could move agin, finally succeeded in freeing her wrists, reached one hand up to Ronon. He took it and allowed her to pull him down, but he stopped his descent and instead leaned back, kept hold of her hand, pulled her along with him until she knelt before him, face to face. She felt his warm breath on her face; his dark eyes seemed to shimmer from the heat between them. All she would have to do to feel his mouth on hers again, to taste him again, was lean into him that last inch or so...
Elizabeth leaned. She caught his lower lip between her teeth, nipped playfully, then sucked it into her mouth, stroked it with her tongue. She felt it when that mouth stretched into a wicked grin just before he rolled backwards, again pulling her along with him until she lay on top of him, her hair tickling at his chin and jaw as it swept forward with their momentum.
"...I think I'm going to like this dancing."
She'd thought she could feel his voice vibrate through her before, when he'd told her to take off her shirt, but that was nothing compared to the feel of it now, truly vibrating through her skin, through her nipples. She skimmed her mouth over his once, twice, then said, "Ronon."
He silenced her with his tongue, sliding it into her mouth as his hands slid over her back, her waist, her ass, pressed her into his erection as he shifted his hips. "Elizabeth."
Whatever she had been planning on saying to him driven forcefully from her mind, she kissed him again and skimmed one hand over his smooth chest, felt the scars of more than one old wound, felt ribs and muscle as she slid that hand between them and guided him into her. She arched back, straddled his hips, took him deep inside her. His fingers dug almost painfully into her hip even as he stroked feather light over her stomach to her breasts with his other hand.
They moved together in a dance all their own, the only music to be heard a duet of ragged gasps and moans until he bucked up into her one last time with a wordless cry, pushing her over the edge as she collapsed over him, felt the racing beat of his heart in counterpoint to her own.
Title: Dance Lesson
Rating: nc-17
Word count: 825, or at least it was, before some people (you know who you are) goaded me into writing more, so now it's more like 1,300, give or take a few
Characters/Pairings: Ronon/Weir
Spoilers: Are you kidding? There's not even a plot!
Disclaimer: they don't belong to me, yadda yadda.
Author's note: It's just a teeny thing that seems to have gone over the limit of 4,300 characters by just a little, so if you were to read this on the porn battle, you won't find the only actual plotty elements there 'cause I had to cut them to make it fit into comments. The prompt was Ronon/Weir and dancing. Unbetaed but spellchecked, so hopefully it doesn't suck too much. And there is now more pr0n, unbetaed, so if you see any glaring errors or impossibilities, please let me know. *snerk*
“No, no, you put your arms around me, like this,” Elizabeth said and proceeded to demonstrate, taking Ronon’s hands and guiding them around her waist. She was unprepared for the shock of it, touching his bare skin for the first time. It was as though a jolt of electricity shot through her, straight from her fingertips to her groin, and she swallowed hard to prevent a gasp - or something more damning - from escaping her lips.
At first, she thought that Ronon hadn’t noticed. She looked up at him, saw that dark gaze on her mouth, intense and unwavering, and her heart skipped a beat. He licked his lips and his arms tightened around her, pulling her body flush with his.
“We never called this ‘dancing,’” he whispered, his eyes finally lifting from her mouth to look her in the eyes. His breath was warm against her cheek and Elizabeth felt a flush rise from the vicinity of her collarbones. Her eyelids fluttered for half a second before she got them under control. This is ridiculous. Either I push him back in line and teach him to dance, or…
Elizabeth lifted her arms to circle around Ronon’s shoulders, crossed them behind his neck, pulled his head down closer to hers, his mouth closer to hers. Now it was her turn to stare at his mouth and suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to turn the tables and make him react to her. A mischievous smile played at the corners of her lips as her eyes met his again and she lightly ran the tip of her tongue across his lower lip.
Elizabeth’s smile widened at the same rate as Ronon’s eyes. She felt his heart beat faster against her breasts, heard the catch in his breath as he inhaled. “There’s dancing,” she whispered in his ear, “and then there’s dancing.” She caught the lobe lightly in her teeth.
It was like throwing gasoline onto an open flame. Ronon’s hands cupped her ass and he ground his hips against hers, the hard ridge of his cock making her want to peel those tight leather trousers off him, even as he covered her mouth with his. Elizabeth opened her mouth for him, took his tongue in before pushing past it, pushing her tongue into his mouth. He tasted good, tasted sweet and smoky and a little like whatever alcohol he and Sheppard had been drinking when the two men had made their bet.
“You have got to be kidding,” John had said to Ronon, his voice dripping with scorn. “Sure you’ve got good moves in a knife fight, but dancing? You? Not even Elizabeth could teach you to Tango, Dex.”
Ronon backed away from her, just slightly, and Elizabeth shivered from the chill, but then his mouth was at the base of her throat, his tongue licking the little hollow there while his fingers unbuckled her belt with quick, sure movements. She slipped her hands under his loose shirt, splayed them out over his smooth skin, felt the muscles beneath.
“Bet she can,” Ronon had shot back, a smug grin on his handsome face.
“How much?” Sheppard lifted his glass, pretending to study the liquid within.
Ronon had at least had the decency to turn to her, eyebrows raised in a question. Standing in the doorway, arms across her chest, she had shrugged and he’d turned back to John. “I win, you have to be nice to McKay for a week.”
Nice. Nice… Oh, God, his hands felt nice on her hips, sliding beneath her underwear, skimming it over her skin along with her trousers. Nipping at his jaw, she fumbled with the ties to his shirt and finally gave up, grabbed the hem and lifted it even as he dropped down to his knees, pushed her clothes down with him and then lifted his arms so she could pull off his shirt. As soon as the cloth was out of the way, he traced a path from one hip to the other with his tongue, punctuating the slow licking with his teeth. Elizabeth moaned.
“What if I win?” The prospect of being nice to Rodney for a solid week appeared to have John a bit rattled.
“You won’t.”
Elizabeth’s knees buckled as Ronon’s tongue dipped lower, slipped inside her as his fingers tightened on her thighs. She caught herself on his broad shoulders and he pulled away - “No! Don’t stop!” - but he only lowered her to the floor.
She pushed up onto her elbows and watched as he peeled away the leather, just as she’d imagined a few moments before. Watching her watching him undress, Ronon smiled, sweet and arrogant. “Take off your shirt.” His voice rumbled through her like a physical touch.
“We’ll have another kind of dancing lesson later…” she told him as she did as he’d asked. Even if she couldn’t teach him to Tango, Elizabeth would come out the winner in this bet. The prospect was almost as exhilarating as the sight of Ronon Dex, standing naked just a short space from her. Almost.
Her arms tangled in her shirt and bra. Looking at him, she forgot to breathe. But then he took one long step toward her, stood looking down at her, stood between her legs, that sweet-arrogant smile grown wider. "If all your... dance lessons are like this..." Elizabeth found she could move agin, finally succeeded in freeing her wrists, reached one hand up to Ronon. He took it and allowed her to pull him down, but he stopped his descent and instead leaned back, kept hold of her hand, pulled her along with him until she knelt before him, face to face. She felt his warm breath on her face; his dark eyes seemed to shimmer from the heat between them. All she would have to do to feel his mouth on hers again, to taste him again, was lean into him that last inch or so...
Elizabeth leaned. She caught his lower lip between her teeth, nipped playfully, then sucked it into her mouth, stroked it with her tongue. She felt it when that mouth stretched into a wicked grin just before he rolled backwards, again pulling her along with him until she lay on top of him, her hair tickling at his chin and jaw as it swept forward with their momentum.
"...I think I'm going to like this dancing."
She'd thought she could feel his voice vibrate through her before, when he'd told her to take off her shirt, but that was nothing compared to the feel of it now, truly vibrating through her skin, through her nipples. She skimmed her mouth over his once, twice, then said, "Ronon."
He silenced her with his tongue, sliding it into her mouth as his hands slid over her back, her waist, her ass, pressed her into his erection as he shifted his hips. "Elizabeth."
Whatever she had been planning on saying to him driven forcefully from her mind, she kissed him again and skimmed one hand over his smooth chest, felt the scars of more than one old wound, felt ribs and muscle as she slid that hand between them and guided him into her. She arched back, straddled his hips, took him deep inside her. His fingers dug almost painfully into her hip even as he stroked feather light over her stomach to her breasts with his other hand.
They moved together in a dance all their own, the only music to be heard a duet of ragged gasps and moans until he bucked up into her one last time with a wordless cry, pushing her over the edge as she collapsed over him, felt the racing beat of his heart in counterpoint to her own.