Fic: Home, Daniel/Ronon, R
Title: Home
Author: enigel
For: Mimm (littlemimm)
Pairing & characters: Daniel/Ronon, Mitchell, Sheppard (don't ask, don't tell, but if you asked, there may be some implied Mitchell/Sheppard if you want to see it)
Rating: R / Mature
Word count: ~2900
Beta-ed by the ever-awesome Mouse and NightElf
"So, it's just the four of us?" asked Sheppard taking in the small group they made.
"Yep," replied Daniel, "Vala convinced Sam and Teyla to go for a 'girls' night out'. I can't wait for the stories."
Sheppard quirked his eyebrows.
"Well, that should be interesting, an alien showing another alien regular life on Earth."
"Oh, believe me, Vala has adapted very well," said Daniel ruefully. "Annoyingly well, some of us could say."
"Yeah, I just hope we won't read said stories in the morning newspaper," said Mitchell. "Speaking of which, do you know where your credit card is?" he added in a casual tone.
"Oh yes. This time it's Sam who has to look out."
"I'm glad Teyla's with them then. I trust she can hold her own in front of your wonder alien girl. Jackson," Sheppard looked at him directly this time, "General O'Neill said you're the best person to show us around."
Daniel smiled. Jack knew about his passion for Atlantis and knew he wouldn't miss the chance to speak with their most involved team.
"What with your being an anthropologist and all, is what he said."
This meant Jack was following a double purpose. He wanted him to study the people on whom Atlantis' fate so often rested, to see how they were coping, if they hadn't gone too round the bend. Compared to the SGC teams themselves, Daniel thought, they'd have to try really hard. But who knew?
He wished he could have been there to see it born, Earth's first real colony of volunteers. You don't often get the chance to experience the birth of a society. From his too-brief visit there he'd already had his suspicions confirmed - they were already more than a group. The officials had foreseen this, and tried to prevent the deepening of the rift between "them" and "us" by rotating some of the personnel, but it didn't really work like that. He'd told them, and they'd understood it eventually.
Daniel looked at the way Ronon stood, at the edge of the group, instinctively keeping an eye out for trouble, shielding the group, alert. Sheppard stood close to him, but not closer than the norm. To Daniel's left, Cameron appeared blithely unaware of any social dynamics, but Daniel knew better. Both Sheppard and Mitchell were aware of their surroundings, while the advantage of the home turf let them keep their cool, uncaring facade.
Daniel planned to take them to the best steak place he knew in the area. It wasn't until the bouncer stared him in the eyes, looming over half a dozen empty tables, and told him they're full, that he remembered what place that was. He beat a polite retreat, under Ronon's curious gaze, and led them to a pizza bistro instead. After all, if they were to sink into Earth culture, he couldn't get more universal than pizza.
"Why did that man look at us like that?" asked Ronon bluntly.
Daniel frowned.
"Ah, it looks like we're still not exactly welcome in that place."
"No, really?" said Sheppard dryly.
"Yeah, I could tell," said Ronon. "But why?"
"Um, it's a story from a few years back, but these people have long memories."
Mitchell's interest was piqued.
"What did you do?"
"Who said I did anything?"
Cameron crossed his arms, Sheppard raised his eyebrows and Ronon grinned.
"Oh, fine. It's a long story."
"Give us the Cliff's Notes, then," invited Sheppard with generosity.
"The condensed version is that I might have accidentally started a bar fight. While the three of us - Sam, Jack and I - were high on superstrength from an alien device."
Laughter ensued.
"They called me a geek! There weren't that many times back then when I had the upper hand on refuting this kind of remark. Besides, the device affected our judgement too. And, um, really, it wasn't even that much of a brawl."
"Why didn't I know about this?"
"Not everything is in the files, Mitchell," said Daniel cheerfully. "We've left the spicier parts out so we'd still have something new to tell around the campfire."
"I can't believe you guys didn't tell me about this!"
"Well, it's not exactly one of our most glorious moments."
"Are you kidding? I love bar fights!"
"Bar fights are the best stories," agreed Ronon with a wide grin and what sounded like enthusiasm, and Daniel wondered if he was remembering some fights of his own, in comparison to which their own quarrel at O'Malley's would have been a kindergarten scuffle. Not that anyone would have dared to call Ronon a geek, or whatever the Satedan equivalent was, thought Daniel, stealing a look at the well-built form towering next to him.
"So, how many did you knock out?" asked Ronon, his eyes sparkling with interest.
By the time Daniel had managed to dispel the undeserved troublemaker image and attribute it to its rightful owner (who just happened to not be there, but it was Jack's smart mouth that always got them into trouble, really), the pizzas had arrived and talk ceased for a while. Ronon, at least, had stopped talking, and Mitchell was staring in fascination at the way he devoured the food while Sheppard grinned through his pizza like at a joke known only to him.
"Do you guys want some beer?" asked Mitchell when they were done.
"Sure," said Ronon.
"Me too," said John. "They never bring the good stuff anymore on the Daedalus."
Mitchell got up and Daniel frowned, momentarily distracted from the list of questions he was planning to ask about Atlantis.
"Couldn't we just order them?" he asked.
"Nah, it's faster if we go get them ourselves," said Mitchell.
"I'll come help you then," said John lazily.
Ronon was now grinning through his pizza, but Daniel chose to ignore this and corner him with more questions about the Pegasus myths and legends concerning the Ancients, the perception of the Ancestors in the Pegasus natives' minds and how this shaped their world.
"They were, they fought, they died out," he shrugged. "You'll have to ask Teyla about this stuff. And you'd have to be there. If you're so interested in the Ancients why aren't you on Atlantis with us?"
"Hm," Daniel smiled ruefully. "Not for lack of trying, trust me. It's a long story, more like several stories. If I believed in fate I'd say that it looks like it was not meant to be."
"But you don't."
"We sort of started this mess here, so here's where I have to be until we fix it. If my research will need me to go to Atlantis, I will."
'And I hope it does,' Daniel thought, but didn't say it.
Ronon nodded.
"It's like Sheppard with waking up the Wraith. He doesn't talk about it much, but I know he feels responsible."
"Well, the Wraith would have woken up eventually, but odds are the Orii might not have started on our galaxy if we..."
"Hey, hey, I thought we weren't going to talk about work," interrupted Cameron.
He and John were back, with beers for everybody, and the Orii subject was dropped in favour of ships ("Isn't that work too, Mitchell?" "Are you nuts? Flying is fun!"), customs ("Who's working now, Jackson?" "It so happens that my work and my hobbies coincide, Mitchell. I'm a lucky man like that") and weapons. Nobody protested to that. There would have been a time when Daniel would have considered it grunt talk, and only been interested in ritual knives and hand-made swords passed on through generations. Now any bit of technology that could be an advantage against the Orii was a fascinating subject, as was anything about the Ancients.
The Pegasus replicators were fascinating, because they were, in a way, the Ancients. The Ancients gone wrong. Just like the Orii were the Ascended gone wrong, or more wrong if they asked him.
"Yeah, I don't see what's the point if you don't have a real body to fight with, to live."
"I'm not a fan of the glowy thing myself," said Sheppard. "It was rather awkward when they tried to get me to turn into one of them."
"Ah, but the knowledge, the kind of insight and understanding one hopes to achieve this way, the tremendous potential, I can see how someone would be tempted. I was. I only happened to disagree with the rules they've set up for themselves."
They talked more into the night, regularly breaking the "no work talk" rule.
"It just happens that kicking Wraith ass is my hobby, Dr. Jackson," said Ronon, grinning, and they all laughed.
"Call me Daniel, please," replied Daniel, feeling a warm tingle as he directed his smile at Ronon.
"Speaking of kicking ass, Daniel. Is physical training a part of an archaeologist's education?"
Daniel's eyes widened, and Ronon looked pointedly at his arms.
"No offence, but you don't look like the typical scientist."
Daniel smiled in understanding.
"This is what a typical SGC scientist should look like, if you ask Jack... General O'Neill. He made me take these self-defense classes, work out... I'm still no kind of master, but I can hold my own."
"That's good. All you bookish types could use some exercise."
"Yeah, I mean, I guess it's even a matter of equilibrium. The ancient Greeks and Romans knew it too, their schools insisted on both aspects. To not lose touch with our corporeality, to ground us back into the physical reality."
Ronon raised an eyebrow.
"I was just thinking it would make you more useful in a fight."
Daniel laughed.
"Yeah, that too. I can't say it hasn't cut into my reading time, or frustrated me to no end at first. But in time I've come to appreciate the sheer physicality, the temporary detachment from thinking and complications."
"You should tell this to Teyla. She doesn't believe me when I say that sparring is my meditation."
"That's because you fell asleep during her meditation lessons," pointed out John.
"Isn't meditation about attaining peace and stuff? I get my peace in sleeping."
Sheppard looked away at that. It could have been a trick of the light, but Daniel could swear he looked wistful. Mitchell met Sheppard's eyes for a second, then seemed to look somewhere inside himself, and Daniel wondered what nightmares still plagued their sleep.
Sometime after that, Sheppard and Mitchell exchanged a look, and Mitchell checked his watch.
"Well, guys, it's been fun, but we've got to go."
"Going to have more fun without us?"
"Believe it or not, but we have to call it a night. Mitchell's promised to show me a new 302 class prototype they're testing tomorrow morning."
"And by 'show'," Daniel looked at Mitchell with an amused expression, "you mean 'sneak up and give it a test drive'?"
"Never would the thought have crossed my mind, Jackson," said Cameron with a straight face, placing his right palm over his heart.
"But now that you mention it..." drawled Sheppard, and managed to look resigned.
"Now we're going to be tempted."
"Yeah, it's entirely my fault," said Daniel. "Have fun, Mitchell. Colonel."
"Sheppard sure loves his flying machines," said Ronon after the two lean silhouettes had melted into the night.
"Mitchell's a natural born pilot, but since his new assignment he hasn't gotten much flying done."
"I'm sure Sheppard's going to take care of this," said Ronon seriously, and Daniel wondered if he'd really meant it to sound like an innuendo. He shook his head. He didn't really want to know.
Daniel paid for the dinner and they left too. He liked the atmosphere, but he could feel Ronon going restless, sneaking looks outside through the window. The air was pleasantly chill after the enclosed warmth of the bistro, and he found himself walking instead of calling a cab. Ronon walked beside him, showing no signs of tiredness. He looked over the darkened streets and they talked of all and sundry, but whenever Daniel wasn't looking, he could feel himself observed. It was a surprisingly pleasant feeling.
Daniel wasn't entirely surprised when he found that his feet had carried him in the vicinity of his own house.
He turned to Ronon.
"I guess I'll drive you back. Unless you want to come in for a coffee?"
They stood in the doorway of Daniel's house, the street lamp's light painting strange leaf patterns at their feet.
"Coffee? Why should we drink coffee at night?"
Daniel licked his lips, calculating.
"It's customary for people on Earth to invite each other for a coffee, after an evening out."
Ronon nodded, not saying anything.
"If there are several people, it's usually just a coffee." continued Daniel. "But otherwise, um, it's not exactly about the coffee."
"Let me guess. If we were on Sateda, you'd have invited me to check out your weapons collection."
Daniel laughed lightly, his eyes glinting in the orange light.
"I guess so. I'll have to remember that. Not very subtle..."
"... but efficient?" guessed Ronon.
"It gets the point across."
"I'm not much for subtleties," grinned Ronon and moved closer. Heat and tension hummed from him and Daniel felt a tingle of anticipation.
"I guess I didn't want to be too obvious."
"Is there anything stopping you now?" said Ronon in a low voice, moving closer.
Daniel licked his suddenly dry lips again.
"Keys. Door," he managed before Ronon could make him become very, very obvious right in front of his house.
They got in at the same time and Daniel made a move for the light switch, but Ronon's hand on his stopped him.
"I like the moonlight. And open windows," he whispered in Daniel's ear. A pleasant thrill ran along Daniel's spine from the puff of vaguely beer-scented air.
They got as far as the living-room before the need to touch became overwhelming.
Ronon was fumbling with his visibly unfamiliar jeans.
"Let me get that," offered Daniel.
"I can manage," growled Ronon. "Can't believe they made me wear this. My clothes would have fit right in. Earth's not so much different. More people, more noise..."
"Fewer weapons in the open?" guessed Daniel with a smile, while fumbling with his own belt.
Ronon laughed, short and deep.
"Yeah, that too. But people are certainly," he grunted as he almost ripped at the buttons, "more patient."
"Are you sure?"
"Got to be. Our clothes are made to stay on in battle, but come off real quick when we want them to."
"I really want to help," said Daniel slyly, sneaking a hand under Ronon's shirt.
Ronon's eyes darkened even more.
"If you let me help you with yours."
"Deal," whispered Daniel.
He undid Ronon's shirt with tantalising slowness, hearing with pleasure Ronon's breath coming raspier, heavier.
Ronon pulled off his shirt without much fuss, and Daniel was surprised to note how much he loved the urgency of the gesture, the uncomplicated lust.
He bit his lower lip and slid to his knees.
"What I really want to do first..." he said, and then demonstrated it.
When he looked up, Ronon was looking at him through half-closed eyes, dark with the intensity of his gaze. There was raw hunger in his face, and if he hadn't been already hard, Daniel knew he'd have gotten hard at that look alone.
Ronon hauled him up and kissed his mouth briefly, roughly, mingling seed and saliva between their tongues, then he turned Daniel around, with a fluid and surprisingly gentle motion. Daniel leaned back into him, while Ronon's right hand reached down and grabbed him, his other hand going to rub and twist his nipples. His mouth bit at Daniel's neck, shoulders, cheeks.
What he'd said about humans and patience must have been a joke, because he teased Daniel mercilessly, drawing out the moment until Daniel felt he'd go mad if he didn't get his release right then, and then pushed him a bit more before he touched him just the right way to let a white-hot orgasm wash over Daniel, starting between his legs but tingling all over his body on the teased and sweaty skin.
Daniel indulged in the spreading dizziness for a long moment, leaning bonelessly against Ronon, breathing deep and hard.
He turned then and kissed him slowly, starting from the broad chest and working his way up, Ronon leaning pliantly toward him. He caught an unguarded look then, of something between surprise and a different kind of hunger in his eyes, before they clouded with need again. Ronon pulled him close, as if to melt them together, and they kissed slow and deep for a long time, until the pleasure built up again and they came, rubbing against each other.
They were silent as they prepared for sleep in the pale glow of the pre-dawn light.
"Could you leave the window open?" was Ronon's only request.
"Sure."
The air was a bit brisk, but Ronon spooned up against him and enclosed him in his arms so thoroughly, the touch of hot skin was the only thing Daniel felt as he fell asleep.
He dreamed of high, spiky towers, and a city by the sea, a city called Domus. "Home", unnecessarily translated a low, deep voice, but for some reason Daniel knew it was important that the voice said it to him. He vowed that one day he'd make it there. One day he'd be home.
Author: enigel
For: Mimm (littlemimm)
Pairing & characters: Daniel/Ronon, Mitchell, Sheppard (don't ask, don't tell, but if you asked, there may be some implied Mitchell/Sheppard if you want to see it)
Rating: R / Mature
Word count: ~2900
Beta-ed by the ever-awesome Mouse and NightElf
"So, it's just the four of us?" asked Sheppard taking in the small group they made.
"Yep," replied Daniel, "Vala convinced Sam and Teyla to go for a 'girls' night out'. I can't wait for the stories."
Sheppard quirked his eyebrows.
"Well, that should be interesting, an alien showing another alien regular life on Earth."
"Oh, believe me, Vala has adapted very well," said Daniel ruefully. "Annoyingly well, some of us could say."
"Yeah, I just hope we won't read said stories in the morning newspaper," said Mitchell. "Speaking of which, do you know where your credit card is?" he added in a casual tone.
"Oh yes. This time it's Sam who has to look out."
"I'm glad Teyla's with them then. I trust she can hold her own in front of your wonder alien girl. Jackson," Sheppard looked at him directly this time, "General O'Neill said you're the best person to show us around."
Daniel smiled. Jack knew about his passion for Atlantis and knew he wouldn't miss the chance to speak with their most involved team.
"What with your being an anthropologist and all, is what he said."
This meant Jack was following a double purpose. He wanted him to study the people on whom Atlantis' fate so often rested, to see how they were coping, if they hadn't gone too round the bend. Compared to the SGC teams themselves, Daniel thought, they'd have to try really hard. But who knew?
He wished he could have been there to see it born, Earth's first real colony of volunteers. You don't often get the chance to experience the birth of a society. From his too-brief visit there he'd already had his suspicions confirmed - they were already more than a group. The officials had foreseen this, and tried to prevent the deepening of the rift between "them" and "us" by rotating some of the personnel, but it didn't really work like that. He'd told them, and they'd understood it eventually.
Daniel looked at the way Ronon stood, at the edge of the group, instinctively keeping an eye out for trouble, shielding the group, alert. Sheppard stood close to him, but not closer than the norm. To Daniel's left, Cameron appeared blithely unaware of any social dynamics, but Daniel knew better. Both Sheppard and Mitchell were aware of their surroundings, while the advantage of the home turf let them keep their cool, uncaring facade.
Daniel planned to take them to the best steak place he knew in the area. It wasn't until the bouncer stared him in the eyes, looming over half a dozen empty tables, and told him they're full, that he remembered what place that was. He beat a polite retreat, under Ronon's curious gaze, and led them to a pizza bistro instead. After all, if they were to sink into Earth culture, he couldn't get more universal than pizza.
"Why did that man look at us like that?" asked Ronon bluntly.
Daniel frowned.
"Ah, it looks like we're still not exactly welcome in that place."
"No, really?" said Sheppard dryly.
"Yeah, I could tell," said Ronon. "But why?"
"Um, it's a story from a few years back, but these people have long memories."
Mitchell's interest was piqued.
"What did you do?"
"Who said I did anything?"
Cameron crossed his arms, Sheppard raised his eyebrows and Ronon grinned.
"Oh, fine. It's a long story."
"Give us the Cliff's Notes, then," invited Sheppard with generosity.
"The condensed version is that I might have accidentally started a bar fight. While the three of us - Sam, Jack and I - were high on superstrength from an alien device."
Laughter ensued.
"They called me a geek! There weren't that many times back then when I had the upper hand on refuting this kind of remark. Besides, the device affected our judgement too. And, um, really, it wasn't even that much of a brawl."
"Why didn't I know about this?"
"Not everything is in the files, Mitchell," said Daniel cheerfully. "We've left the spicier parts out so we'd still have something new to tell around the campfire."
"I can't believe you guys didn't tell me about this!"
"Well, it's not exactly one of our most glorious moments."
"Are you kidding? I love bar fights!"
"Bar fights are the best stories," agreed Ronon with a wide grin and what sounded like enthusiasm, and Daniel wondered if he was remembering some fights of his own, in comparison to which their own quarrel at O'Malley's would have been a kindergarten scuffle. Not that anyone would have dared to call Ronon a geek, or whatever the Satedan equivalent was, thought Daniel, stealing a look at the well-built form towering next to him.
"So, how many did you knock out?" asked Ronon, his eyes sparkling with interest.
By the time Daniel had managed to dispel the undeserved troublemaker image and attribute it to its rightful owner (who just happened to not be there, but it was Jack's smart mouth that always got them into trouble, really), the pizzas had arrived and talk ceased for a while. Ronon, at least, had stopped talking, and Mitchell was staring in fascination at the way he devoured the food while Sheppard grinned through his pizza like at a joke known only to him.
"Do you guys want some beer?" asked Mitchell when they were done.
"Sure," said Ronon.
"Me too," said John. "They never bring the good stuff anymore on the Daedalus."
Mitchell got up and Daniel frowned, momentarily distracted from the list of questions he was planning to ask about Atlantis.
"Couldn't we just order them?" he asked.
"Nah, it's faster if we go get them ourselves," said Mitchell.
"I'll come help you then," said John lazily.
Ronon was now grinning through his pizza, but Daniel chose to ignore this and corner him with more questions about the Pegasus myths and legends concerning the Ancients, the perception of the Ancestors in the Pegasus natives' minds and how this shaped their world.
"They were, they fought, they died out," he shrugged. "You'll have to ask Teyla about this stuff. And you'd have to be there. If you're so interested in the Ancients why aren't you on Atlantis with us?"
"Hm," Daniel smiled ruefully. "Not for lack of trying, trust me. It's a long story, more like several stories. If I believed in fate I'd say that it looks like it was not meant to be."
"But you don't."
"We sort of started this mess here, so here's where I have to be until we fix it. If my research will need me to go to Atlantis, I will."
'And I hope it does,' Daniel thought, but didn't say it.
Ronon nodded.
"It's like Sheppard with waking up the Wraith. He doesn't talk about it much, but I know he feels responsible."
"Well, the Wraith would have woken up eventually, but odds are the Orii might not have started on our galaxy if we..."
"Hey, hey, I thought we weren't going to talk about work," interrupted Cameron.
He and John were back, with beers for everybody, and the Orii subject was dropped in favour of ships ("Isn't that work too, Mitchell?" "Are you nuts? Flying is fun!"), customs ("Who's working now, Jackson?" "It so happens that my work and my hobbies coincide, Mitchell. I'm a lucky man like that") and weapons. Nobody protested to that. There would have been a time when Daniel would have considered it grunt talk, and only been interested in ritual knives and hand-made swords passed on through generations. Now any bit of technology that could be an advantage against the Orii was a fascinating subject, as was anything about the Ancients.
The Pegasus replicators were fascinating, because they were, in a way, the Ancients. The Ancients gone wrong. Just like the Orii were the Ascended gone wrong, or more wrong if they asked him.
"Yeah, I don't see what's the point if you don't have a real body to fight with, to live."
"I'm not a fan of the glowy thing myself," said Sheppard. "It was rather awkward when they tried to get me to turn into one of them."
"Ah, but the knowledge, the kind of insight and understanding one hopes to achieve this way, the tremendous potential, I can see how someone would be tempted. I was. I only happened to disagree with the rules they've set up for themselves."
They talked more into the night, regularly breaking the "no work talk" rule.
"It just happens that kicking Wraith ass is my hobby, Dr. Jackson," said Ronon, grinning, and they all laughed.
"Call me Daniel, please," replied Daniel, feeling a warm tingle as he directed his smile at Ronon.
"Speaking of kicking ass, Daniel. Is physical training a part of an archaeologist's education?"
Daniel's eyes widened, and Ronon looked pointedly at his arms.
"No offence, but you don't look like the typical scientist."
Daniel smiled in understanding.
"This is what a typical SGC scientist should look like, if you ask Jack... General O'Neill. He made me take these self-defense classes, work out... I'm still no kind of master, but I can hold my own."
"That's good. All you bookish types could use some exercise."
"Yeah, I mean, I guess it's even a matter of equilibrium. The ancient Greeks and Romans knew it too, their schools insisted on both aspects. To not lose touch with our corporeality, to ground us back into the physical reality."
Ronon raised an eyebrow.
"I was just thinking it would make you more useful in a fight."
Daniel laughed.
"Yeah, that too. I can't say it hasn't cut into my reading time, or frustrated me to no end at first. But in time I've come to appreciate the sheer physicality, the temporary detachment from thinking and complications."
"You should tell this to Teyla. She doesn't believe me when I say that sparring is my meditation."
"That's because you fell asleep during her meditation lessons," pointed out John.
"Isn't meditation about attaining peace and stuff? I get my peace in sleeping."
Sheppard looked away at that. It could have been a trick of the light, but Daniel could swear he looked wistful. Mitchell met Sheppard's eyes for a second, then seemed to look somewhere inside himself, and Daniel wondered what nightmares still plagued their sleep.
Sometime after that, Sheppard and Mitchell exchanged a look, and Mitchell checked his watch.
"Well, guys, it's been fun, but we've got to go."
"Going to have more fun without us?"
"Believe it or not, but we have to call it a night. Mitchell's promised to show me a new 302 class prototype they're testing tomorrow morning."
"And by 'show'," Daniel looked at Mitchell with an amused expression, "you mean 'sneak up and give it a test drive'?"
"Never would the thought have crossed my mind, Jackson," said Cameron with a straight face, placing his right palm over his heart.
"But now that you mention it..." drawled Sheppard, and managed to look resigned.
"Now we're going to be tempted."
"Yeah, it's entirely my fault," said Daniel. "Have fun, Mitchell. Colonel."
"Sheppard sure loves his flying machines," said Ronon after the two lean silhouettes had melted into the night.
"Mitchell's a natural born pilot, but since his new assignment he hasn't gotten much flying done."
"I'm sure Sheppard's going to take care of this," said Ronon seriously, and Daniel wondered if he'd really meant it to sound like an innuendo. He shook his head. He didn't really want to know.
Daniel paid for the dinner and they left too. He liked the atmosphere, but he could feel Ronon going restless, sneaking looks outside through the window. The air was pleasantly chill after the enclosed warmth of the bistro, and he found himself walking instead of calling a cab. Ronon walked beside him, showing no signs of tiredness. He looked over the darkened streets and they talked of all and sundry, but whenever Daniel wasn't looking, he could feel himself observed. It was a surprisingly pleasant feeling.
Daniel wasn't entirely surprised when he found that his feet had carried him in the vicinity of his own house.
He turned to Ronon.
"I guess I'll drive you back. Unless you want to come in for a coffee?"
They stood in the doorway of Daniel's house, the street lamp's light painting strange leaf patterns at their feet.
"Coffee? Why should we drink coffee at night?"
Daniel licked his lips, calculating.
"It's customary for people on Earth to invite each other for a coffee, after an evening out."
Ronon nodded, not saying anything.
"If there are several people, it's usually just a coffee." continued Daniel. "But otherwise, um, it's not exactly about the coffee."
"Let me guess. If we were on Sateda, you'd have invited me to check out your weapons collection."
Daniel laughed lightly, his eyes glinting in the orange light.
"I guess so. I'll have to remember that. Not very subtle..."
"... but efficient?" guessed Ronon.
"It gets the point across."
"I'm not much for subtleties," grinned Ronon and moved closer. Heat and tension hummed from him and Daniel felt a tingle of anticipation.
"I guess I didn't want to be too obvious."
"Is there anything stopping you now?" said Ronon in a low voice, moving closer.
Daniel licked his suddenly dry lips again.
"Keys. Door," he managed before Ronon could make him become very, very obvious right in front of his house.
They got in at the same time and Daniel made a move for the light switch, but Ronon's hand on his stopped him.
"I like the moonlight. And open windows," he whispered in Daniel's ear. A pleasant thrill ran along Daniel's spine from the puff of vaguely beer-scented air.
They got as far as the living-room before the need to touch became overwhelming.
Ronon was fumbling with his visibly unfamiliar jeans.
"Let me get that," offered Daniel.
"I can manage," growled Ronon. "Can't believe they made me wear this. My clothes would have fit right in. Earth's not so much different. More people, more noise..."
"Fewer weapons in the open?" guessed Daniel with a smile, while fumbling with his own belt.
Ronon laughed, short and deep.
"Yeah, that too. But people are certainly," he grunted as he almost ripped at the buttons, "more patient."
"Are you sure?"
"Got to be. Our clothes are made to stay on in battle, but come off real quick when we want them to."
"I really want to help," said Daniel slyly, sneaking a hand under Ronon's shirt.
Ronon's eyes darkened even more.
"If you let me help you with yours."
"Deal," whispered Daniel.
He undid Ronon's shirt with tantalising slowness, hearing with pleasure Ronon's breath coming raspier, heavier.
Ronon pulled off his shirt without much fuss, and Daniel was surprised to note how much he loved the urgency of the gesture, the uncomplicated lust.
He bit his lower lip and slid to his knees.
"What I really want to do first..." he said, and then demonstrated it.
When he looked up, Ronon was looking at him through half-closed eyes, dark with the intensity of his gaze. There was raw hunger in his face, and if he hadn't been already hard, Daniel knew he'd have gotten hard at that look alone.
Ronon hauled him up and kissed his mouth briefly, roughly, mingling seed and saliva between their tongues, then he turned Daniel around, with a fluid and surprisingly gentle motion. Daniel leaned back into him, while Ronon's right hand reached down and grabbed him, his other hand going to rub and twist his nipples. His mouth bit at Daniel's neck, shoulders, cheeks.
What he'd said about humans and patience must have been a joke, because he teased Daniel mercilessly, drawing out the moment until Daniel felt he'd go mad if he didn't get his release right then, and then pushed him a bit more before he touched him just the right way to let a white-hot orgasm wash over Daniel, starting between his legs but tingling all over his body on the teased and sweaty skin.
Daniel indulged in the spreading dizziness for a long moment, leaning bonelessly against Ronon, breathing deep and hard.
He turned then and kissed him slowly, starting from the broad chest and working his way up, Ronon leaning pliantly toward him. He caught an unguarded look then, of something between surprise and a different kind of hunger in his eyes, before they clouded with need again. Ronon pulled him close, as if to melt them together, and they kissed slow and deep for a long time, until the pleasure built up again and they came, rubbing against each other.
They were silent as they prepared for sleep in the pale glow of the pre-dawn light.
"Could you leave the window open?" was Ronon's only request.
"Sure."
The air was a bit brisk, but Ronon spooned up against him and enclosed him in his arms so thoroughly, the touch of hot skin was the only thing Daniel felt as he fell asleep.
He dreamed of high, spiky towers, and a city by the sea, a city called Domus. "Home", unnecessarily translated a low, deep voice, but for some reason Daniel knew it was important that the voice said it to him. He vowed that one day he'd make it there. One day he'd be home.