Fic: Want
Title: Want
Author: wicked_socks
Rating: adult
Paring: Rodney/Ronon
For: the lovely trixiesfic. Happy Holidays!
Summary: Rodney wants what he can't have, can't have outside of his mind at least.
Betaed by zabbers, the zabtastic. Thanks hon!
Tomorrow, or the day after, Rodney will see Ronon going down to the gym. Or maybe he will hear Lorne or Sheppard mention how he's got an appointment to have his ass kicked. And Rodney will smile, bide his time (he can be a patient man in the right circumstances), and when two hours have passed he'll make his way down to the gym where Ronon should be alone. The other men will have already left for the showers by that point; it's the last chance to get lunch before the mess closes for a few hours to prepare dinner.
Rodney will step in and lock the door from the inside before turning back to Ronon who will be in need of a shower, but Rodney will be too turned on to complain or care. Ronon, quick witted when he wants to be, will have already shucked his shirt and will be standing there in his leather trousers, leather wristbands, and his assortment of necklaces.
Rodney will step close, into Ronon's space, and place his hands on the hot, damp skin of Ronon's hips, fingers wandering over firm muscle and soft skin. Rodney's gaze will go unfocused then, eyes sliding half shut, mouth open and breathing slightly irregular. Ronon will chuckle, the sound resonating deep within his chest, and Rodney will feel it as much as hear it, his body flush against Ronon.
He will trail his fingers up Ronon's sides, sliding along hot sweat-slicked skin, until his hands are squeezing Ronon's hefty biceps. He'll feel the ripple of muscle as Ronon moves, mirroring Rodney's first actions. Hands to Rodney's hips, Ronon will slide his hands over Rodney's slight belly, fingers teasingly dipping below his waistband, before sneaking under Rodney's shirt.
He'll run push the shirt up as his hands move, touch surprisingly light for such strong hands, but still sending shivers through Rodney at the raspy feel of calluses or the edge of nails against his sides. He'll relinquish his hold on Ronon to lose the shirt, and flail a bit to get the shirt off, for Ronon's hands would have stopped assisting him in order to skim down Rodney's back, sliding smoothly down his spine, and firmly grab his ass.
Rodney will moan, biting at Ronon's jaw as his hands fly down to undo Ronon's belt. Rodney'll never know what the fuck is going on with the ties and laces of Ronon's leather pants; he won't bother with that, just press his hand against Ronon's cock, and rub, hard, back and forth, fascinated by the feel of an erection straining against supple leather. Groaning, Ronon will haul Rodney closer, trapping his hand between them, but Rodney won't care about that, won't care about beard burn, because it'll be all hot wet mouth, slick tongue, and the edge of teeth as they kiss and grind against each other.
It'll be sublime, but Rodney will want more, much more. He'll want to drop to his knees, just drop to the cold hard floor, and mouth Ronon's thick dick. He'll want Ronon to get the fucking pants out of the way already, jerk them down slim muscular hips. And he'll want to bury his face in the dark crinkly hair and inhale his musky scent, before moving back and licking and sucking with obscene slurpy sounds to his heart's content. He'll feel it through his hands, gripping Ronon's thighs for stability, the muscles twitching as Ronon forces his knees not to buckle.
Rodney will want to feel the ache in his jaw, the burn in his throat when he swallows around Ronon's dick. He will want to feel the soft skin of Ronon's balls against his tongue, sucking them gently into his mouth and he'll want, he'll want…
He will want, alright. Oh, will he ever want. Right now, right here. But he won't get it except for in his mind, will he?
So for now, Rodney grasped his own cock, sliding his hand up and down, palming over the head, and gasping into his arm lying over his face. He fucked his fist, quick and fast, hips jerking off the bed, and came with a groan, all the while thinking about sucking cock, Ronon's thick hard cock.
***
Rodney had been fantasizing about Ronon since the man's third day on Atlantis. One glance at the man tossing Marines like twigs (and boy, he had never thought violence could be this hot) and Rodney was caught between beating a swift retreat to spank the monkey, or staying to watch and later beat a swift retreat for the same purpose.
He never did come on to Ronon though. The significant level of physical intimidation probably had something to do with it. Sure, it was hot when Ronon tackled Marines, but the thought of being jumped on for reasons other than sex and getting his face smashed into the ground did not make Rodney McKay all hot and bothered. He liked his face in once piece, his kidneys undamaged, and his spleen not ruptured, thank you very much.
That was the nice thing about Samantha Carter, if Rodney pinched her ass she might slap him, but she'd never pull knives out of her hair and lick them in a suggestively psychopathic manner. Ronon on the other hand would lick and caress bloody knives and that was just during lunches of rare almost-yak-but-with-six-legs which always brought out his not so inner caveman.
Rodney did seriously rethink this position once. It was while one Lucius Lavin was in Atlantis and Rodney flying higher than a kite. When Ronon held him up against the wall until Lucius's pheromones took effect, Rodney felt his terrified hysteria with detached acknowledgement of the sexual nature of their position change until he was only vaguely worried and quite a bit more turned on.
Rodney was mostly fixated on Lucius the whole day, but he found himself overtly watching Ronon. But after the third time Ronon caught his eye, he didn't just grin at Rodney, he also winked at him. Then he winked at Zelenka, Teyla, and Lucius. But before Rodney could tear himself from Lucius's side to see if his wink meant something and so some good could come of the drug's effects, the Colonel stole Carson, and then he stole Lucius, and Rodney experienced a crashing return to reality with the jab of a needle. Like the entire Atlantis, except for Sheppard, he resolved never to speak or think of his Lucius infatuated days again. He was so eager to repress the memory of Lucius it was easy to deny he had ever mooned over Ronon in public.
***
Rescuing Sheppard from Kolya and the Wraith was, while a success, a miserably anticlimactic ending to a hellish day. Between the earlier pointless mission and the mission (really more of a pick up) that saved Sheppard, Rodney felt twitchy with unused adrenaline. Sheppard was in much the same boat; the Wraith had given him back youth, hair (not that he needed more), and a fair bit of energy, but Carson was keeping him in the infirmary for observation and bloodletting. So, as a long suffering friend, Rodney let Sheppard convince him to play poker. He lost three dessert rations and his Friday night rights to Life of Brian before Carson took pity on his losing streak and told Sheppard he could go running with Ronon. The Colonel left so quickly he never ate his jello cup. Jogging over jello… obviously he was a very ill man. So Rodney took his unappreciated dessert and went down to the labs. Sheppard was a good friend, but this was jello.
He sat at his desk with his laptop, typing with one hand and slurping straight from the jello cup. But the jello was gone too quickly; the brand name was always stingier with their portion sizes than the larger generic store brand, yet whoever had imported this hadn't thought of that. Rodney stood up and went to check the communal science snack cabinet which was unsurprisingly empty except for some of those awfully bitter Athosian crackers, an empty powerbar box, and a few stray wrappers. He grumbled about moocher scientists and not respecting lab space and went back to his desk.
But he couldn't manage to get comfortable. The seat of the stool was hard and unforgiving, and it wobbled as Rodney jiggled his leg while he thought. Rodney got up again and switched his stool for Radek's, appropriating the Athosian pillow on it as well. That got him through Simpson's test results on the Ancient device scavenged from PX6-358, and half way through Zelenka's evaluations of the temporary personnel from the Daedalus, but then he got antsy again.
Fine, if he was going to be utterly useless at work because of Sheppard, then he might as well go bother him. So Rodney grabbed his laptop and headed off to the infirmary.
***
Rodney turned the corner and smacked straight into someone. His face connected with a sweat damp chest, his legs nearly tangled with the other person, and his laptop hit the floor with a dull thud. Strong hands grasped his shoulders, halting his stumble and holding him steady. Rodney flailed until he regained his equilibrium, heart jumping with surprise. "What where the hell you… oh." He took a breath, and then another ragged on, "Um, Ronon. Hello." He swallowed nervously; he was just a few inches away from being embraced by Ronon in a disturbingly harlequin manner, and, although no damsel in distress, he was finding the firm grasp of large hands on his shoulders as he stood almost chest to chest with Ronon quite hot. He realized he had grabbed Ronon for balance and he yanked his hands away guiltily.
Ronon grinned at him, a flash of white teeth. "McKay. Ever look up when you walk?" He asked, not letting go or stepping back as most people would.
"Do I? You're the one barreling though like a loose train!" Rodney huffed as he jerked back out of Ronon's grasp. "And I hope you're going to shower because you smell." Although, if Rodney had to admit it to himself Ronon's scent was more arousing than disgusting; he'd had too many fantasies that started rather like this for it not to be.
Ronon just shrugged at Rodney. "Went for a run with Sheppard," he said. He let go and stepped back, regarding Rodney under thick brows for a moment before moving away and picking up the laptop from where it had slid into the corner. His worn linen pants slipped to bare a line of skin as he bent down.
Rodney swallowed hard. He shook his head slightly to chase lingering thoughts away and snapped his fingers at Ronon. "Give me that. I bet you broke the screen when you rammed into me, Paul Bunyan."
"Looks fine," Ronon said, looking at the screen of the laptop. He tilted his head, "Isn't this that card game Weir is always playing? Recluse or something?"
Rodney grabbed the laptop from him. "The game is Solitaire and I was using it for scientific purposes, not that it's any of your business or that you would understand. Now get out of my way. I was going to go visit Sheppard."
"Can't," Ronon said.
"What? What do you mean I can't - oh. You mean Carson kicked you and the Colonel's simpering visitors out. Crap. Well, maybe he'll let me - Do you mind? You're kinda blocking the hallway here." Rodney wasn't about to try to shove Ronon out of the way. That could only end embarrassingly. He snapped his fingers at the other man. "Scoot."
"Sheppard's asleep. Carson said you can only go in if it's to take a sedative and go to sleep."
"I don't need to sleep. I need to be able to sit down and work," Rodney gripped. "I never thought I'd say this in terms of physical exertion, but that mission was rather unsatisfying."
"Want to relieve some tension?" Ronon asked, giving him a considering look.
"Huh? What do you mean? Never mind, I'm sure it'd involve crippling me with alien martial arts. You know, I sometimes wonder if Bruce Lee came from your planet," Rodney said.
Ronon moved closer to Rodney. "Seen you lookin' at me, McKay."
Rodney could feel his heart rate leap and his face flush even as his brain stuttered over the conversational 180. "What? I uh, keep close over my team, always observe them." He took an unsteady breath, and then a few nervous swallows, as having Ronon look him like that did things to his body. "Right, that's me, Mr. Observant And Thus Looking, but not "looking." I mean, I, uh, see how such a miscommunication over "looking" could take place," he said as he sketched the air quotes with one hand. "But I uh, I assure you it was not meant-" His voice took a sudden jump to a high pitch as Ronon fisted Rodney's shirt in one hand, hauling him closer, and reached down and cupped between his legs with the other. Rodney's half hard cock twitched against his hand even as the rest of him froze in indignant surprise for a moment.
"What, you… no! No, no, no, get your hand… unhand me this instant! Personal space bubble!" Rodney indignantly shrieked, dropping the laptop (thank god for spares) as he tried to pull himself back, away from Ronon's grasp, but gently as there was a rather intimate grip on his privates. It felt nice, god, it felt excellent, but where the… why was? It's not like he'd ever… "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"What I want to do," Ronon said, grinning, the tip of his tongue showing between his teeth, and he squeezed lightly.
"What you - uhhhh" Rodney involuntarily groaned at the feel of Ronon's hands on him, eyelids flickering down for a moment before he remembered he was in a public hallway being groped by a guy who had never looked at him twice and he snapped out of it. "What?! You've never given an indication of - What brought this - oh. Okay, fine I get it. I'm sure you think this is very funny, you've got me, now get your hand off my dick!" Rodney said, pissed off and mortified. He had his hands around Ronon's fistful of his shirt, trying to tug it free, hoping he wouldn't have to do some similar lower down tug of war.
Ronon stepped forward, crowding Rodney back against the wall, pinning Rodney simply by leaning against him, trapping his hands between their chests. Rodney could feel the heat rising in his face as his body responded to the position. He could feel Ronon's hard-on against his belly and for a moment he could do nothing but boggle at the surreal situation. Fuck, was he actually refusing sex with the man the entire expedition lusted after?
As Rodney froze against the wall, Ronon untangled his hand from Rodney's shirt and suddenly lax grip. He ran his hand up the side of Rodney's neck, cupping his jaw, the tips of his fingers brushing the hair at the nape of Rodney's neck. "I asked you if you wanted to relieve some tension," Ronon's voice rumbled. "Keep up, will you?"
"I thought you were going to, sarcastically, mind you, invite me to the gym! Not grab me by the dick!" Rodney hissed, although he wasn't even sure what he was protesting anymore. "And that is the worst euphemism ever, how do you expect - mmmph!" Ronon had moved his hand to the back of Rodney's neck and pulled him forward into a kiss, muffling Rodney's words with his lips, his whiskers tickling Rodney's face, his hips grinding against Rodney's and his hand.
Rodney had a moment of oh shit, what's he - oh my god he's kissing me, he's kissing me, before he just decided to go with it. After all it was Ronon kissing him. His hands grasped Ronon's shirt, hanging on, kissing, licking, and biting back for all he was worth, but continuing the conversation with raged breaths between kisses. "Since when? Couldn't you say something like normal people? This ahhhh, really isn't a good idea. Oh that's really nice, keep doing that. Well, makes sense in a twisted way. You always do prefer to act rather than talk. Still, a warning would be nice. Also, for the record we are still in the hallway."
Somewhere along the line, Ronon's hands had unbuttoned his pants, and Rodney jerked his mouth away from Ronon to pant harshly into his shoulder, "You know we, uhhh, we're in the hall, Ronon!" He bit his lip to keep from moaning too loudly as Ronon stroked him through his boxers. "We're in the fucking open and I am not going to have sex against a wall in a public hallway! Even if it is with you!"
Ronon flexed his hips and Rodney nearly crossed his eyes at the wave of pleasure. "The hallway's empty," Ronon said. "Night patrol doesn't come through here."
"It's sex against a wall; I'd slip a disk for sure. Plus it's really not helping my sciatica. Have I mentioned we're also in plain sight? I'm not whipping my dick out in public! Oh my god, you don't have some sort of exhibitionist kink, do you?"
Ronon rolled his eyes at Rodney. "You really want me to stop, McKay?"
"No, no, no, no, not stop!" Rodney said. He let go of Ronon's shirt and gestured with his hands. "Well, not completely, more like a pause for relocation. My quarters or yours? Mine has the excellent mattress, but there is a certain-"
"Mine, so we can stop by the mess," Ronon said, stepping away from Rodney.
"Fine," Rodney said, trying to make himself presentable, or at least not obviously about ten seconds away from being fucked against a wall. "Yours is good - what? Why do you want to go to the mess now?"
"I want a sandwich," Ronon said, starting up towards the mess and his quarters. Of course he didn't need to straighten up, the man looked like he was about to have sex all the time.
Rodney gaped at him. "You've got to be kidding me. Do you actually want to stop sex for a snack break?"
"I'm hungry. And you will be too when we're done," Ronon said, looking back. "C'mon, McKay."
Rodney scooped up the laptop (thank god for the special combat duty grade) and hurried after him. "Well then we'll go to the mess afterwards. And don't tell me you don't have food stashed in your room. Anyways, they say nothing athletic within a half hour of eating in order to aid digestion and, judging from empirical evidence, I'd say sex with you would defiantly qualify as athletic. And I'd like to be able to enjoy that without stomach cramps. Not to mention all this is already athletic because I have to run after you. Will you slow down?"
"Jesus, McKay. Stop going on about your intestinal health or I'll shoot you before we even get to the sex."
"Do you even know who Jesus is? And please, like you would shoot me before the chance for a blowjob. And I know you won't think of shooting me afterwards."
Ronon looked pained. "The Marines use the word a lot. Will you shut up if we have sex now?" he asked, voice deep from irritation instead of arousal.
Rodney flapped his hands, "Umm, I've been known to be rather vocal during fornication; however, that is vocal and not verbal. But ah, I'll eagerly stop talking about the gastro-intestinal system if it means sex right now."
Ronon made a sound that either meant he was very turned on or very irritated or even both at once. Honestly, Rodney didn't care which it was as long as the next activity was fucking.
***
Rodney took two steps into Ronon's quarters and froze. Just what was he doing? It was a bad, bad, bad idea; he knew he didn’t do the casual thing too well. Spectacularly bomb it would be more precise. The walk over had cooled him down, and had brought unwelcome clarity to his lust-addled thoughts.
Ronon placed his muffin on his desk --Rodney had lost that argument but by god he wasn't going to skulk in the entryway of the mess waiting until Ronon fixed a sandwich-- and shucked his shirt before looking back at Rodney. "Having second thoughts, McKay?" he asked and grinned wolfishly over his shoulder.
Rodney took a breath, and then another. On the other hand, Ronon was offering. He let out a shaky breath and stepped closer to Ronon, one hand reaching up to hesitantly trace the largest scar along Ronon' s spine. Ronon watched his movements with dark eyes.
"Can't really feel anything when you do that," Ronon said, voice low. "Too much scar tissue, Doctor Beckett said."
Rodney brought both of his hands to span Ronon's lower ribcage, feeling each breath expand his chest. The series of scars from the Runner devices were the largest ones, but by no means the only. But it was the feel of hard muscle under soft skin that had Rodney fascinated. He brought his hands together so his thumbs met in the dip of Ronon's spine, his fingers outstretched over Ronon's back. Rodney drew both thumbs hard down his back, from the end of the Runner device scars to the base of his spine, straight down, stopping right above the cleft of his ass.
Ronon shuddered against Rodney's hands and turned with a low noise to place his hands on either side of Rodney's face and pull him in for a bruising kiss, his fingers pressing deeply into the back of Rodney's neck. Hot, wet and sloppy as Ronon sucked on his lower lip; it was the fiercest kiss Rodney had ever had. He was dimly aware of Ronon walking them over to the bed. The back of his knees hit the bed and Rodney fell backwards on to the mattress. "Hey, watch it," Rodney muttered, too sex drunk to really make an issue out of being tossed around, especially when Ronon kneeled between his legs and started unbuttoning his pants for the second time that night.
Rodney's last coherent thoughts, ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod, were cut off as Ronon enthusiastically swallowed him down.
***
Afterwards, once the afterglow had well, glowed twice and then glowed out, Rodney freaked. Nervousness won out over sated languish as he circumspectly gathered the sheets around him. Ronon had gotten up, presumably to fetch something to clean them up with, and Rodney didn't know if this was his cue to leave or settle in for the night or leave and get his toothbrush and pajamas and then come back and settle in for the night.
To leave or not? He didn't really want to; it was nice falling asleep against another warm body. The thought of leaving was a whole other reminder of why he didn't do casual buddy sex, it both made him want to stay and run the hell out. He awkwardly sat up and swung his legs over the bed, but Ronon came back into the room and tossed him a damp wash cloth.
"Where you going?" Ronon asked.
"I, uh… was just going to um," Rodney said as he cleaned himself off awkwardly under the sheets. "Well, I figured you'd want to get to sleep and so do I so -" Rodney cut off his words as a Ronon pulled him in and nuzzled him where neck turned to shoulder.
"You people always run off after sex?" Ronon chuckled, "After good sex?"
"Well, it's ah… a certain subset of the population dislikes continuing sexual intimacy after climax. I'm not uh, actually in that category, although I wouldn't go so far as to say I like to cuddle. But it means there's no way of knowing if affection is timed only for coitus, not that affection might be the right term, and the other party wants one to skedaddle afterwards, or if it includes the post-"
"McKay. Shut up and go to sleep," Ronon said and lay down beside him.
"But, I uh…that is to say, um… Okay." This might be the only time, and well, he'd enjoy it for all it was worth and for once he'd try not to ruin it with talking. At least not ruin this night. He half-heartedly lobbed the washcloth in the direction of the bathroom and lay down with his back to Ronon. He wriggled around a bit, getting comfortable, but he couldn't relax.
Rodney huffed out a breath and was about to ask if this was the only time, but then Ronon draped an arm around him and pulled him close, breathing softly into the nape of his neck. And Rodney didn't ask, because right now he didn't want to know or think about when this moment would end.
##
Author: wicked_socks
Rating: adult
Paring: Rodney/Ronon
For: the lovely trixiesfic. Happy Holidays!
Summary: Rodney wants what he can't have, can't have outside of his mind at least.
Betaed by zabbers, the zabtastic. Thanks hon!
Tomorrow, or the day after, Rodney will see Ronon going down to the gym. Or maybe he will hear Lorne or Sheppard mention how he's got an appointment to have his ass kicked. And Rodney will smile, bide his time (he can be a patient man in the right circumstances), and when two hours have passed he'll make his way down to the gym where Ronon should be alone. The other men will have already left for the showers by that point; it's the last chance to get lunch before the mess closes for a few hours to prepare dinner.
Rodney will step in and lock the door from the inside before turning back to Ronon who will be in need of a shower, but Rodney will be too turned on to complain or care. Ronon, quick witted when he wants to be, will have already shucked his shirt and will be standing there in his leather trousers, leather wristbands, and his assortment of necklaces.
Rodney will step close, into Ronon's space, and place his hands on the hot, damp skin of Ronon's hips, fingers wandering over firm muscle and soft skin. Rodney's gaze will go unfocused then, eyes sliding half shut, mouth open and breathing slightly irregular. Ronon will chuckle, the sound resonating deep within his chest, and Rodney will feel it as much as hear it, his body flush against Ronon.
He will trail his fingers up Ronon's sides, sliding along hot sweat-slicked skin, until his hands are squeezing Ronon's hefty biceps. He'll feel the ripple of muscle as Ronon moves, mirroring Rodney's first actions. Hands to Rodney's hips, Ronon will slide his hands over Rodney's slight belly, fingers teasingly dipping below his waistband, before sneaking under Rodney's shirt.
He'll run push the shirt up as his hands move, touch surprisingly light for such strong hands, but still sending shivers through Rodney at the raspy feel of calluses or the edge of nails against his sides. He'll relinquish his hold on Ronon to lose the shirt, and flail a bit to get the shirt off, for Ronon's hands would have stopped assisting him in order to skim down Rodney's back, sliding smoothly down his spine, and firmly grab his ass.
Rodney will moan, biting at Ronon's jaw as his hands fly down to undo Ronon's belt. Rodney'll never know what the fuck is going on with the ties and laces of Ronon's leather pants; he won't bother with that, just press his hand against Ronon's cock, and rub, hard, back and forth, fascinated by the feel of an erection straining against supple leather. Groaning, Ronon will haul Rodney closer, trapping his hand between them, but Rodney won't care about that, won't care about beard burn, because it'll be all hot wet mouth, slick tongue, and the edge of teeth as they kiss and grind against each other.
It'll be sublime, but Rodney will want more, much more. He'll want to drop to his knees, just drop to the cold hard floor, and mouth Ronon's thick dick. He'll want Ronon to get the fucking pants out of the way already, jerk them down slim muscular hips. And he'll want to bury his face in the dark crinkly hair and inhale his musky scent, before moving back and licking and sucking with obscene slurpy sounds to his heart's content. He'll feel it through his hands, gripping Ronon's thighs for stability, the muscles twitching as Ronon forces his knees not to buckle.
Rodney will want to feel the ache in his jaw, the burn in his throat when he swallows around Ronon's dick. He will want to feel the soft skin of Ronon's balls against his tongue, sucking them gently into his mouth and he'll want, he'll want…
He will want, alright. Oh, will he ever want. Right now, right here. But he won't get it except for in his mind, will he?
So for now, Rodney grasped his own cock, sliding his hand up and down, palming over the head, and gasping into his arm lying over his face. He fucked his fist, quick and fast, hips jerking off the bed, and came with a groan, all the while thinking about sucking cock, Ronon's thick hard cock.
***
Rodney had been fantasizing about Ronon since the man's third day on Atlantis. One glance at the man tossing Marines like twigs (and boy, he had never thought violence could be this hot) and Rodney was caught between beating a swift retreat to spank the monkey, or staying to watch and later beat a swift retreat for the same purpose.
He never did come on to Ronon though. The significant level of physical intimidation probably had something to do with it. Sure, it was hot when Ronon tackled Marines, but the thought of being jumped on for reasons other than sex and getting his face smashed into the ground did not make Rodney McKay all hot and bothered. He liked his face in once piece, his kidneys undamaged, and his spleen not ruptured, thank you very much.
That was the nice thing about Samantha Carter, if Rodney pinched her ass she might slap him, but she'd never pull knives out of her hair and lick them in a suggestively psychopathic manner. Ronon on the other hand would lick and caress bloody knives and that was just during lunches of rare almost-yak-but-with-six-legs which always brought out his not so inner caveman.
Rodney did seriously rethink this position once. It was while one Lucius Lavin was in Atlantis and Rodney flying higher than a kite. When Ronon held him up against the wall until Lucius's pheromones took effect, Rodney felt his terrified hysteria with detached acknowledgement of the sexual nature of their position change until he was only vaguely worried and quite a bit more turned on.
Rodney was mostly fixated on Lucius the whole day, but he found himself overtly watching Ronon. But after the third time Ronon caught his eye, he didn't just grin at Rodney, he also winked at him. Then he winked at Zelenka, Teyla, and Lucius. But before Rodney could tear himself from Lucius's side to see if his wink meant something and so some good could come of the drug's effects, the Colonel stole Carson, and then he stole Lucius, and Rodney experienced a crashing return to reality with the jab of a needle. Like the entire Atlantis, except for Sheppard, he resolved never to speak or think of his Lucius infatuated days again. He was so eager to repress the memory of Lucius it was easy to deny he had ever mooned over Ronon in public.
***
Rescuing Sheppard from Kolya and the Wraith was, while a success, a miserably anticlimactic ending to a hellish day. Between the earlier pointless mission and the mission (really more of a pick up) that saved Sheppard, Rodney felt twitchy with unused adrenaline. Sheppard was in much the same boat; the Wraith had given him back youth, hair (not that he needed more), and a fair bit of energy, but Carson was keeping him in the infirmary for observation and bloodletting. So, as a long suffering friend, Rodney let Sheppard convince him to play poker. He lost three dessert rations and his Friday night rights to Life of Brian before Carson took pity on his losing streak and told Sheppard he could go running with Ronon. The Colonel left so quickly he never ate his jello cup. Jogging over jello… obviously he was a very ill man. So Rodney took his unappreciated dessert and went down to the labs. Sheppard was a good friend, but this was jello.
He sat at his desk with his laptop, typing with one hand and slurping straight from the jello cup. But the jello was gone too quickly; the brand name was always stingier with their portion sizes than the larger generic store brand, yet whoever had imported this hadn't thought of that. Rodney stood up and went to check the communal science snack cabinet which was unsurprisingly empty except for some of those awfully bitter Athosian crackers, an empty powerbar box, and a few stray wrappers. He grumbled about moocher scientists and not respecting lab space and went back to his desk.
But he couldn't manage to get comfortable. The seat of the stool was hard and unforgiving, and it wobbled as Rodney jiggled his leg while he thought. Rodney got up again and switched his stool for Radek's, appropriating the Athosian pillow on it as well. That got him through Simpson's test results on the Ancient device scavenged from PX6-358, and half way through Zelenka's evaluations of the temporary personnel from the Daedalus, but then he got antsy again.
Fine, if he was going to be utterly useless at work because of Sheppard, then he might as well go bother him. So Rodney grabbed his laptop and headed off to the infirmary.
***
Rodney turned the corner and smacked straight into someone. His face connected with a sweat damp chest, his legs nearly tangled with the other person, and his laptop hit the floor with a dull thud. Strong hands grasped his shoulders, halting his stumble and holding him steady. Rodney flailed until he regained his equilibrium, heart jumping with surprise. "What where the hell you… oh." He took a breath, and then another ragged on, "Um, Ronon. Hello." He swallowed nervously; he was just a few inches away from being embraced by Ronon in a disturbingly harlequin manner, and, although no damsel in distress, he was finding the firm grasp of large hands on his shoulders as he stood almost chest to chest with Ronon quite hot. He realized he had grabbed Ronon for balance and he yanked his hands away guiltily.
Ronon grinned at him, a flash of white teeth. "McKay. Ever look up when you walk?" He asked, not letting go or stepping back as most people would.
"Do I? You're the one barreling though like a loose train!" Rodney huffed as he jerked back out of Ronon's grasp. "And I hope you're going to shower because you smell." Although, if Rodney had to admit it to himself Ronon's scent was more arousing than disgusting; he'd had too many fantasies that started rather like this for it not to be.
Ronon just shrugged at Rodney. "Went for a run with Sheppard," he said. He let go and stepped back, regarding Rodney under thick brows for a moment before moving away and picking up the laptop from where it had slid into the corner. His worn linen pants slipped to bare a line of skin as he bent down.
Rodney swallowed hard. He shook his head slightly to chase lingering thoughts away and snapped his fingers at Ronon. "Give me that. I bet you broke the screen when you rammed into me, Paul Bunyan."
"Looks fine," Ronon said, looking at the screen of the laptop. He tilted his head, "Isn't this that card game Weir is always playing? Recluse or something?"
Rodney grabbed the laptop from him. "The game is Solitaire and I was using it for scientific purposes, not that it's any of your business or that you would understand. Now get out of my way. I was going to go visit Sheppard."
"Can't," Ronon said.
"What? What do you mean I can't - oh. You mean Carson kicked you and the Colonel's simpering visitors out. Crap. Well, maybe he'll let me - Do you mind? You're kinda blocking the hallway here." Rodney wasn't about to try to shove Ronon out of the way. That could only end embarrassingly. He snapped his fingers at the other man. "Scoot."
"Sheppard's asleep. Carson said you can only go in if it's to take a sedative and go to sleep."
"I don't need to sleep. I need to be able to sit down and work," Rodney gripped. "I never thought I'd say this in terms of physical exertion, but that mission was rather unsatisfying."
"Want to relieve some tension?" Ronon asked, giving him a considering look.
"Huh? What do you mean? Never mind, I'm sure it'd involve crippling me with alien martial arts. You know, I sometimes wonder if Bruce Lee came from your planet," Rodney said.
Ronon moved closer to Rodney. "Seen you lookin' at me, McKay."
Rodney could feel his heart rate leap and his face flush even as his brain stuttered over the conversational 180. "What? I uh, keep close over my team, always observe them." He took an unsteady breath, and then a few nervous swallows, as having Ronon look him like that did things to his body. "Right, that's me, Mr. Observant And Thus Looking, but not "looking." I mean, I, uh, see how such a miscommunication over "looking" could take place," he said as he sketched the air quotes with one hand. "But I uh, I assure you it was not meant-" His voice took a sudden jump to a high pitch as Ronon fisted Rodney's shirt in one hand, hauling him closer, and reached down and cupped between his legs with the other. Rodney's half hard cock twitched against his hand even as the rest of him froze in indignant surprise for a moment.
"What, you… no! No, no, no, get your hand… unhand me this instant! Personal space bubble!" Rodney indignantly shrieked, dropping the laptop (thank god for spares) as he tried to pull himself back, away from Ronon's grasp, but gently as there was a rather intimate grip on his privates. It felt nice, god, it felt excellent, but where the… why was? It's not like he'd ever… "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"What I want to do," Ronon said, grinning, the tip of his tongue showing between his teeth, and he squeezed lightly.
"What you - uhhhh" Rodney involuntarily groaned at the feel of Ronon's hands on him, eyelids flickering down for a moment before he remembered he was in a public hallway being groped by a guy who had never looked at him twice and he snapped out of it. "What?! You've never given an indication of - What brought this - oh. Okay, fine I get it. I'm sure you think this is very funny, you've got me, now get your hand off my dick!" Rodney said, pissed off and mortified. He had his hands around Ronon's fistful of his shirt, trying to tug it free, hoping he wouldn't have to do some similar lower down tug of war.
Ronon stepped forward, crowding Rodney back against the wall, pinning Rodney simply by leaning against him, trapping his hands between their chests. Rodney could feel the heat rising in his face as his body responded to the position. He could feel Ronon's hard-on against his belly and for a moment he could do nothing but boggle at the surreal situation. Fuck, was he actually refusing sex with the man the entire expedition lusted after?
As Rodney froze against the wall, Ronon untangled his hand from Rodney's shirt and suddenly lax grip. He ran his hand up the side of Rodney's neck, cupping his jaw, the tips of his fingers brushing the hair at the nape of Rodney's neck. "I asked you if you wanted to relieve some tension," Ronon's voice rumbled. "Keep up, will you?"
"I thought you were going to, sarcastically, mind you, invite me to the gym! Not grab me by the dick!" Rodney hissed, although he wasn't even sure what he was protesting anymore. "And that is the worst euphemism ever, how do you expect - mmmph!" Ronon had moved his hand to the back of Rodney's neck and pulled him forward into a kiss, muffling Rodney's words with his lips, his whiskers tickling Rodney's face, his hips grinding against Rodney's and his hand.
Rodney had a moment of oh shit, what's he - oh my god he's kissing me, he's kissing me, before he just decided to go with it. After all it was Ronon kissing him. His hands grasped Ronon's shirt, hanging on, kissing, licking, and biting back for all he was worth, but continuing the conversation with raged breaths between kisses. "Since when? Couldn't you say something like normal people? This ahhhh, really isn't a good idea. Oh that's really nice, keep doing that. Well, makes sense in a twisted way. You always do prefer to act rather than talk. Still, a warning would be nice. Also, for the record we are still in the hallway."
Somewhere along the line, Ronon's hands had unbuttoned his pants, and Rodney jerked his mouth away from Ronon to pant harshly into his shoulder, "You know we, uhhh, we're in the hall, Ronon!" He bit his lip to keep from moaning too loudly as Ronon stroked him through his boxers. "We're in the fucking open and I am not going to have sex against a wall in a public hallway! Even if it is with you!"
Ronon flexed his hips and Rodney nearly crossed his eyes at the wave of pleasure. "The hallway's empty," Ronon said. "Night patrol doesn't come through here."
"It's sex against a wall; I'd slip a disk for sure. Plus it's really not helping my sciatica. Have I mentioned we're also in plain sight? I'm not whipping my dick out in public! Oh my god, you don't have some sort of exhibitionist kink, do you?"
Ronon rolled his eyes at Rodney. "You really want me to stop, McKay?"
"No, no, no, no, not stop!" Rodney said. He let go of Ronon's shirt and gestured with his hands. "Well, not completely, more like a pause for relocation. My quarters or yours? Mine has the excellent mattress, but there is a certain-"
"Mine, so we can stop by the mess," Ronon said, stepping away from Rodney.
"Fine," Rodney said, trying to make himself presentable, or at least not obviously about ten seconds away from being fucked against a wall. "Yours is good - what? Why do you want to go to the mess now?"
"I want a sandwich," Ronon said, starting up towards the mess and his quarters. Of course he didn't need to straighten up, the man looked like he was about to have sex all the time.
Rodney gaped at him. "You've got to be kidding me. Do you actually want to stop sex for a snack break?"
"I'm hungry. And you will be too when we're done," Ronon said, looking back. "C'mon, McKay."
Rodney scooped up the laptop (thank god for the special combat duty grade) and hurried after him. "Well then we'll go to the mess afterwards. And don't tell me you don't have food stashed in your room. Anyways, they say nothing athletic within a half hour of eating in order to aid digestion and, judging from empirical evidence, I'd say sex with you would defiantly qualify as athletic. And I'd like to be able to enjoy that without stomach cramps. Not to mention all this is already athletic because I have to run after you. Will you slow down?"
"Jesus, McKay. Stop going on about your intestinal health or I'll shoot you before we even get to the sex."
"Do you even know who Jesus is? And please, like you would shoot me before the chance for a blowjob. And I know you won't think of shooting me afterwards."
Ronon looked pained. "The Marines use the word a lot. Will you shut up if we have sex now?" he asked, voice deep from irritation instead of arousal.
Rodney flapped his hands, "Umm, I've been known to be rather vocal during fornication; however, that is vocal and not verbal. But ah, I'll eagerly stop talking about the gastro-intestinal system if it means sex right now."
Ronon made a sound that either meant he was very turned on or very irritated or even both at once. Honestly, Rodney didn't care which it was as long as the next activity was fucking.
***
Rodney took two steps into Ronon's quarters and froze. Just what was he doing? It was a bad, bad, bad idea; he knew he didn’t do the casual thing too well. Spectacularly bomb it would be more precise. The walk over had cooled him down, and had brought unwelcome clarity to his lust-addled thoughts.
Ronon placed his muffin on his desk --Rodney had lost that argument but by god he wasn't going to skulk in the entryway of the mess waiting until Ronon fixed a sandwich-- and shucked his shirt before looking back at Rodney. "Having second thoughts, McKay?" he asked and grinned wolfishly over his shoulder.
Rodney took a breath, and then another. On the other hand, Ronon was offering. He let out a shaky breath and stepped closer to Ronon, one hand reaching up to hesitantly trace the largest scar along Ronon' s spine. Ronon watched his movements with dark eyes.
"Can't really feel anything when you do that," Ronon said, voice low. "Too much scar tissue, Doctor Beckett said."
Rodney brought both of his hands to span Ronon's lower ribcage, feeling each breath expand his chest. The series of scars from the Runner devices were the largest ones, but by no means the only. But it was the feel of hard muscle under soft skin that had Rodney fascinated. He brought his hands together so his thumbs met in the dip of Ronon's spine, his fingers outstretched over Ronon's back. Rodney drew both thumbs hard down his back, from the end of the Runner device scars to the base of his spine, straight down, stopping right above the cleft of his ass.
Ronon shuddered against Rodney's hands and turned with a low noise to place his hands on either side of Rodney's face and pull him in for a bruising kiss, his fingers pressing deeply into the back of Rodney's neck. Hot, wet and sloppy as Ronon sucked on his lower lip; it was the fiercest kiss Rodney had ever had. He was dimly aware of Ronon walking them over to the bed. The back of his knees hit the bed and Rodney fell backwards on to the mattress. "Hey, watch it," Rodney muttered, too sex drunk to really make an issue out of being tossed around, especially when Ronon kneeled between his legs and started unbuttoning his pants for the second time that night.
Rodney's last coherent thoughts, ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod, were cut off as Ronon enthusiastically swallowed him down.
***
Afterwards, once the afterglow had well, glowed twice and then glowed out, Rodney freaked. Nervousness won out over sated languish as he circumspectly gathered the sheets around him. Ronon had gotten up, presumably to fetch something to clean them up with, and Rodney didn't know if this was his cue to leave or settle in for the night or leave and get his toothbrush and pajamas and then come back and settle in for the night.
To leave or not? He didn't really want to; it was nice falling asleep against another warm body. The thought of leaving was a whole other reminder of why he didn't do casual buddy sex, it both made him want to stay and run the hell out. He awkwardly sat up and swung his legs over the bed, but Ronon came back into the room and tossed him a damp wash cloth.
"Where you going?" Ronon asked.
"I, uh… was just going to um," Rodney said as he cleaned himself off awkwardly under the sheets. "Well, I figured you'd want to get to sleep and so do I so -" Rodney cut off his words as a Ronon pulled him in and nuzzled him where neck turned to shoulder.
"You people always run off after sex?" Ronon chuckled, "After good sex?"
"Well, it's ah… a certain subset of the population dislikes continuing sexual intimacy after climax. I'm not uh, actually in that category, although I wouldn't go so far as to say I like to cuddle. But it means there's no way of knowing if affection is timed only for coitus, not that affection might be the right term, and the other party wants one to skedaddle afterwards, or if it includes the post-"
"McKay. Shut up and go to sleep," Ronon said and lay down beside him.
"But, I uh…that is to say, um… Okay." This might be the only time, and well, he'd enjoy it for all it was worth and for once he'd try not to ruin it with talking. At least not ruin this night. He half-heartedly lobbed the washcloth in the direction of the bathroom and lay down with his back to Ronon. He wriggled around a bit, getting comfortable, but he couldn't relax.
Rodney huffed out a breath and was about to ask if this was the only time, but then Ronon draped an arm around him and pulled him close, breathing softly into the nape of his neck. And Rodney didn't ask, because right now he didn't want to know or think about when this moment would end.
##