Fic: In the Lonely Darkness
Title: In the Lonely Darkness
Author: skandrae
Recipient: infinimato
Pairing: Ronon/Teyla, John
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Teyla and Ronon at least had the enzyme to blame for their behaviour. All he had was lust...
Author's Notes: Set during 2x10 Lost Boys. I'm not sure if it's exactly what you were looking for, infinimato, but I did my darndest. It's very late, I know, but it's done. Special thanks to reposoir for an outstanding beta at very short notice.
John Sheppard stalked through the rough passageways toward the cavern Ford had assigned his team as their own. McKay had stayed behind in the lab with the blond guy, Jace, presumably going over minor details of the operating system. John was impatient.
Both plans, his and Ford's, were stupid, yes, but they had to make a move sooner or later. And since McKay had finally gotten the dart operational, it looked like 'sooner' meant 'tomorrow morning'. He needed to prepare Teyla and Ronon. He turned down the short corridor that lead to 'their' cave.
"You will have to do better than that, Ronon."
It was Teyla's voice, but John had never heard it sound quite like that before. Low and husky, it was teasing, but there was an undercurrent of warning there, too.
Ronon growled something that might have been words, and Teyla gasped.
John's throat still ached from Ronon's earlier attack, and he worried that his enzyme-raddled teammate didn't know his own strength. If Teyla and Ronon were heading toward Round Two, he figured he should put a stop to it. He neared the doorway, drawing in his breath to yell...
Only to be shocked speechless by the scene in front of him.
Teyla's back was to the wall, head tipped back and thick hair spilling over her shoulders and brushing over her breasts. Her very naked breasts. He had often (during endless debriefings and meetings with Weir) imagined Teyla topless, particularly in that blue shirt with the laces, but the reality was far more beautiful than he had imagined. Taut and firm, with lovely dark nipples, they rose and fell with each inhalation. Her fingers were knotted in Ronon's hair, which, as it turned out, was about level with her...
Okay, he thought. Not fighting.
Ronon was just going to town on her, if her breathless gasps were any indication. His hands wrapped around her buttocks, stroking and squeezing, occasionally drifting up and around to pay her breasts (her very naked breasts) the same tribute. Her fingers slipped from his hair to his shoulders, and John noticed for the first time that Ronon, while still wearing pants, was shirtless.
How long has this been going on? he wondered. Now that he was paying attention, he could see that Ronon's torso was covered in scratch-marks, and Teyla's breasts and thighs were covered in bruises that didn't look like any training injuries he'd ever received.
Ronon worked his way up her body, pausing at each breast to suck at her nipples before pulling her flush against him and kissing her. He worked his muscular thigh between hers, and she rocked against him, fingers digging into his shoulders. She came with a muffled cry, trembling all over.
I shouldn't be here, John thought, gaze never leaving their mouths.
When they finally broke off the kiss, Ronon said, "Well?"
"You are quite good," Teyla admitted. He smiled widely, perhaps even a touch smugly. "But I am better," she said, pushing him suddenly. He stumbled back against the table.
Her fingers moved too fast for John to follow as she unlaced Ronon's pants and pushed them down. John tried again to convince himself to leave, but found himself watching as Teyla licked along the length of Ronon's cock and swallowed him down. Ronon gasped, Teyla purred, and John's belly tightened with sudden jealousy. Well, jealousy and arousal.
He understood the arousal, but wasn't sure where the jealousy came from. Did he envy Ronon, as Teyla's mouth moved over him and her hands cupped his ass? He'd thought about it occasionally, when it was late and he was lonely... Or did he envy Teyla? Ronon's cock in her mouth, feeling such a powerful man tremble and moan above her? He'd thought of that, too, in the lonely darkness.
She did something then, and Ronon choked out her name as his body stiffened and his eyes closed. John could see her smirking as she swallowed and got to her feet. His uniform pants were uncomfortably tight.
"You see?" she murmured, brushing her lips against Ronon's ear. "Better."
He swatted her backside, growling. "Get on the bed."
She laughed, and it was the dirtiest sound John had ever heard. "You are not ready."
"I will be." She tossed her hair a bit, but crawled up on the small cot and put her back against the headboard. One of her hands dipped down and she stroked herself as Ronon undid his boots and removed his pants.
John's belly ached and his dick twitched as he watched the two of them. Teyla was languid and wanton, Ronon was demanding and intense, and John wanted to be in there with them. The hell with McKay, and Ford's stupid plan, and everybody back on Atlantis - he wanted what was in the room before him.
Ronon hadn't been idly boasting about being ready again. Apparently, super-fast recovery time was another bonus to taking the Wraith enzyme. At least, John hoped it was the Wraith-drug and not simply something common to Satedan males. There was only so much his Earth-born ego could take in a day.
There was a brief tussle at the head of the bed as they kissed. It was less a kiss than a struggle for dominance. Lips and tongue, yes, but there were teeth that nipped and bit savagely, too. John could see pink marks on Teyla's throat, scratches left by Ronon's beard as he kissed and bit her neck. She ran her fingers down his back, over skin already pinked and scratched, and squeezed his ass. He broke away from her mouth and bit her ear.
He whispered something, too low for John to hear, but her eyes darkened and her breathing became rough. "Is that so?" she murmured, grinning widely. She pushed him down on the bed and John was sure she was about to straddle him and ride him until they both collapsed. Instead, she knelt at the other end of the bed, facing away from Ronon.
The candlelight danced, drawing patterns of shadow and flame on her golden skin. He could see beads of sweat at her temples, her pebbled nipples, the crisp hair between her legs. John knew he should leave. It was invasive, improper, and just plain wrong for him to be watching them like this...particularly since he knew he'd end up using this as fantasy fodder for months. He wanted to touch, to taste them both, slick and golden under his fingers. Teyla and Ronon at least had the enzyme to blame for their behaviour. All he had was lust...
Ronon had risen to his knees behind Teyla, one hand slipping between her thighs to stroke the sensitive flesh there. She closed her eyes, slowly gyrating, as he gripped her hips and slowly began to enter her. Slow, so slow...barely moving at all. Inch by inch, John watched Ronon's cock slide into Teyla's eager flesh.
Again, that dual flash of envy. To sink into her depths, to be stretched and filled by his cock...He dropped his hand to the front of his pants, cupping his aching erection. Just that, that hint of pressure, was enough to make him tremble.
Ronon's hips bucked slightly, and they both gasped as he slid fully inside. They remained like that for a moment, their breathing the only sound in the room, and John knew that tableau would be permanently etched inside his eyelids.
Then Teyla pulled forward and ground back again. Ronon growled, squeezing her hips to hold her in place. He withdrew and thrust again, over and over, slowly increasing his speed until they were both panting. John squeezed his dick in time with Ronon's thrusts, no longer able to hold himself back.
Ronon roughly fondled Teyla's breasts, pinching at the nipples so she growled and bucked underneath him, before slipping his hands under her arms and gripping her shoulders. With every thrust, he pulled her tightly back against him, grinding deep. John could almost feel her skin under his hand, Ronon's hand on his collarbone. He stroked harder through the rough fabric of his BDUs. It had been so long since he had felt anyone else's touch, the press of an unfamiliar hand against his flesh, that just that small difference (fabric instead of skin) added to the experience.
Still kneeling, Teyla straightened her torso, changing the angle of penetration. Ronon groaned, and the sound went right to John's cock. He watched with half-closed eyes as Ronon plunged his hand into the crisp hair at Teyla's thighs, stroking the tight bundle of nerves. She moaned, hips rocking wildly. He continued to thrust rapidly, face buried at the curve where her neck met her shoulder, teeth bared on her flesh.
John could feel his control faltering, hot friction under his palm, and he was torn between wanting to stay in the moment forever and wanting to come now, thank you very much. Anyone could walk by at any moment and catch him jerking off while Teyla and Ronon fucked like animals, and he knew it should worry him more, but all he could focus on was the press of Ronon's fingers on Teyla's skin, the way she reached back and gripped the back of his neck.
Her breaths were sobs now, and she had one of her hands pressed firmly over his, holding his fingers where they pleased her most. His eyes rolled back in his head for a moment, and he pulled his lower lip between his teeth. He thrust roughly, once, twice, and she stiffened, muscles in her belly trembling. He stiffened in turn, grunting harshly against her neck. And John's cock spasmed under his strokes and painted hot whiteness against his belly.
He leaned back against the cool stone, panting. In a minute he'd get back to freaking out about what he had seen, what he had done. In a minute he'd get cleaned up and go back to the lab to make sure McKay didn't walk in and interrupt the two of them. For the moment, he simply stood there, still cupping his sensitive flesh and watching Teyla and Ronon come down together. He had compared them to lion cubs earlier, when they were fighting. The comparison seemed particularly apt now, as they curled against each other, sated and sleepy.
The passageway seemed darker than before.
Author: skandrae
Recipient: infinimato
Pairing: Ronon/Teyla, John
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Teyla and Ronon at least had the enzyme to blame for their behaviour. All he had was lust...
Author's Notes: Set during 2x10 Lost Boys. I'm not sure if it's exactly what you were looking for, infinimato, but I did my darndest. It's very late, I know, but it's done. Special thanks to reposoir for an outstanding beta at very short notice.
John Sheppard stalked through the rough passageways toward the cavern Ford had assigned his team as their own. McKay had stayed behind in the lab with the blond guy, Jace, presumably going over minor details of the operating system. John was impatient.
Both plans, his and Ford's, were stupid, yes, but they had to make a move sooner or later. And since McKay had finally gotten the dart operational, it looked like 'sooner' meant 'tomorrow morning'. He needed to prepare Teyla and Ronon. He turned down the short corridor that lead to 'their' cave.
"You will have to do better than that, Ronon."
It was Teyla's voice, but John had never heard it sound quite like that before. Low and husky, it was teasing, but there was an undercurrent of warning there, too.
Ronon growled something that might have been words, and Teyla gasped.
John's throat still ached from Ronon's earlier attack, and he worried that his enzyme-raddled teammate didn't know his own strength. If Teyla and Ronon were heading toward Round Two, he figured he should put a stop to it. He neared the doorway, drawing in his breath to yell...
Only to be shocked speechless by the scene in front of him.
Teyla's back was to the wall, head tipped back and thick hair spilling over her shoulders and brushing over her breasts. Her very naked breasts. He had often (during endless debriefings and meetings with Weir) imagined Teyla topless, particularly in that blue shirt with the laces, but the reality was far more beautiful than he had imagined. Taut and firm, with lovely dark nipples, they rose and fell with each inhalation. Her fingers were knotted in Ronon's hair, which, as it turned out, was about level with her...
Okay, he thought. Not fighting.
Ronon was just going to town on her, if her breathless gasps were any indication. His hands wrapped around her buttocks, stroking and squeezing, occasionally drifting up and around to pay her breasts (her very naked breasts) the same tribute. Her fingers slipped from his hair to his shoulders, and John noticed for the first time that Ronon, while still wearing pants, was shirtless.
How long has this been going on? he wondered. Now that he was paying attention, he could see that Ronon's torso was covered in scratch-marks, and Teyla's breasts and thighs were covered in bruises that didn't look like any training injuries he'd ever received.
Ronon worked his way up her body, pausing at each breast to suck at her nipples before pulling her flush against him and kissing her. He worked his muscular thigh between hers, and she rocked against him, fingers digging into his shoulders. She came with a muffled cry, trembling all over.
I shouldn't be here, John thought, gaze never leaving their mouths.
When they finally broke off the kiss, Ronon said, "Well?"
"You are quite good," Teyla admitted. He smiled widely, perhaps even a touch smugly. "But I am better," she said, pushing him suddenly. He stumbled back against the table.
Her fingers moved too fast for John to follow as she unlaced Ronon's pants and pushed them down. John tried again to convince himself to leave, but found himself watching as Teyla licked along the length of Ronon's cock and swallowed him down. Ronon gasped, Teyla purred, and John's belly tightened with sudden jealousy. Well, jealousy and arousal.
He understood the arousal, but wasn't sure where the jealousy came from. Did he envy Ronon, as Teyla's mouth moved over him and her hands cupped his ass? He'd thought about it occasionally, when it was late and he was lonely... Or did he envy Teyla? Ronon's cock in her mouth, feeling such a powerful man tremble and moan above her? He'd thought of that, too, in the lonely darkness.
She did something then, and Ronon choked out her name as his body stiffened and his eyes closed. John could see her smirking as she swallowed and got to her feet. His uniform pants were uncomfortably tight.
"You see?" she murmured, brushing her lips against Ronon's ear. "Better."
He swatted her backside, growling. "Get on the bed."
She laughed, and it was the dirtiest sound John had ever heard. "You are not ready."
"I will be." She tossed her hair a bit, but crawled up on the small cot and put her back against the headboard. One of her hands dipped down and she stroked herself as Ronon undid his boots and removed his pants.
John's belly ached and his dick twitched as he watched the two of them. Teyla was languid and wanton, Ronon was demanding and intense, and John wanted to be in there with them. The hell with McKay, and Ford's stupid plan, and everybody back on Atlantis - he wanted what was in the room before him.
Ronon hadn't been idly boasting about being ready again. Apparently, super-fast recovery time was another bonus to taking the Wraith enzyme. At least, John hoped it was the Wraith-drug and not simply something common to Satedan males. There was only so much his Earth-born ego could take in a day.
There was a brief tussle at the head of the bed as they kissed. It was less a kiss than a struggle for dominance. Lips and tongue, yes, but there were teeth that nipped and bit savagely, too. John could see pink marks on Teyla's throat, scratches left by Ronon's beard as he kissed and bit her neck. She ran her fingers down his back, over skin already pinked and scratched, and squeezed his ass. He broke away from her mouth and bit her ear.
He whispered something, too low for John to hear, but her eyes darkened and her breathing became rough. "Is that so?" she murmured, grinning widely. She pushed him down on the bed and John was sure she was about to straddle him and ride him until they both collapsed. Instead, she knelt at the other end of the bed, facing away from Ronon.
The candlelight danced, drawing patterns of shadow and flame on her golden skin. He could see beads of sweat at her temples, her pebbled nipples, the crisp hair between her legs. John knew he should leave. It was invasive, improper, and just plain wrong for him to be watching them like this...particularly since he knew he'd end up using this as fantasy fodder for months. He wanted to touch, to taste them both, slick and golden under his fingers. Teyla and Ronon at least had the enzyme to blame for their behaviour. All he had was lust...
Ronon had risen to his knees behind Teyla, one hand slipping between her thighs to stroke the sensitive flesh there. She closed her eyes, slowly gyrating, as he gripped her hips and slowly began to enter her. Slow, so slow...barely moving at all. Inch by inch, John watched Ronon's cock slide into Teyla's eager flesh.
Again, that dual flash of envy. To sink into her depths, to be stretched and filled by his cock...He dropped his hand to the front of his pants, cupping his aching erection. Just that, that hint of pressure, was enough to make him tremble.
Ronon's hips bucked slightly, and they both gasped as he slid fully inside. They remained like that for a moment, their breathing the only sound in the room, and John knew that tableau would be permanently etched inside his eyelids.
Then Teyla pulled forward and ground back again. Ronon growled, squeezing her hips to hold her in place. He withdrew and thrust again, over and over, slowly increasing his speed until they were both panting. John squeezed his dick in time with Ronon's thrusts, no longer able to hold himself back.
Ronon roughly fondled Teyla's breasts, pinching at the nipples so she growled and bucked underneath him, before slipping his hands under her arms and gripping her shoulders. With every thrust, he pulled her tightly back against him, grinding deep. John could almost feel her skin under his hand, Ronon's hand on his collarbone. He stroked harder through the rough fabric of his BDUs. It had been so long since he had felt anyone else's touch, the press of an unfamiliar hand against his flesh, that just that small difference (fabric instead of skin) added to the experience.
Still kneeling, Teyla straightened her torso, changing the angle of penetration. Ronon groaned, and the sound went right to John's cock. He watched with half-closed eyes as Ronon plunged his hand into the crisp hair at Teyla's thighs, stroking the tight bundle of nerves. She moaned, hips rocking wildly. He continued to thrust rapidly, face buried at the curve where her neck met her shoulder, teeth bared on her flesh.
John could feel his control faltering, hot friction under his palm, and he was torn between wanting to stay in the moment forever and wanting to come now, thank you very much. Anyone could walk by at any moment and catch him jerking off while Teyla and Ronon fucked like animals, and he knew it should worry him more, but all he could focus on was the press of Ronon's fingers on Teyla's skin, the way she reached back and gripped the back of his neck.
Her breaths were sobs now, and she had one of her hands pressed firmly over his, holding his fingers where they pleased her most. His eyes rolled back in his head for a moment, and he pulled his lower lip between his teeth. He thrust roughly, once, twice, and she stiffened, muscles in her belly trembling. He stiffened in turn, grunting harshly against her neck. And John's cock spasmed under his strokes and painted hot whiteness against his belly.
He leaned back against the cool stone, panting. In a minute he'd get back to freaking out about what he had seen, what he had done. In a minute he'd get cleaned up and go back to the lab to make sure McKay didn't walk in and interrupt the two of them. For the moment, he simply stood there, still cupping his sensitive flesh and watching Teyla and Ronon come down together. He had compared them to lion cubs earlier, when they were fighting. The comparison seemed particularly apt now, as they curled against each other, sated and sleepy.
The passageway seemed darker than before.