wesleysgirl (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wesleysgirl) wrote2006-09-08 08:09 pm
wesleysgirl) wrote2006-09-08 08:09 pm
Entry tags:
Ronon ficlet 3
Dex/Sheppard ficlet; follows pts 1 and 2. Spoilers for "Common Ground." NC-17.
"You're making too much noise," Ronon growls, tightening his hands on Sheppard's hips and pushing into him again.
Sheppard groans. His head's hanging down, the back of his neck pale and vulnerable to Ronon's eyes.
He looks away. That's not what he wants from him and Sheppard together; he doesn't want to see the things about Sheppard that are weak, breakable. He can't think about that. What he needs -- what he loves -- are Sheppard's cocky grin, the way he runs into a fight without hesitating, the firm, unyielding grip of his hand on Ronon's arm when he expects something from him.
It doesn't matter what it is. Ronon will always give it to him.
"Fuck," Sheppard gasps, and Ronon grins. That, too.
"Come here." He wraps an arm around Sheppard's chest and pulls him up and back, mouthing at the side of his neck. Ronon fucks like he does everything else -- unrelentingly and without much attention to what the people around him are doing. Sheppard's the first, the only, exception, and Ronon shudders when he remembers what it had felt like to watch him being taken away piece by piece, the life sucked from him.
Sheppard gasps again. "Easy," he says, a warning, and Ronon realizes he's holding him too tightly.
"Sorry," he mutters into the soft hair at the back of Sheppard's neck.
"Don't be," Sheppard says. "Don't be sorry." He means more than just the sex; Ronon can hear it in his voice, can feel it when he slides his hand down to Sheppard's cock and tugs as his balls. "Yeah, like... like that. Jesus, Ronon..."
It's a curse, Ronon knows that much by the way the earth people use it, but when Sheppard says it like that it sounds more like a caress. It gets to Ronon's dick every time. He comes with his hips rolling like the sea, biting down on Sheppard's neck to stifle the long groan that tears at his throat. The backs of Sheppard's thighs feel soft against the fronts of his, and Ronon shuts his eyes, unable to stop himself, in that one moment, from wishing for a peaceful life he'll never have.
"You're making too much noise," Ronon growls, tightening his hands on Sheppard's hips and pushing into him again.
Sheppard groans. His head's hanging down, the back of his neck pale and vulnerable to Ronon's eyes.
He looks away. That's not what he wants from him and Sheppard together; he doesn't want to see the things about Sheppard that are weak, breakable. He can't think about that. What he needs -- what he loves -- are Sheppard's cocky grin, the way he runs into a fight without hesitating, the firm, unyielding grip of his hand on Ronon's arm when he expects something from him.
It doesn't matter what it is. Ronon will always give it to him.
"Fuck," Sheppard gasps, and Ronon grins. That, too.
"Come here." He wraps an arm around Sheppard's chest and pulls him up and back, mouthing at the side of his neck. Ronon fucks like he does everything else -- unrelentingly and without much attention to what the people around him are doing. Sheppard's the first, the only, exception, and Ronon shudders when he remembers what it had felt like to watch him being taken away piece by piece, the life sucked from him.
Sheppard gasps again. "Easy," he says, a warning, and Ronon realizes he's holding him too tightly.
"Sorry," he mutters into the soft hair at the back of Sheppard's neck.
"Don't be," Sheppard says. "Don't be sorry." He means more than just the sex; Ronon can hear it in his voice, can feel it when he slides his hand down to Sheppard's cock and tugs as his balls. "Yeah, like... like that. Jesus, Ronon..."
It's a curse, Ronon knows that much by the way the earth people use it, but when Sheppard says it like that it sounds more like a caress. It gets to Ronon's dick every time. He comes with his hips rolling like the sea, biting down on Sheppard's neck to stifle the long groan that tears at his throat. The backs of Sheppard's thighs feel soft against the fronts of his, and Ronon shuts his eyes, unable to stop himself, in that one moment, from wishing for a peaceful life he'll never have.
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