John smiled. He hadn't even thought of this to happen. Never had. And probably never would have if his buddy Ronon hadn't decided to get things started between them.
Yeah, right: Between them. The two soldiers. The two fighters. The two of the team. But worst: The two men.
John hadn't known what was happening, but in the course of the latest events there had been a feeling awakening in his body – and mind.
Yeah, he definitely was attracted to Ronon.
The long dreads, swinging around with every step he take, every move he made while attacking somebody – or something.
The wide neck with this fascinating tattoo right at a spot John would love to lick.
The sharp-edged features of his friend's face.
The full lips – an invitation to a wild, wet, male kiss.
The broad shoulders, the firm muscles spread all over the Satedan's body. The incredible well-built body.
All in all – to John Ronon had a smokin' hot body.
This wasn't the first time that Sheppard found himself observing another guy noticing his desirability. But what scared the hell out of John was the fact that it wasn't about jealousy. This time John didn't expect Ronon to go for a girl he chase after himself.
No, this time John's thoughts wander to the well-built body of his friend in another way.
He imagined Ronon kissing him, stroking him, hammering into his ass tough – a bit violent, just the way Ronon used to handle everything he came to contact with.
John imagined Ronon naked while sparring with him, while eating in the mess room, while sitting in a briefing, while wandering around through the woods on an off-world mission.
Several times he had even thought of Ronon while taking a shower stroking himself, feeling the arousal rush through his entire body.
He could feel the grip of Ronon's big hands around his cock, squeezing his balls tightly, running up and down his spine.
Within minutes John got himself close to the edge. The sound of Ronon's name on his lips was the only thing he focused on, when he came hard and fast.
It had all started two weeks ago: On a mission to a freakin' rainy planet. It should have been quite an easy mission: Go there, check out the place, look for trading partners or technologies they could have a use for, leave the planet.
Yeah, right. Like a plan like this would work, ever. Naturally it all went the way round. A rainier way. In the end the whole team ended up in the gate hall of Atlantis - wet and exhausted, shivering from the coldness of the damn rain.
On the planet itself had been a big and hookin' storm with plenty of rain all over the gate area. John had given instructions to rush in order to get back home as soon as possible. Nevertheless he has had the image of a nice, warm shower in his mind the whole time.
And then he had started wondering what it would be like, if there was another person joining him there. He had smirked by the picture of it.
First it was Teyla he had seen. Actually enjoyed seeing.
Then Rodney. Not a quarter as good as Teyla. No, definitely not.
And – save the best for last - there finally had been Ronon standing behind him, foaming him with soap. Then he had stepped forward, next to him and there was this great smile, Ronon leering at him.
But just in the other second John could feel a grip on his shoulder. And Ronon smiling at him. Albeit not in a wicked way the glance under the shower had been. But in addiction to the smile was the sparkle in his eyes.
Fascinating John. Attracting him.
At this point John had started to feel the prickle in his stomach every time he met Ronon.
At first he pretended not to notice it. Didn't work. Then he tried to ignore it. Wasn't an effective operation either. Three days later John decided to allow himself thinking about it. Allowed his thoughts to wander off every now and then. This did work, but for the risk of the team's safety when they were on a mission.
Hence he stopped it at the seventh day. Not really successful, but he was able to limit it on the time he was at Atlantis, in his more or less save quarters.
Ronon didn't miss the glances his team mate threw into his direction. Always pretending not to do so, military-trained. It didn't help, the Satedan saw them all. Every single time John felt unwatched, Ronon could feel his skin prickle by the long glances onto it. He couldn't help but smile. John's behaviour was seriously - sweet. Yeah, calling a guy's behaviour sweet wasn't the best thing to do, but for Ronon it felt just right.
He was game for anything, even sex with a male. There was nothing morbid with it. He used to serve his leader on Sateda. No big deal, just two men using another to receive salvation. Established in his culture, but apparently not in earth's. Ronon could handle that. The day would come. And morrow would be it.
It was the fourteenth day since the rainy mission. John had wakened feeling awkward and baffled. He felt miserable and tried to ease this feeling by taking a short shower. Thinking of Ronon, again. The short scheduled shower was turned into a long, cold one in order to stop it.
The sound of a knock at his door made John finally end the act of self-punishment. Dressed in nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips, John took the few steps from the bathroom to attend to the door.
The first thing he realized, his mind still wrapped in the clouds of the shower, was Ronon Dex standing in his usual dressings – leather pants, boots and a sleeveless shirt made of natural fabrics – looking surprisingly breathtaking hot to John's mind.
A long glance was shared. Neither one of them spoke for the first thirty seconds.
"Hey.", John was finally able to coerce his tongue to obey him.
"Hey yourself. I came by to ask, if you'd like to take a fight."
John remained silent. Just enjoying the view in front of him. Ronon doing exactly the same – but he was able to see much more of John's skin than John was able to see of his.
"So?", he asked impatiently.
"Sure, yah betcha. Never gonna miss a fight, yah know."
John fallowed his friend out of the room.
"Didn't you miss a thing?"
"I suppose you should get dressed first, or you gonna give the marines a show."
Noticing he still wore nothing but a towel, John turned around again in order to get dressed.
The fallowing comment of Ronon was out of his earshot: "Not that I wouldn't like to see that." The tall man smirked.
The sparring session had gone as well as the others before. Just a little more smiling from Ronon's side, enjoying the confusion spread all over the face of his friend. And a little more pouting on John's side, when he had lost the fight. As always.
John was surprised to feel pissed by losing. Sure, he had never been happy about it, but now… he was suddenly pissed, because his friend was stronger, more muscular - a better fighter. He felt like he had to proof himself to Ronon. How weird was that?
He tried to ignore that feeling and waving a goodbye to his buddy as usual.
Hours later Ronon had been standing in front of John's door the second time that day.
"You're up to some more physical strain?"
"What do you have in mind?"
"You'll see. So? You're up to it?"
Without saying anything in addiction to it, Ronon passed John and entered his buddy's quarters. He stopped in front of the king-sized bed.
"You gonna stand there 'til morning?"
John's eyes widened. Was Ronon proposing what he thought he just suggested? This couldn't be for real. He took a deep breath. Taking a step forward. His eyebrows up in disbelief.
Ronon was kidding, right?
A few seconds later John knew he wasn't. The Satedan's steps were large, enabling him to stand in front of John with only a few.
"I can feel the attraction you have to me, Sheppard."
John had to swallow hard.
"I know you want this. Just let go and let me do it to you."
There was a last bit of doubts at John's mind, he had to make sure that they were talking about the same thing.
"Do what exactly?"
"You know damn well, Colonel."
Another gulp at John's throat.
"You were dreaming about it, am I right?"
Ronon knew damn well what we spent the last two weeks with. Ronon Dex. He was his friend. His mate. His confidant. He could trust him, John knew that. But he was also his team mate. A person under his command. He could impossible fraternize with him without risking his team, his career, the Air Force.
Ronon noticed the doubts at John's face.
"I know the rules, John."
He did. He had asked Weir about the handbook of the US Air Force months ago. You'll never know when you'll need it. When was now.
"I know you'll talk yourself out of this. But don't. I wouldn't tell anyone. You know I wouldn't. Trust me, John."
A confident smile spread over the Satedan's face when he noticed John's doubts fade away one by one.
Another confident, happy smile.
This was when it all get started, or better, Ronon get the things started by touching John the first time.
John smiled by the touch. Ronon's hand on his ass felt even better than he had imagined in his shower-dreams. "Nice", he groaned.
"I'll be a lot nicer to you, trust me on that."
"I do. I always do, Ronon."
Ronon got the things started, but now John was meeting him halfway, turning into a passionate kiss. The feeling of male, raw lips on his own made him shiver. It was incredible.
Ronon was incredible. If he did believe in any god he would have thanked him for pushing Ronon straight into his arms. Where Ronon was just right now. Stroking his back, spine and shoulders with wide motions of his big hands. Leading the way right into the man's iliac region.
"Gaaawwwwddd. Keep doing this and I'll be coming right here in my pants."
The Satedan's hands left John's groin, leaving a magnificent hard on only rudimental hidden by his pants.
"You said so."
"I didn't mean to…"
"No, for crying out loud. Get your hands back on me. Now!"
"Can do this… later."
A disappointed sign escaped Sheppard's lips until he figured out what Ronon was about to do. The shirt was the first to hit the floor. The boots fallowed. Then Ronon started unzipping his trousers. Nice and slow.
John had to swallow, feeling his head blushing, although the blood was gauged in another part of his body by now.
"You're killing me here."
"No, I'll just make you feel like you were." A devilish smile could be seen on the tall man's face, exposing white teeth. By now the leather was down at his ankles. He stepped out of it, taking a step back towards the bed.
"Come here." Ronon said while lying down on the soft mattress.
Without a word John was on top of him. Groaning as their bodies met. This was great, he thought to himself.
The touching lead to kissing, the kissing lead to more touching, nibbling, licking, rubbing.
John felt like flying. With a fluent motion Ronon was on top, enjoying the other man's sounds.
But just at the second Ronon started sucking at John's ear a twitch went through Sheppard's body and he stiffened.
"You were already on it."
"I know, but I can't." His voice was flat. He tossed and turned in order to free from the other man's weight.
Ronon rolled over without a word.
As soon as possible John straightened up and came to sit at the edge of the bed.
"That is not exactly the edge I wanted you to be."
"I get it. You're not ready. I see the point. But I am sure of you being sure in a while."
"I'm sorry." John pulled a face. He should be able to act like a man here.
"Don't be." Ronon shrugged.
"Just come here." He let his arm stretch out in an invitational motion.
John looked at his friend doubtful.
"I guess lying beside you doesn't risk the team, doesn't it?"
So John moved back to the sheets, lying back against the mattress, just beside his friends. No touching at this point.
John still had his hard on, and so was Ronon. Without hesitation Ronon grasped at his own cock, stroking it lightly.
"I can. I won't do anything than come in my hand. It's only me. You can look if you'd like to."
He must be kidding again. And just as a few minutes before, he wasn't. Each stroke got him nearer to the edge. With every stroke his moaning became louder, teasing John, who stiffened beside his naked, aroused buddy. With every stroke he raised the pacing. With every stroke he took a harder grasp on his dick.
Driving John wild.
With a last grin spread in the direction of his friend Ronon ended his masturbation with a yelp.
"Fuck." Johns breath was nothing but a hiss.
"I would, but you won't let me, would you?"
"Have a go at it and I kill yah."
An eyebrow was raised.
Ronon rolled over to his side, facing Sheppard.
"I won't try. Mind if I get some rest?"
John did, but Ronon was already snoring. John couldn't help but smile.
"Do as you please."
His erection was still with him. Damn.
The next day the two of them avoided to see or to run across each other. So did they the day after. And the day after that one.
Ronon was certain John would take the first step back to him if he really wanted this. Wanted them.
Wanted to have a relationship based on mind-blowing sex and complete satisfaction of all his physical needs. And maybe even the emotional needs as well.
The Satedan had considered the Colonel as his best friend, mate and companion right from the start. And he assumed John would do the same. He would come back to his friend, team mate, and companion. And Ronon felt confident about calling him his lover soon.
For John this whole get-together-thing wasn't as easy as it was for the former runner.
He thought about it every day, hardly. Hour by hour passed during he spent most of his down time in his quarters thinking. There was no way he could deny his attraction to Ronon any longer.
He had to accept it as it was. Strong, profound, attendant.
He couldn't deny the joy he felt when Ronon's skin had met his, the touch, the kiss, the wonderful feeling of their lips locked.
His feelings were totally focused on Ronon and it didn't look like they would fade away anytime soon.
But his mind was still focused on everything he could lose, every damn thing he was about to risk. The Air Force, the military leadership at Atlantis, his friends, the team, and not at last the belief in his – so far never doubtable – heterosexuality.
John Sheppard was straight. Wasn't he?
So if it was that obvious, it shouldn't be a bitch to deny Ronon. It shouldn't, but to John it was.
After several days of thinking, arguing with himself, denying and seesaw changes John had finally come up with a decision.
Stepping towards the dark door John cleared his throat for a last time before he knocked at the cool metal. He could do this. He could act just like his friend did. Sure yah betcha. John Sheppard, Colonel of the US Air Force could actually kiss a guy right after the opening of the door.
And so he did.
Leaning against the broad front of the Satedan's body he eventually made real what he dreamt the last week over and over again.
A mouth was pressed rough against the other man's lips, demanding, and full of need. The surprised reaction was a moan, enabling John to press his tongue into Ronon's warm mouth.
Minutes later Ronon finally broke the kiss and made it possible for John to breath again.
Ronon's face was one great question. He appraised John curious.
"So what?", was all John managed to say between two deep breaths and the desperate attempt to control his frantic heartbeat.
Ronon's voice was husky, barely above a whisper, but calm and breathtaking sexy:
"Are you coming or going? Or coming, and then going? Or coming and staying?"
Another groan of John and Ronon was pushed aside and than back, until his back met the bare wall.
Moaning, kissing. Then nibbling at ears, neck and nose. Licking over the throat, the neck, until the collar of Ronon's shirt stopped John's febrile attempts to slide down at him. But this barrier was set aside by pulling the shirt off roughly, by nearly rupturing the fabric. Shoes, socks and pants fallowed soon.
The two men were finally enjoying the feeling of one hot skin on another. Sense taking. Breathtaking. Drop-dead gorgeous.
And a rainy day was all it took to enable this.