S05E20, "Enemy at the Gate"
Yes, I cried my eyes out. Nope, not accepting that it's over.
They all thought they were going to die. John had decided. To save everyone he knew and loved, to save Earth, he would sacrifice his own life. His life would be a small price to pay knowing they all would be safe. John had to bite his tongue and fight back the tears while drifting silently towards the giant hive ship. He had a hard time thinking about anything else than his team, and mostly Ronon. His proud, beautiful lover would never forgive him for doing this. He didn't really care about that though. Ronon would be safe.
Ronon had demanded he should go with John to Earth, but Stargate Command wouldn't let him. The Satedan had been so furious he had punched a dent in the inside of the door to John's quarters. John hadn't really said anything, because he agreed with the SGC; he didn't want Ronon anywhere near the hive if it would come to what John now was about to do. John knew there was a very slim possibility that Atlantis would ever get there in time, and he wanted Ronon safely aboard Atlantis. John didn't say this of course. If he did, Ronon would never let him leave. John just sat on his bed, watching his enormous partner pacing throughout the room, his heart heavy. He prayed and hoped that the Satedan wouldn't suspect anything before he left, and his prayers seemed to be answered. Ronon was too angry to think clearly, and eventually he punched the heavy doors before he stormed out of the room.
That was the last John had seen of Ronon before he beamed to Earth. It hurt him in more ways he knew was possible that he was sitting here without being able to tell his love about this. Swallowing thickly he bit back the tears, focusing at the task at hand. Destroy the hive ship, John. Save everyone.
They had all been prepared to die. They had all been prepared to die for each other, for Atlantis and for Earth. Ronon wanted to punch John for lying to him, and that's what he did. The night they defeated the hive ship and Atlantis landed on Earth, Ronon and John finally met just the two of them. John just stood there, looking at Ronon, shameful. That's when Ronon punched him, right in the face, in the nose. John made a pained sound, but he just took the punch, accepting Ronon's anger.
Ronon's face was a grimace of anger and pain as he fisted the front of John's shirt, raising his arm for another punch. John closed his eyes and steeled himself for the pain to come, but when it didn't he opened his eyes again. The sight in front of him was heart wrenching. Tears were rolling down Ronon's face; the big man's brow furrowed into a look of internal struggle.
"John, why did you-" Ronon's voice broke and John's heart ached.
"Ronon, I had to-"
Ronon shook his head furiously, making John go silent.
"Shut the fuck up John, please. Just - I don't– for once- be fucking quiet-" Ronon's arm lowered as he spoke, fisting his other hand next to his other. John groaned as the other man's mouth crashed down on his. They kissed desperately and John tasted blood, blood having come down from his nose from when Ronon had punched him.
John let his hands drift upwards and he used one hand to grab ahold of Ronon's thick dreadlocks, the other one wounding around his neck. They kissed desperately, the kiss tasting of both metal and salt. Ronon maneuvered them to John's bed and when their knees bumped against the side of it, they broke the kiss. Ronon let go of John and sat down, perched at the edge of the bed. John sucked in a sharp breath because of the look in those eyes. Ronon's gems were dark and clouded, pained. Ronon extended his hand. They were still like that for a long time before John, as if in slow motion, took his hand. Ronon pulled him into his lap, John straddling the bigger man's thighs. When they melted against each other it was like an electric shock going through them both; Ronon wound his arms tightly around John's middle and pressed his face into John's chest.
"Fuck, John, fuck, fuckfuckfuck-"
Deep sobs wrecked the big man's frame and John just held him. Neither of them spoke: it was not what they needed right now. Right now, they just needed to be close. Ronon groaned and clutched the back of John's shirt tightly, as if he was holding onto a cliff in the middle of a storm.
Some time not much later, they ended up lying down on the bed, just feeling each other. John felt Ronon's big, calloused hands all over him, but in a significantly different way he had ever felt before. There was nothing sexual about this: it was just a raw, primal need to be with another person, to feel like halves of a whole becoming complete. It was like they couldn't get enough of each other, couldn't get close enough. Every limb entangled, desperately trying to get closer, to melt into each other.
Eventually, they fell asleep. They almost felt like one person when they did, fit as snugly as they physically could against each other. John's head was tucked under Ronon's chin, his nose nuzzled into the bigger man's neck. Ronon's muscular arms were wrapped around John's shoulders and in a way so that John's head was cushioned by the Satedan's bicep. John felt and heard the rumbling in Ronon's chest as the man hummed contently, raking his fingers through the Colonel's short hair. They tasted, smelled and breathed each other until they drifted asleep.
Maybe they hadn't, and weren't, prepared to die after all.
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