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John wriggled carefully out from under Ronon's arm and crawled a few feet away as quietly as he could manage. That had certainly been…interesting. Yeah, interesting was a good, safe word for it. He'd stick with it until he felt a bit more capable of stringing some thoughts together. Say a couple of years. For now, he was just going to sit here until he'd got his breath back.
He managed a few determinedly blank minutes before he was forced to give in to the realisation that he was pretty uncomfortably sticky. John still wasn't ready to think about why, but he could at least do something about it. If the storm was going to keep raging, it could damn well make itself useful and give him a nice outdoor power shower.
He got to his feet and stumbled out of their makeshift refuge, dragging his t-shirt and shorts off as he went. It was lucky in a way that he didn't have to struggle out of all his gear now, considering how long it had taken him earlier, but if he'd been wearing more then maybe he wouldn't… be having to avoid thinking about stuff like this. Or maybe he would. He tipped his head back and let the rain sluice him clean until he was too cold to stand it any longer, then headed back in to his remaining dry clothes and the towel he'd pulled out of his pack when they'd first arrived.
By the time he'd dried off and got dressed, he was shaking with tiredness again, the brief naps he'd snatched not nearly enough to make up for the vigil the Faloran's had insisted on. Ronon slept on all through John's shifting about, much to his relief. But as a way of dealing with the situation, hoping that Ronon would just stay asleep lacked something in the long-term strategy department. Eventually he was going to wake up and realise what had happened, and John was going to need to be prepared when he did.
So. It was time he stopped imitating an ostrich and reviewed the facts. Obviously, something had affected Ronon's behaviour and made him act like that. The chain of events suggested strongly that it was something deeper in the cave since until Ronon had gone off to recce, John hadn't noticed anything different. He certainly had on Ronon's return though, it wasn't like he could have missed it. It. When he'd. Well, when they'd.
Oh, for god's sake! When they'd had sex.
There. He'd thought it and the world was still there. He realised he was patting the ground just to make sure and had to clap his other hand over his mouth to keep from giggling out loud. Okay, he was now officially so tired that he was getting hysterical and it was really quite unfair that Ronon was getting to snooze so peacefully when John, who needed it much more, was stuck with his brain spinning like a hamster wheel and was as likely to just drop off now as Rodney was to enjoy a nice lemon meringue pie. Or as Weir was to say that John was good at diplomacy, or as Teyla was to declare undying love for Kavanagh, and he really needed to focus here.
Food would probably help. He reached for his pack, overbalanced and knocked the pile of their equipment over with an echoing clatter. Ronon didn't even twitch.
John was halfway through the powerbar that had helpfully fallen out before he realised just how strange that was. Seven years playing hide-and-seek with the Wraith had left Ronon with hair-trigger reflexes. He should have been on his feet before the echoes had died away.
John sidled over, reached out and patted Ronon's arm. Lightly at first, then harder, then he grabbed on and shook Ronon and shouted his name. No response. Nothing. And John was severely tempted to slap himself upside the head because tired or not, it should have occurred to him that whatever Ronon had got into could have had other effects than turning him into a horny Neanderthal.
He really hadn't meant it when he'd been wishing that Ronon would just stay asleep, and he was never going to make a wish in an alien cave again, ever.
He felt frantically for a pulse and gulped in relief when he found it steady and strong. There was no sign of temperature or trouble with Ronon's breathing either, in fact he was starting to snore slightly, but there was no way this was natural. John snatched up his radio to get Rodney and Teyla to pick them up and deliver Ronon to Beckett, then hesitated. The storm hadn't got any better, quite the reverse, and what he'd decided earlier was still true: Rodney wasn't a good enough pilot yet to fly through it safely.
No, they should stay put with the jumper until it was over. Other than not waking up, Ronon seemed fine; he couldn't justify risking them both and there was no point in him even telling them, they'd just spend the rest of the night worrying uselessly. He wouldn't call unless Ronon's condition got much worse.
It put paid to any thought he'd had of even trying to sleep though. He had to stay alert and keep watch. He spent the rest of the night gazing at Ronon's face in a semi-stupor, zoning out on the gleam of his skin in the torchlight and occasionally reaching out to check he was still real and alive. Sometimes he'd catch himself stroking along the line of Ronon's beard or across a cheek and then he'd snatch his hand back and look away for a while, embarrassed even though nobody else was there.
It took a while for him to realise that the storm had abated but it gradually sank in that it was getting lighter and quieter outside. He dragged himself back out to where he could see the sky and decided it was good enough. Time to call in the cavalry.
"Sheppard to Jumper One, do you read me?"
"I hear you, Colonel."
"Teyla, I need you to wake Rodney up and get here as soon as you can. The cave we're in is about halfway up the side of that ridge we stopped at."
"What is wrong?"
"Something's happened to Ronon."
There was a pause, then, "We are on our way," and he signed off and made his way back to Ronon's side. No change. John pulled on the rest of his gear, a little drier now, and sat down to wait. Then he jumped up again and had a good look around to make sure nothing looked out of place because he really didn't feel up to explaining just what had happened when he wasn't even sure himself. Oh shit, what if the improvised shower hadn't been good enough? He pulled his jacket out of the way to sniff down his collar but all he could pick up was sweat and damp clothes. It was going to be okay, they wouldn't be able to tell. He just had to play it cool.
Though it would probably be a good idea for him to do up Ronon's pants now.
**
He heard the rest of his team before he saw them, the familiar sound of Rodney complaining about the walk and the rain and the early rise letting him know they'd arrived, and he called out to guide them.
"So, what's up, is Ronon hurt, were you attacked? Why didn't you call us before, and wow, you still look like absolute crap." Rodney's eyes swept anxiously over John before he turned to where Teyla leant over Ronon.
"He is asleep," she said.
"Asleep? You woke me up at the asscrack of dawn and got us all in a flap because Ronon is asleep? Let me alert the media, they'll just love a scoop like this."
"He won't wake up," John explained. "He went to explore, came back acting off, then he just went down and I can't get him to wake up."
"That does not sound like him. Ronon! Ronon Dex, wake up!" Teyla gave him a much harder thump than John had dared, but all that happened was Ronon rolled over slightly.
"Huh. Interesting." Rodney went and leaned over Ronon's ear, took a big breath and yelled, "Hey big guy! Food! Chocolate!"
Ronon snored. Teyla gave Rodney the kind of look John always classed as what-do-you-think-you-are-doing-young-man. "Well, it was worth a shot," Rodney said defensively. "I don't care what had happened to me, I'd wake up for chocolate."
"If we cannot wake him, it will not be easy to get him back to the jumper."
"Yeah, I know. He's heavy and I'm not exactly one hundred percent here." John levered himself up, grabbed his P90 and fired a round a couple of feet behind Ronon's head. The noise in the close confines of the cave was thunderous. Rodney and Teyla both flinched and glared at him but Ronon didn't bat an eyelash. "But it looks like there's no help for it. Teyla, you take his feet, Rodney grab his other shoulder, we're going to have to carry him."
Somehow, they managed to get down the hill and into the jumper without dropping Ronon more than once. Luckily, he landed mostly on top of Rodney so he wasn't any more damaged, though Rodney seemed to think his ribs would never recover. It used up John's last reserve though and the jumper seemed to waver around him. He waved Rodney to the pilot's seat with some kind of explanation and then sank down next to Ronon. He was dimly aware that if he fell asleep now, Teyla would worry and Rodney would completely freak out. He just had to make it to Beckett and then he could rest.
**
Several long, blissfully sleep-filled hours later, John made his way to Ronon's bedside. He didn't remember actually leaving the infirmary the day before, but it must have happened at some point because he had woken in his own bed. He had just managed to stay conscious until reaching Atlantis and had been able to explain what happened again to Beckett, this time adding that before Ronon had fallen asleep he hadn't seemed able to comprehend what John had said, but even drunk with tiredness he remembered to miss out the more shameful details. He had promised himself that if it seemed to be important he would mention it, but Beckett appeared to think Ronon had just run into some very effective narcotic or intoxicant with a sedative side effect and that it would wear off.
Beckett materialised at his shoulder, making him jump. He was obviously more tired still than he thought not to have noticed his arrival.
"He's going to be fine, Colonel. I thought about trying some stimulants, but I'm not sure what a mixture would do and it really isn't necessary. The substance is leaving his system slowly, but it is going and he should wake up naturally soon enough."
"He hasn't woken up at all yet?"
"No, and you look like you shouldn't have either," Beckett replied, running a professionally concerned eye over John. "Have a seat here a while and I'll get someone to track you down some breakfast. Or supper really, I don't think it counts as breakfast until the sun is up."
"I'm okay, really. I just couldn't sleep anymore right now."
"Am I your doctor, or amn't I? Sit. Eat. Rest. And try to behave, or I'll make sure you get some of the not-porridge Rodney was complaining about." Beckett pointed sternly at the chair next to Ronon's bed until John nodded obediently and sat, feeling slightly like a naughty puppy.
"Rodney was here then?" Good, someone should have been watching out for Ronon when John failed to.
"Aye, him and Teyla both were here for a bit. I managed to pack them off to bed soon enough, though I doubt I would have been able to if all my testing hadn't shown Ronon was doing just fine."
Beckett watched John for a few minutes, probably to make sure he was staying put, then wandered off. For once John had no intention of disobeying his orders; he needed to be here when Ronon woke up. He knew it was anxiety over what would happen that had woken him earlier and there was little chance he would get any more rest until he knew. Not that he was anxious to see Ronon's respect for him turn to anger or disgust, in fact he felt vaguely sick at the thought, but he needed to see Ronon's face to know if he had a chance of making amends and his best chance would be when Ronon was unguarded from just waking up.
He forced down the food a nurse brought him and watched the light change on Ronon's skin. Again. It was ironic to find himself keeping vigil for yet another night, since the first instance had been largely responsible for the mess he was in now. If he hadn't been so loopy in the cave, he would have been strong enough to stop Ronon, instead of just rolling over and giving in.
**
Five hours later, John was twice as annoyed at himself. He'd yelled for Beckett as soon as he saw Ronon stir and then he'd waited for the axe to fall as Ronon opened his eyes and looked around. But there had been nothing there but confusion and when Ronon had revealed that he couldn't remember what had happened, John had been so relieved for a moment that he nearly stopped breathing.
And then Ronon had looked to him like he always did, trusting John to tell him how it was, and John had chickened out and lied. He'd told him the same thing he'd told everyone else and he'd pretended that everything was fine and then he'd left before he gave anything away.
He tried to get Teyla to beat him up in the name of training for a while, but she refused on the grounds that he was still recovering and threatened to sic Rodney and Beckett on him. Since he was prevented from punishing himself physically, he went and gave Weir his mission report instead and then volunteered to sit through three consecutive briefings. He was bored to tears within five minutes, Weir sent him away to "rest properly, for God's sake John" after he yawned seven times in the sixth minute and he didn't feel any better at all.
He eventually wandered round to the mess, but Ronon was in there with the others and he just couldn't face it, so he gave up, took the advice of his doctor and boss and went back to bed.
Evidently, all the stress had worn him out again because he fell asleep almost as soon as he lay down.
**
John managed to avoid Ronon, and the issue, for two whole days. He wasn't just being a coward about it, he honestly had no idea how to go about making things right and all his thinking had got him precisely nowhere. So he had made a command decision to see where not thinking got him for a while.
With no missions scheduled for a week, Rodney had vanished into his lab and Teyla was visiting with her people and sparring a lot. Judging by the many limping Marines John saw about the place, so was Ronon, but he didn't go and watch like he normally would. He didn't go running either, in fact he pretty much just hid in his office and tried to catch up on all the boring stuff he normally dodged or delegated.
So, yeah, he was being a coward. John had always despised the type of guy who'd sleep with someone and then vanish, but how was he meant to handle this? They never covered it in officers' training, that was for sure.
The third day, his luck ran out. Ronon seemed to be everywhere he went – he ran into him in the control room, outside his office, leaving the gym. He even spent an excruciating half an hour eating dinner with him because he'd appeared behind John on the way into the mess, listening to Wraith-hunting stories while trying to act normal and not just stare at Ronon's mouth and hands. He thought he'd managed it. The normal behaviour anyway, he was less successful at not watching the man. Though when he thought about it, that would actually pass for normal. He hadn't realised how much he usually relied on watching Ronon's eyes when they interacted until he became afraid to meet them.
**
John went to bed restless and anxious and woke up as horny as hell. He focused determinedly on some of his hottest memories when he reached down to take care of it – the outrageous positions a ballet dancer he'd dated had been able to get into, being tied to the bed by that gorgeous redhead one leave – but when he came he was thinking about being touched by hands that were larger and stronger than his own, careful and roughly tender.
Denial obviously just wasn't going to work anymore and when Ronon sat down across from him at breakfast, John was so ashamed of himself he nearly jumped up and ran from the room. It took every inch of control he'd ever learned to finish his food and walk out normally.
God, what was he going to do? He'd slept with a member of his team when they were drugged out of their mind with an alien aphrodisiac, and now he was fantasising about it when he jerked off. The fact that it was a male member of his team didn't even register on his disturb-o-meter at this point; he'd made his peace with finding the occasional guy attractive years ago. He'd always figured that it wasn't worth risking his career when there were so many hot women about as well, so when Ronon had arrived he'd thought he'd be able to ignore the fact the guy tripped all his triggers like he always had before.
But then in the cave… He'd been startled at first when Ronon had jumped him, his reactions slowed down enough that it had taken him a minute to even start to struggle. He hadn't known what was going on, why Ronon would suddenly attack him, why he wasn't responding to his questions, and then he'd realised that Ronon was turned on and looking for sex, not a fight and he'd struggled harder. He'd gone from confused to downright scared at that point, because Ronon was fucking huge and totally capable of overpowering John on his best day, never mind when he felt approximately as strong as a day-old kitten and it could have got very, very bad. He'd been telling Ronon to stop, saying his name over and over trying to reach him and panicking because it wasn't working, and then suddenly it did work.
Ronon had stopped. He'd stopped trying to pull John's clothes off, and rolled him up until he'd felt completely surrounded and held him still instead. Even weirder, he'd started petting John and making little shushing noises, like he was trying to calm him down. John had spent another few minutes trying to talk to him before he realised that Ronon hadn't snapped out of it at all, he'd apparently just decided to put comfort before sex. He had tried to wriggle away a few times but whenever he so much as twitched, Ronon would just pull him in tighter and he had given up. He'd tried his best to think, to worry about what was going on, but he had been so tired and Ronon had been so warm around and under him and was holding him so… protectively, somehow, and the soothing had actually been comforting and he'd fallen asleep right there in Ronon's arms.
John wished he could blame what had happened next on that, that he'd been confused from sleep and hadn't known what was going on, but the truth was he'd been dreaming about kissing Ronon, touching him, as soon as he'd closed his eyes, repressed desire betraying him at last. He'd known when Ronon had started touching him, had drifted up from his dream into a half-waking state and if he'd wanted to, he could have roused himself and stopped it then. But he hadn't. Hadn't wanted to stop, hadn't wanted to acknowledge that what he did truly want was to soak up the feel of Ronon's hands on his skin, Ronon's erection hot between his thighs. The slow sensuality of the way Ronon had stroked him had been incredibly erotic, but it was the feel of his teeth on the back of John's neck that had pushed him fully awake at last, harder than he could ever remember being and desperate for more.
He'd thrust into Ronon's grip and then back against his body, trying to drive him on. John had come hard and fast, too turned on to last and when he'd felt Ronon climax in turn, John had felt like he was king of the world. Ronon had just kept stroking him, smoothing their come over John's skin and making him gasp when he slid over John's still sensitive cock but it had felt so good still and he'd moved into it, shamelessly begging for more with his body.
Shameless. Well, John was ashamed enough now, now when it couldn't be changed. He'd started to regret it almost as soon as the afterglow began to fade but it had taken a while for what he'd done to really hit him. He'd taken advantage of Ronon, god, he'd practically date-raped the man. Ronon had obviously had no idea what he was doing, and instead of taking care of him, John had stopped thinking about everything except that he found Ronon hot and had taken the opportunity to get himself laid. And now he was using the memory to get himself off when he knew perfectly well Ronon would never have acted like that of his own volition. He probably wasn't even interested in guys at all and when he remembered, he was going to kill John. Probably painfully slowly and John would completely deserve it.
**
What with the guilt and self-recrimination and the stress of the way his stomach would seize up whenever he saw Ronon with conflicting desires to confess everything or just run away, it took an embarrassingly long time to for John to realise that the way he kept running into Ronon everywhere wasn't exactly a coincidence. He'd been so caught up in his own head, he hadn't noticed that Ronon had been subtly stalking him for several days but by the fifth day after the Cave Incident it had gone past subtle to blatant. John was beginning to feel like he'd acquired an extra, much too large shadow.
When there were other people around to distract John from feeling like a total heel, it was actually pretty pleasant having Ronon around so much. He was easygoing company – though after McKay, just about everyone seemed easygoing – and when he felt like saying something it was usually interesting. If it hadn't been for the way Ronon kept watching John like he was a hawk and John was a particularly tasty looking rabbit, John would have been having fun. Admittedly, finding himself being watched by Ronon wasn't exactly a new experience, pretty much ninety percent of the time they were in the same room, John could be sure of turning his head and finding Ronon's eyes on him. It had never seemed so sharp and intent before, though. John had the uneasy feeling that Ronon hadn't missed a single thing in the last few days.
The odds were very good that John's luck was about to run out and he had better get ready to face the music.
**
Ronon being around constantly might have made John edgy, but having him suddenly vanish on day six was even more nerve-wracking. He couldn't help wondering if Ronon was off somewhere plotting his bloody murder, which put a slight taint on the day. Not to mention making him as jumpy as hell; when Rodney had tapped his shoulder from behind earlier, John had damn near levitated from shock and then had to put up with Rodney laughing at him all through lunch.
When Ronon followed John into his room that night and confronted him, it was almost a relief to have the uncertainty over, despite his fear of how Ronon would react. No more worrying about what to do, all he could do now was apologise and hope for the best.
He forced himself not to move when Ronon wrapped his hand round his neck. He deserved whatever was coming and he wasn't going to run anymore. He was so busy bracing himself that he nearly missed what Ronon said completely.
"I didn't say they were bad memories".
What? He must have misheard that, or interpreted it wrong. Though he noticed that he wasn't dead yet either and Ronon's fingers felt really nice. John knew what he wanted it to mean, but he had to be sure.
"But you were drugged, you didn't know what you were doing, and I did."
"Do you think I would have done the same with McKay? I've wanted you from the beginning," Ronon answered, and that was great, really great even if Ronon was laughing at him because John had just spent a week freaking out for no reason.
It was too unexpected, the sudden relief of finding Ronon wanted him too and John reached out to check he wasn't still dreaming, finding a solid bicep and sucking in quick breaths as desire began to build. He was dimly aware of pointing out that Ronon had never given him any clues he was interested and of Ronon's responding that he couldn't make the first move because John was in charge, but most of his concentration was on the way Ronon had moved close enough for John to feel his heat and on the hand that had found its way under his shirt.
Since they seemed to be having a little bit of cultural exchange going on, he started trying to explain the concept of don't-ask-don't-tell, but it wasn't like that actually made any sense even when he could think clearly. And thinking clearly was becoming a virtual impossibility with Ronon pressed against his body like that. John realised his eyes had closed and forced them open. Having to tilt his head back to meet Ronon's eyes really drove home how different Ronon was from all John's previous partners and that, combined with Ronon's heated gaze and the strength in his hands as he tightened his grip, pushed John that little bit further to being totally hard.
He made one last attempt to at being a responsible team leader, saying "The team, it would change things, we wouldn't work together as well…" but then Ronon pulled his head back and started nibbling on his throat and his beard was brushing John's skin, tickling him strangely. It was his words that were the final straw though.
"I know your scent now. I can tell when you're tired, or angry or afraid, when you're happy, when you're aroused." The last word and the way Ronon bit down when he said it turned John's knees to water and he fell into Ronon, grabbing his shoulders to stay upright. He could hear Ronon promising to be good to him, which sounded like heaven and then John pulled him up into a kiss because fuck it, he'd never been great at following the rules anyway.
This time, John could touch too and he was making the most of it, feeling up everywhere he could reach. Wide shoulders, strong back and muscled arms, fabulous ass and a rock-hard erection pressed against his hip and it felt even better than he'd imagined. In fact, it was time to move to the bed before he came in his pants because he wanted to do it properly this time and that definitely involved them both getting naked.
Ronon bowled him over as soon as he suggested the move, flinging him onto the mattress before he could blink and John laughed for sheer joy, muffled in the shirt Ronon was dragging over his head, because he loved how Ronon could just do that and he'd never expected to. Then Ronon's tongue was half-way down his throat so he went back to moaning around it instead because that was even more fun.
Their clothes all came off somehow and it turned out that a naked Ronon was one of John's best ideas ever. It seemed like he went on for miles, like it would take forever for John to touch all that hot skin. He liked the weight of Ronon over him too, it was different but different in a really amazing way, like the feel of another cock rubbing against his. He let his leg curl up around Ronon's when Ronon pulled at him and heard Ronon grunt with pleasure at the way it let them slide together even tighter. Then Ronon's big, warm fingers were brushing against his balls then further back and that was really, really new. He couldn't help tensing up when he felt them touch his hole because it was different again and maybe it was good too but he wasn't sure if he was ready for that.
Before he could decide whether to say anything, Ronon had rolled them so that he was caged between Ronon's thighs and where his hands were braced on the bed, looking up into Ronon's eyes. He tried to avoid answering directly when Ronon asked if he'd done this before – he didn't want to be treated like some fainting virgin, damn it – and got a sharp tweak at his chest hair for his trouble. Ronon had that hot, intent look again, John could tell he wouldn't let it go and he knew he was blushing as he shook his head but he wasn't going to look away. He didn't know what reaction he'd expected, maybe reassurance, but he hadn't expected Ronon to growl out a "Good" like he would have happily ripped apart any other man who'd ever touched John.
He didn't expect Ronon's possessiveness to send a jolt of excitement right to his cock either, but that was just about the hottest thing he'd ever heard.
He yanked Ronon down on top of him and then they were kissing and thrusting their hips together again, hot and rhythmic. When Ronon switched from kissing John to suckling and chewing at his nipples, John found himself arching right off the bed, about three seconds from coming and Ronon was growling again and then John's cock was suddenly halfway down Ronon's throat. He could hear himself shouting at how good it felt, wet heat moving around him and he tried to pull Ronon closer with his legs and then he was coming hard, feeling Ronon just swallow him down.
God, that was good. It left him limp and mellow and he kissed Ronon slowly, licking out his own taste from Ronon's mouth. Ronon was panting into the kiss, body tight with arousal still and John reached for him, eager to explore and to try and make Ronon feel this fantastic. But Ronon grabbed his hands to stop him and before he could protest he was being turned onto his front. John pushed back up onto his elbows, suddenly unsure again and then Ronon was stroking his neck and murmuring right in his ear, "I'm not going to fuck you, I just want to learn this side too."
John was shocked to realise he was almost disappointed about that but he couldn't help relaxing when Ronon started stroking over his back. Large, hot hands kneaded and petted and he groaned in pleasure and then shivered again when they teased over his ass to massage his legs.
When Ronon made his way back up, John was feelingly nicely tingly with slowly renewing arousal and he pushed back into the hand cupping his ass without thinking about it. The hand stayed there when Ronon began kissing random patterns down John's spine and John was caught between the two sensations, trying to concentrate on both at once. Ronon's mouth lit up all the nerves in his back one by one with soft lips and lightly stinging teeth and his hand teased at tender spots on the inside of John's thighs, nudged gently at his balls and pressed back and forth along the sensitive strip behind them. He was hard and aching again by the time Ronon reached the small of his back and he was writhing about, trying to get Ronon's hand where he really wanted it, too horny to think anything beyond good and more.
When Ronon spread him open and pressed a kiss at the top of his ass, John went hot all over and shook as he suddenly realised where this was going and that he was going to let him do it. And when Ronon told him to spread his legs it was like he felt the words right inside him and John moaned helplessly and moved to let him in. By the time Ronon's mouth actually touched him, he had gone light-headed with anticipation and the shock of it made him cry out and jerk.
He'd never known, he'd never felt anything like those slick caresses. It was heaven and hell both at once, this sweet hot ache that started in his ass and then surged through his body, up his spine, down his legs and arms, curled round and through his cock. He wanted desperately to move, ride the sensation somehow, but his legs were as wide as they would go already and all Ronon would allow him were little rubs into the sheets and then back into that wicked mouth. He just had to lie there and take it.
His heart pounded in his chest, he panted and made noises he'd never made before, sobs and broken whimpers, and he was breaking inside, falling apart as he melted and throbbed around Ronon's tongue. It seemed to go on forever, deeper and hotter and more intense and John didn't think he could bear it much longer without going insane or dying and then he couldn't breathe and he was blind, deaf and dumb and flying.
When John crashed back into his body, he could feel Ronon's cock rubbing hard and hot between his cheeks, right over where he was most sensitive and he clenched again inside involuntarily, still shaking from his orgasm. Then Ronon tried to shove them both right through the mattress and he roared in John's ear, wet heat spreading over John's back as he came.
Afterwards, Ronon pulled John into him so that they were spooned together. He could feel Ronon's heartbeat against his back, strong arms around him as Ronon wrapped him up like a living blanket, just like he had back in the cave only this time John could let himself enjoy it.
Yes, he thought, and let the rhythm of Ronon's breathing lull him into sleep.