Somesthesia by Kajikia (ESP/Amnesty)
Jan. 14th, 2006 01:45 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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sga_flashficTitle: Somesthesia
Author: Kajikia
Pairing: Rodney/Teyla/Ronon
Summary: enzyme!porn for the extra-sensitive part of the ESP challenge
Somesthesia (n.) Consciousness of one's body; awareness of body sensation.
“Hah!” Rodney says for the third or fourth time. “So much for their ‘streamlined enzyme production.’ Gross incompetence is what it is. How do they expect to pull off this mission if they can’t even drug their prisoners on time?”
His mind feels like an engine being revved in neutral, no gears engaging, no progress being made. He’s pacing and gesturing like a crazy person, trying to burn off this restless energy that feels like a million little ants running under his skin.
Teyla’s pacing, too. Her stride is still fluid and graceful, but her turns are getting sharper, jerkier. Ronon sits on the table, motionless; if he grips the edge any harder, something’s going to break.
“We are so screwed. They are thirty minutes late—”
“McKay,” Ronon growls. “Shut up.”
“Oh, yes, no problem, I’ll get right on that. Because it’s not like I’m hopped up on alien methamphetamines or anything. Honestly, what—”
Ronon takes two strides forward, grabs Rodney’s shirt, and shoves him up against the wall. Hard.
“I said. Shut. Up.”
Ronon’s actually lifted him a little off the floor so they’re eye to eye. He’s leaning into Rodney, pressing his whole body up against him.
“You want me to shut up?” And, wow, the enzyme really is making him stupid.
Ronon half snarls, half grins. “Yeah.”
“Make me.”
Ronon kisses him, all teeth and tongue and bruising force. It’s not what he’s expecting, but suddenly all his wayward, racing thoughts have a single track. The ability to focus is so wonderful, Rodney moans and grabs Ronon’s head, pulling him in closer.
Then Teyla’s there, pulling Ronon’s mouth away with one hand tangled in his long hair. She leans in and kisses Rodney, her mouth small and deft and fierce against his. Where Ronon’s kiss is a blow, hers is a bite. His mouth is filled with the taste of blood, but he can’t tell whose. She turns to stand on tip-toe and bite the tattoo on Ronon’s neck. Ronon makes a high, shocked sound in the back of his throat and falls to his knees.
“Strip,” Teyla says, and they do. Every movement feels awkward and clumsy and it seems to take a ridiculously long time to get naked.
His whole body aches like he has a fever and skin on skin feels like a friction burn, but his heart is pounding and his breath is racing and stopping would be worse. This frenzy is better than the long, slow swan-dive into withdrawal. Ronon grabs their hands and tugs, and they hit the ground in a naked tangle.
Rodney licks at Teyla’s nipple and she snarls and yanks on his hair until he bites down. She moans and arches up into his mouth. Ronon kisses the back of his neck, running his hands down Rodney’s side and over his ass. He shoves one long, blunt finger inside him and it’s Rodney’s turn to gasp and keen.
Ronon lifts his head and exchanges a look with Teyla. She slithers around Rodney, leaning forward and bracing herself on Ronon’s thigh. She swallows Ronon’s cock all the way down and, holy shit, he did not know Athosians could do that. Her throat works and she pulls off slowly, leaving his cock slick and shining. Her lips slide of the head with a wet, obscene pop, and Rodney’s on his hands and knees before she pulls back all the way.
Ronon is slow but he’s not nearly slick enough and he burns all the way in. Then the head of his cock drags over Rodney’s prostate and the sensation is so intense it transcends pain and pleasure and makes his vision go gray. When he can see again, Ronon has pulled him back off his hands so that they’re kneeling upright, Ronon’s cock buried in his ass. Teyla’s kneeling, too, her eyes hot and avid as she watches them. She catches Rodney’s gaze and stands up, straddling their legs, bracing her hands on Ronon’s shoulders. Her eyes never leave Rodney’s as she lowers herself onto him by centimeters, Ronon’s hand guiding Rodney’s cock into her slick heat. Like fucking lava, and she’s moving so damn slow. Ronon shoves his hips upwards, thrusting into her by proxy, and they all scream. They stumble into a rhythm, short and fast and brutal. When he comes, it’s like being hit with a Wraith stunner, and the world goes white and distant.
He comes back to himself slowly, the withdrawal creeping in around the edges of the tingling numbness. He and Teyla are leaning into each other, holding each other up. Ronon is slumped over behind him, his forehead resting on Rodney’s shoulder.
“Why are they doing this to us?” he asks, and his breath is like sandpaper on Rodney’s back. “Are they punishing us?”
“No, no,” Teyla murmurs, reaching up to smooth his hair back.
“They’re just incompetent morons,” Rodney says, and Ronon’s arms tighten around both of them.
Author: Kajikia
Pairing: Rodney/Teyla/Ronon
Summary: enzyme!porn for the extra-sensitive part of the ESP challenge
Somesthesia (n.) Consciousness of one's body; awareness of body sensation.
“Hah!” Rodney says for the third or fourth time. “So much for their ‘streamlined enzyme production.’ Gross incompetence is what it is. How do they expect to pull off this mission if they can’t even drug their prisoners on time?”
His mind feels like an engine being revved in neutral, no gears engaging, no progress being made. He’s pacing and gesturing like a crazy person, trying to burn off this restless energy that feels like a million little ants running under his skin.
Teyla’s pacing, too. Her stride is still fluid and graceful, but her turns are getting sharper, jerkier. Ronon sits on the table, motionless; if he grips the edge any harder, something’s going to break.
“We are so screwed. They are thirty minutes late—”
“McKay,” Ronon growls. “Shut up.”
“Oh, yes, no problem, I’ll get right on that. Because it’s not like I’m hopped up on alien methamphetamines or anything. Honestly, what—”
Ronon takes two strides forward, grabs Rodney’s shirt, and shoves him up against the wall. Hard.
“I said. Shut. Up.”
Ronon’s actually lifted him a little off the floor so they’re eye to eye. He’s leaning into Rodney, pressing his whole body up against him.
“You want me to shut up?” And, wow, the enzyme really is making him stupid.
Ronon half snarls, half grins. “Yeah.”
“Make me.”
Ronon kisses him, all teeth and tongue and bruising force. It’s not what he’s expecting, but suddenly all his wayward, racing thoughts have a single track. The ability to focus is so wonderful, Rodney moans and grabs Ronon’s head, pulling him in closer.
Then Teyla’s there, pulling Ronon’s mouth away with one hand tangled in his long hair. She leans in and kisses Rodney, her mouth small and deft and fierce against his. Where Ronon’s kiss is a blow, hers is a bite. His mouth is filled with the taste of blood, but he can’t tell whose. She turns to stand on tip-toe and bite the tattoo on Ronon’s neck. Ronon makes a high, shocked sound in the back of his throat and falls to his knees.
“Strip,” Teyla says, and they do. Every movement feels awkward and clumsy and it seems to take a ridiculously long time to get naked.
His whole body aches like he has a fever and skin on skin feels like a friction burn, but his heart is pounding and his breath is racing and stopping would be worse. This frenzy is better than the long, slow swan-dive into withdrawal. Ronon grabs their hands and tugs, and they hit the ground in a naked tangle.
Rodney licks at Teyla’s nipple and she snarls and yanks on his hair until he bites down. She moans and arches up into his mouth. Ronon kisses the back of his neck, running his hands down Rodney’s side and over his ass. He shoves one long, blunt finger inside him and it’s Rodney’s turn to gasp and keen.
Ronon lifts his head and exchanges a look with Teyla. She slithers around Rodney, leaning forward and bracing herself on Ronon’s thigh. She swallows Ronon’s cock all the way down and, holy shit, he did not know Athosians could do that. Her throat works and she pulls off slowly, leaving his cock slick and shining. Her lips slide of the head with a wet, obscene pop, and Rodney’s on his hands and knees before she pulls back all the way.
Ronon is slow but he’s not nearly slick enough and he burns all the way in. Then the head of his cock drags over Rodney’s prostate and the sensation is so intense it transcends pain and pleasure and makes his vision go gray. When he can see again, Ronon has pulled him back off his hands so that they’re kneeling upright, Ronon’s cock buried in his ass. Teyla’s kneeling, too, her eyes hot and avid as she watches them. She catches Rodney’s gaze and stands up, straddling their legs, bracing her hands on Ronon’s shoulders. Her eyes never leave Rodney’s as she lowers herself onto him by centimeters, Ronon’s hand guiding Rodney’s cock into her slick heat. Like fucking lava, and she’s moving so damn slow. Ronon shoves his hips upwards, thrusting into her by proxy, and they all scream. They stumble into a rhythm, short and fast and brutal. When he comes, it’s like being hit with a Wraith stunner, and the world goes white and distant.
He comes back to himself slowly, the withdrawal creeping in around the edges of the tingling numbness. He and Teyla are leaning into each other, holding each other up. Ronon is slumped over behind him, his forehead resting on Rodney’s shoulder.
“Why are they doing this to us?” he asks, and his breath is like sandpaper on Rodney’s back. “Are they punishing us?”
“No, no,” Teyla murmurs, reaching up to smooth his hair back.
“They’re just incompetent morons,” Rodney says, and Ronon’s arms tighten around both of them.