or death by solvent90
Jul. 29th, 2007 07:28 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
solvent90.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
sga_flashficTitle: or death
Author:![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
solvent90
Pairing: Rodney/Ronon
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: ~750
Author:
solvent90Pairing: Rodney/Ronon
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: ~750
Or death
“I don’t get it,” Ronon said, frowning.
There was a long pause. John looked at Teyla. Teyla looked at Rodney, who turned and squinted back at Ronon.
“What?” he said, trying to get Ronon into focus against the brilliant sky and trying not sneeze. It was blazing summer on PSX-457, the air smelling of baked grass and golden with fifty kinds of allergen; the team had been tramping through quiet fields all afternoon, and drifting mostly in silence until Ronon had spoken.
“Or death,” Ronon said and Rodney gave him a blank look until the memory of the conversation came back, cupcakes in the mess and John’s crappy attempt at an British accent.
“That was days ago!” he said and, to John’s bemused look, “cake or death, remember?”
“Oh, right,” John said, and grinned reminiscently. “What’s not to get?”
“It’s stupid,” Ronon said. “Why would someone have to choose between cake or death?”
“That’s the point,” John said. “It’s a stupid choice.”
“So?” Ronon said, still looking dissatisfied; then he dived at John’s knees, knocking him to safety as a knife hurtled over their heads from the wheatfield they had just passed. They ran.
*
“So,” Ronon said later that night, faintly short of breath as he spread his thighs wider to accommodate the upward slide of Rodney’s fingers.
“Hmm?” he said, only half paying attention, watching the amazing clench and release of Ronon’s abdominal muscles as he thumbed carefully behind Ronon’s balls. He still couldn’t believe he got to do this. Ronon tipped his head back against the pillows, panting.
“Cake,” he said to the ceiling, voice still amazingly even. One hand was fisted on his thigh; when Rodney touched it, he flattened the palm out but kept it there. “I still don’t -”
“You want to talk about this now?” Rodney said. Ronon’s fingers slid into his hair, scratched down his scalp and it felt idle, mostly directionless, but it still sent a hot tug of blood through Rodney, like the jump of a hook through him, his eyes falling shut in response; and then he really couldn’t wait for whatever Ronon was talking about, he had to let it drag him in to taste Ronon’s cock, while Ronon’s eyes clenched tightly shut, a muscle in his jaw jumping, toes curling defensively in Rodney’s crumpled sheets.
He turned his head away when Rodney tried to kiss him afterwards, so Rodney kissed his jaw instead, the surprisingly fine ridge of his collarbone, waiting, greedily aware of the hot sting of his own lips, the salt taste in his mouth; until Ronon turned his head back at last, as he always did, caught him, kissed him roughly and jerked him off hard and fast.
“Fuck, fuck, you - you’re so - please,” and it was embarrassing, because Ronon was always so quiet, but it was still Ronon, naked and flushed and breathing hard, staring at Rodney as he jerked him off, and Rodney could never keep himself quiet for this, let alone silent. He pushed his face into Ronon’s sweaty shoulder because if he had to keep looking at Ronon, the way Ronon’s mouth was falling open, it would be over even more stupidly fast than usual; but then Ronon made a noise, a small, harsh gasp, and that was it, he was coming helplessly all over Ronon’s fingers.
“It’s a stupid choice,” he said, muffled into the pillow, some time later, feeling his heart rate starting to slow to a bearable speed. He could still feel it all over his skin, his hair sweaty. “That’s why it’s funny.”
“But it’s not like - no one gets to choose between cake or -” he heard Ronon snort, too exasperated to finish the sentence. He didn’t do that often and he sounded a bit like Rodney when he did it; Rodney pressed his face harder in the pillow to keep the stupid smile in and then heard the words. He turned his head slowly.
“It would never happen,” Ronon was saying, flat, to the mattress, and Rodney reached out because he couldn’t help himself, stroking over the newly unscarred skin of his back. Ronon’s eyes flicked to him, expression unreadable. He didn’t move into the touch, but he didn’t move away either.
“It could happen,” Rodney said, throat stupidly tight, as Ronon blinked at him. “Cake or death,” he whispered, in his best British voice. Ronon raised an eyebrow and Rodney felt himself flush ridiculously but kept going. “Or death? I’ll have the chicken,” and Ronon’s mouth twitched and then, finally, he was laughing softly, face buried in Rodney’s soft pillow, letting his shoulders relax under Rodney’s hand. It was a start.
“I don’t get it,” Ronon said, frowning.
There was a long pause. John looked at Teyla. Teyla looked at Rodney, who turned and squinted back at Ronon.
“What?” he said, trying to get Ronon into focus against the brilliant sky and trying not sneeze. It was blazing summer on PSX-457, the air smelling of baked grass and golden with fifty kinds of allergen; the team had been tramping through quiet fields all afternoon, and drifting mostly in silence until Ronon had spoken.
“Or death,” Ronon said and Rodney gave him a blank look until the memory of the conversation came back, cupcakes in the mess and John’s crappy attempt at an British accent.
“That was days ago!” he said and, to John’s bemused look, “cake or death, remember?”
“Oh, right,” John said, and grinned reminiscently. “What’s not to get?”
“It’s stupid,” Ronon said. “Why would someone have to choose between cake or death?”
“That’s the point,” John said. “It’s a stupid choice.”
“So?” Ronon said, still looking dissatisfied; then he dived at John’s knees, knocking him to safety as a knife hurtled over their heads from the wheatfield they had just passed. They ran.
*
“So,” Ronon said later that night, faintly short of breath as he spread his thighs wider to accommodate the upward slide of Rodney’s fingers.
“Hmm?” he said, only half paying attention, watching the amazing clench and release of Ronon’s abdominal muscles as he thumbed carefully behind Ronon’s balls. He still couldn’t believe he got to do this. Ronon tipped his head back against the pillows, panting.
“Cake,” he said to the ceiling, voice still amazingly even. One hand was fisted on his thigh; when Rodney touched it, he flattened the palm out but kept it there. “I still don’t -”
“You want to talk about this now?” Rodney said. Ronon’s fingers slid into his hair, scratched down his scalp and it felt idle, mostly directionless, but it still sent a hot tug of blood through Rodney, like the jump of a hook through him, his eyes falling shut in response; and then he really couldn’t wait for whatever Ronon was talking about, he had to let it drag him in to taste Ronon’s cock, while Ronon’s eyes clenched tightly shut, a muscle in his jaw jumping, toes curling defensively in Rodney’s crumpled sheets.
He turned his head away when Rodney tried to kiss him afterwards, so Rodney kissed his jaw instead, the surprisingly fine ridge of his collarbone, waiting, greedily aware of the hot sting of his own lips, the salt taste in his mouth; until Ronon turned his head back at last, as he always did, caught him, kissed him roughly and jerked him off hard and fast.
“Fuck, fuck, you - you’re so - please,” and it was embarrassing, because Ronon was always so quiet, but it was still Ronon, naked and flushed and breathing hard, staring at Rodney as he jerked him off, and Rodney could never keep himself quiet for this, let alone silent. He pushed his face into Ronon’s sweaty shoulder because if he had to keep looking at Ronon, the way Ronon’s mouth was falling open, it would be over even more stupidly fast than usual; but then Ronon made a noise, a small, harsh gasp, and that was it, he was coming helplessly all over Ronon’s fingers.
“It’s a stupid choice,” he said, muffled into the pillow, some time later, feeling his heart rate starting to slow to a bearable speed. He could still feel it all over his skin, his hair sweaty. “That’s why it’s funny.”
“But it’s not like - no one gets to choose between cake or -” he heard Ronon snort, too exasperated to finish the sentence. He didn’t do that often and he sounded a bit like Rodney when he did it; Rodney pressed his face harder in the pillow to keep the stupid smile in and then heard the words. He turned his head slowly.
“It would never happen,” Ronon was saying, flat, to the mattress, and Rodney reached out because he couldn’t help himself, stroking over the newly unscarred skin of his back. Ronon’s eyes flicked to him, expression unreadable. He didn’t move into the touch, but he didn’t move away either.
“It could happen,” Rodney said, throat stupidly tight, as Ronon blinked at him. “Cake or death,” he whispered, in his best British voice. Ronon raised an eyebrow and Rodney felt himself flush ridiculously but kept going. “Or death? I’ll have the chicken,” and Ronon’s mouth twitched and then, finally, he was laughing softly, face buried in Rodney’s soft pillow, letting his shoulders relax under Rodney’s hand. It was a start.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-29 09:09 pm (UTC)Thanks for this. :D
Anna
(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-30 05:55 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-29 09:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-30 05:56 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-29 09:37 pm (UTC)*happy*
(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-30 05:57 pm (UTC)*g* If I have my way - always. :) I'm so pleased you enjoyed this.
lovely descriptions
Date: 2007-07-29 09:57 pm (UTC)Re: lovely descriptions
Date: 2007-07-30 05:57 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-29 10:01 pm (UTC)This was wonderful.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-30 05:58 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-29 10:49 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-30 06:00 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-29 11:39 pm (UTC)This is just a stunning bit of writing:
Ronon’s fingers slid into his hair, scratched down his scalp and it felt idle, mostly directionless, but it still sent a hot tug of blood through Rodney, like the jump of a hook through him, his eyes falling shut in response; and then he really couldn’t wait for whatever Ronon was talking about, he had to let it drag him in to taste Ronon’s cock, while Ronon’s eyes clenched tightly shut, a muscle in his jaw jumping, toes curling defensively in Rodney’s crumpled sheets.
And so much Rodney and Ronon relationship characterization packed in here. Wow.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-30 06:01 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-30 01:57 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-30 06:03 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-30 01:34 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-30 06:03 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-01 12:52 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-02 10:37 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-06 04:19 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-10 12:18 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-13 10:34 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-08-14 09:09 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-20 06:47 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-04-08 07:03 pm (UTC)Thanks
Sam;
(no subject)
Date: 2010-02-17 03:21 am (UTC)