Inoculation, SGA, Ronon/Keller, NC-17
Feb. 14th, 2009 02:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
grammarwomanTitle: Inoculation
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
grammarwoman
Fandom/Character/Setting: Stargate: Atlantis, Ronon/Keller, set during and going a little AU from episode 4.13 "Quarantine"
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 3800
Author's notes: Written forinlovewithnight's One-night Stand Ficathon. Thanks again for running this, 'Night.
sabaceanbabe requested "SGA, Ronon/Keller, heat". In my head, this is what should have happened during "Quarantine", and probably would have if it had taken just a little longer to reset the system. (Damn you, Zelenka!) I really hope you like this. Many thanks to my cheerleader and ideas lady darsynia.
Inoculation
Jennifer seethed as she paced around the room. McKay had a lot to answer for when the current quarantine crisis was over. What kind of stupid security measures separated a doctor from the potential victims of an outbreak?
In the meantime, she was resolutely not gawking at the shifting of Ronon's shoulders as he strained again to pry open the medlab doors. She was a doctor, dammit. He was a patient. OK, one of her many, many patients, and an unusually frequent one at that. In fact, Beckett's notes had included that the only times Ronon visited the infirmary without a fight was when he was unconscious or being strong-armed by Teyla, and sometimes the former as a result of the latter. Jennifer regarded Ronon dropping by the infirmary so often as both a sign of his growing toleration of help and the base's acceptance of her as Beckett's replacement.
Jennifer gave herself a moment to appreciate the play of the muscles of his arms and back working under his leather shirt. When he turned with a frustrated grunt, she jumped and mentally kicked herself. Sure, Ronon was gorgeous, an enigma with whom a good portion of the population was fascinated. But there were other men on Atlantis that were attractive, too, though maybe not so dangerous, and rugged, and strong…God, there went her brain again! At least this time it wasn't her mouth, babbling on about getting to know him better. As soon as she had blurted out those words, she'd wished she'd had one of the patented Ancient devices of bizarre purposes, maybe one that could turn back the clock a few seconds or swallow her up in the floor.
Ronon had let her off with nothing more than a weird look and then called her on her nervous pacing. When he told her about the woman he'd left behind on Sateda, she'd been astounded. Jennifer would have bet her last shipment of chocolate that that was more than he had told anyone else in the city except for his team. She'd summoned up her best bedside manner as she reflected right back at him his advice about not shouldering the blame.
Then came the failed plan with the air tank, and if hair-brained schemes like that were what kept Ronon's gate team alive, she did not want to know. She sank down onto a mattress from a tipped exam bed and surveyed the chaos left behind by the makeshift rocket. She willed her heartbeat to slow down as the adrenaline surge in her bloodstream ebbed. Just when she thought she was approaching calm again, Ronon slid down next to her. Her illogical heart starting pounding even faster.
She could feel the heat radiating from his skin and smell the warm leather of his shirt. It was a good thing she was already sitting down, because the combination was turning her bones to syrup.
"I had you wrong," Ronon rumbled. Jennifer, focused on keeping her hands to herself, found herself gaping at him.
He smiled as he continued, "When you first came here, I thought you were weak – that you didn't belong."
His words splashed over her with the shock of ice water. She shook her head as her bitter reaction slipped out. "It's the story of my life." He didn't move or turn away. Her bile just kept flowing: "Growing up, I skipped through grades and graduated at fifteen. Got my Bachelor's Degree before I was even old enough to vote. I missed out on a lot of things – any kind of social event, you know, parties and dances."
It was an old hurt, one that never seemed to heal. She sighed, "I don't ever remember a time in my life where I belonged."
Ronon said, "Yeah, well, blowing up that tank – you really showed yourself."
She smiled in spite of herself. "But it didn't work."
"That's not the point," he replied.
She didn't know what to say to that. Ronon seemed equally disinclined to break the silence. After a few minutes, the creaking of his shirt as he inched towards her was almost shockingly loud in the stillness. She was reminded suddenly of the Little Prince's taming of the fox. When he leaned into her, his arm brushing up against hers, she held her breath as she slowly and carefully laid her head on his shoulder. He didn't bolt or stiffen. Under her ear, his shoulder was warm and solid. She let out a soft sigh.
They remained tipped toward each other for a while. Jennifer luxuriated in the human contact. Since coming to Atlantis, she rarely got to touch people outside of a professional context, much less lean on them for support. She felt a slight pressure against her hair and realized that Ronon was breathing in her scent. She lifted her head and smiled in shy amazement. His face was close to hers, so close that her eyes flicked around trying to take in all of his expression. She didn't want to make the first move because she always got it wrong. Lab partners who grinned and leaned in close only to ask for her notes, co-workers at the holiday party who only wanted her roommate's number…
Ronon flinched and reached up to grab at his shoulder. "I think I might have done something pulling on the door."
Jennifer sat back. Of course she'd misjudged the situation again. She donned her professionally blank doctor's mask and knocked his hand aside with her own. "Let me see it."
Her hands slid over the sweat beading on his skin. She realized that the heat in the room had been rising ever since the ventilation died with the closing of the doors. She took a mental inventory of her own temperature and winced as she felt damp hair clinging to her neck and perspiration running down her face. Even if Ronon had been thinking about doing, well, something, he'd probably taken one look at her grossness and reconsidered.
"Hey." Ronon grasped both her hands in one of his and brought them back down to her lap. "It's nothing."
Then he cupped her face, sweeping a stray wisp of hair behind her ear, and nothing in the Pegasus galaxy could have made her move from that spot. "I want to kiss you, if that's okay."
"But I'm all sweaty and disgusting!" she protested over the roaring in her ears. "I bet I look like a drowned rat." She tried to stare downward, but his hand on her cheek kept her face turned towards him.
He shook his head. "You look real. I like real."
"I like you real, too – I mean you look really good – I mean…Oh!" she squeaked, and wished again for an Ancient device to save her from herself.
He chuckled. "Is that a yes?"
"Yes! Yes, I mean, well. You're—and I didn't expect you to... but, yes!" She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then opened them again. "Yes. Please."
He nodded, slid his hand into her hair and pulled her towards him as he leaned in to meet her.
The soft brush of his lips against hers was so faint that she could barely feel it over her pulse thudding in her ears. She lifted her face up to increase the pressure. Unfortunately, she couldn’t suppress the brief giggle that escaped when his mustache tickled her nose. He pulled back and his face went to stone as he let her go.
"Oh, no, I'm sorry! It's just—" She hastily scratched her nose. "Your beard. I haven't – I've never kissed a guy with a beard before. It felt…"
Ronon still looked closed off. Impulsively, she grabbed his face between her hands. "Let me try this again, OK?" She tilted him one way as she tipped her head the other, moving her hands down to his shoulders as she got closer. This time, their lips met in a solid contact. She could feel the tension in his shoulders as he held himself back, yet he kept the kiss gentle, letting her lead. His hands crept up to rest on her knees. When she risked a small darting lick to his bottom lip, Ronon's grip on her legs tightened. Jennifer gasped, and his hands dropped away.
He pulled back and mumbled "Sorry."
"No, that was good. That was…Wow." She knew her grin was beyond dopey, but she was way past caring.
"'S been a while," Ronon said with an embarrassed twist to his mouth. "I wasn't sure…I don't want to hurt you."
"I'm pretty resilient," Jennifer said, trying hard to sound light instead of desperate. "I have to admit, I guess I expected you to be a 'throw her up against a wall' kinda guy."
Ronon cocked his head, thought a moment, and shrugged. "OK."
Before she had a chance to respond or do more than draw in a shocked breath, he rose to his feet and dragged her up with him, his huge hands around her sides. She had a dizzy moment of looking up at him, then without a break in the momentum, her back was flat against the wall, her legs had been wrapped around his waist, and they were face to face.
"Like that?" he asked.
Dazed, she nodded.
"Good." And then he kissed her.
She lost track of the next several minutes as Ronon devoured her mouth, a starving man unleashed on a feast. When they came up for air, she realized that her arms were clinging around his neck and her legs were locked around his hips. They were pressed so tightly together that there was barely room for their gasping chests to expand. Then she recognized that she could feel every inch of his erection through the dampness between her legs as she rocked against him. She wondered if she was going to spontaneously combust from mortification.
Her mouth, momentarily freed from the most mind-blowing kiss she'd ever had and therefore completely disconnected from her overwhelmed brain, started babbling, "For the record, I wasn't trying to tell you what to do—I mean, be yourself, and everything, but that was more than Wow, that was like Fucking Amazing—"
"Jennifer," he said, in a deep, rough tone that she could feel rumble through their bodies. She waited for his next words, then realized what he was asking with the harshness of his breath, the trembling in his arms.
"Yes! Oh God, yes!" She frantically nodded in case he didn't understand her words and lunged to kiss him again.
She yelped when he lifted her even higher into the air and pushed up her shirt to nip at her breasts through her bra. The wet heat of his mouth sent sizzles of pleasure through her.
"Let me—" she gasped, tugging at the hem of her shirt. It took an agonized minute of fumbling to get the shirt over her head and her bra unhooked and tossed on the floor, and then bam! Her head whipped back as he fastened his mouth on a nipple and began to suck, alternating scrapes of his teeth with curling strokes of his tongue.
"Fuck, Ronon," she panted, weakly hanging on with limbs on nerve-tingling overload. "God!"
Then he switched to the other breast and somehow snaked a hand up between her legs, rubbing her roughly, and she was gone, coming with a muffled wail. She hung there, completely limp but pinned against the wall by the weight of his body. She petted his dreads absently as she tried to put her brain back in order. The scratching of his beard against her collarbones reminded her that she was half-naked while he was still fully clothed. Worse yet, judging from his panting, he was gallantly waiting for her to recover even though he was close to losing it.
"Oh," she managed. "That was…"
"Yeah?" Ronon said, smiling at her.
"Yeah." She patted his shoulders. "Can we move this to the floor? Your arms have got to be killing you."
"Nah," he said, but put her down anyway. "You're just a little thing."
"Hey!"
"Pretty little thing?" he offered hesitantly. She took a closer look. She couldn't be sure, but it seemed that Ronon was almost as nervous as she was. It made her feel a bit better. Several parts of her body chimed in with what she could do to feel a lot better, and she licked her lips.
"Floor," she said, pointing to the mattress at their feet.
"You first," Ronon replied with a grand gesture.
She grabbed his hand and swept his legs, sending them both crashing to the mattress beneath them. She knew that Ronon was humoring her when he landed on the bottom and she wound up leaning on his chest and straddling his legs.
"Nice," he smirked. "Teyla teach you that?"
"I may have taken a few lessons," Jennifer smugly replied.
He reached up to fondle her breasts, but she scooted down his body. He frowned. She felt the need to take his intense focus off of her, so she brushed a hand lightly over his groin, and his erection jumped under her fingers. She caught her breath at the outline it presented against his pants.
She squeezed him lightly as she said, "My turn." He grunted and bit his lip. She tried her best to undo the complicated knot tying his pants shut. Ronon gritted his teeth as her fumblings kept brushing against him.
"Let me," he growled, and made short work of yanking the strings apart and his pants down a few inches. She wasn't surprised to see that he went commando. She hooked her fingers in the waistband and pulled the pants down to his knees as he wriggled to help her. She knelt beside him as he gracelessly toed off his boots and finished removing his pants.
With that done, she turned her attention to his cock, which lay hard and long against his stomach. He was uncut, another non-surprise. It was the first time she'd seen an intact foreskin outside of an exam room, though, and she had to fight her initial urge to examine it clinically. She gripped him lightly, marveling at the feel of the skin moving with her hand.
"Jennifer," he groaned.
"What? Am I doing something wrong?" she asked, pausing mid-stroke.
"No!" he panted. "'S good. You're good."
"Would you mind if I…" she trailed off, wondering how to phrase her request. She was already pushing the boundaries of her previous experiences, and dirty talk at this point was out of the question.
"Whatever you want. Just don't stop." Ronon propped himself up on his elbows. "Please don't stop."
She turned her head away from his bold stare, feeling oddly shy, and pondered the cock in her hand. She leaned down and gently licked the tip. She was rewarded with a long and low growl. She thought back to a half-remembered bit of porn she'd seen. She opened her mouth, tucking her lips around her teeth and took the entire cockhead in her mouth, swirling her tongue around and under the foreskin. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ronon's head fall back. His hips started to twitch.
Pleased with his reaction, she started to bob up and down, licking and stroking at the same time, occasionally adding a twist or a squeeze. From the restrained jerking of his hips, he was trying hard not to thrust all the way into her mouth.
Just when she thought she had a nice rhythm going, Ronon growled, "Stop!"
Before she could ask him what she'd done wrong, he put a hand to her lips and took a couple of deep breaths. "I was gonna lose it. And I really wanna fuck you."
She grinned. "Oh!"
"It's been a long time. Since…" he paused. "Sateda."
"You mean you haven't…here? But anyone would have—"
He cut her off. "Jennifer." He gestured at his groin. "What do you—we—need?"
"Condom!" she blurted. "Oh, God, I hope—"
Luckily, a supply cabinet with condoms was in their section of the infirmary. She scrambled to retrieve a handful, stripping off her own pants as she went. Ronon raised an eyebrow as he shucked off his shirt. "How many times do you think we can fuck before the doors open?"
Jennifer blushed again. At this rate, her cheeks were going to be permanently stained red. "I haven't done this for a while, either, and I didn't want to have to get up again in case I, um, ripped it." She tore open the package and looked at him. "How do you want…"
"I don't know how to put that on. On Sateda, we used something different."
"Oh, no, I meant…" Doctor, she reminded herself. Clinical detachment. "Do you want me on the top or bottom?" she said in a rush, not quite meeting his eyes.
"What's your favorite?" he asked.
"Um, well, I'm not really, shall we say, all that experienced. I haven't decided on, ah, a preference."
He considered her a moment. "How about both? Top, then bottom."
"Great!" A plan – she was good with a plan.
She checked that the condom was rolling the right way and eased it over his cock. He stroked it lightly. "Weird."
"Is it OK?" she asked.
"We'll see." He grinned widely. "Now?"
"Oh yeah." She pushed his shoulders down and swung a leg over him. She gripped him lightly and eased his cock into her. She hissed slightly as she settled on to him. It had been a few years, and neither the last guy she'd been with nor her vibrator was as big as Ronon. She blessed her daily Kegel routine as she flexed and eased down to seat him fully inside.
Ronon groaned, "So good." Jennifer was pleased to note that his eyes had almost rolled back into his head.
She shifted a bit, getting used to the feeling of how deep he went inside her. With each motion, he set off cascades of twinges and ripples. Then she started to move up and down. It wasn't until she opened her eyes that she realized that they had fallen closed, lost in the sensation of his fullness sliding in and out of her. She looked up to see Ronon staring at her.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered hoarsely. She couldn't help but lean down to kiss him. His hands stroked down her back to cup her ass, his thumbs circling the base of her spine. She shivered at the touch. He bucked up into her in response. Unexpectedly, she felt herself toppling over the brink of another orgasm. Her muscles spasmed around him as she panted through it, her head pillowed on his chest, his name a soft chant on her lips.
His hands squeezed on her hips. "Flip you now?" he growled, his voice so low that it vibrated along her bones.
"Yes," she breathed, and hung on tightly as he whipped them around.
His first few thrusts were slow and shallow, but she could tell by his bitten lip that he was holding back. She ran her fingernails down his chest, scratching lightly at his nipples. He hissed and leaned into her touch.
"Ronon," she said, looking up at him. "I'm not going to break. Do it as hard as you want."
He shook his head and gasped under his breath, "Don't wanna hurt you."
"Ronon!" she replied. She planted her feet, heaved up with her hips, and squeezed him inside her as tight as she could. "Please!"
"Fuck!" he gritted out, and started pounding into her. She tried to keep pace with him, rising to meet his thrusts, but soon she could only brace herself to avoid being shoved across the floor. It didn't take long before his hips reached a frantic rhythm. She could feel her release hovering just out of reach, so she slid a hand in between them to her clit. It took a few flicks and then she was keening, lost over the edge. Ronon let out a muffled roar and slumped on top of her.
In a dazed sort of fugue, she noted that he was very large, and very heavy. She didn't realize that she had said it aloud until Ronon bit her gently on the neck and apologized before rolling off her. She had a moment of missing his warm bulk on top of her when he reached out a languid arm and gathered her into him.
"Hm," she said and rubbed her cheek against his chest.
"Hm," he agreed, dropping a kiss on her head.
They laid there for a few minutes, basking in a companionable silence. Then the lights went out.
"Crap!" Jennifer yelped, and fumbled for her clothes. "The quarantine! The doors!"
Ronon chuckled and helped her get reassembled and the area cleaned up, so when the doors slid open shortly thereafter, they only looked a little disheveled. She snuck in a brief kiss at the last second. "I gotta go," she complained. "I have to find out who needs treating."
"S'allright," he replied. "I know. Go."
She threw him a grateful smile and collected her team from the rejoined medlab. They left in search of news and potential victims.
Later, with the false alarm all sorted out and the crisis averted, Jennifer headed to the mess hall. She grabbed up a tray and some food, and turned to look at the tables. She noticed Ronon sitting with some of the senior personnel. She thought briefly about chickening out and taking the tray back to her room, then steeled herself and walked over to the group. Ronon was in the middle of talking.
"Hey, d'you hear? McKay thought it was a real outbreak. He even started getting sick! Thought he was, um ..." He trailed off as he noticed Jennifer. He jerked his feet of the chair next to him and sat up.
"Hey, uh ..."
Jennifer smiled at the group, trying hard not to single Ronon out. "Hi. Mind if I join you?"
"Sure, go ahead," Colonel Sheppard answered easily.
Jennifer glanced at Ronon and set her tray down, taking the chair next to him. He ducked his head awkwardly and glared at Sheppard and Teyla. They looked back at him, wondering at his sudden belligerence.
"What?" Ronon demanded.
Sheppard shrugged. "Nothin'."
Colonel Carter walked up and joined the group. Underneath the table, Ronon's foot slid over to Jennifer's and nudged her. She peeked sideways at him. He flashed her a brief grin and went back to picking at his food. The conversation continued around them, but all Jennifer could do was smile and laugh as their knees gently bumped together. She thought of the handful of condoms she'd stashed in her room and idly plotted how to get the doors stuck when they were both somewhere with a proper bed and all the time in the world.
Author:
grammarwomanFandom/Character/Setting: Stargate: Atlantis, Ronon/Keller, set during and going a little AU from episode 4.13 "Quarantine"
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 3800
Author's notes: Written for
inlovewithnight's One-night Stand Ficathon. Thanks again for running this, 'Night. sabaceanbabe requested "SGA, Ronon/Keller, heat". In my head, this is what should have happened during "Quarantine", and probably would have if it had taken just a little longer to reset the system. (Damn you, Zelenka!) I really hope you like this. Many thanks to my cheerleader and ideas lady darsynia.Inoculation
Jennifer seethed as she paced around the room. McKay had a lot to answer for when the current quarantine crisis was over. What kind of stupid security measures separated a doctor from the potential victims of an outbreak?
In the meantime, she was resolutely not gawking at the shifting of Ronon's shoulders as he strained again to pry open the medlab doors. She was a doctor, dammit. He was a patient. OK, one of her many, many patients, and an unusually frequent one at that. In fact, Beckett's notes had included that the only times Ronon visited the infirmary without a fight was when he was unconscious or being strong-armed by Teyla, and sometimes the former as a result of the latter. Jennifer regarded Ronon dropping by the infirmary so often as both a sign of his growing toleration of help and the base's acceptance of her as Beckett's replacement.
Jennifer gave herself a moment to appreciate the play of the muscles of his arms and back working under his leather shirt. When he turned with a frustrated grunt, she jumped and mentally kicked herself. Sure, Ronon was gorgeous, an enigma with whom a good portion of the population was fascinated. But there were other men on Atlantis that were attractive, too, though maybe not so dangerous, and rugged, and strong…God, there went her brain again! At least this time it wasn't her mouth, babbling on about getting to know him better. As soon as she had blurted out those words, she'd wished she'd had one of the patented Ancient devices of bizarre purposes, maybe one that could turn back the clock a few seconds or swallow her up in the floor.
Ronon had let her off with nothing more than a weird look and then called her on her nervous pacing. When he told her about the woman he'd left behind on Sateda, she'd been astounded. Jennifer would have bet her last shipment of chocolate that that was more than he had told anyone else in the city except for his team. She'd summoned up her best bedside manner as she reflected right back at him his advice about not shouldering the blame.
Then came the failed plan with the air tank, and if hair-brained schemes like that were what kept Ronon's gate team alive, she did not want to know. She sank down onto a mattress from a tipped exam bed and surveyed the chaos left behind by the makeshift rocket. She willed her heartbeat to slow down as the adrenaline surge in her bloodstream ebbed. Just when she thought she was approaching calm again, Ronon slid down next to her. Her illogical heart starting pounding even faster.
She could feel the heat radiating from his skin and smell the warm leather of his shirt. It was a good thing she was already sitting down, because the combination was turning her bones to syrup.
"I had you wrong," Ronon rumbled. Jennifer, focused on keeping her hands to herself, found herself gaping at him.
He smiled as he continued, "When you first came here, I thought you were weak – that you didn't belong."
His words splashed over her with the shock of ice water. She shook her head as her bitter reaction slipped out. "It's the story of my life." He didn't move or turn away. Her bile just kept flowing: "Growing up, I skipped through grades and graduated at fifteen. Got my Bachelor's Degree before I was even old enough to vote. I missed out on a lot of things – any kind of social event, you know, parties and dances."
It was an old hurt, one that never seemed to heal. She sighed, "I don't ever remember a time in my life where I belonged."
Ronon said, "Yeah, well, blowing up that tank – you really showed yourself."
She smiled in spite of herself. "But it didn't work."
"That's not the point," he replied.
She didn't know what to say to that. Ronon seemed equally disinclined to break the silence. After a few minutes, the creaking of his shirt as he inched towards her was almost shockingly loud in the stillness. She was reminded suddenly of the Little Prince's taming of the fox. When he leaned into her, his arm brushing up against hers, she held her breath as she slowly and carefully laid her head on his shoulder. He didn't bolt or stiffen. Under her ear, his shoulder was warm and solid. She let out a soft sigh.
They remained tipped toward each other for a while. Jennifer luxuriated in the human contact. Since coming to Atlantis, she rarely got to touch people outside of a professional context, much less lean on them for support. She felt a slight pressure against her hair and realized that Ronon was breathing in her scent. She lifted her head and smiled in shy amazement. His face was close to hers, so close that her eyes flicked around trying to take in all of his expression. She didn't want to make the first move because she always got it wrong. Lab partners who grinned and leaned in close only to ask for her notes, co-workers at the holiday party who only wanted her roommate's number…
Ronon flinched and reached up to grab at his shoulder. "I think I might have done something pulling on the door."
Jennifer sat back. Of course she'd misjudged the situation again. She donned her professionally blank doctor's mask and knocked his hand aside with her own. "Let me see it."
Her hands slid over the sweat beading on his skin. She realized that the heat in the room had been rising ever since the ventilation died with the closing of the doors. She took a mental inventory of her own temperature and winced as she felt damp hair clinging to her neck and perspiration running down her face. Even if Ronon had been thinking about doing, well, something, he'd probably taken one look at her grossness and reconsidered.
"Hey." Ronon grasped both her hands in one of his and brought them back down to her lap. "It's nothing."
Then he cupped her face, sweeping a stray wisp of hair behind her ear, and nothing in the Pegasus galaxy could have made her move from that spot. "I want to kiss you, if that's okay."
"But I'm all sweaty and disgusting!" she protested over the roaring in her ears. "I bet I look like a drowned rat." She tried to stare downward, but his hand on her cheek kept her face turned towards him.
He shook his head. "You look real. I like real."
"I like you real, too – I mean you look really good – I mean…Oh!" she squeaked, and wished again for an Ancient device to save her from herself.
He chuckled. "Is that a yes?"
"Yes! Yes, I mean, well. You're—and I didn't expect you to... but, yes!" She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then opened them again. "Yes. Please."
He nodded, slid his hand into her hair and pulled her towards him as he leaned in to meet her.
The soft brush of his lips against hers was so faint that she could barely feel it over her pulse thudding in her ears. She lifted her face up to increase the pressure. Unfortunately, she couldn’t suppress the brief giggle that escaped when his mustache tickled her nose. He pulled back and his face went to stone as he let her go.
"Oh, no, I'm sorry! It's just—" She hastily scratched her nose. "Your beard. I haven't – I've never kissed a guy with a beard before. It felt…"
Ronon still looked closed off. Impulsively, she grabbed his face between her hands. "Let me try this again, OK?" She tilted him one way as she tipped her head the other, moving her hands down to his shoulders as she got closer. This time, their lips met in a solid contact. She could feel the tension in his shoulders as he held himself back, yet he kept the kiss gentle, letting her lead. His hands crept up to rest on her knees. When she risked a small darting lick to his bottom lip, Ronon's grip on her legs tightened. Jennifer gasped, and his hands dropped away.
He pulled back and mumbled "Sorry."
"No, that was good. That was…Wow." She knew her grin was beyond dopey, but she was way past caring.
"'S been a while," Ronon said with an embarrassed twist to his mouth. "I wasn't sure…I don't want to hurt you."
"I'm pretty resilient," Jennifer said, trying hard to sound light instead of desperate. "I have to admit, I guess I expected you to be a 'throw her up against a wall' kinda guy."
Ronon cocked his head, thought a moment, and shrugged. "OK."
Before she had a chance to respond or do more than draw in a shocked breath, he rose to his feet and dragged her up with him, his huge hands around her sides. She had a dizzy moment of looking up at him, then without a break in the momentum, her back was flat against the wall, her legs had been wrapped around his waist, and they were face to face.
"Like that?" he asked.
Dazed, she nodded.
"Good." And then he kissed her.
She lost track of the next several minutes as Ronon devoured her mouth, a starving man unleashed on a feast. When they came up for air, she realized that her arms were clinging around his neck and her legs were locked around his hips. They were pressed so tightly together that there was barely room for their gasping chests to expand. Then she recognized that she could feel every inch of his erection through the dampness between her legs as she rocked against him. She wondered if she was going to spontaneously combust from mortification.
Her mouth, momentarily freed from the most mind-blowing kiss she'd ever had and therefore completely disconnected from her overwhelmed brain, started babbling, "For the record, I wasn't trying to tell you what to do—I mean, be yourself, and everything, but that was more than Wow, that was like Fucking Amazing—"
"Jennifer," he said, in a deep, rough tone that she could feel rumble through their bodies. She waited for his next words, then realized what he was asking with the harshness of his breath, the trembling in his arms.
"Yes! Oh God, yes!" She frantically nodded in case he didn't understand her words and lunged to kiss him again.
She yelped when he lifted her even higher into the air and pushed up her shirt to nip at her breasts through her bra. The wet heat of his mouth sent sizzles of pleasure through her.
"Let me—" she gasped, tugging at the hem of her shirt. It took an agonized minute of fumbling to get the shirt over her head and her bra unhooked and tossed on the floor, and then bam! Her head whipped back as he fastened his mouth on a nipple and began to suck, alternating scrapes of his teeth with curling strokes of his tongue.
"Fuck, Ronon," she panted, weakly hanging on with limbs on nerve-tingling overload. "God!"
Then he switched to the other breast and somehow snaked a hand up between her legs, rubbing her roughly, and she was gone, coming with a muffled wail. She hung there, completely limp but pinned against the wall by the weight of his body. She petted his dreads absently as she tried to put her brain back in order. The scratching of his beard against her collarbones reminded her that she was half-naked while he was still fully clothed. Worse yet, judging from his panting, he was gallantly waiting for her to recover even though he was close to losing it.
"Oh," she managed. "That was…"
"Yeah?" Ronon said, smiling at her.
"Yeah." She patted his shoulders. "Can we move this to the floor? Your arms have got to be killing you."
"Nah," he said, but put her down anyway. "You're just a little thing."
"Hey!"
"Pretty little thing?" he offered hesitantly. She took a closer look. She couldn't be sure, but it seemed that Ronon was almost as nervous as she was. It made her feel a bit better. Several parts of her body chimed in with what she could do to feel a lot better, and she licked her lips.
"Floor," she said, pointing to the mattress at their feet.
"You first," Ronon replied with a grand gesture.
She grabbed his hand and swept his legs, sending them both crashing to the mattress beneath them. She knew that Ronon was humoring her when he landed on the bottom and she wound up leaning on his chest and straddling his legs.
"Nice," he smirked. "Teyla teach you that?"
"I may have taken a few lessons," Jennifer smugly replied.
He reached up to fondle her breasts, but she scooted down his body. He frowned. She felt the need to take his intense focus off of her, so she brushed a hand lightly over his groin, and his erection jumped under her fingers. She caught her breath at the outline it presented against his pants.
She squeezed him lightly as she said, "My turn." He grunted and bit his lip. She tried her best to undo the complicated knot tying his pants shut. Ronon gritted his teeth as her fumblings kept brushing against him.
"Let me," he growled, and made short work of yanking the strings apart and his pants down a few inches. She wasn't surprised to see that he went commando. She hooked her fingers in the waistband and pulled the pants down to his knees as he wriggled to help her. She knelt beside him as he gracelessly toed off his boots and finished removing his pants.
With that done, she turned her attention to his cock, which lay hard and long against his stomach. He was uncut, another non-surprise. It was the first time she'd seen an intact foreskin outside of an exam room, though, and she had to fight her initial urge to examine it clinically. She gripped him lightly, marveling at the feel of the skin moving with her hand.
"Jennifer," he groaned.
"What? Am I doing something wrong?" she asked, pausing mid-stroke.
"No!" he panted. "'S good. You're good."
"Would you mind if I…" she trailed off, wondering how to phrase her request. She was already pushing the boundaries of her previous experiences, and dirty talk at this point was out of the question.
"Whatever you want. Just don't stop." Ronon propped himself up on his elbows. "Please don't stop."
She turned her head away from his bold stare, feeling oddly shy, and pondered the cock in her hand. She leaned down and gently licked the tip. She was rewarded with a long and low growl. She thought back to a half-remembered bit of porn she'd seen. She opened her mouth, tucking her lips around her teeth and took the entire cockhead in her mouth, swirling her tongue around and under the foreskin. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ronon's head fall back. His hips started to twitch.
Pleased with his reaction, she started to bob up and down, licking and stroking at the same time, occasionally adding a twist or a squeeze. From the restrained jerking of his hips, he was trying hard not to thrust all the way into her mouth.
Just when she thought she had a nice rhythm going, Ronon growled, "Stop!"
Before she could ask him what she'd done wrong, he put a hand to her lips and took a couple of deep breaths. "I was gonna lose it. And I really wanna fuck you."
She grinned. "Oh!"
"It's been a long time. Since…" he paused. "Sateda."
"You mean you haven't…here? But anyone would have—"
He cut her off. "Jennifer." He gestured at his groin. "What do you—we—need?"
"Condom!" she blurted. "Oh, God, I hope—"
Luckily, a supply cabinet with condoms was in their section of the infirmary. She scrambled to retrieve a handful, stripping off her own pants as she went. Ronon raised an eyebrow as he shucked off his shirt. "How many times do you think we can fuck before the doors open?"
Jennifer blushed again. At this rate, her cheeks were going to be permanently stained red. "I haven't done this for a while, either, and I didn't want to have to get up again in case I, um, ripped it." She tore open the package and looked at him. "How do you want…"
"I don't know how to put that on. On Sateda, we used something different."
"Oh, no, I meant…" Doctor, she reminded herself. Clinical detachment. "Do you want me on the top or bottom?" she said in a rush, not quite meeting his eyes.
"What's your favorite?" he asked.
"Um, well, I'm not really, shall we say, all that experienced. I haven't decided on, ah, a preference."
He considered her a moment. "How about both? Top, then bottom."
"Great!" A plan – she was good with a plan.
She checked that the condom was rolling the right way and eased it over his cock. He stroked it lightly. "Weird."
"Is it OK?" she asked.
"We'll see." He grinned widely. "Now?"
"Oh yeah." She pushed his shoulders down and swung a leg over him. She gripped him lightly and eased his cock into her. She hissed slightly as she settled on to him. It had been a few years, and neither the last guy she'd been with nor her vibrator was as big as Ronon. She blessed her daily Kegel routine as she flexed and eased down to seat him fully inside.
Ronon groaned, "So good." Jennifer was pleased to note that his eyes had almost rolled back into his head.
She shifted a bit, getting used to the feeling of how deep he went inside her. With each motion, he set off cascades of twinges and ripples. Then she started to move up and down. It wasn't until she opened her eyes that she realized that they had fallen closed, lost in the sensation of his fullness sliding in and out of her. She looked up to see Ronon staring at her.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered hoarsely. She couldn't help but lean down to kiss him. His hands stroked down her back to cup her ass, his thumbs circling the base of her spine. She shivered at the touch. He bucked up into her in response. Unexpectedly, she felt herself toppling over the brink of another orgasm. Her muscles spasmed around him as she panted through it, her head pillowed on his chest, his name a soft chant on her lips.
His hands squeezed on her hips. "Flip you now?" he growled, his voice so low that it vibrated along her bones.
"Yes," she breathed, and hung on tightly as he whipped them around.
His first few thrusts were slow and shallow, but she could tell by his bitten lip that he was holding back. She ran her fingernails down his chest, scratching lightly at his nipples. He hissed and leaned into her touch.
"Ronon," she said, looking up at him. "I'm not going to break. Do it as hard as you want."
He shook his head and gasped under his breath, "Don't wanna hurt you."
"Ronon!" she replied. She planted her feet, heaved up with her hips, and squeezed him inside her as tight as she could. "Please!"
"Fuck!" he gritted out, and started pounding into her. She tried to keep pace with him, rising to meet his thrusts, but soon she could only brace herself to avoid being shoved across the floor. It didn't take long before his hips reached a frantic rhythm. She could feel her release hovering just out of reach, so she slid a hand in between them to her clit. It took a few flicks and then she was keening, lost over the edge. Ronon let out a muffled roar and slumped on top of her.
In a dazed sort of fugue, she noted that he was very large, and very heavy. She didn't realize that she had said it aloud until Ronon bit her gently on the neck and apologized before rolling off her. She had a moment of missing his warm bulk on top of her when he reached out a languid arm and gathered her into him.
"Hm," she said and rubbed her cheek against his chest.
"Hm," he agreed, dropping a kiss on her head.
They laid there for a few minutes, basking in a companionable silence. Then the lights went out.
"Crap!" Jennifer yelped, and fumbled for her clothes. "The quarantine! The doors!"
Ronon chuckled and helped her get reassembled and the area cleaned up, so when the doors slid open shortly thereafter, they only looked a little disheveled. She snuck in a brief kiss at the last second. "I gotta go," she complained. "I have to find out who needs treating."
"S'allright," he replied. "I know. Go."
She threw him a grateful smile and collected her team from the rejoined medlab. They left in search of news and potential victims.
Later, with the false alarm all sorted out and the crisis averted, Jennifer headed to the mess hall. She grabbed up a tray and some food, and turned to look at the tables. She noticed Ronon sitting with some of the senior personnel. She thought briefly about chickening out and taking the tray back to her room, then steeled herself and walked over to the group. Ronon was in the middle of talking.
"Hey, d'you hear? McKay thought it was a real outbreak. He even started getting sick! Thought he was, um ..." He trailed off as he noticed Jennifer. He jerked his feet of the chair next to him and sat up.
"Hey, uh ..."
Jennifer smiled at the group, trying hard not to single Ronon out. "Hi. Mind if I join you?"
"Sure, go ahead," Colonel Sheppard answered easily.
Jennifer glanced at Ronon and set her tray down, taking the chair next to him. He ducked his head awkwardly and glared at Sheppard and Teyla. They looked back at him, wondering at his sudden belligerence.
"What?" Ronon demanded.
Sheppard shrugged. "Nothin'."
Colonel Carter walked up and joined the group. Underneath the table, Ronon's foot slid over to Jennifer's and nudged her. She peeked sideways at him. He flashed her a brief grin and went back to picking at his food. The conversation continued around them, but all Jennifer could do was smile and laugh as their knees gently bumped together. She thought of the handful of condoms she'd stashed in her room and idly plotted how to get the doors stuck when they were both somewhere with a proper bed and all the time in the world.
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Date: 2009-02-15 04:03 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-16 04:13 am (UTC)