SGA Fic: What the Wall Sees (Rodney/Ronon)
Title: What the Wall Sees
Fandom: Atlantis
Pairing: Rodney/Ronon
Length: 1700 words
Rating: NC17
Notes: Written for the Hot, Hard and Against the Wall Challenge at wallsmut. So...yeah. Mostly smut. *g* As always, many thanks to audrarose for the beta.
What the Wall Sees
By Sori
the first time
"Ronon." Rodney gasped out the name, not quite wanting to figure out how he got from walking down the hallway ranting (mostly to himself he liked to think) to pressed, hard and hot, up against the wall of a deserted corridor on one of Atlantis' lower levels.
"Fuck," he ground out, teeth clenched against the feeling of work-roughened, callused hands pulling at his clothes, lifting up his shirt and insistently undoing his pants, trying to get to skin.
"What…?"
"Shut it, McKay. Just go with it," Ronon said, sounding too calm, too not-desperate, as he pressed closer and licked smoothly into Rodney's mouth.
Rodney moaned and wrapped his arms around Ronon's waist, pulling him closer until Rodney could feel the hard length of Ronon's cock pushing into his stomach. He opened his mouth, let Ronon in deeper, so deep that Rodney couldn't remember whether he was resisting or instigating or just feeling -- Ronon in control, taking control, wringing gasps from them both with strong hands and hard touches.
Ronon reached inside, first Rodney's pants and then his own, and pulled out their cocks, letting them bump wetly together, wrapping his big hand around them both and starting a smooth even stroke. Slower than Rodney needed, faster than Rodney wanted, but so good, keeping them both right on the edge for almost too long.
Ronon moaned, pulling back and bracing one arm against the wall, gasping breathlessly, and maybe saying "Rodney" in a deep, growling voice that brought Rodney even closer to the edge.
Quick fucks didn't involve words; didn't allow for softly gasped names. It was only more and harder and faster. Everything else was filed away and saved for when something more than just getting off mattered. But knowing this didn't stop Rodney from threading his fingers into Ronon's dreads, thick and coarse, holding on hard and moving into the touch. He could pretend that tomorrow he'd be able to step through the gate with Ronon and not remember touches and cocks and long, nasty kisses that left him staggering, weak-kneed and desperate.
Because fucking was mostly like solving a proof - all angles and momentum and letting instinct guide you when the known science stopped short. It was instinct, not strict theory, that made for great breakthroughs. And right now, it was instinct opening Rodney's mouth and wrapping the word, "Ronon" around his tongue like the last decimal in an almost impossible equation.
the twenty-third time
He slammed Ronon against the wall, fast and hard, and Rodney had to fight back the grin at Ronon's low growl. Quick, they had to be quick, it wasn't going to be long before someone was calling them on the radio demanding a status report.
"Fuck." Ronon's hands were already winding through Rodney's hair. "Quick. Got to be -." Rodney interrupted him with a slow, wet swipe of tongue along the length of Ronon's cock. Ronon threw his head back against the wall, his long neck exposed and looking more vulnerable than Rodney was used to seeing him.
Control. Rodney could feel it. The control over Ronon and his body, all splayed out, shirt hanging open, pants hitched apart. Waiting for Rodney because, right now, Ronon was his.
He palmed Ronon's balls in one hand, rolling them softly and teasing out Ronon's moan with sucking kisses that started at the base of his cock and ended with Rodney's mouth wrapped around the tip, Ronon's hips thrusting with every slow, tight suck.
Wanting. Needing. Demanding.
Rodney had never been the sort that reacted well to demands. In bed or out of bed, it never mattered - he knew the right way and if anyone else didn't get that, well, that was their problem, not his. But Ronon's hips were moving, his hands tugging Rodney's hair, pulling Rodney where Ronon wanted, groaning low and needy, and tasting like all kinds of desperate.
Demanding that Rodney give him what he wanted, how he wanted it. Reminding Rodney roughly that this wasn't about Rodney; it was about them and this -- whatever this was exactly.
Rodney looked up to see Ronon forcing his eyes open, dazed and out-of-focus, hands trembling softly in Rodney's hair. He captured Rodney's eyes with his own and wouldn't let go - asking, so obviously asking that Rodney groaned.
He wrapped his hands and mouth around Ronon and stopped thinking and just started to give.
the two-hundred-and-thirty-second time
Ronon's hands grabbed at Rodney's ass, pulling him up, hitching him closer, pressing him harder against the wall. Their hands scrambled, desperately clumsy, against each other wanting more and closer and now.
"Ronon." Rodney pulled back and reached up, touching Ronon's face. He let his thumb trace along lips, his fingers brush across cheek bones and stubble. "Ronon," he said again, just to hear the word, feel it roll off his tongue and know that he could say it. Just a few hours ago, he hadn't known even that much.
"I thought you'd…," Rodney gasped, letting his forehead rest against Ronon's, their mouths hovering close, tasting the air between them, thick and sour with fear.
I thought you'd died or I thought I'd lost you and Rodney couldn't decide which was exactly the truth. Somehow, there was a difference in meaning, but mostly Rodney thought it just didn't matter - he was here and Ronon was with him and they were alive and together. He didn't want to stop touching skin and hair and Ronon even though sex was the last thing on his mind.
"Fuck." Rodney pulled Ronon's lips down, brushing against them strangely soft for two people that usually preferred fast and hard and against any convenient out-of-the-way surface. He didn't look at his still shaking hands or at Ronon’s clothes where the blood had soaked in, dirty and red, and entirely too close.
"Yeah." Ronon wrapped his arms around Rodney, holding tight and burying his face into Rodney's neck. "Yeah."
the four-hundred-and-fifteenth time
Rodney's forehead rested against the wall, Ronon's body pressed close against his back, moving slowly, in and out, easy and familiar, their fingers entwined tightly against the cool, not-quite-metal of Atlantis' wall.
He groaned, embarrassingly loud, as Ronon leaned down and trailed his lips across Rodney's neck. Small nibbles, smooth flicks of tongue, hard sucking that Rodney knew would leave marks that his uniform wouldn't cover.
"No marks," he ground out, clenching his teeth and tightening his fingers in Ronon's. "No marks."
Ronon growled, thrusting harder and Rodney stopped caring about marks; stopped caring about anything except Ronon's hand clasped between his fingers, Ronon's cock buried deep, Ronon's voice in his ear.
Stopped caring that anyone could walk around the corner and see them - naked and needy and desperate for -
One final touch.
Rodney came with a staggering breath, his knees weakening. Ronon's arms quickly wrapped around him, shaking, but not letting him fall.
now
"So," Rodney said, staring at the wall with a smile on his lips. "Once more for old times’ sake?"
Ronon shook his head; the well-known almost smile pulling at his lips. He still looked disgustingly young, Rodney thought, despite the gray at the temples and the laugh lines etched shallowly into his skin. Rodney figured it was a testament to how badly Atlantis how screwed him up that laugh lines had somehow became sexy.
"Nah. I'd rather wait. When we get there, maybe we could do that thing in the elevator again." Ronon waggled his eyebrows and Rodney felt the blush heat up his cheeks. It was entirely unfair that Ronon had ever been able to make him blush, much less that he could still do so after this many years. But…the elevator thing.
Possibly blush worthy; definitely worth repeating.
"Yeah. I think-." Rodney cleared his throat and reached out to pull gently on the belt loop of Ronon's pants. "We could do that."
"Thought you'd agree." Ronon moved closer, crowding into Rodney's personal space, letting their bodies brush together. He leaned down and let his lips softly wander against Rodney's in an easy kiss. "I'll miss this place," Ronon said, pulling back and cupping the back of Rodney's neck with his hand.
"Yeah. We can visit," Rodney said, tugging at Ronon's shirt, holding him close. "Sheppard's still here, and Teyla, and they're just on the mainland which is only a gate trip and puddlejumper ride away, and that's not so far away, really. They just built that new cabin so you know they're not going anywhere. And Lorne will probably be here till he dies because I can't see him ever giving up the military commander position and…."
"Rodney," Ronon said as he wrapped his arms tightly around Rodney's waist and walked backwards until Ronon's shoulders hit the wall and Rodney's body rested firmly against him. "Shut up, would you?" He asked, leaning down and licking into Rodney's mouth, fast and hard and, God, so good. No doubt why they'd spent years doing this, right here on this wall, all but waiting for someone to walk around the wrong corner and catch them with shirts open and pants unbuttoned.
"I know. I'm babbling." Ronon chuckled against Rodney's mouth. "Shut up, right?"
"Yeah. Works for me," Ronon said, grabbing Rodney's ass and hauling him closer. "We'll be back, you know." He whispered the words, letting his tongue trail out, following the sounds into and around Rodney's ears.
"Elevator, remember?" Rodney pushed away from Ronon, stepping back and taking a deep breath. Ronon was right - they would be back: to Atlantis, to their friends, to this wall. He didn't need another memory to add to his collection. The ones he had were enough.
"Ready now?" Ronon asked, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. He fell into step next to Rodney as they started walking away.
Rodney stopped at the corner of their hallway. He reached out and touched the wall, felt the cool metal thrumming softly under his hand, alive with possibilities. Everything he'd wanted, everything he'd had and somehow, it was still time to go.
"Yeah, I'm ready," Rodney said, turning back toward Ronon, and grinning a little because possibility wasn't limited only to Atlantis. He had a whole other world to rediscover. He figured that this time, it'd probably be enough for him.
Walking away, he let his fingers brush across the walls.
Atlantis glowed.
-End-
Fandom: Atlantis
Pairing: Rodney/Ronon
Length: 1700 words
Rating: NC17
Notes: Written for the Hot, Hard and Against the Wall Challenge at wallsmut. So...yeah. Mostly smut. *g* As always, many thanks to audrarose for the beta.
What the Wall Sees
By Sori
the first time
"Ronon." Rodney gasped out the name, not quite wanting to figure out how he got from walking down the hallway ranting (mostly to himself he liked to think) to pressed, hard and hot, up against the wall of a deserted corridor on one of Atlantis' lower levels.
"Fuck," he ground out, teeth clenched against the feeling of work-roughened, callused hands pulling at his clothes, lifting up his shirt and insistently undoing his pants, trying to get to skin.
"What…?"
"Shut it, McKay. Just go with it," Ronon said, sounding too calm, too not-desperate, as he pressed closer and licked smoothly into Rodney's mouth.
Rodney moaned and wrapped his arms around Ronon's waist, pulling him closer until Rodney could feel the hard length of Ronon's cock pushing into his stomach. He opened his mouth, let Ronon in deeper, so deep that Rodney couldn't remember whether he was resisting or instigating or just feeling -- Ronon in control, taking control, wringing gasps from them both with strong hands and hard touches.
Ronon reached inside, first Rodney's pants and then his own, and pulled out their cocks, letting them bump wetly together, wrapping his big hand around them both and starting a smooth even stroke. Slower than Rodney needed, faster than Rodney wanted, but so good, keeping them both right on the edge for almost too long.
Ronon moaned, pulling back and bracing one arm against the wall, gasping breathlessly, and maybe saying "Rodney" in a deep, growling voice that brought Rodney even closer to the edge.
Quick fucks didn't involve words; didn't allow for softly gasped names. It was only more and harder and faster. Everything else was filed away and saved for when something more than just getting off mattered. But knowing this didn't stop Rodney from threading his fingers into Ronon's dreads, thick and coarse, holding on hard and moving into the touch. He could pretend that tomorrow he'd be able to step through the gate with Ronon and not remember touches and cocks and long, nasty kisses that left him staggering, weak-kneed and desperate.
Because fucking was mostly like solving a proof - all angles and momentum and letting instinct guide you when the known science stopped short. It was instinct, not strict theory, that made for great breakthroughs. And right now, it was instinct opening Rodney's mouth and wrapping the word, "Ronon" around his tongue like the last decimal in an almost impossible equation.
the twenty-third time
He slammed Ronon against the wall, fast and hard, and Rodney had to fight back the grin at Ronon's low growl. Quick, they had to be quick, it wasn't going to be long before someone was calling them on the radio demanding a status report.
"Fuck." Ronon's hands were already winding through Rodney's hair. "Quick. Got to be -." Rodney interrupted him with a slow, wet swipe of tongue along the length of Ronon's cock. Ronon threw his head back against the wall, his long neck exposed and looking more vulnerable than Rodney was used to seeing him.
Control. Rodney could feel it. The control over Ronon and his body, all splayed out, shirt hanging open, pants hitched apart. Waiting for Rodney because, right now, Ronon was his.
He palmed Ronon's balls in one hand, rolling them softly and teasing out Ronon's moan with sucking kisses that started at the base of his cock and ended with Rodney's mouth wrapped around the tip, Ronon's hips thrusting with every slow, tight suck.
Wanting. Needing. Demanding.
Rodney had never been the sort that reacted well to demands. In bed or out of bed, it never mattered - he knew the right way and if anyone else didn't get that, well, that was their problem, not his. But Ronon's hips were moving, his hands tugging Rodney's hair, pulling Rodney where Ronon wanted, groaning low and needy, and tasting like all kinds of desperate.
Demanding that Rodney give him what he wanted, how he wanted it. Reminding Rodney roughly that this wasn't about Rodney; it was about them and this -- whatever this was exactly.
Rodney looked up to see Ronon forcing his eyes open, dazed and out-of-focus, hands trembling softly in Rodney's hair. He captured Rodney's eyes with his own and wouldn't let go - asking, so obviously asking that Rodney groaned.
He wrapped his hands and mouth around Ronon and stopped thinking and just started to give.
the two-hundred-and-thirty-second time
Ronon's hands grabbed at Rodney's ass, pulling him up, hitching him closer, pressing him harder against the wall. Their hands scrambled, desperately clumsy, against each other wanting more and closer and now.
"Ronon." Rodney pulled back and reached up, touching Ronon's face. He let his thumb trace along lips, his fingers brush across cheek bones and stubble. "Ronon," he said again, just to hear the word, feel it roll off his tongue and know that he could say it. Just a few hours ago, he hadn't known even that much.
"I thought you'd…," Rodney gasped, letting his forehead rest against Ronon's, their mouths hovering close, tasting the air between them, thick and sour with fear.
I thought you'd died or I thought I'd lost you and Rodney couldn't decide which was exactly the truth. Somehow, there was a difference in meaning, but mostly Rodney thought it just didn't matter - he was here and Ronon was with him and they were alive and together. He didn't want to stop touching skin and hair and Ronon even though sex was the last thing on his mind.
"Fuck." Rodney pulled Ronon's lips down, brushing against them strangely soft for two people that usually preferred fast and hard and against any convenient out-of-the-way surface. He didn't look at his still shaking hands or at Ronon’s clothes where the blood had soaked in, dirty and red, and entirely too close.
"Yeah." Ronon wrapped his arms around Rodney, holding tight and burying his face into Rodney's neck. "Yeah."
the four-hundred-and-fifteenth time
Rodney's forehead rested against the wall, Ronon's body pressed close against his back, moving slowly, in and out, easy and familiar, their fingers entwined tightly against the cool, not-quite-metal of Atlantis' wall.
He groaned, embarrassingly loud, as Ronon leaned down and trailed his lips across Rodney's neck. Small nibbles, smooth flicks of tongue, hard sucking that Rodney knew would leave marks that his uniform wouldn't cover.
"No marks," he ground out, clenching his teeth and tightening his fingers in Ronon's. "No marks."
Ronon growled, thrusting harder and Rodney stopped caring about marks; stopped caring about anything except Ronon's hand clasped between his fingers, Ronon's cock buried deep, Ronon's voice in his ear.
Stopped caring that anyone could walk around the corner and see them - naked and needy and desperate for -
One final touch.
Rodney came with a staggering breath, his knees weakening. Ronon's arms quickly wrapped around him, shaking, but not letting him fall.
now
"So," Rodney said, staring at the wall with a smile on his lips. "Once more for old times’ sake?"
Ronon shook his head; the well-known almost smile pulling at his lips. He still looked disgustingly young, Rodney thought, despite the gray at the temples and the laugh lines etched shallowly into his skin. Rodney figured it was a testament to how badly Atlantis how screwed him up that laugh lines had somehow became sexy.
"Nah. I'd rather wait. When we get there, maybe we could do that thing in the elevator again." Ronon waggled his eyebrows and Rodney felt the blush heat up his cheeks. It was entirely unfair that Ronon had ever been able to make him blush, much less that he could still do so after this many years. But…the elevator thing.
Possibly blush worthy; definitely worth repeating.
"Yeah. I think-." Rodney cleared his throat and reached out to pull gently on the belt loop of Ronon's pants. "We could do that."
"Thought you'd agree." Ronon moved closer, crowding into Rodney's personal space, letting their bodies brush together. He leaned down and let his lips softly wander against Rodney's in an easy kiss. "I'll miss this place," Ronon said, pulling back and cupping the back of Rodney's neck with his hand.
"Yeah. We can visit," Rodney said, tugging at Ronon's shirt, holding him close. "Sheppard's still here, and Teyla, and they're just on the mainland which is only a gate trip and puddlejumper ride away, and that's not so far away, really. They just built that new cabin so you know they're not going anywhere. And Lorne will probably be here till he dies because I can't see him ever giving up the military commander position and…."
"Rodney," Ronon said as he wrapped his arms tightly around Rodney's waist and walked backwards until Ronon's shoulders hit the wall and Rodney's body rested firmly against him. "Shut up, would you?" He asked, leaning down and licking into Rodney's mouth, fast and hard and, God, so good. No doubt why they'd spent years doing this, right here on this wall, all but waiting for someone to walk around the wrong corner and catch them with shirts open and pants unbuttoned.
"I know. I'm babbling." Ronon chuckled against Rodney's mouth. "Shut up, right?"
"Yeah. Works for me," Ronon said, grabbing Rodney's ass and hauling him closer. "We'll be back, you know." He whispered the words, letting his tongue trail out, following the sounds into and around Rodney's ears.
"Elevator, remember?" Rodney pushed away from Ronon, stepping back and taking a deep breath. Ronon was right - they would be back: to Atlantis, to their friends, to this wall. He didn't need another memory to add to his collection. The ones he had were enough.
"Ready now?" Ronon asked, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. He fell into step next to Rodney as they started walking away.
Rodney stopped at the corner of their hallway. He reached out and touched the wall, felt the cool metal thrumming softly under his hand, alive with possibilities. Everything he'd wanted, everything he'd had and somehow, it was still time to go.
"Yeah, I'm ready," Rodney said, turning back toward Ronon, and grinning a little because possibility wasn't limited only to Atlantis. He had a whole other world to rediscover. He figured that this time, it'd probably be enough for him.
Walking away, he let his fingers brush across the walls.
Atlantis glowed.
-End-