Ficlet: The Blame Game -- Sheppard/Dex
When an abandoned eclair becomes fair game ...
The Blame Game
It was all Rodney's fault for leaving a damn chocolate-covered eclair on the control station next to John. Normally, he wouldn't have abandoned pastry under any circumstance short of death, but when Elizabeth got that icy tone in her voice, it wasn't a wise thing to ignore her. So, Rodney left and the eclair stayed.
It was all Ronon's fault for deciding that the law of finders-keepers applied to pastry as well as intriguing weapons. He sat down in Rodney's chair and eyed the chocolate covered temptation. Then he looked at John. “That McKay's?”
“You know taking that is a death-wish,” John said wrily.
“So?”
“So, you're poaching pastry from a man who has been known to destroy solar systems.”
Ronon's brow raised. “Not if he doesn't know who took it.” He picked up the pastry and gestured to a hapless radio-tech. “Maybe it was him … or one of the marines.” He grinned at John. “It's time to stand down.”
John looked at his watch. Ronon's eyes were wicked. He took a suggestive lick of chocolate, his tongue running the length of the eclair, and John's cock sprang to attention. God, the man would kill him someday … Ronon nibbled at the tip of the eclair and swirled his tongue around the bead of cream.
John grabbed his P90 from next to his chair. “We're off the clock right now!” He stabbed a finger at Ronon. “My room. Bring the damn eclair. And if Rodney turns us into lab rats the next time we go through the gate, it's your fault!
Ten minutes later, John lay gasping on his bed, a smear of chocolate on his mouth and a tell-tale scent of vanilla clinging to his skin. Ronon lay next to him, magnificently naked and obviously sated with sugar and sex.
'"Colonel Sheppard, please report to the control room … "
John groaned, reached for his clothes and dressed. He was on his way to the door when Ronon caught his arm and kissed him, his tongue licking the chocolate from the corner of John's mouth. “Sweet,” he whispered roughly.
“If McKay kills me, at least I'll die happy,” John said and returned the sweetness to Ronon. “I'll tell him it was Elizabeth's fault.”
The End
Note: Inspired by the prompt "Sweet Tooth" by Gaffsie
The Blame Game
It was all Rodney's fault for leaving a damn chocolate-covered eclair on the control station next to John. Normally, he wouldn't have abandoned pastry under any circumstance short of death, but when Elizabeth got that icy tone in her voice, it wasn't a wise thing to ignore her. So, Rodney left and the eclair stayed.
It was all Ronon's fault for deciding that the law of finders-keepers applied to pastry as well as intriguing weapons. He sat down in Rodney's chair and eyed the chocolate covered temptation. Then he looked at John. “That McKay's?”
“You know taking that is a death-wish,” John said wrily.
“So?”
“So, you're poaching pastry from a man who has been known to destroy solar systems.”
Ronon's brow raised. “Not if he doesn't know who took it.” He picked up the pastry and gestured to a hapless radio-tech. “Maybe it was him … or one of the marines.” He grinned at John. “It's time to stand down.”
John looked at his watch. Ronon's eyes were wicked. He took a suggestive lick of chocolate, his tongue running the length of the eclair, and John's cock sprang to attention. God, the man would kill him someday … Ronon nibbled at the tip of the eclair and swirled his tongue around the bead of cream.
John grabbed his P90 from next to his chair. “We're off the clock right now!” He stabbed a finger at Ronon. “My room. Bring the damn eclair. And if Rodney turns us into lab rats the next time we go through the gate, it's your fault!
Ten minutes later, John lay gasping on his bed, a smear of chocolate on his mouth and a tell-tale scent of vanilla clinging to his skin. Ronon lay next to him, magnificently naked and obviously sated with sugar and sex.
'"Colonel Sheppard, please report to the control room … "
John groaned, reached for his clothes and dressed. He was on his way to the door when Ronon caught his arm and kissed him, his tongue licking the chocolate from the corner of John's mouth. “Sweet,” he whispered roughly.
“If McKay kills me, at least I'll die happy,” John said and returned the sweetness to Ronon. “I'll tell him it was Elizabeth's fault.”
The End
Note: Inspired by the prompt "Sweet Tooth" by Gaffsie