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John sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at the body lying still beside him. He moved the dreadlocks aside and laid them over Ronon's shoulder, watching as he stirred next to him. But still, Ronon’s eyes remained closed.
John smiled, taking the time to stroke his fingers along the golden skin, running them up and down along Ronon's spine. He reversed his motion, moving them higher and running his finger over the raised scar between his shoulder blades. The anger that swelled inside of him surprised him after all of this time, but he figured that this would be something that would never stop bothering him. Not as long as there were any Wraith still out there. Alive. Whenever John thought of the seven years that Ronon spent as prey for those creatures - as nothing more than something they could use for hunting practice - it only helped to fuel his ever-growing hatred for them. Though it wasn't like he needed any more ammunition for that.
But now was not the time to dwell on that. Quiet moments like this were few and far between and John planned on taking full advantage of it. He lay down next to Ronon, the warmth of his skin seeping through the t-shirt and khakis that John wore. He propped himself up on his elbow and stroked his hand across Ronon's broad back once again, still amazed at the smoothness of the skin beneath his fingertips. He touched the scar once again and lowered his head, replacing his fingers with his lips, kissing the glossy-smooth mark.
Ronon stirred next to him and opened his eyes, a lazy smile spreading across his lips.
"Hey." His voice sounded sleep-warm and pretty damn sexy and John couldn't help but return the smile.
"Hey yourself. I was surprised you didn't wake up when I came in here."
"Mmm." Ronon stretched and John couldn't help but admire the muscles that flexed and released in front of him. "I know when it's you."
"How can you tell?"
Ronon just smiled and put his arm around John's waist, pulling him closer and taking his mouth in a rough, deep kiss. The lack of verbal response didn't escape John, but he really had no problem with this form of communication.
The bed was narrow and their bodies were pressed tightly together so neither would fall off the edge. Not that either of them were complaining about the lack of space. John wound his arm around Ronon and groaned into the kiss. He allowed his hand to move lower, slipping his fingers inside the back of Ronon's pants. That action brought a groan from Ronon, who shifted until he was lying on top of John, roughly pinning his arms above his head. Ronon pulled away from John’s lips and looked down at him, giving him a sexy smirk.
"How long do we have?"
Making no move to free his arms, John tilted his head back, catching a quick glimpse of the clock on Ronon's table.
"Just under two hours. Why? What do you have in mind?"
The feral smile that Ronon gave John made his cock twitch. Ronon must have felt it because he slowly rolled his hips, letting John feel what he had in mind.
"Yeah." John smiled, running his tongue along his lips. "We've got plenty of time for that.
~end