Letting Go But Holding On

A/N: Thanks to Linda for the beta; any errors, etc, are mine alone.
Also, SGA aren't mine.


From the moment Ronon pressed down on Sheppard, ready to press into Sheppard, it just felt wrong. He was almost ready for the hands that suddenly came up, pushing at him, and the breathy, “No, Ronon, stop. I-just stop, okay?”

It took as much as he had in him to pull back, but he’d never force someone. He eased off Sheppard and sat on the edge of the bed, clenching his hands in the sheet to keep from getting himself off: what a good time to change your mind. Sheppard, on the other hand, didn’t move. He lay there, chest heaving in a way that had nothing to do with passion.

Ronon didn’t say anything; mostly because he wasn’t sure what to say.

Trust Sheppard to think his silence was a language of its own.

“I’m not a cock-tease,” he said defensively.

“Didn’t say you were,” Ronon came back.

Part of him still resented the abrupt change in mood; Sheppard had been all for this - it was his idea, not Ronon’s, although the Runner had been ready to drag him into the nearest closet or just rut against him in the mess hall if Sheppard took much longer to make his move, to realise he could have what he wanted if he just worked up the guts to take it.

Sheppard sat up and reached to the floor for his pants. “Fine.”

He fit a whole lot of meaning into that one word, but Ronon didn’t understand any of it.

As Sheppard stood up, ready to pull on his clothes, Ronon grabbed his arm and pulled him back down onto the bed. “No. Not fine.” He didn’t like the undercurrent here, the feeling there was something being said but not said.

The colonel yanked at his arm but Ronon held on tight, ready for the flash of rage in the hazel eyes as Sheppard’s head snapped around. “I said no; now let go. Now.”

Ronon held on and met Sheppard’s stare openly. It took a moment or two, but the anger faded like a dying light and Sheppard slumped, dropping his pants to the floor.

“Ow,” he protested; his hand reached up to prod at Ronon’s fingers.

Ronon let him go, frowning at the flushed band around Sheppard’s arm. The colonel kicked his heels into the mattress, pushing himself up the bed until his back was against the headboard. He tugged his knees into his chest and rested his forearms on them.

“Sorry,” he offered.

Ronon nodded but at the same time wanted more than an apology. He wanted to finish what they’d started but he also needed to know what exactly had happened because something had. “You wanted this; you told me to come.”

“Asked you, Ronon,” Sheppard said irritably. “I asked you. Don’t make it sound like I pulled rank or something.”

It wasn’t an answer, just avoidance. Much as Ronon wanted Sheppard, wanted him spread out beneath him, needful and hungry for him, this was a demand his patience didn’t have the stock to meet. Now it was his turn to reach for his clothes.

“Antarctica,” Sheppard blurted out, and that one word seemed to stop everything.

Ronon stilled, his shirt bunched in his hands. Sheppard had become a skittish animal and one wrong move might send him sprinting away in panic. He wasn’t good at this and it definitely wasn’t how he’d planned for things to go: he’d imagined much less talk and much more sex. Now he was getting even less talk than that, what with having to draw words out of Sheppard like poison from a wound.

He’d heard Sheppard mention Antarctica, once; so had a number of the others. All he knew was the place was cold and it didn’t sound like somewhere you’d choose to be. When Sheppard’s eyes met Ronon’s, the Runner saw something there that raised an edge in him and made him want to pull Sheppard close.

“Tell me.”

Sheppard’s eyes were slightly glazed, fixed on a single point on the wall. “You get a reputation for yourself – rightly or wrongly – sometimes it attracts attention. The wrong kind.”

Ronon edged a little closer; he felt a tremble moving through Sheppard, a barely perceptible vibration like a wire pulled taut. He rested his hand on Sheppard’s forearm and waited to see if he’d pull away or move towards him. Sheppard did neither; Ronon might have thought he didn’t feel the contact, except that he stilled under the touch.

“It was a near thing,” Sheppard said, his voice hard. “Someone walked in. He left me alone after that. Then he got reassigned.”

So that explains the panicked reaction, Ronon thought.

He took hold of Sheppard’s wrist. “I would never hurt you,” he said.

“I know,” Sheppard murmured, holding back and moving in at the same time, until Ronon was close enough to place a big hand on his cheek. “But for a minute, I was back there and he was on top of me…he was a big guy, Ronon. Even with all the hassle I’d had from him, I just never expected that.”

Ronon shook his head at the wariness in Sheppard’s voice. “It happens. You won’t always see it coming, especially in a place where you should be safe – like among your own men. We don’t have to finish this now – or at all. We’ll do whatever you want.”

Sheppard grinned but it was a humourless expression. He reached up to wrap his fingers around Ronon’s and squeezed. “You’re the first…since then. I don’t want you to be the last; if you see what I mean.”

Now it was Ronon’s turn to smile, but his was genuine. “I want to fuck you, Sheppard, not marry you.”

“Just as well you didn’t have to talk me into bed.” Sheppard closed the small gap between them as he brought his mouth to Ronon’s and opened to let him in.

It wasn’t like it was when they’d first staggered in here, bouncing off walls and furniture, nearly ending up on the floor at one point as they tried to remove their own and each other’s clothing at the same time. Now that he knew what had smothered that urgency and tamped it down into this slow burning spark, he’d take what he could get - whatever Sheppard was offering; but he wanted to encourage a little of the fire back into him if he could.

He started with his tongue, coaxing his way into Sheppard’s mouth. He took his time in letting Sheppard taste him. It was hard: the few chances he’d had at sex while playing quarry in the Wraith’s hunt had been fast and brutal. But he wasn’t on the run anymore and if he screwed this up, he knew it could break Sheppard. He wasn’t about to do that.

Sheppard split from him without warning, resting his forehead against Ronon’s lips.

“Uh…how are we going to do this?”

Ronon rubbed his hand up the back of Sheppard’s neck and felt another shiver that was totally different from the first. Sheppard pushed into the touch and Ronon did it again, as much for the response as to give himself time to think. How they were going to do this was something he hadn’t considered. He’d never been one for being underneath; he couldn’t quite get where he needed to be like that and he’d had enough fumbling false starts for today.

“Come on,” he said, pulling Sheppard’s arm as he climbed off the bed. Sheppard followed, looking puzzled.

Ronon turned around the chair next to Sheppard’s desk and sat down, spreading his legs a little. He found Sheppard staring down at him, one corner of his mouth turned up in a curious grin.

“Sheppard,” Ronon insisted and reached up to pull him down into his lap.

Sheppard tensed a little – this was obviously new for him – but Ronon reached around and moved his hands in tight little circles on his hips and back and gradually the pilot relaxed. It was new for Ronon too but right now he’d fuck Sheppard while standing on his head if that was what it took.

He shifted Sheppard’s weight slightly, adjusting him until he was just in the right place.

“Okay?”

Sheppard’s lips were a tight, thin line but he gave a sharp nod and braced his hands on Ronon’s shoulders.

Ronon slid in slowly, exhaling as he did, fighting to keep control. This was maybe better; Sheppard could set the pace, give and take as much as he chose. It was a slow, drawn out burn; Sheppard hissed and his fingers dug in hard so Ronon stopped and waited.

Finally Sheppard said, “Okay,” and Ronon pushed in a little further. Sheppard clenched down around him, like he was some foreign invader trying to breach his defences. Stilling again, Ronon shifted one hand up to cup Sheppard’s chin.

“It’s me,” he said and almost instantly Sheppard went loose. It was so unexpected that Ronon slide all the way in before he could guide Sheppard down at an easier pace.

Then it just felt right; Sheppard moved a little, bearing down around Ronon and pulsing him with tight little squeezes. Ronon felt the rush start deep and move like lightning straight through him. He wasn’t going to last long; in fact, it was looking up to find Sheppard staring at him, eyes wide and trusting, that sent him over and had him groaning, with Sheppard following seconds later.

“His name,” Ronon said as Sheppard leaned over him, arms loose and trembling around his shoulders.

“Mmm?”

Ronon poked him lightly in the ribs. “His name,” he insisted. Maybe it was stupid. He’d probably never get to see Earth; it was unlikely he’d ever find the man who’d caused this but he wanted to know his name anyway because you just never knew.

“Why?” Sheppard leaned back into Ronon’s supporting hands, his arms resting on Ronon’s shoulders. Ronon slipped out of him gently, wincing at the cold air that greeted his cock.

“Because I asked, Sheppard.”

Sheppard drew a warm line down Ronon’s jaw line and neck with his tongue. “You’ll probably never meet him, Ronon – and if you do, you can’t just shoot him like you’d do here.”

Shoot him? No, no, he had other plans than that. Nothing so quick. “Then there’s no reason you can’t tell me, is there?”

Sheppard stared at him for a long moment then finally leaned in close; his breath tickled as he whispered into Ronon’s ear.