EAD Snippet ~ Under Pressure Chapter 3

Title: Under Pressure
Author: Saydria Wolfe
Series: Dark Horse, Book 2
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis, wearing my Sentinel-wolf-gate dress
Relationship(s): Daniel Jackson/Sam Carter, future John Sheppard/Ronon Dex
Content Rating: Mature, to be safe
Warnings: Sex happens because bonding. Head, rimming and anal sex.
Summary: The Pegasus side of events that happen at roughly the same time as Wake Me Up does on Earth. It starts and ends a little earlier.

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Previously posted on Rough Trade November 2014
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John is thoroughly amused when Ronon pokes him into a corner seat at breakfast. Thirty six hours into bonding and Ronon putting himself between John and the world is frustratingly endearing. Heavy on the frustrating but he decides he’s okay with it when Sam Carter maneuvers Daniel Jackson into a similar position on the opposite side of their table.

They are quickly joined by the other bonded pair and the senior unbonded sentinel and guide on the expedition.

“Ronon Dex, may I introduce you to our co-Chief Science Officers Dr. Samantha Carter and her guide Dr. Daniel Jackson. You’ve already met our Chief Medical Officer Dr. Carson Beckett, beside him is his sentinel, my second in command, Major Kelly Gibbs. Major Dean Bates, on your right, is our Head of Security. And finally, Lieutenant Laura Cadman. Her goal in life is to utilize explosives for acts of major property damage on every planet in any given galaxy.”

Cadman’s grin is just short of feral. “Surprised to see you two out of bed so soon.”

“Probably just for food unless something explodes.”

“And beating up Marines.” Ronon adds around a mouthful of food.

“Yea, Ronon feels the need to make his presence felt this afternoon.”

“Make it tomorrow afternoon and I’ll have a gym set up for you, sir.” Bates looked legitimately worried.”How does this affect the Chain of Command?”

“It doesn’t. This is still my command. We have some ideas but-.”

“You need time.” Carson concludes. “Congratulations on your new pairing.”

“Oh, yea, congratulations.” Daniel Jackson is distracted. Whether it was by his sentinel, his food, his tablet or something else is really anyone’s guess. “Carson mentioned that on Sateda guides are considered ‘Children of the Ancestors’.”

Ronon nods, not paying the geek much attention. John, however, is accustomed to Jackson’s behavior and knows he’s up to something. Probably something philosophical that no one will be able to prove either way until it bites them all in the ass.

“And?” John prompted.

“And. What if their right? We all have the ATA gene, right? And the Ancients are often described as having advanced mental gifts.”

“And Sentinels?”

“A protective measure? Engineered to guard their children?”

“I don’t believe Ancients would purposely experiment on humans.” Carson Beckett shake his head, clearly disturbed. “Not to mention how difficult it would be to create the kinds of genetic changes in a living organism that it would take to make sentinels? And to make those changes in such a way that they would remain basically unchanged and propagate without significant mutation for thousands of generations in at least two galaxies? No, not even the Ancients.”

“Soul mates?” Jackson is warming to the topic now. “We’ve all heard to variations of the legend all over our galaxy of how some vengeful god that -fearing the power of ancient humanity- tore our souls in half and scattered all the halves among the stars as a lesson.”

“That would explain why it’s so hard to find your bondmate,” Carson puts in, relaxing slightly.

“And why bonded pairs age slower and are harder to kill. We are closer to being Ancients again.”

“And why bonded pairs die together.” Did they practice this back-and-forth thing? “Once you have found your other half you can’t live without it.”

“But weren’t Ancients supposed to be scientists? Explorers? How do you explain guys like me? Or that new guy we left on Earth? Lorne is career Air Force, has seen lots of combat.”

“The Ancients couldn’t have fought as many wars as they did in as many galaxies without having soldiers, John.” Carter’s voice is solemn.

“And you’re selling yourself short.” Jackson adds. “I was in the lab with Jeanine when you called after defending your thesis. For your second Ph.D., she said. Aerospace Engineering, I believe.”

-*-*-*-*-

“Tell me about Sateda.” John’s voice is gentle, almost sleepy.

Ronon stretches out on the bed beside Sheppard, his hands skittering across John’s chest and arms. “On Sateda there is one city with permanent buildings, the City of the Ring. My fathers are, were, the Alpha pair of that city and the planet. My sentinel-father leads the defense of Sateda against the Wraith and all of our army. My guide-father is chieftain of the mundanes on Sateda.”

“Are there many mundanes on Sateda?”

“They are fewer than sentinels and guides but they are not a minority.

“Outside of the City there are 12 primary prides. Four territories. All in the north. There was talk of exploring the south when I left but no one wanted to be across an ocean from the Ring.” John groans. Not a happy groan. Not the kind of information John’s looking for then. “When new alphas bond-”

“Like us.” John pipes up.

“Like us.” Ronon agrees. “They spend two years apprenticing with a sitting alpha other than the ones they were born under.” John gives him wide eyes. Ronon shakes his head, this won’t apply to them. Because they are older and because of John. “After training the pair will either take a permanent place as an alpha’s second or they will form a pride of their own and take a tribe to settle offworld with them. The Athosians were such a thousand years ago.”

“How many-”

“I’m going to taste you now.” Ronon moves so he was between John’s legs, his face in the other man’s crotch. Ronon laves Sheppard’s cock and balls, taking the man’s taste and scent into his mind and body. Once again marking this man as home in his soul.

Ronon does his best to set the rhythm he himself likes. With one hand he plays gently with Sheppard’s balls and the other he wrapped around the base of his guide’s cock, feeding it into his mouth as he bobs his head. John’s cock feels great on the back of his throat, the roof of his mouth, the length of his tongue.

“Ronon, I,” Ronon growls, pleased when Sheppard comes in his mouth. He loves they way that this man’s body keeps responding to him. It doesn’t seem to matter how many times they pleasure each other, Sheppard was always ready to go again when his is.

Sheppard’s orgasm leaves his face unguarded and beautiful. He looks younger, his eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling. His jaw slack. His inky black hair standing like the crest of a wild bird.

Ronon rolls the other man onto his stomach and begins running his hands over Sheppard’s feet and legs, taking in the play of skin and muscles.

“Having fun there?”

“Yes.” Ronon runs his hands up John’s thighs. Sheppard goes up on his elbows and watches over his shoulder as Ronon spreads his ass checks. Ronon runs his tongue down Sheppard’s cleft and over his hole. Sheppard collapses boneless back onto the bed.

Ronon had never done this before. Not that he’s been with many men but he’s ever even contemplated something like this before. Now he can’t imagine not doing it, especially once Sheppard starts pressing back against his face greedily. The faint taste of washed out lube and Ronon’s last orgasm can’t hide the taste he craves, John’s taste.

“God, stop. Ronon, stop.” Ronon pulls back and allows his Guide to shift back onto his back. “You need to fuck me, buddy. I need you to fuck me.”

Ronon reaches for the lube where it lays almost forgotten on the floor beside the bed and slicks up Sheppard’s relaxed entrance. Despite or maybe because of John’s demands, Ronon takes his time because it’s fun and neither of them are actually accustomed to this behavior yet.

Not that he ever wants to be used to this. To do something stupid like take it for granted.

When he finally slides into Sheppard’s body they both groan throatily. Happy groans this time. He pulls the smaller man’s legs so that they ran up his chest and over his shoulders.

Ronon is trying to take it slow. He knows John hasn’t allowed anyone to touch him like this in years. Hasn’t allowed a lot of things for a long time but Sheppard loves being fucked. The man can get off with just anal play. Not even a cock, fingers could do it. Or a tongue.

It’s pretty great.

He feels Sheppard once again in his mind, like a warm and gentle wave. He can remember feeling this part of John’s mind waking during their first time together like a tundra lupus standing, bones creaking as it shakes off a thick layer snow after a storm. Slow, a little unsteady but definitely ready to hunt.

Making Ronon’s body and mind being both prey and pack. A fascinating contradiction.

This time the lupus of John’s mind is already up and running smoothly. Ears forward as it picks up speed. He can feel John’s relief at their bond, his joy in their physical connection. He can feel John’s desire to dig his nails into Ronon’s shoulders and bite his neck.

Ronon pushes John’s legs off his shoulders and down around his waist. He pulls John into a sitting position in his lap so his guide can reach.

John doesn’t hesitate, wanting to bite and claim just as much as Ronon wants him to.

Their anticipation makes the sensations more intense. So intense they come. Together. Bound too deeply in each other’s minds and bodies to do otherwise.

-*-*-*-*-

“On Sateda, a bonded Guide takes the mark of their sentinel.” Ronon turns his neck to emphasize the tattoo on the left side of his neck. “Without it you aren’t considered bonded and others will… attempt to court you.”

“We aren’t Satedan.” John counters.

“You are bonded to a Satedan.” Ronon shoot back. “And it will be expected of anyone else that bonds a Satedan. Sentinel or guide.”

“How would our sentinels come up with a mark?” Gibbs asked, frowns right back at her older brother when he makes what she calls his ‘brat face’. Yeah, John isn’t a tattoo kind of guy but there are more important things to be considered here. “I’d hate to murder someone if they made a play for Carson but I wouldn’t regret it and I wouldn’t hesitate. Don’t you think we should just take the high road and compromise? What did you call it earlier, John? ‘Building cross-cultural understanding?”

John is silent for a long time. Long enough to make Kelly wonder if he’s actually thinking, raffling through Ronon’s thoughts or just faking them out. It doesn’t help that Dex’s face is completely blank. He just waits for John’s nod and then continues the conversation like almost this entire conversation isn’t evidence of an almost creepy-level of devotion. Fucking honeymooners.

“Boxes, dots or stars represent the order you were born in. Three boxes marks me as third born. The rest is the Dex family sigil. Family sigil’s are formed by writing your family name with all the letters written on top of each other. The darkest lines become your family sigil.”

“Who’s alphabet?” Daniel Jackson wonders. His sentinel frowns at him from across the table.

“Your choice.”

“It would look cool in Cyrillic.” Jackson defends as Carter rolls her eyes and nods.

“You really want me to get a tattoo on my neck?” skepticism floods John’s voice.

Ronon’s nod is firm. “Guides are marked on the right, Sentinels on the left.”

“We don’t have a tattoo gun. Machine.”

“I’m sure Carson can make something that will work, Colonel.” Kelly actually kind of likes the glare that earns her.

-*-*-*-*-

It’s just over three weeks since they had arrived in Pegasus before they are ready to actually dial Sateda.

John had wanted to do it a week ago but it wasn’t like they were short on supplies yet so compromises could be made.

Sam’s gate analysis had taken a week and three days, twice as long as her original estimate. But. But they had learned a lot about Ancient programming that helped with the Ancient database. It also gave Sam’s two IT/programmer guys a feast of research projects.

On the other hand Bates had gotten labs and living arrangements sorted in that same week and three days. The Athosians were allocated their own tower 90 degrees around the face of the clock from Science and were calling it ‘Arx’ which apparently is Ancient for citadel. The expedition’s civilians were given the tower opposite Arx and were calling it ‘Hawking’ after Stephen. The military contingent was moved into a single tower on the opposite side of Control from Science and were calling it ‘Everett’ after the Expedition’s original leader.

John found their name choice almost too depressing for words. How could he sleep in a building named for a man he’d killed? Yea, it had been mercy but the man was still dead by John’s hand.

John and Ronon hadn’t moved into their new quarters, yet. So neither had Carter or Gibbs or their Guides.

Thank god for sentinels because the problem was solved before it became a real issue in their second official staff meeting, the first one Ronon was invited to and ‘awake’ for. Ronon -backed by Carter and Gibbs- argued the necessity of a Pride tower.

They felt it would minimize the territorial problems sentinels have with anyone they consider might be crowding their guide. It would increase everyone’s privacy. The Satedan was certain bonded pairs from Sateda would join the expedition and said that it was Satedan custom to provide bonded pairs with certain degrees of separation from everyone else. Even their unbonded brothers and sisters.

Two days of exploration later and Pride tower was assigned. Pride ended up being a large tower further out from Control as than the other four and a little closer to Everett than Arx.

Jackson and his crew of translators had a list of four possible alpha sites and a list of possible allies based on ten thousand year old information thoroughly seasoned by Athosian-provided intel by the time living quarters were settled and the gate was available for travel again.

They dial Sateda from M1A-642. John and Ronon step through first with a small security team.

The room they materialize in is a little bit larger in square footage than the gate room back at the SGC but with a lower ceiling. It’s made of heavy, old looking stones and had stone rows that were too high to be benches to plain to be art.

Blast walls? John wonders. He can’t see a DHD anywhere but there are definitely a dozen unbonded sentinels crouched behind the stone half-walls, holding weapons on the gate.

“By the Ancestors! Ronon Dex! You’re alive.” A tall blonde stands from her squatted position along the middle wall.

“Vesica.” Ronon greets. “Are my fathers?” alive is what he means to say be he can’t get himself to verbalize it.

The look she treats him to blatantly questions his intelligence. “Like anyone could make a move on the old snake. And you know the mundanes would put down anyone that looked funny at Talus.”

Ronon nods. “The rest of our party is waiting to come through.”

“How many?”

“Three civilians, six military.” John interjects, it is his expedition after all.

Vesica’s eyes lock on the still red edged mark on the right side of John’s neck. “Armed?”

John nods once.

“I can authorize that.”

John merely glances at a sergeant who immediately turns to his shoulder radio to call the second half through. The six-man security team came through first, followed by Carter and Jackson. Grodin is the last one through the gate.

Joy fills the air, followed quickly by hope and fear, finally settling into an aura of tension. Vesica isn’t responding to Ronon or his questions. She is just staring at his shoulder. Ronon looks to his guide because the younger man seems to know everything but John isn’t looking at him, he’s looking in the direction of the still active wormhole.

“Peter?” The emotional soap bubble pops at John’s voice. The entire room relaxes. “You want to do this?” He gestured toward Vesica.

The engineer just nods. His eyes are wide, his pulse racing.

“Here? Or at home?”

“Home.” Grodin clears his throat. “Back home.”

John speaks briefly into his own radio, advising Bates that Grodin is coming back through the gate plus one and is to be forwarded to Atlantis, code B-911.

The code, B-911, indicates a bonding emergency and would have the hall between the gate and the infirmary cleared. Protocol said you had to be cleared by medical after a mission and before you were allowed further in to the city to make sure no one brought anything horrible with them but sometimes a sentinel’s need out weighted other factors so they had installed three bonding suites with private showers along one side of the infirmary just in case.

“Can we dial the planet we just came from?” Ronon probably shouldn’t be surprised that John figured out who Vesica’s second is.

“If you have the address, I can take you to the dialing room.”

John uses the sign language all the Tau’ri seem to be familiar with to have now-Captain Stackhouse to advance with two men.

 

One Comment:

  1. I’m totally hooked on this. o/. Thanks for sharing on EAD!

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