Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Word Count: 1,107 words
Summary: In order to escape from the Wraith, one needs strong feet.
Author’s Notes: for kink_bingo, prompt Foot Fetish. Also: I’d like to warn everyone of the wraith commas. They ate all the “ands”…yeah, it’s bedtime.
Beta: The wonderful and amazing Ginny (ginny305)
On Sateda, Ronon thought quietly while wrapping a hand carefully around John’s ankle and holding it down, it had been paramount to be strong in order to join the fight against the Wraith, and being healthy had played an important role in that.
Satedans appreciated beauty, even if their perception of it was a little different from that of the Lanteans’. For a Satedan, the most beautiful thing was a healthy, strong body, capable of fighting.
A body like John Sheppard’s.
Slowly, he dragged his fingertips over the arch of John’s foot. John’s toes curled a bit at the gentle stimulation, but he didn’t try to pull away. Ronon smiled as he shifted and bent down to press his mouth to the protruding bones of his ankle and let his tongue sneak out to lick a broad stripe down to John’s toes.
“Buddy?” John’s voice was scratchy, he noticed, and rough, as if John hadn’t spoken in weeks. “Ronon?”
Ronon pressed another kiss to his foot before straightening and looking at John’s face. The color had risen high into John’s cheekbones, his pupils were blown wide, and his tongue was licking over his bottom lip in a mix of arousal and nervousness.
“If you want to fight against the Wraith,” he started, his voice low and soothing while his thumb slipped along the tips of John’s toes and gently rubbed them, “You need strong feet.”
John shifted slightly, but he didn’t try to move away. Instead he leaned up on his elbows to get a better view at Ronon, who took that as encouragement and bent his head down over John’s bare feet once more.
“If you want to escape from the Wraith,” Ronon continued while rubbing his thumbs over the sole of John’s left foot in brisk circles, “You need strong feet.”
He shifted to repeat the caress on John’s right foot, tracing the edge of his heel with surprisingly gentle fingers and pressing another kiss to the ankle.
“If you want to survive,” he murmured while slithering up John’s body, “You need strong feet.”
He smirked and pressed a kiss against the warm skin on the inside of John’s knee. “And strong knees.”
His fingertips ghosted over John’s semi-erect dick and then slipped under the hem of his black shirt, the only article of clothing the other man was still wearing. He pushed it up to John’s armpits and rubbed his nose against John’s abdomen, breathing in deeply while his fingers reached up to tease his nipples.
John’s breath hitched slightly, and he tangled one hand in Ronon’s dreads – to pull him off, or to hold him close, Ronon didn’t know. John’s grip wasn’t strong enough to stop him from what he had planned to do, and he simply ignored the small pains from John tugging his hair.
“Ronon,” John hissed and tightened his grip on Ronon’s hair. This time, he was definitely pushing him down, and Ronon went without resisting too much, until his mouth was level with John’s dick.
He breathed hotly over it before taking it into his mouth and pressing his tongue flatly against the underside. He’d been here, in exactly this position, often enough in the past to know exactly what John liked and to read the signs of impending orgasm. It only made him more determined in his ministrations, until John’s back arched and he came with a shout muffled by his own arm.
Ronon pulled back with a satisfied smirk and licked his lips while smoothing his broad palms down John’s thighs once more. If John had any objections to the touch, he was too worn out to voice it, and Ronon reached down to run his hands along his own erect cock lightly.
He glanced at John’s face again, realizing that the other man was watching him from half-closed eyes, and pulled one of his feet in his lap. John frowned slightly, especially when Ronon gently encouraged him to bend his leg slightly, but when Ronon pressed his erection against the bare sole of his foot, he bit his lip to stop himself from moaning at the unfamiliar sensation of soft skin covering the hard dick rubbing against his foot.
Ronon allowed his head to fall back at the stimulation of his over-sensitive flesh. One of his hands gripped his dick, pressing it tighter into John’s skin, while the other one traced random patterns on John’s calf, brushing through the coarse, dark hair he found there and occasionally tugging gently.
John whimpered quietly and curled his toes carefully. His foot was already slicked with pre-come, Ronon noticed with a quick glance downward as his erection rubbed against it again, slick silvery traces of body fluids clinging to the arch of it.
John shifted slightly. Ronon didn’t look up again, but his fingers closed around the foot pressed against his dick to prevent kicking.
He didn’t need to have worried. Carefully, John lifted his second foot into his lap and brushed his toes against Ronon’s balls.
The move was so unexpected and so highly erotic Ronon couldn’t stop himself. He jerked closer to John involuntarily as he came, his teeth bared, a grunt escaping his throat as his semen covered John’s feet liberally.
Slowly he dragged his finger through the mess, smearing the fluid over John’s feet and painting Satedan letters on John’s skin.
John sighed quietly and ran a hand through his dark hair, making it stick up even more than it already did. Ronon risked a quick glance in the other man’s face, to estimate his mood, but John seemed to be relaxed and didn’t have those tense lines around his eyes.
Ronon smiled and lifted John’s foot to his mouth once more to press a soft kiss to it and to swipe his tongue through the designs he’d just drawn. He would need to get up soon to return to his own room, and John would want to get cleaned up even before that, but for the moment, he enjoyed the companionable silence between them.
John raised his eyebrows and wriggled his toes slightly as he pulled his foot out of Ronon’s grasp. “Huh,” he said. “I never saw that one coming.”
Ronon laughed. “If you want to escape from the Wraith,” he said, “You need…”
“…strong feet, I get it,” John tossed in, and Ronon brushed his hand over his calf again.
“You need to be able to foresee what might happen,” he said with a wink.
And sometimes, he thought while ducking out of the way of the pillow John tossed in his direction, one just needed a little bit of luck.