Title: Worthy
Author: silentflux
Fandom: Stargate: Atlantis
Pairing: Ronon Dex/Evan Lorne
Rating: FRM
Prompt: “A slavish act isn’t always the act of a slave”
Kink: Power Play
Warnings: *coughs* Slash *coughs*
A/N: Thanks to 
freetodream5 for the encouragement and shaydra7 for the ultra-quick beta. *loves*
Written for 
rounds_of_kink. Prompted by thady – hope this was what you were looking for, hon
*~*~*
It was subtle – unspoken. And it took Evan a while to even notice. When he finally did notice, he was sure he’d misinterpreted everything. There was absolutely no way that this was real. It had to be just his own twisted brain getting lost in the Pegasus galaxy. Something.
Standing silently in a mind numbing debriefing about something he didn’t care about, he decided the best way to figure out if it was all in his head was to look at the facts. So, he catalogued everything he could remember.
Ronon always walks one step behind him whenever they are on the move together. Always. The only time it’s more than one step is if it is strategically sounder for him to be back farther.
The imposing Satedan always hands Lorne just what he needs without question or comment. Once, they were pinned down and covering Sheppard and Teyla’s movements. Just as Evan had run out of clips, another appeared in front of him as Ronon continued firing. Evan blinked once in surprise before snapping the mag home and throwing out suppression fire.
Another time, the mess had run out of butterscotch pudding. Lorne loved butterscotch pudding, especially when it was cold – no whipped cream. Sighing in disappointment after inquiring with Nancy, the cook, he’d turned, without pudding, to find a seat. On his way out, Ronon had paused beside him, deftly sliding a large bowl of the pudding onto his tray, and took off before Lorne had even muttered his thanks. After settling down and eating the main course, staring at the pudding the entire time, Evan took a bite. Chilled to perfection.
He’d promised himself that he’d think about this – what it meant. But there was always some crisis, always some imminent threat. It had become normal for him to be hopped up on adrenaline 90% of the time. It was draining yet satisfying. However, there was no time to think, no time to let go. No time for anything, really.
But there was time now. And it was later. They were setting up the duty rosters for the upcoming Christmas holiday in Atlantis. No one wanted to be on duty, of course. Lorne figured since he’d used up his last canvas during the last lull, he’d volunteer. Well, really, he’d volunteer after being bribed. What good were comrades in arms if you couldn’t finagle some bribes for working holidays?
As the briefing continued, he thought on Ronon and all the details he’d catalogued. He still couldn’t quite wrap his head around it. Why him? Wouldn’t Sheppard have been a better choice? Of course, Ronon most likely didn’t want to upset the dynamics of their team, most notably John and Rodney, so maybe Sheppard was off limits.
Lorne smirked to himself as he rolled all the possibilities around in his head, straightening and running around the curves of them, completely oblivious to his audience.
Both John and Ronon had seen the flicker of lust and amusement dancing in the other man’s eyes. Sheppard darted a surreptitious glance at his teammate and then back to Lorne, smiling to himself. This could prove to be interesting.
It was like a dance, Lorne mused. He had no problems with snark when he was backing up Sheppard’s team. However, when it was just Ronon, he lapsed into an uneasy silence before he settled. Like new jeans not quite broken in, the silence would chafe slightly at odd times. Not so much uncomfortable as just an odd hyperawareness.
Ronon’s heavy expectant gaze always pushed at something in his chest, his amazing body heat radiating at a temperature Lorne thought couldn’t possibly be normal, and the palpable presence and solidity of the man – it all pressed in around him constantly whenever the Satedan was near.
Since Evan had met Ronon, he’d been able to distinguish moods of the taciturn man, even if their teams only worked missions together occasionally. It was an interesting display. Anger, hatred, violence – all burst out of Ronon with no barriers, no control. It was other emotions that got lost in the shuffle and drowned out in the noise. But Lorne watched carefully to see the soft amusement and affection behind the overly loud annoyance with Rodney; the respect and admiration shining in his eyes when sparring fiercely with Teyla; and the devotion that went beyond a soldier to a commander for Sheppard. It was all there, laid bare in Ronon’s eyes for anyone with the will to see.
He was calculating exactly how many bribes he had collected when a small sound behind him alerted him to someone’s presence.
”Lorne.” The familiar rumble of Ronon’s voice skated over his spine deliciously.
“Merry Christmas, Ronon,” Evan greeted cheerfully, turning to see the large man dressed in his usual leathers leaning against a console.
“Merry Christmas.” The greeting was returned affably enough, but Lorne knew the Satedan had no real grasp what they were celebrating. The silence settled over them as usual, Evan studying the other man through hooded eyes. Finally, he decided he wanted to know.
“Why.” The word was stark and soft all at once after he’d thrown it out between them. Ronon tilted his head and didn’t pretend to misunderstand.
“Because I find you worthy.” Lorne couldn’t help the warmth that spread through him at those words, and he nodded shortly, unaware of how his eyes shined up at the Satedan in the darkness of a sleeping Atlantis.
Ronon stayed with him for the rest of the watch, both of them easing into the comforting silence that wrapped itself around them.
When the morning shift came in, Lorne nodded to them, handing off the post and heading to his room. He hadn’t paid attention to where the other man was – though he knew that Ronon would follow.
When they reached his quarters, Evan didn’t look at him, didn’t speak to him, just stripped as he headed to the shower in his room. When he reemerged, he saw Ronon standing right where he’d left him, head up and eyes fixed at some point beyond the windows out to sea.
Wearing only a towel, feeling the water drop from his hair and run along chilled skin, he shivered and moved closer to the Satedan.
“Ronon.” There was only that word, rife with command and expectation. Ronon’s eyes flickered to Evan’s and the smaller man raised his brow. Nodding, Ronon stripped. Evan’s breath caught as more and more tanned, bronzed and mocha colored skin was revealed with every movement until nothing was left.
Dropping his wet towel, Lorne stepped up into that personal space that he always left as sacred to anyone, letting Ronon’s heat chase away the slight chill as he mapped skin with his hands, appraising. Scars and smooth soft skin and coarse hair all gave way under his fingertips. The only sign that Ronon was nervous was the flutter of his stomach muscles as Evan’s fingers explored.
Once his hands knew every inch of skin, including the hard cock jutting against his hip, Evan reached up, buried his hands in Ronon’s hair and brought his lips down for a taste. Moaning at the richness of it, he forced his tongue inside that heat and drank his fill, the larger man giving back everything he could.
But Ronon didn’t touch. He hadn’t been given permission.
Smiling as he pulled back, knowing that Ronon saw the predatory gleam just as Evan saw pupils blown wide with need and felt the quickened pulse beneath his fingers, he ordered, “Bed.”
And Ronon went. There was no question, no hesitation. Smooth skin and tight wet heat opened up and was laid bare beneath him.
No movement except what he allowed, no sound except what he coaxed from that body, no release until his harsh voice barked out the command and he drank down everything the other man gave him.
“Worthy?” he panted as they lay spent and tangled in the sweat-damp sheets. A murmured agreement was his reply as large hands finally touched and pulled him close in the morning light, eyes suddenly heavy and Evan lost time to blinking.
“Merry Christmas.”
