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kathierif_ficTitle: Touch
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: John Sheppard/Ronon Dex/Teyla Emmagan
Rating: FRT-13
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: He needs this. They don’t understand it, but they are still willing to oblige.
A/N: For kink_bingo, prompt spanking/paddling. 1416 words.
Teyla wrapped her arms around herself and breathed deeply and calmly as she took the often-walked path to the gym. It was late, the city around her quiet and peaceful.
Nobody should be here at this time of the night, but there still were the muffled sounds of stick hitting flesh echoing through the otherwise silent hallways.
She heaved a small sigh and passed her hand over the crystals to let her enter the room.
As she had expected, there were only two people here. Ronon looked as calm and slightly amused as usual when he was sparring, his muscles relaxed when they weren’t looking to strike out and his stance almost mocking. He moved with the grace of a predator, like an Earth tiger, despite the late hour and the fact that he had been here for hours.
John, on the other hand, looked more like the mouse the tiger was playing with. His t-shirt was wet with sweat, his hair slick. His face was red from exertion, and he was almost vibrating with tension.
Ronon gave her a grin in greeting and neatly sidestepped an attack from John, sweeping his feet from under him. He didn’t do anything to break John’s fall, and Teyla raised her eyebrows in question.
Ronon shook his head in reply, causing Teyla to roll her eyes slightly.
Ronon shrugged and turned his head slightly to the side. Teyla knew perfectly well what he was asking, and she nodded once.
It was time to change the game.
Ronon tossed her one of his sticks. She caught it expertly and toed off her soft Athosian shoes before calling out. “John?”
John flinched slightly, but then he straightened defiantly. “Teyla,” he greeted, as calmly as he could with his breathing still ragged and uneven. “Any news?”
She bowed her head slightly without taking her eyes off of him. “Dr. Keller assured me that Rodney will make a full recovery. He is merely resting at this point.”
John nodded jerkily. Teyla had not told him anything he had not known already.
“Hey. Not your fault,” Ronon growled. He gave John a tap with the remaining stick, a tap that almost made him stumble.
For the fraction of a second, the tense line of John’s shoulders seemed to relax, but then, the moment was over and he clenched his jaw.
“I should’ve noticed something was off,” he growled. “It’s my job to keep you guys safe.”
Ronon actually laughed at that and tapped John’s unprotected side with the stick again.
Again, his shoulders seemed to relax for a split moment.
Ronon and Teyla exchanged another look. Ronon twisted his face – John was vocalizing what was troubling him, Teyla thought, which was a good step. When they had started, he had not been able to do that so easily, and yet, he was not at ease yet.
They needed to take things into their own hands, for John’s sake. He would continue to beat himself up over the ambush in which Rodney had gotten hurt until Teyla and Ronon did it for him.
She did not have any other ideas to try, so she stepped closer and pressed her forehead against John’s.
He was vibrating with tension.
“Ronon, continue,” she said softly and stepped back.
The grin he gave her was wolfish. The stick came down on John’s backside with enough force to make John yelp, but it was the only sound escaping him, and Teyla knew that he would not appreciate if they stopped now.
“John,” she said firmly. “John.”
He glanced up at her.”
“Shall we go on?” Teyla wanted to know. “Is this what you need us to do, to take care of you?” She had to ask, had to be certain that it really was the right thing to do. She had approached Rodney and Carson with this topic, and they both had assured her that, while not exactly common, John’s behavior was not unheard of in certain circles. Both men had blushed and stumbled over her words as they had tried to explain the concept to her, and Teyla had done her best to understand.
She had not known that there were people who sought out pain like this, as a punishment for doing what had to be done, or for things they perceived they had not done right. She had not known and she did not understand how one could be willing to weaken himself when there were always the Wraith waiting for the next attack when everybody had to be at their strongest to escape and survive.
John hesitated for a moment, but then he nodded.
“Good,” Ronon said gruffly. “Then close the door and take off your clothes.”
John swallowed reflexively, but then, he did as Ronon had told him.
The rules for this were clear. They had gone over them again and again, and then, when Rodney had gotten over his discomfort, they had gone over them again, introducing safewords and safety protocols.
Rodney, Teyla thought as she observed John move, mapping out his body to determine which parts were off limits, was a good friend. He was probably the best friend John had, besides her and Ronon.
It was no surprise that John blamed himself for Rodney’s injury, knowing John as well as she did.
They tag-teamed him, escaping from furious counter-attacks and distracting him while the blows rained down onto his thighs and backside, creating more bruises and adding to those already scattered over his pale skin.
They used a mixture of Athosian and Satedan old ritual fighting styles for this, making sure to control their blows carefully. They were not holding back. Holding back would be disrespect for John, and they both cared for him too much, but they made sure not to hit areas that had previously been bruised or that could cause greater damage.
There was no timeframe for this. They would go on until John said stop, or until Teyla decided that John had taken enough abuse.
~*+*~
The sticks had left bright red welts on John’s skin, and they radiated heat when Teyla rubbed her palm gently across John’s backside. He exhaled softly into her hair and wrapped his arms tightly around her in a very Lantean way.
Ronon chuckled and pressed himself against John’s back. He leaned over John’s shoulder to press his forehead against the top of Teyla’s head, holding them together.
John coughed and moved slightly between them.
“How are you feeling?” Teyla asked, her voice soft and gentle.
John chuckled roughly and reached up, to brush his hair out of his forehead. “Better,” he admitted. “Thanks, guys.”
The radio that had been tossed onto the bench crackled to life.
“Sheppard, come and spring me from the infirmary, or bring me some real food,” Rodney’s voice filtered through the tiny device.
A smile slowly spread across John’s face as he squirmed out of Ronon and Teyla’s embrace and went to grab the radio.
“Sure, buddy,” he drawled. “Uh…give me twenty minutes, and we’ll bring you some food, okay?”
“Yeah, okay. Hurry,” Rodney whined, and John chuckled and pulled the radio off before dropping it down onto the bench.
They all knew that Rodney would not leave the infirmary. They also knew that he did not require any food. This was Rodney’s way of beating John up, making him fetch him things until John felt he had done enough penance. Rodney had his own ways of making sure John was all right, Teyla thought. He was a good friend, despite his claims otherwise.
“I need a shower,” John said before grimacing. “My ass hurts.”
Ronon laughed and moved closer to gently cup John’s backside again. “Yeah, not surprising. You want Keller to take a look?”
“Not really.” John leaned against Ronon for a second. “You want to shower?”
“Yeah.” Ronon said after exchanging a look with Teyla. They would shower together, bring Rodney a tray of food and then, they would take John back to her room.
There were other things besides spanking they wanted to do to John’s body.
“Shall we?” she asked and held out a hand. John reached for it, his fingers holding hers tight as they stepped into the shower room together. His muscles were loose and relaxed, his backside burning and, if Teyla was not mistaken, would remind him of tonight’s activities for quite some time, and he was smiling slightly because Rodney was fine.
Things were back to being all right.
~end.
Fandom: Stargate Atlantis
Pairing: John Sheppard/Ronon Dex/Teyla Emmagan
Rating: FRT-13
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: He needs this. They don’t understand it, but they are still willing to oblige.
A/N: For kink_bingo, prompt spanking/paddling. 1416 words.
Teyla wrapped her arms around herself and breathed deeply and calmly as she took the often-walked path to the gym. It was late, the city around her quiet and peaceful.
Nobody should be here at this time of the night, but there still were the muffled sounds of stick hitting flesh echoing through the otherwise silent hallways.
She heaved a small sigh and passed her hand over the crystals to let her enter the room.
As she had expected, there were only two people here. Ronon looked as calm and slightly amused as usual when he was sparring, his muscles relaxed when they weren’t looking to strike out and his stance almost mocking. He moved with the grace of a predator, like an Earth tiger, despite the late hour and the fact that he had been here for hours.
John, on the other hand, looked more like the mouse the tiger was playing with. His t-shirt was wet with sweat, his hair slick. His face was red from exertion, and he was almost vibrating with tension.
Ronon gave her a grin in greeting and neatly sidestepped an attack from John, sweeping his feet from under him. He didn’t do anything to break John’s fall, and Teyla raised her eyebrows in question.
Ronon shook his head in reply, causing Teyla to roll her eyes slightly.
Ronon shrugged and turned his head slightly to the side. Teyla knew perfectly well what he was asking, and she nodded once.
It was time to change the game.
Ronon tossed her one of his sticks. She caught it expertly and toed off her soft Athosian shoes before calling out. “John?”
John flinched slightly, but then he straightened defiantly. “Teyla,” he greeted, as calmly as he could with his breathing still ragged and uneven. “Any news?”
She bowed her head slightly without taking her eyes off of him. “Dr. Keller assured me that Rodney will make a full recovery. He is merely resting at this point.”
John nodded jerkily. Teyla had not told him anything he had not known already.
“Hey. Not your fault,” Ronon growled. He gave John a tap with the remaining stick, a tap that almost made him stumble.
For the fraction of a second, the tense line of John’s shoulders seemed to relax, but then, the moment was over and he clenched his jaw.
“I should’ve noticed something was off,” he growled. “It’s my job to keep you guys safe.”
Ronon actually laughed at that and tapped John’s unprotected side with the stick again.
Again, his shoulders seemed to relax for a split moment.
Ronon and Teyla exchanged another look. Ronon twisted his face – John was vocalizing what was troubling him, Teyla thought, which was a good step. When they had started, he had not been able to do that so easily, and yet, he was not at ease yet.
They needed to take things into their own hands, for John’s sake. He would continue to beat himself up over the ambush in which Rodney had gotten hurt until Teyla and Ronon did it for him.
She did not have any other ideas to try, so she stepped closer and pressed her forehead against John’s.
He was vibrating with tension.
“Ronon, continue,” she said softly and stepped back.
The grin he gave her was wolfish. The stick came down on John’s backside with enough force to make John yelp, but it was the only sound escaping him, and Teyla knew that he would not appreciate if they stopped now.
“John,” she said firmly. “John.”
He glanced up at her.”
“Shall we go on?” Teyla wanted to know. “Is this what you need us to do, to take care of you?” She had to ask, had to be certain that it really was the right thing to do. She had approached Rodney and Carson with this topic, and they both had assured her that, while not exactly common, John’s behavior was not unheard of in certain circles. Both men had blushed and stumbled over her words as they had tried to explain the concept to her, and Teyla had done her best to understand.
She had not known that there were people who sought out pain like this, as a punishment for doing what had to be done, or for things they perceived they had not done right. She had not known and she did not understand how one could be willing to weaken himself when there were always the Wraith waiting for the next attack when everybody had to be at their strongest to escape and survive.
John hesitated for a moment, but then he nodded.
“Good,” Ronon said gruffly. “Then close the door and take off your clothes.”
John swallowed reflexively, but then, he did as Ronon had told him.
The rules for this were clear. They had gone over them again and again, and then, when Rodney had gotten over his discomfort, they had gone over them again, introducing safewords and safety protocols.
Rodney, Teyla thought as she observed John move, mapping out his body to determine which parts were off limits, was a good friend. He was probably the best friend John had, besides her and Ronon.
It was no surprise that John blamed himself for Rodney’s injury, knowing John as well as she did.
They tag-teamed him, escaping from furious counter-attacks and distracting him while the blows rained down onto his thighs and backside, creating more bruises and adding to those already scattered over his pale skin.
They used a mixture of Athosian and Satedan old ritual fighting styles for this, making sure to control their blows carefully. They were not holding back. Holding back would be disrespect for John, and they both cared for him too much, but they made sure not to hit areas that had previously been bruised or that could cause greater damage.
There was no timeframe for this. They would go on until John said stop, or until Teyla decided that John had taken enough abuse.
~*+*~
The sticks had left bright red welts on John’s skin, and they radiated heat when Teyla rubbed her palm gently across John’s backside. He exhaled softly into her hair and wrapped his arms tightly around her in a very Lantean way.
Ronon chuckled and pressed himself against John’s back. He leaned over John’s shoulder to press his forehead against the top of Teyla’s head, holding them together.
John coughed and moved slightly between them.
“How are you feeling?” Teyla asked, her voice soft and gentle.
John chuckled roughly and reached up, to brush his hair out of his forehead. “Better,” he admitted. “Thanks, guys.”
The radio that had been tossed onto the bench crackled to life.
“Sheppard, come and spring me from the infirmary, or bring me some real food,” Rodney’s voice filtered through the tiny device.
A smile slowly spread across John’s face as he squirmed out of Ronon and Teyla’s embrace and went to grab the radio.
“Sure, buddy,” he drawled. “Uh…give me twenty minutes, and we’ll bring you some food, okay?”
“Yeah, okay. Hurry,” Rodney whined, and John chuckled and pulled the radio off before dropping it down onto the bench.
They all knew that Rodney would not leave the infirmary. They also knew that he did not require any food. This was Rodney’s way of beating John up, making him fetch him things until John felt he had done enough penance. Rodney had his own ways of making sure John was all right, Teyla thought. He was a good friend, despite his claims otherwise.
“I need a shower,” John said before grimacing. “My ass hurts.”
Ronon laughed and moved closer to gently cup John’s backside again. “Yeah, not surprising. You want Keller to take a look?”
“Not really.” John leaned against Ronon for a second. “You want to shower?”
“Yeah.” Ronon said after exchanging a look with Teyla. They would shower together, bring Rodney a tray of food and then, they would take John back to her room.
There were other things besides spanking they wanted to do to John’s body.
“Shall we?” she asked and held out a hand. John reached for it, his fingers holding hers tight as they stepped into the shower room together. His muscles were loose and relaxed, his backside burning and, if Teyla was not mistaken, would remind him of tonight’s activities for quite some time, and he was smiling slightly because Rodney was fine.
Things were back to being all right.
~end.