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kathierif_ficTitle: The Trust Game
Fandom: SGA
Pairing: John/Ronon/Teyla
Rating: FRM
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: “It is called the trust game.”
A/N: kink_bingo fic, prompt sensation play. 1354 words.
“Relax,” Ronon rumbled and pressed his thumbs tightly into the softness at the inside of John’s wrists. “Are you scared about this?”
John grimaced and shifted his shoulders defiantly. “I’m not scared of you and Teyla,” he declared, his words slow, clear and pointed. “I just…”
“You want to know what our intentions are,” Teyla supplied helpfully and sat down on the edge of John’s bed. She was naked, her hair still wet and slicked back from her shower.
John’s gaze followed the single drop of water running along Teyla’s skin, dripping off of her collarbone and slowly running into the valley between her breasts.
“Yeah,” he admitted and licked his lips absent-mindedly. “That would be good.”
“Do you not trust Ronon and me to fulfill your desires and bring you great pleasure?” Teyla asked, a wicked teasing gleam in her eyes.
“I trust you,” John answered an shifted his shoulders again. “You know I trust you guys.”
Teyla grinned and leaned over him, her fingers carefully tangling in his hair as she angled his head to the side and pressed her forehead to his before kissing him briefly.
“Very well,” she decided after a moment and gave Ronon a quick glance. “We shall explain to you what we have planned.”
Ronon’s hands released John’s wrists and allowed him to sit up. John crossed his legs and raised his eyebrows as he waited.
“What we are trying to do, John,” Teyla said and nodded at Ronon, “is an old Athosian game.” She didn’t try to touch him while explaining, and Ronon, too, was keeping his hands to himself. John appreciated that. He didn’t like the touch of someone else when he needed his head clear, and both Teyla and Ronon understood that without ever having been told.
“A game?” he asked.
Teyla smiled. “Yes,” she answered. “The trust game.”
“It’s easy,” Ronon continued. “You just lie there, close your eyes, and guess what we’re touching you with.”
“Why is it called the trust game?” John asked, and Ronon shrugged.
“Don’t know. Probably because traditionally, you get bound and blindfolded and you have to trust the other person.”
“I can see that,” John muttered. “Hard to fight back if the thing pressed to your chest is a Wraith hand.”
Ronon and Teyla both looked pained for a moment, but they didn’t disagree, and John swallowed thickly.
“Okay,” he said, his voice rough.
Immediately, Ronon’s arms wrapped around him, pulling him sideways into a tight hug, and then Teyla leaned her forehead against his again and smiled brilliantly at him.
“We are not going to tie you, or blindfold you,” she said. “Instead, you will keep your arms over your head and your eyes closed on your own.”
John smiled. “Okay.”
“Lie down, then. On your back.” Both of them released him and gave him room to spread out on the bed, his arms stretched over his head and his legs slightly spread.
John closed his eyes.
“We will begin now,” Teyla announced. “If you need us to stop, let us know.”
John nodded. “I—okay.”
Softness brushed against his side in an obvious caress, then across his stomach. It was light, and it almost felt like Teyla’s hair, but not quite.
“Feels like silk,” John said after a moment before grinning. “That green fabric you bought at that marketplace a few weeks ago, for a bag of Tava beans.”
“Yes,” Teyla answered. She didn’t stop brushing it against his stomach.
A second touch came to the inside of his knee, smooth, but rougher than the silk. It was sturdier, warm to the touch and almost slick.
“Leather,” he said. “Something you wear, Ronon – that wrist thing?”
Ronon chuckled. “Yeah.” He wrapped it loosely around John’s shin.
A new touch brushed against his left nipple, moving in tight circles. It had a rough edge, and it circled until the nipple was hard and pebbled, then it disappeared.
“I don’t know,” John admitted.
“No problem,” Ronon grumbled playfully. “Next?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. Freezing cold was pressed to the same nipple, and John hissed and arched his back as the cold object was trailed slickly down the center of his chest and stomach.
“Ice,” he gasped.
“Correct,” Teyla answered and blew on the wet trace of the ice cube she or Ronon had used. It made John shiver.
He grinned. “Air.”
Ronon kissed him deeply, his tongue pushing into John’s mouth greedily and tracing the inside of his teeth.
“Mouth,” John said breathlessly once Ronon let him up for air.
The same rough edge as before returned to his left nipple. Teyla hummed quietly, and then, his nipple was pinched, hard enough to make him twitch involuntarily, but not hard enough to be really painful. The feeling settled into a dull throb that didn’t stop and sent waves of sensation skittering along his nerve endings.
“Some sort of clamp?” he managed to guess around a gasp.
“Close enough,” Ronon decided and flickered his other nipple with rough, calloused fingertips. “Clothespin.”
John grunted. Something warm ran along his inner thigh, toward his balls, but he was too distracted by the sensation of the clothespin on his nipple to identify it.
Hot wax was dripped onto his other nipple, a sweet-smelling liquid slowly slid down the length of his hard dick, quickly followed by the hot wet suction on Teyla’s mouth, which he managed to identify correctly.
Slowly, the sensations began to run together. John started to sweat when Ronon’s fingers, bigger and longer than Teyla’s, pressed into him, slick and deft, his thumb brushing teasingly against the back of his balls and thoroughly distracting him as Teyla scratched something that felt a little like teeth and a lot like pure bliss and agony rolled into one along the inside of his outstretched arm.
His whole body started to feel on fire as they continued, his breath coming in short gasps and his arms and legs starting to tremble.
Just as it started to become too much, too intense, a hand brushed along his sweaty forehead, brushing away his hair.
“Two more,” Teyla told him. She sounded out of breath, aroused and almost desperate, a little like John felt, too.
“Okay,” he gasped. Two more things he could handle.
His legs were pushed apart and a familiar body slipped in between his thighs, strong, big and well-muscled. John arched his pelvis up and groaned softly when Ronon’s hard dick pushed deep and slick into him, spreading him wide and holding him open as he slid deeper and deeper, until John could feel Ronon’s balls against his ass and the rough hard texture of his thighs under his own.
“Okay?” Ronon growled.
John needed a moment before he could bring himself to talk, before his vocal chords could be persuaded to work properly and he croaked, “Yeah.”
“John,” Teyla asked, “are you ready for the last one?”
This time, he could only nod, throat working, but no word was escaping from his lips.
And then, Teyla kneeled across him, probably propped up against Ronon’s strong shoulder, and took him into her, surrounding his dick with tight heat and soft wetness. John didn’t know if he made any sound when they started rocking into his body. All he could hear was the rush of blood in his ears as his senses – smell, touch and hearing – were overwhelmed with sensation and overloaded into an orgasm so intense his entire body was shaking and tingling.
Later, when John was asleep, Ronon nibbled on Teyla’s ear and asked, “Are we gonna tell him how much of that was real?”
Teyla smiled and put the little Ancient device she’d gotten from her father into its pouch before placing it into her drawer, hiding it among her clothing.
“No,” she said with a smile and pulled the blanket up to John’s shoulder. “Trust me, it is for the best this way.”
Ronon chuckled and pulled her down, into the middle of the bed. “Well,” he said and kissed her cheek before turning off the lights, “and now I know why it’s called trust game.”
~end.
Fandom: SGA
Pairing: John/Ronon/Teyla
Rating: FRM
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: “It is called the trust game.”
A/N: kink_bingo fic, prompt sensation play. 1354 words.
“Relax,” Ronon rumbled and pressed his thumbs tightly into the softness at the inside of John’s wrists. “Are you scared about this?”
John grimaced and shifted his shoulders defiantly. “I’m not scared of you and Teyla,” he declared, his words slow, clear and pointed. “I just…”
“You want to know what our intentions are,” Teyla supplied helpfully and sat down on the edge of John’s bed. She was naked, her hair still wet and slicked back from her shower.
John’s gaze followed the single drop of water running along Teyla’s skin, dripping off of her collarbone and slowly running into the valley between her breasts.
“Yeah,” he admitted and licked his lips absent-mindedly. “That would be good.”
“Do you not trust Ronon and me to fulfill your desires and bring you great pleasure?” Teyla asked, a wicked teasing gleam in her eyes.
“I trust you,” John answered an shifted his shoulders again. “You know I trust you guys.”
Teyla grinned and leaned over him, her fingers carefully tangling in his hair as she angled his head to the side and pressed her forehead to his before kissing him briefly.
“Very well,” she decided after a moment and gave Ronon a quick glance. “We shall explain to you what we have planned.”
Ronon’s hands released John’s wrists and allowed him to sit up. John crossed his legs and raised his eyebrows as he waited.
“What we are trying to do, John,” Teyla said and nodded at Ronon, “is an old Athosian game.” She didn’t try to touch him while explaining, and Ronon, too, was keeping his hands to himself. John appreciated that. He didn’t like the touch of someone else when he needed his head clear, and both Teyla and Ronon understood that without ever having been told.
“A game?” he asked.
Teyla smiled. “Yes,” she answered. “The trust game.”
“It’s easy,” Ronon continued. “You just lie there, close your eyes, and guess what we’re touching you with.”
“Why is it called the trust game?” John asked, and Ronon shrugged.
“Don’t know. Probably because traditionally, you get bound and blindfolded and you have to trust the other person.”
“I can see that,” John muttered. “Hard to fight back if the thing pressed to your chest is a Wraith hand.”
Ronon and Teyla both looked pained for a moment, but they didn’t disagree, and John swallowed thickly.
“Okay,” he said, his voice rough.
Immediately, Ronon’s arms wrapped around him, pulling him sideways into a tight hug, and then Teyla leaned her forehead against his again and smiled brilliantly at him.
“We are not going to tie you, or blindfold you,” she said. “Instead, you will keep your arms over your head and your eyes closed on your own.”
John smiled. “Okay.”
“Lie down, then. On your back.” Both of them released him and gave him room to spread out on the bed, his arms stretched over his head and his legs slightly spread.
John closed his eyes.
“We will begin now,” Teyla announced. “If you need us to stop, let us know.”
John nodded. “I—okay.”
Softness brushed against his side in an obvious caress, then across his stomach. It was light, and it almost felt like Teyla’s hair, but not quite.
“Feels like silk,” John said after a moment before grinning. “That green fabric you bought at that marketplace a few weeks ago, for a bag of Tava beans.”
“Yes,” Teyla answered. She didn’t stop brushing it against his stomach.
A second touch came to the inside of his knee, smooth, but rougher than the silk. It was sturdier, warm to the touch and almost slick.
“Leather,” he said. “Something you wear, Ronon – that wrist thing?”
Ronon chuckled. “Yeah.” He wrapped it loosely around John’s shin.
A new touch brushed against his left nipple, moving in tight circles. It had a rough edge, and it circled until the nipple was hard and pebbled, then it disappeared.
“I don’t know,” John admitted.
“No problem,” Ronon grumbled playfully. “Next?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. Freezing cold was pressed to the same nipple, and John hissed and arched his back as the cold object was trailed slickly down the center of his chest and stomach.
“Ice,” he gasped.
“Correct,” Teyla answered and blew on the wet trace of the ice cube she or Ronon had used. It made John shiver.
He grinned. “Air.”
Ronon kissed him deeply, his tongue pushing into John’s mouth greedily and tracing the inside of his teeth.
“Mouth,” John said breathlessly once Ronon let him up for air.
The same rough edge as before returned to his left nipple. Teyla hummed quietly, and then, his nipple was pinched, hard enough to make him twitch involuntarily, but not hard enough to be really painful. The feeling settled into a dull throb that didn’t stop and sent waves of sensation skittering along his nerve endings.
“Some sort of clamp?” he managed to guess around a gasp.
“Close enough,” Ronon decided and flickered his other nipple with rough, calloused fingertips. “Clothespin.”
John grunted. Something warm ran along his inner thigh, toward his balls, but he was too distracted by the sensation of the clothespin on his nipple to identify it.
Hot wax was dripped onto his other nipple, a sweet-smelling liquid slowly slid down the length of his hard dick, quickly followed by the hot wet suction on Teyla’s mouth, which he managed to identify correctly.
Slowly, the sensations began to run together. John started to sweat when Ronon’s fingers, bigger and longer than Teyla’s, pressed into him, slick and deft, his thumb brushing teasingly against the back of his balls and thoroughly distracting him as Teyla scratched something that felt a little like teeth and a lot like pure bliss and agony rolled into one along the inside of his outstretched arm.
His whole body started to feel on fire as they continued, his breath coming in short gasps and his arms and legs starting to tremble.
Just as it started to become too much, too intense, a hand brushed along his sweaty forehead, brushing away his hair.
“Two more,” Teyla told him. She sounded out of breath, aroused and almost desperate, a little like John felt, too.
“Okay,” he gasped. Two more things he could handle.
His legs were pushed apart and a familiar body slipped in between his thighs, strong, big and well-muscled. John arched his pelvis up and groaned softly when Ronon’s hard dick pushed deep and slick into him, spreading him wide and holding him open as he slid deeper and deeper, until John could feel Ronon’s balls against his ass and the rough hard texture of his thighs under his own.
“Okay?” Ronon growled.
John needed a moment before he could bring himself to talk, before his vocal chords could be persuaded to work properly and he croaked, “Yeah.”
“John,” Teyla asked, “are you ready for the last one?”
This time, he could only nod, throat working, but no word was escaping from his lips.
And then, Teyla kneeled across him, probably propped up against Ronon’s strong shoulder, and took him into her, surrounding his dick with tight heat and soft wetness. John didn’t know if he made any sound when they started rocking into his body. All he could hear was the rush of blood in his ears as his senses – smell, touch and hearing – were overwhelmed with sensation and overloaded into an orgasm so intense his entire body was shaking and tingling.
Later, when John was asleep, Ronon nibbled on Teyla’s ear and asked, “Are we gonna tell him how much of that was real?”
Teyla smiled and put the little Ancient device she’d gotten from her father into its pouch before placing it into her drawer, hiding it among her clothing.
“No,” she said with a smile and pulled the blanket up to John’s shoulder. “Trust me, it is for the best this way.”
Ronon chuckled and pulled her down, into the middle of the bed. “Well,” he said and kissed her cheek before turning off the lights, “and now I know why it’s called trust game.”
~end.