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SGA Drabbles

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Sheppard grabbed Ronon and forced him down into the copilot's seat with an annoyed, "Sit. Down."

For a minute and a half there was silence and he relaxed, just a little, thinking perhaps this time Ronon had got the message. He should have known better, for as soon as he stopped glaring Ronon was back on his feet, pacing the width of the Jumper.

"I'm bored," he said.

"You could have gone with Rodney and Teyla to check out those 'fascinating' energy readings." John scanned the distant ridge again, hoping that in the ninety seconds since his last scan, Teyla or Rodney had miraculously appeared and they could all get the hell off of this boring little rock.

Ronon grunted at him and moved into the rear compartment, his footsteps quickly replaced with rustling noises, the sound of crinkling cellophane. He moved back up into the cockpit, leaned up against a bulkhead.

"There's no food."

For a moment, John considered telling Ronon where Rodney kept his stash of powerbars, but the thought of having to listen to McKay bitch all the way back to Atlantis quite handily outweighed the momentary reprieve he would gain from sharing such information with an antsy Ronon. So, instead, he turned in his chair until he was facing Ronon and said, "I can think of something more interesting to do than eat."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

John stood up and kissed him.

He got beamed in the eye with one of Ronon's dreads, and he made a mental note to set aside a couple of hours when they got back to Atlantis to teach Ronon about the wonders of dental hygiene, but other than that it wasn't bad as far as first kisses went. Ronon was oddly pliant in his arms -- mostly from the surprise, John was sure -- and he smelled nice, of leather and oil.

It was an unusual experience, having to tilt his head up, and it began to grow uncomfortable fairly quickly, his neck complaining bitterly at having to hold his head at an awkward angle. So, when Ronon did nothing to force him away, John pressed the attack, drove Ronon back until he felt Ronon hit the low benches in the rear compartment. One more push -- a nudge, really -- and then Ronon was sitting down and John stepped forward, put his knees on either side of Ronon's legs.

There. That was better.

John broke the kiss and stared down at Ronon. "Still thinking about food?"

Ronon grinned up at him, and he unzipped Sheppard's vest, pushed it open, and they were at just the right height for him to tease Sheppard's nipples through his shirt.

"Still want to eat," he said, soft and low and laughing as John suddenly grabbed his shoulder.

"Just don't bite me," Sheppard said, mostly focused on the feeling of cloth gliding across his suddenly sensitive flesh and, damn, maybe this was the reason McKay always looked so...perky. "I bruise."