Stargate: Atlantis, Ronon/Rodney, trust me, I'm good at this
"Trust me, I'm good at this." It was Ronon who had said it that first time, right before he had cut through Rodney's skin with the sharp blade of his knife.
Rodney had kept his eyes fixed on the dark, curling hair next to Ronon's scalp, loose for a bare few millimeters before it was constrained and twisted into the dreads that hung heavy down his back. Rodney hadn't looked away from that spot on the top of Ronon's head until the last tugging pull of the sutures was only a memory burned into his mind, and Ronon had finished wiping away the blood. The row of tiny stitches were neat and even, clearly the work of an expert. The transmitter had been tossed aside to lay in a puddle of sticky blood on the floor at their feet. Rodney had smashed it with the heel of his boot.
"You going to faint if you stand up?" Ronon had asked.
Rodney had thought it likely but he had stood and swayed and didn't faint, and then they had started walking. Ronon's hand had hovered near Rodney's back, ready to catch him, but he had not fallen.
+++
"Trust me, I'm good at this." It was Rodney who said it the next time.
Ronon was leaning against the tree they had slept under the night before. He didn't say anything; he just looked down at Rodney with one eyebrow raised in challenge. Rodney settled himself on the folds of his leather jacket, carefully not wincing at the pain in his right knee. He slid his hands inside Ronon's pants and around Ronon's hips, enjoying the hot flush of Ronon's skin against his chilled hands. Ronon's skin was hot everywhere, as hot as the taut, inflamed skin surrounding the incision on Rodney's arm. He bent his head and licked a stripe up the length of Ronon's cock and had to listen carefully to hear the soft exhale of Ronon's breath. He fit his mouth over the head and swirled his tongue, and Ronon made the tiniest sound of pleasure. Rodney took a deep breath, full of the ripe musk of Ronon's body, and he sucked Ronon into the wet heat of his mouth. He bobbed his head and listened to his own breaths whistle through his nose, and when the muscles of Ronon's thighs tightened under his hands, he sucked harder and faster until Ronon was coming in his mouth. Any sounds Ronon made were lost in the rush of blood in Rodney's ears. When he wiped his lips and looked up, Ronon had his eyes closed, but the tight lines of pain and exhaustion around his mouth were gone. Rodney grimaced at the sharp shot of pain in his knee as he stood.