stargateficrec | At His Fingertips - by Kriadydragon (PG+, Gen)

Show: SGA
Rec Category: John/Ronon
Characters: John Sheppard, Ronon Dex
Pairings: None
Categories: Gen, Friendship, H/C, Angst, Drama
Warnings: None
Author on LJ:

kriadydragon
Author's Website: The Dragon's Lair
Link: At His Fingertips

Why This Must Be Read:

black_raven135 emailed me some time back and said, "you must read this fic". Well I read slash, and NC-17 slash at that, so I was sceptical of what I was going to get out of it. But I read it and I loved it! It has my two favourite guys in the lead roles and it's fantastically written. The visual descriptions of the world that Sheppard has been involuntarily plunged into are woven so brilliantly that you feel as if you are with him, and Ronon, every step along their heartbreaking and almost always scary, yet enlightening, journey. I was captured and held a willing hostage from the very first sentence.

“I'm not going to hurt you,” he whispered. The words were useless but it was hard not to say them.

Sheppard struggled for a moment longer until Ronon forced his hand to follow a single rope of hair. His team leader stilled, cocking his head to one side – an inquisitive bird instead of a startled one. Fingers rolled the hair between his thumb and forefinger on their own accord. Ronon released John's wrist, red from the fighting and already starting to bruise. Claw-like digits followed the single weave back up to the mass, pressing and plucking before wandering away from hair to encounter the skin of the forehead. Cool fingertips traced Ronon's features, touching his eyelids, sliding over his nose to his mouth, mouth to cheek and cheek-bone, then neck until coming to the cord holding wraith finger-bones. Sheppard lifted the trophies in one hand to feel them out with the other.

John's breathing increased, the fingers stilling. “Rn'n?”

Ronon took John's hand, placed it against his face, and nodded.

Sheppard's breath caught on a strangled gasp. He scrabbled to clutch the shoulder of Ronon's coat with his free hand, gripping like he had no intentions of ever letting go. “Ron'n, I wanna g'home. I wanna... g'home, please.”