Ronon smiled as John mumbled something and curled tighter around his chest. He liked nights like this, when the mission had gone well and neither of them were angry or worried or hurting. He liked when they could fuck and then snuggle together until it was time to go running in the morning.

Ronon rubbed his lips against John's spiky hair, enjoying how soft it was. Awake John was all sharp edges and sharp commands. He was one of the best commanders Ronon had ever worked with. Part of the reason he was so effective was that he would never order his men to do something he wouldn't do. They had loyalty to John because they knew John was bone-deep loyal to them.

It was only when he was asleep that the sharp-edged façade dropped away, revealing the man underneath. He was soft to the touch, his fluffy hair silk instead of knives. His raw hipbones were covered in silky skin. His muscles were sheathed in so tender flesh. Ronon loved the softness that only he got to touch, even though that softness worried him.

The façade of the perfect commander hid the man who was frayed at the edges by the weight of responsibility. Ronon was always afraid that John was going to break. He was tough as nails but as fragile as pure steel. It wouldn't take much to break John, just the right blow from the right angle would make him shatter like glass. Ronon hoped that he never had to be there if it happened. He wasn't sure he could put the pieces of John's soul back together again.

John mumbled something incoherent in his sleep, his fingers running up Ronon's rib cage. His breath puffed against Ronon's neck. It was warm and moist and it set a fire in Ronon's groin. Ronon bit down a groan so that he wouldn't wake John up. Ronon concentrated on his breathing to keep from rolling John over and taking him again. It wasn't enough. It could never be enough. All the contradictions and complexes that made John John ensured that Ronon couldn't get enough of him. And yet he had to pull back sometimes because John was so intense that he was more than he could take. He was a beautiful disaster in the process of unfolding and Ronon knew it was already too late to flee. He was a rock caught up in the avalanche that was John Sheppard. Nothing would ever be the same and Ronon loved him for it.

Thank you! #^___^# I like writing from Ronon's POV, especially when he's looking at the team.

I'm so glad you liked that bit! Ronon's really very sweet underneath the gruffness--so perfect for John and all his issues.

Thanks for the comment--glad you liked the fic!

Thank you! I tend to think that Ronon is much smarter and much more poetical in his own head than the show gives him credit for. It does come out in my writing. *g* I'm so glad that you liked this fic. Thank you for the comment!

There is a lot of pretty to overshadow the smarts there. *g* I think it was seven years but I'm not 100% sure. Either way, an incredible amount of time to be in survival mode. And then the adapted back to normal life so quickly! *sighs* I want a Ronon of my own.... *g*