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Sheppard’s a little sensitive about his ears, ducking out of the kiss when Ronon spreads his fingers against Sheppard’s cheek and ear to hold on.
“Fuck.” Sheppard says it like it’s been punched out of him, which might have more to do with McKay’s hand sliding down the front of his pants.
Ronon leans in again, kissing across Sheppard’s mouth and over his cheek to his ear. He tries to be gentle, kissing the awkward point and following the curve down with his tongue, worrying the lobe between his teeth. When he bites, Sheppard curses softly and melts between them.
—
Sheppard’s nearly gagging himself on Ronon’s prick while McKay’s fucking him, driving him forward. Ronon runs his hands through Sheppard’s hair, pulling it the way Sheppard likes, one hand dropping to Sheppard’s ear and holding on. Sheppard shudders, moaning, his fingers biting into Ronon’s thigh.
“Ronon.” McKay’s voice is tight. His skin is flushed and there's a spark of an idea in his eye. “Just let me—”
McKay leans forward to press his nose behind Sheppard’s ear, “Fuck, Sheppard, you’re so—” Ronon can feel McKay’s mouth on his fingers, his breath burning into his skin, sending him over the peak.
—
“I think you killed him,” Ronon says. Sheppard is nearly unresponsive, his face pressed solidly against Ronon’s chest, but that’s how he always is after sex.
“I think I killed me.” McKay makes a pathetic sound. “I hate this bed.”
Sheppard grumbles a response, but still doesn’t move.
“See? He’s fine.”
Ronon runs his fingers through Sheppard’s hair, stroking his ear gently. It’s still red.
Sheppard moans, his whole body rolling forward, cock hardening against Ronon’s thigh.
“Really?” McKay snaps, but he sits up, interested.
Sheppard bats Ronon’s hand away, turning his face further into Ronon’s chest. “Later,” he mumbles.