fic: Seeking Heat
Title: Seeking Heat
Author: miera_c
Episodes: "The Storm" and "The Eye"
Summary: notjustclosets fic for these two episodes
Pairings: Weir/Sheppard
Main characters: Weir, Sheppard
Rating: R
Warnings: non-explicit sexual content
Spoilers: For the two episodes in question
Beta: melyanna and grav_ity
Disclaimer: The Stargate universe belongs to a lot of people who are not me. More's the pity.
Author's Notes: Written for the notjustclosets ficathon, for the episodes "The Storm" and "The Eye." As with my previous NJC fic it was a real struggle to come up with something that hadn't been done a billion times before.
Her legs were feeling wobbly, so Elizabeth leaned against the wall of the conference room near the corner. The wall was nice. It was solid. So was the floor.
She slid down until she was sitting on the floor with her back propped up against the wall.
The sounds of the storm were somewhat muted now, but the humming and noises of energy flowing through the city unchecked to fuel the shield made a weird counterpoint to the thunder and wind. Elizabeth put her elbows on her knees and covered her ears. She was on her last nerve and the constant sounds were fraying that one fast.
But she couldn't break down yet. They had hours to go before the storm was really over. The shield could fail at any time. She'd have to wait. She folded her arms over her knees and rubbed up and down her biceps absently, wishing for a blanket.
John appeared in the open doorway to the conference room. The lights flickered on in response to his presence and Elizabeth winced, shielding her eyes. He must have turned them off a minute later, because it went mercifully dim again. When she looked up, the doors were swinging closed and John was sitting down next to her on the floor.
With the only light in the room coming through the glass of the doors, she had to squint a bit to see his face. Then again, she knew without looking what his expression would be. It was a peculiarly John face, the one that meant he was feeling a lot of emotions that he was trying hard not to deal with.
He was worried about her. To be fair, Elizabeth was worried about herself. She didn't think she could hold it together and be the Stoic, Fearless Leader for another ten or twelve hours straight.
She looked down at her feet, chin on her forearm, casting around for something to say, but the words wouldn't come. She'd already admitted to him that she was definitely not all right. She couldn't lie to him now. And she had no idea where to start talking, even if he wanted to listen, which she doubted. John had a number of admirable qualities, but heart to heart talks were not his forte.
A warm hand came to rest on the back of her head, surprising the hell out of her. The last few months she'd gotten a lot more comfortable with him, but she already knew John wasn't the touchy-feely type. He basically only had physical contact with other people when he was trying to save their lives or fight them. This was the second time in less than an hour he'd touched her unsolicited.
Her lower lip trembled. She bit down on it hard.
His fingers stroked her hair gently.
Elizabeth craned her neck, looking over at him. John was leaning forward, watching her closely, his forehead furrowed in concern.
He wasn't a stranger anymore. He wasn't just a colleague anymore either. He was a friend. The friend who had just saved her life.
Elizabeth's control snapped and she turned and reached for the fastenings of his tac vest. John stared at her in bewilderment for a minute, but he let her open the vest and he shrugged it off and laid it carefully alongside his gun, which was on the floor in easy reach. She tugged his jacket off his arms too, ignoring his wary expression, and as soon as the jacket was gone, she turned sideways and leaned against him.
He went stiff for a second before his arms closed around her. Elizabeth put her head on his shoulder, laying her legs across his lap. John got the idea a moment later. He covered her with his jacket and let her rest against him.
God, he was warm. Probably from running around the entire city for hours on end. She was still so cold. The freezing chill of being out on the balcony with Rodney in the downpour hadn't left her yet. Or maybe it was from the look on Kolya's face, the feeling of his arm dragging her inexorably backwards no matter how hard to she tried to stop it. She could still feel the way her boots kept slipping across the floor, unable to find purchase. She was cold down to the marrow of her bones. She cuddled impossibly closer, turning her face against his t-shirt to warm her nose up.
She didn't know what made the tremors start. She was finally safe, finally getting warm. Why her body picked now to react, she didn't know, but she couldn't stop it. She shook from head to toes, the reaction hitting her in short waves. Hot tears were stinging her eyes, but she kept them shut, kept her face hidden against John's chest, gulping down air.
He held on more tightly as the shaking got worse. She was grateful for the weight of his arm across her knees, and for the feeling of his thumb rubbing back and forth across the nape of her neck. She had folded her arms across her stomach protectively, but when one wave of trembling hit her so hard she grunted, one of her hands slid up and fisted in his shirt.
John pulled her all the way onto his lap in response. She knew he was murmuring something but she couldn't make out the words, just the sound of his voice, low and strangely soft. Elizabeth curled into a ball and concentrated on breathing as slowly and steadily as she could manage.
She knew some time passed. The shaking faded, her body unclenched from its fetal position. She felt John's cheek rubbing against her forehead as he shifted underneath her to get more comfortable. Distantly she thought she should rouse herself, get out of his freaking lap before someone saw them like this, but he made no move to let go, even when she yawned.
He did say her name, though, very quietly. "Elizabeth?"
He'd never called her by her first name before. In all the months they'd been in Atlantis, even with the extraordinary series of near-death events, he'd never said her name before.
She certainly hadn't imagined him saying it like this.
Whatever question he was about to pose didn't come, because there was a sharp rap on the glass in the door that made them both bolt upright. There'd been too many alarms in the last 12 hours to react any other way.
But Lieutenant Ford called from outside, "Sir? Is everything okay in there?"
Elizabeth groaned, slumping back down and burying her face in John's neck. The brief burst of adrenaline had destroyed her hard-earned calm. She felt John huff out a bare laugh before he called out, "Yeah, we're okay. We're just gonna rest for a little while, Lieutenant. Holler if you need either of us."
It occurred to her that the doors should have swung open when Ford approached. "Did you lock the door?" she mumbled, tucking her hand under her chin and settling against him again.
"Yeah. I figured you maybe needed a little privacy for a few minutes."
"Hmm," was all she said in response, but she sighed, her breath blowing over his throat.
John twitched.
Elizabeth's eyes opened. Pressed up against him like she was, all she could see was the skin of his neck and his ear. Without otherwise moving, she slowly blew out another breath.
He shivered again.
She tilted her head back, her mouth closer to his ear, and repeated the action. John tensed, and he made this tiny little noise. She never would've heard it if she hadn't been so close. Apparently, her military commander had a very sensitive neck.
Curious, Elizabeth ran her finger along the line of John's throat. Up and then back down. She watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. She traced the line of his chin, and John's head fell with a soft thump against the wall. His eyes were closed and she felt his body go unnaturally still, down to the hand that remained tangled in her hair.
Even though she was in no way calculating her actions, Elizabeth inched forward and with deliberate precision brushed her lips against the spot just behind his jaw. She could feel his beard stubble against her cheek, but the skin in that little hollow was smooth and warm. She lingered like that for a moment before moving down slightly.
Under her kiss, she could feel his pulse. His heart was racing, possibly from Ford's interruption, or maybe just from everything.
She trailed her mouth across his neck, feeling almost detached as she noted the increasing rigidity of his muscles when she lingered in certain places. She got to the delicate skin just below his ear and her tongue brushed against his skin.
He tasted like the rain. Like sweat and metal and male, but mostly he tasted like the rain. Elizabeth dragged her tongue along the column of his neck, gathering that taste in her mouth.
John's fingers flexed in her hair, but she ignored it, going for his ear. When she nibbled lightly at the lobe his whole body jerked. She traced the edge with her tongue and John finally broke his silence and moaned lowly.
Awareness belatedly came back to her. She had unthinkingly wrapped her arm around his neck for balance. Their upper bodies were pressed together by her weight and she felt each breath either of them took. John's hand was gripping her hip tightly, and his other arm was against her shoulder blade, and for a moment, she felt cocooned and safe and warm.
This time when his fingers tugged on her hair, she didn't resist. He pulled her back so they could see each other's faces.
His eyes were dark, darker than just the low lighting required. His lips were parted, and his tongue darted out and licked absently. Something deep in her belly tightened. She'd seen that automatic reflex of his a hundred times and never paid attention, or rather never allowed herself to pay attention to it. Early on she had realized the less she thought about John's sensuous lips, the better. So she didn't ever let herself really focus on the sight of his tongue flickering out like that, or the way he bit his lower lip when he was worried or thinking. She thought about him a little too much just in general to let herself really notice those kinds of details as well.
He stared at her, plainly confused, unable to hide either his worry or his arousal. Elizabeth brushed her fingers lightly over the creases in his forehead, as if she could smooth them away by touch. John didn't move, save to close his eyes for a moment. But she had a very strong feeling that he wanted to lean towards her.
She closed the gap herself. He sighed.
Her forehead pressed against his, and her fingers traced the edge of his face, the tiny lines alongside his eyes that showed up when he laughed, across his cheek and then her index finger followed the outline of his lips. A tingling sensation traveled up her arm from the tip of her finger down to the core of her body as she did it, the heady sensation of doing something forbidden hitting her like an adrenalin rush, but a good one this time that left her warm and liquid rather than shaking from cold. His lips were a little cracked, rough against the pad of her finger, as was the indentation under his lower lip, between his mouth and his chin.
She swallowed, caught on the precipice for a moment, but she remembered how his skin tasted, and she wondered if his mouth would taste of the rain too.
Deliberately, she slid both her hands into his hair and kissed him.
John kissed her back without the hesitation she was half-expecting. His arms wrapped around her, holding her in a vise-like grip while their lips slid against each other lightly, then with more pressure. Back and forth, testing, rubbing, spreading more heat through her body until her tongue slipped against his lower lip. John made that little noise again, and his mouth opened for her.
She didn't waste any more time, diving in to taste and lick and then moan in her turn as his tongue tangled with hers urgently. He was warm, wet, his tongue agile and devious by turns, and his mouth tasted of the rainwater and salt and him. They clung to each other frantically for a minute before the pace eased, the kisses turning more exploratory. Her fingers tunneled through his damp hair over and over, nails raking lightly over his scalp. John cupped the back of her neck with one strong hand, keeping her close, keeping her mouth tight against his. They were both panting, gulping down sips of air in the fractions of seconds their mouths separated. She wasn't sure the dizziness was all from lack of oxygen. It had been a very long time since she had just made out with anyone like this, and part of her felt the ridiculousness of the situation. They were sitting on the floor, Elizabeth cuddled in his lap, while they kissed and kissed until they had to separate for a minute or she was going to pass out.
She drew away enough to breathe, her chest brushing against his lightly as they panted.
His eyes locked on hers, haunted and stormy, and being so close there was no way for her to miss the tremor that went through him. Then his hands came up to frame her face, his thumbs ghosting against her cheekbones.
John was horrible at talking about his feelings, but he was also not very good at hiding his emotions, especially not from her. And not right now. She could see everything that was churning inside him on his face, in his eyes; lust, grief, guilt, fear, relief, shock and longing. It was the last one that hit her the hardest, feeling his palms rough but warm against her cheeks as he looked at her searchingly.
For the first time since she had wandered into the room and collapsed onto the floor, Elizabeth's focus shifted to something outside of herself.
It was awkward, but she grabbed his shoulders and moved so that she was straddling his lap, John's hands on her waist to steady her. He watched her lean and twist above him, not speaking, looking surprised and uncertain. Then she mirrored his gesture of a moment earlier, taking his face in her hands and kissing him again.
It was slower but somehow deeper than the other kisses had been, with a hunger and an intent that hadn't been there before. Their hands started to roam, hers over his neck and shoulders, John's up and down her back, fondling her ass tentatively at first, and then harder as she rocked a little to encourage him.
Now that she was kneeling above him, she could clearly feel his body coming to full attention in his pants. When her hips began to grind down he pushed up against her in response. They quickly hit a rhythm that made both of them moan through heated kisses. John tugged her body down more firmly on top of him even as his hands went up under her shirt. His fingers felt cool against her back, but when he traced her spine down to the top of her pants she arched like a cat at the sensation.
She felt his smirk against her lips as he repeated the action, obviously pleased with himself. Elizabeth retaliated by adding a slight twist to the way her hips were moving, making him grunt.
Without breaking the kiss, her hands tugged his shirt loose from his pants and then up, so she could touch his abdomen and run her palms over his chest. She honestly hadn't ever liked men with hairy chests much, but the crinkle of the coarse hair against her fingers felt right, and John shuddered when she brushed over his nipples.
He hefted her up slightly with his knees and attacked her neck, mouth latching on to the soft skin underneath her jaw. His tongue swirled as he nuzzled and licked his way down the column of her throat. As she had done to him earlier, he found every good spot on her neck and lingered, goading her with his lips and his teeth while she struggled to concentrate on getting his belt buckle open.
He finally faltered when her hand got inside his trousers and underwear and found the hardness of his erection. As soon as her fingers closed around him and started to stroke, John buried his face against her neck. His hands dug into her back, clinging tightly as she touched him, his breath hot and damp against her collarbone. She could feel the tension in his body through her hand against his chest, in the tight muscles of his legs between her thighs.
His flesh was hot in her palm. She wanted to see his face, so with her other hand she gently pulled his head back so that he leaned against the wall, staring up at her. His eyes were wide, his expression hazy with lust. His mouth was open slightly, his breathing ragged. Even with the awkward angle, she managed to twist her fingers along his length as she worked him. John's eyes slammed shut, his head turning so that his mouth was against the inside of her wrist. The feeling of his breath blowing against the delicate skin there gave Elizabeth goosebumps.
Her hand sped up. She watched as his face contorted, as he let out a gasp and bucked up off the floor against her. His fingers were pressing fresh bruises into her skin now, but she didn't care. It was a small price to pay to see John's face as the orgasm swept through him, and she felt him coming over her fingers.
She went still for a moment, studying him in the limited light, imprinting his slack face and parted lips and closed eyes on her memory. Then she carefully removed her hand from his boxers. John winced a little, and she leaned in and brushed her mouth against his.
He kissed her, sloppy but eager, and his hands slowly dragged from her back to her stomach under her shirt. He slid them up to palm her breasts gently, and Elizabeth became aware of the heat throbbing between her legs that she had barely noticed until now. His thumb found one of her nipples and circled, pushing against the pebbled skin in a way that made her body twitch helplessly. She saw the small, wholly masculine smile on his face, but before she could react his other hand was flicking open her pants and he dropped his knees. She came down with a bounce, and John slipped his hand into her underwear.
His strong fingers pushed into the tight space between her clothes and her skin, delving deeper as John twisted his arm to get a better angle. She leaned forward on instinct to help him, and then exhaled sharply when his finger found the right spot. She rotated her hips, urging him to move, and her head crashed onto his shoulder as he obeyed. His index finger moved carefully at first, exploring and circling lightly.
It felt slightly strange, having anyone else's hand there. It had been a very long while since the last time she'd done this. It was only one finger, but his digits were wider than hers and harder from the calluses. But his skin was warm and she was so hot and soon his finger was slick with her wetness and moving easily. John figured out how she liked to be touched startlingly fast, and she groaned under her breath, pushing her hips down, wanting him to press harder. She could feel the orgasm coming closer and closer, the sweet ache building inside, and she wanted it now.
Elizabeth fisted both hands in his shirt, her forehead still against his shoulder. Sweat was breaking out all over her body and her thighs shook slightly in anticipation. But his finger broke off what it was doing and slid back further. He didn't push in, just touched her, but she shook her head against his neck, warning him off.
John resumed what he'd been doing and she made a happy little noise. She figured he was smirking at her but she couldn't be bothered to raise her head to see. Her body was rocking urgently into his hand now, and images were flashing through her mind, as they often did in the unrestrained moments before she hit the peak. She saw heat distortions, jungles, bodies glistening with sweat, John's naked back as he stretched on top of her in her bed...
John's other hand gripped the back of her head and pulled her upright. As she had done to him, he watched as the orgasm hit her full force, his hand splayed against her jaw, fingers cupping her neck while his thumb rested just alongside her mouth. She leaned into both his hands as her body melted.
Her eyes fluttered shut, her lips parting in a soundless cry of pleasure. Her knuckles went white from holding onto him so tightly, and inside her boots, her toes curled as the wave of heat spread outward, along her limbs, engulfing her. When the glow faded, her arms and legs felt like Jell-O.
John extracted his hand from her underwear, making her hiss. She watched, still rather dazed, as he lifted his finger to his lips and sucked it clean. The sight made a ripple of new tension go through her, but she was too exhausted to hold on to it. Too much had happened in too short a time, and she wasn't willing to break the secluded bubble they were in to consider any of it right now.
Elizabeth slumped, faceplanting into his shoulder again, her body flush against his. His arms wrapped around her back.
She didn't know how long they stayed like that. John's breath hummed in her ear, blocking some of the noise from the storm still raging outside. Elizabeth gradually became aware of where they were, of the protests of her knees and legs from her position, and the fact that she was going to have to move eventually.
Reluctantly, Elizabeth pushed up and off his lap. She avoided looking at John right away, focusing instead on getting her clothes back in order. In her peripheral vision she saw him do the same thing. Finally she settled on the floor, back to the wall, alongside of him.
She felt John looking at her. She rolled her head, meeting his gaze. They needed to talk about this, what it meant. Whether it would happen again. But as before, Elizabeth didn't know where to start.
John licked his lips, taking a breath, like he was going to speak, although he was looking a little frantic about it.
Elizabeth yawned so hugely her spine arched and her jaw popped.
Both of them started to laugh, and Elizabeth actually got tears in her eyes when John caught the yawn and glared at her even as his body stretched involuntarily.
Still giggling, she leaned sideways, her head on his shoulder, her eyelids heavy. John lifted his arm, though, pulling her closer. Too tired to do anything else, she cuddled up to his side and fell asleep.
Author: miera_c
Episodes: "The Storm" and "The Eye"
Summary: notjustclosets fic for these two episodes
Pairings: Weir/Sheppard
Main characters: Weir, Sheppard
Rating: R
Warnings: non-explicit sexual content
Spoilers: For the two episodes in question
Beta: melyanna and grav_ity
Disclaimer: The Stargate universe belongs to a lot of people who are not me. More's the pity.
Author's Notes: Written for the notjustclosets ficathon, for the episodes "The Storm" and "The Eye." As with my previous NJC fic it was a real struggle to come up with something that hadn't been done a billion times before.
Her legs were feeling wobbly, so Elizabeth leaned against the wall of the conference room near the corner. The wall was nice. It was solid. So was the floor.
She slid down until she was sitting on the floor with her back propped up against the wall.
The sounds of the storm were somewhat muted now, but the humming and noises of energy flowing through the city unchecked to fuel the shield made a weird counterpoint to the thunder and wind. Elizabeth put her elbows on her knees and covered her ears. She was on her last nerve and the constant sounds were fraying that one fast.
But she couldn't break down yet. They had hours to go before the storm was really over. The shield could fail at any time. She'd have to wait. She folded her arms over her knees and rubbed up and down her biceps absently, wishing for a blanket.
John appeared in the open doorway to the conference room. The lights flickered on in response to his presence and Elizabeth winced, shielding her eyes. He must have turned them off a minute later, because it went mercifully dim again. When she looked up, the doors were swinging closed and John was sitting down next to her on the floor.
With the only light in the room coming through the glass of the doors, she had to squint a bit to see his face. Then again, she knew without looking what his expression would be. It was a peculiarly John face, the one that meant he was feeling a lot of emotions that he was trying hard not to deal with.
He was worried about her. To be fair, Elizabeth was worried about herself. She didn't think she could hold it together and be the Stoic, Fearless Leader for another ten or twelve hours straight.
She looked down at her feet, chin on her forearm, casting around for something to say, but the words wouldn't come. She'd already admitted to him that she was definitely not all right. She couldn't lie to him now. And she had no idea where to start talking, even if he wanted to listen, which she doubted. John had a number of admirable qualities, but heart to heart talks were not his forte.
A warm hand came to rest on the back of her head, surprising the hell out of her. The last few months she'd gotten a lot more comfortable with him, but she already knew John wasn't the touchy-feely type. He basically only had physical contact with other people when he was trying to save their lives or fight them. This was the second time in less than an hour he'd touched her unsolicited.
Her lower lip trembled. She bit down on it hard.
His fingers stroked her hair gently.
Elizabeth craned her neck, looking over at him. John was leaning forward, watching her closely, his forehead furrowed in concern.
He wasn't a stranger anymore. He wasn't just a colleague anymore either. He was a friend. The friend who had just saved her life.
Elizabeth's control snapped and she turned and reached for the fastenings of his tac vest. John stared at her in bewilderment for a minute, but he let her open the vest and he shrugged it off and laid it carefully alongside his gun, which was on the floor in easy reach. She tugged his jacket off his arms too, ignoring his wary expression, and as soon as the jacket was gone, she turned sideways and leaned against him.
He went stiff for a second before his arms closed around her. Elizabeth put her head on his shoulder, laying her legs across his lap. John got the idea a moment later. He covered her with his jacket and let her rest against him.
God, he was warm. Probably from running around the entire city for hours on end. She was still so cold. The freezing chill of being out on the balcony with Rodney in the downpour hadn't left her yet. Or maybe it was from the look on Kolya's face, the feeling of his arm dragging her inexorably backwards no matter how hard to she tried to stop it. She could still feel the way her boots kept slipping across the floor, unable to find purchase. She was cold down to the marrow of her bones. She cuddled impossibly closer, turning her face against his t-shirt to warm her nose up.
She didn't know what made the tremors start. She was finally safe, finally getting warm. Why her body picked now to react, she didn't know, but she couldn't stop it. She shook from head to toes, the reaction hitting her in short waves. Hot tears were stinging her eyes, but she kept them shut, kept her face hidden against John's chest, gulping down air.
He held on more tightly as the shaking got worse. She was grateful for the weight of his arm across her knees, and for the feeling of his thumb rubbing back and forth across the nape of her neck. She had folded her arms across her stomach protectively, but when one wave of trembling hit her so hard she grunted, one of her hands slid up and fisted in his shirt.
John pulled her all the way onto his lap in response. She knew he was murmuring something but she couldn't make out the words, just the sound of his voice, low and strangely soft. Elizabeth curled into a ball and concentrated on breathing as slowly and steadily as she could manage.
She knew some time passed. The shaking faded, her body unclenched from its fetal position. She felt John's cheek rubbing against her forehead as he shifted underneath her to get more comfortable. Distantly she thought she should rouse herself, get out of his freaking lap before someone saw them like this, but he made no move to let go, even when she yawned.
He did say her name, though, very quietly. "Elizabeth?"
He'd never called her by her first name before. In all the months they'd been in Atlantis, even with the extraordinary series of near-death events, he'd never said her name before.
She certainly hadn't imagined him saying it like this.
Whatever question he was about to pose didn't come, because there was a sharp rap on the glass in the door that made them both bolt upright. There'd been too many alarms in the last 12 hours to react any other way.
But Lieutenant Ford called from outside, "Sir? Is everything okay in there?"
Elizabeth groaned, slumping back down and burying her face in John's neck. The brief burst of adrenaline had destroyed her hard-earned calm. She felt John huff out a bare laugh before he called out, "Yeah, we're okay. We're just gonna rest for a little while, Lieutenant. Holler if you need either of us."
It occurred to her that the doors should have swung open when Ford approached. "Did you lock the door?" she mumbled, tucking her hand under her chin and settling against him again.
"Yeah. I figured you maybe needed a little privacy for a few minutes."
"Hmm," was all she said in response, but she sighed, her breath blowing over his throat.
John twitched.
Elizabeth's eyes opened. Pressed up against him like she was, all she could see was the skin of his neck and his ear. Without otherwise moving, she slowly blew out another breath.
He shivered again.
She tilted her head back, her mouth closer to his ear, and repeated the action. John tensed, and he made this tiny little noise. She never would've heard it if she hadn't been so close. Apparently, her military commander had a very sensitive neck.
Curious, Elizabeth ran her finger along the line of John's throat. Up and then back down. She watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. She traced the line of his chin, and John's head fell with a soft thump against the wall. His eyes were closed and she felt his body go unnaturally still, down to the hand that remained tangled in her hair.
Even though she was in no way calculating her actions, Elizabeth inched forward and with deliberate precision brushed her lips against the spot just behind his jaw. She could feel his beard stubble against her cheek, but the skin in that little hollow was smooth and warm. She lingered like that for a moment before moving down slightly.
Under her kiss, she could feel his pulse. His heart was racing, possibly from Ford's interruption, or maybe just from everything.
She trailed her mouth across his neck, feeling almost detached as she noted the increasing rigidity of his muscles when she lingered in certain places. She got to the delicate skin just below his ear and her tongue brushed against his skin.
He tasted like the rain. Like sweat and metal and male, but mostly he tasted like the rain. Elizabeth dragged her tongue along the column of his neck, gathering that taste in her mouth.
John's fingers flexed in her hair, but she ignored it, going for his ear. When she nibbled lightly at the lobe his whole body jerked. She traced the edge with her tongue and John finally broke his silence and moaned lowly.
Awareness belatedly came back to her. She had unthinkingly wrapped her arm around his neck for balance. Their upper bodies were pressed together by her weight and she felt each breath either of them took. John's hand was gripping her hip tightly, and his other arm was against her shoulder blade, and for a moment, she felt cocooned and safe and warm.
This time when his fingers tugged on her hair, she didn't resist. He pulled her back so they could see each other's faces.
His eyes were dark, darker than just the low lighting required. His lips were parted, and his tongue darted out and licked absently. Something deep in her belly tightened. She'd seen that automatic reflex of his a hundred times and never paid attention, or rather never allowed herself to pay attention to it. Early on she had realized the less she thought about John's sensuous lips, the better. So she didn't ever let herself really focus on the sight of his tongue flickering out like that, or the way he bit his lower lip when he was worried or thinking. She thought about him a little too much just in general to let herself really notice those kinds of details as well.
He stared at her, plainly confused, unable to hide either his worry or his arousal. Elizabeth brushed her fingers lightly over the creases in his forehead, as if she could smooth them away by touch. John didn't move, save to close his eyes for a moment. But she had a very strong feeling that he wanted to lean towards her.
She closed the gap herself. He sighed.
Her forehead pressed against his, and her fingers traced the edge of his face, the tiny lines alongside his eyes that showed up when he laughed, across his cheek and then her index finger followed the outline of his lips. A tingling sensation traveled up her arm from the tip of her finger down to the core of her body as she did it, the heady sensation of doing something forbidden hitting her like an adrenalin rush, but a good one this time that left her warm and liquid rather than shaking from cold. His lips were a little cracked, rough against the pad of her finger, as was the indentation under his lower lip, between his mouth and his chin.
She swallowed, caught on the precipice for a moment, but she remembered how his skin tasted, and she wondered if his mouth would taste of the rain too.
Deliberately, she slid both her hands into his hair and kissed him.
John kissed her back without the hesitation she was half-expecting. His arms wrapped around her, holding her in a vise-like grip while their lips slid against each other lightly, then with more pressure. Back and forth, testing, rubbing, spreading more heat through her body until her tongue slipped against his lower lip. John made that little noise again, and his mouth opened for her.
She didn't waste any more time, diving in to taste and lick and then moan in her turn as his tongue tangled with hers urgently. He was warm, wet, his tongue agile and devious by turns, and his mouth tasted of the rainwater and salt and him. They clung to each other frantically for a minute before the pace eased, the kisses turning more exploratory. Her fingers tunneled through his damp hair over and over, nails raking lightly over his scalp. John cupped the back of her neck with one strong hand, keeping her close, keeping her mouth tight against his. They were both panting, gulping down sips of air in the fractions of seconds their mouths separated. She wasn't sure the dizziness was all from lack of oxygen. It had been a very long time since she had just made out with anyone like this, and part of her felt the ridiculousness of the situation. They were sitting on the floor, Elizabeth cuddled in his lap, while they kissed and kissed until they had to separate for a minute or she was going to pass out.
She drew away enough to breathe, her chest brushing against his lightly as they panted.
His eyes locked on hers, haunted and stormy, and being so close there was no way for her to miss the tremor that went through him. Then his hands came up to frame her face, his thumbs ghosting against her cheekbones.
John was horrible at talking about his feelings, but he was also not very good at hiding his emotions, especially not from her. And not right now. She could see everything that was churning inside him on his face, in his eyes; lust, grief, guilt, fear, relief, shock and longing. It was the last one that hit her the hardest, feeling his palms rough but warm against her cheeks as he looked at her searchingly.
For the first time since she had wandered into the room and collapsed onto the floor, Elizabeth's focus shifted to something outside of herself.
It was awkward, but she grabbed his shoulders and moved so that she was straddling his lap, John's hands on her waist to steady her. He watched her lean and twist above him, not speaking, looking surprised and uncertain. Then she mirrored his gesture of a moment earlier, taking his face in her hands and kissing him again.
It was slower but somehow deeper than the other kisses had been, with a hunger and an intent that hadn't been there before. Their hands started to roam, hers over his neck and shoulders, John's up and down her back, fondling her ass tentatively at first, and then harder as she rocked a little to encourage him.
Now that she was kneeling above him, she could clearly feel his body coming to full attention in his pants. When her hips began to grind down he pushed up against her in response. They quickly hit a rhythm that made both of them moan through heated kisses. John tugged her body down more firmly on top of him even as his hands went up under her shirt. His fingers felt cool against her back, but when he traced her spine down to the top of her pants she arched like a cat at the sensation.
She felt his smirk against her lips as he repeated the action, obviously pleased with himself. Elizabeth retaliated by adding a slight twist to the way her hips were moving, making him grunt.
Without breaking the kiss, her hands tugged his shirt loose from his pants and then up, so she could touch his abdomen and run her palms over his chest. She honestly hadn't ever liked men with hairy chests much, but the crinkle of the coarse hair against her fingers felt right, and John shuddered when she brushed over his nipples.
He hefted her up slightly with his knees and attacked her neck, mouth latching on to the soft skin underneath her jaw. His tongue swirled as he nuzzled and licked his way down the column of her throat. As she had done to him earlier, he found every good spot on her neck and lingered, goading her with his lips and his teeth while she struggled to concentrate on getting his belt buckle open.
He finally faltered when her hand got inside his trousers and underwear and found the hardness of his erection. As soon as her fingers closed around him and started to stroke, John buried his face against her neck. His hands dug into her back, clinging tightly as she touched him, his breath hot and damp against her collarbone. She could feel the tension in his body through her hand against his chest, in the tight muscles of his legs between her thighs.
His flesh was hot in her palm. She wanted to see his face, so with her other hand she gently pulled his head back so that he leaned against the wall, staring up at her. His eyes were wide, his expression hazy with lust. His mouth was open slightly, his breathing ragged. Even with the awkward angle, she managed to twist her fingers along his length as she worked him. John's eyes slammed shut, his head turning so that his mouth was against the inside of her wrist. The feeling of his breath blowing against the delicate skin there gave Elizabeth goosebumps.
Her hand sped up. She watched as his face contorted, as he let out a gasp and bucked up off the floor against her. His fingers were pressing fresh bruises into her skin now, but she didn't care. It was a small price to pay to see John's face as the orgasm swept through him, and she felt him coming over her fingers.
She went still for a moment, studying him in the limited light, imprinting his slack face and parted lips and closed eyes on her memory. Then she carefully removed her hand from his boxers. John winced a little, and she leaned in and brushed her mouth against his.
He kissed her, sloppy but eager, and his hands slowly dragged from her back to her stomach under her shirt. He slid them up to palm her breasts gently, and Elizabeth became aware of the heat throbbing between her legs that she had barely noticed until now. His thumb found one of her nipples and circled, pushing against the pebbled skin in a way that made her body twitch helplessly. She saw the small, wholly masculine smile on his face, but before she could react his other hand was flicking open her pants and he dropped his knees. She came down with a bounce, and John slipped his hand into her underwear.
His strong fingers pushed into the tight space between her clothes and her skin, delving deeper as John twisted his arm to get a better angle. She leaned forward on instinct to help him, and then exhaled sharply when his finger found the right spot. She rotated her hips, urging him to move, and her head crashed onto his shoulder as he obeyed. His index finger moved carefully at first, exploring and circling lightly.
It felt slightly strange, having anyone else's hand there. It had been a very long while since the last time she'd done this. It was only one finger, but his digits were wider than hers and harder from the calluses. But his skin was warm and she was so hot and soon his finger was slick with her wetness and moving easily. John figured out how she liked to be touched startlingly fast, and she groaned under her breath, pushing her hips down, wanting him to press harder. She could feel the orgasm coming closer and closer, the sweet ache building inside, and she wanted it now.
Elizabeth fisted both hands in his shirt, her forehead still against his shoulder. Sweat was breaking out all over her body and her thighs shook slightly in anticipation. But his finger broke off what it was doing and slid back further. He didn't push in, just touched her, but she shook her head against his neck, warning him off.
John resumed what he'd been doing and she made a happy little noise. She figured he was smirking at her but she couldn't be bothered to raise her head to see. Her body was rocking urgently into his hand now, and images were flashing through her mind, as they often did in the unrestrained moments before she hit the peak. She saw heat distortions, jungles, bodies glistening with sweat, John's naked back as he stretched on top of her in her bed...
John's other hand gripped the back of her head and pulled her upright. As she had done to him, he watched as the orgasm hit her full force, his hand splayed against her jaw, fingers cupping her neck while his thumb rested just alongside her mouth. She leaned into both his hands as her body melted.
Her eyes fluttered shut, her lips parting in a soundless cry of pleasure. Her knuckles went white from holding onto him so tightly, and inside her boots, her toes curled as the wave of heat spread outward, along her limbs, engulfing her. When the glow faded, her arms and legs felt like Jell-O.
John extracted his hand from her underwear, making her hiss. She watched, still rather dazed, as he lifted his finger to his lips and sucked it clean. The sight made a ripple of new tension go through her, but she was too exhausted to hold on to it. Too much had happened in too short a time, and she wasn't willing to break the secluded bubble they were in to consider any of it right now.
Elizabeth slumped, faceplanting into his shoulder again, her body flush against his. His arms wrapped around her back.
She didn't know how long they stayed like that. John's breath hummed in her ear, blocking some of the noise from the storm still raging outside. Elizabeth gradually became aware of where they were, of the protests of her knees and legs from her position, and the fact that she was going to have to move eventually.
Reluctantly, Elizabeth pushed up and off his lap. She avoided looking at John right away, focusing instead on getting her clothes back in order. In her peripheral vision she saw him do the same thing. Finally she settled on the floor, back to the wall, alongside of him.
She felt John looking at her. She rolled her head, meeting his gaze. They needed to talk about this, what it meant. Whether it would happen again. But as before, Elizabeth didn't know where to start.
John licked his lips, taking a breath, like he was going to speak, although he was looking a little frantic about it.
Elizabeth yawned so hugely her spine arched and her jaw popped.
Both of them started to laugh, and Elizabeth actually got tears in her eyes when John caught the yawn and glared at her even as his body stretched involuntarily.
Still giggling, she leaned sideways, her head on his shoulder, her eyelids heavy. John lifted his arm, though, pulling her closer. Too tired to do anything else, she cuddled up to his side and fell asleep.