(no subject)
Title: Painting
Author: selenay_x
Pairing (if applicable): Sheppard/Teyla
Rating: NC17
Recipient: Cpt. Ritter
Request: A John/Teyla makeout scene (can go to NC-17 if author desires, definitely John/Teyla ship)
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Err, none, I think
Author's Notes: Thanks to
dixgrl78 for the beta
John Sheppard smiled as he relaxed for the first time in what seemed an eternity. It had been so long since he’d visited the Athosian village, he’d almost forgotten what the mainland looked like. And this was his favourite spot, a small clearing a fair distance from the village. Teyla had announced to her people that morning that she and John would be heading out for a picnic and they would prefer not to be disturbed. On some occasions subtle was not an art she practiced. But her directness was one of the things he had first found attractive, apart from the obvious physical attraction.
The Athosians had made themselves a lovely new village; constant threats from the Wraith had made them amazingly self-sufficient and they seemed able to create a home anywhere. Bright, colourful, full of hope and life. John was always filled with admiration for them, their home had been destroyed, and they carried on, rebuilt, celebrated the remaining life without losing their traditions, their past.
Which bought him to the reason he was here, Teyla had invited him to yet another Athosian celebration, something to do with mornings and harvest. He hadn’t called her on it, but he was beginning to believe that most of the ‘celebrations’ he was invited to were just an excuse to party, not that he was actually complaining. But it seemed more than a little suspicious that Teyla would disappear on her own to the village on numerous occasions for ‘rituals’ that she rarely spoke of, but when he, or the team was stressed, lo and behold, there would be a ‘celebration’. Perhaps it was the Athosian way of reaching out to them.
Whatever the reasons, it was working and he was grateful for that, and for the first time in weeks he felt at peace. Probably in the main part due to the woman heading toward him, dressed in a top that left her midriff bare, and a leather skirt with splits that showed a lot of leg, always a very welcome sight.
She’d sent him ahead with the blanket and a couple of cushions and instructions to build a small fire; it was after all late autumn and there was a chill in the air.
She was carrying a wicker basket, which, hopefully held the food. He’d skipped breakfast in favour of dessert and his stomach was beginning to protest.
Teyla smiled as she saw him propped against a tree, blanket and cushions arranged, small fire burning nicely, patiently waiting for her, something she believed other may not believe as John occasionally came over as brash and what was the phrase she had heard used, ‘in your face’. When they were alone, he was different, more John and less Colonel Sheppard. He joked that a member of the armed forces was the best kind of man to date as they had already been trained to follow orders and required little day-to-day upkeep, provided you followed guidance from the ‘Proper Care and Maintenance of a Military Man’ Manual. She thought he was joking, but they had so many regulations and Standard Operating Procedures that half of her expected to find the manual buried somewhere. Perhaps she should ask Elizabeth.
She sank gracefully onto the blanket and placed the basket between them. Raiding the basket she proffered a wooden bowl filled with salad items, some bread rolls filled with the local equivalent of ham and cheese, and a selection of fruit for dessert. Though he hoped to talk her into a different kind later.
As they ate, he watched her, one of his favourite visuals. He always preferred making love to her outdoors, away from the trappings of Atlantis and Earth. Somewhere where she could be more herself, freer more natural. There was always a slight defensiveness in her manner.
After they’d eaten he noticed her watching him with a slightly calculating expression, head tilted to one side with a half smile. After a few seconds contemplation, she leant forward and unbuttoned his shirt, slowly, gently, then trailed a series of kisses across his collarbone.
“John.” She made his name two syllables. Which meant she was plotting something.
“Teyla.” Never commit until you know all the facts.
“Please remove your shirt and lie down.”
OK, that sounded fairly simple.
Teyla watched him comply with her request and her smile widened. When he was prone she made herself comfortable, kneeling so she sat just below his stomach, legs straddling his body.
John sent her an enquiring look as she reached into the basket, pulling out a smallish pot and brush. Very carefully she took the stopper off and placed it beside him. Then she dipped the brush into the liquid.
“Please do not move.”
John flinched as the cold, reddish liquid was transferred from the brush to his chest in a fairly intricate swirl. Teyla sat back slightly to admire her handiwork, then repeated the same design in a mirror image on the opposite side of his chest. As she painted a complex design on him, she hummed a traditional tune, an expression of pleasure on her face.
John smiled at her contented look. He never could deny her anything, but this was a little weird. But it did create some very interesting sensations. The erotic tickling sensation of the wet brush on his chest and the warmth of her body as she sat, or rather the position she had chosen were making keeping still more and more difficult. Especially if you factored in the small rocking moves she was making.
When she’s finished her design she leaned back to appreciate the symbolic design and made a little growling noise deep in her throat and traced part of the design with her finger, then smiled seductively before retracing the path of her finger with her tongue. Teasing light contact that covered his entire chest following the lines she’d painted.
Not moving was becoming more and more difficult.
“Oh hell.”
John’s patience shot to pieces, he made a sudden powerful move that switched their positions. Teyla laughed delightedly as she found herself the subject of a John Sheppard mission of seduction. A mission she highly approved of.
“Hmm. Commando.” Was his delighted response as a questing hand explored under her skirt, teasing and tormenting in return.
Within seconds he was undressed and taking full advantage of the tactical situation. His body intimately aware of her body’s natural rhythm and he met and matched her, pace growing more frantic as both sought climax.
Teyla screamed quietly a total contradiction in terms, one only she seemed capable of, and arched her back as she was hit by the intense wave of sensation. Seconds later John joined her, body shuddering his release, before collapsing on top of her.
*****