Fic: Drabble Prompts - Atlantis
Another one down.
For marbleslab
"Could you shift just a little to your--"
"Yeah, sure," he says quietly, and Elizabeth sighs softly in relief. The pressure on her wrist recedes with John's movement, and the short chain of the restraining cuffs linking their left arms clatters briefly in their otherwise silent cell.
She tries to flatten her back against the wall, long past caring about the grime transferring to her clothes and hair. She's five days due a long bath, but she stopped counting after day ten.
Their captors have communicated that she and John should be grateful for the accommodations; a dingy mattress on an uncomfortable metal frame that wobbles under their weight. John had offered to sleep on the floor their first night, but even if it had been next to impossible with the handcuffs binding their wrists, Elizabeth still would have insisted that he share the bed.
John lies on his side, his arm brushing against her hip as he tries unsuccessfully to find a more comfortable position.
"This sucks," he says, frustration lining his voice.
She hmms in agreement and shuts her eyes. They have to sleep in shifts because of the awkward placement of the handcuffs. Wholly intentional on behalf of their captors, she's sure. If she wasn't in this situation she's certain she would admire their sense of humor.
John shifts beside her and rises to his knees. "Let's switch up. I can't get any damn sleep like this."
Elizabeth peers at him with one eye and tsks. "I assure you that rest won't come any easier sitting up."
"I'll take my chances," he replies dryly.
There's a bit of maneuvering on both their parts until John is sitting opposite of Elizabeth on the bed, and she brings her legs to her chest, resting her chin on top of her knees. "Better?"
He looks at her askance, as if to say, what do you think? and she purses her lips in response.
"What were you doing while I was failing to get any sleep?"
Elizabeth shrugs. "Oh, the usual. Thinking about what I'm going to do once we get out of here."
John rubs his chin before leaning back, jerking her wrist forward in the process.
"Ouch! Damnit John..."
He cants forward and takes her wrist in his hand, massaging the skin beneath the metal cuffs. "Sorry. We're dealing with incompetence here. You'd think they'd know enough to get restraints with a little give to them."
"You'd think," she murmurs and nods her head in thanks. His fingers are still on her wrist and neither makes a move to break contact.
Elizabeth glances up from her preoccupation with their hands to find him staring at her. "And what's going on inside that head of yours, John Sheppard?"
He looks away suddenly, his face flushing in embarrassment, maybe? She's not sure.
John's mouth turns up in a slow smile then, as his eyes finally meet hers. She knows that look, has every reason to be wary of its sudden appearance.
He draws a line from her wrist to palm and threads their fingers together. "Maybe we should give that sex thing another try."
Elizabeth laughs, more in surprise than in finding humor in his words. That sex thing was a mistake she had no intention of ever repeating. "Can we really qualify what happened as sex? It was..."
"Bad," he finishes for her with a nod. "I know. That's why we should try it again."
She thinks bad is a gross understatement. It was awkward and disappointing. They were awkward, attempting to navigate around the handcuffs like inept teenagers. The kissing was slow and deep, definitely something they could work with. But their clothing worked against them, and even when they'd gotten both hands jammed beneath her underwear - two of his fingers sliding inside her at a familiar angle - that was as far as they could go.
They'd bumped against each other, nervous laughter giving way to frustration as the sex that had began as an act of comfort turned quickly into an unattainable goal.
They'd gone to sleep on edge and full of regrets.
Elizabeth raises their hands, stares pointedly at their bindings. "I think this makes it next to impossible."
"Hey, I'm a resourceful guy, and you're smart as hell. We can figure it out."
She considers his request. They are bored, and waiting to be rescued by their people. Elizabeth has no doubt that the cavalry will arrive; she has faith in John's team, in the other members of their expedition. She is also amorous enough to give the sex another try. She wants to see the expression on John's face when he comes.
"You've given the logistics a lot of thought, I presume."
John scoots closer, sets his thumb against the side of her mouth. "Elizabeth, you have no idea."
"I think I do," she breathes as their mouths draw closer. "I wasn't only thinking about what I'd do after we were rescued."
Elizabeth grabs a fistful of his shirt as they sit up on their knees simultaneously, kisses him like she did that first time. They have some time on their hands to improve on the rest.
#
For marbleslab
"Could you shift just a little to your--"
"Yeah, sure," he says quietly, and Elizabeth sighs softly in relief. The pressure on her wrist recedes with John's movement, and the short chain of the restraining cuffs linking their left arms clatters briefly in their otherwise silent cell.
She tries to flatten her back against the wall, long past caring about the grime transferring to her clothes and hair. She's five days due a long bath, but she stopped counting after day ten.
Their captors have communicated that she and John should be grateful for the accommodations; a dingy mattress on an uncomfortable metal frame that wobbles under their weight. John had offered to sleep on the floor their first night, but even if it had been next to impossible with the handcuffs binding their wrists, Elizabeth still would have insisted that he share the bed.
John lies on his side, his arm brushing against her hip as he tries unsuccessfully to find a more comfortable position.
"This sucks," he says, frustration lining his voice.
She hmms in agreement and shuts her eyes. They have to sleep in shifts because of the awkward placement of the handcuffs. Wholly intentional on behalf of their captors, she's sure. If she wasn't in this situation she's certain she would admire their sense of humor.
John shifts beside her and rises to his knees. "Let's switch up. I can't get any damn sleep like this."
Elizabeth peers at him with one eye and tsks. "I assure you that rest won't come any easier sitting up."
"I'll take my chances," he replies dryly.
There's a bit of maneuvering on both their parts until John is sitting opposite of Elizabeth on the bed, and she brings her legs to her chest, resting her chin on top of her knees. "Better?"
He looks at her askance, as if to say, what do you think? and she purses her lips in response.
"What were you doing while I was failing to get any sleep?"
Elizabeth shrugs. "Oh, the usual. Thinking about what I'm going to do once we get out of here."
John rubs his chin before leaning back, jerking her wrist forward in the process.
"Ouch! Damnit John..."
He cants forward and takes her wrist in his hand, massaging the skin beneath the metal cuffs. "Sorry. We're dealing with incompetence here. You'd think they'd know enough to get restraints with a little give to them."
"You'd think," she murmurs and nods her head in thanks. His fingers are still on her wrist and neither makes a move to break contact.
Elizabeth glances up from her preoccupation with their hands to find him staring at her. "And what's going on inside that head of yours, John Sheppard?"
He looks away suddenly, his face flushing in embarrassment, maybe? She's not sure.
John's mouth turns up in a slow smile then, as his eyes finally meet hers. She knows that look, has every reason to be wary of its sudden appearance.
He draws a line from her wrist to palm and threads their fingers together. "Maybe we should give that sex thing another try."
Elizabeth laughs, more in surprise than in finding humor in his words. That sex thing was a mistake she had no intention of ever repeating. "Can we really qualify what happened as sex? It was..."
"Bad," he finishes for her with a nod. "I know. That's why we should try it again."
She thinks bad is a gross understatement. It was awkward and disappointing. They were awkward, attempting to navigate around the handcuffs like inept teenagers. The kissing was slow and deep, definitely something they could work with. But their clothing worked against them, and even when they'd gotten both hands jammed beneath her underwear - two of his fingers sliding inside her at a familiar angle - that was as far as they could go.
They'd bumped against each other, nervous laughter giving way to frustration as the sex that had began as an act of comfort turned quickly into an unattainable goal.
They'd gone to sleep on edge and full of regrets.
Elizabeth raises their hands, stares pointedly at their bindings. "I think this makes it next to impossible."
"Hey, I'm a resourceful guy, and you're smart as hell. We can figure it out."
She considers his request. They are bored, and waiting to be rescued by their people. Elizabeth has no doubt that the cavalry will arrive; she has faith in John's team, in the other members of their expedition. She is also amorous enough to give the sex another try. She wants to see the expression on John's face when he comes.
"You've given the logistics a lot of thought, I presume."
John scoots closer, sets his thumb against the side of her mouth. "Elizabeth, you have no idea."
"I think I do," she breathes as their mouths draw closer. "I wasn't only thinking about what I'd do after we were rescued."
Elizabeth grabs a fistful of his shirt as they sit up on their knees simultaneously, kisses him like she did that first time. They have some time on their hands to improve on the rest.
#