The Softer Side, John/Teyla, 'Season 3-ish'
Title: The Softer Side
Summary: She hoped his nostalgia lasted long into the night.
Characters: Teyla, John, Ronon and Rodney
Pairing: John/Teyla
Rating: K+
Warning: I... I... hate to say it but this piece comes with an uncharacteristic warning of fluff.
“Your hands used to be softer,” he said as he kneaded his thumb into her palm, his long fingers gripping her slender hand in his.
She smiled up to him through her lowered lashes, tilting her head up slightly.
“Yours did not used to be so soft,” she said smiling slightly and he glared down at her playfully. “There is only so much that lotions can do when you wield a weapon for hours a day.”
He nodded, conceding, his eyes turning again to look at her hand, his fingers splaying hers wide, interlocking with hers. She turned from his face - more open tonight than usual - to watch his exploration of her hands and she wondered why his fascination lay there.
“Sorry,” he said quietly after some long moments and she frowned slightly even as she smiled in confusion. He pulled her hand up to his lips and kissed her palm, his lips moist and warm and she felt the familiar tingling in her skin at the contact. “I could get you some gloves to protect them.”
She smiled again, leaning her head against his shoulder for a moment before settling back against his arm, watching as he stayed transfixed by her fingers. She watched his, too now, wondering if his hands had ever been soft; she had worked in the fields on Athos and New Athos, even on the mainland, so she was not unaccustomed to broken, dry skin on her hands but she had always taken care of the cuts and welts with ointments and lotions. She did not think John would be so liberal with moisturiser. She could feel the roughness of his touch whenever he touched her, his skin grating along her soft skin but it was not an unpleasant sensation - in fact, she was sure that it was his calloused skin that made his touch as electrifying as it was.
“If you wish,” she replied to his earlier statement, her voice quiet in the small recreation room that no one ever really used. There was no television in this one, only a few plush chairs and one sofa, a table littered with books and board games and a solitary window overlooking the sea. The room was on fire, the reflection of the setting sun shining in their window from the sea, the sky a bright blood red as the yellow orb dipped below the sea, being chased by the purples and blues of dusk that she loved so much. “Though they would need to be fingerless, like the ones those people on P82-MC3 wear.”
She could feel him tense behind her and she let out a small, involuntary chuckle at his reaction.
“Oh, God,” he murmured as his fingers tightened around her hand for a moment and she turned her head up to him; his eyes were closed and his bottom lip was tucked in between his teeth. She smiled. “Don’t do that to me,” he murmured good-naturedly as he nudged her with his shoulder.
“Do what?” She asked, only partially innocent.
He sighed and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, drawing him further into his side, his fingers dancing across her collarbones, just below her hairline. The touch was delicate and she shivered, placing her hand on his stomach.
“I just had an image of you wearing black leather biker gloves.” His voice was thick and though she wasn’t sure what biker gloves where, she could hazard a guess from his tone. She chuckled as he huffed out a laugh, shifting his lower body slightly. She slid her hand further down his stomach, feeling his belt brush against the side of her palm and she smiled wickedly when his hand covered hers to stop her. “We’ll need to look into getting you a pair of those.”
“To protect my hands on missions?” She asked innocently as she blinked up at him, knowing he would enjoy the teasing twinkle in her eyes.
He turned to her then and for a brief moment she could see lustful confusion in his eyes before it cleared and he grinned down to her nodding.
“Yeah,” he replied with humour in his voice. “For that.” He quirked half a smile at her - the one that she remembered from the first night they met, the one that had drawn her to him - and she returned it with a smile of her own. His eyes scanned her face and she did not look away, allowing him to study her into his memory; his hand rose to her cheek, her lips, her jaw before sliding into her hair. He combed his fingers through her hair, studying his hands work as he did so and she smiled. He was being unusually attentive tonight and while she enjoyed it, she was curious as to the reason why. “Your hair used to be much longer, too.”
She raised an amused eyebrow at him and smiled.
“It has been many, many months since it has been much longer than this.” He looked back to her then, meeting her eyes and she saw the lightness there that she could feel in his touch. She smiled up to him, her hand sliding to his hip as he urged her towards him, his lips brushing against hers for a brief moment before he drew her head under his chin, his hands tangling in her hair. “Anything else you notice?” She said lightly, her lips brushing against the black tee shirt he wore that she appreciated very much. She was concerned by his quiet observations, his gentle assessment of her body though she knew she should not be but it was not like John to be so openly affectionate, especially not in the semi-public setting of the recreation room.
He pulled back from her after a minute, a light smile at the corner of his lips, his eyes twinkling in the late evening glow of the room. He looked happy as he watched her and she felt something swell in her chest and she fought to keep the smile from her lips. She bit the inside of her lip at the heat that flooded through her under his scrutiny and she saw his eyes darken slightly in reciprocation.
“I’m just feeling a little nostalgic,” he said to her then, his tone curious as he toyed with the ends of her hair. She frowned slightly and she felt her heart rate speed up slightly, despite the lightness that still surrounded him and her in that moment. “I’m trying to remember a time when I didn’t love you.” Her eyes connected with his at the words, spoken so innocently, and she felt that swelling in her chest erupt, her breath leaving her in a quiet ‘woosh’ as she watched him lower his lids self-consciously. “I can’t,” he said, his voice thick again and she felt her mask crack as she smiled over to him before dropping her head to his chest, letting a small bubble of pleased laughter erupt from her throat. It was that or tears and she knew he wouldn’t appreciate the latter. “It doesn’t seem like there’s anything before these last two years, here with you.”
She knew he had been married once before - that he had loved another - and to hear those words from him was more profound than any romantic poetry she had read in the books from Earth, or tales from other worlds.
She claimed his lips in a soft kiss, probing, gentle, loving and she could feel his lips twitch in a smile at the contact. She pressed her whole body against him, enjoying the feel of him against her, complete contact as he slid his arms around her back and drew her against him, one hand between her shoulder blades, the other at the curve of her waist.
The doors behind them swished open and they slowly pulled apart, their foreheads resting against one another’s as they let out small, breathy laughs.
“Sorry,” the intruder said and John drew back to look over the back of the sofa to their team mate and friend.
“It’s fine,” he said and Teyla made to withdraw from him but he held her by the waist, drawing her back against his body. She looked over to Ronon who stood awkwardly, half smiling at the threshold of the small room. Behind him, she saw Rodney moving from side to side trying to see why the Satedan had stopped moving. “D’you bring McKay with you?”
Ronon grunted and nodded as he moved into the room, casting a quick glance to Teyla, meeting her eyes for a moment as he grinned at her knowingly. She mock glared back as she turned, resting her head against the back of the sofa and smiled to herself.
“I didn’t bring him but he’s here, anyway.”
She could feel John’s laugh before she heard Rodney’s quick protestation.
“I was working in my lab and then this Star Wars stand in dragged me out to this God-forsaken little room that doesn’t even have a TV just so he could see what you guys were doing.”
Teyla smiled indulgently, pressing against John for a moment when she felt his fingers on the back of her hand.
“Shut up, McKay.”
She tucked her legs underneath her as Ronon began to shuffle the deck of cards that had lain, unplayed, on the table. As he dealt the cards, Teyla rested languidly against John’s side, peeking at the cards he pulled up from the table. She let him look at hers, too. He brushed her skin and teased her with eyes, his words all double entendres that she knew were not as subtle as he hoped they were. She caught Ronon and Rodney’s eyes on them, laughing, more than once and she joined them, smiling at his antics.
She hoped his nostalgia lasted long into the night.