Inhibitions
Author: wanderingsmith
May 2008
Summary: A drink brings Elizabeth clarity
Rating: it's PG13, but pushes the envelope.. so I figured I'd be safe
and say NC17
Beta: Thank you comanche_rider! :)
Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to pay me
for this.
Walking Elizabeth back to her quarters after the party thrown for
Ronon's birthday, John accepted her vague wave as an invitation to come
in, watching with an amused grin as his tipsy boss-lady went to her
computer, seemingly forgetting his presence in her room.
He'd stayed out of the athosian alcohol, not wanting to risk what he
might do without his self-control. Which meant he'd gotten to enjoy
watching everyone else get a little silly. If not outright hilarious;
Carson was going to be busy tomorrow.
Elizabeth wasn't so bad; solid on her feet, just a little perkier. Even
more teasing than usual. She laughed and seemed to relax, and he spent
the evening silently following her; pretending he wasn't pretending to
be her date. Luckily he spent enough time as her shadow during daily
life that most people didn't take note of him; not even the sober ones.
When music started up, he refocused on Elizabeth, stepping away from
her laptop with her eyes closed and starting to sway. "When Zelenka put
'My Immortal' on, for some reason I couldn't stop thinking of this
song."
He was watching her hips wave forward and back to the music, his mouth
open in shock, wondering faintly if someone had snuck alcohol, or
worse, into him without his noticing...
When she spun with the change in beat, enough of his blood got back to
his head for him to hear the words of the song and identify it as
'Hunter'. And to keep himself from being over-ensnared in her again.
Instead he watched her appreciatively; and saw the gamine glee in her
closed-eyed grin. He finally couldn't help the laugh.
"You look about 17 years old!"
She laughed along with him, refusing to let him deter her enjoyment,
swaying over to him and dragging him into the centre of the room to
dance, allowing herself to hold onto the alcohol-induced freedom a
little longer.
John just watched her, shuffling his feet so it was a little less
obvious. She was so relaxed; having so much fun. He couldn't help
wishing he could see her like this more often; that she could *feel*
like this more often. He was smiling at her, probably way too tenderly
and being way too obvious, barely restraining himself from kissing her
as he took the hand she held out and twirled her. As she came to a stop
smiling right at him, he couldn't stop the too-familiar thought; 'God,
I love you so much.'
Happy from her dance and the companionship, Elizabeth had drunk just
enough to admit to herself what his expression was saying. And to
respond without thought, "I love you too."
John's breath caught and he froze, not knowing where to jump. She was
drunk, she'd regret saying that. Would she remember? Would she remember
seeing through him?
Reacting to the worry in his expression, she lifted her hands to his
temples, rising on tip-toes to kiss his brows with a silent caring she
usually kept buried.
When she was back on her feet, he smiled sadly, relaxing somewhat and
accepting her gesture, realizing he needed to acknowledge her words or
he'd regret it.
"Love you. Have for a long time."
"Good," Elizabeth smiled back, raising herself again with a glint in
her eye that made John stiffen again. He was familiar with that look,
it meant *teasing* was incoming... What was she up to now?
"What are you doing?" he spoke softly as her lips landed on the corner
of his.
"Seeing how seduceable you are," she answered while trailing kisses up
his neck.
His eyes fluttered closed, "By you, all too easily," he practically
moaned, still keeping his hands to himself, feeling half lost in
sensation; from a few kisses on his *neck*? Shit! He was in so much
trouble. "But you're drunk Elizabeth, and you'd kill me in the morning."
He felt her lips move on his skin, "Not *that* drunk."
One of her hands slipped to his crotch, "Definitely, not that drunk,"
she purred, feeling herself throb as she squeezed his stiffening flesh,
hearing him gasp.
"'Lizabeth, stop this." He took the hand away firmly, shuddering
convulsively as she continued with the kissing.
She pulled back, "John," she looked him in the eye, "I'm not drunk. My
inhibitions are a little low but I am aware of my actions." She sighed,
having drunk enough to allow herself to regret the lonely years,
looking away as he let go of her hand and she went to playing with his
shirt buttons absently. Then she looked back and John could see sadness
and humour mixing in her expression. "Come on, that wasn't news. To
either of us."
He raised his brows, "Wasn't it?"
"John?" She looked worried now and it was his turn to sigh, taking the
hand sneaking into his open shirtfront and turning it between his as he
watched. Thinking of how often he'd stared at those pale limbs covertly
as she typed or held a mug; or just waved them about while trying to
get a point across. How often he'd wished she would touch him. How
often she *did* touch him. He finally nibbled at the ring finger before
grudgingly admitting, "No. Not shocking news."
She gave him a half-exasperated, half still-worried look. "Okay. So why
all the arguing?"
He rolled his eyes, frowning repressively at her, "By your own
argument; nothing's changed. So why suddenly..." he trailed off with a
questioning brow.
"Jump your bones?" He gave her a wounded-puppy look, making her grin,
"Because it's easier to admit I was wrong to keep us apart after I'm a
little mellow. *And* easier to admit that just touching you," she
grinned, "makes me wet." His hand was too late to stop her saying the
word and as it left her lips and hit his ears, she saw his pupils
dilate; his nostrils flaring, unconsciously searching for confirmation.
When her hand slipped back out of his and onto his aroused cock, he was
done fighting. If she could argue that calmly, she was sober enough.
And *she* was seducing *him*... that might give him a few safety points
when she sobered up, right? And she loved him... Hearing those words
was a whole other feeling than simply 'knowing' it. His lips quirked in
surrender, letting himself rock into her touch, shaking his head in
disbelief as he felt himself shudder, even sober he was going to have
to watch the self-control...
Elizabeth stepped back, taking both his hands and leading him to her
bed. She wanted to see that cherishing look again. Wanted to see him as
relaxed as she was. She wondered idly what he would have done if he'd
been the one to have a few drinks.
When her knees hit the edge of the bed, she hesitated, wishing he would
give her a sign that this really wasn't against his wishes. Teasing
aside, she would never...
She lost the train of her thought as he put a hand at her nape and
pulled her lips hungrily to his. Hot and thick, his tongue was
everywhere, holding her in place to take what he wanted; letting her
take everything in return as she demanded to taste and explore for
herself.
She felt the shiver that went through him when she played her tongue
along his; oh my, what a lovely idea, she thought, tensing. How long
since she'd been with a man who wouldn't be put off? To have the
freedom of his body, the freedom to make him shiver and shake with
pleasure. To *taste* the link between possessing and belonging, woman
and man. To taste everything that *made* him a man; *her* man.
Before he could reduce her to an incoherent, moaning puddle of need,
she pushed on his shoulders to separate them, breathing hard and
feeling the fire between her legs. She switched places with him and
smiled enticingly, "Let me play tonight?"
John wondered what he was in for, grinning and more than willing to
find *this* out the hard way, "When have I not?"
With a last quick kiss, Elizabeth gave him a push, following him down
onto the bed to crouch over him, feeling his hands idly stroking her
thighs as he watched her eagerly. Oh yes, she was going to enjoy this
man. For the rest of whatever time they had.
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