new fic (a vignette, really): Hands

[eretria]

So, looks as though auburnnothenna and me are back and forth-ing with random snippets out of nowhere while we don't work on our other stories.
Well, this snippet has a somewhere from whence it came, props to the one telling me where the idea sprang from.
But mostly, this one was written all for the wifey. Who immediately threw me into a dilemma, because this one? I will not label. You can read it as gen, het, slash or threesome, however you wish. I know what I intended this time, and it wasn't any of the latter three options.


This one's quiet. Teyla, Rodney and John, unwinding, all in their own ways.
Super-quick beta by murron



Her hands glide over the broad expanse of Rodney's back, easy, strong and slick, warm, oiled skin under her fingers.

He is silent. It doesn't happen often, but when he is with her, here in this secluded room with only the last rays of the dying light painting the room in a warm orange glow, he is silent save for some spare notes of appreciation.

His back is more tense than anyone else's Teyla has ever worked on. And it always is again, despite all her hard work. Yet, Rodney has never complained about their sessions not having long term effects. Teyla has never done so, either. She knows she will not change him, and she does not wish to.

Knowing that he keeps coming back to her, asking for her hands on him, to knead and smooth away the week's unrest is enough for her. And he does come back, even when it is uncomfortable for him at first and the massage only slowly begins to turn into something pleasant.

Rodney radiates heat, yet, in the beginning, the skin of his back is always cool.

One slow stroke up, one down. One to the side, then one to the other. Teyla is intimately familiar with every mole and scar on Rodney's back now, but everytime, she begins their sessions with the very same pattern, re-learning the feel of Rodney's skin over heavy muscles and round bones.

What she does is not just for him. She misses the easy way her people had when it came to touching, and this is the only appropriate way in which she can touch without remorse here.

So she lets him come to her, week after week, spreads oil with the scent of fresh cut grass between her hands and hides from him that she is getting as much out of this as he is. They do not speak or think of physical love. They know each other too well and know that this, between them, is different. She had entertained thoughts very early on, but dismissed them as soon as she set her hands on Rodney.

He melts underneath them. She can strip everything from him, even words, but not leave him vulnerable, can take away the aches and pains no one else can. It elates and humbles her. Her hand which may have killed during the day can heal during the night.


Rodney always falls asleep during the second part of the massage. She never wakes him, does not take unkindly to him for relaxing enough to sleep.

Teyla does not turn when the door opens quietly. A small draft brings in cooler air. Atlantis only ever acts this way for John, hiding him when he wants to without even having to ask.

He has been here many evenings after Rodney fell asleep. Just sat in the shadows, breathing slow and even, blending into the lengthening shadows until she almost forgot he was there. But his eyes never strayed from her hands on Rodney's back, from the hypnotic glide of skin on skin. She never tried to analyse his behaviour. For all his easy charm, John is often like a wild animal. She knows he would leave if she were to acknowledge him.

He has come closer to them, step by small step in the past weeks.

Today, he does not go to the familiar shadows between two floor length windows.

Teyla keeps her eyes on Rodney's flushed skin, watches her hands glide over shoulderblades and alongside his spine and up to his biceps as John settles down next to her, vibrating tension.

The smell of the oil mingles with traces of sweat and sea-salt.

John is holding his breath. Teyla keeps her breathing even, concentrates on Rodney's sleeping form, on keeping her strokes firm but soothing.

After a while, a hand appears in the line of her vision. A small tremor, then it is gone again, balled into a fist.

Teyla keeps her left hand on Rodney's back, paints minute circles on the small of his back. Her right hand stretches out, palm up, open.

It takes long moments until she feels a touch, almost too light to be real. She waits a moment, then, when she feels more of John's hand touching hers, she closes hers around it. Draws a small circle on the back of John's hand with her thumb before sliding her oil-slick fingers through John's dry and cold ones.

She pulls, just a little, and John follows.

One more small tremor, then both of their hands are touching Rodney's warm skin, resting there, not moving.

Rodney snuffles in his sleep. She wonders if he smiles.


fin


By the way: While you're here already, and if you're feeling like melting a little inside, do hop over to the wifey's (auburnnothenna's) journal and check out her latest two snippets.

Comments

[enname.livejournal.com]

You are too quick off the mark for me. :)

So, you are the one who says she can't write Teyla? I'm sorry, I don't believe it. :P

Draws a small circle on the back of John's hand with her thumb before sliding her oil-slick fingers through John's dry and cold ones.

I like how this matches with the way Rodney's back is cold and changes to warm with the blood flow from the massage and oil. Echoes those three things beautifully and the different parts of his and their lives.

Interesting, because so many people I know who are professional masseuses say that they completely disassociate the body from the person it belongs to. It is still interesting and unique, but separate from the personality. Makes me want to go and talk to the more about that.

[eretria.livejournal.com]

If this makes any sense at all, the two themes in my head while writing this were Le Petit Prince and touch deprivation cure. So, definite association.

And, what, what, was this Teyla? Surely you are mistaken. ;o)

[enname.livejournal.com]

It has been a long time since I've read Le Petit Prince ... and oh. You are right. *goes to re read again with that in mind* I see it now. I just liked how it was all sort of settled in one sentence and between the three of them, but also they are still independent of each other, contained in their own world.

No, no, no. People. You know, non fictional types :P

[ladycat777.livejournal.com]

Oh, wow. This is achingly lovely. Your descriptions of John as a wild animal are, I think, so on the mark -- he's affable and charming but when it comes to the more intimate things, he's skittish and would rather run if it can't be on his terms.

Beautiful, love. Just beautiful.

[eretria.livejournal.com]

You save my day, oh you of the gorgeous smiles. Thank you.

[shadowserenity.livejournal.com]

This is beautiful :). I didn't settle down and read it as "gen" or "threesome" because I think that would have distanced me from the story. You know what they say: don't overanalyse.

I'll most certainly rec this in my lj :).

[ladycat777.livejournal.com]

You save my day

? What you wrote was gorgeous. I was just telling you so :)

[mecurtin.livejournal.com]

I really like the way this reflects auburn's snippet (http://auburnnothenna.livejournal.com/137792.html) about Cat!John. Sooner or later he'll be treading his paws on Rodney's back, then stretching out his tummy to be rubbed. *nodnod*

[eretria.livejournal.com]

Funny, because it wasn't meant to reflect that one at all (not that it's not gorgeous. What I found so highly amusing is that Auburn and me have a cat-theme going in our stories. You could put them together and have a whole menagerie of small purring stories.). Hmm. So far no one but the wifey has found out where this snippet originates from. Okay, admittedly, it was a small line in a story quite a while ago (6 months now, I think?).

Heeh. But the idea of a tummy rub for John amuses me greatly.

[eretria.livejournal.com]

Well, I certainly wrote it as gen, but when Auburn wrote me this morning, saying that it was hot, I did a double-take and wondered: Really? And murron mentioned something about a threesome, and I did even more of a double take.
So, I figured, better no label than one that doesn't fit, hm?
I'm glad you enjoyed the story, and I'm always tickled pink to find out people are willing to rec. Thank you so much.

[blueswan9.livejournal.com]

This is beautiful, just quiet and easy, with enough tension to hold me in that moment when "both of their hands are touching Rodney's warm skin, resting there, not moving." What a gorgeous piece.

[eretria.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much.
This was a picture I've had on my head for two solid days - just John's lands, laced with Teyla's, oil-slick and resting on Rodney's back. It does funny things to my stomach.

[chopchica.livejournal.com]

This is just amazingly sensual and lovely. You have such a gift for saying so much with so little, and your John is just the right amount of wary - he wants it so *much* but is scared of having it even more.

I'm always so happy when you post something new.

[eretria.livejournal.com]

Oh, thank you. You give some of the most lovely feedback out there, dear. (You also write the best cards, that yule one still makes me incredibly happy).
Yes. John in this really reminds me of the fox in Le petit prince. Only John is quiet, doesn't give pointers, relies heavily on others coming to him, taming him.
(Now, how about something new from you? If you feel like writing?)

[eretria.livejournal.com]

And, yes, wow, if I manage one comment without a typo one of those days, you can all rejoice. *pulls the non-native speaker card and waves it, hoping it'll hide the stupidity*
Of course, it should have been hands, not lands.

[chopchica.livejournal.com]

What I also like about this is that it really doesn't need to be labeled as slash or het or gen or threesome. It's about *intimacy*. You can love and care about somebody and want to touch them without it being about sex. And sometimes it's about sex as well, and that's nice too. We don't need to know which direction the characters will choose, because it's not the point. The point is that they're all learning to trust each other and find each other.

In terms of writing, I'm working very, very slowly on a high school au? Does that count?

Side-effects from stuff have really fucked with my ability to write. It's not like writer's block is; it's like there's a giant blank hole where my writing used to be. It started wearing off after six months the first time and then I started treatment again. It's been about two months, so I'm starting to give it a try.

[blueswan9.livejournal.com]

Typos happen. *G*

That image in your head? It's in mine now, and it's making me very happy. Thank you again, for a beautiful fic.

[http://users.livejournal.com/_divya_/]

Oh, wow. This is quiet and lovely. I like that John, at first, is kind of like a kid with his face pressed to the window of the candy shop, but then he realizes that the only thing keeping him out is, well, him, and that Teyla knows that he has to realize that on his own.

[aurora]

God, I love this.

(And I agree with auburn - it's hot).

[monanotlisa.livejournal.com]

Oh, oh.

Lovely. Very much so.

[monanotlisa.livejournal.com]

I'm working very, very slowly on a high school au? Does that count?

To me, it does! & ;-) Very much looking forward to it.

[volari.livejournal.com]

::happy sigh::

Absolutely lovely.

[angelhunter.livejournal.com]

Awww, that was beautiful. And yes, I definitely thought "cat" while reading how you write John. It's that typical "I will come closer, yes, but only on my terms" thing that I think every cat owner will recognise.

Uhm, I really have to work on my feedback skills.

[chopchica.livejournal.com]

Aw, thank you so much!

[teaphile.livejournal.com]

Lovely.

Her hand which may have killed during the day can heal during the night.

Yes. I've often thought about the dichotomy of Teyla, how someone so caring can bring herself to kill when she has to. It's all a part of her own strength.