itch

As far as accommodation went, Teyla found the cave remarkably livable with its oddly tasteful wooden furniture. The smaller caves inside were self-contained spaces, curtained off to create rooms.

When Teyla was pointed towards her room, she didn't expect to find a bed with heavy blankets and pillows. It seemed that in his quest to become a Wraith killer, Ford hadn't completely forgotten the comforts of home.

Teyla walked around the small room for a while, looking at the rug and the only piece of furniture in the room, the adequately sized bed.

A shiver ran through her, bringing up small pinprick bumps all over her skin. She folded her arms tight across her chest, not cold, but shaking anyway.

The enzyme was in her, calling out for more. If she was completely honest with herself, she would willingly take another dose right now. Anything to stop feeling so edgy, like she would jump out of her skin any moment.

Teyla fell back on the bed and closed her eyes, ignoring the odd hunger that was gnawing at her insides. A heavy sigh escaped her as she let her fingers dig into the heavy quilt on the bed.

It was everywhere, the need for more. There wasn't a pore in her body that didn't feel achingly empty.

Teyla covered her mouth with the back of her hand, fingers curling into a fist as she turned over and pressed her forehead against the coarse material. She drew a leg up, pushing her knee against the quilt, feeling a crackle of friction.

She felt incredibly hollow, as if anything could just pass through her center and she wouldn't even know it. And the hollowness was spreading outwards, making her thin and transparent enough that even a breeze was able to make the tension coil deep down in her.

Teyla angrily brought a fist down against the mattress. It seemed like the only thing that helped dissipate the wild energy that was pouring from her like heat and smoke from a fire, like waves of water rushing towards a rocky shore.

If she didn't break something soon, she would go insane.

Teyla rolled off the bed and strode out of her room, not even bothering to put on her shoes and ran straight into one of Ford's men. Teyla gave him a tight-lipped glare and walked past.

"Hey, where do you think-?"

Teyla's hand snapped up quick, cutting off whatever he was going to say. She continued down the small corridor until she came to heavy brown drapes.

She shoved them aside and walked in, feeling the material brush her as it fell back into place. Even that smallest touch from the drapes made her swallow, the way it felt like someone had touched her lightly across her shoulders and behind.

Teyla made no greeting to the man on the floor. She just stood there and watched him, her breathing hard like she had run a race.

Ronon ignored her, pumping out one push up after the other. His teeth were bared and he grunted every time he neared the ground, the muscles in his arms tense and hard, his bare back slick with sweat, his shirt, boots and coat lying in a pile in the corner.

"Can't sleep?"

Teyla didn't say anything. Now that she thought about it, she had no idea how Ronon was supposed to remedy her situation. Or possibly, she knew, but she had no idea why she expected him to remedy her situation.

Ronon stopped his push ups and got up from the ground, flushed and sweaty. Teyla clenched her jaw as the smell of sweat hit her nose and seemed to burn a trail right through the middle of her. There was something else too, something she had never noticed before the enzyme. Ronon smelled like an early morning prayer. Like the incense her mother used to send up in drifts of smoke that smelled like spice and wood.

Ronon walked up to her, his hand going up to massage the back of his neck. "I say we can take them."

Teyla shook her head. "We have no weapons."

"I don't need any," Ronon said, watching her closely.

Teyla looked away, knowing why he felt so invincible. For someone like Ronon, a man that already had much confidence in his own abilities, the enzyme probably made him feel indestructible. It wasn't far off from how she felt. Indestructible, with a dangerous urge to break something.

"What?" Ronon asked, a note of irritation in the question.

"Colonel Sheppard wants us to wait," Teyla said, looking up at Ronon.

Ronon's lips clamped shut as he reined in whatever he was thinking. He didn't like the situation, but she knew he would never go against Sheppard. None of them would. There was never a reason big enough to.

Teyla sighed and looked at the floor, resisting the urge to grimace at the skittering need under her skin, coiling deep in her stomach and telling her legs to give in and buckle. Instead, Teyla leaned against the wall, letting her head fall back and her eyes close, her hands fisted at her sides.

She could hear Ronon step closer, smell him, so sharp it stung her closed eyes. She knew that if she looked at him, he would be standing over her, leaning with one hand above her head. She could even see the look on his face.

“You really want it, don't you?” he mumbled.

Teyla nodded. Of course she wanted it. It was all she could think of. In this moment, she would do anything for it.

Teyla swallowed and opened her eyes to look up into Ronon's green-eyed gaze. “This is what it must have been like for him.”

Ronon shrugged. “Your friend seems to be handling it.”

“He thinks he is handling it,” Teyla said. “I fear that by tomorrow morning we will think the same.”

Ronon shook his head. “It can't be enough to get us hooked. Not yet.”

Teyla stared at him, her senses focusing on a single heated drop of sweat that was rolling down her spine and making the rest of her body quiver. “You don't feel anything?”

Ronon smiled. “Maybe I'm just handling it better.”

Teyla didn't realize her fist was headed towards Ronon's face until it had collided, hitting his jaw hard and sending him staggering back. He rubbed his jaw and smiled at her as she stood there, giving him a small nod to indicate exactly how well she was handling something of the Wraith in her blood.

Ronon stood in the middle of the room, hands by his side, his body still shining with sweat, shadows playing with the rise and fall of defined muscles, and his hair framing his face like a lion's mane. “Should've just told me why you're here.”

Teyla stepped forward, straightening up and rooting her feet to the ground. “I came to talk. But you seem to be in need of a distraction.”

Ronon smiled. “Me? Or you?”

“There are ways to find out who is the most distracted,” Teyla said, calm and collected on the outside, untidy and unraveling underneath.

For a moment, she hoped Ronon felt the same way, because his smug exterior was beginning to grate on her already frayed nerves.

Ronon brought his fists up, inviting her into his space and Teyla went fearlessly, shaking aside a loose strand of hair and bringing up her fists. Ronon circled her as she waited for his first move. His fists left his space every now and then, just to toy with her, pretending to attack and withdrawing.

Teyla kept her eyes on him, watching his body, the slight shifts that usually seemed sharper without the cry of need from her body. Now it was like trying to fight a blurring phantom.

It was pure frustration that prompted her first blow. There was the minutest space appearing between Ronon's face and fists, the smallest of shifts in his stance and Teyla's fist pushed through swift and connected hard with his mouth.

Ronon tripped back, but didn't fall. His thumb went to the corner of his mouth, feeling around as he eyed her, something dangerous flaring in his eyes. He looked at his thumb and then shook his head, stepping back into their invisible sparring circle.

“You are slower,” Teyla said. “You are not tracking my moves as usua-”

Teyla fell to the floor, the messy backhand sudden and hard enough to make the room spin. She wanted to laugh at the uncoordinated and undisciplined looking move that had taken her feet from under her, but instead got up, Ronon waiting and grinning with an almost childish looking pride.

“You were saying?” he asked.

But Teyla was on him quick, twisting on her right foot and kicking with her left, catching his mid-section and following it by turning into the kick and launching herself at his considerably larger frame, meeting his throat with the elbow of a rigid arm.

Ronon fell on his back, taking Teyla with him and within a second she sat straddling his body as he coughed and frowned at her, looking surprised for the first time since they had met.

“I was saying,” Teyla said breathlessly, “you are not tracking my moves as usual. It seems that perhaps you are not handling it as well as you think.”

Ronon just stared up at her, his breathing hard under body, lifting her up and down the smallest amount possible, but enough that it made Teyla want to reach inside her clothes and just take care of herself.

“Why'd you really come here, Teyla?” Ronon asked, quiet and almost undecipherable in that lazy way he spoke, like it was too much of a bother to be loud for deaf ears.

Teyla breathed in deep, stiffening as she looked down at him, realizing that she was straddling his stomach, glowing and shining warmly in the dimly lit room.

“I couldn't go to the others,” she said softly. “They would not understand.”

Ronon lazily reached up and tugged on the strings that zig-zagged across her neckline. “Understand what?”

Teyla smiled, watching his finger idly tugging, feeling it tug somewhere inside her.

“Those who fight together, fuck together?” Ronon asked lazily.

Teyla closed her hand around his larger one, pulling it away from its obsession with her neckline, guiding it to her waistband instead, where he let his fingers slip behind and tug.

“Things would be more...complicated,” she said quietly.

Ronon gave a small laugh that rumbled beneath her, making her warm and soft and hollowed just by the sound.

Ronon slowly sat up, Teyla moving from his stomach, to right there, where he was hard underneath her, the only things separating them being nuisance pieces of clothing.

Teyla reached out to stroke his face, her fingers smoothing over the corner of his mouth where she had hit with intent to hurt. Anything to stop her from hurting. She leaned in close and rubbed her bottom lip against his, feeling his mouth open under hers, but make no other move but breath in anticipation.

“How long as it been?” Teyla whispered into his mouth, moving slowly across his thighs, pressing down on the bulge, wanting him to be inside her already.

Ronan smiled against her lips. “Long enough.”

Teyla smiled, holding his face in her hands and kissing him. It was slow at first, his mouth accepting her almost gratefully, kissing slow, his tongue curling around hers, her teeth harshly raking across his lips, because it was all she could to stop herself from biting his full mouth.

The kiss deepened and Teyla felt his body tensing, as if sensing her own urgent need. She felt Ronon wrap an arm tight around her waist and lift her up as he rose from the ground. He settled them both down on the bed and went to unfasten her shirt.

Once open, Teyla let him push it off her shoulders and slide it down her arms as she watched his rapt expression. Ronon's hand reached out tentatively, going behind her head and pulling off the band that held her hair together.

Teyla felt her hair fall to her shoulders, brushing against her skin and sending a jolt of desire through the center of her body.

Teyla smiled at Ronon. “I think I will leave your hair as it is.”

Ronon laughed. “That's a good idea. I don't think I can wait that long.”

Teyla stroked down the center of his chest, scratching the surface of his skin lightly with her nail, leaving behind the lightest of pink trails before settling on the waistband of his pants. “Then what are you waiting for?” she whispered.

Ronon grinned, feral, his eyes wickedly alight. “Want it? Take it.”

“It is not what you will be saying soon,” Teyla said with smirk.

Teyla stood up on the bed, unbuttoning her pants as she watched Ronon beneath her, looking up with something in his eyes she couldn't place. As she pushed down her pants and stepped out of them, he made quick work of unbuttoning his own and pushing them down.

Unlike her, Ronon didn't seem one for undergarments. He sat back and pushed off his pants, throwing them on the ground as he went back on his knees, his cock hard and jutting out from a nest of dark hair.

Ronon's hands were on her hips, and Teyla couldn't stop looking at his mouth, those full and oddly sulky lips. Most men weren't this beautiful, she thought. There was always something that turned their beauty into what people called handsome. But Ronon, he had that full mouth, eyes that smoldered even if he was looking at nothing.

His fingers were slipping underneath the edges of her thin slip of cotton shorts, pulling them down from where they were molded to her skin. He pulled them down slow, his eyes on hers as he did so, one hand pulling them down, the other stroking down her leg, his thumb rubbing over ankle and letting go as she lifted one foot and then the other for the garment to come off.

Ronon reared up, closed in, letting both his hands go to her legs, fingers splayed and stroking the backs, smoothing across her behind. He stared up with a strange daring look in his eyes, and never breaking the look, he moved his mouth to her thigh, opening it and letting his lip slide against her skin, before kissing it and then sucking, lightly holding the flesh with his teeth as Teyla gasped and closed her eyes, her hands coming to his shoulders and legs trembling.

She stumbled back on the bed, her back meeting the wall and Ronon's hand in hers a second later, holding her fingers tight as his other hand went to her leg, guiding it up until his shoulder was under the back of her knee.

Teyla opened her eyes, hungry for him and watched Ronon as he kissed her stomach, slow. Too slow. Teyla let her other hand curl in his hair and aid him in his direction.

A moment later she was pressing her head back against the wall, tightening her grip on his hair as his tongue slid into her, lapping in long licks, sucking and making her so wet she felt her body draining of whatever it was that kept her standing.

And he was there, right there, his tongue lapping at the spot. Firelight, they called it. Always an ember waiting to be stoked. Never really extinguished.

His fingers were digging tight on her hip, her own hand squeezing Ronon's other hand hard, like she might break his fingers. Teyla swallowed, pressing down on the pressure of Ronon's mouth, meeting the licks, reaching for them, forgetting about things like air and politeness. She wanted more. She pressed his head closer, pushed down on his tongue and felt a puff of laughter before Ronon's fingers gripped her hard and his tongue pushed harder and further until she was moaning into each attack of his beautiful mouth, until she was exploding into his mouth and crying out with a laugh and gasp that echoed in the small room. Or maybe it was more than one laugh and gasp, because there was a constant sound in her ears, going around and around.

She slid down the wall, dropping to her knees, her body hot and sweaty and Ronon's mouth over hers, offering salty kisses, his arms wrapped around her waist and his cock, hard, leaking and nudging her stomach. She looked at his flushed face, that wicked look in his eyes before he kissed down her throat. One of his hands splayed low down on her back and she leaned back without fear of falling, letting his mouth close over a nipple and suck hard, letting teeth scrape up her breast and suck on her collarbone, his fingers straying down again where she was still wet, waiting for more and beginning to feel painfully empty.

“I want you,” Ronon whispered into her ear, two fingers sliding in, making her clench around them, push onto them, ride the wave that hadn't beaten the shore hard enough.

Teyla moved forward, breathless and burning up, kissing him hard and pushing him onto to his back as he watched her with a smile, watched her taking what she wanted.

Teyla slipped off the bed and grabbed her pants, fishing in the back pocket until the silver foil package came into her hand. Ronon watched her curiously as she straddled him, sitting up on her knees.

She tore the packet with her teeth, taking out the rubber. “Dr. Beckett gave these to the people on the mainland,” she explained. “When he went to inoculate the babies.”

Ronon nodded with a smile, watching her fingers as she rolled it slowly over the tip of his cock, tensing and breathing in when she rolled it the whole way down, his fingers bunching up the sheets.

Teyla smiled. She liked him like this. Like this, he was even more beautiful. Taking him in her hand, she guided him into herself, slowly lowering herself down until he was all the way in and their bodies met and locked into place.

Ronon bucked up into her with a frustrated grunt as Teyla rocked on him slowly, her fingers spread out on his stomach. She moved in a small indistinguishable pattern her body didn't bother to identify to her, letting him touch her inside where she wanted it most, where it sent shocks of pleasure into every atom of her body. She clenched tight around him, making Ronon groan and call her name brokenly.

Teyla closed her eyes and smiled, moving ever so slow, letting the need dissipate with every drop of sweat.

Then she stopped and opened her eyes, relishing the way he filled her perfectly,

Ronon looked up and frowned at her. “What?”

Teyla leaned forward, clenching ever so lightly, feeling him shudder under her. “Want it? Take it,” she said breathlessly.

Ronon stared at her, a little shocked looking. Then he grinned in that way when he was being baited, challenged. In one swift move, he sat up, grabbed her around the waist and went to his knees, her legs wrapping around his waist as he lowered her onto her back and kissed her.

Then he thrust deep and hard, Teyla tightening her legs around his hips, urging him in deeper. The bed seemed to shake with every thrust of his powerful body and his eyes stayed on her, never breaking away as he watched her breath hard, gasp into each thrust and reach out to grab the bars at the head of the bed.

She closed her eyes, letting him take her with him, hoping he would push the need into her where it couldn't come back from. And when just when she thought it was over, that he was close, she felt his weight shifting on the bed and a finger circling that spot, the firelight, rubbing her and making her arch into the touch, grind down on it.

She clutched down hard around him, lurching up off the bed with a cry and into Ronon's tensing body as he came with a choked gasp. They dropped back down together, slick with sweat and burning under their skin.

She idly stroked the back of his shoulders as they lay there, all the energy having left her body and exhaustion finally tugging on her eyelids. Ronon looked up at her, blinking slowly and then offering languid kisses, one for her mouth, one for her throat, another for her shoulder and one for where the curve of her breast begun.

Disposing of the rubber, they lay together for a while, Ronon falling asleep with his cheek on her stomach after his fingers had played on her hips for a while. In sleep, he separated from her, looking peaceful, but as unreadable as when he was awake.

Teyla dressed and kissed the corner of his mouth, where a bruise should have appeared but never did.

She went to her room and lay herself down on the bed, not feeling the itch of the Wraith enzyme clawing at her insides for the moment, thinking instead of all the places she had been touched and purged.

She closed her eyes, a scent on her skin reminding her of an early morning prayer and coaxing her to sleep.

- the end -