Written for the "Kissing comment fest" at the LiveJournal community Lost City Found last month - the challenge was simply to write about a kiss.
x x x
Dance Dance
It doesn't surprise him to see her watching the first dance intently, the hand at her side flicking and twirling in time to the women that whirl past them. It also doesn't surprise him to see that his eyes are not the only pair trained on her by the time the song ends.
"May I have the honour of this dance?"
Evan looks up to the see the Chancellor approach from her other side. He barely catches the corner of her smile as she rises and places her hand confidently on top of their host's.
If all eyes weren't on her before, they are now. She moves hesitantly at first, gaze flicking from one neighbour to the next in an attempt to remind her feet of where they should be. He watches her progress across the room, taking in the way that her shoulders loosen and her smile widens with her growing assurance.
As the song ends, her partner pulls her against him tightly. Taking her cue from those around her, Teyla lifts one leg and leans back, allowing him to carry her weight. From his position at the edge of the hall, Evan can see that her eyes are closed and her cheeks tinged a pale shade of red. Even at a distance her blissful smile makes his own lips curl.
By the seventh dance, he feels confident enough to make an attempt himself. She tilts her head and smiles almost to herself as he stands before her, eventually taking his outstretched hand. The dance has already begun and they join in at the outer fringes, where the push and pull of the throng is not so intense. They move together more fluidly than he expects, the occasional stumble greeted with a brief shared chuckle before they find their rhythm once more.
As the music slows, he pulls her close, hand slipping beneath her knee as he prepares to balance them both. She leans against the hand that rests at the small of her back, and his eyes follow the glistening layer of sweat that trails from jaw to collarbone. He can't resist tilting her back a little further. His breath catches in his throat as she presses the raised thigh into his hip in an attempt to maintain her balance. He counts the beat of the drum in his mind, knowing that he must set her on her feet on the fifth.
She moves faster than he does on that fifth beat, her head still hung back as her chest presses forward into his. He doesn't know what it is that propels him to inch forward to capture the hot, smooth skin of her throat between his lips. She freezes, fingers tight against his spine. It is only when she swallows, the movement rippling into his mouth, that his mind registers where he is and what he is doing. And more importantly, who he is doing it to.
He retreats, eyes meeting hers only when both feet touch the floor and her hands fall away from him. Her expression is one that he has seen whenever they encounter new worlds; guarded, cautious, sharp. She pulls away, though not as quickly as he had expected.
"Thank you for the dance, Major."
Her eyes don't meet his for the remainder of the night.
He has only just removed his boots and jacket when the knock on the thick wooden door rouses him. Her look is defiant, almost challenging as she stands before him.
"I'm guessing that you're here to kick my ass?"
She leans forward and tilts her head until the steady breath that passes through her parted lips blows hot against his earlobe.
"If that is what you would prefer." She moves her hands up to his chest and pushes gently, following him into the room as he stumbles backwards.
"I had something altogether different in mind."