Inhibition7
John dragged himself from sleep hearing a noise. He woke. Found himself sprawled naked in his bed. Moira was cuddled on top of him. Her naked body pressed to his. She was fast asleep. Loose hair a brown swirl over them, around them. He smiled, kissed her brow. He couldn't quite remember removing their clothes. Figured it must have been after the slightly rougher sex against the door and before the prolonged lovemaking on the bed. Twice. He smirked, impressed by his stamina. By hers. Not caring if it had been the pulse wave or not.
Gently he scooted out from under her as the noise resolved itself into a knocking on the door. He ignored it. Stretched, feeling replete. Feeling incredibly relaxed. Happy. Cool air wafted along his naked skin. Drying the sweat, the stickiness of their intimacy. He yawned. Ran a careless hand through his disordered hair.
"Moira? It's Carson, love. Moira?"
John sat. Frowned. "Just a sec, Carson!" he called. Glanced at Moira who stirred, reaching for him. He leaned close, kissed her. "Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I'll handle this." He slipped out of the blankets. Hastily pulled on his clothes, finding them scattered all over the floor. He smirked, recalling their haste, their eagerness to continue after the door. To indulge fully on the bed. In the bed. He moved to the door, opened it. Stood blocking the view of the bed. Smiled smugly. "Carson. Results?"
Carson raised a brow at John's appearance. His shirt half tucked into his unzipped, buttoned pants. Belt askew. Hair disordered more than usual. Bare feet. The proud, satisfied gleam in his eyes, on his face. "Not as pleasing as yours, colonel." John laughed. Carson smiled, continued, "I need to confer with Moira on this. Is she–"
"Asleep," John informed. "Relaxed, well, now. Very. I don't want her disturbed, all right? Surely you can see that she needs to sleep, right?"
"John?" Moira stirred, hearing his voice. She stretched in the bed, rolling onto her back. Smiled. "Oh John, John," she purred with a happy sigh. "Sweetie, come back to bed. That was exquisite! All three times! Oh John...John, even my toes had an orgasm that time!" She heard male laughter. "John?" She sat, abruptly awake. Covered herself with the blankets hearing not only his laughter but another's.
"I'm glad your toes are as happy as the rest of you," Carson jested.
"Carson?" she squeaked, staring at John's back.
"Shall I come back in ten minutes?"
"Make it five, Carson! I just need to get dressed and oh shit oh shit!" she muttered, frozen in place. Body still redolent with John's warmth, John's tongue, John's cock. Waves of remembered pleasure suddenly vivid.
John laughed again. "Make it ten, doc." He winked, closed the door. Turned. "So, baby...what would that be? A toegasm?"
"Shut up, John!" Moira scrambled out of the bed as he laughed. Grabbing her clothes as John watched her mad dash around the bed and into the bathroom.
John grinned. Sauntered to the closed door. "Hey, baby...that was a show!"
"Shut up, John!"
He laughed again. "Hey, baby. Sweet and slow like I promised, right? Twice! After the kinky at the door. Every inch of you, literally this time. Toegasms and all."
"It's not funny, John!" she flared, hastily pulling on her clothes, flustered.
"It is funny, Moira. Deliciously funny. It's all right, baby. Carson knows we have lots of–"
"Hilarious, John! Shut up!"
He laughed again. "You were right, baby. It was fucking exquisite. Lush and ripe...every fucking inch of you."
"Why don't you make yourself useful?"
"I thought I already did. Repeatedly."
Moira laughed, too enamored to be angry for long. "Yes, sweetie, you most certainly did. Repeatedly. But I meant why don't you make the bed?"
"Oh. Okay, Moira." He smiled as he moved to it. Eyed the wild disorder of blankets and comforter. Pillows askew. He began to fix the bed. "So...Moira...what exactly does a toegasm feel like? Was it when I took you at the door? Or the first time on the bed? Or the second in the bed? How do toes come, exactly? How does your ow!" He whirled, feeling Moira's hand slapping his rear.
"Hilarious, John! Why don't' you get that fine, fine ass in gear, colonel, and get me some food! I'm starving!" she scolded.
He smiled. Kissed her. "So am I, baby. I'll see what we have but we need to restock." He sauntered into his room.
Moira smiled, headed for the door as a knock sounded. "Oh John!" she called. "Zip up your pants, damn it!" He laughed in reply. Moira snorted, but was suddenly self-conscious. She smoothed down her shirt, her pants. Flung her loose hair behind her shoulders. She opened the door. "Carson. Please, come in. Um, um, sorry! Sorry about the...um...delay."
"It's all right, Moira," Carson soothed, entering the room. "I'll just assume you were busy consulting with John again."
She laughed, following him to the table. "Yes, exactly. Sorry."
"Sweetheart," John called from his room, "there is only one sandwich left. Give me your best offer for it. And by your best I man your naughtiest little oh." He paused on the threshold between the two rooms, food and beverages in hand. "Hi Carson." He smirked as Moira glared at him.
"Let me guess. More consultation?"
John laughed. "Yeah." He sat next to Moira as she took a seat between the two men. Carson opened his laptop. John took half the sandwich. Opened a beer. "So you—"
"John! You could at least offer Carson a beer!" Moira scolded, opening her water.
"No thank you, love. Go ahead. Eat. I'm fine," the doctor assured.
"Thank you." Moira attacked the half of the sandwich. John ate his with equal expediency.
"My preliminary findings are that this wave is like the enzyme. And it's not."
John sighed. "Do all you scientists talk that way?" he complained, glancing at Moira. She was sipping her water, avid gaze locked onto his every mouthful. At his smug, knowing expression she scowled, looked at Carson.
"Blood work?" she asked.
"No. Except for traces of higher concentrations of endorphins. Naturally produced. Chemical stimulation but no traces of foreign substances," Carson answered.
"Brainwave patterns?"
"Yes. Exact areas affected by the storm."
"ATA?"
"Mostly."
"Stop! I hate it when you talk in shorthand!" John complained, looking from one to the other. "In English, please. Full sentences," he reprimanded.
Moira smiled, patted his thigh. "Sorry, colonel. The pulse wave triggered the same autonomic impulses like the enzyme, but not in the bloodstream. Rather in the areas of the brain which produce those impulses, raising the endorphin levels to aggravated states with a higher emotional, primal behavioral–"
"Never mind," John sighed. "Go back to shorthand."
Moira laughed. "Sorry, John."
"The good news is that the affects are temporary. They should wear off in a day or two," Carson stated. "The sedatives are helping as is the enforced isolation."
"So no ill affects. No long-term consequences," John surmised. Sipped his beer. "That is good news. And the bad?"
"There's no bad," Moira argued. Paused. "Is there?"
Carson shrugged. "There's a wee bit of bad, I'm afraid. It's going to get worse before it bets better. Some are experiencing headaches. A few nightmares."
"Well, that's only to be expected, and nothing new," John reasoned.
"I'm more concerned with the after affects," Moira said softly. Her hand still resting on John's thigh. She licked her lips. Looked at him. "Are you sure there's nothing else to eat? I'm still hungry, " she complained.
John smiled. "Positive. Sorry. We're cleaned out. Except for some stashed chocolate bars."
"Damn," she muttered. "And it's not funny, John!"
"Did I say it was funny, Moira?" he asked, grinning. Amusement and warmth in his brilliant green eyes as she met them. "Carson, are we still in quarantine?"
"Yes," Carson said, looking from one to the other.
"Let me run to the cafeteria to grab her highness here some hot food. And for me too. If there is one thing I've learned it's not to leave a pregnant woman hungry." The men laughed.
"John! It's not funny!" she flared, hitting his thigh.
"Hey, you don't have to tell me, Moira. I've seen you when you are hungry, and believe me, there is nothing humorous about it." They laughed again.
She sighed. "Then go! Get my food, flyboy! Move that fine, fine ass of yours ASAP! And bring some peanut butter!"
"Peanut butter? Hmm..." He raised a brow.
She smirked. "No! To eat! That's all! Go!"
John laughed. He kissed her. Stood. "As ordered, sweetheart. I'll be back in ten, Carson. Feel free to get all sciency without me."
"Go on, colonel, I can finish conferring with Moira," the doctor agreed, amused.
John smiled. "Just as long as you don't consult with her."
"John," she warned, seeing the mischief in his eyes.
"Because that's my purview."
"John! Go!"
He laughed. "Well, it is, Moira. Mine. Back in ten."
"Make it five, soldier!" She smiled, watched him pull on his boots and swiftly depart.
Carson smiled, shaking his head. "You two," he fondly observed.
"What? Oh...well...you know. Right after, well, not right after," she quickly corrected, blushing, "but sometime after, um, he...I...he gets rather...um..."
"No, no," Carson laughed, seeing her embarrassment. "I didn't mean that. I've never seen John so happy. Or you. The two of you together, I mean."
"Oh." She smiled. "We are happy. Mostly. Very. I...he..we..." She eyed the table. Traced her finger on it, abruptly shy. "I...I love him, Carson. He loves me. Even, even now. Even like, like this. I mean... I mean I am so in love with him and he, he loves me."
Carson smiled. "Obviously, Moira. And especially like this. I didn't meant to upset you, love. I'm just happy for you and for John."
"John said. John said we, we are wrapped up in our own little world. Our own little circle of heaven. The three of us. So we don't really notice, um, the affect that might have on, on others...um...how we...how I..."
"That's understandable, Moira. But you do need to be aware of these things," Carson gently advised. "I know that you are John's top priority, and he is yours. But you must be mindful of other people."
She sighed. "I know. I...know now. I should have realized..." She met his gaze, shrugged. "It's only gotten worse now, with my pregnancy. I mean, our, um, our exclusionary practices."
"Again, perfectly normal, Moira. Just keep in mind that your friends enjoy your company too."
"Yes, and John...John has so many responsibilities here and missions...that's why we try to spend as much time together as we can, when we can."
"Of course. I'm not suggesting anyone impinge on that, Moira. I merely–"
A knock sounded. Moira rose, moved to the door. Opened it. Stared at a marine holding a tray laden with food. "Yes?"
"Doctor Sheppard, this is for you." She stepped aside, gestured. The man carried the tray to the table. "Colonel Sheppard ordered me to bring this to you. He said he'd be along presently."
"He said...oh oh..." She exchanged a look with Carson. Both hastened out of the room.
