and this is called vodka
Aug. 18th, 2004 12:45 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fizzawrites“And this is called vodka.”
McKay pours it into Teyla’s Ancient-looking goblet and takes a swig from the bottle for himself.
“Cheers?” she asks.
“Yes, cheers.” He raises the bottle. “You learn fast.”
Teyla bites her lips in an effort to keep concentrated on whatever she is she’s supposed to be learning about Earth customs. But suddenly Dr. McKay is very funny. But no, she was learning about all the different kinds of beer and then something called champagne.
“You drink this vodka in… celebration?” There seems to be no rituals, no importance tied to any of the things McKay has put in her cup.
He leans back and looks at her sideways, “Yeah, but also when we’re pissed and depressed.”
“For what reason are we drinking it now?”
“We’ll there’s always that third category of ‘just cause’, and sometimes ‘cause you know you’ll wake up and…” he trails off and stares at the ceiling.
She does not understand football, and she definitely does not understand this. But she doesn’t feel like leaving.
“What were we talking about?” McKay smiles at her from across the room.
“Earth customs, this…vodka.” She takes another drink from her goblet.
“What about your customs?” he says “What’s with that thing where you touch each other’s noses? Looks like your smelling what’s in there.”
Teyla tries to compose herself, but a little giggle pushes itself past her mouth. “It is a way of greeting those who you trust” She laughs out loud now. “It has nothing to do with the contents of the nose. It’s a sign of respect, and of happiness.”
He puts the bottle down on the table.
“Teach me.”
“It is not complicated.” And she gets up from her chair, careening to the side and crosses the room. “You extend your arms onto the other person’s shoulder.”
He plops his hands down on the edge of her shoulders, gripping her collarbone. She can smell it all on his breath. It is actually more intoxicating.
“Lower your head…”
He does and emits a snort of laughter.
“Is this funny to you?” She teases.
“No, not all.” He smiles again, but his lips are closed, pressed into themselves. “It’s beautiful, a beautiful gesture.”
“Now, bring the tip of your nose to mine, and then let your head drop.”
He touches his forehead to hers, but he doesn’t stay there. His hands drop from her shoulders and press against her lower back and he tilts his head to find her lips.
This is not a custom she has learned yet. But her hands find the back of his head and she presses up against him.
His tongue clicks on her teeth, and she closes her eyes. The blackness and his hands disorient her and she loses her balance, taking him down on the chair with her.
“Mmm, here.” His jacket has already been off for a while, but she begins reach up his shirt, tugging at the fabric to slide it off his body. He pushes her hair aside and wetly kisses her neck. She pushes him away enough to push his shirt over his head. Her actions seem to wake him up from something. He sits up.
“I thought… I mean, you and Sheppard…” he stumbles.
“Never did this.” She finishes.
He bites his lips and says nothing else and wraps his hands around her hips and tugs at her pants. It’s the first time he’s glad that her midriff is always exposed, but it’s not helping him either. He licks the skin around her bellybutton and she gets the hint, pushing them down herself.
He absentmindedly wonders if the Ancients had surveillance systems and takes off his own jeans. There’s barely enough room on the chair for both of them, but they are right there, closer than ever. His forehead is even touching hers again. He kisses her quicker, their mouths both wet from the vodka and each other. The chair and his fear that Elizabeth will come walking through the door makes him feel like he’s running against some clock.
Teyla has forgotten where she is, and all she knows of him is that mouth and where it is trailing around her body. He leaves her mouth and circles his tongue around her thighs and her brain stops giving up excuses about what reasons there are for any of the things that humans do.
McKay pours it into Teyla’s Ancient-looking goblet and takes a swig from the bottle for himself.
“Cheers?” she asks.
“Yes, cheers.” He raises the bottle. “You learn fast.”
Teyla bites her lips in an effort to keep concentrated on whatever she is she’s supposed to be learning about Earth customs. But suddenly Dr. McKay is very funny. But no, she was learning about all the different kinds of beer and then something called champagne.
“You drink this vodka in… celebration?” There seems to be no rituals, no importance tied to any of the things McKay has put in her cup.
He leans back and looks at her sideways, “Yeah, but also when we’re pissed and depressed.”
“For what reason are we drinking it now?”
“We’ll there’s always that third category of ‘just cause’, and sometimes ‘cause you know you’ll wake up and…” he trails off and stares at the ceiling.
She does not understand football, and she definitely does not understand this. But she doesn’t feel like leaving.
“What were we talking about?” McKay smiles at her from across the room.
“Earth customs, this…vodka.” She takes another drink from her goblet.
“What about your customs?” he says “What’s with that thing where you touch each other’s noses? Looks like your smelling what’s in there.”
Teyla tries to compose herself, but a little giggle pushes itself past her mouth. “It is a way of greeting those who you trust” She laughs out loud now. “It has nothing to do with the contents of the nose. It’s a sign of respect, and of happiness.”
He puts the bottle down on the table.
“Teach me.”
“It is not complicated.” And she gets up from her chair, careening to the side and crosses the room. “You extend your arms onto the other person’s shoulder.”
He plops his hands down on the edge of her shoulders, gripping her collarbone. She can smell it all on his breath. It is actually more intoxicating.
“Lower your head…”
He does and emits a snort of laughter.
“Is this funny to you?” She teases.
“No, not all.” He smiles again, but his lips are closed, pressed into themselves. “It’s beautiful, a beautiful gesture.”
“Now, bring the tip of your nose to mine, and then let your head drop.”
He touches his forehead to hers, but he doesn’t stay there. His hands drop from her shoulders and press against her lower back and he tilts his head to find her lips.
This is not a custom she has learned yet. But her hands find the back of his head and she presses up against him.
His tongue clicks on her teeth, and she closes her eyes. The blackness and his hands disorient her and she loses her balance, taking him down on the chair with her.
“Mmm, here.” His jacket has already been off for a while, but she begins reach up his shirt, tugging at the fabric to slide it off his body. He pushes her hair aside and wetly kisses her neck. She pushes him away enough to push his shirt over his head. Her actions seem to wake him up from something. He sits up.
“I thought… I mean, you and Sheppard…” he stumbles.
“Never did this.” She finishes.
He bites his lips and says nothing else and wraps his hands around her hips and tugs at her pants. It’s the first time he’s glad that her midriff is always exposed, but it’s not helping him either. He licks the skin around her bellybutton and she gets the hint, pushing them down herself.
He absentmindedly wonders if the Ancients had surveillance systems and takes off his own jeans. There’s barely enough room on the chair for both of them, but they are right there, closer than ever. His forehead is even touching hers again. He kisses her quicker, their mouths both wet from the vodka and each other. The chair and his fear that Elizabeth will come walking through the door makes him feel like he’s running against some clock.
Teyla has forgotten where she is, and all she knows of him is that mouth and where it is trailing around her body. He leaves her mouth and circles his tongue around her thighs and her brain stops giving up excuses about what reasons there are for any of the things that humans do.
