A Burning Thing (Song and Dance Challenge, Amnesty 2008)

[telesilla.livejournal.com]

A Burning Thing
Author: telesilla
Pairing:Dex/Emmagen/McKay/Sheppard
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~2,500
Disclaimer: The SGA characters do not belong to me. Duh.
Summary: Troupe Atlantis celebrates Mid-Winter with dance and song and music and love.


Notes:John Sheppard? Still totally my Barbie doll.

Seriously this whole fic can be blamed on iTunes. I didn't even know that I had a version of "Ring of Fire" that honestly sounds like belly dance music. Of course my mind went immediately to Belly Dancing John of Horizontal Figure Eight and so here's the latest of my Product Placement fics, which just happened to fit a flashfic challenge to a T. As always, you don't have to click on any of the links below to get what's going on in the fic. They're just bonus information.




To be invited to perform for the Archon on Mid-Winter's Eve was an incredible honor, one that artists of all kinds vied for during the late fall months. John wasn't exactly sure what Rodney had done or who he'd bribed to get them the invitation but he did appreciate the fact that Rodney hadn't whored him out to anyone. Some troupe masters would have done so without batting an eyelash, but Rodney had an endearing habit of thinking of John, and the the rest of the troupe, as people.

Or maybe he just wasn't any good at sharing.

Either way, John thought as he stood naked in the room they'd rented for the week, he was glad he hadn't had to spend a night or two with the Archon's chancellor.

"Spread your arms straight out," Rodney said. When John obeyed, Rodney stepped back. "Well, what do you think? I want something striking, something different."

Lorne tilted his head to one side. "You don't ask for much, do you, Rodney?"

"When people ask who did his paint, I'll tell them." Rodney smiled. "You've seen him dance; you know they'll ask."

"It's a good thing you spent the last few months up north," Lorne said. "He's just pale enough to take bronze, but that's too obvious." He moved over to the table and opened up his box of paints. "All black I think, but not much of it." He looked up at John. "You can put your arms down."

"Thanks."

"What'll you be wearing?" Lorne asked as he paced around him.

John looked at Rodney, who shrugged. "I figured it depended on what you did. Red and orange are traditional."

"Do you have everything he'll need in black?"

Rodney nodded. "With either brass or silver and shells."

"Silver with the shells," Lorne said. "That okay with you?" He looked at John.

"Black? On Mid-Winter's Eve?"

"You're pale enough for it to work." They both turned to Rodney, who spread his hands.

"You're the body artist. As long as he looks good and I get my money's worth, I'll be happy."

"All right." Lorne turned back to his paints. "Out."

"Excuse me?" Rodney blinked in surprise and John hid a smile.

"I'm not going to do this with you hanging over my shoulder."

"Fine," Rodney said and glared at both of them before stomping out.

"Charming man," Lorne said, moving in and running one hand over John's arm. "When did you last shave?"

"This morning." John grinned. "And Rodney's not that bad; you get used to him."

"Uh huh...."

The brushes tickled and as the paint dried, it itched, but John was used to both sensations and he was able to hold poses and remain still all while listening to Lorne's seemingly unending supply of gossip. If John's perfectly natural reaction to having a good looking man paint his skin bothered Lorne, he was polite enough not to say anything.

"There, all done. Give it a half an hour to really dry."

"Thank you," John said. "What I can see looks really good."

"Trust me, 'really good' is putting it mildly; you're an excellent canvas." He packed up his paints. "I'm looking forward to seeing you tonight."

When Rodney came in, he stopped short in the doorway. "Oh...." He shook himself a little and his face resumed its usual arrogant expression. "Well then, I suppose you've earned your fee."

"Thank you," Lorne replied dryly as Rodney led him out of the room.

"You look beautiful, John," Teyla said, when she and Ronon joined John.

"Not bad," Ronon said. "Need a little help there?" he added, gesturing to John's erection.

"No," John said, a little regretfully. "I'm going to need the edge later."

"Afterwards, on the other hand," Rodney said as he came back into the room. "After you dance...."

"After I dance...."

They all waited and John shook his head. "After I dance," he said again and Teyla nodded.

"I do not believe we should practice any further?"

Ronon nodded agreement and Rodney looked at John for a long moment. "No," he said. "I think we're all as ready as we will be. We'll leave you alone...let the paint dry."

"Thank you," John said. Once they'd left, he closed his eyes and began to breathe in and out in the careful rhythm Elizabeth had taught him while she was teaching him to dance.

He was still deep inside himself when Rodney brought him his clothes, and he dressed in silence, letting Rodney do most of the work. For once, as they made their way to the Archon's palace, the other three members of the troupe were quiet and let him walk alone. Once they reached the anteroom where they were to wait, he dropped to his knees and ignored the sound of Rodney and Ronon discussing the music with the other musicians Rodney had hired.

"John," Rodney said softly. "It is time."

Getting to his feet, John removed his shoes and let Ronon take his cloak. Teyla stepped up before him and he bent down and touched his forehead to hers. Rodney handed him his zils and then gripped his hands.

"Subtle, John. Keep it subtle." It was the same thing he always said and John nodded.

The hall was dark, save for an empty circular space right before the Archon's dais. The circle was ringed with bright lanterns and John waited while both Rodney and Ronon paced it barefooted. Finally they both nodded and stepped back to sit off to the right along with Radek and Amelia, the hired musicians. Teyla, robed all in black, took her space just inside the circle in front of the musicians.

"My lady Archon," she said, her clear voice carrying as she bowed to the Archon before turning to address the rest of the audience. "Gentle guests. We are Troupe Atlantis and it is our pleasure and honor to welcome the return of the Light with music, song and dance."

There was a moment when everyone was still, and then Rodney struck his drum, once, twice and three times before settling into a rhythm. Then Ronon strummed his lute and Radek on his violin and Amelia on her guitar followed his lead.

John took a deep breath and reached for his center and then, as Teyla spread her hands, he stepped out of the shadows and into the circle of light, ringing his zils. When Teyla began to sing, he moved as if brought to life by her voice.

As always, John lost track of time as he danced. As long as Rodney's drum gave him a steady rhythm and Ronon and Teyla gave him a melody to work with, he danced, moving from slow and sinuous arm and shoulder movements to faster hip shimmies and then the arching back bends that were his signature movement. He danced about love and light and the passion that came when both returned after a time of darkness and loss. He danced for Teyla and Rodney and Ronon and the memory of Elizabeth, and then, reaching down deep inside of himself, he found that place where the art lived and he danced for the sheer love of dancing.

Finally, he heard the distinctive beat that Rodney used to signal the last minute of the performance and he whirled several times, arms above his head until the music died and he froze into position with one last chime of his zils.

There was a long moment of silence, the true measure of how moved his audience had been, and then they were on their feet, stamping and clapping, some of the women ululating their approval. John remained frozen for a moment and then turned and gestured to Teyla, who came and joined him. After they bowed, they called the musicians forward and all took their bows. Then, chiming his zils and with his hips swaying, John led them out of the hall.

There was a servant waiting to take them to their assigned room. John was vaguely aware of Rodney thanking and dismissing the man, and then, Radek and Amelia were excusing themselves as well. He managed to thank them, but he was glad he'd be seeing them in a day or two when he wasn't still half lost in his own head.

"John," Ronon said, reaching for him. "You were good."

"Good?" Rodney said, watching as Ronon untied John's belt. "Good?! I've never seen him dance that well. John you were...magnificent. Amazing!"

"Rodney is right," Teyla said, as she pulled the zils off John's fingers and then handed him a goblet. "You were at your best tonight. I was honored to sing for you."

John took a few small sips of the watered wine and then put the goblet down. "Thank you," he said, pulling Teyla into his arms as he leaned back against Ronon. "All of you...you were right there with me the whole time."

"Well of course," Rodney said. "You think we'd leave you alone out there?"

"No," John said. He would have said more, but Teyla was kissing him and Ronon was biting his neck and he was moving restlessly between the two of them.

"While this is truly the stuff of fantasies," Rodney said, "we have a perfectly comfortable and very large pile of pillows and cushions here."

"We also have far too much clothing on," Teyla said, her breath warm against John's lips. Ronon's hands slid around John's waist and untied his pants. Taking the waistband in hand, Teyla sank to her knees pulling John's pants with her.

"Ohhhhh...." he moaned as she nuzzled his erection. "Oh please...."

Ronon pulled him over to the pillows and John moved to his knees and then lay back, showing off the abstract flames Lorne had painted everywhere on him, not just where they would be seen by his audience.

"Oh that's just...." Rodney swallowed hard and almost tore the laces of his shirt in his haste to undress.

Finally, and not a moment too late, everyone was naked, their clothes tossed all over the floor.

"How do you want us?" Ronon asked.

"I...oh Gods, I don't know," John said, panting. "I need...all of you." He was still half in the dance, his hips shifting and shoulders rolling against the cool silk of the pillows. "Please?"

"It will be all right," Teyla said as she straddled John's lap. He moaned as she centered herself and then slid down onto him, hot and slick and perfect.

"Yes," John groaned, "yes, Teyla." He changed his rhythm, moving with her as she rode him. It was good and normally, he could get lost just this, but tonight he needed more. Signaling his move with a tap to her hip, he rolled them over until she was on her back and he was settled in between her legs.

As he bent his head to kiss her, he felt hands, broad and sure, on his ass spreading him open. He was not, however, ready for the warm, wet brush of Rodney's tongue sliding across his hole. "Gods...oh fuck! Rodney!" he yelped, fucking Teyla harder.

"C'mere, John," Ronon said, his hands cupping John's face. He kissed John hard, moving his hands down to hold John's shoulders while John twisted and writhed.

"I...John, can I?"

Rodney sounded almost drunk and John pulled away from Ronon to gasp out, "yes...fuck yes!"

Although John was sure he was ready, Rodney opened him up with oil and his fingers before he positioned himself carefully and pushed slowly into John. Ronon took his mouth again and John shivered and moaned against his lips. "More," he said when he'd pulled back to catch a breath.

"You sure?" Ronon asked.

"Yes, he's sure," Rodney snapped. "Right John?

"Yes," John said. "Need you, all of you."

A moment later, Ronon's cock was nudging against John's lips. Opening his mouth, he took it in, licking and sucking hard.

There was a pause and then Rodney moaned and began fucking John with a hard steady rhythm. John took it up and moved with him, letting Rodney's thrusts push him into Teyla, who cried out and matched their beat. Ronon's hands rested firmly but gently on John's head, and John relaxed and let Ronon fuck his mouth. He trusted Ronon, trusted all of them to bring him back from the mindless place he went to when he danced.

This was mindless too, but he wasn't alone here, never alone as long as they were with him, in him, around him....

John moaned long and low around Ronon's cock and pushed into Teyla before moving back to meet Rodney's thrusts. This was easy and so good; he could do this all night. Or at least he wanted to do it all night, but his body, and everyone else's had other ideas. He felt Teyla's hand slide between them, felt her fingers brush his cock as she stroked her clit. When she came with a low sobbing noise, Ronon pressed in hard and John swallowed around the head of his cock.

Two more thrusts into John's mouth and Ronon was coming. John swallowed hard and then bent his head down when Ronon pulled back to collapse next to him on the pillows. "John," Teyla moaned, and he felt her fingers again. "Ohhhhh...."

"She's coming, isn't she?" Rodney asked breathlessly. "Gods, that's so...." He pushed into John hard and bent his head down to bite at John's shoulder as he came.

"Now, John," Teyla said, reaching up to drag a nail across one of his nipples. "Come back to us."

Throwing his head back, John arched and thrust into Teyla before coming with a low groan. Doing his best to avoid landing on Teyla, he let himself fall onto the soft pillows next to her, breathing hard as she kissed him and Ronon stroked his back.

Rodney mumbled something and a moment later, John felt a soft, warm, damp cloth cleaning him off and then Rodney settled in next to him.

"Are you back with us?" Rodney murmured in his ear.

"Mmmmmm...yes." John took a deep breath and let it out, feeling his body finally go still. "Yes," he said again. "I am."

-end-

Links and things:

I apologize for not being able to find henna designs that match what Lorne painted on John. Imagine very stylized almost abstract flame designs rising up from his hips to his torso and then echoed along his arms, back and legs.

"Ring of Fire" by Universal Hall Pass, the song that made me write this fic. Imagine it acoustic and about twenty/twenty-five minutes long.

John's pants
John's belt
John's zils are similar to the ones at the bottom of the page.


(YouTube vid) This should give you a vague idea of how John dances, although obviously the music is different. Also, while John would normally have a lot of jewelry like Rachel does, for this performance he's wearing nothing but paint, his pants and belt.
(Youtube vid) Another fun look at Rachel Brice with some nice close up shots.

Comments

[fishbaum.livejournal.com]

Mmmmmm. I love the fact that the most au part of this, to me, is a John who doesn't mind people seeing him lost in himself. :) Fantastic piece! (Hmm, have Radek and Amelia ever shared in the post-performance release? I imagine after a time, they'd be welcome and trusted.... just sayin'.... ;) )

[d_odyssey.livejournal.com]

Very well done, so sensual and moving. Enjoyed John so outside of himself, lost in the music and the team bringing him back. Great team here, caring and trusting and integral to one another.

[anatsuno.livejournal.com]

Niiiiiice. :D

[almostnever.livejournal.com]

Lovely OT4, nom. :-)

[altorogue.livejournal.com]

Oh that was lovely! I absolutely loved three specific things though:

1. Amelia as a musician. I LOVE her and I love seeing her pop up in things! And with Radek!
2. Usage of the word ululating. :D
3. And . . . well, I lied. It was damn hot, and enough for me to lose my concise train of thought! Ngggggg . . . .