…this can’t be happening…
“Janet, when can I get out of here?”
“Not for a few days. Your scar is still a bit red and you’re not done with the antibiotics.” Daniel rolled his eyes and made a sound of disgust. “I know you’re restless, Daniel, and you want to do something to help them, but there’s nothing we can do. We all have to put up with the waiting.”
Daniel winced as he fell back upon his bed. “I wish I could go get stinking drunk.”
“You and me both, honey.”
He sighed heavily. “Sit and wait, huh?”
She tried to smile encouragingly and failed. “I know. It bites.”
“Yeah, it bites.”
“You want me to bring you anything?”
“No. If I want anything, I’ll go get it myself for something to do. I think I’ll just sit here,” and he started to push himself up but Janet laid a hand on his chest to stall him, then handed him the remote control for the bed. “Thanks.” He pressed the button to raise the head of the bed to a near-sitting position. “I’ll just sit here and write, or read.”
“Okay.” She unnecessarily smoothed the hair from his forehead, though she covered it by placing the back of her hand against his skin. He gave her a small knowing grin and she smiled back. The worry was plain in her eyes, but not just for his teammates. “How’re the nightmares?”
“Not as bad anymore.”
“You’re still having them?”
He gave a brief nod.
“If you want anything, you let me know, okay?” she told him gently, referring to sleep medication. “I won’t be going home for a few more hours.”
She rubbed his arm, then left, casting a worried glance at him over her shoulder. Daniel sighed, appreciating her bedside manner, but what he needed was for his friends to come home, not sleep medication. He grabbed his journal and pen off the bed cart and opened the book up to the last page written.
“….they’re gone. I hope they’re not gone for good. I don’t know what I’ll do if they’re gone for good.”
Sighing with disgust at what he’d hastily written, he started a rewrite.
…..Over and over, Jack, Sam and Teal’c were running through a fireball as they dove through the gate. Over and over, the gate exploded.
Daniel lay in his hospital bed, staring at nothing in the darkened room, as the memories of the repeating nightmare faded. He rubbed at his eyes, telling the tears that threatened to go away. There would be no need for them. They were fine.Jack was fine.
The loud celebratory drum beating signalled another party was starting up.
Sam lay on her makeshift bed of fronds underneath the lean-to, trying to will away the hangover. The sound of the ocean seemed to help just a little as it carried away the noise. She felt movement on the ground and lifted her arm off her eyes just enough to see Jack’s bare feet coming toward her. She groaned.
“Go away, sir. I’m not up for any more partying.”
He nudged her with his foot. “We’ll never have another vacation like this again, Carter. C’mon. You need to loosen up.”
“I’m loose enough, sir,” she said, refusing to budge and refusing to look at him, though her eyes did catch the strung fish he dropped down by the cookfire. “Haven’t you caught enough fish?”
Jack smiled. “Nope. Never went spearfishing before. It’s fun. C’mon, I’ll teach you.”
“I think I’ll pass, sir.”
Jack smiled down at her, grinning like an idiot. “Sasha’s looking for you.”
“‘Sa-shay’, sir, and…I don’t care.”
Jack smirked evilly. He couldn’t get enough of teasing her.
After arriving to P4X-234, and after the Asgard had promptly showed up to fetch Thor, Jack had set up a regular dial-home routine. Soon afterward, they were ‘greeted’ and ‘welcomed’ by the natives. Though Jack had tried to set up the usual security, the natives had become very offended at the interference with their own methods of tribal defense. So, he’d taken a diplomatic page from Daniel’s book, and had relented…to a point. Which meant they would hold watches, but the watches would be relaxed. They didn’t have much in the way of weapons, anyway. The ammunition for the guns they’d carried through the stargate had been spent just after exiting the gate as they’d a few straggler replicators to contend with.
In the meantime, whatever celebration they had ‘gated into, it seemed to be going non-stop, and the natives were very persistent that they join in. So, with Teal’c keeping watch, Jack had decided that he may as well take his vacation now. The incense, marijuana, skunkweed…whatever it was these natives smoked…it was mellow but highly intoxicating. Mixed with the powerhooch they brewed…oh boy. It also didn’t seem to matter whether or not they had smoked any of it, they’d been stoned almost every evening by the prevailing wind of it. Even so, Jack hadn’t allowed himself to actively smoke the stuff, though he’d drank enough of that hooch that passed for alcohol. Good stuff, but it snuck up on you and left you with one hell of a hangover if you drank too much.
Carter was bored out of her skull, but every evening, the native Sa-shay – or Sasha, as Jack preferred to call him – came calling for her, and every evening, she went.
That fourth evening, Jack knew she’d gotten laid. She had to have had. They had all been invited for some ritual skinny-dipping in the lagoon – well, he and Carter. Teal’c had been meditating and growing a strange blond fur piece on his chin. Every time Jack had asked what it was for, Teal’c had said it was for his own ceremony of ‘what-ever-you-call-it’. Jack had then tried to touch it, for which he’d received a hard slap on the hand and been called some name in the Chulak language. That was something else he had to have Daniel translate for him when he got home.
Carter had had both the weed and the hooch by the time she’d entered the water and Jack had laughed his ass off at the image she’d made, a sort of amazonian sea nymph. When Sasha had spooned up behind her in the water, he’d begun moving as if he were dancing along with the drumming in the background. The other natives had paired off, surrounding them, beckoning Jack to join in, but he’d politely declined…and had had to quite adamantly. He could allow these rare excesses for his team, even if it was only Carter this time as Teal’c also preferred to be alone, but he couldn’t allow too much excess for himself.
One, it wasn’t advisable for many military reasons. Two, it had made him feel as if he would be cheating on Daniel. Daniel was his and he was Daniel’s. He could have a good time, sure, short of making out with the natives…or getting too drunk and making out with Carter…but he would not indulge himself in…well, too much fun. He wanted Daniel and he was missing him like mad.
As he’d watched Carter, Sasha, and the other natives create this dance in the water, Jack had entertained himself with notions of what Daniel would be doing if he’d been there. Jack knew that Daniel would likely be in the water, but that brain of his would be constantly firing questions, analyzing, doing the ‘anthropology’ thing.
Jack’s musing had suddenly been cut off as, through his stoned haze, he had detected a change in the scenery. The tempo of the drumming, and the tempo of the people in the water, had changed. When he’d focused to find Carter, he had simply frozen in his place – sitting on a flattened rock along the waterbank. He’d spotted her in a similar position as he’d last seen her, spooned in front of Sasha, but this time, there had been a look on her face that he’d never seen before. An awfully intimate look. The one only a lover should see.
The only light that evening was from the moons and the fire torches reflecting off the water. Jack’s eyes fixated on her face…and on Sasha’s hands. They had been on her breasts, molding and squeezing, and his body had been moving in a very sexual manner, seemingly thrusting into her. Her head had been resting on his shoulder and her mouth had opened, going slack, and she was moaning, loudly. She was definitely getting some.
Jack had swallowed hard, his throat as dry as parchment. He’d suddenly begun imagining Daniel and himself in that warm lagoon, spoon-fucking in the water. The image had given him a tremendous hard-on…just like the one he’d already gotten by watching Carter’s face, her tits, and hearing her moans.
The next day, Jack knew he hadn’t imagined it; he also couldn’t get that scene out of his mind. For two more days, it drove him nuts. Two days filled with fantasies of Daniel.
Through another round of hooch on the sixth evening, Jack had finally had enough. He’d strolled off to the forest for one long very involved session of masturbation. He’d already been jerking off, quickly, here and there, but the fantasies built higher and higher and on that sixth night, he couldn’t take it anymore. Carter was with Sasha; Teal’c was talking to some of the warriors; and Jack’s head was filled with hooch and erotic imagery.
Finding a more or less secluded place, he’d stripped down and begun. The images were mild at first, then they’d escalated with heavier, more carnal need. Then, he was sucking Daniel, fucking Daniel, making him scream with pleasure. Suddenly, the images turned. Daniel was tied to a tree, the ground, on his knees, held by natives. The faster and firmer Jack stroked, the kinkier his fantasies became. Finally, it was just fucking Daniel over and over, watching him writhe below him, calling out his name.
Jack had felt his orgasm near and had thrust two saliva-moistened fingers into his ass, fucking himself with abandon. In the distance, he’d heard Carter’s cry and suddenly, he imagined his dick inside her, fucking her hard while Daniel’s cock was in her mouth. As she cried out her orgasm, Daniel cried out his, coming down her throat.
That did it and Jack had had a tremendous orgasm…all because of that image. When his head had cleared later, he’d felt guilty. He didn’t want to, but he did. He’d then purposely shoved those thoughts of Carter aside, keeping only those desires for Daniel. Throughout the seventh day, the images of what he’d seen and fantasized about combined with the libidinous behavior of the natives to make it harder and harder to keep from thinking of Carter sexually, even in the abstract. He didn’t want her. He wanted Daniel. He wasn’t strictly gay, nor was he blind or dead between the legs, but Jack wanted Daniel, not his second-in-command.
Remembering the past eight days, Jack looked down at Carter, lying on the palm fronds, her arm shielding her eyes…and he was still smirking. He casually looked over her braless t-shirt, staring at the hardened nipples…then moved on to her tight trousers, which despite the heat, she insisted on wearing…well, when she was sober. He couldn’t help but see her differently now…even though missions of the past had led him to seeing her naked, he’d never seen her have sex. That had been a first. He didn’t feel too much of a spark of arousal, but it was there…simmering. Thinking of Daniel, on the other hand, got him hard as nails, but thinking of Daniel while staring at Carter was not a good idea.
He nudged her leg again and the hand across her midriff swung out blindly, slapping him away. He barked out a short laugh, then nudged her again. She removed her arm and stared at him.
“Sir, I don’t mean to be out of line but…you’re cruisin’.”
“You’re simply no fun, Carter.”
Sighing, he walked away from her and plodded through the sand toward the gate and the DHD, thanking whatever gods there were for the miracle of this planet. They had no change of clothes and no real way of washing thoroughly, but, they were alive. The only thing missing…aside from actually being home, and having a hot shower…was Daniel. Gods, he missed Daniel.
Leaning against the wall with one arm, Daniel jerked off slowly, carefully, making certain he’d not hurt himself by pulling on an abdominal muscle. He simply couldn’t wait to get home – and in private. That was one more week away and the build-up inside him had become too much. The nightmares had turned – part time – to erotic dreams and he just couldn’t take ignoring them anymore.
His fantasy image was of fucking Jack over the hood of his truck, out in the open air of the campground they’d visited. The fantasy then shifted and Jack was in the dirt, on his hands and knees, grunting loudly as Daniel pounded into him, harder and harder…
“…faster and faster, making Jack scream, yes, scream! That’s it, Jack, scream for me…come for me, yes, come, come…”
His mind shouted the words and he was soon jerking his hips, spilling over his hand and against the urinal. He rested a moment, feeling only slightly satisfied afterward, and still very lonely. But it helped. Just a little. It helped. He cleaned up and left his office’s bathroom and gingerly lay down on the couch, throwing an arm over his eyes. Tomorrow, he had to go see Janet for an examination of his surgical scar and surrounding tissue. At least the staples were out so he could now show Jack his scar without it looking like he’d been sown with the world’s largest sewing machine. He smiled wistfully, hoping that Siler and his team would have the gate hooked up soon.
Eight days. It had been eight excruciatingly long days.