Summary: Post-New Order
…one step forward…
Five months, Daniel thought, and laughed sadly inside. Hard to imagine that five months earlier, he’d been sharing a shower with Jack after waking up from one of those damn nightmares, reenacting the same tragedy over and over, only with eye-flashing alteration.
Stop being so morbid, he chastised, shaking the image from his mind, and walked out of the elevator when it stopped at Level 27. He was on his way to the General’s office and though it’d only been a week, it still felt weird. On the upside–in a depressingly pessimistic sort of way–Jack now had an excellent excuse for ignoring him.
Daniel knew he shouldn’t think that way and ordered himself to get a grip. Er, not exactly the right phrase to think of when going to see someone he used to sleep with. Had slept with. Was going to sleep with. Hopefully. Maybe. Shit, he hadn’t a clue. And apparently wasn’t too good at taking orders, either.
Three months. Hard to imagine. It had been last week, hadn’t it? When he’d been staring at Jack’s immobilized face, unintentionally memorizing the expression of near panic which had brought him a new set of nightmares to replace those of Janet. Hers were still brought back from time to time though, like an aging star from the old silver screen.
Not for the first time, Daniel wished he would have a nervous breakdown; something that would be a normal reaction, instead of stoically hiding his feelings and pretending things were…just fine. Didn’t people who buried and repressed their emotions end up shooting strangers in a McDonald’s?
With a sigh, he strolled through the threshold of the briefing room and slowed when he saw that Jack was on the red phone. Jack looked up at his movement in the room, took another look, and went on with his phone call. Daniel hovered outside the door, watching out of the corner of his eyes for Jack to finish and hang up.
Daniel pushed down the anxiety and fear as he wondered which Jack would do: get rid of him quickly or actually invite him in to see the office digs. Not that there was anything to see from what Daniel could tell. Jack wasn’t used to actually decorating his office, even if his previous office had been a refurbished closet, which in Jack’s book meant that he’d never had one. Office, that is.
One more internal scold, this one for letting his mind run amok. He wasn’t just being paranoid; he was worried. Jack hadn’t shown him any interest or recognition of their relationship, even during the few times alone. No secret words or references to the past, nothing to read between the lines.
It was as if Jack had forgotten. Daniel was keenly aware now of exactly what Jack had gone through when he’d descended without his memories. Jack was just spiteful enough to pretend because he loved winding Daniel up. And Daniel let him, for which he had yet to figure out why.
“Hey, Daniel,” Jack said from the doorway, and Daniel–with his back stupidly to the door–whirled around, startled.
Great. Let’s look like a high-strung idiot and give Jack a reason to get rid of you.
“Hey. Uh, just thought I’d come by finally and see your new office.”
Jack looked him over as if Daniel had somehow changed skin color when he wasn’t looking. “C’mon in then,” he said, gesturing. Behind him, Jack locked the door. “Have a seat, Daniel. Take a load off.” He then closed both sets of blinds, then crossed to his desk and held down a button on his conference phone. Daniel slowly sat down on the edge of the chair, still taking in the sight of Jack sitting there instead of Hammond. Weir had been surreal.
“Margie, no calls. And tell Walter that whatever it is, it can wait. I’m in a meeting with our senior archaeologist and getting brought up to speed.”
Jack grinned when he looked up from the phone. “I can’t get used to that.”
“What? Being called General? I can, uh, imagine.” Daniel looked around the room, but at the blinds and the door, going back through Jack’s actions. “Are we having a meeting I wasn’t aware we were supposed to have, ’cause if so, I didn’t bring anything with me or…anything…”
Jack walked around the desk and sat on its edge… right in front of Daniel. He held a rubberband, absently twirling it between fingers, as he looked at Daniel calmly.
“What?” Daniel asked, shifting nervously. Was he going to be fired or something?
“You haven’t been sleeping,” Jack finally said.
Surprised, Daniel tried to dismiss it. “Um, just the usual amount when stress is…um…so…” and he gestured at the office. “Nice digs.”
“You’ve been in here a few times already, Daniel,” Jack teased. “Nothing’s changed.”
Daniel got up and moved behind the chair, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he needlessly studied the walls and tidy furniture. “No, guess not, but you could’ve been busy while I was…um, busy.”
“I’m the General now, so I’m always going to be busy.”
Jack was still sitting there, fingers twirling that stupid rubberband, and he had the nerve to look smug; what about, Daniel wasn’t going to guess.
“Right, well, then, um, I guess I’ll get back to um, being busy…then,” and Daniel started for the door.
Jack was somehow there before he was, one hand on the knob, the other on Daniel’s left shoulder — the first time he’d touched him since their last team night.
“Stay, Daniel. I have something to say.”
Shit. He knew it. Daniel had hoped that Jack would just leave it be, to go on ignoring him instead. Limbo for relationships was death, but it was better than being dumped, closure be damned. But Daniel’s luck hadn’t been running well lately, except for finding Thor and getting Jack cured. He knew with a fatalistic assuredness that there was no way he could argue his way out of this one. He sat once more, again on the edge of his seat, but after a few seconds, he couldn’t just sit there and hear it.
“Listen–” Jack started, but stopped when Daniel was up and out of his seat like a shot.
If it had to end, then he had to be the one to do it. He was so tired of being the dumpee. “No, wait, let me say it, okay, ’cause uh…” He crossed his arms tightly over his chest and stood by the window that overlooked the briefing room. He glanced occasionally in Jack’s direction and spoke rapidly, as he usually did. This time, however, it was out of self-preservation against Jack’s aggravating need to interrupt.
“I know what you’re gonna say and you’re right. I mean, there can’t be anything anymore, can there? I mean, no more risks taken now, and despite all the precautions, there would always be some power-hungry bastard trying to take you down or take the SGC down, and I won’t allow that to happen through any action of mine, so um…I agree.” Daniel nodded, curtly, allowing himself a glance at Jack’s face, which was a mistake. He caught a glimpse of an emotionless, stony expression.
That hurt. Daniel really needed to get the fuck out of there before he said something stupid and defensive and really, really immature.
Jack crossed his arms, his eyes boring right through Daniel like a laser. God help any Goa’uld now. A rather absurdly-timed feeling of pride started to bloom in Daniel. Having Jack at the helm wouldn’t be bad at all. He could get over being in love with him. He would get over it.
“What’re you doing?” Jack asked.
Daniel wondered yet again if the doctor had been wrong about Jack’s completely healthy recovery, with memories still intact. If Jack didn’t know what he was talking about, then… “Um…”
“You said I could do anything I want,” he went on.
So no memory problems but that tone didn’t sound good. “Yeah…”
“I didn’t intend to end things, Daniel.”
Crap. Fuck. Okay, no problem. Don’t panic. Deal. You can do this. “Well, what we intend and what we have to do are two–“
“No, Daniel, you’re not listening. I’m not ending things.”
Daniel felt his throat swallowing, realized it was dry, and took the pitcher of water from the back table and poured himself a quick glass and drank it down. He wasn’t going to look at Jack this time, either. Relief was palpable, but embarrassment was running at an all-time high so it was in charge at the moment. So, not looking.
Then Jack’s hand was on his shoulder and Daniel panicked as he whirled around at the speed of light. “Are you insane, Jack?”
“Probably, but there’s something about this office,” he said, cracking a grin.
“So not funny, and so not doing this,” and Daniel edged himself away and headed for the door. He was caught halfway, pushed against the wall by Jack’s uncanny instinct to know how to do this with just one hand on his shoulder–in this case, the left. Arousal, sharp and dangerously needy, sent a spike of energy deep through Daniel’s groin. “Jack, dammit,” he hissed.
“What?” Jack asked. There was a look in his eye and it made Daniel pause and hold his breath. Jack knew something he didn’t.
“Okay, what is it?” he asked.
“Do you think I’d actually risk something if this office weren’t safe?”
Daniel wanted to laugh. “Jack, the NID and whomever else wants a crack at us wouldn’t hesitate to–“
“Already checked and spy-proofed, Daniel.”
That caught him up. “Um… what?”
Jack sighed with impatience and took a step back. “I can appreciate you wanting to protect me, but honestly, Daniel, I think I can at least do that for myself.”
Daniel felt himself relax against the wall…a little. He looked around, as if he’d spot something. “So…”
“So…there’s nothing to worry about. Now, can we talk or what?”
“Talk here?” Daniel asked…then winced at the stupidity. “Of course here. Sorry.” He took a deep breath and pushed away from the wall, only instead of sitting back in the chair, he moved to the back table again and leaned against its edge. “You were gonna say…?”
Jack let his impatience show again as he moved over to stand before him. When Daniel looked down, Jack lifted his chin. “I missed you,” he said, and kissed him softly.
Daniel’s body froze, including his breathing, but when Jack’s lips opened, tongue plying its way inside his mouth, the immobility unlocked and Daniel’s hands flew to grip the edge of the table. Jack’s left hand slid under his shirts, skin slightly cold as his fingers travelled up Daniel’s back. The kiss deepened and a puff of breath blew through Daniel’s nose in place of a moan.
“It’s been a long while,” Jack said quietly as he pulled away just enough to speak.
Daniel couldn’t find his speech center, overwhelmed by the emotions he’d held in check for months; hell, for the last week. He was able to nod though, grateful for his ability to communicate on a non-verbal level; always a useful tool when dealing with Jack O’Neill surprises. Other ways of communicating were soon used when Jack’s right hand opened his trousers, freeing Daniel’s cock from its confines.
Another kiss, slow and building in need, then Jack pulled away once more, grabbed the pillows off the office sofa, and tossed them on the floor in front of Daniel’s feet. Without a word, Jack let his trousers fall to his ankles, then dropped to his knees.
Daniel stood there, dumbfounded and in shock for a few seconds as wet heat enveloped him… before he gave in. Completely. He closed his eyes and dropped his head back, fingers gently moving through Jack’s hair as the astounding pleasure of Jack’s mouth consumed his need. Daniel rocked his hips a little, in time with Jack’s wicked ability to get him hard and fit to explode in just a couple of minutes. He hissed at the cool air when Jack pulled back. Then came the sound of foil tearing.
Daniel’s eyes widened in further shock and surprise. Here? Now? He looked down and found Jack placing the condom over his… mouth? Then he went down, smoothing the latex down the shaft, using his tongue with magical ability to get Daniel to the point of orgasm.
The table began to vibrate with Daniel’s effort to resist and hold off, and he gasped when Jack’s teeth grazed the side of his shaft through the sheath of latex. The sound of Jack’s mouth working his cock was almost too much, and Daniel felt himself sway as his body threatened release.
Daniel’s pants were pulled down, dropping to the floor, and he was consumed with another kiss while Jack’s hands swarmed over his ass, fingers finding, probing, invading. “You should never have told me I could do what I want, Daniel,” Jack whispered against his throat before he gently maneuvered him around and away from the table. Then came the hurried and restless words against the back of his neck. “Don’t move. Stay just like this.”
“Jack…” Daniel started, caught between the urge to tell him this wasn’t a good idea and tell him it was the best fucking idea he’d had in years. He hissed a breath through his nose as Jack held his hip with strong, bruising fingers while he slid the lubed…lubed?…fingers of his other hand between his cleft. Down, slowly, easily, and inside, plunging with effortless motion, loosening him just enough.
Daniel couldn’t help but bite his lips together, breathing harder, faster, helplessly, through his nose, keeping back the sounds he wanted to make from his throat. It was quick, unexpected but somehow it was what he needed, definitely what Jack needed as he rubbed his now-protected cock against Daniel’s opening, wiping away any leftover cognitive ability. Only instinct remained.
A long push inside, and there was no wait. No wait at all, and Daniel might have insisted on a short wait some other time, but not now. Easy stroke back, then hard fingers on his hips, holding him firmly in place as Jack thrust forward, spearing him with quick efficiency. It was different this time. Only a few thrusts, then Jack’s arms surrounded him, held him tightly as he began to grind.
As Daniel stiffened his legs and kept still he realized that Jack couldn’t thrust. Too damn tempting. As well protected and insulated as this office was, they couldn’t risk the sound of skin slapping against skin. The thoughts disappeared abruptly when Jack found his gland, pulling all the pleasure up and out. Jesus. Did the Ancients give Jack a little leftover something? Holy shit.
The room was filled with quiet, restrained breathing, and Daniel was just on the verge of telling Jack to forget the risk and just fuck the hell out of him when Jack bucked. Once. Hard.
It was good. There was heat and shuddering pleasure every-goddamn-where. Daniel wanted to shout and yell and scream every obscenity that could be thought of just to get it again, but he didn’t need to. Jack did it again. And again. And Daniel couldn’t help the sound, a whisper of a moan, then Jack’s lips were at his ear, telling him what he wanted to do to him over and over.
It was good to listen to his voice, hear him say those words, hear the emotion. God, Daniel wanted it to last forever, but it couldn’t, and somehow, that made it better. Jack knew that, too, when his words went from pornographic to sappy, intending to push them over the edge. The words and Jack’s voice combined to rob Daniel of his breath, and with his hand on his cock, holding and squeezing, and he shot repeatedly into the condom just when he felt Jack do the same inside him.
There was hot breath behind his ear, the sound of rapid breathing, and the feeling of a fast heartbeat against his back. Goddamn, it was so difficult not to make a sound, to let Jack hear how pleased he was, how good he felt. So damn difficult.
Licking his upper lip, tasting salt, Daniel sucked in a breath and glanced at his watch, then stared at it for confirmation. No, it couldn’t be, but he’d seen the time just before Jack had begun to fuck him. Four minutes? It was some kind of personal record, he thought.
Then the thought was gone, because Jack was pulling out, turning him around and consuming his mouth, tongue communicating the post-coital words whispered only seconds after they had come. It was funny how hot those words had sounded, when Jack had whispered them through bites over his throat. “I love you,” and “Thank you,” and “I want to do this again.”
Well, of course he wanted to do it again, Daniel told himself as he dressed, stealing a quick, hard kiss. He was General Jack O’Neill now. He could do whatever he wanted.