Joy's Fiction Stargate SG-1 Slash Fanfiction

Intervals 50

I


Intervals 50

Summary: Post-Origin (again)

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… magnet and steel …

~

Dressed in his fatigues, Daniel waited in his infirmary room, impatient and restless, wishing Dr. Lam would hurry up and tell him he could go. What the hell was taking so long anyway? He needed to get out of here, grab his research discs and go home. And then call Jack, give him the good news-bad news thing.

Daniel leaned against the foot of the bed and crossed his arms, wondering what Jack would say about his new apartment. Much better than staying in VIP quarters. It had windows. It was also sporting that just-moved-in look, filled with boxes and crates from storage and a few of Sam’s donated plants and furniture.

He needed to get the rest of his belongings out of storage and hadn’t had a chance to get to it yet. He could talk a few airmen into helping him, but he didn’t want to abuse his authority. Teal’c wasn’t available, Sam was busy, and he really didn’t want to ask Mitchell. The man was a nice guy but he had a tendency to take charge and it had clashed with Daniel’s way of doing things already.

Hell, Daniel was still trying to get used to him calling him, Jackson. It didn’t bother him too much, and in fact, he found it strangely comforting, but it held a familiarity Daniel wasn’t sure he deserved. Every other member of the military, even Kowalsky and Ferretti, had called him Doctor Jackson, not Jackson. Daniel had learned enough over the years to know that when someone in the military called you that, it meant you were accepted.

Unless they were in a position of subordination, then they almost always called you by your title. Walter did and Daniel had known him from the beginning, but Daniel could now tell by Walter’s inflections when the title was meant fondly or as one addressing a superior. Daniel wasn’t so sure he deserved that, either.

And Daniel still didn’t know what to call Mitchell, other than, well, Mitchell. Cam was okay, but there was no way in hell Daniel was calling him Shaft. Besides, he wasn’t a pilot and call signs were reserved for that group. He wasn’t about to call him Sir. He could use his rank but it seemed too… unfamiliar and rude. The man had, after all, saved their lives. And he was so easy to like. Until you crossed him. Daniel liked that aspect about the man. Reminded him of Jack.

And like Jack, Mitchell also had a dangerous personality. Good for getting things done. Good for the military. It was bad for his enemies, and oddly, bad for people who were attracted to him. Mitchell drew people in, made them like him. His natural charisma ebullient and overtly alpha male. Like Jack.

And he had a very nice ass. Also like Jack.

Daniel rubbed at his face and began to pace, telling himself that he didn’t need to be thinking that, never mind getting caught looking there. It had almost nothing to do with the bigoted rules. It was a matter of belief. Mitchell had had a religious upbringing and even if he wasn’t religious himself, it meant that he’d been given the “homosexuality is evil” speech ad nauseam.

Daniel didn’t want to know if the man believed that garbage. Not right now, not when he needed to trust the man leading them in combat situations. In the face of the Ori, stupid Earth hatreds were secondary. One bad guy at a time, please.

Daniel stopped, feeling a short wave of dizziness, and grabbed at the bowed frame at the foot of the bed. Vala. Damn that… woman. He felt like shit for having treated her badly just before she’d gone and risked her life. Something so contrary to the personality she showed everyone. He hoped Sam was right and that maybe Vala was alive in the Ori galaxy. And if so, better them than him.

Closing his eyes, he rubbed firmly over his forehead and breathed in deeply, trying to relax, but then…

Mitchell showed up, startling him by coming up behind and grabbing him around the waist. “C’mon, Jackson, you’ve been sprung,” he said, stepping away before Daniel could smack him one.

Daniel threw him an annoyed look, making Mitchell grin impishly. “Where’s–” Daniel started to say, but Dr. Lam appeared in the doorway with her clipboard. “Never mind.”

“Well, Daniel, like the Colonel just said, you’re sprung.”

“And the verdict?”

“You’ll probably have dizzy spells for a few more days, but I’m not certain because you’re patient zero for this kind of thing.” She grinned sympathetically when both Daniel and Mitchell groaned. “Yes, that means you’re on downtime until your metabolism stabilizes.”

Daniel narrowed his eyes. “Okay, what’s the bad news.” When Mitchell glanced in confusion, Daniel raised a finger to forestall any interruption.

Lam offered him another sympathy smile. “You’re on a No Driving restriction. When 72 hours have passed without a recurrence, then I’ll consider lifting the restriction.”

“I hate being escorted,” he grimaced. Mitchell put an arm around him and chuckled, making Daniel’s belly do weird things.

“That’s okay. I don’t mind the duty.”

“No,” Daniel said, rolling his eyes. “You’ve got things to do, Mitchell.”

“SG-1’s not going anywhere, Daniel,” Lam reminded him. “Not until you’re 100%.”

“Can’t go anywhere without my wingman,” Mitchell half-teased.

Daniel groaned. “That’s considerate, but–“

“Hey, don’t sweat it,” Mitchell said, slapping him on the shoulder. “I think I can handle escort duty for a few days. You’ll live.”

“I’m not sure you will,” Daniel retorted, making Lam smirk sarcastically at Mitchell. He was starting to like her.

“I’ll muddle somehow,” Mitchell replied. “C’mon, let’s go. Got something to show you first before we head out.”

Daniel eyed him warily. “What?”

Mitchell gave him that scarily misleading grin. “Trust me.”

“With a gun, yes,” Daniel teased, “But with everything else?”

Lam grinned again and left the room, snorting to herself. Mitchell tossed the smirk to Daniel. “She likes me.”

“How can you tell?” Daniel said as he walked out.

“You need a wheelchair?” Mitchell asked, following him.

“Don’t be an ass.”

Mitchell grinned expansively. “Yup, General O’Neill said you’d say that to me, sooner or later.”

Daniel frowned at him as they walked. “He did?”

Scratching at his right brow, Mitchell gave him an almost shy look. “Yeah, he did.”

Daniel didn’t reply, telling himself not to rise to the bait. When they reached the elevator and stepped inside, he pressed the 18 button.

“You’re going home, Jackson, not to your office.”

“Yes,” Daniel drawled, “but I have some work to pick up. If you think I’m sitting at home unpacking for the next three days, you don’t know me as well as you thought.”

“That’s probably true,” Mitchell said, suddenly more subdued. “Sam told me you work 24/7.”

“That’s funny, since she’s worse than I am.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Mitchell said as the doors opened and they got out.

Daniel looked at him. “Still trying for that lunch rain check?”

“Yup.”

Daniel ceased the conversation until they were inside his office and out of prying ears. “You uh, sound as if there’s more to it,” he said carefully as he placed some disc cases into his satchel.

“More to it?” Mitchell asked, eyes wide, then he laughed nervously and held up a hand. “No, no, Jackson, not anywhere I want to go. And she’s off-limits.”

Daniel had wondered how effectively Sam’s little hint dropping about a ‘boyfriend’ had churned up the rumor mill, but he had a feeling Mitchell wasn’t referring to that. “Yeah, well, don’t believe everything you hear, Mitchell. Take a risk and ask.”

Mitchell shook his head. “No, not what I meant.”

Daniel snorted as he zipped up the satchel. “Don’t tell me you don’t break the rules.”

“I break them plenty, just not there. Don’t get me wrong. She’s a beautiful woman, but she’s also not my type. And she’s part of SG-1. No huntin’ in your own hen house, as my gramma used to say, know what I mean?”

Daniel snickered, shaking his head as Mitchell grinned at him. He also decided to leave that one alone, too, reminding himself about the homophobia subject and that this conversation could easily go there. They went down to the locker room and Daniel stepped into the dressing-room part of his locker so he could change in private. All the while, Mitchell kept up a running monologue of amusing anecdotes and Daniel wondered if he was embarrassed or nervous about waiting in silence.

Finished, he grabbed his keys and slung his jacket over his arm. “Ready.”

“Cool. And… we got that stop to make.”

“What are you up to?”

“Nothing… exactly,” Mitchell said, pretending offense. “You’ll see. It’s a morale booster.”

“I wasn’t aware my morale needed boosting.”

Mitchell laughed. “No, ours, and it’s something that should’ve happened to you a long time ago, I think, but better late than never.”

“God, I’m gonna regret this, aren’t I?”

“Nah, piece a’ cake.”

In the elevator, dread filled Daniel when Mitchell hit the button for Level 13. The floor for the main recreation room. When the car stopped and the doors opened, Daniel didn’t want to get out.

“C’mon, Jackson.”

“What’ve you done?”

Mitchell only smiled wickedly. “You’ll see, c’mon.”

They went through two corridors and stopped halfway down the third, turning right into a dead-end that beheld a pair of double doors. Above the doors was a sign that said Rec Room 1. Mitchell opened the right door for Daniel and gestured him inside.

With a deep breath, Daniel stepped inside. Faces turned toward him and grins appeared as well as hails. Daniel waved back nervously. What the hell were they grinning about?

“Come to see the artwork, Daniel?” asked Sergeant McCall, one of the Control Room technicians.

“I’m sorry?” Daniel asked.

McCall pointed to Daniel’s left, where the room opened up several yards more. The kitchenette was along the back wall, along with the soda and snack machines, but Daniel didn’t see them as he froze, staring at the left wall just before it met counter space.

“Oh. My. God.”

From floor to ceiling, perhaps 14 feet, was a seven-foot wide poster of Daniel and Mitchell, dressed in those outfits Daniel had coined Undercover Rawhide. At the time, Daniel had paid little attention when someone had snapped a camera in the gateroom. It seemed as if he should have. On the poster, above his and Mitchell’s heads, were the words, “Blazing Saddles.”

Daniel fought down the blush even as he felt a laugh begin. It really was funny. And something these folks obviously needed to ease their stress. What the hell. “Very funny,” he said expectantly, getting laughs and titters from around the room. “So… whose wise-ass idea was this?”

No one copped responsibility but Daniel had a feeling Mitchell put them up to it. He stared at the man, then gestured between them. “Come at me with a camera anywhere near the showers and you’ll find out just how much Teal’c’s taught me.”

Mitchell gave him a look of surprised respect as he followed Daniel out of the Rec Room. “You serious?” Mitchell asked.

“About what? Kicking your ass? Yes.”

“No,” Mitchell said, laughing and waving that thought away.

Daniel frowned at him, wondering if Mitchell thought it unlikely that Daniel could attack him or would. He hoped it was the latter.

“No, I mean about learning from Teal’c.”

“I’ve learned from him over the years, if that’s what you mean. I didn’t just spend time meditating.”

“Huh,” Mitchell replied.

“Is it that surprising?” Daniel asked, feeling rather prickly about it all of sudden. Then a wave of nausea hit him right before the dizziness. He stopped and placed a hand on the wall, bending over to wait for it to pass. Mitchell laid a hand on his back.

“Y’okay?”

“Fine, just waiting it out.”

Mitchell’s only answer was to rub his back. Daniel sighed, deciding to distract himself from this stupid dizziness. “So, what’s so surprising about Teal’c having taught me some of his martial arts?”

“Nothing,” Mitchell answered.

Daniel suddenly wondered if maybe Mitchell had asked and Teal’c had said no. “Wait for him to get to you know you,” he said, standing straight up. “Then he’ll teach you.” When Mitchell raised his brows at him, Daniel grinned. “Didn’t Jack warn you about me being able to guess really well?”

“Not hard to do when you figure things out as fast as you do.”

Daniel blinked at him. “Wow, you really have been paying attention.”

Suddenly Mitchell grinned widely. “That’s how I knew how you’d react to that poster. If I thought for a minute you’d belt me one, I’d never have shown you.”

It was Daniel’s turn to say, “Huh.”

Back in the elevator, Mitchell seemed to forget about it anyway and instead regaled Daniel with the tale of how much trouble they’d gone to in order to get a poster made big enough for the rec room. “But it was well worth it in the end,” he said grinning ear to ear, “to see the look on your face.”

Daniel could only smirk and shake his head, remaining silent as they transferred elevators and rode up to the garage. “I hear it’s your birthday soon,” Mitchell said when the doors opened.

“Don’t you dare–“

“If we’re on-world on July 8th, I’m taking you out to get shit-faced.”

Daniel groaned. Anything was possible when he was shit-faced. And it meant he had to find a way to be working on his birthday. “We’ll see, Mitchell.”

Mitchell grinned back like he’d won the lottery. “You won’t regret it, I promise.” He then pointed behind Daniel. “And now, your chariot awaits.”

Daniel looked behind him, saw the duty car running, the driver standing next to it, throwing him a casual, good-natured salute. Daniel was puzzled till he remembered he wasn’t allowed to drive.

“Right,” he said, sighing and heading for the car. “Thanks. And give me a call if something comes up.”

“Will do.”

When Daniel got in the passenger seat–hating the thought of sitting in the back seat like a police perp–Mitchell yelled out something. “What?” Daniel yelled back. Mitchell repeated it, then smirked and went back inside. “Sergeant, what did he say?”

“He said you have a surprise at home, too.”

Daniel stared at the Sergeant, then slumped, his head dropping on the back of the seat. A surprise at home. Mitchell didn’t have a key–unless he’d made a copy when Daniel was laid up in the infirmary. 

. . 

When the Sergeant drove up in front of his apartment quad, Daniel caught movement from inside his cottage just as he got out of the vehicle. Thanking the Sergeant for the lift, he started up the walkway, looking around. Sam’s car wasn’t there so it wasn’t her.

Taking a deep breath, Daniel hefted his jacket in his left hand, his satchel in his right, twisting the bag to test the strength of the handle, wishing there were lead weights in his bag. When the door opened, he froze.

“You gonna stand there all day or… what?” Jack asked, looking as illegally handsome as ever.

Daniel’s face bloomed slowly into a bright smile. “Jack.” He hadn’t expected him. At all.

Jack grinned back and walked over, placing a hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “So… I hear you’re officially off the collar. Good man. The only collar I want you wearing is the one I got you.”

They were inside now and Jack shut the door, grinning even more at him.

“Excuse me?” Daniel asked, still back on ‘collar,’ but his eyes were on Jack’s lips.

“You know, that invisible one. The only one that counts.”

“Oh, that one,” Daniel replied as he dropped everything and grabbed Jack for a long, passionate kiss. His arms went automatically around him and when Jack returned the favor, Daniel growled into his throat. When Jack returned that, too, Daniel smiled through the kiss.

A minute or so later, he pulled back, breathing quickly, staring into Jack’s eyes as he struggled to think. “Hell–” he began but Jack didn’t let him finish, taking his mouth back.

Daniel felt cool air hitting his abdomen along with warm skin as Jack slid a hand up his shirt, months apart tearing through any remaining patience. Kicking off his shoes, Daniel pulled Jack’s shirt loose and went for the buttons. Pants were next and as he busied himself with kissing Jack’s throat and shoulder, breathing in his musky scent, Daniel caught a whiff of food. Grinning as they stumbled their way down to his bedroom, he asked, “Been making yourself at home?”

“You bet,” Jack murmured, pushing down his trousers, leaving them at the threshold as he stepped out of them.

Daniel moved toward the bed, eyes on Jack like a starved voyeur. He stripped off his clothes and after setting his glasses on the table, crawled onto the bed. Turning onto his back, he inched toward the center, his expression daring Jack to come after him. As Jack stared down at him, cock hard but not hard enough, Daniel stroked his own, teasing him.

Throwing off the remainder of his own clothes, Jack growled, “Mine,” and dove after Daniel, intent on having that piece of him in his mouth. But Daniel had other ideas and cut him off, sitting up quickly and throwing him onto his back, mouth on his belly, moving quickly onto his dick.

“Daniel,” Jack exclaimed, breath catching as he held the back of Daniel’s head with absolutely no intention of fighting him off.

Daniel moaned around him, sucking hungrily, one hand caressing Jack’s chest, the other massaging his balls. Backing off, he whispered, “Too long,” before attacking that long, thick cock responding wonderfully to his attention.

“God, damn right,” Jack gasped as he placed both hands on Daniel’s head, then pulled him off. “Too long. We’ll do this later. Right now, get up here.”

Daniel made a noise deep in his throat as he looked up, mouthing his way over Jack’s body. “What if I want to get you off with a really long blow job?”

Jack grabbed him and pulled him up the rest of the way, then turned them over and kissed him, reaching down with a sneaky hand to get hold of Daniel’s cock for some teasing strokes. “Do you?” he asked, stroking faster.

“No,” Daniel breathed, then groaned when he remembered where the lube was. “I gotta get up, get the lube.”

“It’s under the pillow,” Jack answered him, grinning smugly as he took a nipple between his teeth.

Daniel felt under his head and with a surprised look of gratitude, popped it open. “Get over here,” he said, rearranging his body, reaching for Jack’s. When Jack knelt in front of him, Daniel’s surprise returned. “Knees?”

“Just fine,” Jack told him as he took the lube and squeezed a dollop onto his fingers, then reached down between them. Daniel sucked in a breath at the touch of the cool gel, but a second later, it warmed to his skin. A second after that, Jack took hold of his cock as he slid two fingers into him.

Daniel breathed in sharply through his nose, then let out a loud gasp as Jack twisted the tantalizing fingers inside him. “Jack, goddamn…”

“Yeah, oh yeah,” Jack grinned, his own cock twitching at the sight and feel and smell. He added a third finger and twisted and pulled back slightly, getting Daniel more than ready. Stroking his cock, manipulating his asshole, he sought out his gland so he could watch Daniel writhe.

The moment Jack found it, Daniel threw his head back and grabbed his balls, gasping, “In me, now.”

Jack grabbed a pillow and shoved it under Daniel’s ass, then hovered over him, lined up, and thrust home.

“Fuck yes!” Daniel cried out as the hard heat filled him. He grabbed the back of his knees, rocking with Jack as he began to thrust. Wave after wave of pleasure swept through him as Jack fucked him, cock running back and forth over his prostate, balls hitting his ass. He threw his head back, indulging in it, in the feel of having Jack inside him again. “God damn, I really have missed you.”

Jack groaned agreement, not able to find words as he watched his lover react to what he did, felt him clutch around his cock. Power and hunger and love gathered up inside him and Jack suddenly felt his orgasm approaching. “No, not yet, oh shit,” but instead of stopping or slowing down, he thrust harder and faster, skin slapping skin.

“Yes,” Daniel gasped, grabbing the pillow under his head, holding on as he spread his legs and reached down to take his cock in hand. He jacked himself rapidly, feeling his balls draw up as the friction of Jack’s cock slowly pulled the climax from his body. “Yes, yes,” he repeated as he shot thickly, come splattering his hand and abdomen.

The sight of it pulled the orgasm from Jack, and he stopped, then thrust hard, once, twice, then again and again, each time shooting into Daniel’s ass. He dropped down over him, kissing him deeply, moaning when Daniel turned them over. “I love you,” he whispered, knowing it was cliche and not caring.

“Backatcha,” Daniel told him, grinning when Jack gave him a look. He kissed him again and settled into his arms. “What’s for dinner?”

Jack snickered. “Let’s get cleaned up and go see.” 

. . 

At the kitchen table, Daniel peppered his second helping of the tortellini bake Jack had made. When Jack raised an eyebrow, he asked, “What?”

“Hungry?”

“Yes. You always manage to make me work up a good appetite.”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t be coy, you know you do.”

Jack took another slice of garlic bread from the warmer and grinned, saying nothing. They ate in companionable silence for the most part, occasionally saying something of no import until Jack brought up his birthday.

“What’re your plans for July 8th?”

“Don’t know,” Daniel said with a mouthful of bread and pasta.

“Assume you won’t be off-world.”

Daniel couldn’t smile so he reflected it in his eyes. Swallowing and following the food with coffee, he said, “Mitchell wants to take me out and get me drunk.”

Jack paused, bread halfway to his mouth. “And?”

“I’m thinking it over.”

Allowing himself to rise to the bait, Jack quickly responded. “You’re a cheap date, Daniel. He’ll have you drunk in no time.”

Daniel knew it wasn’t a ‘date’ but had to say it anyway. “It’s not a date, Jack.”

“Sounds like one to me. What happens when he gets you drunk?”

“He gets drunk.”

“No driving.”

“Okay… um, he doesn’t get drunk. Just gets me drunk.”

“And?” Jack prompted.

“And what?” Daniel leered. “You sound as if you expect him to get me drunk and then screw my brains out.”

Side-stepping the spark of arousal that generated, Jack said, “I thought he was straight.”

“Jack, isn’t that what you’re thinking?” When Jack didn’t answer, Daniel said, “I’m a big boy. Even drunk, I’ll handle Mitchell.” He paused again, then added, “And yeah, I think he’s straight. The only thing I have to worry about is winding up with a tattoo the next morning.”

Jack smiled and said nothing, thinking he should have a talk with Mitchell.

“Jack, don’t even think about it.”

“What?”

“I recognize that look.”

“What look?”

“The ‘I gotta talk to Mitchell soon’ look.”

“I wasn’t thinking of–“

“Forget it,” Daniel suddenly said, knowing this was coming. “I won’t be going anywhere. I’ll be at home on my birthday.”

Jack grinned, mostly in triumph, and knew that Daniel knew. “Okay.”

“Now, why did you ask what I was doing?” Daniel asked.

“I just thought maybe…”

“Maybe what?”

“Maybe you’d like to visit the Blue Door.”

Daniel looked across the table at him, remembering the first time Jack had taken him there. “I’d like that.”

While they were cleaning up, Daniel watched Jack around the kitchen, his eyes on the man’s gorgeous forearms, the way the hair grew. Thought of hair drew his eye to Jack’s t-shirt-covered chest, then down his body to his groin. He was suddenly reminded of what Jack had said the last time they were together. That he’d wanted him tied to his bed. Right now, Daniel didn’t give a shit which one. He wanted Alpha Jack, and to trigger it, he said, “About Mitchell.”

“What about him?”

“Think he’d like the Blue Door?”

Jack eyed him, pursing his lips as he considered Daniel’s question. He rinsed off the dish and set it in the dishwasher, then wiped his hands. “What’re you asking, Daniel?”

“A question,” Daniel told him, perfecting innocence.

Jack narrowed his eyes. “Mitchell’s straight.”

“Yes, he is,” Daniel said, smiling with some victory when Jack stared hard at him, eyes darkening.

“What are you asking then?” Jack said as he walked toward him.

“Nothing,” Daniel said as he backed away, entering the hallway. “Just winding you up.”

“Because?”

“I want more.”

“Yeah?” Jack asked, stalking him now. “I seem to remember something about tying you to my bed.”

Yes, Daniel shouted to himself. “I remember,” he said as he backed down the hall, Jack coming after him. “Jack?”

“What?”

“You wanna fuck him,” he stated, throwing Jack off-guard.

“No,” Jack said, meaning it, but a little watching would be okay. In theory.

“You want me to fuck him?”

Jack paused, then said, “Yes.” He grabbed Daniel’s wrists and turned him around, shoving him onto the bed face down. Placing his hands over his head, Jack pulled down his shorts, easing them over his legs till they were off and on the floor. He spat on his fingers and slid them down Daniel’s cleft. “This the ‘more’ you’re talking about?”

Daniel groaned as he did it again and tried to spread his legs. “Yes.”

“You want him,” Jack told him. Applying more spit, he reached down and slid crossed fingers into Daniel’s ass, twisting and pushing and pulling, manipulating him into a lustful frenzy. “You want him,” he repeated.

“For real, no.”

“For fantasy, yes.”

Daniel was silent, enjoying Jack’s touch, then admitted, “Yes.”

“To fuck you?”

“No, I want my cock up his ass.”

“And me watching?”

“Yes,” Daniel said, closing his eyes.

Jack spat onto his hole, fucking him slowly, teasing him, building him up. “Like this?”

“Yes,” Daniel breathed.

“And this?” Jack asked, pushing harder, rubbing that little gland continuously.

“I want you,” Daniel breathed as the sweet burn filled him. He raised his ass for more, gasping when Jack slipped the tip of his thumb inside.

It was then that Daniel held his breath, the moment standing still for both of them as they both realized what Jack was doing and what Daniel was letting him do.

“Daniel?” Jack asked.

“Do it,” Daniel told him. “And keep me pinned if you can.”

Jack withdrew his hand and grabbed the lube, keeping one hand on Daniel’s wrists. He nearly emptied the bottle of slick gel onto Daniel’s ass as he used it to coat his entire hand. He knew he should have something more, like Crisco or grease, but he had no intention of shoving his arm up there.

The thought of what he was about to do excited him, and it was obviously exciting Daniel. Neither of them would have wanted this a few years ago and he wondered what had changed. Easing his fingers back inside, Daniel drew his knees up and spread them as open as they would go. “God, that’s hot,” Jack murmured, reaching in, finding the nub again before he started to fuck him for a while. When Daniel began to moan continually, Jack returned to taunting about Mitchell. “So, about fucking him.”

“And?” Daniel asked, panting now.

“Why Mitchell?”

“I don’t know…” Daniel said, groaning more loudly into the bed as Jack found a new angle on his prostate.

“Maybe,” Jack thought, suddenly knowing he was right, “it’s because he’s straight. You want him, and that old fantasy about fucking a straight guy…” He twisted his fingers around, forming a cone, pushing in, pulling out, then pushing in some more.

“Yes, I want him,” Daniel moaned, his cockhead driving him crazy as it rubbed on the sheet.

“Doing this maybe?” Jack asked, “or do you want to watch him suck me?”

Daniel groaned and spurted pre-come, wetting the sheet. Jack grinned to himself and thrust just a little harder, quicker, easing in just a bit more before backing off for more fucking.

“Jack, yes,” Daniel groaned into the bed. He wanted this, wanted this so bad. “More, Jack, more.” When Jack slipped his thumb inside, pushing and gently fucking, he said, “Fuck me, yes,” and rolled his eyes back.

Jack complied, moving so slowly, twisting, pushing further in before relaxing, then pushing again. He whispered that he imagined Mitchell getting tied down, writhing and yelling as Daniel fucked him. Daniel contracted around his fingers, moaning for more, and when Jack felt his hand knuckles slipping inside, he grazed the finger knuckles over the prostate.

“Fuck,” Daniel gasped, drooling now, hips bucking lightly.

Awed, Jack grazed it again before carefully making a fist. Daniel breathed into the sheet, drooling even more, whispering, “Yes,” so Jack did it again. He twisted back and forth, going very slowly, caressing the prostate from every direction. When Daniel let out a long, drawn-out moan, pulling his wrists from Jack’s grip, Jack took advantage of the freedom and reached underneath to slowly jack his lover’s cock, matching the rhythm of the other hand.

It was then that Daniel began to shake. Clutching the sheet hard with his hands, he gasped wordlessly as an acute warmth filled his veins. Something inside him snapped and he screamed, “Jack! Fuck, oh fuck!” into the mattress as he emptied his balls.

Jack felt the contractions of Daniel’s muscles around the base of his hand, his wrist, and nearly choked in surprise. The sound and feel of him was more than enough and he couldn’t hold back either. He spilled short jets of come as he reacted to the power of Daniel’s climax, amazed at what he’d done. Before Daniel could tighten around him, Jack slowly withdrew his hand and laid down to gather him in his arms.

“How you doin’?” he asked, but he found Daniel had greyed out. “Oh Jesus.” Jack should’ve been able to tell, given that scream. He rubbed Daniel’s back, and a minute later, his lover jerked awake, then stilled, his face against Jack’s throat.

“Holy shit.”

“Oh yeah,” Jack said, pleased.

“I have never done that.”

“The fisting or the greying out thing.”

Daniel paused, realizing it was both. “Both,” he said aloud.

“Me, either. How’d it feel?” Jack asked, still awed by it.

“Different. Freeing.”

“Freeing?” Jack asked, surprised.

“Only way to explain it. The king of all de-stressors. Seriously, Jack, you gotta try that.”

Jack kissed the top of his head. “If you can manage to get me to open up like that, no problem.”

They both sighed and laid there, content to hold each other and do nothing. Then Daniel said, “It’s hot to think about Mitchell, you know, but I don’t really want him.”

Jack grinned and squeezed him. “I know. And we don’t want to know if he’s really straight, do we? Takes all the fun out of it.” He started to snicker and Daniel joined him.

As they started to drift off, Jack decided to get out one more tease, mumbling, “Mitchell mailed me a copy of that poster.”

Daniel slowly turned around and sat up. “He what?” Jack grinned like the Cheshire Cat. Daniel pursed his lips, staring down at him. “And you did what with it?”

“Guess.”

“You had better be jerking off to my image, Jack.”

“Now, now, don’t go hypocritical on me.” Daniel grimaced. “Ah huh. What did you just tell me?” Jack reminded him.

“He’s hot to think about, but I wouldn’t really do him,” Daniel answered.

“There ya go, now c’mere.” Jack pulled him back down and spooned Daniel in front of him, kissing his neck when he had him where he wanted.

Daniel settled in, the stretched muscles of his ass telling him that while Mitchell made for great fantasy material, the one who held his heart as well as his body lay directly behind him.

~

End

Joy's Fiction Stargate SG-1 Slash Fanfiction

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