Snap Shots 1: It Started with a Shower
Summary: Daniel tells the story of how he began his relationship with the leader of SG-2.
Notes: From another series, The Trinity Universe, Visits. This is a 1st-Person POV, inspired by Jim Butcher’s Dresden Files stories.
I’m not a very strong man, physically, but I hold my own. Add that I’m stubborn and contrary, and I’m practically Superman—in theory, not in fact. When I’m exhausted or weak, some part of me says ‘fuck you’ to the mere thought of giving in or giving up. So trust me when I say that it’s something for me to admit to myself that I felt depressed, bone-tired, and weary.
I’d had enough for one day, although I’d only been in my office for four hours—and on a day off. The infirmary was being remodeled and upgraded and without that back-up, the missions had been put on stand-by. I’d gone into work anyway and very early. By breakfast, I’d been told by General Hammond to go home. I hadn’t really wanted to but to my relief, I’d gotten permission to at least be able to take my work home with me. Janet, our resident CMO, had stopped by before I left my office, trying to push medication on me again. And again, I’d said no. Politely.
Jason—that is, Major Jason Coburn—had stopped by my office to see how I was doing and to echo Hammond’s request. But Jason had a different motive; he was basically my best friend. It was difficult for me to assign that appellation to anyone since I wasn’t really used to having a best friend. Not that I don’t have friends, it’s just … well, they were never all that close. I was, as the saying goes, too married to my work. But, Jason was a close friend, and certainly closer than anyone else. I could never explain why that was. He just … was.
We’d gotten on well together from the very start. We’d met right before Halloween in ’99. I was just getting over a cold so I sounded all clogged up. We—SG-1—had returned from a trip into the past, thanks to the stargate and a solar flare, which Sam said would be checked prior to every gate connection from now on. He’d heard about the stupid stunt the gate pulled and had surprised me by asking how I was. I mean, he’s military, not in my team, so naturally, I don’t get talked to by his sort. Civilian, you see. Not really wanted. But he’d taken the time. Maybe that’s why he was leader material. And why he was leader of SG-2.
He was funny, friendly, handsome, roguish, playful. He liked to play jokes on me, but in that nice way, not the other kind. He was, amazingly, also a staunch defender of my work, never mind my friendship. I could never figure out why, but that’s not to say I didn’t think I deserved his friendship. It was just mysterious. I think my self-esteem didn’t allow me to think of myself as deserving. I mean, I’m not a martyr. When I think of why someone likes me, I’m puzzled because others don’t. Does that make sense? But Jason liking me was mysterious, all the same.
See, career military types don’t usually like me. See above about being military and not getting talked to. See also my being stubborn and contrary. Soldiers, et al, aren’t usually like that, even Jack. So it’s like oil and water when they meet me, and Jack really didn’t like me. Jason is very much military, but he’s more warrior than robot, perhaps a bit more mercenary than blind follower.
Anyway, he’d come to me to tell me to go home, offered spending time with me, too. He’d also threatened to bat me around like a play toy if I didn’t comply. Like a friend would, especially a best friend. So I’d hemmed and hawed and eventually complied. But instead of going straight home, I’d decided to take advantage of the facilities: read, really good shower. The water pressure is a lot harder than at my house—I’ve never made the time to buy that new shower head—and my muscles had taken charge of my brain and decided to indulge themselves. With the weariness, I’d happily given in.
The hot shower in the team locker room felt good and I just stood under the hot water, head down, letting it loosen knots that were tighter than a hangman’s noose. I know I was depressed; I wasn’t into denial, too much. But Janet was wrong to think that drugs were the way to fix it. My depression was environmental, not chemical. I simply needed time to sort things out, get used to the new way of doing my job.
Now, let me explain that. I had adjusted okay, not great. Going from field work to a new planet, and then having all the time in the world to do what I wanted in the temple … well, I spoiled myself. Back home, I went by the rules of whoever the dig leader was. Hours, where to work, etc. On Abydos, I was the leader. I set my own hours, studied what I wanted to study. I had a lot to study, too. It was all amazing stuff.
When Jack came and dragged me back home, to the first home, I didn’t think about digs. I thought about finding my wife. And then over time, my curiosity took over. I couldn’t not be intrigued and I couldn’t keep my mouth shut about Stargate Command being solely about searching for weapons to fight the Goa’uld. I thought, and still think, that they should devote teams to studying all they could about both the Goa’uld and other races, other ideas, other civilizations. When you do that, it impacts how you live, how you adjust, and how you advance. Hell, if it weren’t for …
Uh, I digress. Point is, I was weary, fed up, and disgusted with my team leader. And the loss of that friendship, for whatever reason. My wrist was healed up after that clusterf… anyway, I needed to figure out a new way to do my job. Without his friendship. Without … well, I still had Sam and Teal’c, but they weren’t of any help. I had to do this myself.
This was in my head, running around like a hamster on a wheel as I stood there, hands on the tile wall of the back of the cubicle. My muscles wouldn’t loosen, the more I thought about him, trying to figure out whatever bug crawled up his …
So I pushed him from my mind, concentrating only on relaxing. I could’ve gone to sleep like that. I was that tired. My eyes were closed, my brain on standby. If I hadn’t been so damn drained, I might have been startled when the lights when out. Instead, it was more drowsy acceptance and a prickle of annoyance. I straightened—I’d had my hands against the wall and I’d been bent over, ya know? I stood up and pushed water from my eyes, straining my ears to listen.
“Alright, who’s the wise ass?” I growled. I thought that it was either Jason or some dumbass electrician had stolen power from the locker room. They’d done that before while working elsewhere. Anyway, I started thinking it was more Jason’s doing. I mean, it had to be Jason’s idea of a joke, right? Turn out the lights.
He likes those little jokes, as I said, but sometimes he could push them a bit too far. He worries for me, so he tries to get my mind off things. And though I’d like to smack him for it half the time, I love him for it. He’s my best friend, and yes, I love him. The closest I’ve felt to someone since Shau’re.
I sighed. “Jason, you’re amusing, but turn the lights back on.” A moment passed, then three. No answer. “Jason?” I asked. Still no answer. And I thought, Christ, did we just have a power outage anyway? No, the hot water still worked. Generators? The facility was basically one big emergency system, like NORAD above. All utilities run on separate power, autonomous, and thus on separate generator back-ups, too. Except … that back-up power runs on red light to conserve power. There was no red light.
“Jason? Goddammit, answer me!”
I grew more annoyed because the shower’s balming effect had begun to fade. Shit. I opened my mouth to spit something designed perfectly for a response, but at that moment, the opening of the cubicle door cut off my intended blistering wit. Someone had stepped inside and though I was getting used to the dark, I stepped back—then tensed as the cool tile wall touched my skin. I involuntarily moved forward a bit, but only just.
“Who the …” I began.
When faced with something I can’t see the details of, like say an object in a dark room or a person in the dark, I’ve developed the automatic habit of seeing the person as a whole, including the surrounding space, blurring everything from sharp focus while watching for any twitch, any sign of trouble coming. Jack would like to think he’d honed this ability in me, but the egomaniac would be wrong. I’d honed this particular skill in the jungles of South-eastern Mexico. Not just for the bandits, but for the animals that like to stalk you when you think you’re the one doing the stalking.
It was maybe three or four seconds before I thought I recognized the shape, and as if my mind had concurred, my focus returned to sharp awareness and the dark shape began to form details, shadow and color. It was Jason.
Before I spoke his name, in the form of a question, something strange happened to me. My palms began to ache, then the back of my thighs, my ass, the dip in my hipbones. Part of my mind whispered, you’re going weak at the knees! This bodily reaction had only happened a few times in my life and each time, it was arousal. I’d been taken by surprise by it, every time, and so I hadn’t really known what to do to about it. I’m like that. I examine everything.
This was Jason, though. Confusion welled up in me and I immediately felt awkward. When faced with something awkward or embarrassing or just plain confounding, my first reaction is always dead-pan sarcastic humor and I couldn’t stop it now.
“You lost, Jason?” I asked, even as a lump formed in my throat. There was only one reason he could be there, but I had to deflect it. It couldn’t be what I thought it was. Not Jason. And in my line of work, with who we meet out there, some part of me wondered what was wrong. Did he have the wrong cubicle or something? Yeah, I know. Silly.
And then I thought, was there a sexual energy between us? Us? An ache had settled in my diaphragm. Confusion began a fight with my libido. What the hell was going on?
“Jason?” I asked, more seriously this time.
“I …” Jason began, then he cleared his throat. “I can’t stand by and watch you sink deeper into yourself, Daniel.”
I got even more confused and I was going to ask what in the hell was he talking about, but it died in my throat when he took a short step forward, then reached out and took my right hand. Adrenaline shot through me, and when he placed my hand on his chest, it spiked to an almost painful degree as hormones charged. What the hell was wrong with me? For that matter, him?
“You need to laugh more, be happy,” he said. “I’d like to do that for you, if you’ll let me.”
I couldn’t help the snort. It was a gut reaction because he couldn’t possibly be serious. Yet, he was.
“And you thought …” I began to say, but I couldn’t finish.
First of all, his skin was warm beneath my fingers, and the muscle was firm. I mean, firm. I knew he was beefy … okay, wrong word. Muscular. He was a very healthy man. I sort of envied him that bulk. No matter how many times I worked out in the gym, I couldn’t get that kind of bulk. Genes.
Second, I had no idea how to complete my assumption because this was Jason. My platonic friend. Part of me wanted to start shooting questions, such as why he hadn’t told me his feelings before, or how he knew that I wouldn’t reject him. For that matter, I was asking myself that. Because. I wasn’t about to reject him. No. Way. But still, I was stunned. And as usual, had no damn idea what to do. See above about confusion.
Jason cleared his throat again. “Daniel?” His voice had a sultry sound to it, a sound that sent a shiver down my spine and took up residence in my balls. For a second, I had actually thought that maybe that wasn’t him. Maybe I was dreaming. Since when did he sound like that? But a second after that, I was moving my fingers, spreading them over his skin and pressing firmly across his left pec. It suddenly occurred to me that, holy shit, he was sexy. Heat began to build below my belly.
“Okay,” I said, and my breathing was harsh. I used a tone that was accepting but with a bit of confusion thrown in. I didn’t dare assume, or even start to assume. He’d started it, so he would have to lead. “Now what?” I asked.
Jason let out a sigh that sounded to me like happy relief or amusement, then moved closer and slid a hand over the back of my neck. He pulled me toward his lips. I’d smelled that particular masculine scent of his and watched him tilt his head. Closer, and my mind was losing coherence while my body just … collapsed. He brought our lips together. I froze and didn’t touch him. I was startled by the feel of his lips on mine and I think my hands forgot what to do. Then he opened his mouth and, well, consumed me.
Lust, hot and hungry, slammed through me like a bolt of lightning and my higher brain function just fled. I grabbed his ass and pulled his crotch against mine as I kissed him back. I don’t think I’d ever gotten as hard as I did, but the feel of his body and seeking tongue fed parts of me I hadn’t really known were starving. His cock was hard, and I wondered, ‘Are we going to have sex? In a shower? On base?’
Forbidden. Kinky. And goddammit, hot as hell. Oh hell yes, I growled to myself, and the sound made it into my throat. He growled back, wrapped his arms around me, and held me tight against grinding hips. I couldn’t help but respond in kind and the piercing arousal left me breathless, seeking air.
Then Jason moved his lips off mine and went on an exploration over my skin, touching off zings and tingles, and oh my god, it felt so good. When he began to go lower, down my belly, my mouth fell open in amazement and shock, but I wasn’t about to stop him. Oh, hell no. I was shaking by the time he got to my cock. Panting. I combed my fingers through his wet, black hair. I wavered and leaned against the wall while he hovered there, his mouth an inch away. I felt the heat from his mouth even through the hot water that cascaded over us both. I thrust my hips forward, needing him, and when he took me into his mouth, I breathed his name and gasped.
He sent the most amazing spikes of deliciousness through me and I suddenly began to clench and loosen my backside in time with my mild thrusts. I couldn’t help but do it. I then realized that one of his hands was still on my chest, and the thumb and forefinger were squeezing my nipple. It sent such a zing that I was in danger of climaxing, so I pushed it down. He grabbed my ass and swallowed me. Whole. That sent another shock through me, making my legs quiver.
Jason moaned and cupped by balls, moaned louder, and slid his fingers past them to play and tease my anus. I clenched in reaction, but I released them to let him know I wasn’t refusing. He pushed a finger inside me and the quivering got worse. When he pushed the second one in, the hot burn sent a wild demand through me. I pulled him off me, bringing him to his feet. I kissed him hard and switched places, slamming him into the wall as I took his cock in my hand. Jason grabbed my ass again, clutching me, hard. I rubbed hard against him, my body demanding the feel of his hot skin.
I broke the kiss and sought more of him, biting, and kissing his throat, his collarbone, his chest. I went lower, my mouth salivating, and I bit and licked to his short curls, and for the first time in ages, I tasted the hot, hard swell of a cock. It was like cotton candy and prime rib, sweet and mouth-watering. I sucked him in, swallowing both saliva and flesh, and lingered there, savoring the salt and musk and instant swell of him.
I inhaled deeply, the fingers of my hands caressing his anus and balls, and my lust abruptly grew to hot intensity. Then Jason let out a raspy moan and pulled me up, just as I had done him. I turned us both until my back was against the tiles once more and wrapped my left leg around his hip. The touch of my cock against his belly was agonizingly good, and it only reinforced what I wanted to happen next.
“I want you,” I rasped, and with a growl, he grabbed my hands and pushed them up over my head, his lips seeking my left ear.
“Grab the pipe,” he whispered huskily, and took hold of my thighs.
I did. I began to thrust upward, inviting him in, and closed my eyes at the touch of his cock rubbing over my hole. “Easy,” I whispered a warning, “it’s been a while.”
He growled against my ear. Actually, it was more like a purr. “Slow is almost always best,” he said.
As he pushed the head of his cock past my sphincter, I groaned out, “Almost always?” The skin of my entire body tingled and pulsed as he entered me, then the burn of the invasion made me tighten my hands around the pipe of the shower head. I lifted my knees and invited him into me. I was impatient for the burn to pass into pleasure and thankfully, my body remembered what to do and it didn’t take much longer. He moved in slowly, with short thrusts, in and out, and when he was nearly all inside me, he paused.
“Dammit,” he hissed. “You feel too good.” He drew out the last word.
I turned my head slightly and sought out his lips. Raw need, lust, and love all combined within me and I whispered against his mouth. “Fuck me,” I said, making the vulgarity of it sound like a lover’s caress. He opened his mouth slowly, tongue tasting my lips, and I licked at him, inviting him inside. Jason started to go faster, and the panting of his breath sounded divine. He attacked my tongue and snapped his hips, and the real thrusting began.
I forgot about the water running over us, and where we were. “Fuck!” I growled, breaking the kiss, and gritting my teeth as I raised my knees higher and planted my heels around his waist. It was heaven. The hot feel of him inside me spread pleasure throughout my body and though part of my brain demanded orgasm, the rest demanded that his thrusts would never end. Then Jason’s hands cupped my cheeks and he lifted me, angling for better purchase, and he found my prostate. Shock ripped through me and water ran into my mouth. I was unable to close it. I was panting louder, almost whining, and felt my balls tighten and the smoldering heat spread.
“Jason,” I groaned, and shouted with pleasure as he acknowledged my warning and pistoned into me. Fast. Deep. And oh my god, he was so damn good.
My orgasm hit acutely, blindingly. It had been so long that it was as if my body had been saving up. I just kept coming. The feel of his cock made it last and last. Uncontrollably, I thrust back, fast, rubbing my cock against his belly, shooting my release all over his skin. Then his mouth was on mine again, throat growling and vibrating over my tongue. His orgasm made him buck sharply several times, filling me with warmth. Over the next minute, neither of us stopped moving, but our thrusts slowed to a languid, sleepy pace.
I didn’t want to let go, but I was finally feeling the strain in my shoulders and I dropped my feet to the floor. I pulled him into a hug against me and kissed his neck, his ear, his cheek. Gripping the back of his head, I wanted to say, I Love You, but I held back, my cold rational brain telling me it was too soon and the cautious part of my brain not wanting to hear him tell me this was a one-time thing. And the moment I thought that, I had to ask.
“Is this just a one-off, Jason?”
He kissed me, smiling. “It’s too late for that,” he said softly, “For me. But if it’s what you want …”
The detached logic center of my brain tried to take over, to tell me about how this was a bad idea and it shouldn’t have happened. But now that it had, I couldn’t allow it to continue. There would be huge risk to my job, his job. We’d be violating the regs. I told that part of my brain to shut the hell up.
It was the best decision I had ever made.
Jack drummed a few fingers over the keyboard as he finished reading. He was hard as hell. He looked up when Daniel entered the room and he was tempted to shut the laptop and pretend he hadn’t read anything. But Daniel had left the laptop open. On purpose.
His husband stopped and leaned against the entryway into the dining room. He was snacking on a small bag of chips. And there was a mischievous smirk on his face.
Jack pursed his lips, staring back. “So. You gonna send this in to some porn mag or something? Because I can’t, for the life of me, figure out why you’ve written it the way you’ve written it. You’re talking to … someone.”
Daniel’s smirk turned wolfish. “It’s a letter to Adriann. I thought I’d write up a bunch of personal stuff.”
Jack’s brows went up, then his eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Were you going to tell him about the time we eventually got together?”
Daniel popped another chip into his mouth, turned, and said over his shoulder, “Eventually.”
“You little …” Jack said, and he got up and ran after him. He then set about giving Daniel something new to write about.