When Daniel left Teal'c's quarters, Jack was waiting for him, hovering at the end of the corridor like a bee trapped against glass.
"Jack," he said, as neutrally as possible, trying to get past him.
The corridor shrank. Jack could take up a lot of space when he wanted to. "What do you do in there?"
Daniel executed a neat two-step and charge that at least meant he was moving forward, even if Jack was walking with him, matching him step for step. "With Teal'c? Oh, little bit of human sacrifice, the odd Flintstones marathon… you know; the usual." He shook his head in exasperation as Jack seemed to be giving his answer more thought than it deserved. "We meditate. It's restful, and even if he doesn't need it now, I think Teal'c would miss it. I get a lot out of it. I won't bore you with any more detail than that."
"I did it once, you know." Jack sounded almost hurt.
"What? Oh… then." Daniel paused at the elevator and pressed the call button. "When you were in his body and it was that or get sick. I'm guessing that was the one and only time, am I right?"
"Staring at my navel only makes me think I need to ease up on the donuts."
"As I thought." The elevator door slid open and Daniel stepped inside, Jack at his heels. "Up? Down?"
"Whichever one I say, you'll pick the opposite. You press the button."
"Up," Daniel said. "I'm going home. Want to get out?"
"No, I'm done for the night, too."
"So you decided to take up a hobby?"
"Hmm?" Jack developed a look of absorbed concentration, frowning severely at a spot of what looked like pie filling on his T-shirt.
"Following me? Me and my shadow?"
"I'm not following you, Daniel. You're just going where I am."
"Then why is where I am, where you are, too?"
Jack looked pained. "Please. Been a long day. If you can't say anything that makes sense, shut the hell up."
Daniel shrugged and fell silent, a silence that continued, growing heavier by the minute, until they'd both changed, signed out, and were on the surface. Jack's truck was a row closer than Daniel's car and Daniel paused, intending to say goodnight, less out of politeness than curiosity as to Jack's reaction.
Jack checked his watch as soon as Daniel spoke and looked pleased. "Fourteen minutes," he announced.
"Since you said something?" Daniel guessed. "So?"
Jack's eyes clouded. "Teal'c said I couldn't join you in your little sessions --"
"God, I should think not!"
"Thanks, Daniel. He said it was because I couldn't keep quiet -- or still -- for long enough." Daniel got a malicious smile. "Said you'd only just learned to keep your butt in one place."
"Teal'c did not say that."
"I translated it into English. And I guess I proved him wrong." Jack nodded, looking satisfied. "Night, Daniel. See you tomorr--"
"That proved nothing." It came out sounding a little terser than Daniel had intended, but Jack just wasn't going to get away with that. "We meditate for an hour or more."
"How long was it tonight?"
"What?" Daniel frowned. "I don't know exactly. An hour sounds about right."
"You were in there for ninety minutes. What did you do the other thirty?"
"We -- what?" Taking his keys out, Daniel stared at Jack for a long moment, noting the stubborn flush across Jack's cheekbones. War paint. "Jack?" he threw back over his shoulder as he walked away. "Go and meditate over a beer about what an asshole you are."
A hand on his shoulder halted him, but he refused to look around.
"I can do it," Jack insisted. "Let me show you."
Daniel turned then. "What the hell is going on?" he asked quietly. "This isn't like you."
"I don't like you doing stuff like that when I'm not around."
"'Stuff ' being relaxing my body and mind and dumping some of the tension that builds up? You make it sound like I'm doing drugs. And Teal'c's perfectly capable of making sure I don't bang my head if I pass out."
"If you pass out?" Jack's eyebrows snapped together. "Does that happen often, Daniel?"
"No, it doesn't happen at all. It was an example, that's all."
"A bad one."
"Maybe. Jack --"
"I want to be there."
"Well, you can't," Daniel snapped, losing patience. "It's just Teal'c and me. There's no room --"
"Then do it with me."
"You don't know how." Daniel rubbed his forehead. "My headache's back. It was better, and now it's back."
"You had a headache?"
"Yes, I had a headache. The meditating helped, and you didn't. Happy now?"
Daniel stalked off, each footstep jarring a stab of pain through his head. Damn Jack and his possessive, caring brand of bullshit.
The knock at his door was as familiar as words would have been. Only Jack used the beat of his knuckles on wood as a signature tune.
Daniel didn't even consider refusing to answer; he'd been expecting the visit, anyway. His headache wasn't much better, but his flash of bad temper had died away. It was just Jack. If he allowed himself to get angry at Jack for being Jack, he'd never be anything but furious.
He opened the door, met Jack's inquiring gaze with a resigned sigh, and stepped aside.
"Well, that's something." Jack walked in, dropping his usual peace offering of a bottle of wine on the first flat surface he came to. Daniel had never quite figured out how Jack chose them; it wasn't anything as mundane as the first shelf he came to; Daniel had gone to the store Jack used the day after Jack had arrived with a fifty dollar bottle of Australian red to go with the cheeseburgers he'd picked up, and spent fifteen minutes trailing around the store before he found the right rack. The next time it'd been a sweet, light, tongue-furring German white marked down to five dollars. Maybe Jack went for the label; this one had a classy gold on black design that reminded Daniel of a frieze he'd admired on a planet once… maybe. Or had he just seen a photograph of it once? He didn't try to force the memory; not when Jack was waiting patiently for an answer.
"What? What's something?"
"You let me in."
"It was easier. You won't stay long." Daniel got Jack a beer and took the cap from Jack before he lobbed it in the direction of the trash and inevitably, deliberately, missed. "I'll annoy you, and you'll walk out."
"Probably. Possibly. Maybe."
"Pick one," Daniel suggested, smiling despite himself.
They settled on the couch, at opposite ends, Jack half turned towards Daniel, Daniel lounging back, one foot tucked under him. His couch, dammit.
"So what were you trying to say in the parking lot?" Jack didn't answer so Daniel straightened his leg and kicked Jack's thigh. Gently. A friendly kick. As hard a gentle, friendly kick as he thought he could get away with."Tell me."
Jack leaned back, staring up at the ceiling before closing his eyes. "You've remembered things when you've done that meditating, haven't you?"
"Useful things. We saved Bra'tac, Rya'c."
"Suppose you remembered something else when you were with Teal'c."
It was part of his job to spend hours -- many, many hours -- coaxing information from obdurately silent stone. Telling himself that this was good practice, Daniel asked patiently, "Such as?"
"Something I don't want you to. Not when I'm not there."
"That was… almost a direct answer, but I'm still completely confused." That wasn't true, but it was close enough to sound convincing. Daniel leaned forward. "Jack, you're worrying me."
"Not scaring you?" Jack jerked his head around, the lines of his mouth tight and pinched. "Just worrying?"
"You're annoying me. You're underfoot, you're… well, if it wasn't you, I'd say you were clingy. Even possessive. Today it was as if you were jealous of Teal'c, ridiculous though that sounds."
"Of Teal'c?" Jack shook his head dismissively. "No. I trust him. Completely."
"To look after me? If I hurt myself?" Daniel was sure that wasn't Jack had meant. Easier to pretend it was, though. "Well, so do I, even if I don't think it would ever happen while we were meditating. It's not exactly high-risk --"
"I trust him not to say anything if you let something spill," Jack clarified. "I just don't want him to be there when it happens. It should be me. I'd know what to do."
"This could take a long time, couldn't it?" Daniel murmured, losing interest in teasing what he wanted out of Jack. God, for someone who didn't let Sam get more than three sentences out without snapping at her to make it simple and fast... "And I was planning on an early night." He stood, walked behind the couch, and then turned, knelt, and wrapped his arm around Jack's throat in a move Jack had shown him, and Teal'c had taught him. Teal'c's was the R-rated version.
He eased the pressure a second after applying the lock, but kept his arm in place. "The new, descended Daniel," he said lightly into Jack's ear. "I think I left my patience behind with my clothes. Tell me what you don't want me remembering unless you're there. Something I did? Something I did wrong?"
"Yes. No." Jack's voice was a furious croak. "Let go…"
"You could break this if you wanted to. Could break my arm, even. I think you wanted me to make it easy for you to tell me. Take away your choice. We can pretend that I have, if you like."
Jack stayed too still. He should have been fighting, automatically reacting to a threat. Daniel felt vaguely insulted that Jack's hands hadn't, apart from one, small, startled jerk, left his lap.
"Can't talk if I can't breathe," Jack rasped out. "Back off."
Daniel took all the force out of the lock but left his forearm across Jack's throat, shifting it down a little and curling his fingers around Jack's shoulder in a parody of a hug. "Better?"
Jack cleared his throat experimentally and brought his hand up to touch it, meeting Daniel's arm instead. "Do you mind?"
"Yes. I'm staying like this. You're okay. There won't be any bruising. Talk."
Unexpectedly, Jack's fingers stroked across Daniel's arm, across rolled-back sleeve, bare skin, and the bent, crooked fingers. It was like being brushed by the tail of a cat; incidental, impersonal, and yet still soft, still sensual. Daniel shivered pleasurably, his fingers flexing, and Jack sighed, a slow susurration, enlightened by the shiver. "You remembered already, didn't you?"
"That first night back on base," Daniel agreed. "With Teal'c's help."
"Yes, we did, didn't we?" Daniel pulled his arm back until his palm was cupping the pulse in Jack's neck, feeling the beat of it, strong and fast. "Spectacularly bad timing, wouldn't you say? Fucking for the first time the night before I went and got myself killed. How many other nights were there we could have picked? Ever count them up? Ever wish you hadn't waited so long?"
"Why not, Jack?" Daniel kept his tone reasonable. "You clearly wanted me to remember, and I have."
"Didn't feel like sharing? You've been back weeks, Daniel…"
"And if you'd given me any indication you wanted to pick up where we left off, I would have." Daniel brushed his hand down over Jack's chest, his fingers catching on every button, jolting over them, bump, bump, bump, until his arm was straight, and his fingertips were against the cool metal of Jack's belt buckle.
The back of the couch was digging into his chest, and his knees were protesting. No rug. Just bare wood to kneel on. And Jack's shoulder, bony and stiff, hunched up and grinding into Daniel's armpit.
Not comfortable at all.
But Jack's ear was twitching, tickled every time Daniel exhaled, and Jack's hair was close enough to count the strands of, should Daniel wish it, and he could hear Jack swallow, follow the jerk and dip of his Adam's apple, see the glisten left as Jack's tongue flicked out to wet his lips…
Daniel wasn't going anywhere.
"Pick up?" Jack's eyes closed. His eyelashes were long. Daniel didn't think he'd ever noticed that before, but here, this close, at this angle, he could see them clearly. Long. Dark. Thick. "Okay, you don't remember."
"Jack…" And they were back in the act, a two-man team, vaudeville at its finest, and Daniel didn't want that to happen. "I knew when, remember?"
"You remember some. Okay." Jack nodded, a measured dip of his head, his eyes open again, staring straight ahead. "If you think there's a chance in hell of … picking up, then you don't remember much."
"I do…" But he wasn't sure now. Fuck Jack. Fuck him for making him doubt himself. He scrabbled for the memories. "I came over to your house… You were ready, you knew. We'd been needing it, something, after Reese. You said… said…"
"'We're going to fight or fuck; which one will leave most bruises?'" Jack supplied, the words hanging, shining, in Daniel's mind.
"And I said --"
"It doesn't matter what you said." Jack's voice was hard and his fingers had spread out on his thigh, flexing in an off-beat rhythm. "We fucked. Tried to. And it was a disaster."
Jack smiled, a lemon-ice twist to his mouth. "Oh, nothing slapstick. No bumped noses, no one tripped getting out of their pants…"
"No one called on the phone, knocked at the door --"
"No one to blame but --"
"It was good"
"We weren't too drunk; we weren't sober --"
"You liked it, you wanted it…"
"We got hard, we both came…"
"See? Yes. Yes, we did, we…"
"Just in different rooms when we did it."
Jack's hand moved, captured Daniel's, held it tight. "Stay still, Daniel. Relax. Remember."
Daniel felt himself panic. "I don't want to."
Jack's fingers were warm, strong, stroking over Daniel's wrist, where he could feel his blood thrumming, hurting.
"Sshh. It's all right." Jack's voice was gentle now. "I'll wait for you to catch up."
Daniel let his head sink down against the leather of the couch. It was cool and smooth and he wanted to bite it because it felt like skin. "What happens then?"
"I don't know." Jack shrugged, patting Daniel's hand. It wasn't as comforting as it was supposed to be. Felt more like being rapped on the knuckles. "We could try again, I guess. No way it could suck any worse than it did last time."
"You don't want to."
"I don't?" Jack separated out Daniel's middle finger, the longest one, the nail ragged because Daniel had been picking at labels, stuck onto the bottom of a set of new wine glasses. He'd been expecting Jack, after all, and last time they'd drunk red wine out of narrow glasses, and that wasn't right. "Relax. Do your Teal'c thing."
Kneeling on wood? Arm aching and stretched, body contorted? Relax? Meditate?
The pad of Jack's thumb tested the edge of the serrated nail, scraping over it, a judder and scratch that shouldn't have echoed down every ridge and bump of Daniel's spine but did anyway, the borrowed sensation ending abruptly in the vestigial point of bone at the top of his ass.
Pooling there, melting and spreading, as Jack lifted Daniel's hand up casually, easily, and licked the finger into his mouth.
Daniel's mouth hung open, empty but for spit and unspoken words. It hadn't worked? He was close to coming from a touch and a lick and it hadn't fucking worked the last time?
Jack's mouth was promising Daniel's dick all sorts of things, unless he had a finger fetish Daniel didn't know about, which could be the case. Maybe Jack had wanted to do something outrageous, something Daniel had shied away from, embarrassed, repulsed…
He tried to think of anything Jack was likely to ask for that he wouldn't have agreed to eagerly, and came up dry. Jack wasn't going to be all that complicated in bed. What he was doing now was more imaginative than Daniel had expected.
"Stop it." His voice was husky. He hadn't known it would be. "Jack, I can't remember. I can't. Tell me. Please?"
Jack spat out Daniel's finger, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and stood. "Okay. Stop me when it starts to get familiar. And get up, will you?"
Daniel pulled himself to his feet, walked around the couch, and sat down again. "Only if you sit down."
"Sit. Right. I can sit." Jack sounded pissed at him, but he did it, and they were back where they'd started. Daniel's mouth was dry and he could hear the seashell rush in his ears that he got when they were under fire. "You don't remember jerking off in my bathroom, giving me a running commentary, which, by the way, wasn't what got me off, thanks, and then slamming out of my house?"
An image of his left hand, splayed flat against the bathroom tiles, bracing himself while his other hand worked his half-hard dick… "I didn't come."
"Could've fooled me."
"No." The humiliation of that particular failure hit him full force. "God, no."
"Well, I did."
"I know. I could smell it when I came out." And his dick had twitched, too little, too late, and he'd had the reek and tang of Jack's come accompanying every breath for the drive home, clinging to him as persistently as the smell of Jack's ass on his fingers.
The remembered shamed distaste must have shown on his face because Jack smiled, thin and sharp. "Throw up again when you got home, did you?"
"I don't remember." Daniel went from desperate to coldly furious. "There were… some of it didn't do anything for me. I wasn't ready…"
"I wasn't ready," Jack corrected him. "But you didn't care about that. Just went rushing in, like fucking always. Daniel knows best."
"I hurt you."
"Two fingers dry'll do it every time." Jack pursed up his lips. "You always were the optimistic type."
"I didn't know…"
"You wouldn't listen," Jack corrected him. "Wouldn't wait."
"We'd waited so long." Even to him it sounded like a whine.
"I'm still waiting for an apology."
"I didn't --?" Jack's head shake said it all. "Oh. Well, I'm sorry. Really. For everything." He could remember it now. Kissing, stripping each other, Jack laughing, fending him off, trying to make it slow, make it good, his smile fading as Daniel got insistent, pushy, frantic, hiding nerves and doing it well enough to fool Jack that he knew what he wanted and what he was doing, when neither was true. "For everything," he repeated dismally.
"Good enough," Jack said after a moment. "Forget about it."
"All of it?"
Jack stood. "Yeah. All of it. It's for the best."
"I can't do that."
"I don't want to."
"Try real hard."
Daniel got up and in Jack's face, too familiar a position not to feel right. "Didn't you hear me? I don't want to!" Jack's look was all he needed to remind him. "Fuck. You said that, didn't you? Yes, of course you did."
Jack's body, lean and long, writhing under his hands, trying to escape his grip without hurting him, his voice hoarse, shocked because Daniel had hurt him and he hadn't been expecting it…
Jack's hand came up slowly, touching his face with a sure, warm caress. "It doesn't matter now, Daniel. I could have stopped you; my fault. I just -- you were so -- you wanted to." Jack's hand slid around the back of Daniel's neck, a grip that made Daniel feel like a kitten held by its mother, weak, helpless, and safe. It had always aroused him more than it should do. The first time Jack had done it, a swift, careless squeeze before walking on, he'd been left breathless, gasping, hard, thanking every god who'd ever been worshipped that Sam and Teal'c had left the room and Jack hadn't looked back. Now it turned his legs pliant, ready to kneel.
"I say 'no' to you one hell of a lot; it felt like a good time to let you do it your way."
"It wasn't a good time."
"No, it wasn't. So I guess I'm sorry, too."
Daniel arched his neck, rubbing against Jack's open palm. "Forgiven. Fuck me? Now? Slow as you like, you call all the shots?"
Jack's thumb found the strip of skin under Daniel's ear and taught it to like being stroked. "You didn't like it, Daniel. In theory, yes; the nuts and bolts? Not so much."
Fingers in assholes… yes, that had been… not what he'd expected. Fingers slid into bodies easily in his experience, soft, tender skin, wet and open, yielding… Jack's body had fought, resisted, needed to be forced…no welcome there. And it'd been… messy. Just a little, but enough to make Daniel's nose wrinkle, remembering.
Jack nodded, letting his hand fall, regretful, away. "Yeah. Well."
"I remember. All of it. It was awkward, and I'm cringing, God, I'm blushing --"
"Yeah, you are. Cute. I can't do that anymore."
"I still want to try again."
"Perfectionist." Jack sounded almost affectionate. "Can't stand knowing you fucked-up, can you?"
"It's not that." Jack raised his eyebrows. "It's not just that," Daniel amended.
"Well, I'm not in the mood," Jack said, his voice heavy now. "Christ, Daniel, you make everything so fucking complicated."
"Not me. Not tonight. I want to fuck. That's simple."
Jack grimaced. "Don't say that."
"Make love? Have sex? Be intimate?"
"God." Jack winced.
"Okay, no labels. No words. Just do it."
"Do what, Daniel?"
"Anything you want. Your turn. I got it wrong; you won't."
"You trust me."
"Yes." Daniel nodded.
"You're supposed to learn from your mistakes."
"I am. I didn't listen. Now I am." Daniel wet his lips, tasting nothing but himself. "Tell me what to do."
"So you're pulling a 180 on me? Because last time you were all about giving the orders."
"And it didn't work."
"I didn't mind." The offhand way he said it made Daniel listen.
"You liked it?"
Jack shrugged. "Wouldn't have let you get that far if I didn't."
"You trusted me."
"Always do." Jack sighed. "Mostly do."
"Been there, done that; we're moving on."
"Toward what?" He wanted Jack's hand on his neck again.
"What we had before wasn't working. Something new."
"Does that include awkward, unsatisfactory sex that's so bad I --"
"I didn't. Not because of that." Daniel gaped at him. "How could you think that? I'm used to making an idiot of myself in front of people, dammit. How could you possibly --"
"Okay, forget it, I didn't mean --"
"So I freak out just a little bit, and throw up, and leave you with your ass in the air -- and no, there was nothing intrinsically wrong with your ass, so don't even go there again, okay?-- and I feel so bad, so humiliated I go out and save a planet and die to escape the shame?"
He wasn't listening. Shouting felt so good. So very fucking good. "I would have come back and worked through it. I was planning on coming back. We'd have had this discussion back then if I hadn't died, you better believe we'd have had it! Thought you'd escaped, did you? Thought you were safe? Praying I wouldn't remember? Well, I did! And you didn't even notice!"
"I didn't think you'd get that memory back. Not that one."
"Of course I did." Daniel breathed, quick and choppy, chunks of air, like swallowing ice cubes. "Not the details, no, thanks for those, but the rest… you were part of my life for years. Loving you was something I did every day. How could I forget that? How could I ever forget you?"
"Love…" Jack tested the word out visibly. "You never said you loved me. I'd have remembered that. Said you wanted me. Said you were tired of waiting. Dragged me to the bedroom about a minute later. Sorry I missed the part where that was supposed to clue me in that you loved me."
"People in love have sex." He sounded defensive. And remarkably stupid.
"Sure. People in lust, or just plain horny, do, too. No harm in it. I just wasn't sure that night was anything more than one hell of a long dry spell and a lot of sparks flying."
"Would that have been enough for you?"
"You didn't have to drag me, did you?" Jack smiled painfully. "That too subtle for you, Doctor Jackson? Want me to spell it out? I'd have settled for anything you wanted to give me. Happy to, just to get you smiling again, settled in your skin instead of all fucking nervy and quiet. You were driving me nuts." He considered that. "Still are."
"Well, I love you." Daniel wanted that said. Jack blinked. "I'm in love with you." No reaction. "I want to have your babies."
Okay, that worked. Jack's eyes widened and he almost, nearly, grinned. "I'll cut you a break and pretend I went deaf for that last bit."
Daniel sat down, tired of trying to edge between Jack and the door. If he wanted to leave, Jack was quite capable of walking through Daniel. "It was a joke. Like me."
"Boo-fucking-hoo." Jack's body got between the lamplight and Daniel, looming large and dark. "I love you, too. We can do that. I love Carter and Teal'c, though don't mention it to them, or I'll have to hurt you, and I get by without jumping their bones."
"I want mine jumping."
"Not from what I --"
"Prove it." Jack swayed down to an easy, comfortable crouch, ceding the high ground graciously.
Jack thought about it, his dark eyes distant. "Tell me something I do that gets you hard. Just me. No dreaming about someone else, no fantasizing it air-brushed and pretty like last time. Something I do that gets you off, gets your dick wet and aching."
"God." Daniel swallowed. "Talking like that?"
"No. Something else."
Easy to think of, hard to admit… "Your hand. On the back of my neck. Squeezing just enough that I know it's there."
Jack looked sceptical. "That? I do that all the time."
"I know," Daniel told him, trying desperately to keep the shake out of his voice. "I know you do, Jack."
The smile Jack gave him was pure predator. "Turn around."
"Better if you're not expecting it."
Daniel twisted around on the couch, which didn't work. With 'Oh, God, Oh, God,' chanting in his head, he knelt up on the couch, holding onto the back of it, staring ahead, the nape of his neck exposed because he'd bowed his head just a little.
It felt like he'd been waiting a long time when Jack's hand closed on it, making him yelp softly, his hands clutching convulsively at the leather, his body riding the shockwave.
"Oh…" Jack sounded startled.
Daniel rolled over, getting his legs tangled because Jack was kneeling right there in front of the couch and there was nowhere to put them. Before Jack could say anything else, and he didn't need to, but that didn't usually stop him, Daniel fumbled his zip down, shoving his pants and briefs low enough that Jack could see.
Jack nodded, his gaze locked low, his throat working silently.
"Now do something about it."
It wasn't a command, it was a plea, but it worked. Jack wet his finger in Daniel's mouth, pushing past Daniel's moan and Daniel's parting lips, rubbing it over Daniel's tongue. When it traveled down to stroke lightly through the smear glistening on the tip of Daniel's cock, he moaned again, wishing he hadn't started because he couldn't stop.
Jack settled down, getting comfortable on the floor, pulling Daniel so that his legs were spread wide, his feet on the floor, his ass on the edge of the seat. Arranging him.
"I want to take these off," Daniel whispered, plucking at the bunched, taut fabric of his pants. They were digging in and with his legs spread like this he couldn't work them lower. His dick felt trapped, his balls squeezed.
"I don't think so." Jack smiled, not nicely. "Not yet. No rush."
Daniel flopped back, hips arching, groaning from frustration. "Please?"
"Nothing." Jack licked his finger thoughtfully, tasting God knows what. "You told me to do something about it. Something. It. You suck at giving orders, you know that?"
Daniel didn't think Jack's choice of verb was in any way accidental. "You want precise? Detailed?'
"Might help make sure it goes better this time."
"You know how to suck my fucking dick, Jack; you don't need telling."
"How? No, I don't need telling how. But you didn't say you wanted that. You still haven't. You need to tell me. If you're sure. My mouth. On your dick. You coming down my throat, all messy. Just telling you. Lots of spit. I might choke, even messier. Been a while and I'm out of practice."
"I know what a blow job's like."
"Sure you do, Daniel."
Jack peered up at him. Waiting. His expression mild and patient, his eyes wild.
"Make me come." Jack's mouth opened, and Daniel forestalled him. "Anyway you want. I don't care. Use your hand, your mouth, hell, breathe on it and it'd probably work. I might just come from you staring at it." Daniel forced a smile. "Now, that might get messy."
"I duck fast," Jack assured him, holding back a grin. "And I really don't think you're on that much of a hair-trigger."
"Want to bet?" Daniel said tightly. "Do it."
"I'm looking…" Jack leaned in close. "God, you know, I've never really looked this close at one -- usually it's dark and they're, y'know. Moving. Or I've got my eyes closed."
"You close your eyes when you're going down on someone?"
"Sometimes, yeah. Don't you?"
Screwing the tip of his tongue in circles and short, sweet stabs at Sha're's clit, hearing her mewl, pushing up until his nose and chin were sticky and he couldn't lap fast enough at the thick, soft proof that he was wanted… He tried to summon up a visual and couldn't. "I suppose I do. Did."
"I'll tell you if you do."
The implications of that; that Jack would expect Daniel to do it to him, caught him off-balance. "I -- Jack?"
"You don't have to." There was a cool, tired resignation overlaying every word.
"I want to. I think." Daniel did think. Just for a snatched moment. Jack was no bigger than he was, no wider from what he recalled. He could measure it out, maybe practice on something…
"You're taking this too seriously." Jack shook his head, which, as his mouth was hovering a bare half-inch over the head of Daniel's dick, was an interesting move to make. "Over thinking it. Just don't throw up on me, that's all I ask."
For the second, third, fourth time that night, Daniel lost patience. He lifted his ass and managed to wriggle his pants down a few inches, past his hips, balls and dick blessedly freed in the process. "God, that feels better."
Jack slapped at his hand. "Hey!"
"You were taking too long."
"You said you were about to blow; I was distracting you. Say thank you, Jack."
Jack's mouth lowered to the jut of Daniel's hip bone and spent a long twenty seconds sucking up a mark on it, just where Daniel might, possibly, have bumped into the corner of a desk. Right at the end, when Daniel was panting, open-mouthed, his fingers wound around his belt, he felt Jack's teeth dig in, a bite by anyone's definition.
"Going to come now…" he managed to say, feeling virtuously blameless. What the hell did Jack expect after that?
'The hell you are," Jack snarled.
"Not coming." Jack looked down. "Fuck."
Daniel closed his eyes and felt his hips jerk up into air once and Jack's mouth the second time, scraping over teeth and tongue and more teeth, bumping and graceless and desperate.
There wasn't a third time. Jack's hand wrapped around the base of Daniel's cock, holding it firmly, his other hand smacking down on the nascent bruise on Daniel's hip, grinding against it, and it was Jack who moved up, sank down, over and over, throwing in a lick or a suck in a blurred, snatched grab whenever he could, whenever Daniel whimpered.
Daniel forced his eyes open. Had to see if Jack was looking…
His cock slid between Jack's lips, emerged, deep-red and glistening, was swallowed up again after Jack's tongue had swiped lavish, lasciviously across it. Jack's mouth was a shape he'd never seen it make, a thin line of spit hanging from his lower lip, spun silver, stretched out, breaking as Jack spluttered, his mouth spilling out the come Daniel was pumping into it because that had been too much to take, swallowing what he could, the pull of each gulp drawing out Daniel's orgasm until he was trembling with each weakening pulse of come.
He stopped, spent, and stared down at Jack who was still surrounding Daniel's dick with his mouth, holding it inside him. Gently, carefully, Daniel reached out and wiped the tears off Jack's face, before rubbing his knuckles under Jack's nose, which was a mistake, because snot didn't wipe up as well as tears, but not one he regretted. He traced the shrinking circle of Jack's split lips with a damp fingertip, getting it wetter, and when Jack eased back, his hand covering the soft curl of exhausted flesh protectively, Daniel slid to his knees and kissed Jack's mouth, hungry, avid, eager.
"Better?" Jack asked him, moving up onto the couch with a groan. "God, my back…"
Daniel hauled his pants up and joined him. "Are you fishing?"
"Could be." Jack squinted at him. "You did my ego no good last time, you know."
"Can we never mention that ever again?"
"Can we not mention it again tonight?"
Jack waggled his hand, grimacing. "Iffy."
"Would coming shut you up?"
"Don't let me stand in the way of you finding out for yourself that it won't."
Daniel got up, on legs that were wobbling. "I have no strength in any extremity. Can you drag yourself to my bedroom, please?"
Jack smiled lazily. "I could crawl there," he offered.
"Oh, God, you didn't just say that…"
Jack looked alarmed. "I wasn't serious."
"It doesn't matter. Oh, God, I'm getting hard again."
"So I see." Jack stood and worked a knot out of his spine. "Bedroom. Okay. Lead the way."
Three steps outside his bedroom Jack's hand fell against the nape of Daniel's neck, guiding him, holding him, keeping him safe.
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