Just Say It

by The Grrrl

Title: Just Say It

Author: The Grrrl

Author's email: thegrrrl2002@gmail.com

Author's URL: http://thegrrrl2002.slashcity.org/

Archive: Ask first.

Fandom: Stargate SG-1

Pairing: Jack/Daniel

Rating: NC-17

Spoilers: Season 7, Season 8

Notes: A teeny, tiny little ficlet inspired by the spoilers and discussion for Season 7's 7.21, 7.22 "The Lost City Parts 1 and 2," and Season 8. Unbeta'd, so all the mistakes are mine, and mine alone.

Warnings: Don't read if you don't want to be spoiled for 7.21 "Lost City," or Season 8! (Maybe.)

Summary: Jack needs to hear Daniel say the words.

"Say it, Daniel," I demand, grabbing onto his arm for balance as he shoves me into the livingroom. I'm more than happy to let him push me around, though, especially when he's looking so damn pretty in that suit. "Say it."

He's fingering the metals on my chest, looking thoughtful, then pushes the unbuttoned Class A jacket off my shoulders. "Nope," he tells me, just before he grabs my head and kisses me, his mouth hot and wet and demanding.

"Yes," I gasp when he releases my lips. I slide his glasses off and toss them on the side table, then kiss him again. His lips are so sweet. My sexy designated driver tastes like coffee. I know I must taste like beer, and lots of it. But he happily sticks his amazing tongue into my mouth and tastes me again. The things he can do with that nimble tongue, oh momma. But I know what I want him to use it for right now.

"Say it. Say it. Say it." I chant as he snorts and pushes me down onto the couch. I pull his suit jacket off as I go down, and he shrugs his shoulders to help it along, pulling his arms free. "Say it."

"No, no, no." The cushions dip around me as he straddles my lap, one knee on either side. "No," he says again, kicking off his shoes.

His shiny dress shoes, that is, exposing his feet, which I see are clad in fancy gold-toe dress socks. Sweet. My fingers fumble with the knot of his blue silk tie. So fucking GQ. I love it. "Yes," I insist.

His hands head for my tie. "No."

The ties finally get untied and come off. I take his in both my hands, flip it over his head and use it to pull his face down to mine. Our noses bump, our lips touch. I slur right up against them, "C'mon, Danny you know you want to." His big blue eyes are extra big up close like this and I swear he can see right into my brain. I feel a puff of air against my mouth as his lips pull back and he's laughing again.

"No, you want me to," he informs me. "That's different." He pushes forward, grinding his hips into my lap, his hands on my shoulders. "Believe me, I know how your twisted little mind works."

Hah. So he can see right into my brain. Poor guy.

He wriggles around in my lap some more and it just takes my breath away. When he groans and arches his back I get a faceful of his pretty white dress shirt, so I zero in on a nipple and bite it right through the cotton. I'm rewarded with a gasp, his chest heaving and I have to wrap my arms around his waist to hold him steady as he writhes.

"Face it, you love me for my twisted little mind," I growl as I mouth his nipple some more, making a big wet spot on his pristine shirt.

He just moans and kisses the top of my head, fingers twisting in my hair. I interpret that as a yes, he really does love me for my mind, twisted and dirty and nasty as it is.

"So then say it. Just once. I'm beggin' here, " I plead. My hands slide down his back and onto his tight little ass, which is still very much in motion.

He scooches against my hands, leaning back to look me in the eye. "And that's supposed to change my mind how?" he asks, unbuttoning his shirt.

"You seem to like it when I beg," I counter distractedly, as his smooth skinned chest is slowly exposed. He's smiling now, because he knows I'm losing focus, the bastard. And how can I not—he's such a god damn hot and horny little lapful. My cock has taken notice of this, too, sitting up and doing a little begging itself.

He eyes the bulge in my pants, licking his lips. "I do love it when you beg," he agrees. He reaches down, but it's to his own crotch, though, and begins to undo the fastening on his fancy GQ pants. My hand instinctively slides around to help him out, and there's a whole lot of unzipping and tugging, him wiggling his hips around breathtakingly, and finally his red-hot dick is in my hand and very happy to see me.

"So then say it. Please. Please. Please." I squeeze his cock, and it surges in response. "I beg of you."

Daniel's brows flit upward. "That's not bad, Jack." He starts to unbutton my shirt. "Try it again."

I'm on a roll now. "I implore you. I beseech you. Please, Daniel, love of my life, say it, just once," I say to him, stroking his cock reverently.

He's trying hard not to laugh, but I can tell by the look in his eyes that I've got him now. "Okay, okay," he tells me. His hands slide over my chest, up my neck, cupping my face. "General."

"Oooh," I moan. Yeah that's good. Real good.

He says it again, batting his eyes at me. "General O'Neill." He's sweet and sexy as sin in his open white dress shirt, hanging half off his shoulders, his pants unzipped, dick waving in the breeze. Then in a sultry, breathy, little voice, he channels Marilyn Monroe and croons, "Brigadier. General. Jonathan. Oooooooh—Neill." He accentuates the last part with a twist of his hips, right up against my cock.

"Yes!" I shout triumphantly. He's so fucking beautiful. I hug him close, and we fall sideways, laughing so hard we end up rolling off the couch onto the floor. "Yes!" I cry out again. He's on his back, still shaking with laughter, and I've landed with myface in his stomach. So I slither on down, find his cock, and suck it right into my mouth. His hips lift up off the floor and I hear, "Ooooh, Geeeeneral."

Beautiful. Just beautiful. I think I'm gonna love this promotion.

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