The Money Shot

by The Grrrl

Title: The Money Shot

Author: The Grrrl

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Archive: Ask first.

Fandom: Stargate SG-1

Pairing: Jack/Daniel

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Daniel's in DC. He misses Jack.

Notes: In honor of the Masturbation Month. Thank you to  Kylie, for the quick and on-target beta, as always!

"Hi, Jack." Even over a lousy cell phone, Daniel's voice was low and thick, like he was dead tired, or tipsy, or both.

"Hey Daniel," I said, flopping onto the couch with the phone. "What's up? How goes it the diplomacy thing? Having fun?" After a long day sitting in my office slaving over paperwork, the sound of his voice made me stupidly happy.

"Hmmm. Let's see," Daniel sighed. "You tell me. The Russians are feeling put out and are accusing us of withholding information again, the fucking French are accusing the Russians of lying, as if their shit don't smell, and the whiny-assed Chinese have retreated to their corner to sulk and refuse to talk to any of us."

"In other words—"

"Things are the same as ever." Daniel grunted, and sighed again. I could hear rustling, like he was moving around, maybe stretching. "You really should be here."

"Oh, yeah, sounds like a you're having a ball." Crazy thing was, I did wish I were there. I missed him. I was bored, and I didn't have anybody to piss and moan to. I even missed his snoring.

"I mean here, here, not there here, you know?"

Scary thing was, I knew. "I hate it when you make sense even when you don't."

"I know you are, but what am I?"

I blinked. "Daniel, have you been drinking?"

"Uh, yeah." He spoke slowly, lingering over the "yeah." "Had a glass of wine at the reception." More rustling. I wondered what the hell he was doing. "And did you know that they stock tequila in these minibars?"

That explained a lot. "No, I did not."

"Well, they do. In lots of little teeny bottles. Another reason why you should be here. That and the great big Jacuzzi tub thing. We should be in there having fun right now."

"Sounds like one hell of a fancy place." Naked Daniel—all warm, wet, and tipsy. Yeah, I could live with that. He gropes when he's all liquored up.

Daniel made a low, soft sound, deep in his throat. It went right to my balls. "It is a very classy place, but here I am, all by myself on this great big bed. Here—wait—this is how much I miss you."

"Huh?" Not that Daniel makes sense all the time as it is, but I no idea what he was talking about. I wondered just how many teeny empty bottles of tequila were sitting on his night stand.

"Hold on a sec—wait—there. Look at your phone."

"My phone?"

"Yes, Jack. The phone. The thing you're talking into."

"Smartass." But when I pulled the phone away and looked at the screen, I grinned like an idiot. "Very tasty, Daniel, but I don't think that's what the general had in mind when he requisitioned these new picture phones for us."

Frisky son of bitch sent me an image of his dick, of all things. Even on the little screen, it looked big and hard, just the way I like it. Such a pretty shade of red against his pale thigh. A second image came through. In this one, his hand wrapped around the shaft, pulling it back against his stomach, exposing his balls. Well, that explained all the rustling and moving around. Bastard was jerking off as he talked to me.

"I'm sure it's why we have these phones," Daniel said, his voice breathy. "Did I mention that I'm naked?"

My own hand started on a path toward my crotch. "I sort of gathered that."

"What are you wearing? Tell me." He ended his sentence with a low grunt.

"That nice, frilly little number you like so much." I untied my worn, faded bathrobe, spreading it open.

"You mean the little French maid get-up?" asked Daniel. "I like that one."

I could hear the smile in his voice, and it made me feel good. Almost as good as it felt to run my hand over my erection. "That's the one."

"By the way, this room also came with these fancy little bottles of shampoo and lotion. Nice stuff. Right now my cock smells, wait, let me see—like gardenias. And it's silky smooth."

I liked the smell of his cock—without the fancy lotion. And it always felt silky smooth to me. "What do gardenias smell like?" I asked as I thought about touching his skin.

"Actually, kind of stinky and girly. " He grew quiet, and all I could hear was the sound of heavy breathing. I smiled. This was my first very own personalized obscene phone call. Sweet. I missed him more than ever. "So," he finally said, and I knew he was busy stroking himself.

"So." I closed my eyes and lay back, pushing my palm down my cock.

"I've shown you mine. Now you show me yours."

Great. I'm getting into it, and he wants me to figure out how to work the fucking phone. "You've gotten up close and personal with it enough times to know what it looks like," I protested.

"You're touching yourself too, aren't you? I can tell by your voice. It sounds dirty."

No shit. Probably had something to do with the fact I was wishing he was on the other end of my dick, instead of being on the other end of the phone.

"Come on, it's not so hard, Jack."

"Speak for yourself," I growled.

"You just have to push a few buttons."

I squeezed my cock through the thin fabric of my sweats and stifled a moan. "Something you know a hell of a lot about."

"The phone. Just point and push the button on the back. Jack, I want to see it."

The camera turned out to be pretty damn simple to use, although focusing was a little tricky. Feeling perverse, I pulled my sweats so that the fabric clung tightly around my dick, so that the shape was clearly defined. I sent the image, just like that. I lifted the phone back to my ear and waited.

It didn't take long.

"You are such a fucking cocktease."

"Daniel, such language. I prefer the term 'coy.'" But I was already pushing my sweatpants down. "Here, okay, how's this." I held the phone out again, aimed carefully and sent him a bird's-eye image of my cock.

"Got it. Nice. Very nice." A deep, shivery breath, as if his lips were only inches from my ear. "Yeah. Love it. Love your beautiful salty cock. Love—love you."

With all that panting and rambling, I knew he was really getting down to it. So was I, with heat building up from friction of my hand as it slid around my cock, my balls tightening up because I could imagine how damn hot he looked at that moment. I'd already seen him do it before, that one night when he tied me to the fucking bed. He didn't even touch me, just whipped his hand up and down his cock, moaning, face twisted up like he was in pain. He moaned and talked dirty until he came all over me, shooting all over my chest and my stomach like some sort of damn porno movie, and I loved every fucking minute of it.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh Jack—"

His voice broke off. He might have dropped the phone. I knew he was coming. He looked beautiful when he came. I pictured him digging his heels into the bed, lifting his hips, mouth open so I could see the red tip of his tongue. I loved that mouth, always wet and hot, loved him swallowing down my dick like it was the best thing he's ever tasted. I loved him so much that it felt like my heart was being twisted into a knot, and I knew I could never get enough of him.

"Oooh. Yeah." Daniel was back on the line, voice slurred and drowsy. "Messy, now."

"Show me," I gasped, loving the sound of his voice.


I needed him. "Show me. I want to see it."

"Oh—hey there's an extra charge for the money shots, you know."


"Hold on—"

"Daniel, please."

"There, you should be getting it now."

I got it all right: an image of Daniel's still-hard cock, lying on his slick stomach, smeared with come, dripping down toward his hip. Fucking beautiful. I stared at the picture as I worked my cock, smelling his sweat, his come, feeling his breath on my neck, his teeth on my skin. I came with his name on my lips, came sharp and hard. It was good, but not really good because it was by my own hand, and that's never the same. It just made me miss him all the more, made me realize I was sitting on that couch all alone with a damn cell phone in one hand and my wet, pulsing cock in the other.

When my breathing got back to something like normal, I lifted the phone to my ear. "Still there?" I asked.

"Still here. You still there?"

"Yeah. Here, though, not there."

A soft noise, maybe a yawn. "Wish you were," he said.

"Yeah, me too." I yawned in return. I wanted his heavy body sprawled all over me, stinking of tequila and gardenias. I wanted to feel his sweat and his bristly chin digging into my shoulder. I wanted him with me, needed him in a clingy, whiny sort of way that really bugged the hell out me.

"Tired, now."

"You should get some sleep. It's late," I told him. He was going to be as cranky as hell tomorrow. Not that the damn Russians didn't deserve it, and more.

"Right. You too."

"Yeah. At least I'll get a good night's sleep, without all that snoring." I wiped my hand on my bathrobe and pulled my sweats back up, over my sensitized cock. I was already feeling lazy and heavy.

"Hmm, right. How about I call you later in the week?" Another yawn, louder this time.

I scratched my stomach. "You know where to find me."

"Listen, don't you go running around off-world without me to watch your six, okay?" Despite his grogginess, I could hear the edge to his voice.

"There's no scheduled missions, you know that," I said, trying to soothe him. "Now go to sleep."

He saw right through me, of course. "That doesn't mean anything. Just be careful, okay?"

"Daniel, my biggest danger will be getting a paper cut while reading your reports."

I earned a sleepy chuckle with that one. "You don't read my reports."

"Goodnight, Daniel."

"'Night, Jack," he murmured, and his voice was warm and full of affection.

I listened until I was sure that he had hung up, then disconnected. "Sweet dreams," I said to no one in particular. I wrapped the robe around my body and pulled a pillow under my head. The bedroom was too far away, and Daniel wasn't in it. With one last look at the image lingering on the screen, I closed the phone up and slipped it into my pocket. Then I slept, right there on the couch, with a smile on my face.

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