Reason #435 Why Offworld Sex Is Not a Good Idea

by The Grrrl

Title: Reason #435 Why Offworld Sex Is Not a Good Idea

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

Summary: It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Notes: Kylie Lee beta'd this!

Jack leans over the balcony, eyeing the dark valley below. There's no movement of any kind, not that he expected any. Good. The planet is uninhabited, and since the address came from the Ancients' knowledge downloaded into his head years ago, he doesn't expect any trouble—aside from the fact that he always expects trouble.

The sky is gray with predawn light. He watches the stars near the horizon fade, enjoying the quiet, broken only by the occasional twittering bird. He decides to complete his watch with another round through the long corridors of the temple. After that he will wake Daniel, if Daniel isn't already awake and salivating over the ancient chicken-scratches awaiting him. Jack likes to wake Daniel up. He's amused by it, by the way Daniel mutters and grunts at him. He likes even better when those grunts turn into moans, with a little "oh, god, oh Jack," on the side.

But not here, of course, because they're offworld, and Daniel is sleeping in the same large chamber with Teal'c and Sam. Jack thinks about it though, as he walks along the glassy, reflective walls. Daniel, with his eyes closed, his mouth open, letting out sounds of pure pleasure. Jack's cock thickens at the thought of a slow, sleepy fuck, the kind of lovemaking that feels as though it should go on for hours.

"Right," he says quietly. They still have a week's worth of work to do here. There's no sense getting all worked up. He slings the P-90 over his shoulder and enters one of the connecting corridors, peering into empty rooms. At least he's no longer startled when he catches his reflection in the semidarkness. The temple is full of mirrored surfaces, which fascinates Daniel but makes Jack uneasy.

He hears something. It's very faint, a mere scuffle—could be feet on the tile floor. He freezes, head cocked, listening. Definitely footsteps. He swings the P-90 into position, but he already recognizes the cadence of the steps.

"Jack?" A soft voice comes out of the darkness.

"Hello, Daniel," Jack responds, lowering his gun. A familiar figure approaches him, a silhouette with broad shoulders, slim hips, ruffled hair. Daniel has decided to be an early bird, after all.

"Jack, I—" is all Daniel can get out before Jack gives into temptation and flattens him against the wall with a kiss. Daniel gives a surprising little squeal of protest, but Jack doesn't care. It's the first moment alone they've had in days and hell, it's just one little kiss. Daniel tries to turn his head away, but Jack grabs it in both hands and holds him still. Even so, Daniel still tries to talk to him, and Jack has to slide his tongue into Daniel's mouth to keep him quiet, because he's had enough of talking. They've been talking all week. He wants to do something else with his mouth now.

Apparently, Daniel gets it. He relaxes, lets out a soft little chuckle and wraps his arms around Jack. His mouth is rough and demanding, just the way Jack likes it. Daniel's body feels so good that Jack has to reach under Daniel's shirt to get his hands on that skin, has to rub the flat stomach and hard muscle. Daniel's hands go to his ass, squeezing, pulling him closer. Jack wonders vaguely if this wasn't such a good idea, because he can already feel Daniel's cock pressing happily against his thigh, and his own cock is poking into Daniel's hip. One little kiss could never be enough. It's only a taste of what he could have, and instead of releasing tension, it only ratchets it up further.

Once the rubbing starts he knows he's done for. It's a slippery slope—there's no halfway when it comes to Daniel. A kiss, just one little kiss, and it was his own command decision, but he never specified where that kiss would be, right? He fumbles with Daniel's belt, his fingers suddenly clumsy. Daniel is encouraging him, sliding right down that slope with him as he unbuttons his pants for Jack, a tight little moan of pleasure escaping from his mouth.

It has to be quick. Jack sinks down onto his knees, his mouth finding Daniel's cock. Daniel's hips jerk and his whimper has a frantic note to it. Daniel's cock tastes salty, and it grows even harder as Jack sucks, sliding his lips down the length of it, cramming as much of it into his mouth as he can. Daniel's pubic hair tickles his nose, and Jack loves the way he smells, loves the sweat and the dirt. He wants to bury his nose behind Daniel's balls, he wants to taste the crack of his ass, he wants to be mindlessly naked with Daniel. But he's not naked, he's all geared up in his vest, with his P-90 on his shoulder, because he's still on duty, even though he's down on his knees sucking Daniel's cock. And it's wrong, so very wrong, that he has to reach a hand into his own unfastened pants and squeeze, thinking that this might be the best idea he's ever had.

It doesn't take long for Daniel's body to start trembling, his fingers skittering through Jack's hair as he gasps for air. Jack sucks hard, once, twice, and then Daniel thrusts into his mouth and comes and comes and comes, silently. Jack moans and keeps sucking until Daniel pulls away, all the while jerking himself off with quick, short strokes, his own need spiraling skyward. It's just light enough out now for Jack to admire his handiwork—Daniel's cock resting against a pale thigh, the bead of come glistening on the tip, dripping down onto the edge of Daniel's pants, his brown pants—

Brown? That's not right, they don't have brown BDUs, and those buttons—that's not—not—

Fuck. It's all wrong, but it's too late. Jack can't stop himself. He comes, sharp, jagged pleasure mixed with panic, as he hears Daniel's voice from a distance, calling his name.

When his vision clears, when his body stops shaking, his Daniel has arrived. His Daniel with the correctly green BDUs, his Daniel with the arms folded against his chest and an indecipherable expression on his face.

Brown BDU Daniel is grinning as he buttons his pants.

Fuck.

Jack doesn't even want to look at the man he hears approaching, but he does. Of course it's a tall gray-haired man, wearing the same wrong-color-brown BDUs, and of course the man has an all-too-familiar face, not to mention an all-too-familiar "what the fuck?" scowl. Damn fucking mirrors. Jack squeezes his eyes shut, hand still clutching his dripping cock. But the ground refuses to do the decent thing and swallow him up. Resigned, he opens his eyes again, wipes his mouth, and pastes on a smile.

"Next?" he asks, brightly.

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