is sprawled on the floor, patiently brushing dirt and detritus from the
smooth, sweeping curves of this new language he's found, oblivious both
to the sweltering heat and to my presence as I restlessly prowl the
and Teal'c are camped a coupla kliks away, right at the entrance to the
cave complex Carter has her eyes on for mineral testing, having fun
with crampons. And I do mean fun. Carter sounded giddy and
giggly last check-in. If we get any usable samples it will be
entirely coincidental, I'm sure.
for Daniel, lying here dreamily caressing his fingers over the written
word -- Well, he did his usual kick-ass linguistic assessment on the
ruins, admitted the Goa'uld had never been near the place, and nor had
anyone else in about ten thousand years, picked up his end of the
sample case and started teasing Carter about his 'heights' thing.
It's kind of like the allergy thing, and the gun thing and, we all
realised with a little ache for him, the archaeology thing. His
bone-deep driving passion to hold the past in his hand has become 'as
and when convenient'. If.
kids are good. Daniel didn't ask, didn't expect. He just
WANTED. We could see how much in the way he wouldn't look at the
ruins, neatly deflected Carter's questions and couldn't get away from
there quick enough. Carter looked at me, I looked at Daniel,
while Teal'c just strolled over and started unpacking FRED. They
got crampons and picks, we got shovels and brushes. Equal
division of tents, rations, ammo and if I can't come up with something
more convincing than 'patrolling', labour.
blushed to the roots of his hair, which had Carter grinning from ear to
ear and making provocative 'sweet' cracks she thought I couldn't hear
before she, Teal'c and FRED trundled off, loudly dissing my shovelling
skills. Daniel is thrilled. He's smiling at me - REALLY
smiling - whenever I drag him away from the floor for a water break or
a food break or a 'he's been so frickin' focused he's making my hair
threat-assessed the ass-end of the known universe thoroughly,
regretfully concluding the most immediate threat to my ongoing health,
safety and welfare is rendering unskilled archaeological
assistance. I've patrolled the vicinity up the wazoo, made camp,
made lunch, which he didn't eat 'til I yelled at him, even done my
goddamn paperwork. Next break for ANYTHING, my ass is Danny's.
break," I order tersely.
Daniel wheedles in a 'bedtime?' tone I know too well.
rolls over and glares at me, frustration rolling off him in waves.
enough time. I know," I say quietly, sauntering over to his side
and proffering the canteen. His eyes soften and the smile
reappears. Daniel is the original low maintenance friend. A
little understanding, a little kindness, and he's toast. I drop
down to sit beside him, companionably close. "Don't guzzle," I
order provocatively as he takes a careful draft of water.
I swear to God, if you trot out that lecture about dehydration for the
hundred and fifteenth time I'm shooting you with your own gun," Daniel
eye him coolly. "Take more than YOU'VE got, Dannyboy," I drawl
with that faux-Irish accent which always makes him wince. These days,
I'm not so sure. Daniel's got quite a lot. He's wearing the
same size clothes he always did but now he doesn't look like a kid
playing dress-up, he fills them. It's particularly obvious just
now 'cause most of my uniform is back at the tent, along with most of
Daniel's. We're stripped down to BDUs, tees and weaponry because
of the sullen heat, stifling the breath in our throats, and that's
inside. God knows what the tent will be like. Maybe Hammond
will spring for air conditioning? After all, he signed off on the
amended mission objectives. I'm under strict orders to boost my
linguist's flagging morale any way I can. Air conditioning would
make a significant dent in the funk Daniel's been in lately. He
doesn't hang and chat, just drinks his water, smiles thanks, and books.
old same old.
settle and stare. This is a weird place. I'm not sensitive
to atmosphere like Daniel is, but even I can feel history weighing us
down here. The stone is worn smooth and mellow in the blistering
sunshine, green-filtered by the interwoven tree branches overhead,
taking the place of the roof, which Daniel is patiently brushing clear
of the floor. No glass in the high, arched windows, no
doors. No objects - artefacts - of any kind. Nothing to
look at, nothing to see but the floor, the writing on it spiralling in
to the centre, and the sun filtering down and bathing the archaeologist
sits up impatiently, yanking at his tee, pulls it over his head, balls
it and throws it clear. Then he stretches out, curving his body
to fit the spiral he's clearing, weight poised on shoulder and hip,
knee pressed forward for balance as he gently brushes. He's got
patience to burn but I cringe reflexively. Looks like a full body
muscle pull waiting to happen, despite the sweet, sinuous curve of hip
Sinuous I could shrug off as too much hanging with dictionary
definition boy there, he has a nasty habit of bringing out the grammar
in me, but sweet? Sweet requires kick-ass rationalising.
sip my water slowly, surveille and - assess. For sweetness.
Or signs of incipient insanity. Not sure which right now.
Daniel. Hmm. Long, long legs. I shrug
impatiently. Old news. He was all legs and wide eyes when I
first met him. Narrow hips, a guy thing. Tight ass. A
guy wish thing. A supple, slender back and a lot of sleek muscle,
glistening from sweat and slanting sun. Subtly flexing biceps and
broad shoulders arching smoothly into the oddly tender curve of his
nape. That other curve though, from hip to waist and waist to
sweet it is.
yeah, good instincts there, O'Neill. Sweet is very definitely a
guy DOING a guy thing, a thing you most emphatically do not do.
haul myself to my feet and wander over to join him, set the P-90 down
where I can reach it, though the perimeter sensors will sound the alarm
way before I hear anything, grab myself the big brush, and stretch out
facing Daniel. One clumsy sweep of the brush has Daniel sighing,
leaning in close enough to touch as he settles his hand over mine,
nudging me and my brush into smooth, controlled flexing of wrist and
fingers that strokes shockingly straight down to my abruptly aching
does this remind you of?" Daniel muses.
is the word frozen on my lips. "Honestly?" I say wryly after a
moment to regroup.
shrugs, peering up at me over his glasses, eyes wide, curiously gentle
and way too close. He frees my hand, but hovers, alert for
incipient vandalism. I smirk, scooping out the dirt with enough
verve to make him scowl. "It reminds me irresistibly of the
opening credits to 'Batman'," I clarify crisply.
won't trouble you with the proto-elamite epoch of Susa, then," Daniel
relief," I murmur dulcetly, eyes wide and ingenuous over my impeccable
pronunciation. I know a little about a lot, more than enough to
spread confusion when I need it most. I need it now. "I'm
gay," I say easily, flipping the dirt about casually.
it? Big mother of a revelation, meaning of life stuff going down
in my pants, big time, right now, and all I get from my best friend,
confidante and bolt-from-the-blue lust object is a stinky little 'oh'?
how long?" Daniel asks, propping his cheek on his hand, staring at me,
a little amused, a lot fascinated. "How long have you been gay?"
flip open my watch and check it carefully. "I've been in
Ellensville for four and a half minutes," I say precisely.
Daniel mulls this over, nibbling his lip thoughtfully.
should tell him he shouldn't do that, I've gotten laid approximately
thrice in the past five years and maybe I should just slide the P-90 on
over to him. Just in case. The blood isn't so much slamming
down as inexorably shifting, like continental drift. Slow,
implacable and I suspect irreversible.
this was a spontaneous conversion?" Daniel asks dubiously.
took a water break. Went in straight and came out - you'll excuse
the expression - gay."
May I ask what prompted this epiphany?" he asks at last, pulling off
his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose, like that will help.
love the way Daniel doesn't judge. He has that rare
broadmindedness that just doesn't SEE differences, doesn't label,
doesn't fear. He questions relentlessly, but it isn't personal
with him. I've presented him with a problem and he'll work the
angles until he finds a solution. It's likely to be 'Jack is a
sad fuck whose reason for living is messing with my mind' but I can
live with that if he'll let me mess with his ass. Joke.
Don't actually MEAN - really don't.
sweet curve." I set my hand skimming over said curve from hip to waist
and waist to ribs, a whisper from touchdown. "And this," I add as
I put theory into practice and wrap my hand around his neck, fingers
spreading comfortably over soft skin and curiously into silky hair.
"THIS is the part where I reveal my kinky nape fetish." He's
going to put me down hard any second, kick my ass and put me
straight. No pun.
Daniel murmurs approvingly, arching his neck a little.
glare at him.
this is the part where YOU - okay - er - this is NOT the part where you
do THAT!" I accuse. "You're supposed to be helping me out here,
not - not feeling me up." He was NOT supposed to do that, not
supposed to just reach out and curve his hand over my hip. He was
supposed to put THIS to bed, not ME. I'm also fairly confident I
should be peeling that hand right back off my hip, not enjoying the
hell out of it.
helping myself," Daniel says softly, smiling, eyes depthless.
fingers fan out and suddenly his thumb is stroking sweetly over my
dick, making me POUND and flinch and curse him.
been gay a lot longer, Jack, and for me, it was this - "
was pulling away, his hands are on me and I was enjoying it so I was
pulling away, so how the fuck is he just a breath away? One thumb
stroking my dick, the other smoothing over my lips and Daniel is right
behind, kissing me strong and hard. His mouth is a contradiction,
looks soft and isn't, Christ it isn't, it's mobile, firm, insistent
yes. Yes. Another perfect curve. Hurled right out of
left field. Switch hitter here. Stepping up to the other
side of the plate to bat.
supposed to be stopping me," I complain.
Daniel asks reasonably, taking tiny, incredibly distracting bites at my
jaw. "When I went to all this trouble to get you started?
I'm a little disappointed it wasn't my ass that kick-started your
libido but even I couldn't work out a way to get out of my BDUs without
being, um, slutty about it."
open my mouth and Daniel sticks his tongue in my ear. The result
is a strangled yelp there isn't a comeback snappy enough to fix.
takes my hand and cups it firmly over an erection that puts mine to
never guessed you were this naïve," Daniel whispers huskily,
chuckling as I sputter. "It's an incredible turn-on."
never guessed he wasn't. The little prick - excuse me, I speak
figuratively of course - out-thunk me and the stroking and the - the
tonguing are incredible turn-on's too. I'd tell him I'm not that
kind of boy but his thumb and my dick say emphatically otherwise.
find myself going on instinct, going with my dick, flowing up, hands at
Daniel's shoulders pushing him down beneath my weight. He reaches
up as we fall and I snatch his hands, pin them to the ground above his
head. He quirks an eyebrow in mild enquiry and I turn my hands in
his, his fingers clasping strongly over mine. I'm stretched out
over the full length of him, finding he's ALL contradiction, hard
planes and soft skin and heat and welcome. He lifts his head and
we kiss again, not tentative, not tentative at all.
is taking control, opening to me, tongue flickering out to flirt with
mine, seducing me into his willing mouth. I groan as my tongue glides
down over his, Daniel opening to me so much, letting me so close.
His eyes close as the kiss deepens, like he just wants to FEEL, to
touch and taste and know. He moans as I thrust against him,
tongue rasping forcefully over mine, shoving back, all heat and
thighs part and I groan again as his legs wrap around mine. He's
hard and urgent against me, moaning passionately into my mouth as his
hips move achingly beneath mine. I push against him and he arches
into me, shuddering, gasping, hands clenching. He strains up and
snatches a kiss, tongue thrusting wildly into my mouth. I suck
him eagerly, gloating over his flushed face as he writhes insistently
thinking hazily we're only a few plastic poppers short of skin on skin
but my hands are way ahead of me, between us, wrenching open first my
BDUs, then his. Daniel's eyes are dazed, drowsy with desire as he
sits up and lends an assist, shoving my BDUs impatiently down and
getting no further than my ass, where he forgets what he was doing and
gropes me with a vengeance until my straining dick brushes over his
belly. He stills and looks down, eyes wide. Then he looks
up, eyes wider.
shrug, completely embarrassed. Not so much excited as borderline
eyes narrow as he deliberately licks his lips, hands skimming over my
flanks and reaching between us.
uh," I growl, grabbing him and tumbling us down. One flick of the
switch and I'll be purely ballistic here. We both groan as
slippery, straining dicks clash and grind and hot, heavy pleasure boils
through me, making me hiss.
lifts his face for another kiss, his hands stroking steadily over every
inch of my back, down onto my butt, where they clench hard enough to
bruise as he yanks me closer. Definitely been working out.
No question. I rock and push and he rocks and arches into me as
we find a rhythm that works for both of us. Kind of a primitive,
pounding rhythm, being completely honest, but what we lack in first
time finesse we more than make up in raw, urgent passion. Or is
that hysterical desperation?
makes it crystal clear I should pick up the pace by wrapping his legs
emphatically around my back and moaning my name, voice thick with
longing as I slam into him over and over.
kiss him again, driving deep into his mouth, as deep as I'm driving
into his body, fighting my own battle with the pleasure shocking
through me every time our skin collides, fighting to make it good, make
it last. It should be fucking obvious what he wants, he's
got. I couldn't BE more got and frankly he's taking every fucking
thing I've got just to keep up with him. I swear, he's snarling
at me as shudders wrench through his body and he throws back his head,
crying out as he comes.
slick heat pulsing over my belly and groin doesn't drive me over the
edge, but that low, wanton cry of 'Jaa-aack' hits every button I've got
and slams me over so hard I get white flashes going off behind my eyes,
and that odd strangled noise erupts from the back of my throat, the one
I haven't heard in a decade of Friday night dates and mission-induced
collapse, heaving and gasping, on Daniel, who seems quite pleased if
the way he's wrapping himself possessively around me is anything to go
it," I groan into his sweat-soaked throat. "You've had all you're
kisses my hair and chuckles. "Um, what I was thinking of doesn't
really need you to be anything more than relaxed, Jack," he says
sweetly, hands curving meaningfully over my ass.
kind of like this little hollow at the base of his throat, but I tear
my tongue away at that. "I'm not THAT gay!"
bet?" Daniel asks softly, fingers stroking into my hair.
don't seriously think I'm going to let you fuck me?" I demand
indignantly, firmly suppressing a treacherous twitch of interest.
and slow and deep," Daniel murmurs dreamily. "You've been gay for
- " he prompts.
check my watch automatically. "Twenty minutes," I admit,
flushing. "So? I may be easy, but I'm not THAT easy.
pretty much what I had in mind." Daniel bats his eyes at me. "For
the relaxation part."
eyes instantaneously fixate on his mouth, and his smile widens.
love YOU, Jack," Daniel says solemnly. "Your ass is just the
do?" I ask, startled. "You do?" Er, that kinda begs the
face falls. "You don't?"
- " I need to buy some time. "How come you know so much about
me again what it is I DO for a living?" Daniel snaps tartly.
me crazy, mostly. Keeps me sane, more.
done a little research myself," I admit shiftily, thinking I need to
keep him talking, buy some more time, 'cause the time I've had isn't
enough. "In case you were wondering about my - " I kind of
choke on 'technique', that makes it sound like any of that was down to
a man with a plan instead of a dick in a Daniel induced
tail-spin. "I've got satellite. There's a show I've been
watching. It's British," I add hopefully. Not BBC, but
still, British. Not exactly strawberries and cream, and if Stuart
Allan Jones saw anyone in cricket gear he'd fuck them stupid, but even
I had to tune in obsessively to admire the man's style. Stuart
could nail anything that MOVED. He could have nailed me. He
could have nailed HAMMOND. And I have to admit, I think Daniel
would have nailed him. Not - Hammond. Obviously not.
me help you out here, Jack. If you 'don't', you DON'T," Daniel
announces coldly, folding his arms pointedly over his chest and
wriggling his behind free of my own wandering hand. "Because if I
hadn't been sure you DID, I wouldn't."
do," I snarl, admitting defeat. Or I wouldn't. "You're a
know," Daniel agrees sympathetically, getting right back to
snuggling. "But I'm hot enough to make it worth your while.
I'll cut you some slack for being in a state of shock and take that as
a 'yes' on both counts."
am royally fucked," I groan as his hands wander purposefully down again.
I really hate to take too much time out from an excavation, but for you
I'll make an exception," Daniel offers generously, beaming up at
me. "If you give me a minute, and grab that brush, the small one
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