Pornfic 3

Marking Territory
(Jack/Daniel)

~

Daniel bolted into Janet's office, skidded to a stop, turned, and closed the door behind him. Couldn't lock it. Janet might not have her key--and Daniel's eyes quickly saw them sitting on her desk. Shit. Well, this was the last place Jack would look, so he had some time. Time for Jack to calm down. Time for Daniel to stop. Fucking. Laughing.

If possible.

Okay, so maybe he shouldn't have done it. But Jack, that sarcastic, smug, handsome bastard... he'd really been asking for something to be done. Hell, he'd been subconsciously screaming it. And standing there at the urinals after their showers, listening to Jack tease him about leadership and territoriality and how he was top dog--and damn, it was a good thing that Jack hadn't dressed yet, although that wouldn't have stopped Daniel. He'd suddenly had that scene between James Spader and Jack Nicholson from Wolf flashing through his mind and... that had been that. And hey, Jack deserved getting his bare feet pissed on.

Fortunately, Daniel had been dressed. It was fate, actually. Destiny. Good fucking luck. He was usually as naked as Jack--with a towel, of course--and they'd usually do their little dancing number, pretending not to look but looking anyway. Then Jack had started in on him and Daniel had finally had it. Lost it. Whatever.

Jack's reaction hadn't been all that surprising. Not really. Not when Daniel had a moment--while speeding down the corridor at a hundred damn miles an hour and falling into the luckily-open elevator--to think about it. Jack's reaction was expected. Kind of. Sort of.

Okay, his nearly homicidal behavior wasn't expected, and really, Daniel should stop laughing. Any moment now. Besides, he'd give away his position if he didn't, and give Jack something else to harp on him about while he...

Got back at him.

Daniel swallowed hard as he braced against the wall behind the door, willing his heartbeat to slow the fuck down. Not an easy thing to do after running a marathon race through corridors and elevators and stairs. Funny how people just got the hell out of the way. As if they knew who was chasing him and didn't want to be collateral damage.

What would Jack do when he found him? And it really was when Jack found him, Daniel told himself, not if. He worked here, practically lived here. It was only a matter of time. He couldn't escape the payback.

God.

He was about to picture what kind of payback it would be--and what kind he'd prefer (though that wouldn't really be payback, it'd be a reward)--when the door flew open and Jack marched in. He wasn't far enough away from the door for Daniel to sneak past and escape, either. Shit. Jack, just take a few more steps, look under her desk or something!

But Jack turned around. Slowly, with that eyebrow cocked and Jesus Christ, Daniel nearly wet himself. With pre-come, that is. Jack had that look, the one that fuelled Daniel's rough fantasies (there were categories).

"Hi, Jack."

"Daniel," Jack replied and swung the door shut... and locked it. The door wasn't shut loudly but Daniel could've sworn that turning over the bolt was louder than normal. Or maybe it was just him, or... or maybe it was the very dangerous look in Jack's eyes. And the way he came toward him, bracing his hands on either side of Daniel's head. Jesus. Another set of fantasies fueled. For fucking years, at this point.

"Jack?"

"Daniel. You pissed on my feet."

"Um, yeah, I'm sorry but you were--"

"Are you really?"

"Really what?"

"Sorry."

"Uh, no, not really."

"Thought so."

Jack was coming closer still and Daniel wondered if it was normal for him to be feeling like a teenager, even if he was nearly 40. He swallowed. "Payback time?"

"In a manner of speaking," Jack said, staring at him, then... shit. Slowly looking him up and down. What the fuck was this?

"Jack?"

"While I was washing my feet off, Daniel, I started thinking. You pissed on my feet."

"Yeah," Daniel drawled, wondering where this was going.

"Which means, relative to our conversation--"

"Your yanking my chain, you mean," Daniel corrected, his mouth twitching.

"Okay, granted, but as I was saying, pissing on my feet means you were marking your territory."

Jack's eyes burned into him and the words made Daniel's eyes widen, his brain frantically scrambling for whatever the hell Jack had in mind for payback. "Okay, yeah, marking territory."

"Which pretty much means, Daniel, that in marking your territory, you marked me as yours, didn't you?"

Daniel blinked. Oh shit, it could be taken that way and, well, yeah, subconsciously, that's exactly what he'd been doing, and... oh hell. "Um... well, yeah, I guess so." Now what? Jack's mouth curved upward on one side and Daniel felt the underside of his dick twitch. God, not now, dammit.

"I think maybe it's time to do a little property marking of my own."

Daniel's brows went straight up, despite part of him knowing that Jack said that on purpose to get him riled. "Property marking?"

"Yep."

Daniel felt his skin flush as Jack closed in. The man was fucking serious. And if he wasn't, this was going to get very weird any moment now, not to mention extremely humiliating. Daniel couldn't risk that.

"Jack," he began, bringing his hands up--and fuck, that was a mistake because he was now touching Jack, and the man had the frustrating gall to be wearing just his t-shirt. No fatigue shirt, and damn, he was hot. He felt so good, and it took all of Daniel's strength not to slide his hands over that wonderfully curved, packed muscle.

He damn near barked in surprise when Jack took his mouth. Took his mouth. Jesus god. Daniel opened his mouth. It was all he could think to do--which was embarrassing, considering what he could be thinking of doing under different circumstances. The point became moot. Everything became moot. Jack pressed his body against his and his hands were trapped between them. No room to slide, or roam, or play. Daniel was thinking of clutching his shirt in his fists, but his attention was redirected.

He could feel Jack's erection pressed into the hollow of his hip and dear god, that felt good. Just as his tongue felt good; demanding, searching, playing with his own. He could feel the stubble because his actions hadn't given Jack time to shave. Shit. His hands moved quickly, sliding up Jack's back instead, his fingers clawing, grabbing that side of the shirt instead, and he thrust his hips, preparing to rub his groin against Jack, but Jack was way ahead of him and Jesus Christ...

Expertly rubbing while his fingers moved down between them. Daniel's cock jumped when he heard the belt buckle and felt the buttons of his trousers opening. Jack didn't wait to push them down over his hips before his hand was inside, taking hold of his shaft, the head of his cock, and stroking. Hard.

He moaned into Jack's mouth, indicating his approval, and hurriedly pushed his trousers and briefs over his hips before going for Jack's. Letting go of his cock, Jack broke the kiss and slapped his hand away.

"Not yet. This is mine. You can have yours in a few minutes, minus the pissing on my feet."

Then Daniel's cognitive functions exited stage left as Jack dropped to his knees and swallowed the head of his cock. He clapped a hand over his mouth, stifling and choking off the moans and words. Fingers pushed and rolled his balls and Jack's tongue did some magical things on the head of his cock, on the underside, before he hollowed his cheeks and sucked. Daniel couldn't stop himself from thrusting, his free hand on the back of Jack's head, tiny soundless moans coming through the fingers over his mouth, air puffing through his nose.

It was all he could do to stay still when a single finger rubbed over his hole and pushed in halfway, dry. Jack wiggled, pushed in more, crooked, and Daniel clutched at Jack's hair with his free hand, jerking convulsively, trying not to come but gave in when Jack's finger began to fuck him. He came profusely down his throat, coming even harder as Jack swallowed against him.

It was only a minute later, afterglow used like extra adrenalin, and Daniel needed to taste, to own, to run his tongue over that cock he'd been taking secret looks at for a while. He wished he had the time to play, but Jack had been good and quick, knowing they couldn't take their time, so he didn't either. Although he couldn't wait to see what Jack would do to him when he did have the time.

Pulling Jack to his feet, he started to turn them around when Jack eyed him seductively and very deliberately sucked on the finger that had been inside him.

Fuck. Daniel slammed him against the wall and this time, claimed Jack's mouth, loving how Jack gave back passionately. Shoving his trousers down before pulling from the kiss, Daniel stroked him through his briefs--a slight tease--before dropping to his knees and pulling the briefs down with him.

Daniel's mouth watered at the smell and color and the fact that Jack was so hard for him. He didn't waste time; couldn't, even if he wanted to. Sucking, he circled the head once, twice, then went down the shaft and pulled back, repeating it till he finally opened his throat and plunged. He looked up as he let Jack fuck his mouth, finding him watching him with dark, dilated eyes, face flushed with lust, lips bitten together, puffs of breath coming through his nose.

Jack whispered, "When we're cut loose, I'm coming over. And then I'm going to break your bed. I'm going to fuck you so goddamn hard, Daniel. So goddamned hard."

Fuck yes. Daniel growled around his cock, making Jack buck and gasp. God, that looked so fucking good.

"You should've pissed on my feet a long time ago, Daniel," Jack whispered with a laugh, then held Daniel's head in his hands as he came, pouring thickly into his mouth, sliding his cock back and forth, watching intently as Daniel drank and swallowed each shot. Daniel was amazed at the amount--so like his own.

Done, Jack pulled him up and kissed him hard against the wall while they both pulled up their trousers and buttoned them closed. Breaking away, Daniel smiled. "You're right, we should have, though I can't guarantee it would've been the same."

Jack nodded. "Still, I loved the chase. Now let's get out of here before Fraiser needs her office."

Walking down the hall, Daniel felt Jack behind him and the hairs stood up on the back of his neck.

At home, later, Jack was true to his word, marking his territory, staking his claim. It was strange, because Daniel remembered things out of order. Being thrown onto the bed, kissed into anoxia, clothes ripped off, bitten and marked and rolled over, and god, fucked so hard he'd seen stars.

But he did remember, in order, exactly what he'd done to Jack. And he'd always remember the howl, in stereo, as he'd first claimed that wonderful ass, sinking in, fucking both slow and fast, making Jack claw and scratch at the bed, pulling the sheets loose so that the mattress was bare by the time he was done with him. Woke up to find a round imprint on Jack's chest from one of the mattress plugs. He couldn't stop smiling at that.

At breakfast, the teeth marks and bruises on his ass made Daniel smile every time he moved, yet it was Jack who winced and squirmed.

"Did you overdo your workout, sir?" Sam asked with a grin as she and Teal'c joined them.

Jack looked across the table at Daniel and Daniel hid his grin around the pancakes he shoveled in his mouth. With a smirk, Jack answered, "You could say the workout claimed my ass, Carter, but at least my knees are fine."

More
(Jack/Daniel)

~

Daniel always wants more, Jack thinks as he undresses inside their tent. More time to think, more things to say, more ways to please and drive him insane.

Jack also wants more. They're alike that way. Except Jack doesn't want to talk, think, or plan. He just wants more of Daniel, and he gets it. Every single day. Well, minus the injury days spent in the infirmary.

Daniel's not like an addiction. He is the addiction. He practically defines it. Jack's never had this much sex and he can't help but wonder why he wants so much.

Perhaps it's because Daniel plays with his mind. He taunts; gives him a little smile or a stare meant only for him, and he does it during briefings, when they're in the middle of a battle on some other planet. Like a promise for after, and it only spurs Jack on. To get more, to have more, to re-possess and re-claim. To feel that pleasure that goes both ways.

He watches as Daniel undresses, teasing by leaving on the t-shirt and shorts--although Jack's done the same.

And all Jack has to do is give Daniel that return stare, that look, and Daniel is on him, kissing him, rubbing into him, moving down, swallowing his cock. Jack's learned a long time ago how not to make a sound while on missions, and with Daniel's throat around his cock, he learns the real reason for it. There are huffs of breath while he thrusts back but just before he comes, Daniel pulls away. Jack wants to scream. And can't. It leaves him wanting more.

He turns over and lubed fingers spread him open, quickly readying his ass before Daniel's sinking his cock inside him.

It can last a long time and usually does. Daniel wears a condom during their missions, just as he himself does, but rarely does Daniel come inside him. Jack knows why, which is why it lasts--and brings him back for more. Daniel has mastered the art of silence just as much as he has, only he's also mastered the art of stretching sex past the breaking point, making it so that the pleasure lasts hours. Hours. When he applies the right kind of pressure, however, it can take only seconds.

Once, just once, Daniel proved it to him, on a mission, with Sam and Teal'c on the other side of a short crop of forest, seconds away at a full run, and Daniel suddenly shoved him against a tree and dropped to his knees. Jack rarely comes that fast and perhaps it's because Daniel doesn't let him much. He prefers the slow build and the hard, lightning-fast drop off the cliff. The one that takes him and Jack by surprise every time, even though they know it's coming. Quite literally.

Jack looks up Tantrism once to see if he could do the same in return, but he has no patience for that kind of thing. Buried in Daniel's ass, he never lasts as long as the methods require. Daniel never complains. He likes the hard, bruising fuck, either before or after he likes to make Jack experience his way. His way makes Jack black out, it's so intense.

Jack wants more.

And sometimes, more means that Jack wants the Down and Dirty, which is what Daniel calls it.

"Down and dirty," he whispers over his shoulder as Daniel starts his slow thrusting.

"Jack," Daniel protests softly, angling and easing over his gland.

Jack groans, then pushes his ass up, spreads his knees as wide as they'll go and drops his head to the sleeping bag. "Down and dirty. Please."

Daniel groans this time and thrusts hard, once, balls to balls. There can be no quick and frantic slapping of skin on skin. It makes a tell-tale sound. What Down and Dirty really entails is the viciously hard grind and extremely short pounding, skin barely leaving skin. It brings the shaft of Daniel's thick cock over Jack's gland so that it rubs constantly through each and every downward grind and thrust. Then Daniel leans over him, with Jack's head still pressed to the ground so that he slides forward a little, weight pressed against Jack's ass, and takes his cock and balls in hand.

Then Daniel squirms, shifting side to side as he grinds. His entire body moves over Jack's; hands busily demanding through rough massage and minutes later, with Jack's mouth filled with sleeping bag, he's stifling his cry of pleasure so that he can hear the specific sounds Daniel makes when he comes.

Because it's different. He writhes and jerks above him, emitting these short, tiny little barks of breath made repeatedly as he shoots.

Jack knows this is what gives Daniel his orgasmic coup de grace.

And it gives Jack more.

Prey
(Jack/Daniel)

~

Jack's always had deep, dark fantasies. He's fantasized about fucking some guy's ass, to know what it feels like to have his cock in a guy's mouth or a strange cock in his hand, in his own mouth. In his own ass. To be taken from behind or on his back; to be fucked ruthlessly, with bruises and cuts everywhere, made by fingernails and teeth. To have his hands bound and his body used as a plaything.

Jack's never thought those fantasies would merge with reality, and do so with such frightening clarity that it turns him on past the point of rationality. He isn't sure he wants it to happen again but he knows he's lying to himself. His body betrays him when he thinks about it. He feels the aches and the pains. Doesn't know what time it is, or even what day it is. He doesn't care; he wants it. He wants Daniel.

And as his knees are pushed to his chest and his feet splayed high and wide, he shudders once again as Daniel's cock slices into his ass as deep as his teeth are biting into his neck. Daniel fucks him with both, making Jack come so hard he can't see; can't hear anything but the pounding of blood and the moans Daniel makes as he drinks.

Jack closes his eyes for sleep, wondering when exactly did Daniel become a vampire? He knows he doesn't care. Knows it's a problem, too. Knows that when he wakes, he'll find Daniel next to him, just as he's done for the last week. At least, he thinks it's been a week.

He knows he'll find that insatiable hunger lingering in those blue eyes, and when Daniel smiles at him, he'll once more let Jack see who and what he really is.

Jack knows that he's been caught; that all this time, he wasn't just Daniel's friend, Daniel's boss, Daniel's teammate. He's been Daniel's prey.

Riding the Edge
(Jack/Daniel)

~

"Jack," Daniel breathed, tilting his head back further as the knife edge pushed in.

"Do it," Jack told him, wiggling his hips slightly, grinning when Daniel hissed.

"If you cut me..." Daniel warned.

Jack grabbed him between his legs with lightning fast agility and Daniel was dropped onto his back with Jack's knife at his throat, his dick still in his ass. "You'll what?" Jack asked, circling his hips twice.

Daniel bit his lip, groaning, telling himself not to come.

"You can't wait, can you?" Jack asked, bringing the blade's edge up over Daniel's chin, scraping just a little to make that rough stubble sound.

"I can... try," Daniel ground out between clenched teeth.

"No," Jack said. "You can't."

Then Jack started to thrust, slow and easy, and god, Daniel knew he wouldn't last, couldn't last. Especially when the blade was drawn down over his skin and the sharp needle point of the steel was pushed into the side of his left nipple, drawing just a drop of blood.

"Fuck!" he shouted, ignoring the knife as he bucked into Jack's hips, squeezing tight around his cock.

"Yes," Jack hissed, smiling with pleasure, loving how he pushed their limits. "You really like this combat knife kink," he said, thrusting just a little faster when Daniel locked his ankles behind his back.

"Yes," Daniel answered, eyes closed, moaning at what was coming.

"It's time, I think," Jack said with a tight voice.

"Yes, fuck, yes," and Daniel could feel Jack's body tightening, his cock engorged as he fucked him hard and at the precise angle, timing it just right. Daniel opened his eyes wide, his orgasm there, begging as he stared into Jack's wild expression--as Jack tossed the knife away and picked up the zat. Seeing it, Daniel arched back and came, feeling Jack coming with him, shouting, "Now!" as he fired.

Daniel's orgasm was abruptly stopped and restarted as he contorted with pain and pleasure. Jack held on, creating bruises with his body as he thrashed and convulsed above him, his hips still trying to thrust as he emptied his balls into him.

It took several minutes to pass. Neither of them could move when they came back to consciousness. Daniel was covered in come and he languidly spread it over his chest, rubbing some of it into Jack's, making his lover's cheek twitch in a smile. He rolled them over, shuddering as Jack's cock slid from his body.

"We have to stop using the zat," he mumbled, kissing Jack's sweat-damp lips.

"I know," Jack said, opening his eyes enough to peek through, pulling up enough energy to kiss Daniel back.

"Except it's too damn good to stop."

"It is."

"We could kill ourselves one day."

"I know that, too."

"Still."

"Still."

"One hell of a way to go."

"Yes, one hell of a way to go. And better than getting shot offworld and having our cold, dead bodies dragged back here, with neither of us getting the chance to say goodbye."

"We say goodbye?" Daniel asked knowingly, grinning a little, kissing a little more.

"Every time we come."

Dropping the Soap
(Jack/Daniel)

~

Jack stared with disbelief. Daniel, on his knees, looking at his legs, his cock, as he blindly searched for the bar of soap he dropped. Daniel wasn't even pretending not to look and Jack couldn't help it. His cock stiffened and grew as Daniel boldly stared at it and... licked his lips.

Jack swallowed. "Something on your mind, Daniel?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper.

"You could say that," Daniel said, and braced his left hand on the wall, his right still supposedly searching, finding Jack's leg instead. Except the soap was in Daniel's left hand.

"Um, Daniel..."

Jack's words failed him because Daniel was pulling on the back of his left thigh, just above his knee, and Jack shuffled awkwardly, taking a step toward him and...

It was like slow-motion film or something. Moving so right, as if directed, his cock hard and heavy, pointing out at Daniel's mouth as if beckoning him, and Jack knew damn well that his lizard brain was doing just that.

Then Daniel's mouth was on him, tongue sliding around the head before sucking it inside. He moaned, making Jack do the same, hands out against the tile, eyes riveted on Daniel's mouth, his face, the way his lips were wrapped around him. He thrust, just to see what Daniel would do--if he was just experimenting. But Daniel's eyes locked on his and he opened his mouth wider and tilted his head back a little.

Jack sucked in a breath, gasping through the shudders Daniel caused. He wanted to hold his head, to guide his cock further in, but standing, he didn't trust his balance. Daniel was fucking good at this, which begged the question Jack tossed out a second later. He didn't want to know. All he knew was that Daniel was sucking him off, in the communal showers at the SGC and Jack. Didn't. Care.

Just endless sucking and thrusting and fuckshitdamn, he couldn't wait and he was coming, and coming harder as Daniel closed his throat around him and swallowed.

When he let his cock go, sucking just a little tease after, making Jack twitch and draw away, Daniel stood up, smug as shit. Jack couldn't have that. He grabbed the soap and kissed him hard, rubbing said soap firmly over Daniel's balls, making him squirm and buck and moan.

Jack released him, pulling back, except for his hands, one with the soap he'd stolen and the other around Daniel's hard cock. Daniel grabbed his shoulders, biting his lip, thrusting through the slick suds while Jack stroked his cock between his palm and the hard soap. Daniel breathed in short, shallow pants, his cheeks and lips flushed with lust and need and Jack thought it was the sexiest look he'd ever seen.

"Look at me," he said, and when Daniel looked up, Jack said, "Come now," and kissed him again. Daniel moaned into his mouth, his come dotting Jack's arm and belly, body jerking when Jack stroked him gently before washing them both clean.

"Is this what you've been trying to tell me all day?" Jack asked as they dried themselves.

Daniel snorted. "No, it's what I've been trying to tell you for years. But I finally decided that the subtle approach wasn't working."

"It took you six years to figure that out?" Jack asked, smirking.

"No," Daniel said, stepping up and leaning forward, wiping a water drop from Jack's throat and sucking his finger into his mouth. "It took six years to get you naked."

"We've been naked before."

"In a shower."

"And in a shower."

"But not where I could play the clichéd drop the soap card and find out exactly how you'd react to me on my knees in front of you."

"I think you found out."

Daniel smiled. "And so will you."

Not Even Close to Subtle
(Jack/Daniel)

~

Jack knew about the restaurant. He just didn't know about the restaurant. Probably would have if he and Daniel had had their first date there, but there'd never really been a date.

Till now. It's a booth setting. High backs for privacy. Low lighting from a small, spartan chandelier over the table. It's nice. But not the point. The point is the almost-floor length tablecloth Jack's restless feet like.

Appetizer is good, food is okay, but as they approach the end of dinner and toward dessert, Jack decides to throw caution to the wind.

Daniel raises the last bite of prime rib to his mouth as Jack's foot touches his knee, moving inside. He coughs, once, and looks around before settling a knowing gaze on Jack.

"What're you doing?"

"Having a little fun," Jack answers as he sits back and swirls the whiskey around in the glass he's holding. "Good thing my legs are long, eh?"

Daniel clears his throat and Jack can only smile fiendishly at him as his toes reach his destination. Barely. His knee is bent a little and all he needs to do is straighten his leg, just a little more and... there.

Daniel sucks in a breath and drops a hand below the table, fingers on Jack's socked foot. Holding him, and Jack realizes that he isn't interested in teasing Daniel. He moves his toes, his foot, and Daniel's hand is guiding him. Their eyes are locked on each other and Jack refuses to look away as he rides his arch over the length of Daniel's full erection.

It's hot, slow, and there's this need to slide under the table but Jack stays put, keeps his foot moving. He sucks in a breath of his own when he feels Daniel thrust against him, so he moves faster, digs his toes in a way he knows Daniel likes. There's a flush across Daniel's cheeks and his upper lip is showing a little sheen of sweat.

Jack raises the glass to his lips and smiles behind it as he drinks, moving his foot harder. Faster is impossible, not without shaking the table. He lets Daniel's hips control that part, and Daniel does. Both hands are on the table now, clenching and unclenching, and his cloth napkin is grabbed as some sort of anchor.

It's amazing for Jack to watch the control Daniel exhibits as his lower body moves with need and lust while his upper body displays only a few signs that anything is going on. Daniel's eyes dart quickly around them and he adjusts his position on the thickly upholstered seat. Jack can just imagine what he's done and he'd love a look to confirm it, but he doesn't really need to. His foot can feel it. Daniel's legs are braced wide against the solid front edge of the bench seat, holding himself for leverage while his hips take over.

There's a pause in the action when the waiter comes over and removes their plates, taking the order for dessert, and all the while, Jack's toes continue their business around the head of Daniel's cock. He's leaking and the pre-come has soaked through both layers of clothing, wetting Jack's sock. His own cock has done the same and Jack wants to touch himself, but he won't. He likes what he's doing, and he can wait.

Dessert arrives, and it would look strange if they didn't eat and... Jack's never seen Daniel consume cheesecake like that before. It gets him harder, wetter, and Daniel is practically vibrating like a rocket.

Unfortunately for them both, they've run out of time and Jack knows that next time, he's starting on Daniel earlier, so that by dessert, Daniel will have to change his clothes when he gets home. Although, he'll still have to, and the thought makes Jack snigger as they leave the tip and pay for their dinner.

The walk to the truck is an excruciatingly long one and the drive home is even worse. In the driveway, Jack parks and tries to figure out a way to get out of the truck without anything remotely resembling pain when Daniel grabs him and kisses him hard and deep. His hands are on his trousers and Jack wasn't born yesterday. He does the same.

It's both wet and dry, and Daniel's sitting over him, pushing onto his cock before Jack can bring his mind to think of anything coherent. He just goes with it, lets Daniel fuck himself, fuck him in a way because he's the one in control. Jack's head is forced back over the short headrest as Daniel bites his throat. He stares at the ceiling, eyes watering, body screaming, and he's grabbing Daniel around the waist, holding him, thrusting up in hard little spikes.

Daniel's telling muffle against his throat signals just before he's coming all over their clothes and Jack gasps and pants as he comes hard.

Minutes or hours pass, it doesn't matter. Jack loosens his hold but doesn't let go, and kisses his lover passionately before Daniel breaks away with a laugh.

"Something funny?" Jack can't keep from asking.

"No, just... toe sex in a restaurant?"

"Yeah," Jack smiles.

"Not exactly careful, Jack."

"I know."

"Or subtle, but I should've expected that."

"Excuse me?"

"You've never been subtle."

"I can be subtle," Jack argues, hating that Daniel's right.

"...except..."

Daniel's still laughing and Jack's thinking of levels of payback.

"Except what?"

"So not subtle. We just did something you swore we'd never do."

Jack has to think about that, and then he groans. Right. Once upon a time, he told Daniel that they'd never fuck in his truck. Too big a risk. He looks around, then checks his watch. Huh.

"Okay, I'm amending that to during the day," and has to kiss Daniel hard until the little bastard stops laughing.

Obsession
(Daniel/Jonathan[young Jack])

~

He settles down comfortably on the blanket, the small hill that overlooks Daniel's backyard and his bedroom window in perfect sightline for his nightscope. He adjusts the sights again, positions the tripod into the soft grass so it doesn't move.

While he watches.

Jonathan doesn't watch often, but he's often here. Waiting for the opportunity for Daniel to leave the blinds open. Those times, Jonathan thinks, are the times when Daniel almost wishes to be watched, because when the blinds are open, it's a signal that there'll be sex in a while.

Jonathan's very happy that said sexual encounters aren't with... his older self. His mangy, idiotic, repressed, other self. The one he used to be. Could have been, and god, he's so happy for the second chance. Besides, the idea of watching his older self fucking Daniel is just too perverted to think about. It would've killed off his sex drive, that's for sure. Jonathan's obsessed, not sick.

There's a smidgen of guilt for what he's spending his free time doing, but Jonathan dismisses it. Women aren't what he wants. He's left that particular attraction behind; that moronic school sort of tossed his libido in deep freeze, till he realized that football players did something else entirely. Libido resurrected, hormones engaged, and learning skills enacted.

Jonathan's had a lot of educating. Now, he fantasizes using that education on Daniel and knows that Daniel would certainly put it to good use. Except there's no way he can just go knocking on the door and say, "Hi, recognize me? I love you, I wanna fuck you, whaddya say?"

He can just imagine the answer so it's why he'll never confront Daniel. But he can watch. He can most definitely watch.

And god, that had been an eye opener six months ago when he'd started this voyeuristic stalking obsession. Finding out that Daniel was gay. Jonathan had been hoping to catch him jacking off, but fucking men? It became quite clear to him why Daniel had never done anything with any women after Shau're, including that insipidly weepy Kera who was really Linea and that's just creepy beyond words. No wonder Daniel gave up sex with women after that. Just ew.

Except Jonathan wonders if she was just the excuse Daniel needed.

Six months ago, he was on this hill, watching, without the scope, and finding out with hot clarity that Daniel hadn't been alone. The bedroom window had been open wide. The sounds made had drawn Jonathan down from the hill and into the backyard, peeking through the window, catching the Marine tattoo on the young man's arm and...

He hadn't expected to see Daniel fucking someone up close and personal, especially a jarhead, and it had been the one and only time--well, since he was twelve--that he'd come in his shorts.

The man had been nice to look at, too. He was also like all the other men Daniel brought over. Daniel liked them muscular and near his own height. He also liked them military. Race didn't seem to matter to him, and that was very Daniel.

Jonathan's attention is brought back to the here and now when a deeply tanned man enters the bedroom. Jonathan looks for Daniel but he doesn't appear yet so he focuses his attention on the partner, waiting with heightened anticipation for the fucking to begin. He loves watching Daniel do that. Not sucking, although that's hot, but fucking. Daniel's face and body are gorgeous when he has sex. All shiny with sweat, body and face flushed red with pleasure. Fucking sexy.

And Jonathan keeps his distance when he watches that, even through the telescoping lens, because up close and personal, he knows he'd come in his shorts... or be seen, which would be worse.

The man on the bed starts masturbating, using the lube Jonathan knows that Daniel stashes under his pillow. He reaches underneath to undo his jeans, pushing them down along with his shorts just far enough so he could jerk off easily, letting his balls swing free.

He's wondering where Daniel is when there's a small noise behind him and he's pushed flat on the ground. Knees painfully trap the back of his legs and Jonathan realizes that can barely move... although somewhere in the back of his mind he's grateful for the new knees.

"I think you need another hobby," comes the voice, slightly out of breath, dangerous, and fucking sexy as shit. "Hands behind your head, fingers locked."

Jonathan's impressed and good idea or not, he's also filled with pride. He knows he's lucky that he hasn't been recognized. He's wearing covert ops gear, including a black knit cap over his long brown hair. He doesn't turn his head, but keeps his chin poised in front, resting on the blanket, as he locks his fingers behind his head.

He wishes that his dick didn't find this situation an extreme turn on, and he probably wouldn't if the man behind him were anyone else but Daniel.

"You know what you're doing is wrong, yes?"

Jonathan nods, his mind quickly reassessing other avenues of spying.

"Reply aloud."

Jonathan clears his throat and purposely whispers, "Yes," hoping that Daniel doesn't recognize his voice.

"Good boy," Daniel tells him, but he doesn't let up. Instead, his knees shift to the ground between his legs and pushes them open.

Jonathan's eyes grow wide, and wider still when Daniel's hands touch and massage his ass, one hand slipping down to rub over his balls. He groans and bites the blanket. Hard.

"Watch the birdy," Daniel tells him and Jonathan raises up on his elbows to peer through the scope, his breathing shallow and rapid. The young man on Daniel's bed is now fucking himself with a very large dildo and as he does, Daniel's fingers move up. Jonathan groans, choking off the sound in his throat. Without thought, he raises his hips and Daniel pulls his cock back, stroking, playing with the head. He bites his lip, knowing this won't take long. He wants to tell Daniel it's him, but he's afraid to and doesn't want this to stop. It's better to pretend that Daniel knows who he's messing with.

Besides, while he's had plenty of education before and after this body, he's not yet gotten this particular body age to master the art of drawing out the pleasure. All he wants is to come and combining what Daniel's doing with what he's watching, it won't be long. A few more minutes, less, when Daniel's fingertip rubs his hole.

He groans again, a breathy sound, and he feels Daniel shift behind him. The sudden thought that he's going to be fucked makes him gasp, but instead, there's wet heat on his hole, on his cock, and the sounds of his breathing move up a notch. He chokes off the need to call Daniel's name, drops his head to the blanket and bites again to make sure.

"Ah, you want more?" Daniel asks, and Jonathan can only nod, trying to keep his face averted. He gasps again when Daniel rims him more thoroughly, bucks backward trying to get him to stroke his cock but his erection's been dismissed. When that tongue dives in, though, Jonathan no longer cares. The head of his dick brushes against the rough feel of the blanket and his hands clutch at the earth in front of him, knocking over the nightscope.

There's a small laugh, but he's not sure if Daniel made it or he did, but it doesn't matter because Daniel's suddenly over him, on top of him, slick cock pushing inside.

"Oh fuck yes!" he grunts into the blanket, moaning as Daniel pulls back and thrusts. He knows now that Daniel's heard his voice; it's clear, even against the blanket. And on further thought, Daniel has to know who it is he's fucking--he wouldn't just fuck a stalker up in the woods. The realization makes him let go. Daniel knows. Jonathan yells his name into the ground, rocks back into him using the earth for leverage, and gets the fuck of his life in return.

It's so damn good--the long, slow strokes; the hard, vicious pounding, and Daniel grunting and moaning as he comes. Jonathan sees nothing at all when he comes and is vaguely aware of a weight over him when he drops off to sleep.

When he wakes, he finds another blanket over him, and that he's alone. His nightscope is gone, and in its place is a camera and a note that says, "If you won't give up your obsessive watching and come down and join me, the least you can do is take pictures for later. Besides, you can't stay up there indefinitely. I'm moving in two months."

Jonathan panics and he gathers up his jeans, fastening quickly, grabs the camera and blankets, the stake-out gear, and heads down the side of the hill, aiming straight for the kitchen entrance. The door's open and he pauses, hearing footsteps and clutter sounds. He steps into the doorway, sees a dining table to his left and a kitchen to his right. Daniel's at the sink, back to him.

He clears his throat but Daniel doesn't turn around.

"Have a seat," Daniel says, and Jonathan notices two cups of coffee are on the table.

"You've got company," he says covetously.

Daniel snorts, still not turning to him. "He's gone. That coffee's for you."

Jonathan sets his things on the floor and sits down, taking a long sip at the fresh brew. Tasted good. He doesn't say anything and when Daniel comes over and sits down next to him, he can't find the words, anyway.

Daniel's changed a little, and for some reason, up close like this, it's not what Jonathan expects. He has a scar over his chin and stress lines around his eyes. There's too much darkness, too much knowledge behind those eyes that have nothing to do with research and science. He wants to hold him and scolds himself for it.

"'Bout time..." Daniel starts.

"Jonathan."

He smiles. "'Bout time, Jonathan."

"Why... last night?"

"Because it's time for you to come inside, and it's time for me to let you."

"And the fuck?"

Daniel smiles slowly. "It was good?"

"Yes," Jonathan answers before his mouth checks in with his brain.

"It's what you wanted?"

"Yes."

"Then consider that a memorable first time. You'll never have normal with me, Jonathan."

"I've never wanted normal with you. Neither did he." Daniel's smile fades slightly and Jonathan wants the words back. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not. It's not the normal I meant, but you're right. He didn't want normal with me. We fucked, once, after he retired, and then he moved on."

"Why?"

"I don't know, but I'm assuming it's because he didn't want a relationship with a man."

Jonathan's mind can't grasp that concept and he shakes his head. "He's an asshole."

Daniel nods, shrugs, then asks, "Are you?"

A quick shake of his head. "No." Then he smiles in that lop-sided way that makes Daniel smile in return. "Just a stalker."

"Not just any. Mine."

Jonathan smiles as Daniel reaches for him, pulls him into a kiss that marks him, burns him, makes him hard as hell. When they separate and Daniel rips at his clothes, Jonathan closes his eyes and whispers, "Yours," just before he's taken into the bedroom. It's dark, the blinds are closed, and Daniel makes love to him, fucks him, until the word he uttered comes true; until he's Daniel's. And has he ever, really, been anyone else's?

Secret
(Jack/Daniel)

~

"...happiness lies in your own hand... it took me much too long to understand how it could be... until you shared your secret with me... somethin's comin' over... somethin's comin' over... somethin's comin' over me..."

Standing in the darkened club with flashing, colored lights, Jack felt and heard the music. He'd never paid much attention to the song before. Now, it seemed as if the drumbeat were on a direct line to his cock.

"Was I right?" Davis asked, raising his voice over the music but Jack silenced him with a lift of his hand. It didn't matter that the Major brought him here to show him. Didn't matter that Jack had asked him the question, over and over, for weeks. If Davis had come out and told him flat, Jack wouldn't have believed him, not even at gun point. So Davis had to show him.

Now, here he was, in a gay dance club, and on the center catwalk, using a stripper's pole...

Was Daniel.

Shit, fire, and save the fuckin' matches. Never in a million fucking years...

He'd wondered why Daniel was letting his hair grow long again. Well, in back, anyway. He'd thought it was easier to maintain it short, or so Daniel had said, but Jack had figured growing it out again was rebellion stage three. Or four. Whatever. Except it wasn't. Really, it wasn't.

And why was Jack assessing Daniel's motives exactly? Personal preference, rebellion, whatever the fuck it was, the true reason was for this. Daniel's longish hair looked really good wet. Really good.

And so did his skin. His tight, hard-packed muscle. When had that happened and why hadn't he noticed? And just why was Daniel doing some erotic, sensual dance in a gay club? Insert any other name and Jack could find an answer. But this was Daniel.

Doing something divine with his hips. Jesus. Arms and hands and legs moving in a rhythm with his hips and the music. Jesusfuck. Jack felt sweat forming quickly on his upper lip that had nothing whatsoever to do with the humidity in the club.

"...somethin's comin' over... somethin's comin' over... somethin's comin' over me... my baby's gotta secret. "

Oh, you better fucking believe it.

It was then that Daniel's eyes caught his and to Jack's credit, he didn't stand there with his mouth open. Although he realized that his feet had brought him closer to the stage without his conscious knowledge and that was a little dismaying.

But not as much as the fact that he was going to come in his jeans because... Daniel was sliding down, rolling around the wet and slick surface of the stage. His eyes still on him and he was hard... shit... and he was fucking the stage in the most sensual dance Jack had ever seen.

At that moment, Jack wished he were naked and underneath, taking the place of the stage, moving with him. It was a second before he realized his hips were moving to the extended music of the song, to Daniel's body.

He made a decision and... didn't stop. His mouth parted and he licked out, wetting his lips just a little in a suggestive tease that Daniel couldn't possibly misread. In any universe.

And god, he didn't. Jack could swear those blue eyes darkened right in front of him. Maybe they had.

"...my baby's gotta secret... my baby's gotta secret..."

Repeating over and over, with that beat, in time with his heart, the blood in his dick, or perhaps it was the reverse. Jack was still hearing the music long after the dance ended. Following Daniel with his eyes, he wove through the crowd and went into the back where the dressing rooms were. Cubicles, more like, but at least they had curtains. Unerringly, he moved toward the one Daniel disappeared into and by the time he went inside and shut the curtain, his jacket was already off and his shirt was open.

Everything else sort of went fuzzy after that because he felt Daniel's kiss, deep and passionate, then his body, hard and slick. When the fact that the thong was gone hit Jack, he was only vaguely aware that he was dropping his jeans and boxers, tangling his shirt over his arms in a half-dazed effort to get to that table and his cock inside Daniel.

His friend's strong arms were around him and there was the tear of foil and the sound of a plastic cap, all of which were a muddle of memory because Daniel's tongue was fucking his mouth. Jack groaned into his throat, unable to do anything else except what his body was telling him--directing his hands on Daniel's thighs, picking them up, sliding them over his arms, pushing his back against the mirror as he sank himself inside.

They seemed to move to the rhythm of the song that now only played between them. And god, it was so good. Wonderful. Magic. Especially when Daniel locked his legs tight around him and came, dragging nails down his back, making Jack gasp and bite and kiss as he came for-fucking-ever.

Somethin' had definitely come over him, this sharing of a secret.

Jack never would have let it happen before.

Except... it was time, he supposed. This was Daniel.

Blue Jello and Coffee (Het)
(Sam/Jack/Daniel)

~

Insomnia sometimes had its perks, even during downtime. There was that moment, like with running, where adrenaline and dopamine filled the brain and the body. All you could feel like doing was to keep going.

The only other thing that matched this feeling was sex. It had been half an hour and Sam's body was vibrating with lust. She absolutely loved this feeling. It made the insomnia bearable and it was a hell of a lot better than working out in a gym.

She hadn't come yet, not really. Just body shudders; she wanted it to last, and goddamn if Jack and Daniel weren't making it last. She'd already wound herself up watching them suck each other, but what wound her up even more, so that she was good and loose and ready was watching Daniel fuck Jack.

Jack was always so keyed up, so rigid inside, while outside was the lazy air of a man who affected stupidity, who made sarcastic comments and generally offended everyone he didn't know. But when Daniel fucked him, all of that disappeared. Jack... whimpered. He cursed. He writhed and bucked and begged and god, that was so good to watch.

Like she had a few hours ago, sitting against the headboard, watching them screw at the foot of the bed. Then Jack had crawled forward, with Daniel's dick still in his ass, and yanked her legs toward him, lining her up and taking her clit into his mouth for some good sucking of his own. She'd held back as long as she could but listening to him moan and watching Daniel fuck Jack harder when he went down on her made her come.

She supposed she loved it all because the men loved each other, and loved her as much as they loved doing her. And god, she couldn't wait for these monthly get-togethers. Contraceptives in place and she was at it, sucking them, watching them, getting fucked by them.

She loved how it always ended, like now--with Daniel kneeling behind, fucking her ass; Jack underneath, having her sit on his dick while he thrust his weight up into her. Her clit was easily reached and Jack used the heel of his hand, rubbing hard and in quick, little circles.

It made her squirm and buck and gyrate around his cock, which was the whole point, she supposed. Behind her, Daniel massaged her breasts, slowly corkscrewing his cock into her, doing some elaborate fucking dance that he might have learned on some island a long time ago.

This was love, but it wasn't. It was sex and fulfilling needs they had. She liked the romantic stuff, the dating, the flowers, the different sort of sex. She measured them all, though, finding herself missing Martouf more than she'd thought she would. He'd have been the one--the one she would have committed to. Even now, five years later, she still fantasized about their first time...

The long, hard fuck in her quarters after Sokar. God, that had been good. And he'd been so cute; shy at first, shocked by her experience till she'd persuaded him to let go. And he had, doing some amazing hip action over the foot of her military-issue bed. Sometimes aliens really did know a hell of a lot more than just technology.

Daniel grabbed her face and brought her attention back to the here and now; he turned her face to him, kissing her hard, and she gasped and laughed and kissed him back, bucking into Jack's busy hand. Daniel pinched her nipples, rolling them between his fingers while he shoved her forward, giving Jack his turn for kissing while Daniel fucked her ass good and hard.

She broke free from Jack's kiss, chanting both their names, planting her hands beside Jack's head as she felt her orgasm explode. She came with such an intensity that she screamed and mewled and pushed back hard against his cock, grinding down against Jack's.

It was then that the small orgasms started as they turned her on her side. She so loved this part. One leg raised, held at the calf by Jack's hand as he fucked her, meeting Daniel's thrusts, feeling the man's cock in her ass.

As Daniel could feel Jack's.

She knew that was one reason why they did this. Not just fulfilling her fantasies and pleasing her because they loved her, but because they loved feeling each other as they fucked her. It was such a turn-on, and when their rhythms broke, they came.

Having them was the best part about suffering insomnia. She would sleep after, feeling very sated, very sore, and very fulfilled. Then the insomnia would slowly build back up again and she'd be wired and out of her mind by the time they had sex again. In the past, she'd sometimes find a rose on the table when she awoke, especially on her birthday, along with a chocolate cupcake with a candle in the center.

This time, it was an ordinary day, and on the side table was blue Jello and coffee. With it, a note: "There's more in 72 hours. Why wait a month? Say yes."  Sam beamed like an idiot and spooned jello into her mouth.