Fic archiving: Repeat Again From the Start
Title: Repeat Again From the Start
Author:
abyssinia
Fandom: Stargate: SG-1
Characters: Jack/Daniel
Rating/Warning: NC-17, non-con, very dark
Word Count: 749
Author's Note: Written for Porn Battle X for the prompt Jack O'Neill/Daniel Jackson, reborn. Originally posted here
Daniel walks through the doorway and blinks into the dimness of the room, as though it will help him focus without his glasses. Jack has no idea if Daniel remembers glasses. His eyes watch as Daniel hesitates a moment then, responding to a wave of Jack's hand, reaches up to slowly unbutton his shirt, pulling it off over newly muscled shoulders. When he finishes stripping he stands in front of Jack, slightly awkward, with skin Oma made impossibly flawless. Sometimes Jack looks at all the places the scars aren't and pretends someone else is standing before him.
Jack's fingers twitch and Daniel steps forward, letting Jack's hands smooth over the side of his face before resting on his shoulders. It takes only the tiniest of pressures for Daniel to sink to his knees. Jack hates this part. He hates the way his dick hardens at Daniel's touch, hates the way Daniel lets his fingers trace along his jaw, hates the way Daniel relaxes into his grip and lets his mouth get fucked. And he hates how good it feels every damn time.
It doesn't take long before he succumbs, fingers tangled in Daniel's hair as he pumps down his throat. It's a minute before he pulls out and Daniel bows his head and wipes a hand over his mouth before looking up at him from the floor.
Later, in bed, Jack's fingers curl around Daniel's cock, stroking slowly and evenly. He watches Daniel's face, seeing the frown lines form when he starts breathing hard. Daniel teeters on the edge a long time, denied enough stimulation to push him over, but he doesn't protest, doesn't make a sound, however long he's left holding onto the sheets. It's only when he's finally allowed to come, back arching and cock pulsing beneath Jack's hand, that he lets a small whine escape his throat.
Somewhere in the middle of the night, watching Daniel, Jack knows it's been too many days, and Oma's brain fog is going to start to lift. He wants to reach out and smooth a hand over Daniel's forehead, erase the creases starting to appear, as though he's figuring things out even in sleep. While he watches, Daniel wakes and rolls from the edge of the bed, blinking at him before muttering a confused, questioning, "Jack?" Before Jack can answer, can tell Daniel he's there or tell Daniel to run, Ba'al snickers in his head and there's a knife in Daniel's throat and Jack is left starring at bright red blood pooling on the sheets. Even knowing it's coming, Jack doesn't have enough warning to try to stop it (he pretends he could, so he doesn't have to admit that experience has proven all the time in the world wouldn't make a difference).
"It's a pity," Ba'al says, smoothing Jack's hand over Daniel's forehead. "This time he was so...compliant." He looks at the body a minute more before ringing for servants to carry it away.
"Fuck you," Jack thinks back at him, as the two heavily muscled-men enter, showing no reaction to the nudity of their god, nor to the dead body on the bed.
"I do believe that has been the idea, yes," Ba'al agrees. And then, because there is no memory so flawless as that which is embedded into genetic code, he makes Jack remember -- pounding into Daniel from behind while he's bent over a table, bringing him to orgasm even as he chokes out his final breaths, driving him to his knees again and again and -- "And you cannot fool me by claiming a part of you does not enjoy it. But your friend is due to wake, and we should ensure there is a familiar face to greet him."
The sarcophagus doesn't take long to heal flesh wounds. Jack thinks this is the cruelest trick of all, that the sarc returns the body to how it is programmed to be, and Oma made Daniel beautiful and unmarked and empty. Jack hates this part the most, he thinks, watching the top split wide and Daniel's eyes blink, blue and confused and trusting. Each time he hopes there won't be a body, hopes the eyes won't open.
"Who?" Daniel starts to ask, looking surprised at his own voice.
Ba'al loves this part the most, the chance to start fresh each time, to mold Daniel Jackson into an infinite assortment of people. "You are Daniel Jackson," he says with Jack's vocal chords. "And you are my lotar."
This entry was originally posted at dreamwidth
. Replies are welcome on either post.
Author:
abyssinia
Fandom: Stargate: SG-1
Characters: Jack/Daniel
Rating/Warning: NC-17, non-con, very dark
Word Count: 749
Author's Note: Written for Porn Battle X for the prompt Jack O'Neill/Daniel Jackson, reborn. Originally posted here
Daniel walks through the doorway and blinks into the dimness of the room, as though it will help him focus without his glasses. Jack has no idea if Daniel remembers glasses. His eyes watch as Daniel hesitates a moment then, responding to a wave of Jack's hand, reaches up to slowly unbutton his shirt, pulling it off over newly muscled shoulders. When he finishes stripping he stands in front of Jack, slightly awkward, with skin Oma made impossibly flawless. Sometimes Jack looks at all the places the scars aren't and pretends someone else is standing before him.
Jack's fingers twitch and Daniel steps forward, letting Jack's hands smooth over the side of his face before resting on his shoulders. It takes only the tiniest of pressures for Daniel to sink to his knees. Jack hates this part. He hates the way his dick hardens at Daniel's touch, hates the way Daniel lets his fingers trace along his jaw, hates the way Daniel relaxes into his grip and lets his mouth get fucked. And he hates how good it feels every damn time.
It doesn't take long before he succumbs, fingers tangled in Daniel's hair as he pumps down his throat. It's a minute before he pulls out and Daniel bows his head and wipes a hand over his mouth before looking up at him from the floor.
Later, in bed, Jack's fingers curl around Daniel's cock, stroking slowly and evenly. He watches Daniel's face, seeing the frown lines form when he starts breathing hard. Daniel teeters on the edge a long time, denied enough stimulation to push him over, but he doesn't protest, doesn't make a sound, however long he's left holding onto the sheets. It's only when he's finally allowed to come, back arching and cock pulsing beneath Jack's hand, that he lets a small whine escape his throat.
Somewhere in the middle of the night, watching Daniel, Jack knows it's been too many days, and Oma's brain fog is going to start to lift. He wants to reach out and smooth a hand over Daniel's forehead, erase the creases starting to appear, as though he's figuring things out even in sleep. While he watches, Daniel wakes and rolls from the edge of the bed, blinking at him before muttering a confused, questioning, "Jack?" Before Jack can answer, can tell Daniel he's there or tell Daniel to run, Ba'al snickers in his head and there's a knife in Daniel's throat and Jack is left starring at bright red blood pooling on the sheets. Even knowing it's coming, Jack doesn't have enough warning to try to stop it (he pretends he could, so he doesn't have to admit that experience has proven all the time in the world wouldn't make a difference).
"It's a pity," Ba'al says, smoothing Jack's hand over Daniel's forehead. "This time he was so...compliant." He looks at the body a minute more before ringing for servants to carry it away.
"Fuck you," Jack thinks back at him, as the two heavily muscled-men enter, showing no reaction to the nudity of their god, nor to the dead body on the bed.
"I do believe that has been the idea, yes," Ba'al agrees. And then, because there is no memory so flawless as that which is embedded into genetic code, he makes Jack remember -- pounding into Daniel from behind while he's bent over a table, bringing him to orgasm even as he chokes out his final breaths, driving him to his knees again and again and -- "And you cannot fool me by claiming a part of you does not enjoy it. But your friend is due to wake, and we should ensure there is a familiar face to greet him."
The sarcophagus doesn't take long to heal flesh wounds. Jack thinks this is the cruelest trick of all, that the sarc returns the body to how it is programmed to be, and Oma made Daniel beautiful and unmarked and empty. Jack hates this part the most, he thinks, watching the top split wide and Daniel's eyes blink, blue and confused and trusting. Each time he hopes there won't be a body, hopes the eyes won't open.
"Who?" Daniel starts to ask, looking surprised at his own voice.
Ba'al loves this part the most, the chance to start fresh each time, to mold Daniel Jackson into an infinite assortment of people. "You are Daniel Jackson," he says with Jack's vocal chords. "And you are my lotar."
This entry was originally posted at dreamwidth
. Replies are welcome on either post.