New SG-1 Fic - Of Fools and Wise Men
So, blech! I'm sick with a rotten cold. But every cloud has a silver lining as annoyingly upbeat people will tell you! And mine was the time to write some fic. Yay! This is for the Pepesplace June Challenge in which the striped one set us 15 emotions to get into a story. I only made twelve - I feared any more would cause a mental breakdown (mine).
Title - Of Fools And Wise Men
Author - Berty
Warnings - slash, language, pwp
Rated - NC-17, my pr0n fu is sickness resistant!
Disclaimer - not mine, no money, no infringement etc.
Authors Notes - the title comes from a quote by Sir Douglas Bader, and is a little pretentious for a 2000 word fic to my mind, but I liked it, so it stays. Set during Season 8. With unending thanks to
saladscream who betas like no other and makes my work much, much better.
Of Fools And Wise Men By Berty.
“Rules are for the obedience of fools and the guidance of wise men.” Sir Douglas Bader.
Daniel knows it’s dawn before he opens his eyes, the light filtering through closed eyelids already a little too bright to ignore. He lies peacefully for a few seconds, shaking off dreams and remembering where he is. Mattress. Sheets. Birdsong. The distant honking call of the livestock. The scent of wet grass and the cool breeze that brings it through his open window.
The clues slot easily into place and Daniel is happy to realise that they are still on Nka’mip, still purportedly representing the interests of Earth as the newly free Jaffa people struggle to find their place in the universe. With Sam on leave and SG-1 out of the team rotation, he and Jack have taken the opportunity to join Teal’c on his trip to the ridiculously beautiful pastoral planet which the Jaffa proto-council has deemed impartial enough for their discussions.
In truth, he and Jack have been enjoying some down time, as their presence has only been required (and quite pointedly so) during the voting stages of the meetings which happen once every day. To fill their time, they’ve been exploring, finding wide, slow river bends where they can float in the midday sun and stay deliciously cool. Yesterday they climbed into the foothills of the mountains through green forests of conifer-like trees and grinned with delight at finding meadows of bright wildflowers that looked as if they’d been taken straight out of the pages of some cheesy romantic novel. Jack’s been running and Daniel’s been reading. Jack’s been fishing and Daniel’s been hiding. It’s been good.
So today stretches out in front of him like a gift, exciting and unformed, and he wonders what Jack will drag him off to look at this time. Considering this is supposed to be downtime, the man is horribly active. But Daniel finds he can’t be angry with Jack and his hopeful suggestions, and if pressed he might even admit that he rather enjoys being gathered up for hiking or swimming or wildlife spotting expeditions. Not for fishing, though. Never that.
A cautious hand lands lightly on his chest, and when Daniel doesn’t object, it strokes slowly down to his waist, snaking beneath his t-shirt before retracing its path with greater deliberation. It’s the best way that Daniel can imagine to bring him back from his drowsy thoughts, but still unexpected. Daniel breathes deeply, lifting his chest into that caress, silently asking for more. He’s rewarded with the brush of a thumbnail across his nipple, a sharp prickle of sensation that makes his balls tighten pleasurably.
Lazily, Daniel turns his head and opens his eyes. Jack is watching him carefully, but there’s very little that’s unsure in that direct, thoughtful gaze. He doesn’t expect to be turned down, and why would he? Daniel’s never yet told him no. Even that first time when, taken by surprise, he’d come so fast he’d been embarrassed for days afterwards, afraid that he’d missed his one chance to impress the Colonel.
General, now.
Daniel still can’t get his head around the fact that Jack’s not leading SG-1 anymore. He thinks it will take a while for that to feel right.
It really is early, Daniel realises, the light more grey than yellow through their one small window. Although he can see all there is to be seen in the room, it makes everything look kind of insubstantial, transient - like if he blinked it would be gone. Everything, that is, except Jack.
Jack is solid and real and very, very present. And naked, Daniel notices, his skin silver and shadow in the wan light of morning.
He ghosts his fingers across Daniel’s abdomen, the rough edges of his fingertips scraping softly, raising goosebumps on Daniel’s thighs and forearms. He quirks an eyebrow at Daniel in unspoken question, and Daniel grabs the hem of his t-shirt and quickly twists free of the soft, warm material.
Jack wastes no time, kicking the sheets into a mess at the bottom of their shared bed and tugging Daniel’s boxers off over his hardening cock before Daniel has even resettled himself.
But now Jack pauses, his eyes roaming over Daniel’s body greedily, and Daniel watches him with interest, because this too is new. Jack never instigates sex when there’s enough light to see, he never takes his time over the preliminaries, and Daniel wonders what has changed so radically that Jack is breaking with convention after eighteen months of playing this game - changing the rules that he himself has imposed on their liaison.
Fucking.
Not liaison.
On their fucking.
Daniel may not have seen this coming, but he is a realist.
From downstairs, Daniel hears the snick of a latch and a murmur of voices kept low so as not to disturb the honoured guests sleeping above. Their hosts are up early, seeing to the day’s chores before council is called. They always leave food for their breakfast on the table before they go, and they never enter their room while Jack and Daniel are in the house. Maybe that’s what’s changed. Maybe Jack feels a security here that he’s never had before.
A chuckle, quickly stifled, sounds from the stairs and Jack’s eyes meet Daniel’s again. He puts a finger up to his lips and Daniel nods shortly, irritated. As if he doesn’t understand this, their most fundamental law of engagement. Silence. At all times. He doesn’t sigh or moan or whisper Jack’s name, no matter how much he wants to. They never plan when it will happen. They never discuss it once it’s done.
It didn’t take Daniel long to learn, and now he thinks about it, it’s really the only rule as such. All the other things that go with it are circumstantial - the dark, the hurried act itself, the intervals between. He doesn’t know for sure if it has to be Jack who makes the move - he’s never tried to make a move of his own yet. Jack always seems to know the right times anyway.
As far as the sex itself goes, that’s pretty much a free for all. Hand or mouth, top or bottom, it all seems to be acceptable once Jack has initiated it. Jack doesn’t seem to care if Daniel’s shameless or wanton, as long as he’s quiet, which is good, because he’s never been the shy, studious man that a lot of people take him for. Well, not in bed, anyway.
Daniel waits for Jack to reach for him, curious to see where this new behaviour will lead them. It doesn’t take long. Jack slides nearer his expression becoming intent, lustful. He runs a warm, possessive hand over Daniel’s chilled skin, from his throat to his hard, wanting cock.
Daniel doesn’t make any move to reciprocate, just closes his eyes and offers himself up, subtly lifting into Jack’s touch. And Jack seems to approve, pressing soft kisses to Daniel’s shoulder and chest.
Jack scoots closer and he obviously has something in mind for this morning, so Daniel follows when Jack rolls him away to face the wall, and then spoons up behind him.
Jack slides his top leg forward, forcing Daniel to do the same, the hair on their thighs scratching and catching, then he moves back. Daniel hears the soft click of a cap being opened, and shifts his hips impatiently, anticipating Jack’s next move. Jack’s fingers feel cool inside him as he goes straight in with two. It’s been a few weeks, and Daniel swallows down a grunt of discomfort as his body stretches to accommodate him. Jack is all business now, and his hands are quick and knowledgeable. He withdraws after only a minute to return with three fingers and more lube, and Daniel knows how this goes, his hole loosening at the familiarity of Jack’s clever touch. They rarely fuck like this, but Daniel loves the way Jack’s body touches his from shoulder to thigh - sometimes he likes the way it can make him feel protected and owned, not that he’d admit that to Jack. If they ever talked about it. Which they don’t.
Jack takes his fingers away again, and Daniel’s already reaching for his top leg as Jack’s sticky hand grasps beneath the back of his thigh and guides it up to where Daniel can hold it comfortably.
Jack’s cock is at Daniel’s hole at once, and Jack doesn’t mess around - he knows that Daniel can take it as rough as he can give it. But as soon as he’s fully inside, Jack stops again. His hand closes around Daniel’s cock, which has softened a little, and pumps easily once, twice, then snakes lower to toy with his balls which he knows Daniel loves. Daniel cranes his neck over his shoulder, looking for awkward, messy kisses that Jack seems happy to provide.
Daniel loves this, this feeling of exposure, this feeling of knowing someone so well that modesty is unnecessary, that his behaviour is not dirty or naughty but encouraged and welcomed. His muscles clench around Jack’s cock, deep in his ass, and he wants to hum about how good his sac feels in Jack’s big hand.
Jack bites his shoulder gently, and Daniel bites his lip on the growl he can feel building in his chest. Jack’s fingers slide further still, beneath his balls and close to where he’s buried in Daniel, and it feels amazing, slick and intimate, and Daniel pants as quietly as he can, arching his spine to drag himself a half inch off and on Jack’s stationary cock. Why doesn’t he move?
Jack rubs thoroughly all around Daniel’s stretched hole, as far back as he can reach, sending lightning shivers through Daniel’s body before catching his balls back up in his hand and caressing them softly. He works his other arm under Daniel’s neck, wrapping it across his chest and pulling their bodies into even closer contact.
From downstairs there’s a quiet scrape of a chair on flagstones and more conversation, just a soft mumble that should be comforting but isn’t. The door closes with a muted click, and Daniel feels Jack’s grin against his shoulder. Another first.
Daniel turns his head to try to get a glimpse of Jack’s face, to ask him wordlessly what’s going on, but Jack moves, dropping Daniel’s balls and sliding his hand around behind Daniel’s hip, to where they are joined, and he puts a hand across Daniel’s mouth at the same instant that he pushes two fingers in hard beside his cock.
Daniel stiffens, the sharp, bright ache of his overstretched hole making him gasp into Jack’s sweaty palm. But Jack is moving now, pulling out and pushing in, his fingers holding Daniel wide open, changing the angle of his thrust downward so it rubs hard against the raw bundle of nerves inside him, making him jerk and squirm and push back for more.
Jack is relentless, his pace smooth, his breath in Daniel’s ear, controlled and even. And Daniel’s arm is beginning to ache, and his ass is burning already, but he doesn’t care. He can’t get a hand down to where his cock is an angry red, tight against his belly and throbbing so hard that a good stiff breeze through the window might bring him off.
And he can’t yell.
He wants to, god knows. He wants to tell Jack that he’s right there, hitting him right every single time, that it’s perfect, so, so good and not to stop, not to ever, ever stop, and that he loves this thing they have as much as he hates it and that he’s pretty sure he shouldn’t but he thinks he might be a little bit in love with Jack too…
And Jack leans forward, pressing in further than before, his mouth against Daniel’s ear as he whispers, “Mine.”
And Daniel comes so hard it’s like a perfect, brilliant pain. His muscles clench around Jack’s cock and Jack’s fingers, and he can feel the shape of each individually. He bites down on Jack’s palm, dragging in desperate breaths through his teeth. He hears the spatter of his come hitting the wall, once, twice and the third time into the sheets beneath them. And then Jack’s coming as well and it feels too soon, too intense, too much to bear after the devastating orgasm he’s still riding out. But Jack’s wave carries him along, rushing him headlong into oblivion.
As Daniel drifts - falling into unconsciousness, falling into sleep, he doesn’t really know or care - he feels Jack’s heartbeat slowing against his back and Jack’s arms tighten around him. Cuddling. That’s also a development. He wonders what else might be changing, and what that will mean and how far he can push it.
He thinks it might be time for a new rule.
Fin
Title - Of Fools And Wise Men
Author - Berty
Warnings - slash, language, pwp
Rated - NC-17, my pr0n fu is sickness resistant!
Disclaimer - not mine, no money, no infringement etc.
Authors Notes - the title comes from a quote by Sir Douglas Bader, and is a little pretentious for a 2000 word fic to my mind, but I liked it, so it stays. Set during Season 8. With unending thanks to
saladscream who betas like no other and makes my work much, much better.
Of Fools And Wise Men By Berty.
“Rules are for the obedience of fools and the guidance of wise men.” Sir Douglas Bader.
Daniel knows it’s dawn before he opens his eyes, the light filtering through closed eyelids already a little too bright to ignore. He lies peacefully for a few seconds, shaking off dreams and remembering where he is. Mattress. Sheets. Birdsong. The distant honking call of the livestock. The scent of wet grass and the cool breeze that brings it through his open window.
The clues slot easily into place and Daniel is happy to realise that they are still on Nka’mip, still purportedly representing the interests of Earth as the newly free Jaffa people struggle to find their place in the universe. With Sam on leave and SG-1 out of the team rotation, he and Jack have taken the opportunity to join Teal’c on his trip to the ridiculously beautiful pastoral planet which the Jaffa proto-council has deemed impartial enough for their discussions.
In truth, he and Jack have been enjoying some down time, as their presence has only been required (and quite pointedly so) during the voting stages of the meetings which happen once every day. To fill their time, they’ve been exploring, finding wide, slow river bends where they can float in the midday sun and stay deliciously cool. Yesterday they climbed into the foothills of the mountains through green forests of conifer-like trees and grinned with delight at finding meadows of bright wildflowers that looked as if they’d been taken straight out of the pages of some cheesy romantic novel. Jack’s been running and Daniel’s been reading. Jack’s been fishing and Daniel’s been hiding. It’s been good.
So today stretches out in front of him like a gift, exciting and unformed, and he wonders what Jack will drag him off to look at this time. Considering this is supposed to be downtime, the man is horribly active. But Daniel finds he can’t be angry with Jack and his hopeful suggestions, and if pressed he might even admit that he rather enjoys being gathered up for hiking or swimming or wildlife spotting expeditions. Not for fishing, though. Never that.
A cautious hand lands lightly on his chest, and when Daniel doesn’t object, it strokes slowly down to his waist, snaking beneath his t-shirt before retracing its path with greater deliberation. It’s the best way that Daniel can imagine to bring him back from his drowsy thoughts, but still unexpected. Daniel breathes deeply, lifting his chest into that caress, silently asking for more. He’s rewarded with the brush of a thumbnail across his nipple, a sharp prickle of sensation that makes his balls tighten pleasurably.
Lazily, Daniel turns his head and opens his eyes. Jack is watching him carefully, but there’s very little that’s unsure in that direct, thoughtful gaze. He doesn’t expect to be turned down, and why would he? Daniel’s never yet told him no. Even that first time when, taken by surprise, he’d come so fast he’d been embarrassed for days afterwards, afraid that he’d missed his one chance to impress the Colonel.
General, now.
Daniel still can’t get his head around the fact that Jack’s not leading SG-1 anymore. He thinks it will take a while for that to feel right.
It really is early, Daniel realises, the light more grey than yellow through their one small window. Although he can see all there is to be seen in the room, it makes everything look kind of insubstantial, transient - like if he blinked it would be gone. Everything, that is, except Jack.
Jack is solid and real and very, very present. And naked, Daniel notices, his skin silver and shadow in the wan light of morning.
He ghosts his fingers across Daniel’s abdomen, the rough edges of his fingertips scraping softly, raising goosebumps on Daniel’s thighs and forearms. He quirks an eyebrow at Daniel in unspoken question, and Daniel grabs the hem of his t-shirt and quickly twists free of the soft, warm material.
Jack wastes no time, kicking the sheets into a mess at the bottom of their shared bed and tugging Daniel’s boxers off over his hardening cock before Daniel has even resettled himself.
But now Jack pauses, his eyes roaming over Daniel’s body greedily, and Daniel watches him with interest, because this too is new. Jack never instigates sex when there’s enough light to see, he never takes his time over the preliminaries, and Daniel wonders what has changed so radically that Jack is breaking with convention after eighteen months of playing this game - changing the rules that he himself has imposed on their liaison.
Fucking.
Not liaison.
On their fucking.
Daniel may not have seen this coming, but he is a realist.
From downstairs, Daniel hears the snick of a latch and a murmur of voices kept low so as not to disturb the honoured guests sleeping above. Their hosts are up early, seeing to the day’s chores before council is called. They always leave food for their breakfast on the table before they go, and they never enter their room while Jack and Daniel are in the house. Maybe that’s what’s changed. Maybe Jack feels a security here that he’s never had before.
A chuckle, quickly stifled, sounds from the stairs and Jack’s eyes meet Daniel’s again. He puts a finger up to his lips and Daniel nods shortly, irritated. As if he doesn’t understand this, their most fundamental law of engagement. Silence. At all times. He doesn’t sigh or moan or whisper Jack’s name, no matter how much he wants to. They never plan when it will happen. They never discuss it once it’s done.
It didn’t take Daniel long to learn, and now he thinks about it, it’s really the only rule as such. All the other things that go with it are circumstantial - the dark, the hurried act itself, the intervals between. He doesn’t know for sure if it has to be Jack who makes the move - he’s never tried to make a move of his own yet. Jack always seems to know the right times anyway.
As far as the sex itself goes, that’s pretty much a free for all. Hand or mouth, top or bottom, it all seems to be acceptable once Jack has initiated it. Jack doesn’t seem to care if Daniel’s shameless or wanton, as long as he’s quiet, which is good, because he’s never been the shy, studious man that a lot of people take him for. Well, not in bed, anyway.
Daniel waits for Jack to reach for him, curious to see where this new behaviour will lead them. It doesn’t take long. Jack slides nearer his expression becoming intent, lustful. He runs a warm, possessive hand over Daniel’s chilled skin, from his throat to his hard, wanting cock.
Daniel doesn’t make any move to reciprocate, just closes his eyes and offers himself up, subtly lifting into Jack’s touch. And Jack seems to approve, pressing soft kisses to Daniel’s shoulder and chest.
Jack scoots closer and he obviously has something in mind for this morning, so Daniel follows when Jack rolls him away to face the wall, and then spoons up behind him.
Jack slides his top leg forward, forcing Daniel to do the same, the hair on their thighs scratching and catching, then he moves back. Daniel hears the soft click of a cap being opened, and shifts his hips impatiently, anticipating Jack’s next move. Jack’s fingers feel cool inside him as he goes straight in with two. It’s been a few weeks, and Daniel swallows down a grunt of discomfort as his body stretches to accommodate him. Jack is all business now, and his hands are quick and knowledgeable. He withdraws after only a minute to return with three fingers and more lube, and Daniel knows how this goes, his hole loosening at the familiarity of Jack’s clever touch. They rarely fuck like this, but Daniel loves the way Jack’s body touches his from shoulder to thigh - sometimes he likes the way it can make him feel protected and owned, not that he’d admit that to Jack. If they ever talked about it. Which they don’t.
Jack takes his fingers away again, and Daniel’s already reaching for his top leg as Jack’s sticky hand grasps beneath the back of his thigh and guides it up to where Daniel can hold it comfortably.
Jack’s cock is at Daniel’s hole at once, and Jack doesn’t mess around - he knows that Daniel can take it as rough as he can give it. But as soon as he’s fully inside, Jack stops again. His hand closes around Daniel’s cock, which has softened a little, and pumps easily once, twice, then snakes lower to toy with his balls which he knows Daniel loves. Daniel cranes his neck over his shoulder, looking for awkward, messy kisses that Jack seems happy to provide.
Daniel loves this, this feeling of exposure, this feeling of knowing someone so well that modesty is unnecessary, that his behaviour is not dirty or naughty but encouraged and welcomed. His muscles clench around Jack’s cock, deep in his ass, and he wants to hum about how good his sac feels in Jack’s big hand.
Jack bites his shoulder gently, and Daniel bites his lip on the growl he can feel building in his chest. Jack’s fingers slide further still, beneath his balls and close to where he’s buried in Daniel, and it feels amazing, slick and intimate, and Daniel pants as quietly as he can, arching his spine to drag himself a half inch off and on Jack’s stationary cock. Why doesn’t he move?
Jack rubs thoroughly all around Daniel’s stretched hole, as far back as he can reach, sending lightning shivers through Daniel’s body before catching his balls back up in his hand and caressing them softly. He works his other arm under Daniel’s neck, wrapping it across his chest and pulling their bodies into even closer contact.
From downstairs there’s a quiet scrape of a chair on flagstones and more conversation, just a soft mumble that should be comforting but isn’t. The door closes with a muted click, and Daniel feels Jack’s grin against his shoulder. Another first.
Daniel turns his head to try to get a glimpse of Jack’s face, to ask him wordlessly what’s going on, but Jack moves, dropping Daniel’s balls and sliding his hand around behind Daniel’s hip, to where they are joined, and he puts a hand across Daniel’s mouth at the same instant that he pushes two fingers in hard beside his cock.
Daniel stiffens, the sharp, bright ache of his overstretched hole making him gasp into Jack’s sweaty palm. But Jack is moving now, pulling out and pushing in, his fingers holding Daniel wide open, changing the angle of his thrust downward so it rubs hard against the raw bundle of nerves inside him, making him jerk and squirm and push back for more.
Jack is relentless, his pace smooth, his breath in Daniel’s ear, controlled and even. And Daniel’s arm is beginning to ache, and his ass is burning already, but he doesn’t care. He can’t get a hand down to where his cock is an angry red, tight against his belly and throbbing so hard that a good stiff breeze through the window might bring him off.
And he can’t yell.
He wants to, god knows. He wants to tell Jack that he’s right there, hitting him right every single time, that it’s perfect, so, so good and not to stop, not to ever, ever stop, and that he loves this thing they have as much as he hates it and that he’s pretty sure he shouldn’t but he thinks he might be a little bit in love with Jack too…
And Jack leans forward, pressing in further than before, his mouth against Daniel’s ear as he whispers, “Mine.”
And Daniel comes so hard it’s like a perfect, brilliant pain. His muscles clench around Jack’s cock and Jack’s fingers, and he can feel the shape of each individually. He bites down on Jack’s palm, dragging in desperate breaths through his teeth. He hears the spatter of his come hitting the wall, once, twice and the third time into the sheets beneath them. And then Jack’s coming as well and it feels too soon, too intense, too much to bear after the devastating orgasm he’s still riding out. But Jack’s wave carries him along, rushing him headlong into oblivion.
As Daniel drifts - falling into unconsciousness, falling into sleep, he doesn’t really know or care - he feels Jack’s heartbeat slowing against his back and Jack’s arms tighten around him. Cuddling. That’s also a development. He wonders what else might be changing, and what that will mean and how far he can push it.
He thinks it might be time for a new rule.
Fin